Welcome, fellow travelers!

Life’s a journey, right?

At least, that’s what I’ve always been told. It’s a race, it’s an uphill climb–above all things, it’s a struggle, right? Only the most innocent or optimistic person would ever argue otherwise. Life is hard. But it is, nonetheless, a beautiful gift. And it is one which I am called to defend.

It’s not the easiest thing to be different, especially when what makes you different is your compassion. It’s one thing to be the only Star Wars fan in a crowd of Trekkies; it’s quite another to be the only one speaking out against injustice. It is a lonely road, and it is one that I know pretty well. See, most people have this habit of being turned off by uncomfortable and inconvenient truths, and some of us have this habit of being the ones to speak them. And it’s not fun to deal with the ostracism and outright hatred that generally results when you try to make people see things they’d rather overlook.

Unfortunately, I have no easy answers for this, unless you want to get out of the business of caring about other humans and their problems. In that case, you are probably reading the wrong blog, because I am not planning on making anyone feel better about not doing anything. We live in a world that values ease and comfort over virtue and integrity, and I aim to make whatever small dent in that particular aspect of our society that I can. So, here’s your call to action: either commit to loving sinners, fighting sin, and ending injustice, or quit now and stop pretending that you care about anyone beyond yourself. It’s only going to get harder from here on out, and while we can work together as broken and imperfect people to make this a better world, there is no room for falsehood or fence-sitting here. If we can all strive for honesty and compassion and work from a place of humility, then things will start to change.

We can all be warriors for life, love, and beauty in the name of Christ, if we choose to answer the call. It’s not an exclusive calling for a specific kind of Christian who happens to be really charismatic and good at communicating and the most holiest person ever. We’re not looking for The Proverbs 31 Woman here. Throughout history, God has had the most unlikely champions–an adulterer, a mass murderer, and a prostitute, to name a few–and none of them would ever have guessed that they would be remembered years later as warriors for the Kingdom of God. So if you think it’s impossible that you’d be called to become one of these sinful saints, you’d be wrong.

I’m not saying you’re a screw-up. I’m just saying that all of us (me included) could be doing more to bring the Kingdom of Heaven to Earth than we are now. And if we step out in faith and offer our time and energy and hearts to God, He just might actually do something with us.

Expect some nerdiness, some sarcasm, some bad puns, some facts about human fetal development, some theology, and above all, my best efforts at plain, messy, sometimes brutal honesty about this world and the Creator who wants to redeem it.

On Military Action in Syria

Hey, y’all. I know it’s been a very long time since I’ve posted on my blog, but I would like to start doing so again, hopefully with some regularity. The conflict in Syria has been in the news a lot recently, and I’d like to share some of my thoughts on President Trump’s authorization of drone strikes last night:

 

Based on everyone’s Facebook posts and comments on the internet, I’m guessing I’m in the minority, but I do, in fact, support the military action taken against Syria. Here are my reasons:

1) Muslim children/Arab children/children of Muslims are just as valuable as any other children. The comments I’m seeing about how “Muslims are just doing what they’ve done in the Middle East for centuries and killing each other” are absolutely un-Christian and despicable. It is one thing to recognize and speak about the depravity of humanity, and another to shrug our shoulders at it while defenseless innocents die.

2) The U.S. is not perfect, but we DO make a concerted effort to avoid killing civilians. There are civilian casualties in any war, but our military tries very hard to avoid those as much as possible, especially when the civilians involved are children. Contrast that with Assad, who has repeatedly shown a complete lack of regard for human life and dignity, and lots of other regimes and groups we’ve fought against – we kill children accidentally, while they intentionally target them. There is a world of difference there, and to conflate intentional targeting of civilians with accidental civilian casualties that are collateral damage is disingenuous.

3) From all the reports I have read, the U.S. went about this in the best possible way. We did not target civilians, we targeted a government-owned airfield, and we warned Russia beforehand. In addition, we did it at night, so there were only six casualties, and presumably none of those were civilians (and if they were, it wasn’t because we were targeting sick people and children in hospitals or schools or bombing a village). We have not attacked Assad’s regime, we have warned him to stop massacring his own people, and if he does not, then he will reap the consequences.

4) As a world power, the U.S. has the duty and responsibility to use its powers and authority for good. Ours is not a Christian nation, but because most of the posts I’m seeing are about how God doesn’t like war and He wants us to prioritize America, that’s what I’m going to address – Jesus made it very clear that inaction in the face of evil and tragedy is the same as siding with the oppressor. He told us that what we do unto the least of these little ones, we do unto Him also. That means that when we leave Syrian civilians, including children, to die at the hands of an oppressive regime that flouts international law in its use of chemical weapons and refuse to intervene, it is the same as abandoning Jesus Himself to that same fate. The strongest reasons I have seen for staying out of the Syrian conflict revolve around how “it’s not in America’s best interest to get involved”. But, fellow Christians? We are *not* here to do what is in our best interest. It is our obligation to do what is right, not what is easy. Our calling is a calling to sacrifice, even to the point of laying our lives down for others’.

5) We do not need Congressional approval yet because this was not an act of war. It doesn’t have to escalate to war. Assad could decide to stop being a coward and hiding behind Russia and stop killing his own civilians, since he has had more than enough chances (remember Obama’s “red line” in 2013?). When we need a declaration of war, it should absolutely be brought before Congress, but not all military action is war.

6) Trump is not perfect. I won’t even call him good (as a man; still reserving judgment on his presidency). But the people who wanted Obama to enforce his red line in 2013 and are now insisting that Trump is basically Hitler for infringing on the sovereignty of another state and not going through Congress first are hypocrites if they think it’s okay for them to change their minds on Syria in four years, but it wasn’t okay for Trump to change his.

7) I understand that there is a possibility that the gas attack was staged and Assad was not behind it. If that is the case, then Assad should feel very motivated right now to find some proof that he didn’t order it himself. It seems very likely, though, that it was him, and if this was all a misunderstanding and a mistake, it was made with the best intentions and with very few repercussions. Our government is made up of fallible human beings, and they do not always make the right decisions. This one, though possibly wrong (as all decisions made by public officials can turn out to be wrong due to misinformation), was an attempt to right a grievous evil that has been done to the innocent people in Syria. If Assad didn’t do it, he should cooperate with the U.S. to find the actual perpetrators and clear his name, and if he did, then we did the right thing. Either way, this was a productive action.

I don’t have all the information, because I’m only a civilian college student who’s read a bunch of news articles. In addition to that, I am sometimes wrong about things, although I try to be consistent in my application of Christian doctrine and conservative philosophy. I’d like to see a little more fairness in the way people are treating this online, though, rather than short, nasty posts about how everyone who disagrees with you is a hypocrite and hates America and/or Syrian children. It’s unproductive and childish, and ultimately, it does nothing to advance the cause of justice. This is a complicated issue with a lot of different angles, and it deserves to be treated more thoughtfully, rather than inspiring only knee-jerk emotional reactions.
I’ll end with one of my favorite quotes by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, one of my personal heroes, because I think it is absolutely pertinent:

 

You Can Eat This Post For Second Breakfast

I am utterly exhausted.

I don’t mean that I didn’t get enough sleep last night (although I almost did, maybe, if we’re counting hours and not restfulness), or that I’ve had a lot of homework recently, or that I’ve been dealing with too much stupidity lately (although I’ve been on the internet, which is kinda like Dollar Tree–there are some really excellent things in there, but it’s mostly worthless crap). I mean my mind, body, and soul are depleted and I don’t even have the energy to cry. Heck, I don’t even have the energy to sleep in decent uninterrupted stretches. I’m unnecessarily achy all over, I feel feverish (despite not having a fever, because I checked with a thermometer), I can’t seem to concentrate on anything and I’ve been very rambly (for which I apologize in advance), and I find myself relating more and more to Bilbo Baggins:

“…I feel all thin, sort of stretched, if you know what I mean: like butter scraped over too much bread. That can’t be right. I need a change, or something.”

Speaking of the Lord of the Rings, the whole story has taken on a whole new meaning for me as I’ve been rereading it this semester. (For anyone who knows me, that’s a sign of my malaise right there–it’s taking me ages to get through a relatively short trilogy that I finished in a weekend the last time I read through it.) To be honest, it’s almost a religious experience, and in some indefinable sort of way, I feel the presence of God as I read. Of course, it’s not the same as reading the Bible, but I do believe He’s been speaking to me through it. For one thing, as I’ve struggled socially in this less-than-friendly (I always feel tempted to say Godforsaken, but He obviously hasn’t, since He’s clearly been doing stuff here) environment this year, I’ve been praying and waiting for a Samwise to my Frodo (because in this phase in my life, I’m definitely Frodo, who is weak and tiny and all-but useless, but hellbent (Mordorbent?) on doing the thing he was sent out of the Shire to do even if it kills him). And, while she doesn’t have hairy feet or an enormous appetite, I do have a friend who let me soak her lap with my tears and stroked my back when I broke down last week, and told me she wished she could carry my burdens for me, but since she couldn’t, she’d do her best to help me through it. (Sound familiar? If it does, you’re probably tearing up thinking about one of the best scenes in RotK.) I realized then (because I have epiphanies about super obvious things on a fairly regular basis) that He had answered my prayer long before I noticed, and that was the little nudge I needed to see it.

2016 has, so far, been thoroughly draining, and not a single one of my friends at school or elsewhere has escaped totally unscathed. There is very clear evidence of spiritual attack, and it is overwhelming and frustrating and several times, I have been very, very tempted to give up and probably would have if I had any idea how. I’m not saying any of this to gain sympathy or to make excuses for my recent behavior, but I am struggling, and I want that to be understood. I am not immune to hardship, and I do not have my life all figured out. Most of the time, I’m making plans and making mistakes as I go, just like everyone else. I don’t want anyone to think that I am a good Christian girl who’s got it all together, because that’s completely untrue. And I have been putting off this blog post for a long time because I didn’t know how to be honest without being discouraging.

Truth is, though: life sucks, and then you die.

But here’s the thing– that isn’t the whole truth. It’s just part of it. The rest of it is that death isn’t the end. For those of us who have been claimed as children of God, it’s a new beginning, and there is eternal joy, peace, and love on the other side in our Father’s arms. No matter how painful or difficult things are on this side, we have a hope that no one can ever steal from us. It can be shared, or it can be relinquished to the Enemy, but it belongs to us, and it is our choice what we do with it. It is my choice whether I live in defeat or rejoicing in the victory that has already been won over death and hell. My health, my status, and my loved ones can all be taken from me, but my hope cannot, unless I choose to give it up. And I believe too strongly in my Father’s love for me to ever relinquish that. He has promised me that someday, everything will be made right, and no matter what darkness lies ahead, He is with me.

³⁵ Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? ³⁶ As it is written:

“For your sake we face death all day long;
    we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.”

³⁷ No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. ³⁸ For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, ³⁹ neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Romans 8:35-39

And right now, that’s all I really, truly need.

 

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(This may end up being the beginning of a series, or it might just be a standalone confession to being human and broken. Either way, thank you for reading this far despite my numerous asides and lack of real organization. And feel free to comment with any responses/prayer requests/other thoughts. (: )

 

 

I’m not God, and that’s a really good thing.

Do you ever feel the weight of everything on your shoulders? The burden of the world is all yours, and it hurts to breathe, knowing that there are people hurting and suffering and dying. It seems like Satan’s winning some days, and you’re worn down and you’re feeling everything so acutely that you wish there was some sort of over-the-counter pain relief for an aching and battered soul.

I know that feeling really well. I also know where that feeling comes from: exhaustion. It’s God’s way of pulling me back to rest in Him, because I’m using all of my energy to try to be God. I’m back to being the little six-year-old Maya who insists on trying to push the wheelbarrow full of firewood up the hill to the front porch when my daddy has already told me I’m too weak to do it. I know I’m too small, and yet I insist upon trying because through sheer obstinacy and willpower, I know I can do it this time. This time will be different… except that it never is.

You would think I would have learned my lesson by now. But I have one of the most human of all traits: I’m incredibly obstinate. I have always wanted to be independent and do things my own way, even if it was inefficient and foolish (ask my parents or one of my teachers–I was not the easiest child to teach, let alone to raise). See, I’m smart, and I’ve always known that I’m pretty bright, and somehow I keep forgetting that being intelligent still doesn’t make me as capable of running the world as its Creator is. So I try to control absolutely everything, because if I don’t, who will? Probably someone inept who will botch the whole thing (because I never screw things up). And I spend so much of my time trying to fix other people’s lives and stop them from doing bad stuff to each other that I wear myself out.

Guess what? I was not made to be perfect, to always make good decisions, to know the solution to every problem, or to fix broken people. I myself am a recovering broken person, and I will not be made completely whole again until I leave this world. How am I supposed to fix other people’s problems when I can’t even fix my own?

Like basically everything that plagues humanity, there’s actually a Bible story about this. In Matthew 7, Jesus talks about a man who has a plank in his eye, but is more worried about the speck in his friend’s eye. The story is about hypocrisy, and that’s usually what we associate it with, but I want you to consider something for a moment. What if the guy with the 2×4 in his eye isn’t ignoring it so he can be accusatory and holier-than-thou and judgey and nitpick at his friend? What if he just wants to stop the thing that is making his friend cry? If you’ve ever gotten a speck of something in your eye (and nearly everyone has at some point), you know how much it hurts. What if the plank guy really just wants to help, so he ignores his own problems because he convinces himself they don’t matter as much?

That’s an interpretation I can definitely relate to. See, there are a lot of hypocrites in this world (about 7 billion, last time I checked), and I don’t believe most of them try to be that way. Many of them probably don’t realize they’re doing it at all, because it’s human nature. So, the next time someone throws the label “hypocrite” at you because you happen to have standards, remember that they’re basically just calling you a human being. I’m a hypocrite, you’re a hypocrite, everybody’s a hypocrite (except Jesus, but you knew that already). It’s not like I wake up in the morning and I think to myself, “What unreasonable standards can I enforce on other people and ignore myself today?” I just really want to help people, and a lot of the time that means swallowing my own issues down so they can reside in my digestive system and punish me later, and taking matters into my own hands because I mean, really, if someone else was going to fix it, they would have already!

It stems from benevolent motives, but this seemingly benign form of hypocrisy is not without its victims. It eats at the hypocrite slowly, undermining their effectiveness by draining them of energy until they wake up one day and realize they’re tired and lost, and the God who could fix it all seems awfully far away. And then, despite the flashing neon signs and sky-writing and billboards that say “God can do this”, they continue trying to do better on their own until they’re too weak and exhausted to do more than tell God that they’re weak and exhausted. They wonder what could possibly be wrong with them, because aren’t they supposed to be spending their lives helping other people and carrying their burdens and sorrows? How is it killing them inside when it should bring joy and contentment and peace?

Then God looks at his silly, wayward child and asks, “What took you so long? I’ve been here this whole time, and you never asked for My help, or when you did, it was half-hearted and you snatched it right back.”

And His child sheepishly replies, “I forgot You were bigger than me.”

That, my friends, is something I do over and over and over. And yes, I’m writing this post from my Father’s lap, where I finally decided tonight to take refuge from all the burdens I’d been trying to push uphill in my wheelbarrow. It feels really good to be held and to know that my Daddy still loves my foolish, stubborn, hypocritical self, even if He does think I’m silly.

So Apparently I’m in Spiritual Exile

This weekend, I found out that I’m staying in Babylon.

If you know me or you’ve been following this blog at all, you’re probably aware that college has been a fairly miserable experience for me so far. I’ve been lonely, frustrated, and overwhelmed in an environment that is remarkably hostile to my existence as a person of faith. This was my last choice school, and God kind of dragged me here kicking and screaming in the first place, so I didn’t have particularly high expectations when I came here, but the few hopes I did have for my first year in “real college” have been thoroughly disappointed. The only thing that seems to be going well is that I’m doing well in most of my classes (I was apparently not created to be a gifted printmaker, or at least my grade in the class says so).

To be honest, I didn’t want to be here before I came, and I still want to get out. The thing is, God doesn’t abide by my desires all the time (or even most of the time). After talking with my mother and a few other people I trust, I was seriously considering transferring to Sweet Briar. The grass looks an awful lot greener over there, to be sure– the students are happier, the campus isn’t on the side of a mountain (which is not much fun in general, but is even less so in the rain– I’m slightly terrified of what it’s going to be like when it snows), it’s closer to home, and from what I’ve seen myself and heard from other people, they don’t hate Christians as much over there. It was my second choice school, and if I had been slightly less irrational and based my school rankings on something other than my desire to be near my boyfriend, who is awesome and wonderful and my very dearest friend, but still shouldn’t have been the reason for me to want to go to W&M, it would definitely have been my top choice. It’s a beautiful place and inspires the hopeful romantic in me who loves fairy tales and had this ridiculous idea that a women’s college would be something sort of like a giant princess school where the students all wear pearls and heels and look adorable all the time, but are also brilliant and fierce and a force to be reckoned with when the people and things they love are threatened. (Don’t worry, I have long since been disabused of that notion. There may be some women’s colleges that ARE like that, but mine sure as heck isn’t.)

In truth, I think I would be happier there than I am here. But, in the grand scheme of things, my happiness really isn’t all that important. I mean, I want to be happy, but I need to be holy far more than I need to be happy. For a little while, though, I have been holding on to the hope that maybe God would relent and allow me to have a relatively easy time in college and make friends easily and become involved in the social scene and be what a college student is “supposed” to be– happy and free-spirited and enjoying life as it comes, preferably at another college far away from here. As I knew all along, that was not in His plan for me, but I let myself think it could be because I felt like otherwise, I would be giving up on any chance of being anything but miserable for the next three years.

I’m sure you can see why that was foolish of me. First of all, pessimism is not healthy. It might protect me somewhat from disappointment, but it also shields me from the possibility of fully enjoying anything. Second, things never turn out well when we try to thwart the plans of a sovereign God. Jonah got off fairly easy compared to some, and I seriously doubt that he’d list being swallowed and then vomited up by a whale/giant fish as one of his favorite memories because, to put it mildly, that’s thoroughly disgusting and unpleasant. Arguing with Him never got anyone what they wanted either, or if it did, they ended up worse off for it.

Let’s skip forward from my stubbornness so far this semester to this past Saturday. I spent the weekend with six other girls from BCM (that’s the campus ministry in which we’ve collected most of Mary Baldwin’s twelve Christians) and other college students and young adults from all over the state for a weekend retreat. The theme was “Renovate”, and we spent this weekend learning about how the Divine Potter works with His clay people to build them into something both beautiful and useful. On Saturday morning, the speaker was preaching from Jeremiah 29. The section that he focused on in particular was this:

⁴ This is what the Lord of Hosts, the God of Israel, says to all the exiles I deported from Jerusalem to Babylon: ⁵ “Build houses and live in them. Plant gardens and eat their produce. ⁶ Take wives and have sons and daughters. Take wives for your sons and give your daughters to men in marriage so that they may bear sons and daughters. Multiply there; do not decrease. ⁷ Seek the welfare of the city I have deported you to. Pray to the Lord on its behalf, for when it has prosperity, you will prosper.”

Are you starting to see my problem yet? See, everyone thinks of Jeremiah 29:11 when someone mentions this book or chapter, but it’s not all warm and fuzzy and great for senior yearbook quotes. For context, the Israelites have just been sent into exile in Babylon, and a false prophet named Hananiah has been telling them that God will restore them to their homes and give them back all their possessions within two years. God sends Jeremiah to tell everyone that Hananiah is lying, and then Hananiah dies for deceiving the people of Israel. In chapter 29, Jeremiah has written a letter on God’s behalf telling the Israelites that their exile will last 70 years before He rescues them.

It was after this story that I was suddenly filled with the “oh, crap” feeling that often accompanies direction from God. See, in our relationship, He likes to tell me things I really don’t like, and then I get angry with Him for being right because I can’t stand to be wrong, and eventually I have to swallow my pride and admit that I don’t know better than the God of the Universe, which is not very much fun. He definitely loves me, and I do not doubt that for a second, but I kind of feel like I’m the child He picks on as a way of showing affection, like how my parents poke fun at me for being clumsy, because my inability to walk without tripping or stubbing my toe is comical and, I suspect, slightly endearing, even if it’s a fault of mine. I imagine Him looking down at me and saying, “Silly girl!” with a chuckle when He sees the absurd mess I make of things when I try to do them my own way. He is also never subtle with me– I knew which college I was supposed to attend because I didn’t get into #1, #2 was going to close (until it didn’t), and #3 set off my “demonic influence” radar, which I took as a very clear “oh, HELL, no!” from God (literally). So this painfully obvious instruction is really quite typical of our relationship.

I was unsure whether to laugh or cry at this point, because I was both extremely frustrated and unreasonably amused, so I continued to listen to the rest of the sermon with a wry smile on my face. Okay, God, You win. The service ended, and we headed out to our breakout sessions, where I found Ben, who had been sitting across the auditorium from me.

I started to talk about what God had just told me, but he already knew. “Yeah, I was thinking about you during the sermon.” This, of course, meant that there was absolutely no possible way that I could pretend it hadn’t happened, because this time, He had spoken to me with witnesses. Thanks, God.

So, here I am in my Babylon again, sitting at my desk as I write this, and still not sure whether to laugh or cry. Now, at least, I know that I must throw myself wholeheartedly into my mission field, praying for its prosperity, and building my life here for the next few years. I can no longer pretend that this is a temporary situation from which I may escape at any time if things get too uncomfortable. This is where I have been placed, and my mission is to bring the light of the Gospel to Mary Baldwin, which will undoubtedly fight every attempt to expel the darkness that currently reigns over it. After this weekend, though, I know that I am not alone. I have sisters here with the same calling, and after this weekend, we are all on the same page.

I guess, now that I think about it, maybe Mary Baldwin did come out of a fairy tale, and we just haven’t gotten to the happily ever after part yet.

First, there are battles to be won.

Being a Mermaid is Hard

Ms. Nin and I would certainly disagree on a lot of things, but I do love this quote. It’s next to impossible to find the origin of this particular picture, though, because sometimes that happens on the internet (I blame Pinterest). If I am able to track it down later, I will edit the source attribution.

I am not very good at being social.

After a little over eighteen years on this planet, with lots of attempts at making friends, most of which have fallen flat, and plenty more successes at pissing other people off, this is the conclusion I have come to. I am more than a little socially awkward, and I have virtually no ability to make small talk. Within five minutes of someone talking to me, we are either discussing politics, religion, abortion and other crimes against humanity, or someone’s digestive system (often mine), and quite possibly more than one of those things. If not, then I am trying painfully hard to impress them with my witty repartee or knowledge of random trivia.

Basically, I am an introvert who gets really, really lonely sometimes, either because of or in addition to needing to connect on a very deep level with other humans. I am not capable of being a shallow person or having anything less than ALL the feelings, and that makes people uncomfortable, which makes them want to avoid me. And when they avoid me, I try harder to impress them, and push them farther away. It sucks, and I don’t really know why I’m this way, but I hate feeling so different. I don’t know how much of it is a mere personality trait and how much is the result of living a life of faith, which I think requires a certain amount of depth that secular living does not, but it seems like it’s awfully hard to find other people who are like me in this. Maybe that’s because they’re better at disguising it than I am, but no matter the reason, it’s a struggle for me.

I told you when I started this blog that I want to be honest, and to be honest, I know that one of my greatest flaws is my need to be cared about by other people. Frankly, it hurts me less to be outright hated (which I expect to a certain degree) than to be treated as if I don’t matter. Hatred, at least, is something that galvanizes me. Apathy, though, just hurts. And as someone who has a really hard time making friends, I struggle a lot more with wanting to be noticed and cared about (even if it’s a strongly negative response) than I do with feeling disliked. I am the kind of person who spends a significant portion of my life trying to improve the world and be a positive influence on the lives of the people around me, and when I am ignored or dismissed by the people I want so desperately to help, it really stings.

The thing about all of this is that I want to be the person helping others, so it’s awfully hard to admit when I need help or I can’t handle something myself. Often, that means staying silent when I feel lonely and need company, or trying to keep it to myself when I’ve been hurt by how someone else has treated me. While my first inclination when I see others being mistreated is to leap to their defense, when I am the one on the receiving end, I usually just sit and take it until I have an opportunity to go somewhere private and cry. It’s not even that I’m embarrassed about crying, I just don’t want to burden other people with the knowledge that I’m upset, because I would much rather worry about other people than have them worry about me.

Right now, I don’t know what the solution is to this. I know, though, that there is no pain that I experience that my Savior doesn’t understand. Maybe this is the thorn in my flesh, to want so desperately to connect with other people and to struggle to do so. One thing I do know is that, when I let it drive me back into the arms of my Father, I find comfort there in Him. Perhaps this is how I am to learn to rely on Him alone. Maybe I need to break over and over again to be molded into the woman I am meant to be. If that is what I need, then so be it.

If you’re struggling with this too, know that you are not alone, and when no one else seems to understand how you’re feeling, there is One who does, and who will never leave you. You are welcome to contact me if you need someone to talk to. I can’t promise I’ll have the answers, but I will help as I’m able.

In the meantime, I’ll be listening to The Struggle by Tenth Avenue North, which is always immensely comforting, and looking for answers and opportunities to grow. If there’s one thing I know about my God, it’s that He can and does make beauty out of the most flawed and broken things.

After all, He’s still working on me.

Scripture Art! (2 Cor. 12:9)

I spent some much-needed Daddy-daughter time tonight. I’ve been feeling frustrated and out-of-sorts all week, and it was exactly what I needed. This is now posted on the bulletin board beside my bed, so I’ll wake up to it every morning. It’s not perfect, and I messed up on the word “grace”, but you know what? It’s okay. Grace often IS messy, and that doesn’t make it any less beautiful. I am so grateful for my Heavenly Father who loves me in spite of my mistakes and flaws, and who gives me His strength when I can’t stand on my own.

2 Corinthians 12:9 is of particular significance to me because, as one of approximately twelve Christians at my school (that’s not hyperbole, that’s the truth), I feel like I’m under a lot of pressure to do this Jesus thing the right way, and it’s easy to forget that I’m only supposed to be the human Maya I was made to be, and I’m not supposed to save anyone. I can’t, even if I want to. Anything I do in my own power is temporary— it’s God’s work that is eternal, and it’s His strength that I need. This year, I’m learning to let go of my own need for control and trust that God will take care of me and that His plan is good and will ultimately prevail. He wouldn’t have me here if He didn’t have a reason, and I have already seen Him doing some pretty amazing things here.

Thank you, God, for another day and for giving me Your strength to get through it!

How Should Christians Respond to Abortion?

Hello, and happy Back to the Future Day!

It has been a long time since I’ve posted (almost a month, in fact), and I apologize for the wait. I have had a lot going on (midterms, visiting family at home, general college stuff, trying to make friends, etc.), and I hope this isn’t too much of a disappointment, but I don’t have a particularly long post for today.

As you may already know, my Bible study at school is doing a two-week study on abortion and the Gospel, and last night, I was given 20 minutes to do a presentation. It’s not the same as my full presentation (because I am a very talented elucidator and have to stop myself from talking so much that everyone, including me, forgets what I’m talking about), but I’ve decided to share with you my PowerPoint and handouts, which outline the Christian case against abortion and the moral obligation followers of Christ have to fight the modern-day genocide of our unborn brethren. Here are the links below:

How should Christians respond to abortion? (PowerPoint)

How should Christians respond to abortion? (Handouts)

You are more than welcome to download and share these. I would prefer that you also share the source, because if anyone has questions about the arguments presented or the information included, I want to be available for answers and discussion!

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A few notes based on questions I was asked last night:

*I only listed a couple of pro-life organizations as examples. Many more can be found at the Students For Life website here.

*The statistics I cited come from the Guttmacher Institute, which is the research arm of Planned Parenthood. It is basically the only source for abortion statistics in the US, and unfortunately, while they have plenty of incentives to skew the numbers, this is what we have to work with. Assume that all numbers given are conservative estimates.

*The numbers I cited are US abortion statistics, because while abortion throughout the world is a horrific tragedy, most of us have much greater opportunities right here where we live to end this genocide, and it’s where most of us will be able to make the most difference. There are pro-life groups working to build a culture of life throughout Europe and the rest of the world as well, but it is here that I (and most, if not all, of you) have the opportunity to affect the laws and public acceptance of abortion, and it is here that I want to focus on, at least for the time being.

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If you have any questions about the content of the presentation or there’s anything you think should be added, please feel free to comment or message me. Have a blessed day! (:

How Comfort Steals Our Joy

Hey, guys.

So, I’m going to be honest here… I’m struggling. This is not a friendly environment for Christians. As one friend put it the other day, I’m basically “taking the Ring into Mordor”. It’s hostile territory, and it’s uncomfortable and hard and I don’t like it. This is not a place where I am happy, and I often feel very, very alone.

BUT.

That same friend reminded me that what I’m experiencing right now is Christianity in its natural state. The early Church did not grow in a friendly, safe environment; it grew in the midst of adversity. I even wrote a paper back in ninth grade about how the persecution of the early Christians led to the spread of the Gospel throughout the world, and somehow, it still hadn’t really occurred to me that not only is it normal in our PC-driven culture for people not to like Christians, it is actually the natural state of the world. Sometimes, living in a country where we have a government that allows us freedom of religious expression means we take that for granted, and in doing so, I think we’re missing out.

There is a certain comfort to be found in knowing that you are living in a way worthy of the sacrifice Christ made for you on the cross, even when you are surrounded by circumstances and behaviors that make you want to run as far as you can in the other direction. It is a comfort that can only be found when we give up the idea that we somehow deserve to be comfortable and happy and for things to go well for us. I’m fairly certain that when Christ said that we had to take up our crosses and die to ourselves, He wasn’t talking about having warm fuzzies all the time and being best friends with everybody because peace and love and everyone will magically like you because you’re so nice. That is not the reality of Christianity, and if you think it is, then you have missed a great deal of the Gospel.

The Gospel says to us that we live in a broken, fallen, imperfect world, and despite all of the horrible things we do to hurt ourselves and each other, God still loves us enough to redeem us if we will accept Him. He doesn’t promise it will be easy or fun or that we won’t be sad anymore because Jesus will fix everything and make it all better as soon as we say we’re sorry for being sinners, because that’s not how this works. In fact, when you truly accept Christ, you’re saying yes to life getting a whole lot harder because now, the previously complacent forces of hell will be doing everything they can to tear you down and render you ineffective as a Christian. It’s not a pleasant thought, but it’s true. Christians have never, ever been called to be comfortable.

²⁴ Then Jesus said to his disciples, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. ²⁵ For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. ²⁶ What good will it be for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?”

Matthew 16:24-26

Does this sound like a Joel Osteen “God wants you to be happy” kind of Christianity to you? Because it isn’t. Or how about this one:

¹⁸ “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. ¹⁹ If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you. ²⁰ Remember what I told you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also. If they obeyed my teaching, they will obey yours also. ²¹ They will treat you this way because of my name, for they do not know the one who sent me. ²² If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not be guilty of sin; but now they have no excuse for their sin. ²³ Whoever hates me hates my Father as well. ²⁴ If I had not done among them the works no one else did, they would not be guilty of sin. As it is, they have seen, and yet they have hated both me and my Father. ²⁵ But this is to fulfill what is written in their Law: ‘They hated me without reason.’”

John 15:18-25

This whole “if” scenario Jesus is talking about is not really an “if” scenario. The whole “if they persecuted me” thing was not a possibility that Jesus was discussing, it was an eventuality. He knew that He was going to suffer and die for us. And none of the stuff that has happened or is happening or will happen to Christians is a surprise to Him. He told us the price of following Him, and it is a high one. We are to surrender our entire beings to His will, which means giving up the comfort that we cherish so much.

Now, some people have taken this to an extreme, and I want to be clear that I am not advocating for a new trend in self-flagellation or wearing hairshirts or anything like that. Self-harm is not okay. But I think we as Christians need to get over this idea that we’re entitled to anything. Our lives belong to God, if we are truly His children, and that means that whatever we have is a gift from Him out of grace. So when things don’t go our way, or we feel like someone is infringing on our rights, or they’re just being downright cruel, we need to keep in mind that a) we were told to expect this and b) we’re not entitled to be happy.

Throughout the Bible, God repeatedly put His people in situations that were very, very uncomfortable. Take Moses as an example: he had to go before the pharaoh and ask for him to let the Israelites go, and when that didn’t work, he had to lead them to the Promised Land, which included parting a large river with the armies of Egypt chasing after them. Or David, who was sent to play music for a crazy king who threw javelins when he got angry, not to mention the whole thing with Goliath. Or Esther, who had to put her life at risk to prevent genocide from being perpetrated against her people by her husband. Or Daniel, who was thrown into a den of hungry lions because he wouldn’t relinquish his faith in God. I sure don’t envy any of those people those tasks. Do you?

Personally, I’m thankful that I don’t have to worry about being tortured and/or killed for my faith (at least, it’s highly unlikely). But I’m learning to be grateful for the other hard things I do go through because I’m a Christian. Being on a campus that is so openly anti-Christian makes me look harder at my priorities and the person I want to be, and most importantly, it drives me back into the arms of my Savior. It is highly uncomfortable to constantly have egregious sin thrown in my face and for it to be demanded of me that I embrace an ideology that is entirely opposed to my faith. But it helps me understand a little bit more about how Christ loves us, in spite of how we throw our sins in His face– our sins that, although perhaps less offensive to us, are still sins that He suffered and died for. I am slowly learning what it is to love those who hate me, and in that painful and difficult experience, there is true joy: not happiness, but joy, and that, in the end, is what I truly desire. I don’t want to live a comfortable life where I’m never asked to have courage and faith. I want my life to be lived for the glory of God, and I can trust that the peace and comfort He gives me are far greater than anything the world can offer.

I will not accept the shallow substitutes the world offers me if I’ll relinquish my faith. I choose to be comforted, rather than comfortable, to be grateful for adversity as well as more obvious blessings, and to be joyful instead of happy, because I can trust that my Father loves me. I may not have an easy life, but it will be a good one. And for now, this is my prayer:

² Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, ³ because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. ⁴ Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.

James 1:2-4