New post on "awake my glory."

Posted a new entry on Awake My Glory entitled Life in the Veil: Solitude and Fellowship. It's the first of a set comparing the Christian life with the writer's life. Linked in my side bar. Rather than post everything twice, I'll just tell you every time I put up a new one.

Legacy.

This morning I was going through a friend's testimony (she's written it in a binder as part of some curriculum they do) and it led me on a hunt for something someone told me and my mom wrote down at some point. I didn't find the scrap of paper I was looking for -- it's from junior high, and I guess it's fallen out of my Bible and been lost years ago. It isn't the first time I've tried to go looking for it.

My search, however, led me to a box under my bed, the lid covered with so much dust I've gotten it all over my gym clothes and it's making my nose tickle. The dust could easily be a half-inch thick on this blue plastic lid.

So here I am, cross-legged in the gray-blue of an early morning in a quiet house with my sister sleeping in the other room and the sun trapped behind a cloud and some trees, trying to break through my east-facing windows, and against impossible odds sifting through old Lisa Frank paper, Bibles, and random scraps trying to find this little piece of spiral notebook paper torn out of one of my mother's journals and penned in green ink in her handwriting.

The paper, no doubt, is gone, fallen by the wayside years ago by a careless teenager.

I remember what the woman said to me. There was more to it than the one line I remember, but that word was spoken to a thirteen-year-old girl who had just begun asking questions that would set in motion the next decade of the course of her life.

Why am I rummaging through bed boxes for a thin piece of paper so small it can fall out of my Bible, despite the cover with a zipper on it to prevent just that?

Because her words haunt me. If you've read my "shadows of the sun" post, you know that until college I truly, truly believed I didn't have "a testimony." I also believed a slough of other lies, some I'm only now, at 23, realizing were falsehoods. Some I may yet believe.

She said, among other things that I don't remember, which set me on my quest this morning, "You will go deep, deep with God."

It was pretty, but I didn't know what to make of it at 13, and by 18 I'm pretty sure I didn't believe it. That I think of it now, while reading a personal testimony penned by a woman whose family has ministered to me in ways they will never comprehend, is strange--especially given how dreadfully far from God this path seems to have taken me.

Now, growing up in church, you acquire Bibles like children acquire McDonald's Happy Meal toys (of which my sister and I, consequently, had an incredible collection as well). I have kept, with one exception, as I lost it somehow, every Bible I've ever owned. The one I have now I never intend to replace.

But then God whispered, as I rummaged through old Bibles that now fall to pieces, "This is your legacy."

Yes, I thought the same thing. "Huh?"

"This is your legacy," he repeated.

I picked up the one from junior high and flipped through the pages. Then another and flipped through that. And the more I considered, the more I realized it's true. Each one represents another stage in my life.

The New Testament--a tiny, fat little Bible I had as an infant. I think it must've been my baby dedication Bible. I didn't carry it long, but it came to church with me and my "church baby" (a stuffed, thin sock with a little face made out of some kind of cloth, which I also still have).

The Illustrated Children's Bible--a red Bible I think most people have seen. I didn't carry this one long, but it's there nonetheless.

A gift Bible--a Bible given to me by my first grade Sunday school teacher, the one I lost. I didn't have it long, and can't remember much except it was brown, hardback, white pages, and had a personalized note from my teacher. It's strange to lament losing such a thing, but I'm sentimental, and didn't like that I misplaced it.

All three represent that my life, from the earliest stages, has been steeped in a Christian heritage. That is my inheritance. That is what I was born into. It represents generations of Christian heritage in my family.

A pink Bible--a Bible given to me in second grade at school. Covenant decided to give their students Bibles this year: girls got pink, boys got blue. Mine is now in about twelve pieces, and there may be something Biblically significant about that. It represents my education by Christian men and women.


A Precious Moments Bible--light green, and I probably carried it between third and sixth grade. I remember this is the Bible I would read during church when I was supposed to be listening to the preacher. Most of my time was spent reading Samuel or Judges.

A hard-back Experiencing God Bible--my first "big girl" Bible. My Nana gave it to me in junior high, and this is the one that contained the scrap of paper I was trying to find and never did. I had it in junior high and part of high school, if I remember correctly. It's also when I realized it's not sacrilege to take notes and write in your Bible. It represents growth, I think, and a kind of maturing from childish ways into the questioning phase. This is, remember, when the neverending questions began.

A leather-bound Experiencing God Bible--I received this one probably my sophomore or junior year. It was a gift from grandparents, as the other was getting pretty worn (the other one was my Nana's old one, and she gave it to me). This is the same Bible I have now, and I intend to use it until I can't read the pages anymore and they've all fallen out. Since it's current, all I suppose I can really say is that it's where I am now: some pages impossible to read, others still blank and untouched.

Two gift and award Bibles--Yes, "gift and award" Bible is a brand. They're the five to ten dollar gift Bibles that run rampant at graduations and special ceremonies. One of these was a graduation gift my senior year of high school. The other, given about the same time, was given to me along with a small gold cross pin as part of the Faith Honor Society induction ceremony. Each of us received one.

These two are two things: The one, transition from high school to college, from teenager to "adult." The other...Well, senior year was also the year I was rebaptized. Senior year marked the beginning of a journey that's still in progress. My fork in the road, so to speak. It's taken me down a path I'm not sure I'd have taken of my own accord.

Like Kadosh tells Taro, "No, you didn't choose this path. Nor would you have. But do you now wish it any different?"

Taro's response? "No. No, I don't want it any different."

So that's that. A legacy in the making. Where the road goes, no one knows; for who can say where the wind blows? Not bad for a girl who grew up thinking she didn't have a tale to tell.

Desire.

As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?
My tears have been my food day and night,
while men say to me all day long 'where is your God?'
These things I remember as I pour out my soul:
how I used to go out with the multitude,
leading the procession to the house of God, with shouts of joy and thanksgiving among the festive throng.

Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my savior and my God.

My soul is downcast withing me;
therefore I will remember you from the land of the Jordan, the heights of Herman--from Mt. Mizar.
Deep calls to deep in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers have swept over me.

By day the Lord directs his love,
at night his song is with me--a prayer to the God of my life.

I say to God my Rock, 'Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I go about mourning, oppressed by the enemy?'
My bones suffer mortal agony as my foes taunt me,
saying all day long, 'Where is your God?'

Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God.

~Psalm 63


As the deer panteth for the water, so my soul longeth after thee;
You alone are my heart's desire and I long to worship thee.
You alone are my strength, my shield; to you alone may my spirit yield;
You alone are my heart's desire and I long to worship thee.

~unknown.

I've discovered the reason for my restlessness, methinks. And why Matt Chandler, a pastor, seems to speak my language. You see, when you ask the same questions for so long, at some point half the frustration is that no one knows the answers. Questions a twelve-year-old can't articulate, but instinctively wants to ask.

And the questions begin to pile as the search for the Hound of Heaven begins. You see, for all our good intentions, we place more on ourselves than we ought in some respects, and not enough in others.

For instance, if the people of God have habitually been few in number but influential and powerful enough to frighten the most potent of governing authorities, why is it that now, when so large in number, our influence appears nil?

Or maybe that is the wrong question. Maybe the question is, why do so many professed believers lack that passion that's driven so many to their deaths in the name of Christ? Or, why aren't we being persecuted here? Or, if we are, how?

I mean, honestly---how?

For all our piety, righteousness is the last thing pursued. For all our prettiness, something ugly lurks beneath the surface, something that reeks so horribly the smallest child notices.

And yes, I'm well aware Christians are human.

But maybe that isn't the point.

Love is dangerous. Compassion is dangerous and grace is utterly terrifying. I've said that more than once; I'm not alone, and some of you (I'm assuming people read these ramblings of mine) probably think I"m clinically insane or borderline (if not over the border) blasphemous.

Which may actually be fine with me.

Like Paul, I can claim with a confidence that makes me blush that if heaven is granted by human merit, that God is somehow impressed with external behavior and ritual, then, quite frankly, I have no reason to sit up at night wondering if I've somehow missed God. And, like Paul, I count it all rot. What good is a Savior if I can save myself?

But let me pose another question (and yes, this all has a point, despite my side journeys).

Why is God a chore?

Let me phrase it this way: If I told my best friend that I had trouble coming up with anything to say to her, anything to go do with her, and any time to spend with her, she'd be rightly offended. This knowledge would trouble her deeply. And it should.

So why do we presume to look this great and mighty Master of the universe and say "You are a burden to me"? We'd never do it consciously, methinks, but we do.

I certainly have. And this troubles me.

Why don't I desire God? If God actively pursues us and we actively pursue him, then how can we possibly miss each other? Did God lose me? Did he hide his face from me? Certainly not.

If Robin and I are on campus looking for each other, even with both our cellphones damaged, we'll find each other eventually. It wouldn't be easy. Campus is a big place. But there's only so many near-misses before you get a hit.

So if 30,000 people are supposedly seeking the face of God, and God is seeking them, how can they miss each other? The odds should be at least as good as Robin and I finding each other on campus.

For starters, with the campus example, we both might think to look in the student union, or the library. Both would be very good starting places. The bookstore, next, perhaps. Then the cafeteria. If those proved fruitless, then possibly the courtyard or some other large common area where the other party would think to look.

Our options would narrow based on time of day (at lunch, most likely the cafeteria) and our general habits (I don't normally go to Chilton Hall, but I'm always in The Language Building, pre-graduation, anyway).

Such is the way of things, I imagine.

And yet, the strange part is, we all seem to have this general idea of what a disciple of Christ should look like, even though 99% of us never come close. I'm not saying that all Christianity looks the same, or that we should strive to be cookie-cutouts of each other.

But I am saying that Jesus himself said even the world would know the sheep from the goats, so to speak, the disciples from the...well, half-hearted followers. Paul was so terrified that his "labor would be in vain" that he visited and sent letters and messengers every chance he got all over the Mediterranean, just to make sure. Just to see. Just to know hope. Just to know he hadn't suffered for nothing.

Which implies that you can indeed suffer for nothing.

Which means you can die for nothing.

Which means you can go through all the motion and ritual and emotion and trial and error you like, but without the love of Christ, and for Christ, in your heart, making your heart thrill and pound against your breast, without that---it's all chasings after the wind.

Meaningless.

So then, the question becomes: What if I honestly don't think I have that kind of passion, love, and desire for Christ?

"But if any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask of God...." (James)

Remember, the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom. And it's out of this fear that we humble ourselves before God and submit to him.

The Spirit gives power, love, and a sound mind. He groans inside of us and is madly jealous for our souls. He's grieved when we sin; he's our counselor, the one who strengthens and encourages...the one who exhorts and rebukes, corrects and teaches.

O God, where are you;
I long for you and I seek you;
I want you. I need you. I'll die without you.

God, nothing satisfies. I know you and I crave you.
I know that the Lord is good; and that there is more of you than can possibly fill me up, for my cup runs over, and yet I want more.

My soul weeps in the watches of the night;
My heart wails and writhes within;
"A voice is heard in Ramah; great weeping and lament...
Rachel weeping for her children, for they are no more."

Stir my affections, O my God;
Come now and renew my spirit, for my eyes long to see your face, even though such will kill me.
And though he slay me, I will trust in him.
Make my heart thrill, lover of my soul.

Why can't I hear you; I want to know your voice.
Why can't I see you; I yearn to stand in your presence.
Why can't I feel you; it's your warmth and arms I crave.
Why can't I taste your love and your mercy; it's your righteousness for which I long.
Why can't smell the fragrance that is incense from your altar; where is my great high priest--
there ere the throne of grace.

Shaleh.

For whom have I in heaven besides you? And by what other name shall I be called? Yes, yes, I will come to you; and I will not be silent until you come. "Jesus come quickly; Jesus sing over us and smile at what you see. Come quickly, Lord; only show your face; revive us now from our lifeless state. We need your help; Oh, this world can wait--show us your grace and your mercy. Jesus come quickly."

"Save us, O Lord our God, and gather us from the nations;
Save us, O Lord our God, and glory in your praise.
Praise be to God the Father; to whom we lift our hands.
Praise be to God forever, and ever; let all your people say amen."

And so it ends where it began: where is this desire for the Most High? Who is this that longs for his presence? And why do I do nothing about it? Why do I sit in silence and burn within, burn until the light goes out? I am a match; permit me set something ablaze...or else I will combust, shrivel, and turn to ash.

God save me. I've gone mad.

Shaleh.

So anyway....

Apparently there's an "8 things about me" game going on, as I learned HERE. At any rate, I thought I'd play. So...


1. I have caught a stingray with a fishing pole.
2. I have been seen with a pack of people in a cemetery...wielding a machete.
3. I have been in denial about writing fantasy for years.
4. Contrary to many opinions, I don't like cotton candy.
5. I auctioned off France and finally made a deal...but had to throw in Italy to close it.
6. I have burned inchworms off a grill (or rather, I helped a friend do it).
7. I don't like Jane Austen's writing.
8. It's difficult for me to come up with eight things to say about me.

The state of man.

This is, more or less, a series of posts I wrote on the TD board that I thought I'd post here to see what happens. It's part of a much longer discussion you can find HERE. All quotes are from other people involved in the dialog. Subject: The total depravity of man. Debate: Is man completely depraved, partly depraved, or not depraved at all?

God is sovereign. By that I mean He created everything. He owns everything. He can and does in the context of time control everything. What we have in "free will" we have because God created it and gave it to us. It is not something we have that is outside of Him. It is something He could choose to control if He so chose to. I see nothing in scripture that says He can't. But then free will is nothing more than the ability to choose in God or to not choose Him in all the choices we make. And there are consequences to all the choices we make. There is in reality nothing free about free will.

Well said.

One thing I will say about OSAS is that at least it gives a complete answer.

Not entirely. It says that you can never lose your salvation, but, one, the implications are that if you're a Christian, you can't or won't sin...or you can do whatever the blazes you want and be saved by the skin of your teeth.

The extreme of the Arminian argument is that it places far too much emphasis on man's ability to "trump" God.

The problem in not believing in it is that no one seems to be able to quantify when it is you loose your salvation. Except those who say you loose it every time you sin. Those seem to be only two extremes that at least allow for an answer with any finality.

Even OSAS believers believe that there is an unpardonable sin. However, they can't seem to agree on what that is.

To believe in something in between seems to me to be fence sitting. Being undecided. Not knowing with any certainty if you are still in a state of grace.

Not necessarily. Fence sitting is when you attempt to take both sides. However, if you reject both sides because you cannot allow the logic when it unravels to its complete end, you force yourself to come up with a third option.

But if that one messes with anyone's head, read part of II Timothy two. That one'll mess with you. It goes:

"Here is a trustworthy saying: If we died with him, we will also live with him; if we endure, we will also reign with him.If we disown him, he will also disown us; if we are faithless, he will remain faithful, for he cannot disown himself."

I've stared at that one for months and not come up with a reasonable answer.

Personally, I really don't know on the whole "lose your salvation" thing.

I can't chalk it up to some kind of sin that gets you out, because that gets us back to a works-based system, which defeats the whole purpose of the Cross.

I can't make myself say a blanket statement declaring that "if you walk away, you were never saved to begin with," because it seems, once again, works-based.

I think that, in the end, a matter such as that will always come down to wheat and tares. I refuse to make that call when someone's soul is at stake. I just can't make myself go there.

The saddest dialogue recorded, when my great-grandfather died:

Grandmother: But at least you'll see him again.
Great-grandmother: Oh, honey, I hope so.

Per Calvin and Arminius (how do you spell this man's name? Bah!): I have a hard time assuming that two men can read Scripture and both be right. I also have a hard time assuming that one of them must be completely right and the other completely wrong, because I have real issues with both.

That said, two people can't be right; but both of them can be wrong. It's hardly fence-sitting to look at two jr. high boys fighting over what the capital of Italy is when one thinks it's Pisa, the other thinks it's Venice, and the truth is that it's Rome.

So, I say the capital of Italy is Rome, and both the kid who said Venice and the kid who said Pisa are wrong.

See? Scripture can't contradict itself. But its very possible for two men to interpret Scripture in a way that they contradict each other, and they both be wrong.

What's option three? That God is completely sovereign, and that he has made man completely responsible for his own actions; that God is willing for none to perish, and that he will "have mercy on whom he will have mercy"; that his followers know his voice, and they are called by his name.

Sometimes I honestly think that how (which is the question this whole debate tries to answer) isn't important.

I said that as a high school freshman to my teacher, and he disagreed with me. Course, I said this after three days of arguing with him over this point (me and two other girls). To this day, I still wonder how much it really matters.

In the end, "this is the end of the matter: to fear God and keep his commands" (Ecclesiastes 12).

I have always seen it as trying to obey God out of love. When you fail you have a blood covering. For those who believe and remain rebellious, well a parent will do what it takes to correct bad behavior. Or if the offense is bad enough, cut their ties forever.

You may have to forgive my belligerence on the matter. I had a prof in one of my classes spend forever on the subject of antinomianism, and it's left a very strange, unpleasant taste in my mouth.

The extreme of the Armenian argument is that it places far too much emphasis on man's ability to "trump" God.

You want to know what disturbs me even more?

Heb 6:4-6 For it is impossible for those once having been enlightened, and having tasted of the heavenly gift, and becoming sharers of the Holy Spirit, and tasting the good Word of God, and the works of power of a coming age, and having fallen away, it is impossible for them again to renew to repentance, crucifying again for themselves the Son of God, and putting Him to open shame. LITV

These verses tell me that if it is possible to fall away (and I believe in rare circumstances it is) that salvation is then for that person unreachable. As Wesley so aptly puts it.

"Heb 6:6 - And have fallen away - Here is not a supposition, but a plain relation of fact. The apostle here describes the case of those who have cast away both the power and the form of godliness; who have lost both their faith, hope, and love, Heb_6:10, &c., and that wilfully, Heb_10:26. Of these wilful total apostates he declares, it is impossible to renew them again to repentance. (though they were renewed once,) either to the foundation, or anything built thereon. Seeing they crucify the Son of God afresh - They use him with the utmost indignity. And put him to an open shame - Causing his glorious name to be blasphemed."

Yea. He is sovereign. Those who truly walk away are lost forever.

Which means the rest truly are just having a bratty moment. But yes, I've read that passage a thousand times too. I was stuck on Hebrews for the better part of the summer a couple years back, which is where about half of what I now believe comes from.

Hebrews is both a terrifying and fascinating book.

The other thing I was trying to say is like when the gospel is preached is it always accompanied with God's power to enlighten harden hearts.

"A stumbling block to the Jews and foolishness to Gentiles." You have to wonder who's left in that mix. Then, for us to be "neither Jew nor Greek," we must become something completely different.

He says that the words he speaks are spirit and life and I wonder if when we speak his words in telling the gospel if it is the same, that they contain the power of God to awaken the spiritually dead.

"...a spirit of power, love, and a sound mind."

Read...Is it Philippians? Anyway. There's a passage that clearly states the same power that raised Christ from the dead is within in. Very scary if you think about it. But the answer to your question is yes. Very much yes. Paul spends a large amount of time on the subject.

Then the passage goes on with - For Jesus had known from the beginning which of them did not believe and who would betray him. He went on to say, "This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless the Father has enabled him."

Which makes me agree with you again Rem that none is without excuse.

That's all that matters. Kidding. You know if I'm wrong I'll admit it (eventually).

All scripture is God breathed. Anything that comes from man has to be compared to scripture in order to determine its validity. Whether that person be a modern or an ancient theologian. Scripture is the only thing we have to rightly divine the truth of things. That it is sometimes misused or is poorly understood not withstanding. It is still the only thing we have...

Do you realize what I can do with John 3? I had to, for a story I'm writing with a cult in it. What's even worse is what I did with Jesus' breaking of bread and drinking of wine in the Last Supper.

I'm a writer. I take Scripture, knowing full well what the passage means, and let my antagonist twist and pervert it until you wouldn't even recognize it. Ask Zoe or Andrew; they've seen it.

I had one character convinced that whenever he kills and devours someone's flesh and blood he literally devours their soul--because "life is in the blood" (OT...Pentateuch) and the soul is the life of man. When I was done, the logic actually made sense.

Ask anyone. I'm the context-nazi (someone actually called me that and mocked me for it).

I also don't think you're meaning that I should just take John 3 and make it say whatever the blazes I want it to (because, frankly, I can). Nor do I think a blanket "read the Bible" is appropriate either.

In fact, both of you would agree, methinks, that the teaching of Scripture should be complete, and that it should be done with fear and trembling, as anything you teach and someone believes as a result is held accountable to God.

In other words, if I teach you a heresy on John 3 and you believe it, and you act accordingly, you're still responsible for your sin...but so am I, because I gave you the go-ahead.

Which is why I freak when my best friend asks me some things.