Risk

21 Brothers

Current Events, Risk View all 2 comments

I’ve grown to despise the 10 o’clock news over my 31 years. As a young girl, it was a mere inconvenience. There were more entertaining shows to watch. I had no use for boring facts and political reports. As a teenager, I became appalled by the stories of “kids just being kids”. It seemed sex, stealing, destruction were all normal expectations of teenagers if you were to believe the news. But I was a teenager and I didn’t want to be labeled. I didn’t want to be thrown in with mix. So I tuned it out because, what could I do? As an adult, I have grown tired of the unnecessary lines in the sand. Talking heads demanding to know whose side we are all on. Conservative or liberal. Christian or open-minded. Feminist or blind. Black or white. I have grown tired of navigating the maze that has been created by all of our lines. And I have grown tired of the manipulating fear tactics, reporters reminding us to be afraid because of climate changes. Be afraid because of diseases. Be afraid because of this, because of that. There has been a rumbling in the world and it has been growing. A violent shaking. At first, it was easy to ignore. Just more fear-mongering. More bait to keep us hooked on their every word. You on the words of the talking heads on your side. Me hooked on my side. But the rumbling has grown. And this past week, when 21 Christians were beheaded for their faith, the rumbling caught up to me. I cannot ignore it. I have read the thoughts of others on the matter. Prayers, political statements, fears, heartaches. And yet, I sit here, a writer, a sister to the slaughtered, feeling completely inadequate to even speak to myself in this moment. Two days ago I was weighed down by my own burdens, heartaches, wounds, worries, shame. I could not shake it. Then, on Sunday, the walls shook and crumbled and all of it came rushing out. And when the flood of self-focused-heartache subsided, I looked up at my parents’ television to see my brothers kneeling at the shore of eternity, their knees sinking into the sand of the earth while their hearts were swept further into the ocean of the glory of Christ. And I wanted to look away. But I cannot. I cannot ignore their cries. Perhaps it was their cries, their shouts that caused the walls of my Jericho to crumble that day. So ISIS, you have my attention. You have slaughtered my brothers. You have warned us, the nation of the cross, no more a physical nation than your own ISIS. We are not contained to a land and you know it. So you warn and we hear you. You have my attention. But I will not give you my fear. I fear The One who is able to destroy the soul and the body (Matthew 10:28). And my fear of Him is also my confidence. I hear the talking heads begging us to live in fear. Promising that you may be waiting outside the doors of our own churches soon. And I admit, my hands tremble at the thought. I am not brave. I have said it before. There is no incredible courage running through my veins. But the courage that ran through the veins of Christ has covered me. And this One who spilled His blood, red courage, crimson love to give life to the dead, He warned us there would be those who would murder us and believe they were honoring God by the act (John 16:2). And here you are. There have been others, but now it is you.  So here is what I will do with your words echoing in my ears, with the image of my family members burned on my eyes…

  • I will remember that as a family of Christ, their deaths affect me. 
  • I will remember that my family in Egypt and Syria and Iraq and China and many other places are experiencing pains I cannot fathom at this point in history.
  • I will remember that Jesus promised persecution for The Church. 
  • I will remember that history proves that persecution only serves to grow the Church, not silence Her.
  • And that a lack of persecution is, in fact, more dangerous than facing death for our faith.
  • I will remember that Christ, who sat down when He had finished His work on the cross, stood to welcome my 21 brothers home. 
  • I will remember that the orange jumpsuits you clothed them in, and sin-stained rags we all cloth ourselves in, were traded in for robes of white. 
  • I will remember that Jesus has already won. 

So my knees may shake from the rumbling, but I will remember that the cause of the rumble is the armies of God, the crumbling of walls, the fall of giants who would mock Christ. Our army may be untrained. They may seem common and weak when compared to your militant ranks. But like David, we know our God is bigger. Like Joshua, we believe that even uncommon tactics that feel like walking in circles, when paired with faith in Christ, can destroy nations. We believe with Daniel, that governments can tell us to fear the consequence of our faith, but our God can shut tight the mouths of lions. We believe with Christ that Sauls can become Pauls. Yes, even you. Even you might come face to face with Christ and be changed. And I will remember that Christ commanded us to pray for our enemies. Yes. Even you.

Framework:2015

Holidays, Risk View all 3 comments

I’m a little late on the New Year’s blog post bandwagon, but sometimes you need a few extra days to get your bearings before you can send word out to the masses about your location.

Let me ask you a question. What is your approach to a new year? Do you make resolutions? Set goals?

I don’t make resolutions anymore. I don’t keep resolutions, as is evident if you look at the journal I was going to keep in my 30th year of life. The first five pages are full. The rest would appear that I vanished to that imaginary deserted island and being allowed only three objects, decided that my journal did not make the cut.

No, no more resolutions for me. For the last couple of years, I’ve chosen themes. I know. I know. You are wondering if “theme” is just a fancy word for another unkept “resolution”. Fair enough. But no, it is not. When I choose a theme, it consists of a Bible verse and a word. There are no actual actions or behaviors or habits set in stone.

The verse is usually one that I feel The Lord has given me as a promise, or an anchor. For example, my theme verse for 2014 is hanging next to my desk. Psalm 65:11, “You crown the year with bountiful harvest, even the hard pathways overflow with abundance.” It’s such a beautiful promise, and one that He kept this past year, in both obvious and mysterious ways. I almost hate to change it out for my new verse because I want to just claim abundance everyday.

However, the time has come for a new theme and this year it is Zechariah 9:12, “Return to your stronghold, O prisoners of hope; today I declare that I will restore to you double.”

Prisoners of hope.

I love that! I chose this verse because, sometimes, we can get bogged down by the past, by mistakes and habits that we can’t seem to shake. But ultimately, we are not captives without hope. Our chains have been broken and when we rely on the Lord, He promises our joy will be fully restored. Anything the enemy has stolen from us, Our Stronghold, Our Father will restore two-fold. We tend to define ourselves, our lives, by our chains. We live into our past captivity rather than into the present and future hope of our freedom in Christ. And the truth is that it is both. As Zechariah suggests, we are not yet completely free, and yet we are. Our chains are part of our story, but our hope is our ultimate story. Good stuff, isn’t it?

On to the second part of my 2015 theme: A word. Since I recently wrote about it, you probably are not surprised that my word is “adventure”. Remember this?

Adventure is not an event. It is an attitude. It is showing up every day, watching for and entering into the risks of relationships, of unknowns. It is giving away your last $20 to someone when you aren’t sure where the next $20 will come from. It is loving your family member that doesn’t know how to receive love. Adventure is asking for help again when the last 10 times you have been burned. Being brave is holding on to the vision that The Holy Spirit has delivered to you even when the voices of logic say it’s crazy…or reckless. Adventure is stepping into difficult things.

And now, with my theme verse and word, I have a framework for the choices I will make in 2015. Am I living into the promise of Zechariah 9:12? Am I approaching each day with an adventurous heart? So, some of those resolutions I used to make… The question is no longer “How long will I last this time?” No. The question becomes, “Does my current choice fit within my framework?”
Would a prisoner of hope, an adventurer sit here and watch Netflix or would she create something, learn something? Would a brave woman who is shaking off the chains that once were shackled to her feet, wait for someone to invite her to something or would she reach out to new people, to distant friends, even to the ones who have left scars? Maybe it’s even as simple as, “Does this framework support my lack of desire to clean the kitchen? I have to check over and over again, because somedays, the answer may be, “YES! Leave the dishes and go be outside!” But most often, I’m guessing, the response I will hear from The Spirit that lives in me is, “No. I know it’s easier to be lazy. But that is not the way a woman of valor lives. And you, Erin, are a woman of valor. Put on some music, dance, and clean those plates. You are loved!” (I think The Spirit always ends conversations with “You are loved.”)

I’m not a fool. I know I will fail at times, but the framework will not. In the same way that a homebuilder assembles the framework of a house and creates a certain space for where each room will be, I have a framework for my year. The furnishings may change. The pipes might even burst, but the framework is steady.

Maybe you are fed up with resolutions too. Right on. There are no rules about how you will define your life in the new year. Maybe you need to be done with resolutions. Maybe, instead, it would work better for you to find a framework. What will it be for 2015? What promise will you cling to? What type of person will you be? And, who will remind you of these things on the hard days?

And remember, no matter what your approach, no matter how long you last or how often you fail, you are loved.

 

What Makes Adventure?

Risk, The Single Life View all 2 comments

Adventure:

1) a>an undertaking usually involving danger and unknown risks

b> the encountering of risks

2) an exciting or remarkable experience


I think I may have mentioned before that a word friends often use to describe me is “brave”.  I have shared with some that I do not understand this assessment of my life, because if I’m being honest, I feel far less than brave. I have not taken risks in my life, at least by my own measure.


I look at the stories others have lived and feel small, afraid, weak. I can hardly get through a chapter of “Kisses from Katie” in one sitting because I long for adventure like the one she is living. I long to adopt, to change lives, to be uncomfortable…but comfortably uncomfortable. Is that a thing?


I meet people who live with passion that could shake the earth and move mountains, and I wonder what I missed.


But, as I’ve been reflecting on all of this the past month or so, I’m discovering something fascinating. Adventure is far less about what and where you do what you do. Being brave is much less about grand gestures.


Confession time. I’ve been an online dater (and for several reasons, I have not found it enjoyable.) I found many profiles stating that they want a woman who is adventurous. I’ve always been baffled by this. Adventure is so broad. Of course, most of the time, this quality requirement is paired with a picture of the guy hanging upside down from a cliff, but nonetheless, I wonder what they really are searching for. After all, there will come a day when your body will no longer allow you to hang from a cliff. Is adventure over at that point?


Some of the bravest people I know would never hang from a cliff or swim with sharks. But, everyday, they wake up and step back into the heartache of foster care and adoption. They step into the mess of helping hospice patients face the end of their days with dignity. They continue to put their hearts to melodies for the world to scrutinize. These brave ones may never have their own reality show or write a novel based on their grand gestures, but they are brave. They are adventurers.


Adventure is not an event. It is an attitude. It is showing up every day, watching for and entering into the risks of relationships, of unknowns. It is giving away your last $20 to someone when you aren’t sure where the next $20 will come from. It is loving your family member that doesn’t know how to receive love. Adventure is asking for help again when the last 10 times you have been burned. Being brave is holding on to the vision that The Holy Spirit has delivered to you even when the voices of logic say it’s crazy…or reckless. Adventure is stepping into difficult things. But, here’s the thing, I want my adventures to be for more than an adrenaline rush.


So yes, maybe my dating profile should also read “searching for an adventurer”. But let me clarify… I want adventures beyond scaling Mt. Everest.  I want adventures that move Mt. Everest. I want adventures that reach eternity.



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 “Adventure.” Merriam-Webster.com. Merriam-Webster, n.d. Web. 2 Dec. 2014. <http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/adventure&gt;.