Dishrag

I'm a damp dishrag. I find myself draped over the furniture, warming in the light of the morning after last night. Last night. My edges are curling and darkened as I try to collect my fire-ant feelings. I feel there are so many they blur to a swelling, swirling mass with no discernible border. Sadness, perhaps... anger? Not now. My anger is an aerosol can in a campfire. I'm sure I will confront it when I'm 30 and my toddler drops a dish.
Empty. Hollow. Shockingly devoid. A cave so dark you can not see your hand before your face, even when it's so close you can feel the heat of it. And him... I think of him and he's gone from the real to the abstract. I realize I can't think of him as a person right now, or else I risk thinking of myself as a person as well. Only a person can be hurt. Objects are safe, they can be broken but never hurt.
Soggy and limp and used, I watch the hands of the clock spin and spin like a record playing a stupid, too-long song about finding love. And I, I lie in my own damp chill and wait and wait and wait. Why hope for clean? For now I'll just settle for dry.

Totally Depraved

I've always believed in the inherent goodness of man.
That is, until I looked a little further into the controvery of the Augustinian stance of Total Depravity vs. the Pelagian views of Inherent Goodness. In reading 'What is Reformed Theology' by R.C. Sproul, he explores the two, and makes a compelling argument for Depravity that I can't help but agree with... It resonates with my own perceptions of the condition of the wild beast that is Man's heart.
The monk Pelagius held tight to a Humanist view of free will; that God gave man free will and power to do good or bad, and the Law was given to discern between the two. He believed that people were inherently good, but strayed towards evil post-Fall. St. Augustine argued that scripture indicates that post-Fall, the human heart is entirely incapable of doing "good" (from a godly standpoint) and the Law was only given to make us realize the extent of our own sinfulness and the unattainable nature of righteousness. Pelagius stated that God would not demand perfection without giving us the means to attain it. Augustine stated that God demanded perfection so that we would relent our hope in self, knowing fully that our only hope is truly in Christ. Our own totally depraved state enhances appreciation for grace.

*Sproul makes a distinction I think is important to note, between utter depravity (being as wicked as possible) and total depravity (every aspect of being is in some way tainted).

Scripture, as well as real-life observations, would support the human condition of total depravity. Sproul addresses arguments about free will, saying that though man's will is free it is wholly bent towards disobedience and even enmity towards God. We may in fact do things that appear "good" from a human standpoint, but will always be colored by self-preservation, desire for praise, self-promotion, etc.
Romans 3:12 gives a blanket statement covering all of humanity, which may be taken literally or as a superlative. "No one does good, no not one."
Romans 7:7-25 supports that the Law is given to show us our sinfulness... and is followed by a context of grace and despair in our own power to fulfill the commands of a perfect Deity. For if we had it in our power to fulfill the Law, there would have been no reason for Jesus' sacrifice. For He said, "I have not come to abolish the law, but to fulfill it."
There's something sort of freeing in relenting my belief that I could strive for righteousness. All the trying and failing always led to shame and frustration, pulling me farther from God. But depending on Jesus to be my righteousness and my daily bread pulled me closer, grateful and unashamed. The gratitude increased my love, and here's the kicker... my love increased my desire to be obedient. The system works, and though I believe Pelagius had a genuine walk with God I have to side with Augustine and Paul when I say, "Christ came to the world to save sinners... among whom I am the worst."

Naked and Unashamed

My favorite part of the Genesis description of life in the garden was the phrase noted several times, "they were naked and not ashamed." I've read a couple studies on Genesis and my favorite one emphasized this point: that Adam and Eve were in such close communion with God, their sense of security and self-assurance was so perfectly intact, that they did not even realize their own nakedness.

I've found this beautiful concept coloring my alone time with God in a new way. I used to dislike my devotional time, seeing it as a chore and an obligation. Now I see it as time to be transparent and naked in the most freeing way. Going about daily life, we all hold our cards close to our chests. There is some vestige of a blockade 'round our hearts, even around closest friends and family. Fear of social pressures, fear of rejection, fear of saying/doing the wrong thing are nearly constant. Pressure to look our best and behave comes from every angle. Time alone with my Savior means I can finally drop every form of self protection and step into the blessed state of being fully known and fully loved. Naked. Naked, and unashamed. I run my fingers over Words from a living Savior and the weight lifts. I breathe a sigh of relief and feel breathe and sun on my skin, fresh like a newborn.

What a relief.

Ezer Kenegdo, the sustainer beside him

Once I was in a hot tub with a group of girls from a church I visited about two years ago. We were discussing relationships and what we desired for our future marriages. One of the girls to my right tossed her damp ponytail and chirped, "I feel like all we women really ever wanted was a strong man to be a cheerleader for!" All heads 'round the circle nodded curtly in agreement as I swallowed hard against the bile I could taste in my throat. Was I broken? Am I built wrong that I wanted to have my own adventure, rather than tagging along someone else's?

My mother, bless her heart, taught me to be a strong woman. My father, bless his heart, taught me to be a strong man. She taught me to not be lazy, to go after what I want, to love big and never stop pursuing the heart of God. My father taught me to shoot, fight, camp, survive a zombie apocalypse, plan ahead and never compromise my values. Being a strong woman is my burden and my blessing. The biblical role of a woman is something I've rebelled against my whole life. Independence and selfishness steered me towards dating men who allowed me to be the leader, and I thoroughly enjoyed the sense of power and control. But despite feeding into my sin nature in a satisfying way, I could feel how poor a fit it was. But the curse of being a strong woman is that I know that for a relationship to work, he must be an even stronger man. Yikes. I found it impossible to allow the men in my life to lead me, but I realized it wasn't because I was broken... but it was because I hadn't found the right man! I started asking myself some difficult questions regarding my dating life.

-Do I see active growth in his life, and a passionate pursuit of God?
-Do I trust him, both in day-to-day life and in matters of the Spirit?
-Can I respect this person, even when we don't agree?
-Am I guarding my heart?
-Am I in a good place spiritually to be lead, to encourage, and to uplift?
-Are we both surrounded by godly, intimate community able to speak truth into the relationship?
-Does he have a good character to endure in tough times? Do I?
-Is he strong enough in character and faith to lead me when I stumble?
-Is he considerate and gentle with me?

It's quite a laundry list, I know... But I believe in God's design for relationships. I believe it because I've done the opposite for years and it is such a poor substitute. *Sigh* This is going to be another one of those half-baked posts to process through some thoughts, forgive me. I'll do another when my brain isn't so scattered. Goodnight!

Walking in Faith

Walking in faith. I never understood it fully until a youth pastor gave an analogy I remember to this day. "You see this chair?" he said while gesturing to an old metal folding chair. "Belief is saying that this chair will hold you if you sit on it. You can know and say with confidence that if you put your weight on it, it won't buckle and send you crashing to the floor. Faith is belief in action. Faith happens when you sit in the chair." There are several passages about faith, with the mustard seed, mountains moving, and all that goodness... but what comes of it when the rubber meets the road? I have been called to sit in my own proverbial chair. I prayed about the chair, consulted my beloved brothers and sisters about the chair. I thought back to previous times when I was called to sit and didn't, followed by intense regret. Would the chair hurt? Would it feel peaceful? Would it lead to some sort of spiritual enlightenment? No answers; only "sit." I have told the Lord I would do what He asked because He knows the plans He has for me. They are plans to prosper me, to give me a hope and a future. Yet doubt rages. I would much prefer for Him to deliver the reasons, and let me in on the big picture. Then, I would gladly sit. I would gladly obey. But that's not faith. Faith is acting when we don't know why, walking when we can't see, and traversing straight down a path where the only visible step is the one we are currently standing on. Proverbs 20:24 says, "The Lord directs our steps, so why try to understand everything along the way." Touché. James 1:3 reminds me that the test of faith grows perseverance and it does feel like just that: a test. I will admit, it doesn't feel good. It feels awful, actually. But I have to believe that the purpose of my act of obedience is for the furthering of His plan. So without further ado, I think I'll pull up a chair and make myself a little uncomfortable. Hebrews 11:1 "Now Faith is being sure of what we hope for, and certain of what we do not see."

The best kinds of problems

Everyone has problems. Lately I've been blessed with the very best kinds of problems, which are those that result from the deepening of friendships and relationships in my community. After a very long and lonely season (one I am grateful for, mind you) I was blessed with some very specific bonds I'd been praying for. I've had acquaintances and fellowship but very few deep, few super substantial that challenged me at my core. (I will exclude a few, you glorious dears know who you are) But now I find myself in challenging situations. I am subject to new pressures to increase my committment to church via volunteering and community group involvement. I now have friends who have graciously allowed me to see into their imperfections, and speak both love and guidance into them. And I allow my vulnerabilities, previously guarded like a national treasure, to poke their heads out and sniff the hands of those in my inner circle. It's scary and extremely sanctifying, and it is oh, so good. I find myself frustrated, tested, and burdened at times. It is uncomfortable to be known, for fear of being known and unaccepted. But it is right and it is good. For the first time, my most sincere prayer is for wisdom. Not for my own benefit, but for theirs. When do I offer grace, tough love, consolation, or honesty? What offenses do I address, and which do I ignore? When should I hold tighter than ever, and when do I walk away for the good of myself and the other? Like Solomon, I cling tightly to the knowledge that godly wisdom is the source of all riches. And I find myself filthy rich with the best kinds of problems.

Toddlers and tiaras

The hardest and most confusing part of young adulthood for me is the progression of developmental milestones. Childhood is so predictable that there are textbooks delineating each step and it's cause for concern if each milestone isn't met in the expected time frame. But when first words and potty training are behind us, where are we left? When should I expect to be mature enough to master coping mechanisms when I am handed disappointments and frustrations of life? When should I be prepared emotionally and financially to start a life with someone in the bonds of marriage? I never realized these milestones existed until I noticed a pattern among my acquaintances. The posts about smart financing and photos from weddings and baby announcements from people I consider peers came pouring in. Am I developmentally delayed? I feel this ache echoed in various people around me lately. My female friends who share my single status lament their bare left ring fingers. My childless married friends feel inadequate and self-conscious. The pressure to equate value of self with a husband, child, 401K, etc is overwhelming for us "delayed" 20-somethings. It's whispered by every ad and hinted by family members and friends. "This is where you should be in life and if you are not, there is likely something wrong with you." But I exhort myself and those like me, I implore... we are no less beloved, valuable, cherished by the Most High because we are the last of our friends to marry or the least financially stable. Our worth is not tied up in these things, and our story does not always match that of our peers. The Psalms tell us "Take delight in the Lord and He will give you the desires of your heart." In Jeremiah I find a comforting reminder, "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the LORD, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" His timing is perfect, and His plan will be sanctifying. Perhaps the sanctification includes a few years of growing pains and some unanswered questions. But I have trusted Him thus far with much grace, and I try to remind myself that as long as I dedicate my steps to His plan He will not steer me wrong. Even if I feel I may have taken a few wrong turns... It's all about the journey.