wrestling with the god of collateral damage

So, I haven’t posted on here in a long time. A really long time. All these months (years?) and I still find myself wrestling with the same questions. If I had not been raised with these beliefs would I hold them? Do I still believe them? Which version of God is true? If God is a god who is giving up part of his creation as “collateral damage” do I really want anything to do with him.

I am really struggling with idea that God has created all of creation but that only a select few will be saved and go to heaven. Because that seems wasteful. Why would you make all these extra people just to have them suffer and die. Especially when the world is already full of suffering and hurting. I realize the “why do bad things happen to good people” question is forever old and I have heard dozens of different answers. My hang up comes down to this. (Going on the traditional biblical model) God created the earth. Satan fell from heaven and came to earth. Sin entered. We were separated from God. We could not keep the ways that would bring us to God so there had to be sacrifices. There was a flood. There were chosen people and not chosen people. Things started over and still didn’t work. There was another rescue plan. Jesus came. He died. He was the ultimate sacrifice. People were still horrible to each other. Things were still broken. But some people who found out about Jesus believed in him and had everlasting life. But some people didn’t hear. And died without hearing. Or some people heard but couldn’t make themselves believe. So they are all “not going to heaven” because they didn’t believe in Jesus… but what if it’s not their fault they didn’t hear. What if they wanted to believe but couldn’t. Doesn’t that make them human collateral? Why would a loving God create people who would suffer all through their lives then die and go on to more suffering. That doesn’t make sense. If the great redemption plan is Jesus but not everyone gets redeemed, how is that plan successful? I want to scream, “that’s not a good plan since from the very start it didn’t fully work and if you’re all knowing you knew it wouldn’t!” and “what are you waiting for?” I don’t get it. And his ways being higher than my ways and his thoughts being higher than my thoughts doesn’t assuage my anger and guilt when I can see the horror and unfairness of something, the hopelessness of a plan that was never going to save everyone anyway.

And who the hell am I supposed to ask this? When I’ve been a “Christian” my whole life and so I probably “shouldn’t” be thinking these things.

I’ve come across others who have struggled with this. Who seem to have made peace with God. The version of God they’ve made peace with is a God of grace, graciousness, and compassion. The people who believe in him and are on earth now are people who are supposed to be part of the reconciliation. Part of the redemption plan. These are people who are passionate about social justice. About serving the weak and poor. They are people who speak of an upside down kingdom, a third way. I feel myself drawn to them and the picture that they paint, the stories that they tell. I find myself hurtful and doubting as so often those who I am supposed to look up to as spiritual leaders put them down.

Because these people draw a lot of criticism from the old guard. The traditionalists who say that this shiny happy view of grace is too weak, that it doesn’t focus enough on our sins and wretchedness. (If I am made in the image of God, am I really wretched?) The old guard attacks, hurls accusations of “cherry picking” of scripture. Claim that ancient texts have been perverted. That this orthopraxy is nothing without the orthodoxy that they, the old guard, hold under a lock and key. I have no idea why anyone finds themselves drawn to this “sinners at the hands of an angry god” view of God, why anyone would rather cling to a god of wrath rather than a God of compassion. I find myself boiling with resentment and confusion towards this old guard. It’s because I can’t fathom wanting to have anything to do with this angry god, incapable of being appeased, except by a select few. That’s a kingdom built on fear and while somewhere deep inside the me that heard those stories whimpers, “what if it’s true, I don’t want to suffer” that’s still no longer enough to hold me, to make me believe.  If that’s how god is, hurling damnation, creating human collateral, I don’t want to have anything to do with him. (Cue lightening strike and rumbling of the earth to swallow my heretical self.)

I don’t know why it’s no longer enough for me to hold with the old ways. Because not everyone I know who believes in God believes in this super angry god. More often they are content with a loving and merciful God who is gracious to us once we have “asked Jesus into our hearts.” They want the rest of the world to hear. But once again I’m hung up with thoughts of those who don’t hear. If a child is sold into slavery and dies at the hands of their captors, never having heard “the good news”, never having prayed a sinners prayer, does that child then go on to descend into hell. Unknown and unloved in death as well as life. That is too horrible I can not embrace it. If a person devoutly follows their religion without ever hearing of Jesus but living a life that otherwise brims with the fruits of the spirit, is that not proof of God in them? Are they doomed because they haven’t heard. Rachel Held Evans refers to this as the “cosmic lottery” where those who have the good fortune to be born in a christian country have the golden ticket. Would I believe if I hadn’t been born with a golden ticket?

I don’t know if I’ve ever felt further from God. If I’ve ever been more scared. I can’t imagine a life without spirituality. Can’t imagine a world without God, but in my confusion that increasingly feels like where I’m going. Some days. Other days I cling to the hope of this third way, this upside down kingdom. On those days I feel like the Creator of grace and compassion will know and forgive my struggling heart, because he created it. I long to not want to understand every.single.thing. I want to peacefully accept that while I don’t understand the hurt and brokenness I can participate in the redemption. This is what the public me says. This is the image I project waiting for the day it is 100% true with no doubts lurking under the surface.

You might think I would just give up and walk away. Throw my hands up in disgust. But all of “this” is too much a part of who I am. I can’t just walk away. So I wrestle.

blog? what blog?

It has been a super long time since I posted on this blog.

What can I say? Life happens.

It is August. August is a historically hard month for me. I have always had a personality that tends toward anxiety but August 1998 was when my anxiety hit an all time high and became clinical depression and I entered my biggest down hill spiral ever. That prompted group therapy, counseling, and eventually medication. (Side note. I think medication for anxiety/depression is one of the greatest things ever. It does not entirely do away with these things but it “levels the playing field” so you can deal with them like a “regular” person.)

Anyway, it is August once again and that old familiar overwhelming melancholy is calling. August is the hottest month of the year and heat makes me generally unable to cope with things well anyway. It fuels the fires of discontent in my soul. And today they don’t need extra fuel. I’m feeling very incapable of dealing with the demands of parenting a strong willed toddler that is apparently worse for me then anyone else. I try to set down boundaries, I don’t give in, I am firm, I set limits… and I get hit, bit, and screamed at. It makes me feel like I am not a very good mom. So I get impatient with him. And his sister. And my mom confidence drops more.

I have been exercising all summer long. I haven’t lost weight at all. Is it because I’m old? Eating too little? Eating too much? Not eating the right thing? I don’t know. I just know that I’m discouraged. Vacation meant an excuse to deviate from my fairly strict exercise routine and I think I’m missing those endorphins. I feel fat, bloated, pathetic. Meh. If those symptoms sound familiar an invoke thoughts of another monthly woe, well you’re right, that’s here too! Worst cramps ever. Writhing in pain. Short tempered. Wanting to crawl away and hide from everything/everyone but can’t. The hubby is away at a retreat so it’s me and my heat/temper/hormonal/weariness induced mood swings vs the terrible toddler and long suffering diva child.

What am I going to do all weekend?

in good company

I’m reading an article about Mother Theresa. It’s very interesting because while the world often sees her as a saint who surely, surely, must have been so close to God, she was actually tortured with emptiness and struggled with feeling far from God… I am intrigued.

“The more I want him — the less I am wanted,” she (Mother Theresa) wrote Périer in 1955. A year later she sounded desolate: “Such deep longing for God — and … repulsed — empty — no faith — no love — no zeal. — [The saving of] Souls holds no attraction — Heaven means nothing — pray for me please that I keep smiling at Him in spite of everything.”

Read more: http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1655720,00.html#ixzz1RlGGAtgV

with great challenge comes great opportunity

I love food. Not in a “snobby foodie” way but in a “food is good” way. I like to eat when I’m happy (let’s celebrate), I like to eat when I’m sad (comfort food). I like to eat when I’m bored. I like to eat as entertainment, as a way to spend time with family and friends. I love baking. I even love grocery stores. All that being said, I HATE cooking supper. I hate coming up with the idea of what to eat. What to feed my family. Torture. I’d much rather go out to eat. Things are just so much more pleasant when they’re prepared by someone else, served by someone else, cleaned up by someone else… (happiness) But most of all it’s that whole figuring out what to prepare stumbling block that gets me every time.

My husband recently decided that he is going to lose 100 lbs. He decided it in a “there will be no room for failure” way. He’s generally successful at everything he puts his mind too and he’s decided that now is the time that losing weight is going to be his next success story. I’m incredibly proud of him since I know that for him talking about weight takes him way outside of his comfort zone. I know that he’s undertaking this challenge, not just for himself, but also for me, our children, and our future.

Mindful eating means planning, analyzing recipes, figuring out calories. But with great challenges come great opportunities. This is a great opportunity for me to try to get out of my own comfort zone. I like combing recipes for tasty (calorie laden) treats. Now I’m learning to comb recipes for healthy, filling, satisfying recipes. What I’ve discovered is that there are a lot of people out there who are doing the same thing. I’m feeling good about the challenge. I feel like not only am I making us healthier but we’ll be teaching our children to be healthy as they grown and develop their own eating habits. It’s so much easier to maintain a good habit (say drinking water) then it is to undo a bad habit (soft drinks at every meal). We’re getting over some of our food prejudices (turkey burger- me, vegetables- him). I’ve found great resources online, there are so many websites with delicious, filling, healthy recipes.

When he started this endeavor I believe he was probably thinking of it as “his journey”, but I’m thinking of it as “our journey”. I’m excited about where it is going to take us. If you’d like to follow his journey you can do it at http://www.businessoflosingweight.com . I’m going to be cheering him on every step of the way and you can too.

What if…

The other day I was presented with the question, “what if, instead of considering it a matter of us ‘asking Jesus into our hearts’ it became a matter of Jesus saying ‘come and walk with me in my kingdom’?”

I love that. It shifts the paradigm. All the sudden it’s not about you or your control of the situation. It’s not a solitary act that can be done once then checked off on a “to do” list. It becomes an active way of life in a new place. “Come and walk with me in my kingdom. Come be part of my mission.” Cede your control to me. Stop relying on yourself.

It makes faith less of a self centered thing and more of a let me die to myself and my desires thing. And that is a very unusual thing in the the world of American Christianity which has become a religion of “living your best life now” and largely ceased to be about doing unto others and more about how much “God” can bless “me”. Financial security and prosperity are seen as measures of God’s favor.  All in all it bears little resemblance to the faith represented in the New Testament.

So, when that paradigm shifts and all the sudden you find yourself leaving behind your path in order to join Jesus in walking in his kingdom and choosing to serve now and reorder your priorities now that can be a very exciting thing.

That is a journey worth taking.

Awesome Donald Miller Book!

I loved this book about the stories we tell with our lives. Let’s be purposeful with our stories!

What story are you telling? from Rhetorik Creative on Vimeo.

You can even get a copy of the paperback here:
http://www.powells.com/biblio/1-9781400202980-0

“No”maste

I was recently at the NC Aquarium with my family/extended family. It was a fun day, except for one incident, which stands out to me like a scratch on a record. I’ve been dwelling on it quite a bit. While standing looking at one particular exhibit we saw a fish that can breathe through it’s skin and survive out of water for a short amount of time.  The person beside me, a person I love deeply, made the comment, “that must be one of our ancestors”.

The more I think about it the more I am bothered by this statement and I want to tear my hair and yell “If we are just walking fish there is no namaste!” I love the concept of “namaste”. Namaste is a Hindi greeting and I’ve heard multiple interpretations of what it means.

Here are a few (from Wikipedia)

“I honor the Spirit in you which is also in me.” — attributed to but not claimed by author Deepak Chopra

“I honor the place in you in which the entire Universe dwells, I honor the place in you which is of Love, of Integrity, of Wisdom and of Peace. When you are in that place in you, and I am in that place in me, we are One.”

“That which is of God in me greets that which is of God in you.”

“The Divinity within me perceives and adores the Divinity within you.”

To me it means “The God breathed life within me recognizes that there is God breathed life within you.” It means acknowledging the mystery and miracle that is life. It represents the value in human life. And if we are evolved from some fish that crawled out of the water one day and that’s it then there is no namaste.  Because fish don’t really acknowledge the value of other fish. There’s no mystery and miracle, nothing more then birth a stretch of time and then nothing. And really,  if there is nothing more then this moment, then it doesn’t matter how you treat others, how you live. Because it’s not going to matter anyway. Because it’s meaningless. So why not abuse your body for your own pleasure, be greedy, be selfish. Get what you can for the moment you are in because when the moment is gone, it’s gone, and so are you… Sounds like a horrible, shallow, depressing way to live.

However, there is something in us that does respect life, that does cause us to want to help others, to give of ourselves.  I believe that something is God’s breath in us.  I have seen that “something” show strongly in the lives of those who say they don’t believe in God and I have, sadly, seen it missing in the lives of those who say they do believe in God. (But that , I suspect, is the fodder for another blog post.) I believe, whether we acknowledge it or not, that the acknowledgment of the sacredness and mystery that we hold within us is what we were created for by who we were created by.  There is something within us that sees the value in others. That acknowledges the humanity, the relationship that exists because we call this planet home. It’s what we see when there’s a natural disaster and help pours in from around the world. It’s why we see comfort poured out when their is tragedy. It’s why we gasp and recoil when we hear about atrocities committed against other humans. Yesterday was the celebration of Martin Luther King, Jr’s birthday. All day long I saw friends posting things he had said, things that affirmed the value and dignity of every human life. Dr. King was an amazing man who saw the namaste within others and would not be silent until he had done all he could to make sure that everyone around him could see it to. He worked tirelessly to reverse hatred, repair wrongs, to open eyes and hearts. Slowly people heard his message and picked up his call… because they too could see they value in the life of others. We are still sounding his call today because there was value in it.

It is because of things like this that I have to  believe that something in us hears the echoes of God’s breath that comes through me, and through you, and through every other being and that when we hear it we are moved to say “namaste”.

It’s Going To Be A Good Year

Most of the entries in this blog are thoughts and reflections on the feelings of alienation I’ve experienced and wrestled with. It’s all been part of a journey that has had lots of twists and turns in recent years. I created this blog as a way of processing things that I’ve been mulling over. I haven’t really told anyone about the blog because I’ve been afraid if I did and people read it they might think that something was “wrong” with me. Or that I wasn’t a “good enough” Christian. Or I might, I don’t know, make God or the church look bad. But I’ve come to realize that, in the words of Popeye, “I am who I am”. (Or “I yam what I yam” or something like that). I’ve realized that I don’t need to defend God, he can take care of himself. My problems with the people who represent (or misrepresent) God are things that I should be able to talk about honestly because maybe other people can relate. So I’m not going to hide. I’m just going to put things out there. No fear. That’s a quality I really respect/envy/admire in Hank, Greyson, and even Charlie. If they see something they want they go for it seemingly without fear. I want to be like that.
I feel like this year is going to be good.  I feel like I’m in a really good place spiritually. We’re plugged in. We have found an amazing community within St. Andrew’s. Our “lifegroup” (church lingo for a group of people who get together to talk/pray/hang out) is a group of people we met at Alpha (another church thing, a course where you get together to reflect on what it means to lead a spiritual life) and we are really enjoying get getting to know everyone and excited about what our future holds. Tonight we became members at St. Andrew’s and I’m excited about it. It feels good to be excited about church people and church “things”.
Family life is good. Charlie’s healthy, Greyson’s healthy, Hank and I are healthy.I’m planning Charlie’s first birthday party. This year has flown by. We’ve had great family experiences, sad family experiences, frustrating family experiences and fun family experiences. When we have a “family hug” (what Greyson calls it when the 4 of us are all snuggled together) I feel like I’ve got all the happiness in the world in my arms. When Charlie curls up against me, fast asleep and completely at peace, I revel in it knowing that my little boy is going to grow up fast and he won’t find his peace and comfort with me forever so I have to treasure the moments now. It keeps me from resenting getting up with him in the middle of the night. Hank keeps me laughing and thinking. He keeps me challenged and loved. I know plenty of people who say “I”m married to my best friend” with their words but their lives don’t reflect it. I don’t have to say it, I’m living it.

It can be a little scary to think about how good I feel things are right now. Things aren’t perfect and we’ve got challenging things happening, but to feel so secure and joyous spiritually and as a family is liberating. Part of me thinks, don’t say anything you’ll mess it all up, but the other part of me says don’t be afraid to say I’m feeling less marginalized, less disenfranchised and more like there is a place for me at the table.

Slainte!

Who’s taunting who?

I absolutely know that money is not linked to a person’s value. I would love to tell you that money and material things are not integral to my self worth. I might be able to make a case based on my lack of desire for a flashy car/flashy house/designer duds but if you dug below surface level at all you’d find that there are times I am a miserable failure at separating my self value from my net worth. When I balance my checkbook and there’s all of $23.49 in there it makes me feel worthless. Also out of control, insecure, scared, and unprotected.
Not the words you should be offering up when you believe God is meeting all of your needs, eh? It is a mighty struggle for me. On the one hand my daily needs are met. I never go to bed hungry, I don’t put my children to bed hungry, we have clothes, shoes, a home. If we suddenly lost it all we have people who would take us in and meet those needs for us. On a more intrinsic level I have a husband who loves me, children who love me, we are all healthy, make each other laugh and smile, and enjoy each other. So, realistically do I really have anything to complain about?
But, to paraphrase Susan E. Isaacs, I have middle class white girl tragedies and I am a middle class white girl and they are my tragedies.
I think I’m feeling a little surly because in the past month or so there have been 3 different (part time) job opportunities that have come along and seemed to meet the absolute requirements I have for taking a job (the ability to accommodate my children) and then just when I’m thinking “look at this opportunity God has created for me” things don’t work out. Someone else takes the job, someone doesn’t send the work, the class my kid would need to be part of for me to do it is full. It makes me feel like God is taunting me. I look and think “wow, look at this rare opportunity” and He says “psyche!” (Because apparently he is fond of 80’s vernacular.) And then that little warped view of self worth that cringes in fear at my bank account gets a little bigger and bolder in it’s assertions to me that I am my financial bottom line and I am not adequate.
Mumford & Sons sing “you have demanded my attention and denied my affection.” Lately there have been moments when I feel like that’s what God has been doing to me. Demanding my attention, saying “where have you been, why have you stopped praying, what is going on?” but then when I try to answer and say “because I’m scared, hurt, angry, confused” he’s not interested.
As I was mentally writing this blog, something I do over and over before I get around to typing things out- if I ever get around to actually typing them out) I suddenly thought, what if I’m the one demanding the attention from God then denying him the affection that I should be giving him. I do have a lot to be thankful for and I’m never promised a complete understanding and liking of my circumstances. There are many people who probably have harder, bigger, more tragic tragedies. I don’t want to be the one who is “gold digging” God getting into a relationship with him for what I get out of it. Just as I don’t believe you can have a relationship built on fear (that’s called abuse) I don’t want to have a relationship based on getting my greedy little heart satisfied to the point of gluttony. I want mutual love and affection.
Where does that leave me in this little rant? Still a little confused, a little “miffed”, still thinking about my monetary and spiritual debt. Also, still thinking of what I have to be thankful for as we enter this season of giving thanks, and hoping that I will soon find my balance again.

Soul Food

“There is no love more sincere than the love of food.” Or so the takeout bag from Carraba’s tells me. While I might disagree that the love of food is the most sincere love there is, I’ve been starting to realize how closely food can be linked to expressions of love.

For months I’ve been trying to figure out what I could do to be a more active part of some of the nonprofit organizations we help support. I wanted to give beyond financial support. It’s been hard to figure out since my time is not very flexible since my days revolve around feeding my baby. However, recently I had a chance to get involved with Crossbridge Ministries, a group that helps families of chronically and terminally ill children. Crossbridge steps in to offer whatever type of support the family needs. One aspect of their ministry is to bring meals to the families. It is a blessing to the families because it’s one less thing for them to have to worry about but I didn’t realize what a blessing it would be to me. This was something I could easily take part in, I prepare meals every day. I LOVE baking and look for excuses to bake treats that I can share with others. I signed up to take a meal to a family, prepared the meal, and drove it over. At the home where the family was staying I met the family’s grandmother, who was staying there to care for one child while the mother spent her days at the hospital with the child that was sick. The experience of dropping off the food only took a few minutes, she seemed so thankful to receive the meal, we chatted a few minutes then I left. When I left I felt oddly tearful. I hadn’t expected to feel so moved by the experience but it really got me thinking.

In the South, but really all over the world, the giving of food is so connected to the expression of love and support. It’s part of celebrating the arrival of a new life when there is a birth and families bring the new parents meals. It’s part of the giving of comfort and support when life comes to an end and a meal is shared after the funeral. If someone’s sick you take a meal. If someone moves to your neighborhood you bring them a “treat” to welcome them. Eating is a means of celebrating, comforting, welcoming, nurturing.

We’ve been attending an Anglican church for the past few months. As part of the service, communion is taken each week. This is outside of my realm of experience but something I’ve quickly grown to appreciate. I love this sharing of a spiritual meal as a reminder of God’s love. It’s a part of my week I’ve grown to look forward to. Moments to get centered and shut everything else out and experience a bit of peace.

Over the summer we’ve been trying to reach out and work on enriching some of our friendships. Sharing meals has been a major and natural part of that.
We’ve shared meals, stories, and lots of laughter.

And it’s been delicious…