Ruffling Religion’s Feathers: Blue Like Jazz

Christian fundamentalists hate it.
Young evangelicals love it.

It  seems Steven Taylor’s adaptation of Donald Miller’s best-seller, Blue Like Jazz is doing much more than telling Don’s story. It seems it is also ruffling more than a few religious feathers in the process which, quite honestly, thrills me with a fierce and fiery passion of a thousand suns.

Eight Years ago, I was intrigued when the speaker for our campus-wide worship service pointed out a cute little illustration of a rabbit named Don wearing a space suit chasing a sexy carrot all the way to the moon.

I imagined myself, as Don Rabbit chasing my “Sexy Carrot ” down the street, to the moon & to Oregon. Only differences between my story and Don Rabbit’s is that Don finally caught Sexy Carrot, tried to eat it … and choked to death.  My “Sexy Carrot” is a better competitor who continues to elude capture to this day… and I have a pulse.

You can see the pursuit here. ( Don Rabbit’s, not mine.)

I was even more intrigued when I began reading this book, it’s tag-line reading: “Non-Religious Thoughts On Christian Spirituality.”

What many Christian organizations seem to view as unnecessarily crude, I see as a fresh and vividly truthful twist on faith based… anything.

Sure, most “Christian” films leave you feeling hopeful by the final scene. Maybe God puts a losing team in the state championship or the sterile coach and his wife are finally able to conceive. Maybe the emotionally and verbally abusive husband with a porn addiction gives his life to Christ and wins back the favor of his wife thereby converting her in the process. Now, there’s nothing wrong with these types of movies. I actually enjoy them on occasion. My point, and I believe the point of Blue Like Jazz, is that following Christ doesn’t mean that you’re going to get everything you want in life. Blue Like Jazz doesn’t fill you with false hope that your story is going to have a happy ending in this life. It’s not a one-way ticket to a painless existence and you don’t always fall asleep at the end of the day with a warm and fuzzy feeling of existential or spiritual resolve. If that’s the only reason we have for following Him, we may want to reevaluate our faith.

Personally, I loved the book as well as the film.

It’s unfortunate that the churches and believers in opposition can’t see that BLJ speaks to those of us who snuck away from a sheltered background of rigid religious doctrine, searched for purpose in all of the wrong places only surviving such Godlessness through His Grace and lived to praise God for His compassion. BLJ certainly ruffled religion’s feathers, but then again, didn’t Jesus Christ himself?

נמחל לי

Forgive to Love

Personally, I think I’m a pretty likable person. Then again, one could argue that I am a bit biased.

You see, I’m one of those who is either adored or despised. There is no middle ground, no gray area which is probably why I found myself on my knees for the past hour facing the full length mirror which hangs on my bedroom closet door. I suppose I was attempting to explain the person staring back at me why I don’t deal well with resentment.

The English language contains some pretty powerful phrases.

“I love you,” – ”I hate you,” and so forth.

However, one of the most powerful and meaningful phrases I personally could hear is seemingly very simple.

“I forgive you.”

The human race seems to either underestimate the power of this seven letter alphabetical combination or understand it to such a degree they have discovered its lack of usage can actually be used as a weapon to commit emotional homicide.

It’s inevitable. At some point within the span or your life you will make an offense. You will either intentional or intentionally hurt feelings. You will make mistakes, step on toes and anger another person. The ideal process of absolution is to admit said offense and offer a sincere plea for the offended party’s forgiveness.

Why?

There is something deep-rooted within each of us that longs for this exoneration, for love.

God gave His people the Ten Commandments. Apparently, they felt the need to subdivide them into more legalistic forms of the Law. (For example: you cannot write or erase on the Sabbeth, nor should you shave your beard or the temples of your head, and so forth.)

Because of this, when Jesus came be-boppin’ along, he saw how humans tend to overcomplicate the simplistic so he gave us an even more simplified version:

Luke 10:27
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’^[a]; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’^[b]”

So what does this have to do with the price of tea in China, you ask?

Nothing. However, it has everything to do with our actions towards others.

If the greatest of God’s commandment’s is Love, our need to be forgiven makes perfect sense.

If you want to test your own dedication to the Love relentlessly, watch just how quickly and joyfully, (or how slowly and reluctantly) you forgive others.

That’s not a reflection many of us would like to acknowledge.

God isn’t complicated. Oh contraire.

We: the chronically imperfect, the perpetually impressionable, the persistently impervious are so hell bent and determined that we must work for our own salvation rather than accept His Grace freely given the moment Jesus drew His last breath on the cross.  We claim to follow Him yet our insistence to instead follow some stringent “holy” checklist that God never actually typed out proves otherwise.

Luke 10:27
“Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind’^[a]; and, ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’^[b]”

The rest falls into place for the good of God and His glory.

“All you need is love. Love is all you need.”

John Lennon got it. Why can’t we?

Christian Atheism

The Christian Atheist

A few weeks ago, I received an unexpected email from one of my closest friends.

It was one of those rare moments in my life when I felt completely appreciated for the first time and respected by someone I’ve looked to for years as somewhat of a spiritual advisor. Even though he’s a whopping 11 months younger than me, I’d always seen him as the older one, the more mature one out of the two of us and most certainly the more emotionally stable. I always found myself seeking his approval. I wanted to make him proud of me. I wanted to give him a reason to feel proud to be my friend.

Unfortunately, too often have I fallen face first into the mud, failed miserably at being that person he could be proud to show off as one of his oldest and dearest friends. He’s watched me fail too many times so when I began to read the words he wrote in his email, I was completely blown away.

He told me nearly everything I’d ever wanted to hear him say. It was kind, compassionate, encouraging words of praise I never dreamed he’d utter. An uncontrollable flood of tears streamed down my face before I reached the second sentence of the first paragraph. I didn’t know what to say…

So I didn’t say anything.

It was four days before I finally responded, partially because I was somewhat in shock, but mostly because what I really wanted to say in response was far from thankful.

I realized that moment that this person whom I’ve loved so deeply for so many years has absolutely no clue who I am anymore.

Sure, what he sees is the woman of God I want to badly to become. What he doesn’t see is how difficult it is for me to attain this goal. I am not the person he described in that email… yet. I hope to find her again someday. I used to be her. She was stronger. She was hopeful. She was faithful.

Then there’s me: this faded and jaded excuse for the “her” I can’t seem to find. I know better and yet I find myself texting someone I honestly don’t want to see or hear from simply because I am so completely lonely. Surprisingly, I’m not even emotionally attached to this person, but I am lonely as hell so I send the text praying to God in the same moment that the person on the receiving end doesn’t answer. Every day I don’t hear from him makes me stronger, but just when I feel I’m about to find “her” again, he pops his head back in the door and ruins the progress I’ve made. It’s not his fault. I don’t blame him. This is my problem. I just hope he forgets I exist. I pray for him every day, but without a miracle, his presence in my life is toxic. He’s like a drug I’m not completely addicted to. I don’t have to have it all of the time, but when I get a little taste of it, my good sense and everything I am takes a back seat to my raging hormones which for some reason seem to be ridiculously similar to that of a teenage boy.

“My spirit is so willing, but my flesh is too frail. My lips, they loosen, this fortress fails.”

I don’t want this. I want it out of my life. I want the door closed and dead bolted. I’ve been trying to do it myself, but I’m not as strong as I used to be.

I wish I could believe you, Heath. You told me I was good enough, that God sees I’m good enough. I wish I could believe that.

I wish I didn’t know better. I wish you did.

“Just because you didn’t start well doesn’t mean you can’t finish well.”

Lent began 70 minutes ago. 2012′s Season of Bright Sadness proves to be much more of a challenge than 2011.

Then again, that is my flesh talking. You see, it’s not at all fond of the idea of no boys, no beer, and no social networking.

Why?

Because it’s been having far too much fun for the past four months punching holes in my faith that my spirit has been trying diligently to repair and this time, I have absolutely no excuse for my behavior. I dropped the ball. I messed up. I turned my back on Him after experiencing Him like I never had. I did this and I am miserable because of it.

Please note the excessive usage of the word, “I” in the previous paragraph.

The thing is, I know first hand that “my” life is not mine. “My” body is not for me to use as I see fit. “My” words are not mine to condemn, scorn, judge, seduce or instigate. I know exactly what to do and I have not been doing it.

No wonder I am where I am. I’ve made them idols before him. I’ve made the idea of a romantic relationship an idol before my God. It’s no wonder I am consistently disappointed by the opposite sex. It’s no wonder I am 29 and still single. Why would God allow me to have something if I desire it more than I desire him?

Do they make me happy? Well that’s a great big negative. Are they there for me when I need them? Do they stick around and do they desire God before me? Do they desire God at all? All signs point to, no.

The only being who has ever made me completely happy is the one being I constantly neglect. He is my too often neglected, under-appreciated best friend.

I’m sorry, God. I’m not the most consistent follower, but one thing’s for sure. At least I’ve learned not to whine and give up when I fall. I could say I’ve learned this with age. I could say that, but it wouldn’t be accurate. I haven’t learned not to fall. I haven’t learned how best to fall without hurting myself too badly. I haven’t learned how to avoid the pot holes, and I certainly haven’t learned how to run without getting tired.

What I have learned is no matter how often, hard, far I fall or how long it takes for me to make it to the end of the race, he’ll still be standing there, cheering me on when I cross the finish line.

Another Song About Rain

I’m wide awake,
But I wish that I was dreaming.
Every mistake
That I make just makes me fall.

As far as I know
If you cut me I’d be bleeding.
But lately I ain’t
feeling much at all.

And I
am here
again
shut away
so ashamed
of this sin.

I confess
These transgressions
And I’m the
only one to blame.
So I’m begging,
Please, just drown me in Your rain.

It’s hard to hear
When the world is screaming

I hear Your voice

But their lies just drown it out.

I know You’re here
And I know You’ve never left me
So I’ll listen till Your
voice drowns out the crowd.

And I
am here
again
shut away
so ashamed
of this sin.

I confess
These transgressions
And I’m the
only one to blame.
So I’m begging,
Please, just drown me in Your rain.

x2

You heavens above.
Let the clouds shower down.
Let the earth open wide,
rain on me.

An Even Brighter Season of Bright Sadness

Matthew 5:3 Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

There is a throbbing pain in the pit of my stomach that pulsates throughout my entire body. It’s a sickness I’ve felt before which is actually very comforting considering the absence of said sickness has been the subject of most of my prayers lately. I’ve felt it before and it always seems this “sickness” is the storm before my calm.

“The air between us is
heavy and thick
I’d breathe it in deeply
but my spirit is sick.
It’s intoxicating
a holy seduction
inviting me in
but I’m drunk with corruption.”

I found myself tonight during worship doing more talking than worshipping and the only words I felt compelled to whisper were, “I’m sorry,” and “I’m scared.” Now, as for my reasons behind this apology, you’ll have to use your imagination. Some stories are best left untold. As for the reason behind my fearful confession, I was clueless until about five minutes ago.

More often than not I find myself feeling overwhelmed with an uncontrollable sense of absolute terror. Why? Tonight I realized there is actually a very simple explanation for this fear.

I do not feel the presence of God around me and that, my friends, scares the shiz out of me.

My dad painted this picture once before when this “sickness” infected my spirit.

There is a perpetual war being fought between my Father and the father of lies and God has his dukes up fighting hard for me. Yes, I feel completely abandoned by Him, but why? Has he abandoned me?

Well of course not.

While I sit here beating my head against a brick wall wondering if God took a wrong turn somewhere south of Palestine, I’m too busy freaking out to realize the reason he isn’t holding me isn’t because he’s not with me.

It’s because He is standing in front of me, between me and the one determined to destroy me and my GOD is fighting FOR ME.

My dad keeps telling me God has big plans for me, that he will be blessed through the ministry of my brother and I. And although I cannot imagine how God is going to use me, this disappointment of a child to bring honor to His kingdom, I sure hope He can. I guess that’s what I was supposed to learn today: that we are no longer sinners subject to the law, but are saints redeemed by His grace.

***

Lent is just around the corner. Pretty sure I am about to embark on yet another eye opening Season of Bright Sadness. Bring on the rain.

Another Apathetic Definition

Will I ever learn to balance my relationship with God with a romantic relationship?

This shouldn’t even be an issue. Finding this so-called “balance” isn’t what I need. It’s actually far from what I actually believe.

“No man will ever take the place of my God.”

That is the ultimate significance of my tattoo and yet I continue to try and “balance” these two relationships with each other. The truth I continue to ignore is the unimaginable sovereignty of God. He IS the balance. There is nothing on this earth I can acquire that is even as remotely absolute, unconditional and boundless as my Creator. Therefore, this non-existent “balance” could never even begin to hold up it’s end of the deal if ever measured against the indescribable magnitude of God’s love.

Have you ever been so angry at God you completely and intentionally ignore any attempt He makes to get your attention? He’s giving you what you need but you’re thoroughly pissed off  that He’s yet to give you the one thing you’ve ever begged and pleaded for. You’re so angry that you go against everything you believe just because you can, out of spite. You rip open the scar of a healed wound just to see if this new self-inflicted injury could hurt so deeply it would divert your attention from the real issue.

What do you do when nothing happens? You expect to feel this intense pain. You expect to see blood spilling at your feet but instead, you see and feel absolutely nothing. No pain, no remorse, no blood flow… nothing.

This was the moment I realized just how far I’d fallen from the person I was created to be.

I knew what I was doing was wrong. This wasn’t me. This wasn’t the daughter my parents had raised. This wasn’t the woman of God I’d worked so hard to become.

Instead I’ve become this shell of a person. Lately, there isn’t much that affects me in any way. I’m not happy, I’m not sad. I’m not excited, angry, thankful… I feel absolutely nothing and honestly, it scares and confuses the ever loving shiz out of me.

This is apathy in it’s purest form which is not at all a state with which I am familiar.

I want to run to Him. I want to fall down at His feet and tell Him how stupid and reckless I’ve been and how sorry I am for being such a dysfunctional, disappointing daughter and a weak-ass excuse for a believer. But at this point, the only thing I feel is a relentless distance between myself and the only being who can reignite my conviction.

At this point, I wish He’d break my heart. At least I’d feel something.

A Few Thanksgiving Advances

I prefer solitude. Most people do not understand this. In fact, most see it as unhealthy, as some sort of social phobia. It’s been suggested I pop a pill for that. The concept they don’t seem to grasp is the root of my reclusive preference. For me, worship is a very personal, very intimate expression of appreciation. Most times, when I disappear from the proverbial grid  it’s not because I’m running away. I just want to be alone with my Dad.

It’s like driving on 3-year-old motor oil. Don’t drink and drive. Don’t think and attempt to run three miles.  I’m much too pensive for my own good. Not sure how much more my aching muscles can take. I sense a revolt in the near future.

I’d rather do those things alone rather than do them with anyone other than the person I’d planned to do them with initially. I’ve got a lifetime worth of memories I’ve yet to make stored up just in case I stumble upon someone worth making those memories with. 99.8% of those memories I’ve been saving, I’ve had to make on my own with the exception of my 20th birthday and my 27th New Year. Tonight, I made yet another memory by myself, but knew I wasn’t alone.

I turned down Nashville. I don’t want to go for the wrong reason and this time, I’d most definitely be running and it seems for once, my “gut” steered me in the right direction. I’d like to think this newfound spiritual sense of hearing has revealed itself due to an intense desire on my part to actually want what He wants for me.

Psalms 37:4
Delight yourself in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart.

Thing is, most of the time, we expect God’s desires to be our desires. What we don’t understand is that we have to let go of the things we think we want and need. We have to realize that our one true desire should actually be whatever God desires for us and until then our selfish prayers are as senseless and inaudible to Him as a conversation with Charlie Brown’s parents.

Something is whispering lies into the ears of the people I love. Something has mistakingly assumed that it has the right to destroy an amazing friendship I’ve been blessed to find, sabotage my family, shake the foundations of another family I care for deeply and crush the spirit of one of the best friends I’ve ever had. I recognized this earlier tonight after I made an apology to a friend I’d unintentionally offended. Now normally when one accepts another’s apology and forgives, a sense of peace can not only be felt by both forgiver and wrongdoer, but can also be seen in their countenances. However, this was not the case tonight. This is when I realized that there was something sinister at work here. His lack of eye contact, the hard lack of expression on his face was unnerving and although I’ve done everything humanly possible to demonstrate just how sorry I am, I see now that this is not a situation I can mend. And if you, dear reader, whomever you may be, feel led to do so, please say a prayer for my friend. Please pray for God to soften his heart and for him to see and understand the sincere intentions of others because we sure do miss his precious smile.

I see the pain in her face, the longing for acceptance and the confusion as to why she doesn’t feel this. I just want her to try and understand and be herself instead of worrying so much about what “they” think. She needs peace, love, understanding and compassion. She’s has a beautiful heart and I hate seeing it break.

I’ve already thanked Him for answering my prayers. I know He already has and I can’t wait to hug his neck again or see them laughing together. Faith is thanking God in advance for prayers he will answer and I know he’s already answered mine.

Love vs Legalism

“Perhaps the mot dangerous place for a Christian to be is in safety and comfort” – Shane Claiborne, The Irresistible Revolution

The massive extent of the devastation here is surreal. The affected is so widespread just finding a place to unload and clean up what’s left is overwhelming. Unfortunately for volunteers, the red tape we have to sort through is irritating enough. Permits are required for tractors, dozers and chainsaws. As for those of us who are itching to dig into the rubble and make a dent, we’re snubbed due to our lack of training by disaster relief “officials” or as I’ve decided to refer to them as the dreaded, “yellow jackets”. So we did what any mild-mannered group of well-adjusted young adults would do. We rebelled.

Instead of being led around by the nose and strung along by the politics we set out  on our own to find someone who, not only needed our help, but didn’t get their knickers in a twist over our lack of “disaster relief training”. They accepted our help with open arms, literally. When we finally found a family to help, we discovered they were  young newly-weds who had only been living in the home for about six months. The wife was trying her best not to break down in front of us. Now, rarely do I feel compelled to hug anyone, much less a total stranger, but she looked so lost so I asked her if I could give her a hug. So there I was, hugging someone I didn’t know as she broke down in my arms. It was a good hug and to be completely honest, I think I may have needed that more than she did.

The way I see it, Jesus didn’t sign a release form, he didn’t get a permit to heal the blind, he didn’t wait for someone to tell him who to love, he just went out into the world, pretty much said, “screw ‘The Man’”, (in some form or fashion), and found people who wanted and were willing to accept His love. He stepped on many official toes in the process. The way I see it, if we as His followers do not ruffle a few feathers, draw blood from the toes we step on or choose love over legalism, we’re following the wrong “Man.”

-Lu

Finding my “Calcutta”

“Don’t call us saints; we don’t want to be dismissed that easily.”  Dorothy Day

We’re 4 hours from our destination. Our bellies are full from a questionable BBQ lunch, (or a Subway sandwich if your stomach is as finicky as mine) thanks to donations via our lovely little town of Ruston, LA. Considering it may be the last the last hearty meal we have for several days, we made it count. My new friend, Doug, just dozed off next to me with his mouth wide open in the back seat of Chris’ dad’s SUV aka the Suburbasaurus, and it’s taking every ounce of self-control I posess to supress my inner 5-year-old because all I can think of at this point is sticking my finger in his mouth. Chris, our chauffeur, owns the local bike shop, Turbo Goat, and is the mastermind behind this little 2-day-expedition. His girlfriend, Kailyn, is curled up like a cat in the front passenger seat. Just before we loaded up and hit the road this morning, we discovered she’d gotten her high school diploma from CPHS six years after I accepted mine. I appreciate her disenchantment with her high school experience considering I couldn’t relate more.

Now, normally I don’t address a person by using their first and last names, but come on. This guy’s name is DOOGIE ROUX. It’s as if he was born for that! Mr. Roux is sitting behind Kailyn and seems to have that thoughtful emo air about him as he glances back and forth from the trees blurring past us on the side of the highway. My other new friend, Sean, has been amusing the five of us with tales of flour stuffed wet paper towels, Matlock & how he introduced them to the backside his father’s scull. Suprisingly, we’re not at all packed like sardines and considering we have no clue where we’ll be sleeping or exactly how shocking the scene we are about to drive into will be, I think we’re all pretty much prepared for anything. We’re all completly self-reliant, bringing our own food, water, pillows, tents & etc. because we all understand and appreciate the fact that this isn’t about our needs being met, but rather about us stepping away from our comfortable existances, our shelters, our running water, our comfy beds and hair dryers in order to show this community that we will not stand aside and watch them suffer as their world is swept away in the vortex of an F5 tornado.

It’s strange to think how by shifting focus to away from yourself and by helping others and making yourself your last priority you are fulfilling your purpose as the being God created you to be.

Matthew 20:16
“So the last will be first, and the first will be last.”

I believe this is why I exist. Most of my days and nights are spent lonely, uneventful, self-loathing and regretful. Why? Because most of my days are spent working to make money to pay bills I shouldn’t have for things I most definitely do not need instead of loving intentionally. I’m a frusterated, miserable and completely misplaced shell of a person without this. I may not earn that degree, see a wedding ring on my left hand or have a family of my own but honestly, I’m sure that even without those things I so desperately long for on any given day, I’ll be just fine. As long as my life is spent being His eyes, His hands, His feet, His voice, and His heart, I know I’m not living for the moment. I want to live for eternity.

- Hearts:Lady