Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

How to Have a Happy Marriage

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I receive emails and messages frequently from strangers around the world seeking advice for how to improve their marriage relationship. I can’t say I hold some kind of secret sauce to happily ever after, but I do personally enjoy a very healthy and fruitful relationship with my spouse. If asked our secret, I could mention a handful of things we do or don’t do. If I had to come up with just one word to take to the heart of marriage, it would probably be selflessness, but even that isn’t the key. As I thought about what made our union so blissful, the many key components aside, I realized there was one factor that I believed was responsible.

Even when I speak of selfless behavior, this isn’t something we came up with on our own, or even reached by trial and error. Though, building a life with someone is certainly that. It’s moments built upon days, set up into weeks, with the years racing by, where you do acquire a certain familiarity and ease of being together.

My husband said earlier at our dinner date, “I’ll bet this pandemic showed a lot of people what their marriages were made of.”

Or not made of, sadly. I mean, moments stacked up into weeks, and then passing years can be a dreadful experience if you don’t particularly like the other person. I can honestly say I love my spouse more and more, each and every day. Just when I think I couldn’t love him more… I do. So what gives?

I treat my husband the way I would want to be treated, and he is the same. He is gentle with my feelings, considerate and kind. When anger tries to gather in either of our minds, we have the wherewithal to pause, consider the other’s feelings, and not just react, but react in love. We didn’t get this from a marriage conference or life coach.

I serve my husband in love, and he serves me in return. He doesn’t serve me out of obligation, and I don’t serve him based on some religious idea. We don’t follow a traditional family unit because that’s what’s worked for others. I consider him greater than myself, and he considers me greater than himself. We place the need of one another above our personal needs or desires, and yet mutually we both get what we need in the relationship. Selfless love. Dear Abby didn’t suggest the idea.

I don’t compare. I don’t compare my man to other men, and he doesn’t compare me to other women. We don’t covet the relationships of others. We feed our own. But I also don’t compare myself to him. I don’t place our roles on a scale of justice, weighing one contribution against another. Neither does he. I don’t concern myself with what he’s not doing. I’m too busy being grateful for the things he does do. I don’t keep a tally of who does more in the relationship. That would take my eyes off the gift of doing for him. It would blind me to all the tiny, selfless acts he offers each and every day. No human counselor offered this advice.

I am too busy looking in the mirror to find fault in his reflection. I focus on being a better me, and he does the same. I water my own grass, I don’t sweat the small stuff, and I never let the sun set on my anger. Heck, I just don’t get angry much. Nope, it’s not a miracle chill pill. It’s the Fruit of the Spirit.

All the things I’ve mentioned I don’t do, or the many wonderful things my husband does do, these are all fruits that have sprung up in our marriage because we abide in the vine. To put it plainly, we follow the example of Jesus, and that makes us better for one another. Heck, if it was up to just me, I’d be a horrible wife. My hormones are a mess, I tend to be an absolute control freak, and I cannot understand people who don’t like their ducks in a row. If it were up to me, I’d likely expect perfection in a man, but I learned early on that my happiness isn’t found in this world alone. My joy is complete in Heavenly places, and that takes a load off the chaos down here.

Early in our marriage we began a journey of getting to know Jesus better, and I now realize that is the absolute best thing we did not only for ourselves, but for each other. The teachings of Jesus found in the Bible are the best life hack you will ever find. The words in red teach me how to be a better partner, a selfless friend, a giving wife, a gentle lover, a peaceable person, and an understanding spouse. They teach me not only how to love, but how to love well. Every day is spent in the Word, and because of this dedication to living and loving like Jesus, my marriage blossoms under that care. Our relationship is like a well-watered vineyard, bursting forth with good fruit. It’s not us, really, but rather our ability to live out what scripture teaches.

Of importance and worth mentioning, you can’t just read a few verses out of Ephesians and call it a day. You can’t attend a marriage conference at your church and expect a life change overnight. It turns out that the entire story of God’s love from beginning to end, on each and every page, in each parable and Old Testament lesson, lays the foundation for learning to love like Him. It’s a day by day taking in of the truth, a daily listening to the Holy Spirit, and a continuous surrendering of self to His ways. To be a good spouse is to follow Jesus. To have a happy marriage is to build your life on His purposes, abiding in His love, and not trying to fill your heart with anything less than the true love of Christ. To love the Lord, like, really love the Lord, is the only way to love your spouse as you should, and to be loved by them like you deserve.

My husband is an amazing husband because he seeks Christ. His relationship with me simply overflows from that. Any good thing I do in my marriage is Spirit led. Like I mentioned before, I’d likely be a pretty naggy and slightly psychotic wife if not for the patience, kindness, good temperance, and love the Spirit fills my heart with on the daily as I surrender my life to Him.

I never want to be one of those preachy, self-righteous, overly religious, or pious people who claim to know the secret to a happy life. Heck, I’m still learning as I go, a work in progress, if you will. All I know is, I love my husband, I love my marriage, and I love my life. I wouldn’t change one thing about it. I am not just content, I am supremely blessed, living my own fairy tale it feels like. And when I look around for a reason for my bliss, or the cause of such happiness, I know without a doubt it’s our decision to grow close to Jesus that has drawn us so perfectly close to one another. No secret sauce, but certainly a great recipe for a happy married life.

How Christianity is Missing the Harvest

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In reading my Bible this morning a verse really stuck out to me. It’s like the words zoomed off the page, and I knew the Holy Spirit was speaking those words just for me at that moment.

I think of that old song by The Byrds, Turn, Turn, Turn, where they sing, “there is a time for every purpose, under heaven.” Taken from the 3rd Book of Ecclesiastes, the words basically explain that every event in our lives is for a purpose. Even the hard ones. If ever there was a season that I would question its purpose, it would probably be this one. There have been hundreds of memes joking about the horrible year that was 2020, and we laugh. But I think most of us laughed to keep from crying.

Whether you want to quote The Byrds or the original author, likely Solomon, the verse/lyrics tell us, there’s a time to weep (which I did a lot the last year), a time to laugh (which thankfully I continued to do). It also says there’s a time to plant (which I try to do daily), but also a time to reap (which brings me back to the beginning of this whole thing).

John 4:34-35
“My food,” said Jesus, “is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work. 35 Don’t you have a saying, ‘It’s still four months until harvest’? I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest.

Ripe for the harvest. Y’all, I believe our country is ripe for a harvest.

The conversation in John 4 takes place between Jesus and His disciples right after He’s spoken to the Samaritan woman at the well. This is significant in the fact that Jesus just told this woman a time was coming when she wouldn’t have to go to the mountain or Jerusalem (to the temple) to worship. Jesus tells her that His Father is seeking worshippers who will worship Him in Spirit and Truth. He lets her know that time is coming, and it’s coming through Him. As a Samaritan and a woman she’s been “unworthy” according to the religious leaders, but the Messiah arrives to rock the foundations of the Law and to tear the temple curtain in half. Meaning, people like the sinner at the well are welcome to seek forgiveness and eternal life as much as anyone else.

Over the years (since the arrival of Christ), the enemy has come to distort the message of Salvation, and he’s often come under the guise of religious law. If you’re looking for the devil, you won’t find him in a bar or strip club. You’ll find him in the church, whispering his lies softly to those who will listen. You can look back in history at the destruction of mankind in the name of the Lord, and each time after Satan has used man to destroy the message of love and forgiveness, the Holy Spirit has raised up purveyors of truth to heal the rift zealotry has left in its wake.

I believe we are in a period of time where Jesus is calling purveyors of His truth to rise.

Open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest!

I don’t want to save people! Only Jesus does that. But I do want to show people the healing that can be found only in His love. I want to offer freedom to the captives and daily success through this troubled world.

Boy, is this world troubled. The pain, loss, and hatred of 2020 has planted open, hungry hearts in the center of mankind. The ground has been made soft by this past year. I don’t believe God gave us COVID to judge mankind, but I do believe He can use it to draw His children into His loving arms.

So, how does one reap in a season of harvest?

I’ll tell you how NOT to reap.

We will never reap by an Us versus Them mentality.

We will never reap by separating ourselves from those who need us the most.

We won’t reap by ignoring the reality of racial inequality and injustice, simply because it makes us uncomfortable to admit it still exists.

We cannot reap when we close ourselves off in a church building, with a sign of rules posted outside the door.

We cannot reap by placing politics at the forefront of our purposes.

We cannot reap when our hope is in who is elected to the oval office, rather than who is the King of Kings.

We cannot reap when we ignore the sins of pride, rage, hatred, or malice, while only focusing on the sins of homosexuality or abortion.

We cannot reap when we speak words of division and anger, rather than words of kindness and love.

We cannot reap when we publicly bicker with fellow believers on social media who have differing opinions.

Do you love Jesus? Do you believe He died for our sins so we might have eternal life?

If the answers are yes and yes, then we as the church of Christianity should stand united to reap.

Who did you vote for? Are you a Republican or a Democrat?

These are the questions that distract us from the ripe fields.

There’s a wind of deception blowing through our land. Why do you think that is?

The Father seeks those who will worship Him in Spirit and Truth.

Satan seeks to divide, deceive, and distract.

I believe we have come to a season of harvesting. I believe for many Christians it’s a time to turn, turn, turn.

To turn away from political entanglements. To turn away from a deceiving Religious Spirit that whispers anything other than the Saving Grace of Jesus!

We are in a season of harvesting, but many of the “workers” are trying too hard to separate the wheat from the chaff. This is not our job, gang. The Messiah decides what needs to be gathered into the barn and what gets thrown into the fire. I fear many think too highly of their position as wheat, and I certainly don’t want to be told by my Savior to depart, that He never knew me.

So, how do we successfully reap in this season?

We reap by reading our Bible more and our social media feeds less.

We reap by seeking the truth of the Holy Spirit, not by seeking truth in the media or on YouTube.

We reap by loving God with all our heart, and not giving the best of ourselves to our politics.

We reap by loving our neighbor as ourselves, not by saying “we gotta take care of our own first.”

We reap by laying down pride, by turn, turn, turning from self-righteous indignation.

We reap by admitting where we have been wrong.

We reap by modeling forgiveness. Y’all, I’ve been working on this one. My heart hurts from religious friends who told me I wasn’t a “true Christian” when I questioned if Donald Trump was the best representative for Christianity. I have had to lay down my offense over and over, understanding it’s not about me. It’s about doing His will. In the verses above in John, Jesus said his food was to do the will of His Father.

We need more of that! We’re getting a bellyache lately from filling up on worldly food, making ourselves sick on politics and conspiracy theories. We cannot reap if our diet is unhealthy! We must feed on His truth, His bread of life, and His living water. I am certain we will never find those foods stocked on the shelves of this world.

We reap by loving first. Loving God, and loving others. The “others” here includes those who think different than you, look different than you, vote different than you, and live different than you. If you’re interested in being in a “Saved Club” where you and your closest friends get to go to Heaven, then by all means, continue the work you’ve been doing. But if you desire to truly open your eyes and see the field, then I encourage you to step away from the worldly distraction. Step away from the law, and step into His grace. Step into the neighborhoods, lifestyles, and groups you sneer at, and join the Father in showing EVERYONE the way home.

I’m Done With God

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“Don’t preach to me. I’m done with God.”

This is something a friend said to me recently, and afterwards it really got me to thinking. At the time I remember my head said, “He’s not done with you, though,” yet the words that came out of my mouth were more subdued.

“Ok.”

That is what I had said. To back down was easier than to engage, but that doesn’t mean it’s always the best answer. Thinking over the situation I realized my friend was done like a lot of people were done. It wasn’t so much that he was done with God, but rather that He was done with religion. I get it.

Religion, to me, is like book learning. I read all the material in nursing school. I even took notes. But I did not develop a love for the field until I entered into it hands on. I mean, I was intrigued by anatomy and physiology. The idea of healing made me happy. But it wasn’t until I saw the power of how my healing hands affected another human being that the field of nursing brought me joy. If I just looked at it as a paycheck, I’m sure I would have found something easier on my back with better hours long ago. Droves of nurses flee the bedside because the stress of the field is frustrating and overwhelming. Some of us stay because we’ve fallen in love with what we do. I think for much of the world, they’re easily burned out on religion. I get it.

My friend had asked me some questions about that angry God in the sky. I think the hellfire and damnation part was causing a great divide in his heart. He couldn’t understand how he could follow a Father who would let good friends of his not experience eternity in Heaven. I think he was kinda seeing God like the mean kid in high school who threw the best parties, but you only got invited if your parent’s bank account was up to par. I get it. Book learning will only teach you so much. Heart learning is the only way to get the right answers.

At the time I simply said, “I’m not the judge of who goes to heaven or hell. I leave that up to Him.” But I should have said more.

I should have admitted, “I don’t know all the answers, but I do know my Father.”

I know Jesus. And to know Him is to trust Him.

I don’t know why good people die young. I don’t know why my mother died at 54, or why a good friend of mine just died at 51. But I do know God is good. I didn’t just learn that by going to church, and not even just by taping some inspirational Bible verses on my bathroom mirror. I learned it by love.

I don’t know what happens when hurting, lost people die. I know what scriptures say about things like “weeping and gnashing of teeth,” and I believe that the only way to eternal life is through Jesus, but I don’t know what happens in the unseen. I don’t know what happens on a spiritual plain between here and there. But I know Him. I know He is love. I know He is forgiveness. I know He is the way.

I’m not a Biblical scholar, and I’m not an expert on the law. But I do know Grace. I know that it saves. I do know mercy, and I know the Father’s is abundant.

I think my friend, and a lot of people out there aren’t so much done with God as they are just getting started with Him. The beginning of any relationship can be rocky. The Holy Spirit calls us in. Our hearts are made to be filled with Him. But changing the way we live our lives? That will never come by memorizing scripture. It will come, though, by falling in love with the One who breathed those words into life. And that sweet Ruach, breath longs to blow off the pages into our lives.

This is hard to write. See, I don’t want to discount the truth of the words written in the Bible, but I do want to impress that they are more than just words we must adhere to. They are a doorway into a relationship, a happy home built into our hearts, and therein the answers are found. Without the relationship the words can be meaningless. I know many atheists who have read the Bible front to back. Without the love embossed on the pages, we lose sight of the author’s heart.

I don’t know all the answers to this broken world, but I do know the heart of the God who saved it. I found that the difficult questions of life no longer bothered me as much when I put my focus on the final answer to it all. Jesus. I remember a song I learned when I was young, based on scripture.

Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness. And all these things will be added unto you.

It was true all along. To seek is to find, and to find is to know. To know isn’t to know all the answers, but it is to know that whatever the answer is, it is good. It is good because He is good. There are so many things we cannot understand, fathom, or explain, but we can get a little bit closer to the answers by knowing His heart. All I know is, my God is love, and He loves all His children. I will trust Him to sort it out and do things in a magnificently beautiful way. A way that upends religion, much like He upended those tables.

I said before that I didn’t think my friend was so much done with God, but rather he hadn’t got good and started yet. What I’m saying is, you can go to church every Sunday and listen to the entire sermon, but until you spend time alone with Jesus, talking to Him, reading His words, and asking Him to speak the truth of those words through His Holy Spirit into your heart, you’re gonna get tripped up on the details. You’re gonna think the Judge in the sky is angry over your sins, and you’ll forget the Savior who said, “forgive them, Father, they don’t know what they’re doing.” Even as they tortured and killed Him! He spilled His blood for the crowds that yelled “crucify Him,” and until you know that Jesus like a best friend, you’re going to be done too.

Religion will make you say grace before a meal, but relationship will have you give away your last bit of food. Like any relationship, that is cultivated by time together, a love life with Jesus will change your perspective of who He is.

You won’t say, “how can God do this to me!”

You’ll pray, “Jesus, help me through this. I don’t know what you’re doing through this, but I know it must be for my good.”

God loves us too much to be a big, mean kid with a magnifying glass burning ants on the sidewalk. But the only way to see Him as He intends is to get to know Him. I should have told my friend when he asked me tough questions, “my Father, the Dad I know, He isn’t looking down from the clouds with a menacing grin while He throws people in a fire pit.”

If that’s who you think God is, then I would encourage you to dive a little deeper. Get to know Him, and then all the hard questions will have the same easy answer. Realize you’re not done; you never really got started. And He is certainly no where near completed with us.

Wrecking Grace

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I don’t usually share interactions I have with others, but I felt this was a good learning tool for us all. I always say I’m a work in progress, and I think we should all strive each and every day to grow into the people God intended us to be. I read a classic devotional just this morning that stated, “it takes God all time and eternity to make a man and woman after His own purposes,” (Oswald Chambers). With that in mind I keep my heart open to how I might most emulate Jesus.

I recently shared this image on social media.

The original poster wrote, “no matter where you stand, history is being made, and that brings me to tears ❤️”

It also touched my heart to see this powerful image. The fact is that women, and especially women of color, have not been afforded the same opportunities in this country. To witness such gains is a sight to behold. There are many things in (of) this world that are not right, and racism and unequal rights are one.

Not long after sharing this post I started receiving political comments. Yes, Kamala Harris is a Democrat and Vice President elect, but I wasn’t fishing for a political argument when I shared this. Sometimes I forget that we all see things in a different light.

One friend on my post said, “it’s a shame that a woman that wants to legalize prostitution and murder the unborn is praised and admired.”

To which I replied, “it’s not necessary to comment negatively on a post where I’m celebrating and supporting friends of color (and all women) who have finally (after way too long) obtained a well respected government office. I think perhaps that’s a problem with society today, and sadly the breakdown of Christianity and its witness to a lost world. We cannot manage to hold onto our values without crushing others. I am a pro life lover of Jesus. I also support minorities as Jesus commanded. The wonderful thing about life is we can do multiple things. I choose to do my multiple things in love.”

My friend ended up replying that she wasn’t against women or minorities, that I must have misunderstood her. And here’s the thing, I never thought she was. I assumed her passion for politics and pro life issues caused her to comment negatively about the VP. The problem is, many people do misunderstand our intentions when we polarize issues. So I wanted to share a few things I truly believe in my heart and spirit to be true.

You can disagree with someone politically, yet still love them. To love them is to give them worth. To love them is to see them as God sees them, and to understand they are made in His image whether they realize it or act like it. One friend commented she’d be happier if Kamala was a Godly woman. I would too. But as I told my friend, perhaps we can pray for her. We can pray that God will place a loving person in her path who shines the light of Jesus rather than condemning her for where she is in this life.

There are more than two sins in the Bible. Murder (abortion for the Conservative) and Homosexuality aren’t God’s top agenda for 2021. People forget this, but pride is a sin. Sorry, Mr. Trump. Rage is a sin. Dang, that’s half of my Facebook timeline. Greed is a sin. But I’m sure that’s not behind anyone’s stance on taxes, government aid, or immigration. Sorry, that was sarcasm. Like I said, I’m still working on me.

My point is, you cannot hold firm to one topic of this world and let that be your guiding force. You cannot decide to spew hateful comments, ridicule people, or allow other sinful behavior just because someone’s value system isn’t like yours. If you think this world needs Jesus, then show them Jesus. Turn the other cheek, give your coat when they ask for your shirt, touch the lepers, feed the hungry, stand up for the marginalized, and let all that you do be done in love. Eat with prostitutes and sinners, and show them unconditional love. Love the Lord with all your heart, and love others as yourself.

It’s ok to be a Christian and still love minorities. You can support your friends who say, “black lives matter” because they do! You can lay down politics long enough to answer back, “yes, your life does matter. I’m sorry people have made you feel like it doesn’t.”

It’s ok to love people who don’t have the same moral compass as you. Again, how do we love? Not by condemnation or judgement, but by esteeming them with worth. We are all children of God. Like I tell my girls, “just because your sister makes you mad doesn’t mean you aren’t sisters. You can’t say you hate her. You can’t speak ugly things to her. You’re sisters.”

Jesus said He didn’t come to judge the world, but to save it. If you’re a Christian then you believe salvation comes through belief in Christ. So, how do we lead others to this saving grace? I’ll give you a hint. It’s not by building a ‘me against them’ mentality. It’s not by voting red, blue, or anything else. I have never seen such worldly thinking as this year. This earth is not our home. An election isn’t our eternity, and a president isn’t our savior. Our eternity is life with the Lord, and our commission here on earth is to tell people this good news. Y’all! We’re failing miserably. We are alienating the lost. We’re killing our witness. We are wrecking the gift of grace by not showing it at all. We must do better.

I don’t even know how to end this post, and when I don’t know what to say, I just pray.

God, help us. Speak your truth to our hearts. May we abide in mercy, and extend that to those hurting around us. May we lay down pride, and see your love for each person we meet. May we arise at the end of this fiery year as a new and better church, a bride who has her eyes fixed on her groom, not on the font of the wedding invitations. May we remember our end goal of victory, and not fuss over who all is and is not playing according to all the rules. You are the ultimate referee making those calls. May we remember that. But mostly, Lord, make us extravagant lovers, the kind of people who would lay down their life, even for the sinners who don’t deserve it. Because we are all the undeserving, yet you loved us anyway. Remind us to extend that same grace and light of love each day. We’ve forgotten.

Christianity’s Only Hope for the Presidential Election

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If there was one thing we could all agree about this year, it would be the monumental amount of disagreement this year.

What’s the only thing that has seemed certain this year? The abundant amount of uncertainty this year.

Indeed, this year has rivaled most in my short, forty-three on earth, and a part of me has desired to hide away in a storm shelter, waiting for the harsh winds of this season to pass. Whether you have experienced fear for your life in the face of a novel virus, or fear that your government is feeding you untruths about a virus, the fact is you’ve experienced fear. It’s easy to forget that fear often manifests in an apparently righteous anger, or in a quest to reveal the truth. Whether we’re enormously offended or staunchly standing for truth, it’s that thread of uncertainty for the future that drives the conversation. This year has rocked everyone’s foundation of security, and it’s ok to admit that. No matter how our response has manifested.

This has been more than just a year of isolation, though. It’s also been a season of unveiling. We’ve seen injustice come to light, but we’ve also seen the worst of humanity bubble to the surface. It seems that fear for the ugliness within ourselves can manifest in denial that a problem even exists. I think that’s been the hardest part of this year for me. Watching the compassion evaporate, and the selfishness multiply. Of note, I don’t exclude myself from this particular response to 2020. I certainly have dropped my basket of spiritual fruit multiple times this year.

I think the biggest problem this year, though, has truly boiled down to how we see, and how we hear. Do you remember the words of Jesus?

Matthew 13:13 This is why I speak to them in parables: “Though seeing, they do not see; though hearing, they do not hear or understand. 14 In them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah: “ ‘You will be ever hearing but never understanding; you will be ever seeing but never perceiving. 15 For this people’s heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn, and I would heal them.’

For a large part, as Christians we see and we hear, but only in part. Mostly what we see is of this world, and in actuality it should be the opposite. Most of what we see should be not of this world. We simply forget our heritage. We become so distracted by what’s in front of us, we forget what lies ahead. In this regard we place our hope mostly in the things we can see and touch, and not in things of above (and not below). The problem with this? We will always end up disappointed.

It’s like, if your hope for your marriage is in your spouse, they will fail you. Conversely, if you are counting on yourself to make it succeed, you’ll end up sorely disappointed. Our hope for our relationships should always be on the One who created them, the One who models how we should maneuver through them, and the One who gives the best examples for how to love.

But, our eyes will only focus on the problems in our partner. Our ears will listen to the world for a solution. And then we wonder what happened to the healing.

If ever (in my lifetime) a year has shown us what happens when our senses are too in-tune with the world, and not enough in sync with Jesus, it’s been this year. So, when our eyes are seeing only the problem (and not the solution in Him), our ears are hearing the lies of this world (rather than the truth in Him), and our hope is in the solutions we can visualize with human eyes, we will end up extremely jaded.

Here’s what happens. We experience trials of this world, and we place our hope in the solutions this world offers. We put all our eggs in a political basket, or we place all our efforts into advancing a system of this world. We consider things like vaccines the only way to save us. We consider achieving civil justice the answer to broken human hearts, and while ending corruption is also God’s heart, it will not be the answer for a corrupt man. Changing systems, policies, and political parties will not heal the heart of mankind. We know this! We simply forget to proceed through life like we do.

My point is, there’s not a problem with seeking justice, truth, and a non-corrupt system. It’s honorable to speak truth, but we forget to speak it in love, highlighting the true answer for all of the above. There’s nothing wrong with seeking change through our political party of choice, but if we count on our politicians to change the world, we will never win. Point blank, we have but one hope to turn this year around. We’ve simply misplaced that hope.

We see with eyes of this world, and we hear with ears the same. It shouldn’t be this way. Jesus said in the verses above that our hearts have become calloused, but if we could understand the world with our hearts and turn, that He would heal us. Do you know how we can do that? We must learn His heart. Read that last sentence again. His heart, not the world’s heart.

The heart of this world will have you misplace your hope. It will make you place your future and hope in the systems of this world, but they cannot save you. They will, in fact, fail you. So whether your candidate wins or loses, your future and hope cannot reside there. They must be in Jesus and His heart for mankind, as stated in scripture. We must hear with kingdom ears, and see with eyes focused on eternity. But more than that, we must speak with a love that proclaims the hope we have in Him. Our words don’t ridicule or mock when they’re kingdom-minded. They speak hope, love, peace, and the joy that comes from Heaven.

Sadly, a large majority of Christians will view this as a fluff piece. They’ll say, “yeah, that’s nice and all in theory, but in the real world it doesn’t work that easily.”

That breaks my heart. The truth is, the very simple yet profound nugget in this post can change your entire life. It really is that easy. We really can have victory regardless of an election. We truly can experience peace no matter what the media may say. We don’t even have to hunker down in a storm shelter to escape the problems whirling about us. We only need ears to hear, eyes to see, and love to guide us. No matter what happens in November, the future for a person saved by the blood of Christ is set. Regardless of how this year ends or what the next year holds, there is peace in eternal life with God. In the end, our Father wins, and a new earth and system will prevail. I can handle whatever 2020 throws with that in mind.

The thing is, when you know your future is set, you can pass through the desert unscathed. In the 23rd Psalm it proclaims “though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…”

Y’all! We’ve missed the shadow part!

There is no valley of death. Death is but a shadow.

2020, and all its problems, are but a shadow.

The outcome of the 2020 election, no matter what, is but a shadow.

And do you know the thing about shadows? They mean nothing in the face of what it real. They mean nothing without the light. The light of God’s truth reveals the existence of all things, and our hope should only be in Him. Shadows are shifting, but our Father is solid. And that is where our Hope should stand.

The Unexpected Peace I Found in Pain

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I was a few months away from my thirtieth birthday when my life fell apart. I had a beautiful home, new vehicles shining in the double garage, and the financial stability to add to the rooms of my house pretty much anything my heart desired. Four bedrooms, but basically silent halls. I had a wonderful 9-5, good friends, and who can forget the double shelves of alphabetized DVDs. Life was good. Or as good as life got, anyway. Right?!

I can remember the heartache like no other. My throat was raw with it. The deep pain in my chest rose with bile and acid up my esophagus, and the tears just kept falling. They had not stopped since the night before, and glancing at my red-rimmed eyes in my new car’s mirror made me glad I had not reported to my job site that morning. They would have known immediately.

“What’s wrong with me?!” I wondered.

I drove along an unknown roadway. Despite having tossed and turned most of the night, and regardless of the six pack I had numbly swallowed to help usher in the sandman, I had managed to leave my happy (looking) home early to get to work on time. My promotion had brought along new training, and it seemed the best bit of luck that this particular day would be one spent commuting over an hour to work, alongside strangers who wouldn’t question my melancholy. This was back when I believed in things like luck or coincidence.

“Why am I so unlovable?!” I questioned the pristine interior of my vehicle.

I was almost thirty years old, and I felt like I should be thinking about starting a family. Not this. My mind traveled back to the prior week, how my primary care doctor had questioned my desire for children in light of the birth control prescription she was writing. I didn’t know when she asked why we hadn’t started a family yet. We both wanted children. But in the silence of the rubber meeting the roadway that morning, I knew. I finally understood.

“What did I do wrong?!” I cried.

I racked my brain in the dim, morning light. I tried to be a good wife. I didn’t nag. I kept fit and trim. I had even fixed that flat chest situation. Thank you, Mr. Surgeon. I was a good cook, a complimentary companion, and always quick to concede in an argument. So why did he not want me?

“I don’t want to be married anymore,” he had said the night before.

He had asked me to take a seat, then had spoken the words matter-of-fact, like turning off love and ending a marriage was as easy as changing the color pattern of the living room. Perhaps easier.

“Help me, God!” I cried into the silent car, as I replayed the night before my marriage ended.

God. I still believed in Him. I had never stopped, really. I just hadn’t spoken to Him in a while. In fact, the last time I remembered hearing His voice was before I had gotten married. As things began to heat up in our relationship, some six years prior, I remember the whisper of the Holy Spirit reminding me of something I had learned as a young woman at a discipleship training school overseas. The speaker had cautioned the room full of us young adults about the dangers of “missionary-dating.” You might be familiar with the Bible’s instruction about being unequally yoked, and this was the caution the Lord brought to my mind.

So, over a table full of empty beer bottles, in a smoky bar, I had asked my soon-to-be spouse if he believed in Jesus.

“Of course! I’m Catholic,” he answered with a laugh, and that had been the extent of my prayerful consideration of our relationship.

I don’t want to paint the object of my (then) affection and ex-husband in a bad light. I certainly was no saint, and the point of this story is me. I had ignored the voice of God, His guidance, His Spirit, and relationship with Him for over six years. Yet in the midst of my utter failure and pain, He was the One I cried out to for help.

“Help me, God,” I had cried, and calling for His assistance came as naturally as if I had been doing it all along.

And there, in my pain, He met me. There in my brokenness, He spoke to my heart. The words I heard from the Lord at that moment were like a lightening bolt, yet also, simultaneously, like the whisper of a trusted friend placing their hand on my sagging shoulder and speaking the advice I needed. It’s not important what He said to me in that moment, but I can tell you it rang as one of the truest things that has ever been spoken into my life. It was exactly what I needed in that moment, where I felt so unworthy and unloved, but also what I needed to pick myself up from the mess I was in, and move on from a broken situation I could not control or mend.

I arrived to the alternate job site carrying some things I did not expect to find. Hope for the future, and peace for my current situation. I had been feeling a hurt and pain I couldn’t make my way through, but as I put my car in park in an unfamiliar lot, I knew I could make it with God carrying me. Somehow, and for some reason, He had met me in the midst of my pain. I didn’t deserve an answer. In fact, I had given Him the silent treatment for years. Yet when I cried out in my hurt, my Father answered. I still don’t think I deserved that, but thankfully He is a good, good Father. Compassionate, kind, and unending in mercy.

Life has never been the same since I encountered God in the middle of a lonely highway over thirteen years ago. It didn’t immediately become a pathway of roses, but I do know it began to look up from there. He pulled me from my pit, and I have kept in constant communication with Him ever since. I mean, a God who answers a wayward child who is reaping what she sowed… that is a relationship I could never turn my back on again.

The Lord not only pulled me from my pit, but He filled me with a new song. He gave me a new life, a wonderful husband, beautiful children, a path with purpose, forgiveness, redemption, and all the blessings that are promised in His Word. I haven’t written about my divorce in a long time, but this story has been on my mind lately. Although the circumstances are sad and broken, the healing and restoration is something I never want to forget. I’m so grateful we can serve a God of redemption, who writes us a new story, even when we’ve ripped the pages. He truly makes all things new. This story, while my personal account, is also the story of all mankind. We are all the broken pieces, who had searched for fulfillment in all the wrong places, yet aren’t left on our own. All we have to do is call for help, and He will hear. Even if we haven’t spoken in years. He hears, and He rescues the fallen.

#relationshipgoals

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The awesomeness of God is all-encompassing, and one of the billion things I love about serving the Great I Am is the ability to see my relationship with Him in multiple ways. I remember as a young woman, new to the faith, I found great comfort in the Father Heart aspect of God. As a product of past rejection from an earthly father, it gave me peace to have a Heavenly Dad who would never leave me. Since then I’ve learned to dive deeper into the multifaceted faces of the Lord, and I’ve found lasting relationship in my explorations. At times, He is my groom, the lover of my soul. Other times, a brother, a friend. I’ve even found peace with verses describing the Lord like a nursing mother, even though modern religion would raise us to see God as male only. The thing is, God is so much more. My Savior is everything. But this morning the Holy Spirit spoke a new description to my heart, and I found it so wonderful that I wanted to share.

This morning I was listening to worship music, meditating on the words and my relationship with the Lord, when I felt the Holy Spirit impress these words to my heart.

I’m courting you. It’s like a long distance relationship.

I’ll admit that made me chuckle at first. I mean, if ever there was a relationship I stunk at, it was a long distance one, but as I thought on it more, the comparison made perfect sense. After all, I couldn’t see Jesus, but I knew I loved Him. In fact, the love was so deep and powerful, it often times made me weep with joy. No one had ever made me feel that way.

My past experience with a long distance relationship as a woman in my early twenties had not gone well. He was a great guy, but the distance didn’t make my heart grow fonder; it only made it grow lonely. I mentioned that early rejection previously, and I’m sure that had a lot to do with my need for affection. I felt as if I needed almost constant reassurance and proof of love. I needed to hear the words, and I needed the physical touch. With a thousand miles separating me and this particular fella, it didn’t bode well. I found proximal affection in someone within my zip code, and because of my unfaithfulness, the distant relationship fell apart.

The thing is, something wild happened when I entered a relationship with Jesus. It wasn’t immediate, but more aptly developed over time. It seemed that the more time I spent with the Lord in prayer and reading His love letters to me in scripture, the less I needed that aforementioned affirmation. I knew Jesus loved me. I knew it deep down in my soul. I didn’t need a physical hand holding mine because His Holy Spirit was with me always, and in the lonely times when I couldn’t feel His presence, all I had to do was revisit those love letters in the Bible. They reminded me of His unending affections.

As a young woman I had problems with my self esteem, but once I began a relationship with Christ I knew my worth in Him. I knew in my heart that He adored me, that I was precious to Him, and that despite what I may mess up, He loved me unconditionally.

When you look at your life on earth from a kingdom perspective, knowing that this life is but a breath, and eternity in Heaven is the ultimate goal, you can wonder what your purpose is in this short spell on earth. This morning the Lord reminded me that a main purpose is to develop my relationship with Him. It’s like a long distance courtship, in that I cannot look into the face of my Savior just yet, but it’s a wonderful experience falling deeper in love with Him before the wedding. One day the church will stand before the bridegroom, but we won’t stand at the altar as strangers in some arranged marriage. We will be in the presence of the one we have grown to love deeply. I can remember standing at the altar with my husband. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him; I was so enamored and full of happiness! Can you imagine the joy we will feel on our eternal wedding day?!

In my life on earth I am courting for the greatest relationship of all times. As I make my way through a fallen world full of sin and hardship, I am drawn into the strong arms of Jesus. He comforts me in my trouble. In earthly wedding vows they say things about promising to stick it out through good times and bad times, but many marriages will end in divorce because the couple can’t make it through the bad times together. In our relationship with the Lord we are afforded the bad news first, so to speak. We learn to love Him through the brokenness of this world, and in that we begin to understand all that He can be for us. We spend an average of 72 years learning how to love deeply and unconditionally, through richer or poorer, through sickness and health, and then we are given the ultimate wedding gift and feast as our reward. An eternity with the One who never left our side through it all. In that sense, it’s the furthest thing from long distance there is.

As for now, although I cannot stand before Him, I love Him. Although I can’t see His face, I feel His heart for me. Even though we exist on different realms, so to speak, He never leaves me or forsakes me. My goal in (this) life is to love Him deeper, and to raise my children the same. To show the world the light of His love, and to prepare for the wedding that I know is one day coming.

Raising a Challenging Child

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I sat in the bed watching some late night television, and as my middle daughter entered the room, I knew immediately something was wrong. She was a waif of a child, a tiny wisp, and somehow the slenderness of her face made her expressions all the more animated. A grimace crinkled her countenance, slowly becoming a mask of wailing, and I knew she was about to crumple into emotional tears.

“I’m stupid,” she howled!!

And my heart fell out. It literally came out of my body and dropped onto the floor. It had to of, but then it must have hopped back in, cause I could feel the ache of it all through my chest. I rushed to her.

I’m not normally one to jump up and rush to a crying child. I’m not trying to sound callous. Just being honest about parenting multiple, miniature, drama queens. I mean, it was no thing to hear a scream like a limb had been severed, only to discover the cause was something akin to a broken crayon. But this was different. My sweet, sensitive star was proclaiming insults over herself, but it was more than that. At her tone I had felt a sense of defeat in her voice, as if she was finally admitting to herself the negative connotations floating around out there.

As I reached her side she was confessing, “I spilled my drink! Again!”

A chocolate, protein drink (provided by me to help add a few ounces, at least, to her spindly frame) sat overturned in a puddle of sticky brown, soaking into the carpet, and streaked across the pages of her favorite, Bible story book. She was right about the again part. She had just spilled another of these pricy drinks in the kitchen less than a half hour earlier, but she was wrong about the “stupid” part. So I went about trying to convince her of that, while her dad mopped up thick, chocolate liquid from the hallway. Parenting was hard, man.

I mentioned as much to my husband later. I complimented his gentle handling of the situation, and he expressed my own heart in return, how hearing her ridicule herself had broken our hearts. Had we said things in the past to make her feel this way? Or to make her feel less? Probably. When you sign up for Parenting at the local job fair, no one explains how you can scar a human for life if you aren’t careful. I wasn’t one of these softie-types, who let the kids rule the roost. We believed in discipline, for sure, but we also believed in love. Every child needs both, but some need each piece in different doses.

I could correct my oldest and she’d try to argue with me about it. I could correct the youngest and she blew me off, or wrung out some fake tears of manipulation. The middle one, though. Each word she took to heart. Each word, I had learned over the years, had to be measured carefully. Like I had told my husband that same night, “she’s the child that makes you want to lose your cool the most, but she’s also the child who takes you losing your cool the hardest.”

She was my sensitive soul. She cried with pain when she felt she disappointed anyone. She was accident prone. Yet her tears were usually less about the pain of her mishap, and more about the disappointment she felt over the incident happening at all. Your human brain wanted to scream, “you klutz!” But your mother heart usually scooped in with a “it’s ok, baby. Accidents happen.”

I had learned when she was around three years old that I would need to handle her differently than I had her older sister. I could see it shining in her big, brown eyes. Something different, something spectacular. I had never seen a child so concerned with the feelings of others. I had never seen such a young child surrender her spot in line, her turn to others, or even the last piece of cake. She was a tiny thing, but somehow carried a heart bigger than the ocean. I knew God had created the most wonderful, caring spirit. I realized then that my job would be to cultivate that, and not to dim it. I wondered how many selfless souls had once existed in little bodies, but had suffered the world taking their shine away? I didn’t want to be responsible for that.

And so began the journey of parenting my special sprite. It. Was. Hard. It still is. Sometimes when she cries loudly over something I consider ridiculous I want to scream, “am I in an insane asylum, or something?!” I can’t promise I’ve never uttered those words. All I know is, God has a beautiful plan for this challenging child, and my main goal is to show her more of Jesus, and less of what I think she needs to be. Many times when I pray for her I ask the Lord not to change her, but to help me parent her the best way I can. I ask Him to give me wisdom, to help me lead her to becoming the young woman He has for her to be.

If she was in public school I’m pretty sure somewhere along the way a teacher would suggest medication for ADHD. She’s so hyper sometimes, full of energy and giggles. Sometimes I have to make her stop moving, look into my eyes and focus to hear the instructions I’m giving. I’m grateful we can provide tactile learning in an environment that stimulates her particular style of education. I would hate to see medication change the person she is.

She’s frightened easily. She cannot walk by Halloween decorations or the horror movie section in electronics. If she doesn’t like the “feeling” of a place, she’s ready to go home. If it’s too loud, she doesn’t want any part of it. Yet, in the quietness of our home or vehicle, she’s the loudest kid I know. The shy, timid one among strangers, but the class clown and comedian of family gatherings. I think her giggles could fuel a flight to the moon.

She’s a happy girl. She loves so passionately. She prays for strangers at night. She teaches me how to be compassionate to others, when I am lacking that part of me. She reminds us all how to be better human beings, each and every day. Every time I look at her I am in awe of her beauty, and each night I thank God that I get to be her mommy. I sometimes feel like I fall short in raising her, but I also cannot imagine a better blessing in life. A practice in patience, but also a treasure chest of never-ending joy. That’s the best way I know to describe raising a challenging child. I only pray I can do it well.

Can You Love as Adamantly as You Disagree?

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I guess you’ve noticed my drop in posting lately. I’ve taken a step back from social media and public opinion so I could focus on the Lord and His next steps for our family. Despite whether I’ve been writing the past couple of weeks or not, though, my inbox has kept steady with communication from strangers who have come across my writing. This has always been the case, and for the most part I receive lovely encouragement from others. Sometimes I do not. Lately I’ve gotten more ALL-CAPS angry emails than usual, and it hasn’t surprised me a bit considering the state of our country presently. It’s the main reason I took a social media hiatus, but that doesn’t stop my ‘contact me’ box from remaining open.

This past week I received an email from a stranger who had stumbled across a blog post I wrote back in early June 2020 questioning how Jesus might perceive the phrase Black Lives Matter. I could recall it being a well-received post from the people close to me who knew my heart, but as the article swept across the Nation it received mixed reviews. Or perhaps it’s just the angriest voices that speak the loudest. Regardless, the email I received from a man I did not know in reference to this post started by calling me a “daughter of Satan.”

I could go on with the remainder of the insults therein. I could even post it here with his name, but that would be me retaliating for my offense, and that’s not actually what I’m doing here. I don’t take offense. It only makes me sad. Sad that someone who doesn’t even know me took the time to follow a few links to my webpage, contact form, and pen a rage-filled paragraph for me. I guess you could say I’m getting pretty used to it, though. The night before I was labeled by another stranger a “heretic” and guilty of “leading people astray.” I think I’ve had my salvation questioned more in the past few months than ever in my life. But let’s get to the point, shall we.

Let’s put Facebook posts and blog articles aside. I mean, everyone has opinions, and anyone is free to start their own webpage and proclaim them. But, it’s like my husband has told me numerous times, you’ll never influence people with words you share on the internet as much as you will by the life you lead each day. And this was certainly true. I have come to realize this year that opinions will change as we grow. I mean, when I was looking for the link to the recent article I shared above for BLM, I found another I had written in 2016. It was very different. In fact, I think the gentleman who called me a child of Satan probably would have applauded my previous work, but that is neither here or there. My point is, opinions change, people change. Who you vote for in one election may alter drastically in later years, but it’s not our politics that impact the lives around us for Jesus. It’s how we live each day.

My last day of work at the hospital I’ve been at in Orlando, I sat with the most adorable nursing assistant ever. I love her, and she makes me laugh out loud, literally, with her amazing sense of humor. She’s a great tech, and I enjoyed working with her. As we spoke about my upcoming move I brought up the subject of racial injustice. It was a topic newer to me, but one the Lord had really stoked in my spirit this year. Once I opened up the dialogue, and knowing my heart like she did, she began to release her emotions freely. She cried while she expressed her fears to me for her nineteen year old son. She shared personal stories of his interaction with law enforcement, and she recounted a situation of when he didn’t come home at curfew, and her and her mom got frantic with the worry he had been pulled over and shot. She talked about how happy she was that he loved to play video/computer games because it kept him mostly in his room, where she could be certain he was safe.

I couldn’t understand her feelings here. I mean, I wanted to. I sympathized with her concerns as a mother, but I couldn’t fully empathize with her plight. I didn’t have to. I was the mother of four, white daughters. So what I did instead was listen as she spilled her emotions. Then I told her, “I can’t even begin to imagine how this feels, but I can tell you this. This isn’t right. You should not have to feel this way! I love you, and I stand by you in this fight.”

The thing is, I had been working alongside this woman for two years. She knew I was a Christian. She heard me listen to worship music while I charted, but she also knew I loved Jesus by my actions. She saw it in the way I treated my patients for years, but now, on my last day, I made it apparent to her that I loved her like Jesus would have me to. I saw her, and I held her concerns of value. I loved her just by listening. I loved her by offering my support.

I think that too often in this life we complicate things that are really quite simple. Like the Pharisees in the day of Jesus we focus on things that perhaps we should not. When Jesus and His disciples walked through a field the Pharisees attacked them for picking grain and eating it on the Sabbath. They were hungry, and they took of the bounty God had given. But the religious sect focused on the law (no work, or harvesting grain on Sunday) rather than feeding the need of others. I think that today, instead of choosing to walk with Jesus in that field of wheat, we’re sitting on the sidelines checking the boxes that keep us in the category of Christian according to religion. If we can say we support the right causes, vote the right color, and call out the really big sins, then we’re good. If we can attend services on Sunday we can check the box, but we don’t have to do much beyond that. We can neglect those who need us most. We can keep our Christian friends happy, but forget that it’s the sick who need a physician the most. Those are the words of Jesus, not mine. It was His response when the church leaders of the day ridiculed Him for hanging out with the wrong crowd.

I will be transparent here and tell you that when I got that email I was hurt. What’s the best way to try and cut a lover of Jesus? By questioning their salvation, or their dedication to Him. It seems that this is how fellow believers have disagreed with me lately, by calling into question my Christianity. But do you know who has never questioned it? The lost. I have crossed paths with many people who don’t live a life dedicated to the Lord, but they never question that I do. They learn of my Christianity by the cross I wear around my neck, by the music I listen to, by the scripture I post on social media, or by the words I say. They learn of my dedication to Jesus by the way I live my life each day, by the way I treat others, respond to adversity, and most importantly, by how I love.

I read the Bible a lot. Despite some comments from others telling me I need to read my Bible, I actually do. Like, I read it for hours a day, daily. I love the Word, I crave it, and I find it gives me peace when this world seems crazy. In my study of scripture I’ve never found the parts that state a specific political affiliation is required. I’ve never seen the part where Jesus pinpointed the top three sins of all time. I’ve never found the part that tells us to ridicule those with different opinions, or those who sin differently than ourselves. I do recall something about us all falling short, and I definitely remember a time or two where He instructed us to love others like ourselves. Even to lay down our lives for a brother.

Lay down your life for a friend (John 15:13). I used to think that meant dying physically so someone else could live, much like a civilian hero or soldier on the battlefield. And perhaps it does. But I also think it means metaphorically laying down your life, like, being able to lay down what the world thinks, the reputation of man, the opinion of those besides the Father. It means hanging out with tax collectors even when the Pharisees snub their noses. It means offering healing to those that some might leave bleeding on the side of the road (shout out to the Samaritans). It means standing up for what is right, even if it’s not popular opinion. It means demanding change even as people question something that only God can know. Like your heart motives. To lay down your life means to sacrifice for others, just like Jesus modeled to us. It means to love people you’ve never met, take the punishment for something you didn’t personally do, or humble yourself, even to death, albeit death of your presumptions.

I read an excerpt from Jared Byas, Love Matters More, that said, “Somehow we’ve duped ourselves into thinking that what we believe is more important than how we believe. Perhaps it’s time to remember that love matters more than just believing in God in our heads and that love is a verb.”

I wonder what would happen if we loved as well as we disagree? What if we decided to love others as much as we love our own opinion? What if we laid down offense, laid down our lives, and simply loved instead? Could we admit we have been wrong, admit others have been wrong, or try to be better today than we were yesterday? Maybe we could even throw off the labels we wear. We could decide that it’s not Democrat or Republican, so much as listen and learn. It’s not just liberal or conservative, but kindness and kingdom-thinking. Then we could remember that leading others to Jesus is more important than standing on the right side of a political battle or internet argument. Then we could remember that it’s our fruit of the spirit that will make us known as followers of Him, and certainly not the angry words we throw to a stranger.

Bullying in Christianity

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I found myself writing names on a piece of paper, with the full intention of later ripping it apart. It reminded me of something you’d be taught at a youth Summer camp, which wasn’t all together surprising considering the whole incident made me think of high school. The big difference, though, being that I was a forty-three year old woman, not a sixteen year old girl. Despite the age gap, the similarities were uncanny, and as I reflected on my teenage years, I realized I was again the victim of bullying.

As a girl I had experienced bullying by one of my peers, over a boy on the surface, but underneath due to much more pressing issues. Jealousy, self-esteem problems, and much more pain had led to the bully in school tormenting me. I wondered if pain was the cause of my current day bullying, and I tried to keep that in mind as my own heart was hurting. I remembered how hard it had been back in tenth grade. At the time I felt like the whole school was against me. No one talked to me, no one stood up for me. Just silent faces watching me walk down the hall alone. Oddly enough, that’s how I had felt last week.

As I found myself being attacked by sisters in Christ, I felt like that young woman again, head down, heart broken over supposed friends turning their back on me. I had been the victim of something I didn’t even know existed, until I found myself on the outside of the fray. Before, I had been a main member of the Christian Woman Club, but as my heart sought truth deeper than that of the world, my opinions began to conflict with that of my fellow Conservative friends. Before they had applauded my speeches, but that was when my words mirrored their own. It turns out that if you went off script, Christian women could be like a mafia family.

The key to being part of the Christian clique was to say the right things. You could speak as loudly as you wanted, as long as you spoke to popular opinion. It reminded me of the movie Mean Girls. You had to wear the right color, but it turns out it’s red, not pink, and definitely not blue. Blue was totally out.

As my mind had started to support the causes I felt the Lord leading me to champion, and as my heart of love questioned things that stood in contrast to compassion and kindness, I was met with opposition. Not by my enemies, but by my friends. Yet instead of talking it out, I found myself being shouted at. I was attacked by people I considered friends, and my Christianity questioned by people I had known over twenty years. You were allowed to proclaim yourself as a Christian if your opinions were exactly the same as the majority, but if you spoke anything different, forget about it. You got ousted from the club. So, if I disagreed with the politics, I obviously couldn’t believe in Jesus, and if I spoke love, it was called heresy. You could think, you just couldn’t think differently. You had to be in agreement on what sins specifically were the big, bad ones, and hush up about the seemingly insignificant ones. In other words, you were encouraged to read the Bible, but not so intently that you actually attempted to be like Jesus. That was way too much, and it went in opposition to things like standing up for Christian rights. Because it was good to stand up for the Lord; you just had to ignore the fact that you might have to stand on the backs of the other children of God to do it. Y’all, I don’t think God is proud about this at all. Actually, I think it makes Him sad.

Let’s just say for a moment, for sake of argument, that my ideas were bogus, that I was way off base. Call it backsliding, or whatever you wish. How do you think you should try and talk some sense into me? By attacking me, or by calling into question my salvation? Goodness. Who decided this was the way to go about it?!

After the last year, but especially the past week, I’ve sadly discovered that there’s a large amount of bullying in the Christian community. If you dare to think for yourself, allowing the Holy Spirit to speak to your heart, rather than Fox News, be prepared to be called the worst of all dirty words… a liberal. I have seen friends feel led to stand up for injustice, but be silenced by the bullies around them. I have seen friends try to walk in love, but be told they’re wrong for thinking that way. There’s a rhetoric that has to be repeated, and taken in as gospel. Funny thing? When you open your eyes and take a real look, it’s the furthest thing from the gospel there is. The bullies of Christianity are displaying behavior that is the furthest from Jesus there is. How is this furthering the Kingdom?

At the start of this post I mentioned writing down names on a piece of paper. You see, I found myself yesterday feeling down. My heart was broken, and I found myself thinking again and again about the hurt I felt, about the insults hurled against me. I realized that I couldn’t continue in offense, that I had to let the hurt go much like I had purged high school from my memory. I had to remember that I was in this world, but not of it. I had to remember that I wasn’t the names the world gave me, but that I was who my Father knew me to be. My salvation wasn’t based on who I voted for, but rather who I served. I served Jesus, not man. So I tore up the little piece of paper, and I took comfort in knowing that opinions are just as flimsy as that post-it note I threw into the trash.