As a 21 year veteran to the Christian faith, you would think I get this “building God’s kingdom” thing. And if someone were to ask me if I had it down a few years ago, I would have agreed. “Yeah, I know what it means to build God’s kingdom.” But the funny thing about God is that as much as He looks at the efforts of the hands, He weighs the motives of the heart, more so. So, within the last couple years, I have been forced to look at the mirror of my life and ask the question, “Why do I do what I do?” Is it really for God? I would often say so, but the truth of the matter is, there is a very real, selfish, and therefore, sinister reason. I puff myself up. I want the accolades. I want the praise. I want to know that I am making a positive impact in someone’s life. I want to know that I found worth in someone’s life. I want to be the hero. Wait. But isn’t this supposed to be about Jesus? Absolutely, yes. Of course, I want people to be saved from their sins. Of course, I want them to have a relationship with our Father in heaven. But I also want it to be known that it was me who led them to Christ. Sheesh. The truth oozes with pride. My very cursed pride (appropriate time for a specific cuss word?). So, even though it’s by Jesus’ name, it is duly noted that it is my own kingdom that I seek to build. It is no secret that I have struggled with self-esteem. I’ve blogged about it before, but seeing it’s long-awaited result can make me sick concerning the reality of what might be. As long as I have deemed it necessary to rebuttal the verbal or written attacks on my identity, I can only focus on my own worth, rather than on the worth of God. And because I am guilty of seeking my own glory, I fail to glorify God. I wonder how often I have shared a testimony, and it overemphasizes what I have done, but, “Oh Jesus stepped in at this one moment, and helped it along…” Yeah, sure. Honestly, it is very easy to forget to give any credit to Him at all. Sheesh. I’m not as clean as I think I am. There really isn’t too much to wonder why there was a need for a season of rest. How am I to share the love of God if all I am concerned about is how people care about me? I can’t. Luckily, I’m catching it now. However, sooner or later, if undeterred, the motives of my heart would muddle the very notion of why ministry is conducted. I would focus on works, again. I would have a hopeful heart, at first, but burn out. My unconditional love would reveal itself to be conditional. Friendships would be dependent, and not mutually caring. I would get jealous if someone else received affirmation, whereas I hadn’t. I know that this would happen, because it started happening. Even before I officially moved into my season of rest, I began recognizing that something was amiss, and perhaps, I needed to step down from ministry. Whether or not I was going to stay in Browning. There are wounds in my heart that need to be healed; mindsets that need to be realigned with God’s Word. There are lies about myself and my life that I have believed. While buried under a rug, I had been proclaiming truths that I now wonder how deeply (or shallow, as the case may reveal) I honestly trusted and believed. I am finding that in my wounds, I have sought for a safe place to share my faith. I’ll be bold in my writings and among my friends, but ask me to talk to someone beyond my immediate circle; ask me to pray for healing; ask me to do something out of the ordinary, because God directed me to - I will refuse. My boldness has waned. And it’s because I’ve believed the lies of the enemy. I have failed to be assured in my mind what my spirit knows to be true. I have believed that I’m not worth anything. I have believed that I’m someone’s second choice. I have believed that God won’t answer prayer in a timely fashion. I have believed that the results of a supernatural encounter are dependent on my ability and faith, not on the work of the Holy Spirit. I have believed that I need to prove God real. I have believed that salvation needs to look appetizing to the senses before Jesus can be shared. The truth is, while I’m wanting people to accept Jesus, I’m REALLY wanting people to accept me. Because I have feared my entire life that I wouldn’t be. That I could be thrown away. And being thrown away means more to me than if someone fails to have a relationship with Jesus, and subsequently, spends eternity in hell. Sheesh. Quite a narcissistic desire. But it’s my kingdom I’m building. Unless something changes. And the truth is - I DO want it to change. I want to stop worrying about what people think about me. Furthermore, I want to know how to love God beyond what He can do for me. The failure to chase after His heart is because there has been a desire in me for others to chase after mine. I have become convinced of the world’s promises, and found where my convictions have been compromised. It sucks. All this time, I thought I was close to my heavenly Father and doing great things for Him, only to find out it wasn’t 100% for His glory. What. The. Heck. Was I thinking??? Didn’t I see how God wasn’t at the center of it all? To say that I made some mistakes is an understatement. There is some regret. There is a part of me that wants to just jump back in the waters of ministry. When can I go back to a reservation somewhere, or overseas? Maybe I should get involved in the youth or children’s ministry here. Yet, I’m hesitant to do so. For good reason, too. I have come to realize that I lost sight of my Father’s heart, and I want to get back. And I want to go deeper. I’m sure there is a danger to becoming comfortable spending extensive time with God on an almost daily basis. But it would be far more dangerous to go back sharing the Word of God without His heart or His kingdom in mind. As long as I’m afraid of what others think of me, I’ll be too dang focused on me, rather than on Him. So, it is high time to till the soil, fix the broken things in me...but more importantly, fix my eyes on Jesus, lifting up His kingdom instead of my own. He is to increase. I am to decrease. Let it be so.
Wednesday, September 22, 2021
So, What's the Plan?
I had a plan. I knew what I was going to do come this Fall. Or I thought I knew. Making plans can be a funny thing, because sometimes things happen as one detail, but there are other times when what was envisioned is not so. This Fall is one such instance when the plans I made fell through completely. I already knew the timeline for YWAM shifted. But I was supposed to be going to Israel at the end of August. Then that got delayed to the Spring. It was confirmed that this is supposed to be a season of rest. But what does that even mean? I’m not working, and to the outsider’s mind, I’m just chilling and freeloading off my family. This rest isn’t meant to be permanent, nevertheless, it is amazing how quickly the questions came as to what the plan is for me moving back to Missoula. “Are you going to sub?” “Are you going to teach at DeSmet? (We need tutors.)” “What about Valley Christian?” “Are you going to reapply to YWAM? Maybe you should try another base.” “You should go to Rhema. I feel it in my spirit.” “I heard you’re interested in YWAM. Here’s a contact for Ronan. They are looking for students.” Are you, are you, are you? You should, you should, you should… It can be a bit maddening if I ponder on the expectations that I have felt inwardly pressured. Truth is, however, no one is telling me I have to do something. Most of the questions coming are from people whom I haven’t talked to in a long time, and so they see a new chapter and wonder what’s being written. Nevertheless, when God has revealed to me in a number of ways that I should be sitting tight, it is anxious to see the open doors, when I have been directed to shut them, for the time being. I grew up believing that if there is an open door, I should (there’s that word, again…) walk through it. However, I am finding that when God gives a directive to stop doing, then open doors become a test. Am I going to listen to Him, or am I going to do what I want to do (which is being involved)? Truth is - so much of my maturity in my faith has relied on what I do for God, more than in who I am. And when I told God that I should be about my Father’s business, He then retorted, “What if being about My business is sitting at My feet?” Dang. There it is. I’m so comfortable at being busy than being, in and of itself. So, what’s the plan? For now, just sit at His feet. Learn to address the hidden things in my heart that I have learned to bury over the years. Seek His face and His heart over my personal motivations. The plan is to rest. Rest seems lazy. It can look immature. But there is a purpose in it, when done right. I’m not vegetating. I’m addressing the things that for so long were neglected. I, also, see areas where God is going to stretch me. That is, if I am willing to follow through on the exercises that He gives me. Rest is meant to be active, not dull. But more on that for another time. As for now, I see that there has been a reason for my plans falling through. There is personal growth, but I have also been able to reconnect with family I haven’t seen in years; and am a needed help in other ways. I don’t know what the plans will be come November or December. Will this rest thing only be a couple months, or the length of the school year? Only God knows. But I am in no rush. Maybe that’s a bad thing. Although, maybe it isn’t. Our society pressures us to have a plan and follow a timeclock for certain goals and events in life. But God is the one who writes the story, ultimately. Maybe...instead of writing my own script, it’s time to read His.
Wednesday, September 8, 2021
I Remember...9/11 (20th Anniversary)
I remember 9/11...I was getting ready for school, and heading out to the bus stop. As I was opening the door, my dad had just turned on the TV, and at the sight of emergency news, he said, “Oh ----!” I didn’t know what happened, but I knew it was bad. When I arrived at school, I learned about the World Trade Center, and it was the first time I heard of Al Qaeda. I heard about the Pentagon. I learned of Flight 98 and the heroic sacrifice those passengers made. In subsequent days, words of Muslim extremists, terrorism and Osama bin Laden became frequent. I remember the religion of Islam no longer being mentioned as a religion of peace. I also remember that the United States started banding together. We started praying again. On the news, I also remember hearing word that violent acts were being committed as a reaction to the loss of 3,000 lives. Shops owned by American Muslims were vandalized. President George W. Bush reminded the people that we are not to fight our own. The terrorists were our enemy, and that is who we would fight. I was warned that my classmates may fight in this war. There was fear. There was hurt. There was hope. There was unity. I also remember a thought that came along. It became more prevalent to my heart, however, I wasn’t hearing anyone else utter the same conviction (until a couple years later). Would it be...could it be...is it okay to ask God to pray for bin Laden’s salvation? In a time of war, was it odd to pray that the enemy could find mercy long enough to come to know Jesus? I knew that justice needed to be made. I knew life-long imprisonment, in the least; death at most would be required. But...could God hold off long enough to see our enemies become our brothers? Even if only on a spiritual aspect. But maybe I was just being naïve. After all, I was only an 11-year-old girl.
I remember May 2, 2011… Well, the news came a day after, for us, Americans. Osama bin Laden was found in Pakistan and the Navy Seal charged into his home, killing him and shooting one of his wives in the leg. President Obama was announcing the victory we had wanted since September 11, 2001. The man who supported the attack on America ten years prior was dead. On Facebook, the newsfeed was filled with praises for the dead terrorist. My heart felt a mixture of emotions. On one hand, I knew there was a relief; a sense of justice was achieved. However, my heart also felt heavy. But why? As an American, I should be happy.
Right?
I asked God why I felt this heaviness. His reply: “I lost a son.” In that moment, I remembered my prayer when I was a child. I had wanted Osama bin Laden to meet Jesus on this side of death. But he didn’t. Now Osama bin Laden was burning in hell. And that is for eternity. How could I relish in his death when it meant that he would never get another chance to know God as a heavenly Father? I could not.
Two blasts blew at the Kabul airport in Afghanistan on August 26, 2021...Thirteen US soldiers were killed, up to 90 other Afghan citizens were killed, and 120 others injured as there was a plan in place to evacuate American citizens and Afghan allies after the Taliban took over the governing forces in the country. We had been fighting in a war for 20 years. Even two weeks later, the news has ongoing updates on how there are still American citizens stranded in Afghanistan. There is fear. There is hurt. There is not much hope or unity discussed.
In all that has happened in America, and that continues to unfold nationally and internationally, I am hesitant to jump on the “hate the enemy” bandwagon. I’m reminded of my 11-year-old self, and how I was praying for salvation, rather than revenge. When President Biden addressed the nation, he stated one phrase that was repeated across the newscasters: “We will not forgive. We will hunt you down. We will make you pay.” Politics aside (TV is full of opinions on the events of the world; this post is meant to mention something not being discussed publicly), I cannot agree with my president on the notion that I won’t forgive.
I am not going to apologize. But I am not going to allow hate to stir in my heart based on what happened in Afghanistan. Does what happened hurt? Of course. Should something be done. I wouldn’t doubt it. My uncle and I had a conversation last week about this. He believes the death of innocents is close to God’s heart and that there is such a thing as godly killing. In this context, it is okay to respond and bring forth justice to stop evil. Perhaps he is correct. Killing may be required as a form of self-defense. I know that in the Bible and in contemporary times, judgment has come upon those who have done evil.
There is the physical perspective. But there is also the eternal perspective. As an American, I am leery to relish in the destruction of men (and women) who are acting on terrorist means to obtain their end. I do not want to even desire for the demise of the Taliban, ISIS-K, Al Qaeda, or any other Muslim terrorist organization. Even if I have to physically defend myself, I do not want to resort to hatred.
Because as a Christian, I cannot be mindful of the physical realm alone. There is an eternal realm that we must be aware of. There is an enemy greater than the ones we see in planes. And there is a far more sobering reality than dying on a battlefield.
We are trying to fight something with artillery that can only be fought with ideology, furthermore, spiritually. Let’s face it. Even if you kill 100 Muslim extremists, 1,000 may still rise up. Because they believe in the theology of jihad. Of a holy war. They won’t be deterred from their beliefs, as many Christians are not deterred despite persecution.
To beat something spiritually, you must have spiritual weapons. And the prime weapon is prayer.
I feel sad for our nation, but I also feel sorry for these jihadists. They are ensued in a war to bring about a righteousness that they themselves cannot maintain (based on Letters from Osama bin Laden, a book I had to read for my terrorism class, this fight is over Israel (Muslims believe that Ishmael was the promised son of Abraham), oil (which the Western world loved to be involved in), and the sin tolerated in Western societies (which, maybe we Christians should be careful not to call sins vices or tolerate things unbiblical)). According to Muslim law and tradition, they have to pray certain times of day, in a certain language (not every Muslim speaks Arabic), have certain cleansing rituals, and obligations to attend to in life. Even then! When they still adhere to all the requirements Allah dictated according to the Quran, Muslims are at the mercy of their god’s choice.
But Isaiah tells the hard truth that all of us need to come to terms with. Every ‘righteous’ act we attempt to do is as filthy rags (see Isaiah 64:6). The only way we can be cleaned of our nastiness and become righteous is through the sacrifice of Jesus. He died while we were still sinners (Romans 5:5), took our sin upon Himself that we may take up the righteousness of God (2 Corinthians 5:21). I don’t care what religious background you have. None of us can make it to God with our own efforts. That is why we need Jesus. And until we give Him our hearts, we will continue to “earn” our goodness, and attempt to purge the world of any evil and bring a counterfeit justice in our own strength. It is futile.
So back to 9/11’s memory. Back to the Muslim extremists that we are still guarded within our negotiations. We may have to fight. We may have to defend ourselves. Nevertheless, I choose to forgive. I choose to not allow any terrorists to gain my hate. And I choose to pray. Because at the end of it all, I would much rather see brothers than enemies. I want to see those whom I may not know their face or name be able to have a relationship with the One who has known their name and face before time itself.
Am I so naïve?
"Harmless" Daydreaming
I bet you wouldn’t guess that I could be guilty of this sin. I grew up in the church. I’m pretty clean-cut. Would you believe that I have broken the seventh commandment? It says, “Do not commit adultery (see Exodus 20:14).” I’m a clean-cut Christian. So, I’m good...Right? But Jesus said, “You have heard it was said, ‘You shall not commit adultery’; but I say to you that everyone who [so much as] looks at a woman with lust for her has already committed adultery with her in his heart (Matthew 5:27-28).” Wait. So adultery encompasses more than having sex outside of marriage? Maybe I’m not as pure as I thought when I attended college. My journey into the interest of a romance took a belated approach. Boys as a desire didn’t get introduced until I was 15 (any desire for a boy was to beat him at a sport, until then). And when I had my first major crush at 16 years old, I freaked out, because I was of the opinion that if I wasn’t old enough to marry, why date? I told God to take away the desire. Fast forward 15 years, and I am still single. Not even one date. It is easy to be sexually pure if I haven’t been in a relationship. However, the truth is, there is a desire for romance. Has been so since I moved away from my parents the first time. It still persists. It becomes more pronounced the more lonely I’m feeling. However, what I must come to terms with, as a Christian, is why am I okay with the areas or in the manner in which I blur the lines of sin? I don’t have sex. And I know that once I’m in a relationship, I will want boundaries. After God revealed to me in the most practical way what masturbation was, there was an immediate stop. I want to glorify God in this desire. At least, I think so. I say I do. But I am coming to realize there is so much of me that I want to esteem, that I have cleverly found ways in which I can “honor” God, and still allow myself to relish in the hopes for the romantic. I daydream. Primarily when I’m going to bed or waking up. It doesn’t happen all the time, but if a related topic, movie scene or short clip has come up, my mind starts running. I begin to imagine a storyline - I’m the main female protagonist. Of course. The ways in which the story lines vary; most often a readaptation of other romantic stories I have encountered. They are clean. Of course. And by clean, I mean that I make sure there aren’t any sex scenes (I know not to envision myself having sex with someone that isn’t my husband). The couple at most is just laying next to each other. Okay. Honesty here. They are spooning. The couple is either married or the romance leads to marriage. Bed scenes NEVER include a couple not married (although, there was that one story line where the couple accidentally fell asleep on a couch, talking late at night...does that count?). Story lines usually include that the protagonists run into each other and have a common goal. This is a summary of the themes found in these daydreams. On paper, they seem harmless. After all, don’t women watch chick flicks to feel good? What’s wrong with that? What could be lustful about that? This was a common question I have had to ask myself, especially in the last couple years. What is lust? If looking at a person is going to get me in trouble for adultery, how do I navigate this thing called romance in a godly fashion? I came to realize one major distinction. If I am attracted to someone for something that they exhibit, it is okay. However, if my attention is drawn to him, for what he can do for me, then it is lust. After all, lust is self-seeking. Sex is in the context of marriage is a man and woman giving themselves to one another to become one; but sex outside of marriage is giving yourself under the guise to get something. I may have never given myself to anyone, however, I have used my imagination to gain something that wasn’t mine to have. I have found that I am using these daydreams, as well as fixated crushes (let’s call them as they are: infatuations with real men) to meet a need I have. In the last seven months, God has revealed that one of the identities I hold onto is my sexuality. I believe that I must be in a relationship to be convinced that I am loved. Nevertheless, that is only the beginning of the lies in this identity. I have also believed that if there are other women as a choice, I would not be picked. This would explain why in my stories, my protagonist is the only primary female lead in the story. I believe that a man would only be attracted for what I do. This explains why there is a bigger purpose for which the couple is connected (such as saving kids, participating in government).
Still...I find myself falling into this sin. I don’t want to be a person of lust, but I get caught when I’m thinking of a story. No more stories? Maybe. But my mind sometimes wanders, and how to make it stop? In Psalms 28:7, it discusses that the wicked are wiped away, because they don’t regard the Lord. Maybe that’s key. In the moments that my mind wants to stir up love before it’s appointed time, I need to start reminding myself that God loves me already. I need to start esteeming who He is. Maybe if I am satisfied completely in Him, I won’t find myself in want for a man. Real or imagined.