My twenty eight year-old self, looks back on my time in Master's Commission with an array of emotions. I've said this before, and I'll say it again, I do not regret my time there, but I wouldn't go back. The things I've learned, I am grateful for, but I am happy to have created a life outside of Master's Commission.
Hindsight is 20/20, I know, and often times we don't see clearly until we are farther removed from an experience, but as I recall some of the things we were asked to do, I wish I had my last twenties strength at nineteen, to say, "There's no way I'm doing that."
Our schedule's were packed to the brim, without the option to
decline an activity without the fear of guilt. There were several things we
were asked to do that were wildly uncomfortable to me. Things to which, I
should have said no.
Going on "Prayer Walks" was one of those activities.
I'll explain. There were afternoons where we would be broken up into groups of 4-5 and sent into poor and crime filled neighborhoods around Phoenix, and were told to knock on peoples' doors and ask them if they needed prayer for anything. Not much different than any other religious group knocking on your door. I cringed every time I saw "Prayer Walk" on the schedule, knowing what my afternoon would consist of. While some others were fine with knocking on the door of a stranger, I was relieved every time there wasn't an answer. Every group I was ever in would take turns between each group member with who would be doing the talking. I was always very happy not to be the one talking. I guess the whole thing made me squirm a little. I may have physically participated in the "Prayer Walks," but I can't say that it was something I jumped into with both feet mentally, emotionally, or spiritually.
I have had some thoughts swirling in my head about why "prayer walks" brought me so much discomfort, but I posed the question to a facebook group I'm in, in hopes that they could help me articulate better what my hesitancy with them was. Some of the other group members were also in Master's Commission, and I deeply valued their thoughts. The following is what I came up with after chatting with them, and putting my thoughts together.
First and foremost, safety was the hugest issue. Often times the staff members would send us 35-40 minutes away from where we were living, into areas that were unfamiliar, very poor, and considered high risk for crime, to talk to people we had never met, and would likely never speak to again. They never joined us, themselves. I don't know how well thought through these "prayer walks" were, or what the intended outcome was supposed to be, but I felt like it was irresponsible to send us to those places without much support, or without a better long term plan for those communities. I personally never experienced anything traumatic, but I was always on high alert, and hated the anxiety that swelled up in me during our walks. I distinctly remember feeling so relieved when we reached the end of our section of homes, and headed back to the car. I know that sounds horrible, but truly, I couldn't wait to be done.
Beyond the safety issue, I realized I was fighting the feeling that we were invading peoples' lives. Prayer is deeply personal. Most of the time the things that we ask for prayer about are private and very close to home. I felt like it wasn't fair to knock on someone's door and ask them to give us personal information, no matter how well-intended it may have been. Of course someone has the option to open their door or not, but I was very uncomfortable even forcing someone to make that choice. Though I believe that prayer is very powerful, I also believe that cultivating relationships with people first is far more important. If I am going to ask someone to pray for me, I want follow up, I want questions about how things are going, I want someone to bear my burden with me, and that happens through relationships, or at least some measure of consistency. There is no way we could have done that for these people, so I just felt like a fraud, pretending to care, when I knew there wasn't much I was going to be able to do.
One of my friends who participated in the conversation, and attended Master's as well, summed up this issue for me really well. He said...
"Although
I can't say that the Bible would be AGAINST doing those prayer walks, I
certainly can't point to a Biblical situation where something like that
was normal. It seems that most of the time, especially with Paul, the
method was to go to an area, learn the culture, and then start
participating in the often public dialogue in order to effectively
preach the Gospel, and the growth of the church would start that way in
that particular area.
Miracles
and prayer and stuff like that usually were secondary focuses, and
seemed to be happening in order to lend power and legitimacy to the
message itself.
So
perhaps the Master's Commission way in doing these prayer walks was
focusing on something that is really only secondarily important."
Amen to that. Truly, I couldn't have said it better myself. It seemed to me that the most emphasis was often on the secondary things, like my friend said, and we were skipping the important ground work that needs to be laid in order for us to have the relational currency to even ask to be let into the life of another. These "prayer walks" seemed to be a "get in and get out" type of mission, instead of "let's take this community under our wing, and get to know their needs" type of mission. I believe the latter would have had a more lasting affect. I also believe we could have helped these people with tangible, material
items they were desperate for like food, or laundry soap. Not that we never did for people, but consistency was key, and that was lacking. Prayer is
important, but looking back, these families needed their basic needs
met, not someone just to pray, then leave. Plus with our schedules dictated for us, there wasn't even much opportunity to take the time to do that, often, even if we wanted to. Or at least that was my perspective.
Lastly, I am most angry at myself. I'm angry that I didn't have the inner strength at that point in my life to say "no," even if there would have been consequences. I wish that I would have had more conviction to say that this wasn't something that I was comfortable with. The program was not necessarily set up in a way that you could say no to anything, but I wish I would have anyway. Standing up for myself and what I feel convicted by, is probably one of the best learning experiences I had there- not because I did that well, but because I didn't. I realized the consequences of not taking care of myself, and have been on a journey of doing that for the last 7 1/2 years. Speaking truth to myself is one way to take care of myself, and that is why I write about my time in Master's Commission.
I've realized that building relationships and deeply loving people is what brings about the most healing and change in people. I think these "prayer walks" would have been far more effective in a community that we were actively involved in, not just around for a day. That's the entire point to this post. Relationships matter. Relationships are essential for these type of things, and relationships are what will last.
My stint in Master's Commission took a lot out of me. The decision not to stay for a third year, and start my life with Bobby, was one of the best decisions I/we could have made. I don't have any sort of hate for Master's Commission, for I do believe that the intentions were good, but the best way that I could take of myself at that time, was to start again with an open mind and move forward to a new way of thinking. Without my time there, I wouldn't have had a reason to think differently. I wouldn't know freedom like I know it now. For that, I am strangely grateful.
Thank you to all of the friends who participated in the conversation earlier. Your thoughts helped me put mine together, and made me feel like I have a reason to keep speaking my truth. I'm glad to know you.
Tuesday, November 20, 2012
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
God Doesn't Give Us More Than We Can Handle- Really? (fyi Parenthood Spoiler Alert!)
Do you watch "Parenthood?" If you don't, you should, it's worth every minute of your time.
SPOILER ALERT- I TALK ABOUT RECENT EPISODES!
There is a character in the show that is fighting cancer and it's been a main storyline the last few weeks. I can't say enough about how well-acted this show is. You feel like you are in the middle of each character's complexity. Especially this one.
Something a character said, struck me.
In reference to his wife's cancer, Adam, her husband said this to his brother...
"I walked outside and our neighbor said, 'Remember, God won't give you more than you can handle.' Is that supposed to help me watch my wife suffer?"
And I thought, "My question exactly."
That phrase has never sat well with me. If you really play that out, it implies God is the one who is responsible for our suffering- that he orchestrates it. If he gives us the suffering, then he ceases to be loving. Those words mean that God gives us pain and hardships since he can, just because he thinks we can handle it. Some would be rebuttal with, "Well, God is using it to bring Himself glory." My response to that is this... Don't you think that there are other ways He can get glory, than by causing us to suffer? Certainly He is more creative than that. Doesn't that make God so manipulative, so cruel, and so unloving? Do we really and truly think that God WANTS people to have cancer, wants people to go through the pain of divorce, wants women to struggle with infertility, wants us to experience loss? When we say, "God doesn't give you more than you can handle," to me, that's exactly what you're saying- that God wants "this."
Truth is, we can't handle much, and that's precisely why Jesus lived and died.
I realize that when the phrase is said it's meant to be well meaning, and a source of comfort for others or for self, but Adam in Parenthood said it best when he said, "is that supposed to help me watch my wife suffer?" Regardless, of the source or reason of pain, it's still there, and you still have to walk through it. To give pat answers, only diminishes the current suffering or emotion of confusion and pain.
Can comfort be found in the midst of suffering? I believe so. But, I wouldn't want to take comfort in the one who is causing my pain, confusion, or hardship. I want to run to someone who will sit and listen, and won't try to explain away how I feel. I want someone who will help me bear it.
I carry hope that God is truly that way, and not the author of my suffering.
SPOILER ALERT- I TALK ABOUT RECENT EPISODES!
There is a character in the show that is fighting cancer and it's been a main storyline the last few weeks. I can't say enough about how well-acted this show is. You feel like you are in the middle of each character's complexity. Especially this one.
Something a character said, struck me.
In reference to his wife's cancer, Adam, her husband said this to his brother...
"I walked outside and our neighbor said, 'Remember, God won't give you more than you can handle.' Is that supposed to help me watch my wife suffer?"
And I thought, "My question exactly."
That phrase has never sat well with me. If you really play that out, it implies God is the one who is responsible for our suffering- that he orchestrates it. If he gives us the suffering, then he ceases to be loving. Those words mean that God gives us pain and hardships since he can, just because he thinks we can handle it. Some would be rebuttal with, "Well, God is using it to bring Himself glory." My response to that is this... Don't you think that there are other ways He can get glory, than by causing us to suffer? Certainly He is more creative than that. Doesn't that make God so manipulative, so cruel, and so unloving? Do we really and truly think that God WANTS people to have cancer, wants people to go through the pain of divorce, wants women to struggle with infertility, wants us to experience loss? When we say, "God doesn't give you more than you can handle," to me, that's exactly what you're saying- that God wants "this."
Truth is, we can't handle much, and that's precisely why Jesus lived and died.
I realize that when the phrase is said it's meant to be well meaning, and a source of comfort for others or for self, but Adam in Parenthood said it best when he said, "is that supposed to help me watch my wife suffer?" Regardless, of the source or reason of pain, it's still there, and you still have to walk through it. To give pat answers, only diminishes the current suffering or emotion of confusion and pain.
Can comfort be found in the midst of suffering? I believe so. But, I wouldn't want to take comfort in the one who is causing my pain, confusion, or hardship. I want to run to someone who will sit and listen, and won't try to explain away how I feel. I want someone who will help me bear it.
I carry hope that God is truly that way, and not the author of my suffering.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
This Election Season
What we believe, and how we believe it, is powerful. Our belief can either open doors or build walls. No, I'm not talking about believing the "right" thing, but more how what you believe is lived out. "Right" can be subjective. There is more "gray" than black and white.
In lieu of the upcoming election, with all the talk and information being throw at us, I wanted to take this opportunity to speak about where my heart is during this time.
There's no doubt that politics can get people heated, and bring out the fire in some. I often think that how we communicate and act in regards to politics, is like a magnifying glass for our hearts. The way we treat those who have different opinions, and how we choose to speak about one another during an election season can say a lot about a person. Being passionate about an issue or position is a good thing, but it's how we communicate what we stand for, that matters.
Here's what I know. In a few weeks, the political dust will settle, and no matter how you voted, and who/what does or doesn't win, we will remain who we are, and we are going to have to live with what we've said and done during these last few months of intensity.
So, what becomes important then? It's how you love in the midst of disagreement. It's how you respond if/when you don't get the outcome you hoped for. It's how you give grace to those who are different than you.
No amount of rules or regulations, or a single term of a President, is going to solve much, because the problem and the solution, all in one, is the heart of people...and that can't be legislated. Laws have never, and will never get to our core, they only regulate behavior. So, let's look at people more than the way they vote, but for who they are.
I am grateful to live in a nation that lets us give our opinion, and exercising that freedom is a privilege. It doesn't matter how you vote, though, if your words and actions are filled with venom, because that says more about you than what you mark on a ballot every four years.
Therefore, let's walk next to each other with open hearts, open minds, and open hands. Lets embrace one another as the unique individuals we are, not push each other away because we may be members of different parties, or supporters of certain issues (whatever they may be). I think there is more to learn, than to fear.
Love is what matters at the end of it all.
Myth of a Christian Nation- Gregory A. Boyd
Eastlake Community Church- Ryan Meeks
In lieu of the upcoming election, with all the talk and information being throw at us, I wanted to take this opportunity to speak about where my heart is during this time.
There's no doubt that politics can get people heated, and bring out the fire in some. I often think that how we communicate and act in regards to politics, is like a magnifying glass for our hearts. The way we treat those who have different opinions, and how we choose to speak about one another during an election season can say a lot about a person. Being passionate about an issue or position is a good thing, but it's how we communicate what we stand for, that matters.
Here's what I know. In a few weeks, the political dust will settle, and no matter how you voted, and who/what does or doesn't win, we will remain who we are, and we are going to have to live with what we've said and done during these last few months of intensity.
So, what becomes important then? It's how you love in the midst of disagreement. It's how you respond if/when you don't get the outcome you hoped for. It's how you give grace to those who are different than you.
No amount of rules or regulations, or a single term of a President, is going to solve much, because the problem and the solution, all in one, is the heart of people...and that can't be legislated. Laws have never, and will never get to our core, they only regulate behavior. So, let's look at people more than the way they vote, but for who they are.
I am grateful to live in a nation that lets us give our opinion, and exercising that freedom is a privilege. It doesn't matter how you vote, though, if your words and actions are filled with venom, because that says more about you than what you mark on a ballot every four years.
Therefore, let's walk next to each other with open hearts, open minds, and open hands. Lets embrace one another as the unique individuals we are, not push each other away because we may be members of different parties, or supporters of certain issues (whatever they may be). I think there is more to learn, than to fear.
Love is what matters at the end of it all.
Myth of a Christian Nation- Gregory A. Boyd
Eastlake Community Church- Ryan Meeks
Monday, September 17, 2012
The Dating Idol
Imagine that you lived in a cookie factory, so you could learn the cookie making process. You spent your days roaming the factory admiring how these cookies were made. Every morning you would start the day by watching the staff make the dough, and get the cookies ready to be baked. Then, mid-afternoon, you'd see all the cookies being taken in and out of the oven. The smell was intoxicating. At night, after the cookies cooled, the milk was poured and the cookies sat on the counter tops, ready to eat. You could practically taste the cookie even though you hadn't even put one near your mouth. It seems like such a wonderful picture doesn't it? Well imagine now, that there are lots of people closely trailing behind and around you eating cookies, saying, "You can't have any of these cookies until later. I know you live here, watch them be made, and smell them everywhere, but you absolutely cannot eat these cookies, because you probably couldn't handle the amazing flavor. Boy, do they taste good though. Oh and if you do eat one too soon, you'll explode. But wow, these are the best cookies I've ever had." Those cookies would become the only thing you wanted. And waiting until you could have one, while watching them be made, would be extremely tempting. They would be the only thing you thought about. Learning the art of cookie making would no longer be your focus; eating a cookie would.
Anyone who entered Master's Commission knew full well that they were going to be asked to refrain from dating, and I was no exception. At the beginning of the year, I willingly signed the "covenant" that all of the first year students were required to sign. In short, the "covenant" was a promise and commitment to spend the next nine months focusing solely on your relationship with God... oh, and abide by all their rules. The "no dating your first year of Master's Commission" rule was the biggest focus and therefore received the most emphasis. It was also a rule that I assumed would be easy to live by since I had stayed away from dating anyway.
Just for kicks, some of the rules included...
1. No talking on the phone past 11:00- even to your family. Unless you got permission from your house leader.
2. Strict 11:00pm curfew.
3. No hanging out in even numbers of guys and girls.
4. No talking on the phone with the opposite sex for more than 5 minutes.
5. NO DATING!
You don't have to tell me how ridiculous those rules were. Believe me, I know.
The first two months of the program went great. I followed those rules in my sleep. Then I met Bobby, and I knew that the remainder of the year was going to be tough. It didn't take me long to fall in love with him, though I didn't admit it to myself for at least four or five months. I noticed that I had feelings for him in early December when he went on a mission trip with a group and I felt his absence heavily. I had never missed someone like that, and I knew I was in trouble. It was the first time in my life that I actually wanted to be with someone, and the only time that I couldn't. We kept our covenant the entire year, not breaking any of the rules set before us, but it was brutal. Bobby and I often look back and laugh, saying that if we didn't have the no dating rule, we would have been dating by Christmas. Or that we should have just secretly dated. From the start, we just knew that we wanted to be together.
From the time that I started to care for Bobby, the word "covenant" quickly became synonymous with the word bondage, for me. It was used about 456236574945 a day to remind me of what I couldn't have. For someone who was already hyper conscious of rules and boundaries, no reminders were needed. I put enough pressure on myself. My first year was no longer about getting closer to God, it was about waiting out the time until I could be honest with how I felt. "Covenant" meant that I had to stare at what I couldn't have. It meant temptation was thick. It meant I had to suppress. The bottom is line is that I became a slave to the rules. I spent more time feeling guilty for caring for Bobby, and asking myself if I had followed the rules perfectly for fear of some impending doom, than I did building the kind of relationship with God that I thought I had come there for. The rules and dating became my idol.
This brings me to the cookies. The cookies in the story, were dating in Master's Commission. We were told day in and day out that we could not date, and that if we did, our marriages wouldn't be blessed. But here's the crazy thing...what did they think would happen when you stick two hundred 18-25 year old students together in a controlled bubble? People are going to connect. People are going to lean on each other for survival, and for sanity. Dating was like the cookies. Don't date, but let's all live in the same apartment complex. Don't date, but let's all do ministry together. Don't date, but watch how others date because they're second and third year students and are clearly more ready. All any first year student wanted to do and talk about was dating. The precise thing we weren't "supposed" to be focusing on that first year, became the main thing that was talked about the entire year by staff and students alike. Dating was everywhere. Dating was our end game- or at least being able to have a normal conversation with someone. I may not have technically broken my covenant, but I was definitely practicing idolatry.
Here is the point to this entire post, and what I've learned through this. An attempt to set students up for a pure experience with God, turned in to a breeding ground for the opposite. It's one thing to choose not to date based on your own preferences, but to make it forbidden, yields very different results. The insane and unnecessary amount of control that was in place, practically threw people in each others' arms. The more you try to control an environment and those in it, the more you create a ticking time bomb. I think that not allowing students to date actually caused more harm than good. The "no dating" policy left you with idea that you cannot be close to God and care for someone simultaneously. That attraction is a bad thing. It left you thinking that if you did care for someone while you were under this covenant, that you had committed an unforgivable sin. It left you feeling like you needed to squelch desire. It left you feeling guilty and ashamed. It left you feeling like a failure. I spent most of my first year trying to fight the way I felt for Bobby because I was under this umbrella of rules, and I know that was not healthy. Who has the right to tell me (or anyone for that matter) not to love another, or say that God would withhold blessing from me because of that? They may have been trying to stop the craziness that dating can cause, but in turn they created a whole new monster- one of legalism, which produced guilt, shame, and secrecy. Letting students date would be way less destructive.
I truly believe God saw and knew how my heart was aching my first year. Not just because I had begun to care for Bobby and had to wait to be with him, but because of the oppression I felt I was under. He graciously walked with me, and loved me through a very difficult and confusing year. Bobby and I spoke the night of "graduation" and have been inseparably since. Not perfect, but fully committed. Because I love Bobby, I've found that loving another is beautiful. It opens doors you didn't even know you had. Love makes us do things we wouldn't have done otherwise. Love illuminates parts of you that have need light. Love gives you strength to walk through any valley. Love gives you hope. Loving another magnifies the Greater love that created us. Love saves. I have been with Bobby for about 8 1/2 years, and because I have loved him, I have experienced the vastness of God's love. Now, I don't even care that I loved him during a time where I "wasn't supposed to," because loving him that year ultimately showed me more about God than anything else did.
In every fiber of my being, I believe that Christ died to set us free. In the last year and a half I have experienced that freedom deep within my soul, and because of that, I can recognize times in my life where I was in deep bondage and may not have fully known it. I'm discovering my first year in Master's Commission was one of those times. I'm speaking about it to bring myself more freedom. The bottom line is anything that causes you to jump through hoops, and follow a set of standards, as the means to getting closer to God, is bondage and idolatry because they aren't Christ them self. You don't need rules and regulations to have a deeper relationship with God- you need desire. And loving someone doesn't make you desire God less. You need love. I learned about God's love for me in Master's Commission because I loved Bobby, not because I followed every rule that was set before me. Under a covenant or not, I can't see how caring for someone is a bad thing. My covenant threw me into loving Bobby (that, and he's quite the looker.) I know it sounds ironic, but that's exactly how it happened. And cookies are delicious.
Anyone who entered Master's Commission knew full well that they were going to be asked to refrain from dating, and I was no exception. At the beginning of the year, I willingly signed the "covenant" that all of the first year students were required to sign. In short, the "covenant" was a promise and commitment to spend the next nine months focusing solely on your relationship with God... oh, and abide by all their rules. The "no dating your first year of Master's Commission" rule was the biggest focus and therefore received the most emphasis. It was also a rule that I assumed would be easy to live by since I had stayed away from dating anyway.
Just for kicks, some of the rules included...
1. No talking on the phone past 11:00- even to your family. Unless you got permission from your house leader.
2. Strict 11:00pm curfew.
3. No hanging out in even numbers of guys and girls.
4. No talking on the phone with the opposite sex for more than 5 minutes.
5. NO DATING!
You don't have to tell me how ridiculous those rules were. Believe me, I know.
The first two months of the program went great. I followed those rules in my sleep. Then I met Bobby, and I knew that the remainder of the year was going to be tough. It didn't take me long to fall in love with him, though I didn't admit it to myself for at least four or five months. I noticed that I had feelings for him in early December when he went on a mission trip with a group and I felt his absence heavily. I had never missed someone like that, and I knew I was in trouble. It was the first time in my life that I actually wanted to be with someone, and the only time that I couldn't. We kept our covenant the entire year, not breaking any of the rules set before us, but it was brutal. Bobby and I often look back and laugh, saying that if we didn't have the no dating rule, we would have been dating by Christmas. Or that we should have just secretly dated. From the start, we just knew that we wanted to be together.
From the time that I started to care for Bobby, the word "covenant" quickly became synonymous with the word bondage, for me. It was used about 456236574945 a day to remind me of what I couldn't have. For someone who was already hyper conscious of rules and boundaries, no reminders were needed. I put enough pressure on myself. My first year was no longer about getting closer to God, it was about waiting out the time until I could be honest with how I felt. "Covenant" meant that I had to stare at what I couldn't have. It meant temptation was thick. It meant I had to suppress. The bottom is line is that I became a slave to the rules. I spent more time feeling guilty for caring for Bobby, and asking myself if I had followed the rules perfectly for fear of some impending doom, than I did building the kind of relationship with God that I thought I had come there for. The rules and dating became my idol.
This brings me to the cookies. The cookies in the story, were dating in Master's Commission. We were told day in and day out that we could not date, and that if we did, our marriages wouldn't be blessed. But here's the crazy thing...what did they think would happen when you stick two hundred 18-25 year old students together in a controlled bubble? People are going to connect. People are going to lean on each other for survival, and for sanity. Dating was like the cookies. Don't date, but let's all live in the same apartment complex. Don't date, but let's all do ministry together. Don't date, but watch how others date because they're second and third year students and are clearly more ready. All any first year student wanted to do and talk about was dating. The precise thing we weren't "supposed" to be focusing on that first year, became the main thing that was talked about the entire year by staff and students alike. Dating was everywhere. Dating was our end game- or at least being able to have a normal conversation with someone. I may not have technically broken my covenant, but I was definitely practicing idolatry.
Here is the point to this entire post, and what I've learned through this. An attempt to set students up for a pure experience with God, turned in to a breeding ground for the opposite. It's one thing to choose not to date based on your own preferences, but to make it forbidden, yields very different results. The insane and unnecessary amount of control that was in place, practically threw people in each others' arms. The more you try to control an environment and those in it, the more you create a ticking time bomb. I think that not allowing students to date actually caused more harm than good. The "no dating" policy left you with idea that you cannot be close to God and care for someone simultaneously. That attraction is a bad thing. It left you thinking that if you did care for someone while you were under this covenant, that you had committed an unforgivable sin. It left you feeling like you needed to squelch desire. It left you feeling guilty and ashamed. It left you feeling like a failure. I spent most of my first year trying to fight the way I felt for Bobby because I was under this umbrella of rules, and I know that was not healthy. Who has the right to tell me (or anyone for that matter) not to love another, or say that God would withhold blessing from me because of that? They may have been trying to stop the craziness that dating can cause, but in turn they created a whole new monster- one of legalism, which produced guilt, shame, and secrecy. Letting students date would be way less destructive.
I truly believe God saw and knew how my heart was aching my first year. Not just because I had begun to care for Bobby and had to wait to be with him, but because of the oppression I felt I was under. He graciously walked with me, and loved me through a very difficult and confusing year. Bobby and I spoke the night of "graduation" and have been inseparably since. Not perfect, but fully committed. Because I love Bobby, I've found that loving another is beautiful. It opens doors you didn't even know you had. Love makes us do things we wouldn't have done otherwise. Love illuminates parts of you that have need light. Love gives you strength to walk through any valley. Love gives you hope. Loving another magnifies the Greater love that created us. Love saves. I have been with Bobby for about 8 1/2 years, and because I have loved him, I have experienced the vastness of God's love. Now, I don't even care that I loved him during a time where I "wasn't supposed to," because loving him that year ultimately showed me more about God than anything else did.
In every fiber of my being, I believe that Christ died to set us free. In the last year and a half I have experienced that freedom deep within my soul, and because of that, I can recognize times in my life where I was in deep bondage and may not have fully known it. I'm discovering my first year in Master's Commission was one of those times. I'm speaking about it to bring myself more freedom. The bottom line is anything that causes you to jump through hoops, and follow a set of standards, as the means to getting closer to God, is bondage and idolatry because they aren't Christ them self. You don't need rules and regulations to have a deeper relationship with God- you need desire. And loving someone doesn't make you desire God less. You need love. I learned about God's love for me in Master's Commission because I loved Bobby, not because I followed every rule that was set before me. Under a covenant or not, I can't see how caring for someone is a bad thing. My covenant threw me into loving Bobby (that, and he's quite the looker.) I know it sounds ironic, but that's exactly how it happened. And cookies are delicious.
Friday, September 7, 2012
A Master's Commission Experience: Scripture Memory
For whatever reason, I'm feeling honest this week. Not just generally
honest, because I try to be as transparent as possible in all my posts,
but specifically honest about certain things I experienced through the program, Master's Commission, that I was in for two years.
I was in the program from October 2003-May 2005. I am now seven years removed from being a part of MC and it has taken me about that long- and still going, to detox from my experience there. There are certain things that have been more quickly sifted though, and others that continue to take years to unravel.
I learned a lot from MC, but not in the ways you would think. What I anticipated being an experience that would draw me closer to God, and give me a good foundation for adult faith, turned into the exact opposite. I learned what I don't believe about God, what I don't buy in the church world, and what I will not be a part of. You couldn't pay me enough money to go back there, but I also don't regret going. In hindsight, I see that going to MC was the beginning of my redefinition of faith. Walking through the extremes of that place, gave me part of a perspective that I am grateful for today, even if the means of getting that perspective weren't how I anticipated. Sometimes that's how it goes, though.
Starting to tell my stories about the program are part of my ongoing process of self-discovery, not an attempt to hurt anyone who has attended or works for/at MC. I've realized that summing up my experience in one post is impossible, for there are so many different pockets, facets, and corners that make up the whole of my time there. The best I can do is speak to aspects of that program that are directly related to what I'm feeling and thinking about in the present. Maybe over time, as I share more, a bigger picture about MC will be developed for you to see. For now though, I'll share my experiences singularly, specific to a current thought or idea.
So, here I go.
One perspective I hold to now, that is different than what I experienced in MC, is how scripture works. We would spend hours upon hours studying for our scripture tests. The goal at the end of the year being that each first year student would have 400 scriptures memorized to always have God's word "hidden in your heart," and easily accessible in any circumstance. Lucky for me, I have a great memory, and truthfully didn't struggle with this part of the program at all. I always got 100% and finished rather quickly. After each test, I'd pat myself on the back, and then go get a milkshake. At the end of the year when we had to write down all 400 scriptures for our final test, it was a cinch for me, no problem at all. I finished under the time allotted, and moved on with my day. I was obviously changed by those scriptures (said with heavy sarcasm).
Ask me today, though, how many I remember from that time, and I could hardly tell you five of them. I have a theory about why. It was the same as memorizing a bunch of information in High School to pass a test. You remember it at crunch time, then leave it behind because it doesn't matter to you. The only reason I was memorizing scripture was to pass a test. To get to the next thing. To say, "I did it," and check it off my list of accomplishments for that year. I imagine I'm not the only one who felt that way. What I've found, is that information is useless if there isn't significance attached to it. That includes scripture. Was it horrible that a requirement of being first year student in MC was to memorize scripture? No. But the problem is, I'd venture to say, little to none of us hold all of those words dear to us today, because it was set up as a test- as a hoop to jump through to "graduate," not connected to things that were important to us. We were being tested like we were in school; we just wanted to finish. It became part of the motions. We remained unchanged.
Now here is the flip side... ask me if I have scriptures that mean something to me, and I'd give an emphatic, yes. But are they attached to my time at MC? No. They are attached to my real life experiences and moments that have shaped me. The words that I hold dear to my heart, in the present, are ones that remind me of the goodness of God when I've needed to be reminded of that. They aren't attached to pleasing staff members or getting a pat on the back. My favorite verses are ones that have helped me when I've been at my lowest, my most anxious, and my weakest. My favorite verses are ones that express words that make my soul move. They are the scriptures that have come to mind when I am taking a walk and start to ponder the intricate beauty of nature, and know that the creator of those leaves, flowers, and seasons, cares for me even more. They are the scriptures that tell me when I am in the middle of a very dark moment, that peace is available to me. They are the scriptures that tell me my hope is everlasting, even when I feel like I am losing ground. I didn't learn those things from sitting in a room studying, starting at note cards. I learned those things by walking through life.
I guess the reason I am telling you about this part of my time there is because it's a safe place to start, but also because it's been a week where I've needed reminders of God's goodness, care, and peace, and my first thoughts were never, "What did I learn in MC?" The scriptures I've recited this week, have been ones that have carried me through specific moments in the past, and because of that, I know they will continue to carry me through the crazy moments in the present and future.
I don't want to go so far as to say that memorizing all of those scriptures during that year was a waste of time, because I do think the intention was/is good, but I want to be truthful and say that I think it may have missed its purpose. I think it could have potentially left a bad taste in students' mouth when they were struggling to memorize all the words and felt like they were failing. I think it just felt like busywork. Though it's great to have important words with you, I realize now that memorizing for the sake of memorizing means nothing, and the amount of scriptures you know, doesn't equal anything except a good memory, if you don't walk away changed. These days you can always open up an app and read those words on your iphone. The words are the same no matter where they come from, whether your head or your phone. The point of scripture isn't the means in which you read or know those words, it's the power and perspective they give you... and that comes for experience.
In that spirit, here is on of my favorite verses that I could give you countless stories about. This week, I have been once again reminded of the beauty and power of this verse.
What are words that you hold dear to your heart? Whether scriptures or phrases, what keeps you together, reminds you of goodness, and gives you perspective when you need it? I bet you didn't learn that at a desk.
I was in the program from October 2003-May 2005. I am now seven years removed from being a part of MC and it has taken me about that long- and still going, to detox from my experience there. There are certain things that have been more quickly sifted though, and others that continue to take years to unravel.
I learned a lot from MC, but not in the ways you would think. What I anticipated being an experience that would draw me closer to God, and give me a good foundation for adult faith, turned into the exact opposite. I learned what I don't believe about God, what I don't buy in the church world, and what I will not be a part of. You couldn't pay me enough money to go back there, but I also don't regret going. In hindsight, I see that going to MC was the beginning of my redefinition of faith. Walking through the extremes of that place, gave me part of a perspective that I am grateful for today, even if the means of getting that perspective weren't how I anticipated. Sometimes that's how it goes, though.
Starting to tell my stories about the program are part of my ongoing process of self-discovery, not an attempt to hurt anyone who has attended or works for/at MC. I've realized that summing up my experience in one post is impossible, for there are so many different pockets, facets, and corners that make up the whole of my time there. The best I can do is speak to aspects of that program that are directly related to what I'm feeling and thinking about in the present. Maybe over time, as I share more, a bigger picture about MC will be developed for you to see. For now though, I'll share my experiences singularly, specific to a current thought or idea.
So, here I go.
One perspective I hold to now, that is different than what I experienced in MC, is how scripture works. We would spend hours upon hours studying for our scripture tests. The goal at the end of the year being that each first year student would have 400 scriptures memorized to always have God's word "hidden in your heart," and easily accessible in any circumstance. Lucky for me, I have a great memory, and truthfully didn't struggle with this part of the program at all. I always got 100% and finished rather quickly. After each test, I'd pat myself on the back, and then go get a milkshake. At the end of the year when we had to write down all 400 scriptures for our final test, it was a cinch for me, no problem at all. I finished under the time allotted, and moved on with my day. I was obviously changed by those scriptures (said with heavy sarcasm).
Ask me today, though, how many I remember from that time, and I could hardly tell you five of them. I have a theory about why. It was the same as memorizing a bunch of information in High School to pass a test. You remember it at crunch time, then leave it behind because it doesn't matter to you. The only reason I was memorizing scripture was to pass a test. To get to the next thing. To say, "I did it," and check it off my list of accomplishments for that year. I imagine I'm not the only one who felt that way. What I've found, is that information is useless if there isn't significance attached to it. That includes scripture. Was it horrible that a requirement of being first year student in MC was to memorize scripture? No. But the problem is, I'd venture to say, little to none of us hold all of those words dear to us today, because it was set up as a test- as a hoop to jump through to "graduate," not connected to things that were important to us. We were being tested like we were in school; we just wanted to finish. It became part of the motions. We remained unchanged.
Now here is the flip side... ask me if I have scriptures that mean something to me, and I'd give an emphatic, yes. But are they attached to my time at MC? No. They are attached to my real life experiences and moments that have shaped me. The words that I hold dear to my heart, in the present, are ones that remind me of the goodness of God when I've needed to be reminded of that. They aren't attached to pleasing staff members or getting a pat on the back. My favorite verses are ones that have helped me when I've been at my lowest, my most anxious, and my weakest. My favorite verses are ones that express words that make my soul move. They are the scriptures that have come to mind when I am taking a walk and start to ponder the intricate beauty of nature, and know that the creator of those leaves, flowers, and seasons, cares for me even more. They are the scriptures that tell me when I am in the middle of a very dark moment, that peace is available to me. They are the scriptures that tell me my hope is everlasting, even when I feel like I am losing ground. I didn't learn those things from sitting in a room studying, starting at note cards. I learned those things by walking through life.
I guess the reason I am telling you about this part of my time there is because it's a safe place to start, but also because it's been a week where I've needed reminders of God's goodness, care, and peace, and my first thoughts were never, "What did I learn in MC?" The scriptures I've recited this week, have been ones that have carried me through specific moments in the past, and because of that, I know they will continue to carry me through the crazy moments in the present and future.
I don't want to go so far as to say that memorizing all of those scriptures during that year was a waste of time, because I do think the intention was/is good, but I want to be truthful and say that I think it may have missed its purpose. I think it could have potentially left a bad taste in students' mouth when they were struggling to memorize all the words and felt like they were failing. I think it just felt like busywork. Though it's great to have important words with you, I realize now that memorizing for the sake of memorizing means nothing, and the amount of scriptures you know, doesn't equal anything except a good memory, if you don't walk away changed. These days you can always open up an app and read those words on your iphone. The words are the same no matter where they come from, whether your head or your phone. The point of scripture isn't the means in which you read or know those words, it's the power and perspective they give you... and that comes for experience.
In that spirit, here is on of my favorite verses that I could give you countless stories about. This week, I have been once again reminded of the beauty and power of this verse.
What are words that you hold dear to your heart? Whether scriptures or phrases, what keeps you together, reminds you of goodness, and gives you perspective when you need it? I bet you didn't learn that at a desk.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Watering the Grass
Anytime I begin to think about when and where Bobby and I met, that thought is immediately followed by this thought: “I can’t believe we got out of there alive.” Bobby and I met at a faith-based program in Phoenix, where the expectations were unrealistic, where the pressure to maintain a certain image was overwhelming, where we were daily reminded of the strict and intense rules, and where frankly, the theology was whack. As if it wasn’t hard enough to live up to and muddle through those standards as an individual in our first year there, it became increasingly more complicated in our second year when Bobby and I were finally “allowed” to date (as if it was really anyone's business to tell us not to-they hardly knew us). Someday, if I can figure out a way to articulate my thoughts and experiences about my time there, I will, but for now, I’ll tell you that when Bobby and I finally realized that we needed to get out of there, we were burnt out, frustrated, and glad to be free from the demands and unhealthiness of that program.
This past winter, after six years and three months of marriage, Bobby and I realized that our dating experience had been so unlike a “regular” couple’s dating experience, and because of that, there were some places in our marriage that needed attention. We didn’t get the time together at the very beginning stages of our relationship that others do, to have fun, get to know each other like we wanted, go out to dinner, and to make-out in the car without feeling like were being watched. We realized that we needed to start over, in a way. We needed to try and re-get to know each other without the pressures of that program, without the expectations, and without fear of making a wrong move. That realization was both painful and freeing all once.
Here we are today, nine months later celebrating seven years of marriage. Our life together is far from perfect, but we've come a long way since we got married on September 3, 2005. Hell, we've come a long way from those dark days last December. We’ve got two beautiful kids, a life that we don’t deserve, and the feeling we’re going to make it, because honestly, if we could make it through six moves, two kids, job losses, anxiety and depression, hard realizations, and that program, all under a decade of being together, then I feel like we’re going to be alright.
These first seven years of our marriage may have had the theme of "getting out alive," but here’s the thought I carry now: “The grass ain’t always greener on the other side, it’s green where you water it.”
That mentality, to me, is the only way to have a thriving, growing, and healthy marriage. When Bobby and I stood at the altar seven years ago, and committed our lives to one another, we took that seriously, but we also had no idea how hard marriage was going to be. There have been, and will continue to be, opportunities left and right to quit. We’ve faced some tough days, dark seasons, and hard challenges. I know now that that is part of what comes with marriage, and if you expect anything different, you’ll be let down very quickly. But, water your grass with what’s true, instead of comparing and hoping for something else, and you’ll see those green sprouts start to pop up. We've been working really hard to water our grass.
Today, looking back at where we met, in that bubble of intensity, I realize that we desperately needed each other. That we were each others saving grace. That without having each other during that time, we wouldn’t have survived that program. Though we may not have had a “normal” dating experience, it was a great foreshadowing of the kind of love that we still share today: One of companionship, protection, commitment, hope, and promise. Those things are what we started to water our grass with then, even in the most trying of beginnings, and those are the things that we will continue to try and water our grass with now, and in the future.
My heart was Bobby’s then, and it still is now. I would gladly, willingly, and happily give it to him over and over again. I’ve found someone to water the same grass with, and though our grass may be brown and dry one season, and bright green in another season, it’s our grass. I don’t want anyone else’s grass no matter how good it may look.
Here’s to the future, no matter what it holds. Here’s to the ongoing commitment to water our grass. Here’s to the story that started unfolding at that crazy program in Phoenix.
Happy 7th Anniversary, my darling- I love you.
Friday, August 24, 2012
Perception and Projecting
Let's talk about perception and projecting. The way that people sense and feel who you are and what you're about, and what we give off.
The way you are perceived by people means nothing if it's not who you really are. Perception can be deceiving. See, you don't have to worry about how you are perceived if you are being your true self. If you are living your life in a particular way, you will naturally ooze the characteristics of that lifestyle. It's just how it goes.
On the flip side, how others perceive us can mean everything, since we ooze who we really are. Sometimes we project how we feel or think, without knowing that's what we're doing. Conflict can arise when what someone is projecting, unknowingly, is hurtful to those around them. To be unaware of what your projecting, is just as much of a characteristic, as putting in a huge amount of effort into how you want people to perceive you.
I've known people on both ends of the spectrum. On the left, there is the person who works so hard to make sure they are seen in a certain way. On the right, there is someone who has no idea how they make others feel by what they unknowingly project. We all possess a little of both, just to be clear. I am certainly no exception to either of those side of the perception coin. The goal to me though, it seems, is to try and come to a healthy middle ground of self-examination, so you can let things said about you, that don't align with who you are, roll of your back, and also be aware of how you can make those around you feel.
Caring so deeply about how you are perceived, to me highlights an insecurity in your life around that certain issue. Conversely, not knowing how the things you say and do, affect those around you, is an indicator to me of an area of arrogance/pride/blindness in your life. Both need to be attended to, even though they stem from different places. I, too, have been in those places.
So what is this all getting at? Here's the punch line.
The more you know who you are, and are healthily self-evaluating, and living out the conclusions of that evaluation, the less things people say about you, matter. I've said this before, and I'll say it again- it isn't about not caring what people think of you... it's about caring what the RIGHT people think. Perception will be just that, perception. The more true to yourself you are, the less peripheral opinions hold weight, and the less you have to worry about how you are perceived.
It's simply exhausting to care about what every single person you encounter thinks of you, but it's also important to care what trusted people are trying to communicate to you. It's a balance.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that if we are working harder to paint ourselves in a certain light, and never actually embody the painting, then what's the point? That's empty. And on the flip side, if we have no clue what we are painting, we can potentially hurt people.
Conclusion: Be you, and own it. Tweak where you need to, as indicated by your own convictions and the wisdom of those who know you, then let everything else slide. You can't win em' all. But that's not really the point anyway. The point is to live authentically, and if you're doing that, well, you're as good as gold.
The way you are perceived by people means nothing if it's not who you really are. Perception can be deceiving. See, you don't have to worry about how you are perceived if you are being your true self. If you are living your life in a particular way, you will naturally ooze the characteristics of that lifestyle. It's just how it goes.
On the flip side, how others perceive us can mean everything, since we ooze who we really are. Sometimes we project how we feel or think, without knowing that's what we're doing. Conflict can arise when what someone is projecting, unknowingly, is hurtful to those around them. To be unaware of what your projecting, is just as much of a characteristic, as putting in a huge amount of effort into how you want people to perceive you.
I've known people on both ends of the spectrum. On the left, there is the person who works so hard to make sure they are seen in a certain way. On the right, there is someone who has no idea how they make others feel by what they unknowingly project. We all possess a little of both, just to be clear. I am certainly no exception to either of those side of the perception coin. The goal to me though, it seems, is to try and come to a healthy middle ground of self-examination, so you can let things said about you, that don't align with who you are, roll of your back, and also be aware of how you can make those around you feel.
Caring so deeply about how you are perceived, to me highlights an insecurity in your life around that certain issue. Conversely, not knowing how the things you say and do, affect those around you, is an indicator to me of an area of arrogance/pride/blindness in your life. Both need to be attended to, even though they stem from different places. I, too, have been in those places.
So what is this all getting at? Here's the punch line.
The more you know who you are, and are healthily self-evaluating, and living out the conclusions of that evaluation, the less things people say about you, matter. I've said this before, and I'll say it again- it isn't about not caring what people think of you... it's about caring what the RIGHT people think. Perception will be just that, perception. The more true to yourself you are, the less peripheral opinions hold weight, and the less you have to worry about how you are perceived.
It's simply exhausting to care about what every single person you encounter thinks of you, but it's also important to care what trusted people are trying to communicate to you. It's a balance.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that if we are working harder to paint ourselves in a certain light, and never actually embody the painting, then what's the point? That's empty. And on the flip side, if we have no clue what we are painting, we can potentially hurt people.
Conclusion: Be you, and own it. Tweak where you need to, as indicated by your own convictions and the wisdom of those who know you, then let everything else slide. You can't win em' all. But that's not really the point anyway. The point is to live authentically, and if you're doing that, well, you're as good as gold.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)