I have been living a lie

This was written a week before a friend, and NOBTS faculty member, took his own life. While I may never know why he reached the point of such hopelessness, it made me consider how many times I have also chosen to abide in hopelessness. My prayer is that we, the Church, begin to strengthen our resolve to create such an environment that no one feels they are beyond the hope, mercy, and forgiveness of Jesus the Messiah.

I have been living a lie.

You heard correctly. I have been living a lie for several years now. This lie has been so pervasive that I have been tricked into believing the Matrix is real and it is good. At some point I fell down the rabbit hole and got lost in Wonderland, all the while thinking it was real.

Well, it’s not. Recently, reality slammed me square in the face and my whole sense of “reality” was shattered. Believe it or not, this is a good thing. A very good thing.

The lie is not one-dimensional, either. Oh no, it’s multi-faceted. But when you peel back the ogre-as-an-onion-like layers, you find one root lie at the very core:

“I am not good enough.”

That’s right. That’s the lie I have been living for quite some time. Stick with me here as I share a part of my most recent inner dialog:

“Why in the world did you think that was going to work? Did you really think they were going to like you? Did you really think that was your best work? It’s time to wake up. You will never be enough. You will never be good enough. You can never do it right. Square peg, round hole, my friend. You will never fit in on this campus. Why would they use you? You have nothing of value to offer. Why would those women want to be your friend? You have nothing to offer them. You will never be taken seriously in youth ministry because you are a woman. You are not needed. Your friendship is not needed. Your talents/gifts are not needed. Your time and Andy’s money are being wasted on your so-called education, because no one is going to want what you have to offer. No matter how hard you try, you are going to be a failure.”

The first problem is that the core lie is a relative concept. What is ‘good enough’? Who is the judge? What is the rubric? To whom am I being compared? What must I do to achieve the elusive concept? Is there a sliding scale? Can I reach a certain point/line that puts me within an acceptable limit? How can God ever use me if I'm not good enough? 

Here is the simple truth that refutes the heart of the core lie: "All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God...the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Jesus Christ...[he] is the way, the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through [him]...[who] came so they [we] may have life and have it to the full." (Rom. 3:23, 6:23; John 14:6, 10:10b) At no point in my life will I ever be "good enough" because it's not possible for man. Jesus lived the perfect life, became the perfect sacrifice, and rose because HE was MORE THAN "good enough". He fulfilled all of the requirement for the sins of man. My choice to believe in him has satisfied God's wrath towards me and therein secures my eternal status. Nothing more need be done in order for me to be good enough. However....

 

The second problem with this lie is its insidious nature. It is seductive. It is subtle. It sneaks in the back door of your mind and worms its way into your heart and soul. The false sense of being "good enough" leads you to focus on temporal things that have little to no meaning! It leads you to believe that man's opinion is greater than your status in Christ.  I fell victim to this lie at some point along the way and was defenseless against its assault. I’m ashamed to say that I have believed every part of its rhetoric. The inner monologue nabbed me hook, line, and sinker, altering my social life, my emotional stability, my confidence, and it has held me back from pursuing my dreams. I have lived out these lies for a long time and have been lulled into a mire of insecurity and complacency.

The ME that I remember charged after what she wanted, consulted people she trusted without fear of judgment, dreamed big dreams, tried new things, moved wherever God was leading her without fear, and so much more. This woman I see in the mirror is a mere shadow of that woman. She is timid and lazy, second guesses herself, crumbles under the slightest pressure, and consistently judges herself harshly if the slightest thing goes awry.

This is no way to live. This is not a life. This is a mere shadow of existence. It is not the life to which I’ve been called. It is a LIE. 

John 10 relates Jesus’ parable of the shepherd and his flock. The sheep followed the shepherd’s voice because they knew him. Jesus said that the sheep would never follow a stranger because they did not know his voice; in fact, they would run away from the stranger. The thief, or the stranger, “comes only to steal, kill, and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” (John 10:10) The beauty of this passage lies in the voices. In order for sheep to know their shepherd's voice that well, they must have known him from a very early age; they must have followed him closely for a long time. Even a slight change in timbre from a fake would cause them alarm and they would run away. What comes to mind is our relationship with the Great Shepherd. Do we know his voice so well that any other voice attempting to approach us is immediately ignored? Are we so attuned to his leadership that anything other than the genuine article simply will not suffice? Do we recognize his voice speaking life, hope, and security in him alone into our hearts?

The “voices” speaking hyperbole, vitriol, hate, despair, insecurity, and lies are not the voice of my Shepherd. In fact, such speech goes against his very nature; that of love, security, fullness, joy, etc. Jesus said it himself, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” The eternal life he brings is an abundant life. This is not a prosperity gospel heresy telling me I am to have my best life now. No, it is the gospel of a secure hope of spending eternity with the God who loves me personally and intimately. He died for me in order to make this possible; he loved me that much. Would a loving God then spew those lies so insidiously through my mind and my heart? No.

You know who would? The Father of Lies. The one who seeks to “steal, kill, and destroy” all of mankind. And for a while now, I have bought into his game. I plugged back into the Matrix. I hung out with the Caterpillar in Wonderland, allowing the vapors to lull me into a fall sense of complacency. 

The result has been a listless wandering, aching restlessness, and miserable wallowing. My soul slowly hardened to the calling God placed on my life almost 20 years ago. It became rigid in its trajectory, forgetting along the way that God’s journey for me has never been a straight path. In every direction God sent me, his obstacles challenged me, changed me, broke me, and molded me into something that looks slightly more like him. Why would this part of my journey be any different?

Having had the scales pulled back from my eyes, I’m revisiting the simple theology written on my cardboard testimony 4.5 years ago: From “Running like Jonah,” to “Running like Paul.”

Past...Present...Future

This past week I finally got a replacement phone (thanks to my thoughtful father-in-law) to tide me over until our upgrade in March. This may not seem like a big deal, but I've been fighting with my old "phone" for a year now.
As I was downloading some apps to new-to-me phone, I began to get frustrated at the different operating system and actually started to miss my old "phone"! In that brief moment I forgot that the old "phone" made up its own mind about when I would get a call or a text, it turned off repeatedly with no warning, apps took several minutes to load, and, when it came time to transfer info to the new phone, it completely denied the professionals access to its information! And yet, despite the enormous inconvenience in that moment, I missed that "phone" because it was familiar and safe.
I found myself grumbling for a moment and then it hit me what was actually happening. The past was inconvenient, inconsistent, and unreliable; but at least I knew what to expect. The present was untested, unfamiliar, and uncomfortable; therefore, I wanted to go back.
You might be thinking, "Girl, you've got too much time on your hands. It's just a cell phone. You'll get used to it."
Well in that same moment, it occurred to me that this is how we function most of the time - we either romanticize the past and desire to go back to the familiar b/c we at least knew what to expect, or we fantasize about the future and all of its possibilities. Rarely do we exist in the present. Ironically, that is the only time period in which we are capable of existing and we do not honor it for what it is: a gift (yeah, I went there).
Author Jim Elliot once said,

“Wherever you are, be all there! Live to the hilt every situation you believe to be the will of God.”

Why do we seem incapable of living as such? Embracing each moment as they come in anticipation of how God will use us? I'm not saying that looking back on the past is bad. Nor am I saying that looking forward to the future is futile. What I am saying is that we often focus on those moments more than we focus on the present and all it has to offer.

Let me give a prime example of how I have lived this way. This summer I had a project that needed to be completed by a certain day. I had recruited some of my students to help me and they threw themselves at it enthusiastically, albeit with numerous distractions. My approach was to plow through to get the project done b/c we had a deadline. Their approach was to have fun and enjoy us all being together in the process. As my frustration mounted, a moment came when a knife slipped off the table and the tip stabbed my big toe. Understandably, they freaked out; but all I could think of was how the stabbing resulted in jerking me out of my task-oriented mindset and reminded me to just enjoy being with these wonderful kids who actually wanted to hang out and spend time with me, no matter what we were doing. They were existing in the present and I joined them there, happily (after stemming the tide of blood that was coming out of my toe!).

That "stabbing" and the moment with my new phone have served to convict this borderline-Type-A new momma/masters student/would-be writer to try and live for the present as often as I am able. The future is coming no matter what I do and the past has already happened. 

My goal is striving to focus more often on the present and making those moments more intentional by "being all there" and enjoying the gifts they always present (get it;) ).

Being Jean and Wolverine

At lunch on Sunday, I was compelled to apologize for careless words I had spoken to my husband last week in the throws of a rare meltdown. Generally speaking I am calm, rational, and possess the ability to filter my emotions and thoughts. The filter looks like this:

"What do I know to be true about this situation?" "What do I know to be true about Andy?" "What do I know to be true about me?" "What external/environmental/situational factors are affecting my emotions right now?" "How do I want to respond?" "How can I respond that is more loving?" "How can I concisely communicate all of this to Andy?"

However, lack of sleep and academic strain wore down this filter and, thus, my rationale. I found myself downward-spiraling too far into my head (ladies, I'm sure you'll understand what I mean) and I spoke from that place.

Not good.

Being the "slow processor" that I am, it took me several days to filter through what happened, process the full implications, decipher what I should take away from it, and then determine how to communicate all of that to Andy in a concise manner.
(Yes, it took that long.)

Thankfully, I married a rational man who (though passionate) can be calm in the face of adversity and respond calmly. It was absolutely necessary for me to apologize and acknowledge that I had wronged him both in my words and my actions. But I was not prepared for his response.

In his calm, he acknowledged and affirmed my apology. He explained his view that men are structurally designed by God to be strong and endure physical strain. They are built to compartmentalize and are capable of setting their emotions aside in a moment in order to deal with a given situation.

He then took it a step further and explained that he sees situations such as these much like the scene when Wolverine kills Jean (Phoenix) in the movie X-Men: The Last Stand. At that moment, she was the embodiment of raw emotion and power, and Wolverine was calm and rational. He knew his role and held her in that moment. He did what had to be done while she was in that moment.

Now, please don't hear what Andy was not saying! By no means was he saying that a husband should kill his wife when she is in the midst of a meltdown! (No matter how much he may want to!)

Andy's point, rather, was that a man knows there are going to be difficult moments and man is built to withstand heavy loads.  When his wife is feeling a heavy burden and laying that on him, a man will stand there and accept it, just as a lighthouse withstands the waves from a storm. In those moments, she needs the freedom to release that pressure and he allows her that freedom becasue he is built to take that. In that moment he sets his desires aside to allow her that moment of release. He doesn't consider an out. He doesn't cut his losses because it's too hard and/or she's too "high maintenance." He stands his ground (just as Wolverine did) and rides it out with her. He makes the hard decision to absorb and not reflect the emotion back on her as opposed to another X-men moment in X-Men: First Class when Shaw demonstrates his ability to absorb energy and reflect it back on his opponents.

In the aftermath of the moment, he can then be the strength to revisit the driving force behind her needs and address the matter.

I am blessed with such a man. Our short courtship gave us little time to learn things about each other before marriage, but he has committed to love me NO MATTER WHAT.

One of my biggest pet peeves is the stereotype about how irrational women are and than our husbands are dullards that we must "mother" through our marriages.
It is a strong desire of mine that I not embody that stereotype.  Let's face it though, I am a woman. I am an emotional creature. My belief is that, just as men are built to carry physical burdens, women are built to carry emotional burdens. Our capacity for love, hate, fear, trust, compassion, intolerance, etc. is big and inconceivable for most men. (Hermione describes this quite accurately!)

Andy always says that it's up to me to either change the things I don't like about myself or to accept them. I wholeheartedly agree! I must accept that I am an emotional creature and that I was made to feel the gamut of emotions on a daily (if not hourly) basis. However, I must also choose to recognize when my emotions begin to take over and communicate this with him before they escalate out of control and I turn into Phoenix.

When that does happen (notice, I said when, because I'm human), Andy must also choose to bear those burdens in those moments and absorb the blow or reflect the damage back at me.

The key word in all of this is "choice."

Strength in Weakness

On a visit to my parents house last year, I was trying to do something that I was physically capable of handling on my own, but Andy said something so profound and so sweet that it still resonates with me today:

"I know you're strong enough, but can I please help you?"

This may not initially seem like a big deal, but for someone who was used to doing things on her own and learning how to take care of herself in as many ways as possible, it was most definitely a big deal.

Lately, I have been pretty sick and very dependent upon my husband to an extent that has stretched my sense of independence. He has catered to my needs, encouraged and fought for my rest, and stroked my brow to help me achieve much-fought for sleep. Everyday he goes to work and still cares for me when he gets home. Andy expresses his appreciation for my efforts at home and extols my academic efforts, as well. He brags on me and encourages me to pursue Yahweh's calling on my life. He is truly my helpmate.

In an even larger way, Andy's desire to relieve my burden demonstrates Christ to me. All too often, we strive to live out our lives on our own strength and under our own power. Pride gets in the way and shames any weaknesses that are a given in life. After all,

"I truly can do this on my own, for corn's sake! I took care of myself for years and learned how to do things without anyone's help. I was strong because I had to be strong. Who else was going to take care of me?!"

Yep. That was my mindset. Never mind the fact that Yahweh was my Sustainer.

I was independent and could do it on my own. 
               I was not weak. 
                            I could not be weak. 
                                          There is no room for weakness in the world.

Such fallacy is a dangerous message from the world.

 Check out what the Bible has to say about weakness:

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, 

for my power is made perfect in weakness.” 

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my 

weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest 

upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content 

with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, 

and calamities. For when I am weak, 

then I am strong. - 2 Cor. 12:9–10.

For time would fail me to tell of Gideon, Barak, Samson, 

Jephthah, of David and Samuel and the prophets—who through faith 

conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, obtained promises, 

stopped the mouths of lions, quenched the power of fire, 

escaped the edge of the sword, were made strong out of weakness, 

became mighty in war, put foreign armies to flight....And all these, 

though commended through their faith, did not receive 

what was promised, since God had provided something better for us,

 that apart from us they should not be made perfect. - Heb 11:32–34, 39–40.

Since then we have a great high priest who has 

passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God,

 let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest

 who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, 

but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, 

yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near 

to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy 

and find grace to help in time of need. - Heb 4:14–16.

Even our Messiah endured weakness during his time on earth in order to relate to us and give us the confidence to approach the throne of grace in our weakness that we may receive his strength.

"Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.” - Mt 11:28–30.

 

A yoke is a wooden contraption to ensure that two work animals walk parallel with each other in order to share the burden of plowing or pulling. In the Bible, a yoke is consistently referred to as parable for spiritual burden (Dt 28:48, Is 9:4, Hos 10:11, Ac 15:10). The weight of this burden was carried seemingly without a respite in sight. However, Jesus knew of the various yokes that were placed upon his people long ago and the self-imposed yokes they were bearing. When he came to serve as the sacrificial lamb, he desired for them to relinquish themselves of carrying the sole responsibility of their spiritual burdens and trust him as the Messiah for whom they had long-awaited. He desired to be their rest, their Sustainer, their yoke-carrier. All it took was for them to make that choice to trust him.

The same is true for us today. While I have given my life to Yeshua the Messiah, I must continually surrender to him any load that comes my way. The burdens they represent are far weightier than any he intended me to bear. It is up to me to surrender each burden and let him bear the load. Just as he bore the weight of the sin of world when he died on the cross as the final sacrificial lamb, was buried, and rose on the third day as the Savior of the world. As he said in Matthew 11:30, "For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

  Cast your burden on the LORD,
      and he will sustain you;
                  he will never permit
      the righteous to be moved. - Ps 55:22.

            I lay down and slept;
      I woke again, for the LORD sustained me.

- Ps 3:5.

My husband's words are so similar to the Savior's words (albeit, on a much more human level) and serve to remind me that my weaknesses and burdens do not have to be carried alone.  I only have to relinquish them to the throne of grace and take up his yoke in which I will find all the strength needed to sustain in this life.

"I know you're strong enough, but can I please help you?"

In Memorium

I wrote this blog this week, realizing that I had not written in a few months.  The content of the story is similar to my last post, but with a completely different focus. I hope you'll read it anyway!

Seven years ago this Thursday, my older brother Michael died in his sleep.  In the wake of this loss our family was forever changed. I was forever changed.

Michael was a typical older brother for me; he was my playmate in childhood and my friend in adulthood.  Even though we never lived near each other in adulthood, he was still my go-to guy and the standard by which I gauged any guy in my life. I adored my big brother. As a child, he was my protector. He was cool. He was rebellious. He was funny. He was savvy.  He pushed me to try new things. He challenged my fears and even mocked them to help me overcome them.

Michael was also a jerk (at times).

• He frequently made fun of my devotion to my faith.
• He often shared his exploits in the military with me (in great detail); despite how inappropriate such information was for a younger sister.
• Being an integral part of our family was not important to him. 
• He was not good at forgiveness, and never forgot a wrong.

Some may believe that this is a rather harsh way to describe him, but my journey  this past year has made me realize how important it is not to ‘romanticize’ my brother in his death and forget the full person that he was in life.  He was good and bad.  He was kind and cruel.  He was loving and spiteful.  All of these characteristics made up my awesome brother.

When he died, my whole worldview changed...

For the first time in my life:

·         I questioned my faith.

·         I was angry at God.

·         I became fatalistic.

·         The Bible no longer held any luster for me.

·         Church was not a priority.

·         I stopped doing ministry for the first few years after his death.

It is easy to say that the person I am today is nowhere near the person I was seven years ago.  And that’s not an altogether bad thing.  In the wake of his death, I found myself listless and directionless; numb with disbelief for months after.  And when the dam broke, it broke hard and fast.  I have an intimate understanding of experiencing face-to-the-ground-unable-to-breathe groaning where only the Holy Spirit could express my grief.

”…but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.” – Rom 8:26b

I had the blessing of being referred to a wonderful counselor who was present for my meltdown and he gave me the grace to let everything out, no matter how evil it seemed.  Randy told me something that rocked my whole spiritual world:

God is big enough to handle your anger. So let him have it.

Tell him everything that’s on your heart.  He already knows it, but he wants to you express it to him, no matter how base it may get.

Shout it from the mountaintops if you have to.  But do it.

He’s big enough for whatever you have to throw at him.

Man did I ever let it out! I went to the top of Lewiston hill and had a screaming match (one-sided, really) with God and let him have it.  And things came out that I never knew I was dealing with. 

It was hard, but it was healing.

It deepened my relationship with God to bare my soul to him without fear.

If God could handle everything I threw at him and still love me,

then this was a God I could get on board with again.

But the road back to his arms was not easy.  It has taken years for me to learn to trust God again.  For years I lived in fear. Every time the phone rang, my heart-rate skyrocketed.  Every time  my parents got sick, had surgery, or sounded serious when they called my mind jumped to the worst case scenario.

But here’s how God has changed me in the last year:

É       I have learned to trust God again in all circumstances because he has proven himself time and again that he would take care of me.

É       Living in fear and anxiety is no life.  Everyone dies.  This life and everything in it are temporary. And that’s okay!

É       Lastly, some very wise words from a pretty cool band:

Just hold on loosely but don't let go
If you cling too tightly
You're gonna lose control

            - Hold On Loosely by 38 Special

I miss Michael every day; some days more than others.  He was, and still is, my big brother.  I wish he could see me now.  I wish I knew he was proud of me.  His fervor for life and trying new things with abandon were infectious. 

He still inspires me to be brave and try new things.

(Like marrying the man of my dreams and

following a 15-year-long dream of going to seminary!)

On the borderline....

Something came to my attention today and I realized that I am swiftly approaching a borderline that can be either a healthy look inward or a outwardly destructive force.

Vague-much?

Background: 

When my brother died almost 7 years ago (SEVEN YEARS?! wow. Time has really flown.), it was in the aftermath of the death of a very close friend. 

After the initial numbness wore off, I was not a little angry at God and essentially told Him that He could take His 'religion' along with His 'calling' for my life and shove it.  I'd had enough.  He was taking every significant man from my life and I'd had enough.

Gone were my natural tendencies for optimism and trust.  Gone were my desires to pursue God with every fiber of my being.  The new norms were fatalism, fear, and anxiety.

A few months later, my dad got sick and almost died.  At that point I very much told God that if He took my dad, we were through.  Period.

After all, I had been a 'good girl' my whole life. I was obedient, compliant, pleasant, did what was asked of me, and lived my life for Him with abandon! Hadn't I earned the right to not have so much pain and loss in my life?

Bad, bad theology.

Thankfully, He truly is a loving God and demonstrated to me just how much He loves His children and how hard He pursues us through how staunchly my Idaho friends pursued me.  They lovingly pushed me back to church, back to fellowship with other believers, back to the Word of God, and they held my hand (and sometimes my head) as I waded through my grief/anger.

I carried my anger for a long time and eventually came to the conclusion that I must have done something pretty bad for God to take away so many people from me.

Bad, bad theology.

This past spring I took the class "Death, Loss, & Grief" withDr. Bozeman, a trusted professor and friend.  One day she said something so profound that it changed my whole life and my relationship with God.  Ready for it?

"Everybody dies."

I know, I know.  That's blunt and not a little harsh, but the reality is harsh.  We live in a broken, fallen world and it is because of this that everyone dies.  Michael died because he got sick. Jay died in a car accident.  Everybody dies.  

It is not vengeance. Or punishment.

Okay, a slight FAST FORWARD:

Today is a new day and marked the beginning of my third year here at NOBTS (THREE YEARS!! WHOA!).  I am so excited about this year, because it's one step closer to graduation and each semester has held new things for me.  Each year has had a 'theme' of some sort.

Year #1 - Learn to be married! Yeah. Who knew?  It doesn't come naturally!  It's work. Hard work. Rewarding work.  In marriage, every day you have to choose to die to self and surrender your spouse to God.  You have to surrender your relationship with them to God.  You have to choose to remember what brought you together and rejoice in that.  You have to choose to put their needs ahead of your own.  This is not carte blanche to become a doormat.  This is a choice to daily put someone else before yourself in order to glorify God.  

Andy was my gift from Jehovah-Jireh (God the Provider).  He was the answer to a prayer I prayed for 12 years.  He is not perfect.  But he is a daily reminder that God is faithful and He loves me.

Year #2 - Heal.  "Oh, my child. I got you."  I cannot even begin to describe the 'stuff' that Jehovah Rapha (God the Healer) has been working on in me this year.  He knew exactly where I was hurting, old wounds that had never quite healed, and pain that had been shoved down deep for too long.  He knew, and He went there with me...He went there and opened those wounds (some I had not even been aware of).  He brought Andy along on some of them; but mostly He brought me through them and began the work of healing them.  

Am I completely whole? NAH! He didn't decide to bring me all the way Home yet.  I still have work to do.  I still struggle with anxiety and fear.  I still have moments of doubt that Jehovah-Jireh, my Provider, is going to continue to hold me and guide me.  But oh, the joy that fills my soul when I look at my 'scars' and remember what He has brought me through.

Year #3 - What does this year bring? I don't know yet, but I'm excited!  

BACK to the PRESENT

Which is what brings me to chapel today and the whole point of this post!  (You thought I forgot, didn't you! ;))

Dr. Lemke read from James 3 today and, though I've probably read this passage a dozen times, something really stood out to me!  Check this out!

"Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. For we all stumble in many ways. And if anyone does not stumble in what he says, he is a perfect man, able also to bridle his whole body. If we put bits into the mouths of horses so that they obey us, we guide their whole bodies as well. Look at the ships also: though they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are guided by a very small rudder wherever the will of the pilot directs. So also the tongue is a small member, yet it boasts of great things. How great a forest is set ablaze by such a small fire! And the tongue is a fire, a world of unrighteousness. The tongue is set among our members, staining the whole body, setting on fire the entire course of life, and set on fire by hell. For every kind of beast and bird, of reptile and sea creature, can be tamed and has been tamed by mankind, but no human being can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people who are made in the likeness of God. From the same mouth come blessing and cursing. My brothers, these things ought not to be so."  James 3:1-10

This passage was directed to any Christian who might become a teacher.  Our tongues (no, not our physical tongues...rather, our words) are a powerful weapon! They can be used to tear down or to build up.  They can magnify God and honor Him or they can dishonor Him.  Just a simple word.

(Here's where I tie it all together!)

What a challenge for me! I have been teetering on the borderline of cynicism and apathy lately.  There is so much negative going on in the world, our country, in New Orleans, and even right here on our campus that it has been really easy to lose myself to the negative!  And with email, texting, Facebook, my blog, etc. available to me as an easy-access venue to spread whatever message comes to mind, my previous tendencies toward negativity have re-emerged over the summer.  

I found myself not caring about things or people as much as before. I found myself dwelling on the negatives in people instead of trying to see them as God sees them. I found myself dwelling on myself.  A lot.  

And that is dangerous.

This became very apparent to me from a simple reading of Scripture this morning.

So simple.

I can use my function as 'teacher' (in whatever capacity I am serving as a leader/teacher right now) to either build people up, glorify God, and share His word.

Or I can use them to tear down, belittle, mock, and vent whenever I'm offended or slighted.

Being the leader that Creator God made me, it is upon me to weigh my words...in whatever form I use them...BEFORE I use them.

To borrow the acronym from www.mygirltalk.org:

                 Is what I am saying, texting or typing:

                     True

                     Helpful

                     Important

                     Necessary

                     Kind?

 And I would add, "Does it glorify God?"  If it does not, then I do not need to say it.

My prayer is that by filtering my words through this lens, I can more readily follow Paul's admonition:

"Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you."  Phil 4:4-9

In doing so, I can run from the borderline of cynicism and apathy with the ability to think critically and to act wisely.

 SO LONG, BORDERLINE!