Sin, Grace, and the False Dilemma

The other day, the Christian band "Among the Thirsty" had a quote posted on their Facebook timeline. No one was credited, so I'm assuming it was one of their musicians, but I could be wrong.  Anyway, I liked this quote because it perfectly summarized a thought I've been having lately.

This is what was posted:

"The depravity of man and God's unconditional love for man are merely opposing truths without the bridge that Christ creates."

Lately, it seems I've been bombarded with this idea that EITHER we are dirty, worthless, weak sinners, OR we are redeemed, beautiful, beloved children of God.  I've been gently chided by well-meaning people for suggesting that I'm weak or worthless. I've heard people talking about this either-or scenario, seen people post about it on social media. And honestly, I have wanted to speak up about it for awhile.

Now, I get where some people are coming from (to a point). There are those that can't believe God would love them or that Christ would die for them because they believe the lie that they're too dirty or too far gone. There are also people who have gone through situations that make it oppressively difficult for them to refer to themselves or others as "dirty" or "worthless." I'm trying to be sensitive to that, but I'm coming from a different place. I can't keep quiet about it.

I'm coming from a place where I realize how sinful, weak, and worthless I really am. I'm coming from a place where I know the depravity of my heart, the way it can be quickly turned, the way it seeks the idol of self, the way it always has sought the idol of self. I know how weak I am, that I fear so much, that I want to hide away from the world. I know my worthlessness, that I've corrupted myself for the sake of such temporal things, that I don't have anything of my own to give.

In the perspective of the either-or philosophy on redemption that I've seen so often lately, things don't look so good for me.

Good thing I don't buy into the false dilemma, either-or philosophy.

It's not an either-or; it's a BOTH-AND. It's the most remarkable both-and scenario that ever existed, will ever exist. It's the both-and that changes everything.

I can't grasp how remarkable it is that God loves me unless I know how unlovable I am. I can't grasp how powerful God is unless I know how weak I am. I can't grasp how remarkable it is that Christ would die for me while I was still a sinner, unless I have some minute knowledge of how totally depraved I am.

I'm not wallowing in sin and worthlessness.  That's not where I am at all.  I'm understanding (as much as I can) how hopeless I would be without Christ so that I can appreciate (as much as I can) how much hope I have with Christ.

I'm no longer worthless, not because of some innate worth, but because Christ has given me worth and restored me to the purposes for which I was fearfully and wonderfully made-the God works which were prepared in advance for me to do, to the glory of God. I'm no longer weak because Christ's power is made perfect in my weakness. I'm no longer dirty because Christ literally went through hell to clean me up.

But I can't forget who I would be if God decided to leave me as I was, without Him. I can't act as if I were (and I quote a "Sidewalk Prophets" song that has great intent, and yet, I believe, misses the point) "someone worth dying for." I'm NOT someone worth dying for. But God, because He IS worthy, became a man and died for me. It's not because I am lovable, but because HE IS LOVING.

That is the point.

And while others might find the both-and scenario oppressive, I find that this truth frees me up.  My time and talents aren't mine. They were freely given to me, so I can freely give to others. My worth isn't by my own merit, so I don't have to be afraid that I'm going to mess up and somehow lose my worth. My weaknesses are just opportunities for Christ to reveal His strength. I can truly love my Father because I know how much He loves me. I can truly serve my Father because I know what He has done to adopt me as His child--not just a servant (though I don't even deserve to be that) BUT HIS CHILD.

I'm not wallowing in sin here at all. I'm realizing the remarkable, wonderful, incredible truth that Christ has done the impossible. He bridged the dilemma, the gap, the chasm of our sin, ever keeping us from God's holiness.  He's brought us back to God, made us whole again, and made us children of God.  No, I'm not wallowing. I'm rejoicing!

All glory to God.

Intercession as Leadership

This morning, I began my prayer thanking God for the ease of which I can come into His presence. And then immediately thanked God for the incredibly difficult things He has done to enable me to easily come into His presence. Because I'm usually praying in my pajamas or in tshirt and tattered jeans, and I'm entering a throne room, going into the Most Holy Place before the Most Holy King. Yet, there's no ritual, no big production, no methodic cleansing. It's just me, in the presence of God.

And intercession is a really interesting thing in light of that. It takes a certain degree of boldness to ask God for anything. It also takes trust-trust that He who had enabled us to come to Him will hear us.

One of my favorite C.S. Lewis quotes is from THE MAGICIAN'S NEPHEW. The newly winged, newly named flying horse, Fledge, addresses the children traveling with him, who are curious as to why Aslan didn't think to provide for their meals on their journey:

"I'm sure Aslan would have, if you'd asked him," said Fledge.
"Wouldn't he know without being asked?" said Polly.
"I have no doubt that he would....  But I've a sort of idea that he likes being asked."

Asking for things in prayer is a sign of trust, of obedience. But when it comes to praying for others, I think that sometimes trust is taken to another level, specifically when praying for those who are without Christ or who have strayed from Him.

There are many examples of leadership in Scripture-good and bad examples. There are judges who do really bizarre and mighty things. There are kings who worship false gods, as well as those who try to tear down the idols.  There are shepherds who become rulers and sinners who become apostles.

Sometimes it's easy to see leadership. It's some mighty act of prowess or some major proclamation or accomplishment. But lately I've been seeing that leadership can be something very simple. It takes a lot of humility and boldness, yet most of the hard work has already been finished.

When Sodom was about to be destroyed, Abraham did something very bold, even dangerous. He stood between God and the city, asking that if only fifty men, only forty-five men, only thirty men, only twenty men, only ten men be found who were righteous, that God might spare the city. And while Sodom was destroyed because not even ten righteous men could be found, it's amazing to see how God listened to the prayers of Abraham.

After Israel had made the golden calf while Moses was on Sinai, God revealed to Moses that He planned to kill the Israelites. But Moses stood between God and the people, pleading on their behalf. And God relented.

Very shortly afterwards, Moses prayed for God to be with Israel, with him as he led this stubborn people. He wanted to see God's glory, for He couldn't lead the people alone. And God let Moses see His back, not His face, to see where He had been. He had been with them and would continue to be.

I think of the friends of the paralyzed man who tried to vary him to see Jesus.  When they couldn't get through the crowds, they cut a hole in some stranger's roof and lowered him down on a mat. That might not be traditional prayer, but symbolically, they were carrying their needy friend to Jesus. And Jesus didn't just heal him; he first forgave his sins.

And I've been very convicted lately about the need to pray for others, especially for those who don't even know they need prayer, or who don't know they need the One who has made prayer possible.

I have friends who are so lost they probably would laugh at me if they knew I was praying for them. It seems hopeless. It's very discouraging sometimes.

But I think we're called to be bold, to be leaders, to stand between God and those for whom we are praying, pleading on their behalf.

It doesn't always mean they will come to Jesus. And prayer doesn't excuse us from speaking truth in love. But prayer is the first line of defense against satan, not the last, as we sometimes foolishly believe. 

James wrote that the prayers of the righteous avail much. They are effective. And with all that God has done to enable us to come to Him, we should certainly come.

It's not easy, pleading for others, but the hardest work has already been accomplished.

I Am NOT Strong

You sense it.  I sense it.  We all sense it.  It's that pressure from society that tells us we have to be strong.  It's that pressure from society that tells us we have to have it all together, that tells us we have to look our best, be our best, outperform everyone else, and just generally be awesome in every possible way. 

And if society isn't telling us to be strong, then we're telling ourselves that we have to be strong.  We believe we have to be the best parent, the best spouse, the best friend, the best worker, the best whatever, and there is absolutely no room for error. 

And if for some reason we can't be this perfectly strong person, we buckle down and give into depression, despair, and guilt.  We trick ourselves into believing we live in a world made up of people who have it all together, and if we can't have it all together, too, then we're failures.  We either stop trying and succumb to mediocrity--or worse, or we put on a bold face, try harder, and proclaim to the world that we are STRONG.

Sometimes these proclamations don't come in words.  Sometimes we proclaim our strength by putting on our best clothes and make up, trying to look the part that we're playing.  Sometimes we proclaim it by doing things to attract attention.  Sometimes we proclaim it by trying to make others look weaker than us.  Sometimes we proclaim it by attacking anything that threatens our facades of strength, or anything that even suggests that we're not like all those imaginary people who have it all together.

It's not fun being weak.  It means we can't save ourselves.  It means that we have to rely on others--when it often so much more pleasant to be the person upon which others rely.  It means we have to face the ugliness in the mirror as being our own.  It means that we are broken, and it means that we can't do a blasted thing to fix our own brokenness.

When we reach that place of brokenness, it's often easier to pretend it isn't there.  It's often easier to proclaim, however it is we proclaim it, that WE ARE NOT WEAK; WE ARE STRONG.  It's comforting to hear ourselves proclaim this, but after a while, our own voice sounds pretty unconvincing.  There's no truth to it. 

We aren't strong.  We are weak. 

Paul was a pretty awesome guy.  He spoke eloquently; he was a good leader.  He knew what he believed and knew how to speak and write about it.  He was a Law-abiding Jew, one who had studied the Law and upheld it, one who had been through much persecution and prevailed.  Yet, Paul knew that he was weak, and he did not run away from it.

"...there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." 2 Corinthians 12:7-10 (emphasis mine)


I think sometimes we'd like to rewrite what Paul said there.  I think we'd like to say, "...I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me, and immediately He did.  He said to me, "Because you belong to Me, I'm going to give you strength so you can be strong and never have to deal with weakness again."  Therefore, I will boast that I am STRONG, because power rests on me.  That is why, for my own sake, I delight in being strong.  For I. AM. STRONG."

Sounds great...but that's not what Paul said. 

I've been spared from a lot of hardship that other people have had to face, but I've suffered some rejection in my life.  I've been rejected, and that rejection has become part of my identity.  When I look in the mirror, part of what I see is named "Rejected."  It would be comfortable to deny this part of myself, but I won't deny it, and I don't believe Christ denies it. 

"Rejected" isn't the only name I have, nor is it the most important name I have.  The most important name I have is "Beloved Child of God."  When I look in the mirror, that identity overwhelms everything else that I see.  It's just that when God claimed me as His child, He didn't remove the rejection.  He doesn't deny what I've been through or the pain it has caused me.  He hasn't fixed that broken part of me and made it all shiny and new so that everyone who sees me sees something perfect and strong.

See, one of the things that I find the most confusing about God is that He doesn't love us in spite of our weakness.  He just loves us.  He loves us as we are.  He doesn't give us His strength and just banish all the pain of our past, present, and future.  He gives us His strength daily to live for Him within the contexts of our weaknesses.  I can be "Rejected" and "Beloved" all at the same time, just as Paul could be "Weak" and "Strong" at the same time. 

"Rejected" isn't my only name, my only weakness.  I'm far too easily discouraged.  I'm overly sensitive.  I have no tact.  I don't speak well--especially not in situations where I'm uncomfortable.  I have a short fuse.  I get emotional too easily.  I freak out when I don't know what's expected of me or if I don't know how to behave.  I have no gumption.  I use the word awesome too much.  I make poor decisions and let people walk all over me.  I AM WEAK.

God is using me--not in spite of all these things.  He's working through them, using me as I am, using even my weaknesses for His glory.  I have no gumption, and I'm easily discouraged, but I still believe that I'm going to get my writing published someday.  When I do, I won't be able to praise myself for my talent or myself for the process of getting published.  I'm weak, but I serve a God who uses the weak and foolish to shame the strong and wise (1 Corinthians 1:27).  That's my only hope, yet that is a great hope.

I believe that God can and does receive glory through all of the things that He's allowed me to walk through, both the good and the bad.  If I were perfect, if I'd never been hurt, if I was able to do everything right and never mess up, if I just had a holy dose of strength that never allowed me to be exposed to weakness or pain again, then I would think that I have no need for Christ's daily provision.  And I don't think Christ would be glorified in a pious people continually walking in perfect strength.  Rather, I think Christ is more glorified through a group of needy individuals who reach and strive daily for Him and His grace.

I'm not strong.  I am weak.  And I can boast about that, not because there's anything amazing about me--but because my God is amazing.  He redeems my weaknesses and gives me strength in the midst of them. 

I'd like to share a video by a guy named Jason Gray.  Jason Gray is a pretty cool guy, from what I've seen and heard.  He's got so much better guitar skills than I'll ever have, and he's got an amazing voice.  At least, he's got an amazing voice when he sings.  Jason Gray has a speech impediment.  He stutters uncontrollably while he's speaking, but the impediment does not affect his singing at all.  In a world that shuns weakness and embraces strength, it might be easier for Jason Gray to keep the talking to a minimum and just sing.  But he does speak about his stuttering--he stutters about his stuttering.  He proclaims his weakness, boasts in His weakness, knowing that God can use his example to encourage others and to give Himself glory.  And God is using Jason Gray, not because he is strong, but because he's a weak person who can only be strong in Christ. 

...and he has a really awesome purple plaid shirt.  I also have an awesome purple plaid shirt.  I think everyone should have an awesome plaid purple shirt...


So what are your weaknesses?  What are some ways that God has worked through your weaknesses to reveal His perfect power?

Being Intentional

My roommate was watching television, and I sat down to watch it with her.  It was some kind of PBS show, and we both sometimes tend to get a little too excited about PBS shows.  Do you think it's because we're awesome?  I think it's because we're awesome.  Anyway, this commercial came on for some sort of adventure show.  And the tagline was something like, "Adventure--with a purpose!" 

I squinted at the television, as I tend to squint at most things that confuse me, and I said, "Isn't the purpose of adventure simply to have an adventure?" 

My roommate didn't make eye-contact with me.  She wanted to avoid having a conversation with me about Narnia (apparently, she knows me well enough to know that my mind immediately went there).  When I kept looking at her, she admitted, "I saw the third Narnia movie.  I didn't like all the CGI."  And I could tell from her tone that she really didn't want to discuss anything else about it, because I tend to get a little crazy when I talk about Narnia.  But by that time, the fascinating PBS show about whales came back on, and she was saved. 

Saved by the whale.  Couldn't resist that pun.

But I've been thinking about purpose.  Ever since college, I've been hearing the phrase, "Be intentional."  I've never liked that phrase.  It's not that I don't agree with it, in theory, but I don't really see that being my personal style.  The "be intentional" phrase, at least in Southern Baptist circles (and even if I'm a member of a Southern Baptist church, I don't consider myself a Southern Baptist--but that's another story), is almost always used when talking about evangelism--leading people to Christ.  Some people seem to have some sort of second nature that allows them to always know what to say and when and how to say it.  They are able to take any conversation and naturally guide it into a conversation about Spirituality and God.  These are true evangelists. 

I'm not one of them. 

That doesn't let me off the hook about telling people what I believe and why I believe it, all the while wanting them to believe in Jesus, too.  It's just that I am not a natural evangelist.  I am not a natural people-person at all.  I get in moods where I need to be alone.  And for a long time, I thought there was something wrong with that, because honestly, that's what society (even Southern Baptist and Christian society) tells you.  But over the years I'd start to wonder if I was doing something wrong by not being intentional.  Except, I've learned that when I do try to be intentional, when I try to be anything instead of just being, then I'm going to fall on my face and NOT give glory to God.  That's just how it is.

I'm not talking about making an excuse for a lack of preparation.  We should be prepared.  Scripture is clear on that.  But if I go out and try to talk to just some random person about Christ, it's not going to be natural for me.  It's going to be wrong.  Why?  Because in my heart I know that I'm not trying to get to know that person; I'm just trying to evangelize them--get them to Jesus so I can move on.  And that's not right.

There are Christians who are able to meet people where they are and almost effortlessly lead them to Christ--and they do this through love, not through some Spiritual exercise where they feel they have to get another notch in their evangelism belt.  I'm sometimes tempted to be envious of them, except for these people are so genuine in their faith and love for everyone that I can't feel something as hateful as envy towards them.  It would be nice to be more like them, but then I'm reminded that God doesn't make cookie-cutter people.  God made one me.  I'm the way I am for a reason.

I'm more of an encourager than an evangelist.  I like relationships that are built on more than just getting someone to Christ--although, I do know that's the most important thing.  But I'm not the sort of person who can just meet someone and say, "HEY, LET ME TELL YOU ABOUT JESUS!"  I have done that before, and it did go well, but it was a special circumstance (I've been reading the Uglies series--can you tell?).  I was on a mission trip to Thailand, talking to Buddhist monks, and I actually experienced that awesomeness that comes when the Holy Spirit comes upon you, and I was His witness in the uttermost parts of the earth.  But that's the exception for me, not the norm.  The Holy Spirit works different ways in different people, and I'm just not typically that person who gets to strike up a conversation with a complete stranger about anything--especially not something personal.

What I have learned recently is that the Lord is using me in small ways in the lives of some of my non-Christian friends.  And I've found that it's a natural thing for me--not something that seems wrong at all.  Why?  Because I love these friends.  When difficult circumstances arise in their lives, it gives me an opportunity to naturally tell them about Jesus.  It allows me to tell them that I am praying for them, and to encourage them Scripturally--to reinforce that I have hope in my struggles because of Christ.  It's not about evangelism at that point--it's about love.

It's not that I'm against having a purpose or that I'm against being intentional.  I'm just not that person.  There are amazing godly people who are those people.  I'm more of the sort of person who sees the importance of the journey.  Friendships are important whether they're with Christians or nonChristians, and I don't think the main point of those friendships should be just to get them to Christ as soon as possible.  It's not always a copout to say that actions speak louder than words.  Sometimes I'm going to be much more of an effective evangelist by quietly showing who Christ is and who I am in Him, only speaking when it's natural to do so. 

At the same time, I am not comfortable being too comfortable.  So I'm doing a few purposeful things that kind of scare me a little bit.  I've joined a running group with my church--well, it's actually a multi-sport group, but running is one of the main components. The goal of the group is to encourage one another while also trying to build relationships with other runners, in the hopes of sharing Christ.  And even though I'm not a group sort of person or an intentional sort of person, I really just can't ignore the fact that I've just started running fairly recently, right as this group is starting out (Let me pause right here and laugh hysterically at the thought that I, Ruth Campbell, am in a SPORTS MINISTRY.  That's hilarious.  It really is.  God has a great sense of humor).  And last night I went and ran with them.  A lot of it was just me running by myself (which is how I prefer it, and I liked the fact that they let me do that), but I was still part of a group--a group with a purpose in mind. 

So we'll see how things continue to go.  I think I'm ready for some adventure. 

Peace

It's safe to say that 2011 has been an "off year" when it comes to writing.  I've not done much--definitely not all the things I had planned to do.  I know the year isn't quite over yet, but that halfway point of JUNE is mocking me, reminding me of how much of a writing failure I am.

Only, I don't feel like a failure at all.  I probably should.  I haven't really met many of my goals.  I haven't really even tried.  Yesterday (okay, and today too), I spent my free afternoon taking a nap and playing stupid computer games.  I think I might have a slight touch of apathy going on right now.  I hope it passes soon--like by next week, when I have lots of time off that can be used to work on query stuff.

Yeah, but I guess I should be more upset that this year hasn't gone exactly as I had planned back in the last few days of 2010.  The last two or three years of my life, I've noticed that my calendar is a week off from the actual calendar.  My New Year doesn't begin on New Year's Day.  It begins at Christmas.  Christmas is the day on which my entire year revolves. 

For the last few Christmases, my brain has focused on one idea that has to do with the Christmas story--with the story of God coming down to earth in the form of man in order to redeem mankind from death and sin.  Three years ago, I focused on the Star--connecting the stars that God showed Abraham back in Genesis 15 with the Star the Wisemen followed in Matthew 2.  I even wrote a song about it.  Two years ago, I focused on Joy. 

When this past Christmas came, I started thinking early about what idea would stand out.  One word kept standing out to me.  Peace. 

Linus in A Charlie Brown Christmas (my fave Christmas movie) read a passage from Luke 2--"...Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace, good will to men."  A song we sang for the choir Christmas program at church--Casting Crown's version of "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day" with the refrain "Peace on earth.  Peace on earth.  Peace on earth, good will to men." 

I wish I had taken Greek and Hebrew in college instead of going with Spanish (because I can't speak Spanish).  Then I'd be able to have better insight as to what that phrase "peace on earth, good will to men" actually means.  I've read several different translations, which all give the phrase a slightly different meaning.  "Peace on earth to men, on whom His favor rests."  "Peace on earth to those on whom His favor rests."  Does it mean that God offers peace and good will to ALL men?  Does it mean that God offers peace because His favor rests with men?  Does it mean that God offers peace ONLY to those on whom His favor rests?

I wrestled with this for a little while last December.  I came to the conclusion that while the translation and arguments surrounding it might be important at other times and in other circumstances, it didn't really matter to what I was trying to figure out.  The fact is, God did come to earth to offer peace to those who would accept Him.  He created us.  We rebelled against Him.  He came down with us to offer us reconciliation.  The angel came to bring good news.  And it was the best news ever.  I think that's why my whole year revolves around Christmas.  Easter is important too--it's also the best news ever that death couldn't keep Christ in that tomb.  I think the fact that Christ came and the fact that Christ lives are both the best news ever.

The thing is, this whole idea of peace didn't leave me after the Christmas season ended.  And I'm still trying to wrap my feeble human brain around the concept of peace. 

I'm an angry person.  If you haven't noticed this about me, it's not because it's not true.  It's just because you haven't seen it.  The ladies I work with at the drop-in center have seen it.  Lol.  I have a short fuse.  It's not as bad as it used to be, but it still exists.

But I can handle the short fuse a lot better than I can handle the grudges I hold, the bitterness I have let creep into my heart, the irrational senses of unfairness that I feel.  The Lord has been working in my heart since this past Christmas to root out a lot of the anger I didn't even realize I had.  Reminders of past pain and grievances have just popped up at seemingly random times, and I've had to deal with them and/or let them go.  And it's been a long, often difficult process.  And I know He's not done yet.  I'm grateful He loves me enough to work on me...

All of this is to say that sometimes the plans I make for my year, for my month, for my week, for my day--well, all of them can be thwarted quite easily.  I had plans for this to be a major writing year.  The Lord has had plans to work on my heart.  He's showing me that peace, although I can't understand it, is something worth pursuing.  He's showing me that as an imperfect person, I can't hold the imperfections of others against them.  He's showing me how to listen more than I speak.  He's bringing situations into my life that force me to be confrontational, yet He's showing me how to be gentle in the midst of those confrontations.  And I'm learning again that everything that comes into my life is filtered through grace.  God knows things are going to happen to me.  He knew I'd have a couple of financial issues this year (so far).  He knew I'd have to deal with work issues and situations in the lives of friends.  He knows everything that's coming, and He's allowing it--the good and the bad--because everything that comes my way is an opportunity to trust Him and show love to others.
And I have a feeling that peace is found somewhere in the midst of all of that. 

So no, this year hasn't gone exactly as planned.  I could definitely stand to work a little harder, so don't get me wrong.  I'm not using this as a cop-out.  But when it comes down to it, I'm not really that stressed out that things haven't gone as I planned.  God has His own plans.  And I'm hoping that when Christmas rolls around again, I'm closer to peace (and to Him) than I was before.

Fiction Friday: My THIRD Favorite Character of All Time Ever

I love me some Narnia.  Seriously, every single time I go into my closet, I look behind the shirts to see if there's a doorway to a secret world.  Every.  Single.  Time.

And I'm too old to be doing that, but I can't help it.

My third favorite fictional character of all time ever is from the Narnia series, but this character is NOT my favorite character from the Narnia series.  My favorite character from the Narnia series is Aslan, and I don't consider Him to be fictional.  Do I expect to go to heaven one day and bury my face into Aslan's mane?  Not exactly, but it gives me a nice image to keep in mind.  I like the image of Aslan a lot better than some of the other images I've seen/imagined of Jesus/God.  I wish I were beyond needing such images, but I'm not.  I'm pretty sure most people aren't beyond the need for images.

And C. S. Lewis was pretty much amazing with imagery. 

So since I don't think of Aslan as a fictional character, I can't say He's my favorite fictional character of all time ever...or my second or third favorite fictional character of all time ever.  And I have to admit that it's really hard for me to choose a second favorite fictional character from the series, but I can't help but love Lucy.

I love Edmund, too.  As a helpless sinner, I can relate to him better than any other character in the books, although all of the characters besides Aslan were imperfect--even Lucy.  It's just that Edmund was the one depicted as the traitor for which Aslan died.  That hits home.  I perfectly understand Edmund's willingness to betray his own family for just another taste of Turkish delight.  There have been times when I have turned my back on God just because I wanted to do my own thing--and once I had what I thought I wanted, I realized how worthless it was, especially compared to Him, His calling, and His unfailing Love.

But there's just something about Lucy that wins me over.  She's just so wonderfully childlike.  I can just sense that wonderment when she first enters the wintry land of Narnia.  I appreciate her insistence that she really did see Narnia, even when her own family thinks she's just playing make believe.  Even more than that, I admire the amazing childlike love she has for Aslan. 

My favorite book out of the Narnia series is The Voyage of the Dawn Treader.  There are so many amazing things about this book (the movie was all right, but I really think they missed the adventure aspect of the book by trying to write a new plot for it) that I can't begin to even list them (Dragons AND Dufflepuds???!!!  What's not to love?).  My favorite part of the book, however, is near the end, when Lucy and Edmund learn that they must go back to their own world and that they're too old to return to Narnia (so that confirms it, then...I really am too old to keep checking my closet).  And Lucy says something wonderful.  Aslan's reply is even more wonderful.

"It isn't Narnia, you know," sobbed Lucy.  "It's you.  We shan't meet you there.  And how can we live, never meeting you."
"But you shall meet me, dear one," said Aslan.
"Are--are you there too, Sir?" said Edmund.
"I am," said Aslan.  "But there I have another name.  You must learn to know me by that name.  This was the very reason why you were brought to Narnia, that by knowing me here for a little, you may know me better there."

I want that kind of childlike devotion.  I want to be more like Lucy.  She's not perfect; I realize that very well.  She has doubts.  She has insecurities.  She is very human.  But the fact that she is imperfect makes me hopeful that someone human and imperfect like me can be more like her.  I want that childlike faith.  I want that childlike devotion and love for God.

No.  You know what?  What I really want is to have the relationship with God like Lucy had with Aslan.  Maybe I do want to bury my head in His mane and hear His voice tell me that even if I'm not perfect, I'm still dearly, dearly loved.

Chosen

One of the biggest issues I've had with my own writing is not knowing whether or not I want to be identified as a Christian writer.  I am a Christian.  I am a writer.  That doesn't automatically make me a "Christian writer."

When I first started getting serious about writing books, I absolutely knew I did NOT want to be known as a Christian writer.  It's mainly because I've not read a whole lot of good Christian fiction, but also because I really have reservations about writing books that probably only Christians will read.  I've read some decent Christian fiction in the last few months, and I've given some thought to what I want to do.  I haven't come to any solid conclusions...because as you might have gathered, I'm just a TAD bit indecisive.

The thing is, I am starting to think I won't have to make a decision.  I can't seem to help keeping my Christian ideals out of my writing.  Some writers who are Christians don't have a problem with this.  They can keep their writing lives separate from their beliefs, and I can't judge them at all for it.  In fact, I'm a little jealous.  It must be nice to just be able to separate writing from life like that.  I'm not able to do it...and I know I'd be doing something detrimental to my writing if I tried. 

I am not one of those Christians who can tell you the exact day I became a Christian.  I can't tell you exactly how old I was.  I can't tell even really talk about what my life was like before Christ, because as long as I remember, the Lord has been pursuing me.  I do know that I originally wanted to be a Christian because I was afraid of hell.  That's a pretty lame reason, but God used that to eventually build a strong faith that isn't just a part of my life.  It is my life.  That's not to say I'm perfect or always make decisions based on what I think God wants me to do.  I fail.  I fail a LOT.  But I can't deny His constant presence guiding everything in my life--including my writing.

I'm not a "five point Calvinist."  I'm not sold on this predestination stuff.  But as far as I'm concerned, I think He's chosen me.  I know the Lord has wanted me since childhood.  It's not because I'm good or worthy.  In fact, the Lord knows better than I do that I'm a weak, foolish, cowardly sinner who's only able to do anything good because of the goodness He's done in me.  I'm not all that useful, but He wants to use me anyway.  I don't know why.  I don't know why He has chased me so hard or given me so much, but I know that because He has, much is expected of me. 

That's not why I think that I'm going to end up being a Christian writer.  I'm not trying to give something back.  I'm not trying to be anything.  I just am what I am.  And I think what I am is...a Christian writer.

Sometimes, I have to make a choice.  Sometimes, it chooses me.  I think I'm going to end up being a Christian writer because I don't really have the choice to be anything else.  I think every time I put pen to paper, something "me-breathed" is going to come out.  And because God is so present in my life, that "me-breathed" stuff is going to be a reflection of God's breath.

I just pray they're not all poor reflections.