Yes, I Really Want to Die.

When I was in 8th grade, I met my bestest friend ever, Jennie.  We actually knew about each other the previous year, but we were not friends yet.  There was a lot of junior high drama as to why we hated each other before we even really met, but Jennie didn’t like me even before all of that.  She told me years later that she would see me walking down the hall, before I even knew her name, and think to herself, “There goes that ‘B’.”

Similarly, my husband’s first impression of me was less than stellar.  He had just graduated college and, as such, was also “graduating” at church from the college ministry to the singles’ ministry.  I was already in the young singles’ class, even though I was only 19, because I was working full time and felt weird with the college kids.  All that aside, Justin (the visitor) asked me (the regular) if the Sunday school class ever got together outside of church.  Feeling as though I was cordial enough, I took down his number and said I’d call him if we did.  And I found out much later that his internal response to my supposed cordiality was, “Wow… I’ll be sure to never ask her anything ever again.”

~~~

Yesterday, I posted an entry from my journal that I entitled, “Kill Me.”  I chose that title because it really captures the essence of what I need God to do for me; there’s just no hope any other way.   Jennie and Justin thought I was a total jerk because I really am, and I always have been.

Sure, I’m usually pretty nice to my friends.  (I mean, I won over Jennie and Justin, didn’t I?)  But, I’m pretty stand-offish until I decide you actually are my friend.  At this point, I could easily waste your time and my words waxing eloquent about the psychological ramifications of my past, therefore giving reasons for my introverted, distrusting nature, but that puts my Savior to shame.  Sure, things have affected me, but Christ has redeemed me.  So, it’s time to stop acting badly.

It is a real struggle for me to be friendly to people I don’t know.  I can put on a show when necessary, but my true nature comes out when I am not in control of the situation.  When someone surprises me, or plans change, or I meet someone new when I didn’t plan to meet someone new, I am sometimes surprisingly rude.  I like to think I’m not, and I like to make excuses when I simply can’t deny it, but there are no two ways about it; I’m a jerk.

I’ve come face-to-face with this reality as I’ve meditated on the two greatest commandments lately: Love God and Love Others.  Oh, how I love God.  I ache for Him.  It’s true that I could love Him more deeply and better, but it’s undeniable that I truly love Him.  But the second commandment?  I can’t do it.  At least, not the way Yeshua commands.  I don’t get a cookie for loving people who love me; that’s meaningless.  I have to go out of my way, sacrifice my comfort, overcome my psychological bent, sometimes embarrass myself, and extravagantly love the unlovable, the unlovely, the unnoticed, and the simply-not-yet-befriended.

I can’t do it.  So, I need God to kill me.

(Figuratively, of course.)

By this, all men will know that you are My disciples, if you have love for one another.
~Yeshua Messiah  (John 13:35)

Kill Me …from my journal

December 12, 2009

For that which I am doing, I do not understand; for I am not practicing what I would like to do, but I am doing the very thing I hate.  But if I do the very thing I do not wish to do, I agree with the Law, confessing that it is good.  So now, no longer am I the one doing it, but the sin which indwells me.  For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh; for the wishing is present in me, but the doing of the good is not.  For the good that I wish, I do not do; but I practice the very evil that I do not wish.  But if I am doing the very thing I do not wish, I am no longer the one doing it, but sin which dwells in me.  I find then the principle that evil is present in me, the one who wishes to do good.  For I joyfully concur with the law of God in the inner man, but I see a different law in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind, and making me prisoner of the law of sin which is in my members.  Wretched man that I am!  Who will set me free from the body of this death?  Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!  So then, on the one hand I myself with my mind am serving the law of God, but on the other, with my flesh the law of sin.  Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.  For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has set you free from the law of sin and of death.
~Romans 7:15 – 8:2

Jesus, please win this war.  Not that I think You can’t, but that I fear You won’t in me.  I trust Your word that all who call on you will be saved, but I fear Your word that not everyone who says, “Lord, Lord,” may enter the kingdom of Heaven.  Who am I?  The one for whom Paul’s speech about no condemnation is true?  Or the one who will stand horrified as you claim to have never known her?  Please know me.  Let me know You.  Teach me.  Kill me.  Please hold me and forgive me.

~Maranatha

Silence

A friend lent me the book Silence by Shusaku Endo (translated by William Johnston).  It’s about a Portuguese missionary priest facing persecution in 17th-century Japan.  If you know me, then you know that this book is right up my alley!

This book asked the hard questions.  One major issue, as evinced by the title, is silence.  Of particular concern is the apparent silence of God while faithful ones scream, moan, and die for Him.  The protagonist questions God again and again about this, and answers to this one just don’t come easy.

Another major issue is that of apostasy, or the denial of faith.  Endo includes a few characters who, in the face of torture or the threat of torture, gave up information about other Christians and apostasized.  Of serious concern, however, is whether one can deny the faith only as a formality.  Is it possible, or acceptable, to deny the faith outwardly to save the lives of others, and then continue secretly to keep the faith?  Does that work, in light of Jesus’ own words?  The book doesn’t take an obvious stance, but it gives serious hints.

While the subject matter reeled me in, the writing style did not.  To be fair, this is a book in translation.  It’s tough to know whether the blame should be laid on the author or on the translator for the sometimes awkward sentence structure and unusual word choice.  Although this book is considered to be the author’s masterpiece, I can’t imagine that.  The content was there, but the mechanics got in the way.  It needs a good polishing.  Perhaps if one could find the work translated by another person, they’d have a different experience.

Overall, I recommend it to the Christian reader.  But, be prepared to get mad!

Doesn’t Play Well with Others

It’s a wonder I never received that remark on a report card.  The truth is, I am NOT a team player, and I never have been.  Any time a teacher or professor assigned group work or a group project, I died a little inside.  Depending on my work mates, I would either have to do absolutely everything myself, or I’d be so ignored that I’d have to muster up the courage to interrupt the cool people to make sure my name was on the paper, too.

P.E. was an absolute nightmare for me.  I could never run fast or for very long.  The fat kid and I were neck and neck for biggest loser every time.  I was picked last for team games (sometimes after the fat kid) because I absolutely sucked at them.  I sucked at them because I got incredibly nervous about my team counting on me, and I therefore froze up every time the ball came near me.  I was an absolute embarrassment on the field, and P.E. was a humiliating experience every day.

Even today, working collaboratively with others is a major struggle.  I either take charge, or I completely back down; there is no in-between.  I simply can’t work together.  Either let me do it, or you can do it.

That’s a handicapping personality flaw.  How do I fix it?

A Life-Long Process

Dear Christian reader, press on persistently to know the Lord Jesus; seek His face regularly that your heart may gaze upon Him; exercise discipline habitually so that you fully cooperate with Him in your transformation; and love Him passionately so that your heart stays close to Him. Be settled in your heart: This is a lifelong process.
~Jerry White

I am a self-beater-upper.  I admit it.  Although I don’t believe in self-esteem, one might say I need a dose of it.  (I don’t agree with one, but it’s been said.)

I could go lots of ways with this; choose an area of life, and I could tell you why I think I suck at it.  Whether it’s keeping house, keeping my hair looking nice, or keeping myself on track with my Yeshua, I can give you a list of reasons why I’m inadequate.  Usually, I brush off any comments encouraging me away from what may appear to be unhealthy thoughts by reminding the encourager that I truly am a worm and that I truly do deserve to burn in hell for all eternity.  Argument won; I suck.  You cannot convince me otherwise.  (No, I am not criticizing God’s good creation.  I am criticizing how I’ve corrupted it.)

Does this mean I go around a mopey mess, just talking about how much I suck?  Of course not!  I usually keep my self-loathing to myself, unless pressed.  I do, of course, realize that God’s grace is sufficient.  None of my sins can overpower God’s grace.  Count me unspeakably grateful, and completely cognizant of my ultimate freedom from sin through the death, burial, and resurrection of the Messiah!  Hallelujah and amen.

However, I beat myself up daily for choosing things over Him.  Deservedly so — my relationship with Him suffers because of it.  I deeply desire an intimacy I’ve never known — an intimacy I’ve only read about and experienced on the fringes.  It’s there, but I’m not there because of me.  It’s infuriating.  But, I’m encouraged by the words above.  ”It’s a life-long process.”

I echo the most honest words ever spoken:

Have mercy on me, a sinner.

What?

I just spent the last hour writing several different things and deleting them all.  I tried all sorts of different posts, but nothing was right.  I have 33 drafts pending, but they’re not ready.  I’m not ready.  For the first time in a long time, I have no idea what to say to you today.  So, I want to ask you:

What do you enjoy reading here?  What types of posts do you prefer over others?  Is there something you want me to write more of?  Is there something you wish I’d talk about?  What should I write tomorrow?

I need more ideas.  Maybe some of them will be ready to be written.  Help!

Had the Sickies

It all started last Thursday.  I woke up with a sore throat, but I didn’t think it was any big deal.  Unfortunately, my condition rapidly declined as the minutes ticked by.  It was obvious before first period was halfway through that I would probably need to go home.  At the beginning of third, I plopped myself down in front of the sub coordinator and just looked at her.  Being the totally awesome person she is, she took care of it for me!  I had a sub by 11:45.

By 12:15, I was haphazardly strewn across the bed and pitifully asking Justin to make me soup and an apple juice.  Then, I slept for the next two days, interrupted often by uncontrollable chills and trips to the refrigerator for more apple juice.  It was awful.  It might have been the pigs; I don’t know.  It was just awful.

Besides the agony, one of the worst things about the whole situation was the heartless quarantine!  My husband was so determined to not get sick that I was completely isolated.

Let’s just get down to business.  I’ve done the whole “love-language” deal, and I’m the cuddler.  For four agonizing days, my husband flatly refused to come near me, much less to hug me!  It was horrific and heart-breaking.  I was so lonely!  I kept trying to sneak-attack hug him, but he was shifty!  Even a little toe-hug was met with icy stares and rebuke.

I tried to cuddle Spooky, and it worked well sometimes.  But anytime I got into a coughing fit, he’d bite me.

In all, I’m happy to report that those days are over!  I’m whole and healed, and I got a hug yesterday!  But Mrs. Hopper, don’t worry; I will take the high road and save you from potentially feeling like a bad friend or a bad mommy.  I’ll keep my distance from the little one tonight, and I’ll just make faces at him from across the room.  :)  But next week — it’s on!  That baby better be awake and ready to play!

Such a Slow Learner

FROM AN OLD JOURNAL:

8-16-07

PHILIPPIANS 2:12

What does it mean to work out your salvation with fear and trembling?  It seems that it’s not an easy thing, or there wouldn’t be fear and trembling!  I’m becoming more and more convinced that while we can do nothing in ourselves to become saved, it probably isn’t as easy a deal as people try to make it.  The “repeat after me” prayer probably doesn’t often cut it.  It’s weird… it’s nothing we can work for or earn, so the message is that it’s easy and all you have to do is believe.  But, even the demons believe – they’re certainly not saved!  And many who think they’re saved will be turned away in the day of judgement.  And the path is narrow and few find it.  And God endured vessels prepared for destruction for His glory.  It seems to me that the predestination camp is really on to something AND that we aren’t even close to having anything figured out.  Perhaps salvation isn’t simple at all if Paul tells us to work it out in fear and trembling.  None of that sounds easy, or highly enjoyable, and it’s really frustratingly imprecise.  Work it out how?  What’s to work out?  I thought we weren’t saved as a result of anything we’ve done.  Perhaps it just means to try and understand or appreciate it.  I don’t know.  But fear and trembling don’t sound pleasant.  In my estimation, however, we really do need a healthy dose of terror when thinking of the Lord and His power.  The Church plays the “God is love” card too often and fails to explain love or what else God is.  God is really terrifying.

Maranatha

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10-3-07

“Leave vain things to vain people, and give your attention to those things that God asks of you.  Go into your room, shut your door, and call upon Jesus, your Beloved.  Stay with Him in the privacy of your own room, for you will not find such peace anywhere else.”  ~Thomas à Kempis

Maranatha

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8-26-08

“Doesn’t his majesty terrify you?  Doesn’t your fear of him overwhelm you?”   ~Job 13:11

Maranatha

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11-29-08

PSALM 119:136 (NLT)

“Rivers of tears gush from my eyes because people disobey your instructions.”

Why don’t I feel that deeply for others?  Why am I so self-absorbed?

Help me, Yeshua.

Maranatha

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12-27-08

I see the verse I copied a month ago and it still rings untrue.  However, I do feel that the Spirit is leading me more outside myself.  Between Voice of the Martyrs, my refugee kids at [school], Under the Overpass, and repeated truths from His Word, I’m becoming more disgusted with myself and more concerned about those without.  I really want to learn Spanish and head south.  I want to get out of America and have to rely solely on Him.  I want to see how others live instead of just hearing about it.  I want to really make a difference.  Yeshua, guide my steps.  Send me.  Make me willing.

Maranatha

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I know it may seem disjointed to someone who is not in my head.  However, all of it ties together quite terribly for me and God: I don’t take Him or His message seriously.  If I did, my life would be much different.  I fear I am no closer to true discipleship or true service than I was in the above entries.

In future posts, I plan to expound on my thoughts and convictions.  This is meant to be an introduction to some things I’ve been trying desperately to ignore.

Does ANYBODY Like Miami?

As previously promised, I’m posting an old rant about South Florida that I had put on my MySpace blog, back when I used MySpace.  I wrote it during my first year living there.  Everything contained in it is 100% accurate.  I simply was not a Miami girl.  :)

Sunday, February 18, 2007

So, I don’t know.  I’m really just curious why this place is so crowded.  Do people actually enjoy it here?

A leaky shack in a really scary neighborhood will cost you the same as a nice house in Plano would cost.  And yes I mean shack, and yes I mean a very nice house in Plano.

Need to drive ten miles?  Give yourself an hour and a half.  And one of those stress-reducing tapes that makes you think of the ocean and makes you count to ten a lot.  And then you might be able to look past the honking and the constant near-wrecks from people cutting you off for about ten minutes.  After that, you’ll throw the tape out the window and start cussing and cutting people off with the best of them.

Want to go out to eat?  Expect a waitress, in about 30 minutes, to walk up and stare at you impatiently.  After that, she will communicate with you in grunts.  That is, if she ever decides to come back to your table.

Need to go to the grocery store?  Getting hit with other people’s carts is the norm, and you won’t even get grunting from the cashier.  She will scan your things and stare at you when she’s done.  Well, that’s only after she’s finished her “Oh no he DIDN’T” conversation with her friend who’s standing behind the register with her.  And then she’ll look at you annoyed because you had the audacity to interrupt her conversation by requesting that she perform some semblance of what she was hired to do.

Oh, did you want to enjoy the beautiful beaches?  Well, by the time you find an expensive parking place (ten miles away) and make the hike to the sandy paradise, you’ll be too sweaty and tired to really enjoy much of anything, and you’ll be ready to go home before you even see the sand.

And my most recent experience tops it all:  If you find that you’ve arrived at the Olive Garden parking lot and your little bundle of joy has pooped his diaper, no worries!  Just change him right there and toss the dirty diaper in the parking lot, along with any wipes you needed to use.  I’m sure someone will pick it up for you.  It’s definitely someone else’s job to clean up your child’s feces.

GOD BLESSED TEXAS!!!!!!!!!!!!

My Lazyometer

One of the best benefits of working in my district is a free health club membership.  I can literally go to this club for absolutely zero cost to my person.  It’s awesome, and I love it – especially for Zumba!  During the school year, I was going to Zumba twice a week in addition to attending other classes or doing some other workout routine 2-4 times per week.  It was easy to convince myself, since the gym was literally on my way home from school!

The summer, however, has tested my dedication.  First, I taught summer school for the month of June and a little bit into July.  The location was completely across town.  Any time I wanted to go to the gym, I would literally have to drive 25 minutes, pass my house, and drive another 15.  So, I didn’t go often, to say the least!  July brought with it a very similar commute for my writing workshop.  Not a lot of gym action then, either. 

All told, I probably averaged 1-2 visits to the gym per week over the summer.  But those few days were glorious because I would proudly display my pedometer to my husband so he could be fully amazed by the thousands upon thousands of steps I had taken!

You see, along with my free gym membership, I get a free pedometer and a membership into the Virgin HealthMiles program.  If I take enough steps, I get monetary rewards! 

Well, this seemingly awesome device has become a snotty little tattle-tale.  When Justin comes home from work, if he suspects that I have been unproductive, he just checks my numbers.  And then I’m in for it. 

You see, my husband believes that physical activity equals productivity.  Unfortunately, he doesn’t appear to value productivity of the mind.  I may have spent much of the day on the computer, but I’ve been writing!  I’m blogged up for the week!  I’ve written two chapters of my book!

And, by the way, I haven’t been on the computer the whole time.  I’m making major headway in Don Quixote.  I have my daily Bible.  I have my journal.

My mind is firing on all cylinders!  I wish that lazyometer measured brain activity.  It’d be off the charts! 

Oh well.  Physical productivity will pick up next week as I head back to school.  Ack.