Category Archives: Life

A Little Numbers Game

I wrote this back in 2006, so some of this will be a bit dated. I share it again, because I think it’s important to remember.

10,005 – 1 does not equal -10,006.

That’s an obvious statement above, but it’s something I think we all tend to forget.

I’m not talking about numbers, but negative critiques, rejections, or harsh comments.

My pastor last Sunday did a sermon on The DaVinci Code. I wasn’t there, so I don’t know exactly what happened, but this is the gist of what I heard:

After he gave his sermon, someone approached and commented at how it wasn’t appropriate to do a sermon on a fictional book.

Whether the person meant it harshly, I don’t know. But my pastor’s reaction is important. He took the comment so hard, inbetween the 8am service and the 9:30am service he kneeled before the altar and wept.

I know he had to be thinking he made a terrible mistake by preaching on that subject. I’m sure he completely forgot any positive comments people gave him. Top that off with having to do the same sermon two more times. I doubt I could have pulled it off like he did.

Why is it so easy to wrap our entire beings around one negative comment and ignore all the other 10,005 positive comments as if they never happened?

I wish I had an answer to that, because I do it all the time. It’s a grueling mental wrestling match to convince me otherwise.

So I use this entry to encourage you to ignore the comments that hurt, and embrace the ones that uplift (as well as consider the source; not everyone has your best interests at heart). I bet the positives outnumber the negatives in almost every case.

Apathy

Either I’m not getting enough Sun, my hormones are completely whacked out, or it’s a combination of both, but I’m suffering from a severe case of apathy.

I’m not sad or depressed, but I can’t seem to find a reason to care about much of anything more than what I’m required to do for work and family. I’m either in automatic or neutral, and don’t care enough to change gears even when I know I should.

I keep thinking I should be concerned, but I’m not. Mostly. Actually, I am concerned, but not enough to do anything about it.

Part of why I’m writing it down is so that maybe, just maybe doing so will push me out of this odd mood I’m in. Sometimes seeing what I’m thinking and feeling on the screen helps me to find a solution to whatever is bugging me.

Change o’ subject (sort of):

I’m thinking of changing the name of my blog again. This time to “Dear God. I Have Questions.”

Two reasons for this.

Once again, I volunteered to write several devotions for my church’s yearly Lenten devotional. Eight, actually, which is the most I’ve volunteered to write so far. In one of them I admitted I don’t love or trust God as much as I know I should. I take much of my faith for granted, and worse, when it starts to matter, I hide it away, afraid.

Many non-religious accuse religious people, Christians especially, as following blindly, never asking challenging questions. For some, that’s probably true. I’ve heard enough stories where church leaders have punished people in a variety of ways for daring to challenge their beliefs or orthodoxy.

Yet that’s far from biblical. In both the Old and New Testaments, God and Jesus encouraged questions and seemed to enjoy being challenged (as long as the questioner was genuine in wanting to learn). For example, in the Old Testament, Jacob literally wrestled with God–and would have won if God hadn’t cheated. In the New Testament, never once did Jesus condemn anyone for asking questions. Sure, he was tough on the Pharisees, but he also knew their motives; their questions were meant to trap him, not to learn.

I want to focus my blog on studying God’s word to strengthen my relationship with him, and hopefully show others that to be a Christian actually means to ask a lot of questions, to challenge our current religious thinking, and yes question what the Bible says about certain subjects we find objectionable or problematic (while at the same time knowing that my understanding of said scripture is what’s flawed, not the scripture itself).

I also hope that by increasing my time of study, it’ll kick me out of this apathetic funk.

Not Big Enough

When Dave, my husband, and I first married, he spent some time with my parents, but not enough to know their thoughts on certain issues. Keep this in mind as I share this story:

Back in the early 90s, we attended Trinidad State Junior College in Trinidad, Colorado. He majored in gunsmithing while I majored in Drafting and Civil Engineering Technology.

We had to take jobs in the summer to help pay for–everything. He repaired roofs in Denver with a friend, while I worked at the Rio Grande National Forest as a land surveyor.

We visited our parents a few weeks before our prospective jobs started. I told my mom about my new job, and she said, “Do you have a firearm?”

I said, “My Ruger .22 revolver.”

She glared at my new husband and said, “You let my daughter carry a .22?!”

I stifled a grin knowing exactly where this was headed; I also knew that Dave didn’t know my parents well enough yet to know why my mom seemed so upset. He told me later that he thought, “Great. My mother-in-law is anti-gun.”

She asked the question again, but tish louder. I’m trying not to laugh at this point. All Dave could do was stare at her (she was a tiny thing, but could be quite intimidating when she wanted to be).

Finally she jumped to her feet and said, “That’s not big enough!”

I don’t remember for certain, but I may have finally burst out laughing here.

She stomped to her bedroom, came out a few minutes later and shoved a stainless steel, Smith and Wesson Lady Smith snubbed-nose .38 revolver at me. “Now that’s big enough for my daughter!” She also told me that if I decided not to keep it, she had first dibs to buy it back.

I still have it, and although she passed away almost eight years ago now, I have no plans on selling it. It’ll always remind me of her and how quickly (and uncomfortably) my husband learned that they had more than me in common.

The Seventh Deadly Sin

In today’s society (especially this month), it’s all about pride. Pride in your skin color, your heritage, and culture. Pride in your sex, your gender (for those who consider them separate), and who you’re attracted to.

The seven deadly sins are: Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy and Pride.

Why is pride on that list, especially since society expects us to celebrate every kind of pride imaginable–believing it to be a virtue?

Humans are a rebellious lot, and rebellion against God is our favorite. The first and easiest way is through hubris: in believing we know better than God. “He’s too far away to understand. He doesn’t care. Look at all the evil in the world that he does nothing about. He doesn’t exist anyway, so everything is up to us to create or destroy however we see fit.” Etc., etc.

The first sin in the Bible began with the temptation of pride: “God knows that your eyes will be opened as soon as you eat [the fruit], and you will be like God, knowing both good and evil.” (Genesis 3:5, NLT, emphasis mine)

Almost every evil deed (including our own) can be traced through a seed of pride.

Taking the spiritual out of it, there are other, worldly consequences of pride.

When people embrace pride, they lose all humility. As such, they believe they are perfect, and have nothing left to learn. They become haughty, and few people like to spend time with a “know-it-all” (I am certainly guilty of this).

They also start to see others as less than them. Less smart, less beautiful. In extreme examples, less human. Anyone who has a modicum of historical knowledge knows the consequences of dehumanizing a certain group of people.

Prideful people often see others unlike them as the enemy that must be destroyed. At the very least ignored or silenced, because how dare anyone question their beliefs or opinions?

How often have people harmed themselves or others accidentally, because they believed they could do something without taking a step back first and asking, “Can I really do this? Should I do this?”

Humility, on the other hand is acknowledging that no one is perfect, including themselves. Humble people tend to self-reflect (without being self-absorbed). They are more inclined to seek out new knowledge, new people, are less judgmental of others, and are willing to test their assumptions. Above all, they are willing to change their view and apologize for being wrong if enough facts to the contrary come to light.

Imagine what society would be like if people embraced humility instead of pride.

“Pride leads to disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom.” ~ Proverbs 11:2 (NLT)

“Do not love the world nor the things it offers you, for when you love the world, you do not have the love of the Father in you. For the world offers only a craving for physical pleasure, a craving for everything we see, and pride in our achievements and possessions. These are not from the Father, but are from this world. And this world is fading away along with everything that people crave. But anyone who does what pleases God will live forever.” ~ 1 John 2:15-17 (NLT)

It’s All About The Journey

I haven’t written much lately. I could claim being too busy, but if I added up all the hours I waste on the computer or binge-watching Psych, you’d be shocked.

I also felt out of ideas, and with editing stories for Havok magazine (gohavok.com), I didn’t want to edit any of my own stories.

That’s not to say I’ve been completely unproductive. I did manage to write another short story for gohavok, but only because some days were short on submissions. There’s no guarantee it’ll be published, but if not, that’s okay. At least I wrote something.

I’ve also been bouncing a germ of a story around in my head for the last few months, and I finally started writing it today. It’s about a woman who’s imprisoned for murdering her family, and her struggle with how to prove her innocence from a prison cell, accepting that she may never get out short of death, and holding on to her sanity through it all.

Being a “pantser” writer (one who writes with no outline or character sketches, and simply wings it from start to finish), I have no idea how long this story will be. No matter. It’s the journey that excites me, not the destination.

Perfectly Ordinary

A while back I saw this meme:

I understand the complaint, but at the same time, the cartoonist didn’t research into artwork of Jesus from around the world. He instead concentrated on European artwork. Following are several I found with a cursory Internet search.

From the Democratic Republic of Congo:

Korea:

Mongolia:

Philadelphia, USA:

I don’t know who painted this or where the artist is from (if you do, please comment), but I think it’s gorgeous:

While most agree Jesus was of mid-eastern descent, no one knows what he looked like. The Bible makes little mention of his physical appearance (with some notable exceptions). Many, however, attribute Isaiah 53:2 to Jesus’s appearance: “For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.”

The notable descriptions of his appearance in the New Testament are during his transfiguration in Matthew 17:2: “And He was transfigured before them; and His face shone like the sun, and His garments became as white as light.”

His resurrection in Matthew 28:3: “His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow.”

And his return in Revelation 1:13-15: “and in the midst of the lampstands one like a son of man, clothed with a long robe and with a golden sash around his chest. The hairs of his head were white, like white wool, like snow. His eyes were like a flame of fire, his feet were like burnished bronze, refined in a furnace, and his voice was like the roar of many waters.”

All those descriptions never mention his skin or eye color, how tall he was, his build, or if he had any distinguishing features as he grew up and started his ministry.

In other words, he looked like everyone.

That different cultures would weave him into their own, and artists would depict him with their own ethnic features is a beautiful thing. Because God doesn’t care about our physical features, neither should we care about Jesus’ physical features. It’s all irrelevant anyway. What matters is the heart and soul.

That’s how he would want it, I think, because he didn’t come to earth to save only the Israelites, mid-easterners, Europeans, or anyone else of a specific ethnicity or nationality.

He came to save all of us.

Undisciplined Devotion

Once again my church offered an opportunity to write several devotionals for Lent. This time focuses on the book of Mark. Because I have so much reading and editing to do, I chose to write only four (I usually pick five or six).

I’m not one to set aside time for devotions, whether it’s reading the Bible, other devotionals, or scriptural studies. My faith suffers a little for it, but it’s never been enough to change my ways.

The main reason I like to volunteer to write devotions is it forces me to read and study. Even more than that, it forces me to discover how it applies to me, so the reader can apply it to his/her life also. Writing devotions requires study, but also introspection and humility.

Laying one’s heart and shortfalls on a page for hundreds of people to read is never easy. It’s a 300-word journey from ignorance to wisdom. Even more importantly, it should end with a focus on God, not the writer. A difficult task for someone as prideful as me. So much so, this time I’m tempted to tell the editor to add Anonymous to my devotions instead of my name. I want God to shine through the words, not me.