Thursday, May 28, 2009

Poop

My apartment complex has this one particular rule that I never follow: you have to clean up after your dog. I hate picking up dog poo. It's gross, it's smelly and sticky, and nasty, and even with a bag on my hand, I can't stand the texture of the stuff. So, every time my dog (Penelope Laine) goes number two on the grass outside my door, I look the other way, make sure there's no maintenance guys or conscientious neighbors around, and leave the mess on the lawn. I figure, next time it rains, which seems like all the time this month, it'll dissolve the mess and dissipate it, destroying the evidence. So, today, when I took Penny out, she did her business and as she does so, I hear the voice of my upstairs neighbor from their balcony. Let me describe this neighbor. He is a tall, lanky guy, with a ton of black tattoos all over his shoulders, and he normally wears a pair of Wranglers, held up by a leather belt with a buckle the size of my head, along with a tucked in white wifebeater. So, I hear this guy talking on the phone, and the comment he says to his listening audience that floats down to my already somewhat cranky ears is something to this effect, "aw, now that b---- downstairs isn't even going to f---ing clean up her dog crap, again!" This did not make me happy. I stormed back inside with my puppy, and immediately complained to Andrew, my fiance, about the insensitive comment. I then got ready to go run an errand to Hobby Lobby I had already planned on doing, all the while fuming about the comment. I thought about all the ways the situation could have gone, and came up with witty, biting comments I could have said back rather than just passively letting him insult me like that. The best one I came up with was, in so many words, "How about you shut up, go to the nearest liquor store, get yourself another case of Bud Light, beat your girlfriend and stay the heck out of my business, ya dumb redneck!?!?!" (I know, looking back on it, it's not even that great of an insult.) I was extremely angry at this guy's insensitivity.

Then, as I perused the aisles of Hobby Lobby, looking for felt, canvas, and other such crafty items I needed, I realized I wasn't really mad at the neighbor for his comment. I was mad that he had called me out on my not following the rules. I was irked because he drew attention to my already nagging voice that always shows up in the back of my head that tells me I should suck it up and pick up the poo. The dumpster really is only 100 feet or so from the grass anyways, so I wouldn't even have to carry it that far. Just because it's a rule I don't like doesn't mean I get to ignore it. I don't really like stopping all the way at stop signs, but my personal happiness doesn't really matter to any cop that pulls me over for barrelling through an intersection. Rules are rules, and we are to "give to Caesar what is Caesar's. (Matt. 22:21)" This means that, as long as a rule put in place by man doesn't go against what God has required, we need to follow it.

Then, I thought about it more. I was the insensitive one. I've stepped in dog poo myself on more than one occassion, and it's very inconvenient. If it's so terrible for me, why should I leave a whole new fresh pile of it there for someone else to step in? If I'm supposed to be learning how to "love [my] neighbor as [myself] (Mark 12:31)," shouldn't I practice one of the most disgusting tasks known to me as a way to serve them? Even more than that, how am I being a witness to the change in my life that belief in Jesus brings if I'm disregarding these simple rules? What if my not-so-pleasant neighbor overheard me talking to someone on the phone, as I went on and on about how great church is, and how much about God I'm learning, all the while leaving Penny's mess on the grass? That does nothing more than perpetuate the already prevalent opinion that Christians are hypocrites, and are just as self-centered as anyone else. It makes the hope and love that the Gospels talk about look like nothing more than just a story, rather than a life-changing fact. I'm not saying that my picking up poo would help bring my neighbor to belief, since no one can do that but God, despite my poor witness. But, I could at the very least, try to change his opinion of what a Christian is based on my actions. Needless to say, I'll be carrying a baggie in my pocket from now on, just in case.

Wednesday, May 27, 2009

Guts

Acts 2:42-47: "All the believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, and to fellowship, and to sharing in meals (including the Lord’s Supper), and to prayer. A deep sense of awe came over them all, and the apostles performed many miraculous signs and wonders. And all the believers met together in one place and shared everything they had. They sold their property and possessions and shared the money with those in need. They worshiped together at the Temple each day, met in homes for the Lord’s Supper, and shared their meals with great joy and generosity—all the while praising God and enjoying the goodwill of all the people. And each day the Lord added to their fellowship those who were being saved."

There's a phrase in this passage that really bothers me. It bothers me to the point that I had to get out of bed (which is very comfortable, by the way) just to write about it. The phrase is: "They worshiped together at the Temple each day." This is an amazing testimony of the courage that can come from the Holy Spirit when you follow God without inhibitions. If you look back to the Gospels, where are the apostles and other believers right after Jesus' crucifixion? They are hiding. They are terrified of being found by the Jewish militants, the ones that killed their leader, and so they stay in this room with all the doors locked, waiting for something to happen. Then, Jesus appears out of nowhere, and gives them all a great speech about how they should not be afraid, and then he breathes on them and says, '“Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you.” Then he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive anyone’s sins, they are forgiven. If you do not forgive them, they are not forgiven.” (John 20:21-23)' So, they've seen their Savior, realized that death has no power, and are all charged up with the Holy Spirit to go out and testify about great things and take on the world, right? Look at the next couple verses. Thomas isn't there, so he doesn't believe the story the other apostles tell him. Then, around eight days later as the text says, they're all back together in the LOCKED ROOM. Jesus appears AGAIN, proves he's back, and then they all go out and start taking on the world. Wait, I take it back. They go fishing (John 21), returning back to the things that are comfortable and familiar to them, and also to the things that are removed from the city of Jerusalem and all the turmoil that is probably still going on in the religious community. Then, you skip ahead to Acts 2, where the apostles are joined by more believers, where they're meeting in, you guessed it, a LOCKED ROOM. Then, this amazing thing happens. There's this wind, and these tongues of fire, and everyone rushes out and starts proclaiming the truth in languages they don't even naturally speak. There's this awesome unity that comes from all of them testifying together, and they start living in this Utopian harmony most of us don't even know how to imagine. It's a foreign picture that is not usually seen in Christianity today, especially in America. All these believers then start meeting in the Temple every day. This happens to be the same Temple that housed the Jewish leaders that put Jesus to death. It's the veritable 'Lion's Den.' This is where the new believers begin meeting. The doors are unlocked, the windows are open, and everyone is worshiping in harmony in the middle of the most dangerous place a follower of Christ could be. This is such a huge deal to me, I can't believe I've never noticed this in the story before. How many of us, (and I'm talking about myself even more than any of those that might be reading) live in our "safe rooms" on a constant basis. We go to our church, go to our small groups even, talk about God there, and that's it. At work, we try to keep a professional image and might stretch to the point of having an inspirational mug on our desk, but that's the extent of our testimony. In life, we stick to our comfort zones, and never even think about maybe, possibly, stepping into those places where we are scared the most and yet we could do the most good. I'm not saying we should all go start hanging out in biker bars, unless you feel the need to be there, but there has to be that one place where you KNOW you could be a little more outspoken, and maybe help just one more person. It's a practice in being passionate in the most uncomfortable and nerve-wracking of situations. It's a concept that I know I could work on, and am praying to see what God moves me to do, and where he thinks I should go. It's something that I believe every Christian should be praying for, in a hope that with our unashamed testimony, "each day the Lord [can add] to [our] fellowship those who [are] being saved. (Acts 2:47)"

Intro: Passion

According to anyone that interacts with me, my blog title does not describe me. I'm a very quiet person who doesn't voice her opinions. For as much as I love people and being around them, I tend to keep to myself. As a kid, and through Junior High and High School, I was the one that would go to the library, check out as many books as was allowed by library rules (which was 15), and have them all read and returned within the two week due date. I was, and am a nerd. I haven't always been O.K. with that either. I didn't like being "the smart kid," the one that turned in her tests 15 minutes before anyone else did, and always got straight A's. Being that person is what makes you unpopular, and I lived for people's approval. It's something that I still struggle with today, even while saying that people's opinions don't matter, and that I should live for God. I tend to be ashamed of my convictions, and even doubt them, not based on their validity, but on how many people could potentially be offended. So, any passions I might have get kept under wraps, just to make others more comfortable.
But, through prayer and constant dissapointment in my timidity, I've realized something that is actually pretty obvious. I should never be ashamed of a God given gift. Not only should I not be ashamed, it is WRONG for me to not use it. For me to do that is like saying, "Hey God, thanks for my brain. It's a great brain, really. It's nice, and shiny and new and wonderful, and really great for forming opinions and stuff. But, couldn't you have given me a little more beauty instead? I mean, the knowledge and potential you gave me is great, but I really think people would like me better if I was just a little more pretty. But, really, thanks!" Anything that I become passionate about should be expressed unashamedly. That's what this blog will be about. It's a way to get me started on expressing issues that I deal with and am excited about. More to come soon!