Jesus Freak

  

   I was in high school in the 90's.  One of my favorite memories from that time in my life was Christian skate night at our local roller rink.  Our youth group used to go often.  It was good clean fun.  It was also a time of getting great exercise while listening to the latest in Christian music.  My tastes in Christian music veered toward Rich Mullins (who is now with the Lord) or Steven Curtis Chapman, among others of similar genres.  Most of my peers didn't share my taste (but my taste was shared by people in their 20's and 30's).  Most of my peers liked DC Talk, especially after their "Jesus Freak" album came out.  They really weren't my style, but nevertheless, I heard them at Christian skate night.  I can still hear it now..."What will people think when they find out I'm a Jesus Freak, what will they do, when they find out it's true..."  Since, as I said, this really wasn't my style of music, it rattled around annoyingly in my head.

     I have had a long and very complicated relationship with this song, and I want to explain it.  

     When I was in junior high and high school, God led me to take stands for Him that brought some authority figures against me.  I faced some humiliation.  Rejection.  Things Jesus warned us about.  Looking back, I should have rejoiced, because Jesus told us to (Matthew 5:11-12).  But, I was a teenager--a time in life when acceptance means everything.  I would do it again.  We can never do enough for Jesus, because He died for us.  But it was still painful.  I was just discovering where I fit in the world, and many in my little world rejected me.  I saw this as a reflection of myself.  I went through the rest of my teen years with a major chip on my shoulder (unfortunately carrying it into my 20's and even 30's.  Sometimes I still struggle with it).  The experience drove a wedge between other people and myself.  Other Christians and myself.  

     Then this song became popular.  Jesus Freak.  The chorus' lyrics say: "What will people think when they find out I'm a Jesus Freak?  What will they do, when they find out it's true?  I really don't care if they label me a Jesus Freak.  There ain't no disguising the truth."  I can now say that the message is good (even if the grammar isn't!).  We should stand and not care what anybody says or does.  Stand for the Lord at all costs.  I think that's what the song is really trying to say.  However, the me of 20+ years ago saw it differently. The next paragraph will be a reflection of how I viewed it at the time (not now).

     First, if someone had to question what people would think when they found out this person was a believer, they'd already failed in their testimony.  Why didn't people already know?  Second, was the worst thing this hypothetical person was afraid of simply being labeled a Jesus Freak?  That's pretty tame persecution.  It's very tame compared to things believers in the Middle East or China go through, and it's even tame compared to what I went through in my life.  It cheapened real persecution, reducing it to simple name-calling.  I felt my peers who liked this song were shallow.

     I can see now that my attitude was rigid.  God meets all of us where we're at.  He had brought me to a deep place of sharing in His sufferings at a young age.  Not everyone my age was there.  If the song Jesus Freak helped them, then I should have been happy for that.  Second, the hypothetical person in the song could be a brand new Christian, questioning what awaits him now that he's a "Jesus Freak."  He hasn't necessarily failed in his testimony.  Maybe he's just getting started.  Third, regardless of how tame or extreme persecution is, any bad treatment we receive for Jesus is rewarded in Heaven.  My looking down on the tame persecution in this song is like Middle Eastern believers looking down on Americans because our suffering is so much lighter than theirs.  I was wrong.  I was so jaded by my experience that I couldn't see other people were trying to take the same stand I had taken.  They just did it with poor grammar (that's a joke😉).  

     God is continuing to help me not get my validation from others, but from Him.  That's what it was all about.  I wasn't a mean, judgmental person.  I was a very kind person, but a very hurting person.  It's okay for me to not be real keen on a song others like.  It's okay for them to be keen on a song I don't like.  It isn't a reflection of any of us.  

     I still love listening to Steven Curtis Chapman and Rich Mullins music (as well as other favorites).  I want to close this post with some lyrics to one of my favorite Steven Curtis Chapman songs that captures this message:

I'm dying to live,

Live for Jesus

Dying to give myself to Him,

And the life He gives will be mine

If I am dying to live

Live for Jesus

I want to give myself to Him

Going to give up--from now on I'm dying to live

Greatest Fruit in the Worst of Times

Heather and Janelle--a ministry friendship forged in crazy times!

     I love to think about the happy times I have had.  God has blessed me with wonderful life experiences which are now precious memories.  So many wonderful people have contributed to make my life wonderful.  Of course, like most people, there are times I don't care to relive.  Bad memories.  Pain.  Those are part of life too.  Recently, I was thinking about some of the greatest triumphs God did in and around me, and, oddly, I realized that most of them were born out of those worst memories.
     In the summer of 2002, I was walking with a spiritual limp.  I had just experienced some deep hurt and humiliation.  I had learned the hard way that ministry organizations often really care more about numbers than about integrity.  My spirit had been wounded deeply by some fellow missionaries.  The organization just glossed over it all.  To be honest, the experience nearly destroyed me.  My soul hurt so much I was in physical pain much of the time.  I woke up every morning with an ache in my chest.  Any time I was alone, I was crying.  I daily asked God to take me home to Heaven before the day was over.  Suicidal thoughts consumed me.  One day in particular, I was pumping gasoline into my car, and I was struck with the temptation to drink gas myself and end it all.  I was horrified that it had really come to that.  Not even sure what I still had to live for, I got back in the car fast and drove off (I had paid at the pump with a card already).  I literally had to have Christian music playing 24/7 in order for the pain to be even remotely tolerable.  I could understand why David's playing soothed King Saul.  Godly music does that.  Prayer was my lifeline to sanity.  It was a time where it was just God and me.  I felt I had no one to turn to.  No one wanted to hear about what I was going through.  The one or two people I tried to talk to told me to "snap out of it".  I was in a very dark place.  It felt like nothing good could ever come from that.
     And in the middle of all of this, I still kept getting up and doing ministry every day.  I trusted no one.  But I still kept doing what I had been doing,  One thing I did was go to a small Baptist Church in Riverside, California and do a ministry presentation.  My heart wasn't really in it, but it was a duty I needed to do.  This particular presentation was to promote our high school summer missionary program.  So, that Sunday, I went to the little church and spoke about this ministry.  I honestly can't remember a word I said.  I passed around a clipboard and asked the teens who were interested in being summer missionaries to write their names and phone numbers.  At the end of the service, I retrieved my clipboard from the back of the sanctuary.  Three names had been written.  One was the name Heather Dowding.
     Heather was a sixteen-year-old girl in the congregation.  She had been a part of that particular church family for years.  I ended up speaking with her, and was struck by her friendliness and enthusiasm.  I asked Heather her testimony.
     "Well," She began, "My mom and I were out driving at night, and we were in a bad area.  The car stalled, and we were really scared.  We prayed to God and asked Him to help us, and as soon as we did, the car started.  We wanted to start following God, so we came to this church the next Sunday, and we've come ever since.  We learned about the Lord, and we got baptized here,"
     It sounded good to me.  Heather ended up becoming one of our summer missionary evangelists.  I had to admit that getting into summer ministry was helping keep me busy and helping me feel a little bit less alone.
     The summer missionary program was very evangelistic.  Teens learned to share their faith.  I had attended as a high schooler, and was now a leader.  I saw Heather and the others enjoy themselves, but I also saw a lot of intense spiritual battles.  I didn't know why.  I also started experiencing some backlash from my earlier struggles and betrayal in ministry.  Some very vicious rumors started circulating about me on email, and I had to change my email address (I'm just thankful this was before Facebook existed!).  I was plunged deeper than ever into darkness.  Those who had hurt me the most were being honored by the ministry, and that was hard.  Why was all this happening?
     Toward the end of training, Heather had a profound experience.  She was teaching a group of children.  As she explained the gospel, she burst into tears, describing what Jesus had done for us by dying on the cross.  She gave the most heartfelt gospel message you can imagine, and several children prayed to receive Christ.  It was wonderful.
     Heather spent the rest of the summer helping me do Bible clubs all over Riverside County.  At the end of it, she confided, "You know, I always thought I was a Christian, but I realized that I didn't really understand the gospel until this summer.  That day when I was crying at the Bible club, it was because I was realizing for the first time what Jesus had really done for me, and I received Christ with the kids that day."
     Wow!  Heather had fallen through the cracks.  Her Bible-teaching church had thought she understood the gospel.  I had thought she understood.  But that summer, the Spirit brought that truth to her!  God was really at work.  No wonder Satan was attacking so fiercely.
     Two summers later, in 2004, I was doing much better (in that I was no longer suicidal), but I still had yet to experience true healing.  A few more residual things from that earlier hurtful experience occurred in '04, as well as new battles.  It was a hard summer in several ways.
     Heather was on her third year as a summer missionary.  One night that summer (which was actually on the hardest day of that summer for me), Heather and I had a chat.  Now eighteen, she said she was discouraged, because she didn't know what God had in store for her.  I listened.  I can't recall I said anything profound, but I asked her where she wanted to see her life a year in the future.  She told me she wanted to see herself on the mission field.  I told her to go for it.  I don't recall what else specifically I said.  Anyway, as a result of that conversation, Heather ended up going full time into the ministry!  She attended ministry institute.  She ended up serving for a few years with our ministry on the East Coast, and is now married, serving full time with her husband in the Philippines.
     Also in 2004, I was discipling a friend, a new Christian about my age.  This young woman had some baggage.  I don't really know how I knew what to say or do, or even if I did or said the right things.  I know I failed at times.  Mostly, I had a wonderful time with this friend.  We spent most of 2004 (January through December) studying our Bibles together, reading Christian books, doing ministry together, and having fun (like going camping, bowling, to the movies, or out for ice cream, etc.)  The year ended, though, with her making some decisions that ended our time of discipleship and even friendship.  Some of it was because my reaction wasn't the best.  It was hard, and I felt like I had blown it and failed this friend.  I also wondered if I had wasted my time.
     Years later, this girl, her husband (she was now married), and her two children began attending my church in California.  They began coming weekly, getting involved.  In a short time, we were able to pick back up where we had left off.  This friend told me, "When we used to hang out in 2004, that was the best year of my whole life."  Wow, God had used a year when I was struggling myself, and even made mistakes in my discipleship, to plant seeds in this friend that would later bring her whole family to our church and into service there.       So much fruit came out of the hardest times of my life.  The times when I could barely carry on.  The times when I felt like my heart was breaking inside of me, and it took everything I had inside to keep going.  God is the One who did this, not me.  I take no credit.  I just stand amazed that our God can redeem anything!
     First Thessalonians 5:24 says, "Faithful is Him that calleth you, who also will do it."  I definitely experienced that.  I certainly wasn't at my best in the early 2000's when these experiences happened.  But God was faithful, and He did it!  He produced great fruit.
     One of the passages that kept me going back when things were really dark, especially in 2002, was Second Corinthians 4:8-9, in the Living Bible.  "We are pressed on every side by troubles, but not crushed and broken.  We are perplexed because we don't know why things happen as they do, but we don't give up and quit.  We are hunted down, but God never abandons us.  We get knocked down, but we get up and keep going."
     Now, in retrospect, I am encouraged when I think about different times of ministry in my life, including these hard times.  God was always producing fruit.  Second Corinthians 6:3-10 (also in the Living Bible) really speaks about the different conditions of our lives and hearts at different points in ministry.  I will close with this challenging passage:
      "We try to live in such a way that no one will ever be offended or kept back from finding the Lord by the way we act, so that no one can find fault with us and blame it on the Lord.  In fact, in everything we do we try to show that we are true ministers of God.  We patiently endure suffering and hardship and trouble of every kind.  We have been beaten, put in jail, faced angry mobs, worked to exhaustion, stayed awake through sleepless nights of watching, and gone without food.  We have proved ourselves to be what we claim by our wholesome lives and by our understanding of the Gospel and by our patience.  We have been kind and truly loving and filled with the Holy Spirit.  We have been truthful, with God's power helping us in all we do.  All of the godly man's arsenal--weapons of defense, and weapons of attack--have been ours.  We stand true to the Lord whether others honor us or despise us, whether they criticize us or commend us.  We are honest, but they call us liars.  The world ignores us, but we are known to God; we lie close to death, but here we are, still very much alive.  We have been injured but kept from death.  Our hearts ache, but at the same time we have the joy of the Lord.  We are poor, but we give rich spiritual gifts to others.  We own nothing, and yet we enjoy everything."

Thou Shalt Not Judge!

 

Amy Grant

    In the last 24 hours, I have been accused of being "judgmental" more than the entire rest of my life combined.  And why?  Here is why.  Two days ago, I found a song online that I had loved and sung in church as a young teen in the early 90s.  The songs was "Thy Word."  In our church's bulletins, it was accredited to Michael W. Smith, but it was sung by Amy Grant on one of her albums.  Our pastor used to tell us the real author was David (the biblical king) because the chorus of the song "Thy word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path..." was directly taken from Psalm 119:105.  As is the case with many church songs, they kind of lose momentum, and new songs take their place.  This is normal, to be expected.  I, personally, love Christian music from all eras--old hymns to the present, and want it all to be preserved and used.  I was so touched at finding this old song that I shared it on Facebook.  I hoped my friends would listen to it and feel the uplifting message in their hearts.  Well, was I in for a shock.
     I found myself in a battle I never expected.  Some objected to my posting a song sung by Amy Grant.  Amy Grant has made some decisions that many disagreed with.  I have my own feelings and opinions as well, but for me to draw a real, concrete conclusion, I would need a lot more information than I was ever given.  It just isn't that important to me.  Besides that, it was a very long time ago.  I honestly have no idea what Amy Grant is doing now.  I haven't kept up with her work in years (I'm just not good at keeping up with ANY artist...I was as a teenager, but I don't have time now).  Amy Grant, personally or professionally, was the last thing on my mind as I shared the beautiful song.  My thoughts were on memories of singing it with my own church family over twenty years ago.  I thought of Christian friends I hadn't seen in a long time, and how we worshiped the Lord with this beautiful song.  

     Amy Grant was not real high on my priority as I shared.  But it was as if I'd shot a bullet through a beehive.  The bees came stinging.  I was shocked, and tried to explain that I wasn't referring to Amy Grant, but the song.  Then, other people, who are on the complete opposite end of the conviction spectrum about Amy Grant, came after me for "judging" her past.  Good grief!  Did I judge her?  I shared a post of her singing "Thy Word".  How was that judging her?  True, I did try to placate those who objected to my using her song, but I wasn't making harsh statements about her.  It was like watching an accident in slow motion as people from both sides of this attacked each other and me.  I kept trying to direct people back to the beautiful lyrics, but that seemed to anger them more.  It was a hurtful mess.  I am genuinely grieved.  I shared a gorgeous praise song to bring people joy in the Lord, but started a war instead, likely bringing out all of our "less than Christlike" side.  One friend got very angry at something someone else said (I didn't even make the offending comment) and decided our friendship was over.  Good grief!  How did this get so out of control!  I feel sick to my stomach about this.

     I would like to isolate something for a minute.  I was accused of "judging" Amy Grant.  I absolutely deny that.  I made no comments about her at all.  I sympathized initially with someone objecting to her choices, but even in that, I didn't make a declarative statement against Amy Grant.  If you want to know my opinion about Amy Grant's music, or the impact of her decisions on Christian culture, you can talk to me personally, and we can have a casual discussion about it.  But that wasn't my goal at all.  I never "judged" her.

     This brings me to another point I have wanted to blog about for a long time.  It is as if "judging" is the new unforgivable sin to Americans.  My pastor in California used to say that John 3:16 was no longer the most commonly used verse.  Now, he said, it was Matthew 7:1 "Judge not, lest you be judged."  And he's right.  Even unbelievers are so quick to accuse people of judging, and admonish people not to do it. 

     It is true that Jesus said the words in Matthew 7:1.  We are not to have a critical spirit.  I will give an example of judging.  Let's say I'm walking late at night, and I happen to walk past the pastor's house.  I see a strange new car parked in his driveway, and I recognize it as belonging to a single woman in town.  I have no information about why her car is in his driveway, but let's say I assume, "Hmm, I bet they're having an affair!"  That is judging.  That is drawing a conclusion without having all the facts.  Are there other reasons her car could be in his driveway?  Absolutely.  Maybe the pastor and his wife are giving this woman counsel.  Maybe the pastor is fixing her car for her (I've left my car at other people's homes for this reason before).  So, to assume they are having an affair is judging.  I also think it is judging to make negative assumptions about people's motives.  I once read about a woman who judged a teenage boy as a punk because he never took his had off.  She later found out he had been mugged and had several chucks of his hair ripped out of his head, and had nearly died.  He wore the hat to conceal the damage.  This woman judged the young man without knowing his motive.  We can guess at people's motives, but we can't know without asking.  We should always be willing to get to know and understand people.

     However, it is as if the Christian community in America today is terrified to use any common sense at all to form an opinion, because it might be seen as "judging".  This carries over into calling out sin for what it is.  I have stated that the Bible defines homosexuality as sin, and I have all kinds of people telling me I'm judging.  No sorry, I'm not.  Judging in that case would be, "Hmm...why are they gay?  I'll bet they're doing it for attention, or maybe their dad molested them..." that's judging, because it is assuming something about the person's motives without knowing the facts.  But stating that it is a sin, per God's word, is NOT judging.  We should never compromise the truth for fear of being called judgmental.  That's what a lot of people feel we should do.  Some even call it "judging" if I won't go along with their politics.  Disagreeing isn't judging.  It is having an intelligent mind that has thought through all conclusions and formed the belief system.  That should be respected, not criticized.  As a Christian, I form all of my beliefs on God's word.  It is as if we have been programmed by our godless society to accuse each other of judging, instead of really thinking things through. 

     Several years ago, I served as a juror on a trial in Riverside County, CA.  We found the defendant guilty.  It was like living through an episode of Matlock as we listened to witnesses and deliberated.  One thing the district attorney told us has stuck with me, even a decade later.  He said, "You must find on the evidence, but that doesn't mean you check your common sense in at the door."  So true.  That's my guide for forming conclusions.  Find on the evidence given, but don't check my common sense in at the door.  God gave us discernment for a reason.

     In many cases, I have sadly seen the whole "not judging" thing as a control method.  In Christian circles, this can look like using the analogy Jesus gave about the speck in your brothers eye and the plank in your own.  This is a good, true passage, but it is very much misused sometimes to keep people from being able to question things that aren't right.  No one questions anything, so there is no accountability.  This isn't right.  God wants us to live Godly lives and be accountable to other believers.

     A very personal story about judging happened to me the summer I was eighteen.  I went on a 

mission trip.  There was another summer missionary.  He was from another state from me, and he made me very uncomfortable.  His bizarre behavior was seen as "all in fun" by everyone else, but I felt very worried for my safety.  He would follow me everywhere.  He would sit as close to me as he could without actually sitting on me.  He would touch me awkwardly.  He would talk to me in weird voices and say bizarre things to me.  I tried to get help, but everyone accused me of gossiping about him and judging him.  Because no one took me seriously, this man had a green light to do whatever he wanted, and he ended up majorly overstepping bounds and being the biggest stumbling block to me that I could ever have imagined.  I struggled for years with what happened.  When I ever tried to share about this with others, I was still told I was judging him.  Folks, this whole "don't judge" thing has gotten way out of hand.  Use your common sense!  God gave it to you!  It is okay.

     And, for future reference, 90% of the time, if I like and share a song, it is because of the song itself, not the artist.

Humble

    The summer of 1997 was a turning point in my life.  That was the first year I was a summer missionary with Christian Youth in Action.  It literally altered the course of my life forever.  My heart and confidence were built up.  I began to see the ways God could use me.  A whole new world was opened up to me!

     Christian Youth in Action (CYIA) was held at California Baptist College (now California Baptist University), in my home area of Riverside County, California.  I literally remember every single detail of every single moment from that summer.  In my mind's eye, I can see everyone exactly as they were.  The boys with their 90's "curtained" haircuts.  The girls in their bell bottoms (late 90's was mostly 70's styles revisited).  Everyone in their Christian T-shirts (many with Veggie Tales).  But, of course, when we were out teaching 5-day clubs, we all wore our Sunday best.  

     I can hear their voices, laughing, talking, lifted up in praise to the Lord, practicing evangelism on each other.  I can smell the scents of summer all around me. During CYIA, we had three earthquakes, and I can still feel them (even though I have experienced many earthquakes since that summer of 1997).  

     If I were a prisoner of war, I could replay that summer again and again in my mind.  Relive it minute by minute.     

     Everyone that summer was so wonderful.  The youth my age were true friends, and the adults were mentors.  It was a "prelude to Heaven" experience.  

     One group of students who served that year came from a church in Santa Barbara, California.  There was something very special about them, and for years I could never put my finger on it.  Most of them had never served with CYIA before, so they were first-timers, as I was.  They had come together in a church bus.  I felt oddly drawn to this group.  One friend I made who was from the Santa Barbara group was a girl my age I'll call Amy.  

     I was at a point in my life where I needed encouragement (the why behind that is another story).  Everyone at CYIA was used of God to meet that need in my heart, but especially Amy.  Amy was soft-spoken and reserved.  She talked in a gentle voice, and always had a kind word for everyone.  Her smile could light up any room she was in, though when I pointed this out, she was surprised, saying she considered herself to be plain.   

     There is a biblical parallel to that summer.  In First Kings chapter 19, Elijah was at the end of his spiritual rope.  Queen Jezebel wanted to kill him.  He was fleeing for his life, and at the height of his discouragement, he wanted to die.  God sent an angel to give him food, and it says that Elijah traveled on the strength of that food for forty days.  That's how the summer of 1997 was for me.  I moved forward on the strength of it.  I came defeated, and left in victory.  Everything I did after that had a deep sense of joy.  Sometimes I still think that summer influences me.  I kept in touch with my encouraging new friends.  I still have a scrapbook with all their letters.  Amy and I wrote back and forth for years.  She never returned to CYIA (I returned in 1998 and 1999).  Amy got more involved with mission trips her church youth group did, but we still wrote back and forth.  

     When I think about that summer, I ask myself what made everyone there stand out?  The answer is that they were given completely to the Lord.  What made the Santa Barbara group especially unique?  What made them appeal to me?  What made Amy in particular seem like a good friend?  What was it?  

     The answer is one simple word.  Humble.  These people were all humble.  Humility, even among Christians, is a rare find.  When I meet truly humble people, I desire their friendship.  Maybe, on an even deeper level, humble people reflect Jesus to me.  Philippians 2:8 says that Jesus "humbled himself" and became obedient to death.  

     Humility isn't putting oneself down.  Sometimes, I think a really negative self-concept is inverted arrogance.  Humility also isn't a personality trait.  It is something God has to create in us as we become more like Jesus.  That's what I want.  I hope I am as refreshing to someone who needs encouragement as Amy was to me in 1997.  I am a work in progress, but God is working it out in me, and in you!

The King is Naked!

    You're probably familiar with the story of the Emperor's New Clothes.  The emperor is given clothes that can supposedly only be seen by the wise.  In actuality, there are no clothes, but nobody wants to be considered a fool, so they all praise the king's nonexistent garments.  It is only a very wise child who is not afraid of repercussions who eventually says, "The king is naked!"

     Sometimes, I feel it is easy to be like the peer-pressured adults in this story.  Maybe you do too.  Go along with the consensus.  Don't make waves.  Most of us don't like controversy.  I know I hate going against the grain.  But, sometimes God calls us to that.

     When I was 22, I was in a college/career Bible study.  There were group leaders, but mainly, the older students (like myself), facilitated the discussions in small groups.  We would read the passage together and answer questions.  I really enjoyed being a table leader.  I liked everyone from the group.  At first.

     That fall, a new batch of high school graduates came to our class.  One was an 18-year-old boy I'll call James.  James was antagonistic to everyone, and made challenging statements on every subject we covered in the Bible study.  I don't mean he was truly seeking out the claims of scripture and asking honest questions.  I mean he was mean and rude for the sake of being mean and rude.

     One day, we were studying the Promises of God.  James piped up by saying that God sometimes lies to us to test us.  There were new believers in the group, and could see confusion on their faces.  As the leader, I felt responsible for what was said in this study.  I wanted everyone  to leave knowing God better than before, not being confused.  So I looked at James and said, "Chapter and verse, please?"

     He stammered. "Well, it's not something that's in the Bible."

     "Then," I replied, "it's not something that's true."

     He continued to insist that God was capable of lying.

     I brought up Numbers 23:19, "God is not a man that He should lie, neither the son of man, that He should repent..."

     James looked disgusted.  "I hate it when Christians use the Bible against me!"

     "If you didn't make heretical statements, you wouldn't need to worry about it," I told him.

     "Ding, ding, ding!  End of round one!" One of the humorous girls in our group chimed in, bringing a little laughter to the group.

     I left that day really hoping that the truth about God's character had gone out, and that no one had left with the wrong ideas about God.

     Imagine my surprise the next week when several of the more mature believers in the group were mad at me!  And why?  Because I hadn't said enough to refute James?  No.  It was because they felt I had been argumentative!

     Wait a minute here.  James came in swinging.  He was angry and unkind to everyone.  And most importantly, James had said untrue statements about God.  Yet they chose to be mad at me for refuting what he said!  In their mind, the right thing to do was cower, and the problem would magically go away.  They used the verse with me about being peacemakers.  I guess to them, peace meant ignoring what is wrong, rather than resolving it.

      I tried talking with the couple who was ultimately in charge of us (in their late 20's or early 30's), and they really didn't want to touch it.  They just said, "Well, he's a weak Christian, and you probably handled it the right way..."  but they wouldn't back me up or help me.

     After we finished that study and moved to the next, the groups were mixed, and James became someone else's problem (actually, he ended up in the same group as my brother, and started an argument with him about whether Mary and Joseph ever spanked Jesus).

     I went away from that experience very confused.  Yet this is not the only time I have seen this.  Many believers are terrified of conflict.  They're afraid to say, "The king is naked."  They are terrified of rocking the boat.  And they look down on those who do feel called upon to speak out.  I don't know why, but they often vilify the one who declares the truth, and turn the one who was wrong into the victim.  The one who is trying to address it is said to be judging.

     Judging is, in my opinion, the most misused idea in American culture, especially in Christianity.  I don't know how many times I have been accused of "judging" simply because I disagreed with someone or had a different opinion.  This is not judging.  Let me tell you what I believe judging really is (the kind that Jesus warned us not to do).  Let's say I'm out for a walk late at night.  I walk by a pastor's house.  In his driveway is the car of a single woman in town.  I ask myself, "why would she be at his house at this hour?  I bet his wife isn't home.  I'll bet they have an affair going..." and go on from there.  That is judging, because I don't have the facts at all and am making really bad assumptions.  This is what judging is.  But to see something I disagree with and say that I disagree...that isn't judging at all.  I'm not making a statement about the person's motives.  I have no idea what their motives are.  I just know I disagree with what has been said.  Like with James.  I never guessed at his motives or tried to ascribe values to him one way or the other.  I simply had problems with his statements.

     I don't like arguing with people.  It terrifies me too.  But when truth is at stake, or when something wrong has been done, I have to do it.  I pray.  I try to do it in a right way.  Sometimes I let fear hold me back, or sometimes I am too quick to speak without letting God temper my response.  It is a hard balance to achieve.  I'm still working on it.

     In Acts 1:8, Jesus said the Holy Spirit would give us power to be His witnesses.  This is the power to preach the gospel.  It is also the power to discern what is right or wrong, and when to speak out.  I want to encourage my brave friends who speak out about truth to keep doing it, tempered with the Holy Spirit's love.  And to my reserved friends, I want to encourage you to support those who speak out, instead of looking down on them.  They are not causing the conflict; they are trying to resolve it.  They are not getting any enjoyment or pleasure by confronting a situation.  They're responding to something God has given them to do.  Sometimes, all it takes is someone to stand up and say "The King is Naked".

True Love

     I am madly in love with my wonderful husband Walter.  It was so clear, right from the start, that God was bringing us together.  I love that God brought me a husband who loves Him first and foremost.  I love that Walter knows and honors God's word.  There is so much else I love about him, and I could write a book about all of it.  However, all of this begs the question, when did I know that it was true love?
     I knew I liked Walter and had a connection at our first meeting, and even then, really felt like it was God.  But something that really clinched it for me happened on our first date.  Something that, in and of itself, might seem funny.  In fact, it kind of is funny!
     To properly explain, I have to back up.  Several years earlier, I had encountered someone while doing ministry.  I will refer to this gentleman as Pastor Max.
     Pastor Max taught very deep biblical lessons.  Over the three or four summers he was our ministry's camp devotional leader, I heard him teach on the 23rd Psalm, the book of Joshua, and Paul's epistle of the Philippians.  It was all very in-depth, and left everyone with a greater understanding of God's word.  However, while the actual teaching itself was very biblical, the way he would apply it was unrealistic and angry.
     One time, he told the youth it was wrong to be angry at others, and if they were angry, it showed they were really the ones in sin.  Of course, this teaching goes against Ephesians 4;26, "Be angry and sin not; let not the sun go down upon your wrath."  The Bible teaches (in several places) the right way to express and handle anger.  It never condemns simply being angry.  Sometimes there's a good reason to be angry!
     As Pastor Max continued to teach, everyone hung on his every word, almost elevating him to a position of lordship (little L!).  As I said, his interpretation of the Bible was correct, but the way he applied was a little off.  Most of his themes were along the same lines as what I expressed above.  The application was basically, "It's all your fault.  You don't have a right to own your feelings.  You sinned somewhere.  If you do what's right, everyone else will too.  To see the problem is to be the problem."
     I could only take this so long.  I felt he was giving the kids a wrong message, yet they were too duped to see it.  Legalism can appear attractive.  My second summer under his ministry, I felt I should say something.  I didn't wish to be challenging or rude.  I didn't know when or how to approach him.  Perhaps I just misunderstood him.  But I wanted to understand where he was coming from.  One day, his message was about forgiving.  Sounds good, except his application to the teens was, "If you're offended with someone, it's really your fault that person did anything to you in the first place.  You caused it!  Nothing is ever one person's fault.  Ever!"  Then he gave a time for questions and answers.  So, as politely as I could, I raised my hand from my place in the back of the room (where the staff all sat).  He called on me.
     "Sir," I said, "What you're sharing really intrigues me, and I want to be sure I understand it correctly.  So are you saying that it's never the other person's fault completely?  That in no circumstance is it ever one person's responsibility?"
     His face took on a look of complete rage.  "You know what?" he spat out vehemently.  "Yes it can be one person's fault!  It's all your fault!  If there's a problem, you caused it!  To call something else out means deep down, you really did it!"
     It took a second for it to sink it that he was attacking me.  But this couldn't be right, could it?  What about cases where someone abused a child?  By his logic, it was the child's fault, and I knew this was wrong.  I felt so embarrassed.  But I had to clarify.  I was committed now.  "So if a person broke into my house, robbed me, and harmed my property, and then I called the police and he got arrested, I'm really at fault that he broke in in the first place?"
     "I'm not talking about that!" he lashed out.  "I'm talking about how it's a sin to confront people!  If you confront someone, it really means it was your fault to start out with!"
     I could have said a lot.  First, if his logic was true, then it would carry over and be true in the context of someone breaking into my home and me calling the police.  After all, isn't calling the police on a burglar a sort of confrontation?  Secondly, though, saying that confrontation is a sin is incorrect.  Matthew chapter 18 gives a perfect guideline for confronting.  Jesus wouldn't have given that guideline if confrontation was a sin.  I have found that those who are ultra-against confronting and act all spiritual about it are really people who like control and don't want to be questioned or brought to account.  But anyway, I didn't say another word.  My feelings were hurt, and I was humiliated.  I got no sympathy from anyone, because they all ate out of Pastor Max's hand.
     After that was calmed down, a teenage boy raised his hand.  "Yes?" Pastor Max called on him.
     "Well, sir, you're a pastor.  I am interested in that.  How do you recognize if God is calling you into the ministry?"
     I felt this was a good question.  This boy was probably seriously thinking about the direction of his life, and God's call to him.  This was Pastor Max's big chance to impact him positively.
     Pastor Max looked at the boy with disdain.  "You look around!"  He shot back.  What was that supposed to mean?  It came off as insulting to the boy.  I felt bad for him.
     Yet after all this, everyone still practically worshiped him unconditionally.  No one was critically analyzing what he was actually saying.
     In a staff meeting, I shared that I felt uncomfortable with Pastor Max.  Everyone jumped on me and told me to stop "judging" (probably the most misused accusation in American Christianity).  So, I had just been told everything was all my fault, and yet I was judgmental?
     I worried about this.  Was I really wrong?  Was there a reason I was the only one who saw Pastor Max this way?  Did I have a critical spirit?  I didn't want to.  I prayed and really asked God to help me, but I couldn't make myself agree with Pastor Max's application to scriptures.  It was inconsistent with the God I knew, and the Bible I daily read and memorized.
     What I had no idea of was that, twenty miles away, in Pastor Max's church, was my future husband Walter.  Man, if I had known it, I would have high-tailed it over there!  Not only that, but Walter was facing the same rude-but-spiritual-sounding treatment I had faced.  So was his family.  So was the mutual friend who would introduce Walter and me.
     I moved on in my life.  Pastor Max wasn't a very important person in my further experiences.  
     So, as Walter and I sat down at the Queen Bean coffee shop during our first date, we got to chatting (we had chatted at our first meeting some days earlier, and over the phone since, but we were still getting acquainted).  Through this conversation, I discovered he had attended Pastor Max's church back during the time when I had known him.  I wondered if Walter worshiped at his feet the way everyone else seemed to.  Would I feel like I was the judgmental one all over again?
     "So," I ventured, "What did you think of Pastor Max?"
     Without hesitation, this spiritual man who loved the Lord with all this heart replied, "Oh, he's a jackass!"
     Shocked but validated, I burst out laughing.  This was a defining moment for me.  It told me Walter had discernment and didn't play games of pretend.  I knew I could trust this man to see things clearly, and take my concerns seriously.  And for these deeper reasons, I truly went from being "in like" to "in love".
     Please understand that I am not putting Pastor Max down.  I honestly have no idea what was going on in his heart or mind when all this was happening. He is still preaching last I heard, and I wish him God's very best.  I am simply disagreeing with some of his statements, and expressing  my own past feelings of anxiety from when I felt I was the only one who saw it, and wondered if I was crazy.  Over the years, many Christian groups I have been a part of called people "judgmental" when they brought up stuff no one else wanted to deal with.  It's easier to accuse than to really examine honestly.  So having Walter validate my experiences like that meant a lot.  I am thankful to have a husband who sees the truth.

Taken By Storm

     I walked into my grandmother's house.  The heavenly smell of pulled pork met me.  My stomach growled!  

     "Grandma, is that wonderful smell our dinner?" I asked.  I had driven over to spend time with my grandmother that Saturday evening in 2012.  

     "It is, but not just ours." she told me.  "I don't know if I told you, but my church started a program where we feed the homeless and try to help them find jobs and get back on their feet.  It's my turn to bring the dinner to the church for them.  It'll be a great time. . We play games with them and just really help them have a good time."
     This sounded great to me.  So, we went down to my grandma's church.

     The people we met seemed very sweet, genuinely grateful to have the church's help.  Several told me about their attempts at finding jobs.  I could see the hope and joy in their eyes, and I knew the church had played a part in giving them that.  

     All was going well when the door opened again and in strode someone else.

     "Sorry I'm late!" a boisterous voice called out a moment before a tall young man came into the room.

     No one paid him too much attention.  They clearly knew him and were used to him.  I was about to discover what that meant!
     "Hi!" he jogged up to where I was talking with some other people.  "Wanna hear the ocean in this seashell?" he asked.

     Before I could reply, he put said seashell by my ear.  Of course, he was never quiet enough to let me hear the ocean.

     "Isn't that amazing?  I couldn't help but ride my bike down to the beach today!  I spent all day collecting shells."
     "Even though you were supposed to be looking for work?" One of the women asked, slightly annoyed.

     "Oh, I'll do it Monday," He waved her off.  "But these shells!  Can you believe how lucky I was to find them?  When I save up thousands of dollars, I'll mail them back to my mom in Michigan so she can enjoy them!"

     I was confused now.  "Thousands of dollars?  It doesn't cost much to send a package.  You could mail the shells to her for less than ten dollars."

     "But I don't want them to break in the mail, so I need to get bubble wrap.  So I really do need thousands of dollars!"
     Was this guy for real?

     About then, he noticed I was playing a scrabble-type game on the ipad with the people at my table.  My grandma had brought it along, as well as card games (which she was playing at another table with more people).  This odd guy grabbed the ipad out of my hands.  "Let's play Angry Birds!"
     No one else wanted to, but he didn't listen to them.  He turned off our game and started playing Angry Birds, laughing the whole time.  The others at the table rolled their eyes.

     "Hey, wanna see something really great?" He asked.  He got out of Angry Birds and turned to YouTube.  "These are my movies.  They're really funny!"
     He played them, laughing hysterically.  He laughed alone.  The videos were all the same.  They were movies of him running into trees and falling down backwards.  "Isn't that funny!"  He laughed.

     We all wanted to play our game again.

     "I'm trying to get famous with these movies.  I think maybe I'll be on TV one day!  I'm going to take California by storm!  Listen to my song!"

     He pulled a micro cassette player out of his pocket and pushed play.  A crudely recorded song began to play.  It was his voice, singing about beating people up!  It was a troubling and violent song.  "Isn't that great!  I'm taking California by storm!"
    "How are you doing that?" I tried to sound polite.  "Are you pursuing a record deal?"

     He looked at me as if I'd said something very stupid.  "That's too hard.  I do it the easy way.  I walk up and down the street playing the tape and people can hear it.  One of these days, an agent will hear me and beg to take me on as a client!"  

     Was he for real?  

     Fortunately, we were able to get our scrabble game up and going again.  I was happy to see how God was at work in these people's lives.  I was thankful to be a part of brightening their evening.  

     As Grandma and I left, she said it best of all.  "I think we really took the church by storm!"  The evening ended in amused laughter and prayers for our friends to get back on their feet.