Monday, June 28, 2010

The Wild Ride

I LOVE roller coasters! I’m an official roller coaster junkie. We have actually planned vacations around new roller coasters. It’s sad really.

But there’s this moment…. you know the one I’m talking about. The moment between securing your seat belt and the first drop. It’s the giant climb up the GIANT hill. As the coaster click, click, clicks its way to the top of the hill I have me a “come to Jesus moment”. And it’s not a quiet, in my heart moment. No, this girl is making sure everyone strapped in with me is ready to meet their maker.

I don’t get it. I wait happily in line for hours. Grin from ear to ear when they strap me in. Then completely panic as we approach the crest of the first big hill. Every time I ride a coaster I have a moment of sheer panic where I am convinced that I. AM. GOING. TO. DIE!!!

I know it’s not true. I know that I’m not actually going to die. In fact I know that in about 3.2 seconds I’ll be having the time of my life. But I can’t help it. I can’t stop the panic from gripping my heart.

And right now, sitting at my perfectly safe desk in my perfectly safe office, I feel that panic. I can hear the click, click, click. I can feel the steady chug of the coaster pulling me to the crest of the hill. I feel the slight breeze, hear the nervous chatter, and see the clouds getting closer. In my heart the ride is just about to begin. And I am literally, physically trembling with anticipation.

I know it will be one wild ride. But, man, I’m sweating it.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Dear Miley, Rihanna, and Christina,

I’ve noticed a change in each of you recently. I’m pretty sure it was intentional. Freshening up your image as you release your new albums. And I have to say, you’ve each produced some high quality, creative music. You are all very talented.

I wonder though, why the need to change your image? Why the need to change lyrics from your former creative expressions to line upon line of sexual innuendos? Who told you that in order to sell records you need not be only talented but also a “sex symbol”? Why the sudden plunge into this world of "less is more" and "everything in excess"?

Do you not know that you are of infinite value? Has no one ever told you that you are loveable, not as an object, but as a woman? Haven’t you heard that you can be strong, and beautiful, and talented without selling out?

And yes, I truly believe that the new sexy image you have created is selling out. I’m disappointed that I have to explain your behavior to my daughters. They looked up to you. They admired you. But now you have joined your voice to the countless other voices shouting to our girls that women are not to be honored and cherished, but that we are objects to be lusted after, used and discarded.

And it breaks my heart… it breaks my heart to see you trying so hard, when you needn’t try at all. Some have said that you are young women trying to “find yourself”. I understand that. I too have traveled that road. I pray that you find what you are looking for. I have a sneaking suspicion that if you ever do find the peace that currently eludes you that it won’t be found in your fame, but in your value. And not your value as an artist, or a sex symbol. But in your value as a beautiful, loved, child of God.

Because under the makeup, extensions, and high heels… that is who you really are.


Monday, June 14, 2010

The Time In Between

Francesca Battistelli writes:

Don’t take much for this crazy world
To rob me of my peace
And the enemy of my soul
Says You’re holding out on me
So I stand here lifting empty hands
For you to fill me up again

But it’s the time in between
That I fall down to my knees
Waiting on what You’ll bring
And the things that I can’t see
I know my song’s incomplete
Still I’ll sing in the time in between

I feel like this is where I am living right now. In the time in between. It’s a season of transition. Of change. Of sifting sand. My footsteps are unstable. The path before me dim.

It’s tempting to look back and cling to what was. It’s scary to look forward and anticipate what will be. So I wait, in between. Sometimes scared. Sometimes filled with wonder. Sometimes anxious. Sometimes at peace.

I know that this time, this in between time, is important. I know that it’s not about rushing to the “next thing”. I know that there is purpose for the grey space between the leaving and the arriving. This twilight of the soul, where darkness recedes and light begins to fill the sky.

Here I know that sunrise is inevitable. Here I know that morning will come.

Yet I linger. In the soft light of in between. Hushed and silent. Listening. Watching. Waiting.

Thankful, for the time in between.
... You can listen to Francesca's The Time In Between here.

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

All in the Family

Confession…. When it comes to the “family of God” I’ve always felt like an outsider. Like I don’t really belong. Almost like an illegitimate child.

I’ve always been envious of those with a deep heritage of faith. Those whose parents & grandparents served the Lord. Those that were born into the family of God.

See, I wasn’t born into God’s family. My parents & grandparents didn’t raise me in church. I joined the family later in life. And unlike those born in, I’ve always felt like I haven’t quite earned my place just yet.

But I realized something this week… no one can be born into God’s family.

Hear me out.

We are all illegitimate children. Whether we were raised by alcoholics or preachers, we are all separated from God. We are all born into sin. And the only way that any of us can become part of God’s family is through adoption.

Joining God’s family is not through birth, but through choice. We must choose to allow Him to be our Father. He must choose to accept us as His child.

Do you realize what that means?

That means that I am just as loved as the pastor who stands behind the pulpit and preaches in the shadow of his father, and his father’s father. I am just as wanted as the missionary kid born in a remote village on the other side of the world. I am just as much His as the little girl who prayed to receive Christ while still too young to remember life without Him.

I am His. Not because of my parents’ faith. But because He picked me! He saw me, alone and orphaned, stuck in my sin, and he signed the papers and paid the price to make me His.

It’s just the way He does things… for each and every one of us. Regardless of our pedigree or our parents. Being born into a family that serves Christ doesn’t guarantee our place at His table; and being born into a family that doesn’t serve Christ doesn’t exclude us from becoming His.

Whether we were born in a palace or a pit we must all choose. And once the choice is made, we are His. Equally, fully, completely… Praise God!

“Even before He made the world, God loved us and chose us in Christ to be holy and without fault in His eyes. God decided in advance to adopt us into His own family by bringing us to Himself through Jesus Christ. This is what He wanted to do, and it gave Him great pleasure. So we praise God for the glorious grace He has poured out on us who belong to His dear Son. He is so rich in kindness and grace that He purchased our freedom with the blood of His Son and forgave our sins.” Eph. 1:4-7

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

I'd like to take 2/3 of married women out for coffee...

so we can have a little chat.

I found an article this morning. It has me good and mad. I was hoping to simmer down, but I haven’t yet.

Here’s some statistics from the article that have me all in a tizzy!

  • 62% of women admit to fantasizing about having sex with someone other than their spouse, while one in ten has already done so
  • 2/3 of married women would rather read a book, watch a movie, or take a nap rather than make love to their spouse

Let me get this straight… we’d rather read than make love to our spouse, but if Mr. Perfect were available we’d find the energy for him. Is it just me, or is this crazy?

Don’t get me wrong… I’m guilty. That book is quite appealing after a long crazy day. And temptation is something we will always wrestle with. Which is why it’s so important to deal with our run away thoughts. But the truth is; sex is important to our marriages.

Yes it can become a routine; yes we can be overwhelmed and not have the energy for it. But, ladies, if we’re going to invest our time and energy into something shouldn’t it be the guy we chose to love for eternity?

Fantasizing about Mr. Perfect isn’t going to strengthen our marriages. And for the record, the only difference between Mr. Perfect and your hubby is that he doesn’t live with you. Trust me the super sweet, compassionate guy at work or the gym or in the movie leaves his dirty underwear on the floor too.

There is no such thing as the perfect guy. One who will magically make your heart sing and all the cares of this world disappear. No, relationships don’t work like that. They take work. Lots and lots of hard, selfless, painful work. But it’s sooo worth it.

I love books. Really. I do. I collect them, treasure them, devour them. But sometimes, most of the time, the book needs to take a backseat to my lover.

Fantasy is so overrated. But a marriage that is filled with passion, now that’s something worth investing in.