Not even a million price tags

You know what I hate? I hate that we have turned Jesus into a homeboy; an image plastered onto a shirt and sold at a shoe store. I hate that the majority of crosses that hang around necks serve no significant purpose. To some it is a symbol of "luck" - whatever that is - and to some it is the gift that their grandmother gave them. I hate that Jesus is a Sunday-morning-brunch-talk Jesus to most. But, more than anything, the distaste reaches its peak in the fact that we are okay with these things.

I would rather speak on behalf of American's in stating that we have grown completely accustomed to these images and these mottos regarding Jesus. So much so, that we have missed the overall picture two quotes ago. To be blatantly honest, I fall into this category so often. I felt my conviction one night in church with a guest speaker who spate out the words "Why are we always looking for the next best sermon, the next best worship band and the next best conference to attend?" I left asking myself those questions, because that's me. Now with Easter here and the reality of it all making its appearance, I sat in a Good Friday service at church, dressed in black and putting my best somber face on, all per the request of Pastor James. Quite different this all was, as most years prior my Good Friday's were spent, well, not acknowledging it was indeed Good Friday.

So, somberly I sat and service began. I had a good time in worship, thought the bits of acting that came through were done very well and, gosh, we had really awesome worship leaders. Golden voices. Just as I thought it was a wrap, the last act was up and it came to the part where Jesus was to be crucified. On pops this video of this man's backside, only showing his right shoulder, badly beaten with flesh torn and mangled tissue so vivid that I felt sick. The gashes on His body were minute compared to the sound of His breathing; it was so faint and so fatal. This was Jesus dying. This was the reality of His crucifixion. It wasn't a picture above a mantle or a universal symbol for Christianity, it was reality for the first time to me. I sat there, silently crying because it felt like I finally reached the end of this enigma I had traced through for so long. The only thing that kept going through my head was "That's my Lover." and that's all I kept telling myself. I heard his faint breaths and knew He was dying for me. And I know, I know this sounds so repetitive to some, but for me it was my basement light clicking on. I know I will never fully understand it, but it felt like a gust of wind to finally have a taste to understand what He did for me, for us, just so I could have a second chance at all of this. I grabbed the wooden cross that hangs on my neck and it felt so different for the first time.

And now I sit in bed with all of these images of what we have made Jesus out to be. How we've turned this tragic, yet beautiful deed into a marketing campaign. All He wanted to do was show us how much He loves us and we take it and turn it into a market place. We all know what Jesus thinks about that ("My house will be called a house of prayer, but you are making it a 'den of robbers'" Matthew 21:13) and I don't want to be okay with this. In discovering a sacrifice that is real and has weight, we have to refuse to turn it around to glorify us. What He did for us could hold not even a million price tags, and even if they did, they would all have names written on them. You, me and everyone else.

I guess the question is what do I do from here? I cannot physically stop the unconscious believer from wearing their WWJD bracelet while flipping me off. I think I would rather take this as a challenge to myself, even when I want to flip the tables like Jesus. In due time, though, in due time. Overall, I truly am grateful now... the cross around my neck feels heavier with meaning.

It's going to be beautiful, brother.

It has still been since June 15th that you decided to take the scissors to all that was around you. And I don't know why today in particular it is extremely hard for me to even think about. This may even come out quite nonsensical in the end, but at this point I don't even care much.

I have been so selfish lately.  My own selfishness has gotten in the way and now it's the point of pride vs. pride in this game. It has to stop now, because the enemy likes it far too much and he is just dragging you further, and my cold shoulder to this situation like a helping shove into those valleys. I think the things that I have tried to tell you have grown stale and tasteless to you, but I don't care. I will never stop telling you how sorry I am to have been such a crappy sister to you. I wish I could take back every degrading thing I've ever told you before and I wish I never participated in the things that did not build you up.

While God was building you up, your own family was taking a hammer to it.

I think the thing that surprises me the most is how I was growing closer to God as you were loosening the strings to your relationship with Him... all at the same exact time. But again, I was too selfish to even notice. Slowly, you were making an exit and slowly I was beginning to see His glory. Now that you've taken your exit and now that you have decided to live this life that isn't close to the way you know you should be living makes me so weary. I think it is because you know... like, you KNOW how you should be living but you decided that your rebellion needed to get out. Again, that is a lie that is picked up far too often. I already know that if something horrific were to happen, in a heartbeat you would ask for forgiveness from God and you would want back right then, because you could never doubt Him (I know this because you did agree). But still... you continue.

It's to this point now where I have to put off my pride in this and continue to love you; love you until there are bruises and there is bleeding, because that is how much I love you. Even if I did not show it before. I will fight for you, because I cannot be another helping hand in this. You were created for so much more. Even my old birthday cards tell these stories. Your written scriptures, trying to encourage ME, the old unbeliever, to come to know God, because He knew His plans for me. I suppose now it is your turn... no matter how much I hate that, but God works out everything for His purpose. So one day, one very beautiful day, God will turn this around to glorify Him. You know what will be said?

"You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done. The saving of many lives." Genesis 50:20

And it's going to be beautiful, brother. And then the angels will rejoice... because you are back.

Strawberry Swing

"More and more groups of people at this 'level' are real with one another, but nobody is changing. Nobody is growing. Nobody is maturing. We've almost made the end goal of friendship to be authenticity instead of transformation. What good is a friend to [just] be open and honest? That's not the whole goal. The goal is to be in relationship with people who would challenge you and inspire you to not stay the same." - Josh Loveless

I have really been thinking about the deep meaning of friendship lately. I have been thinking about the reasons and the importance behind friendship. As I type this, there is a woman who is hysterically laughing with her girl friends in a coffee shop. There are six of them gathered around a table, giving the attention each deserve, sharing stories and that infectious laughter between one another. It really is encouraging to see this in older women, because I come to the conclusion that friendship is unceasing and does not get old as you get older. On the contrary, it would seem that it increases as one gets older.

It is friendship like this that ignites the very thing within you that is either hidden or stale due to life. Friendship comes along and shoves it out of you; to bring you either to tears or to pure laughter. Both equally healthy. And I think (know, actually) that the healthiest types of friendship are those between Christian's. True Christ followers who would so humbly lay down their best cardigan or favorite jacket in order for you to cross the puddle. This doesn't just happen between boyfriends and girlfriends, it is completely, 100% applicable in friendships. I truly believe that you are taught a portion of how to be humble and how to be selfless through friendships before marriage. I also believe that the greatest quality a friend can hold is one that is challenges the other friend; always pushing them outside of their comfort zone when it comes to their relationship with God.

In this, I have been seeing that God is making such a beautiful opening for friendships in my life. From the friends that I have in Florida - who, ultimately, gave me a standard for real friendship - to my newfound friends in Illinois. They are so wonderful, encouraging and more than anything, true friends through Christ. I am challenged by them and through them, I see how much I still have to work on. My amazing friend Eva portrayed just this last night. She just flew back from a five week missions trip in New Zealand and last night, she sat down with our group and was so blunt in wanting us to get out of our comfort zones. She encouraged us to get out and evangelize and connect with people we don't even know. We then had a time of praying and fellowship. This girl challenges me so much without even realizing it. I see the spark in her eye to strive to be the person that God calls her to be, whether it's quitting both of her jobs and taking off to another country for five weeks or her literal way of being the connection between every single person in our group - she makes it happen.  She was the first person to come up to me and make that connection. I don't know what kind of friendships I would have if God did not introduce me to her on the first night of college group.

And it is funny, too, that my best friend Chelsea was the first person to make the connection with me one night at church. From there, the friendships between amazing people and myself grew. So many times those same groups of people had to hold my hand above water and they helped me up to the surface through their humility, challenging and love. Friendship is such a beautiful, beautiful thing and God had every right and noble intention with it, and it is such a shame when we couple ourselves with the wrong crowds that aren't helping us grow spiritually.  It's crippling, actually. Through God and friendships, we recognize our broken bones and through these relationships, we get back to the health He has intended.

Who knows how these women in front of me have met, they're making their friendship work in such a beautiful way. It is friendship like this that can bring light to a room and a smile to the soul.

His work is good.

Oh, the road with its marvelous spectacles - like that of a circus - it is always so appealing to the eye. So we say, "Forget the soul! Heart, lead the way. Mere mind, you may only think when the decisions are in agreement with this heart."

We begin the path, feeling its grooves and its beats. We decide that this is right where we belong, because the craving for such an adventure has gone on for far too long. The craving must be met, and since the lights and the beats reach for our attention, we assume this must be the missing puzzle piece. It is not long afterwards that we've reached the road, where the lights are fading and the music seems distant. Forgetful we were in the beginning; the road always leads downward.

Oh, oh, but that's right... we've held onto that rope "just in case", and we have also left bread crumbs along the trail. So we tug, He pulls and we begin the journey up. Becoming distracted by the attractions again, remembering the fun we had, we let go. Forgetful again, the road ends and no longer do we have the rope to grab and pull. So we follow those bread crumbs we dropped along the way last time.

Along the path, we find the friends we traveled the road with. Too far gone to even see us and our call to travel this new path, they reach for us, but we refuse... we know the bottom, its freezing temperatures and its echos of desperation. The breadcrumbs are the only thing left to help us get back this time, so we say goodbye to the people we brought down with us, knowing we cannot face the bottom again. The wind seems battering closer to the top, but we push through.

Once to the top, we begin to see the scars and the bruises we acquired along the way down. The weight of our decisions sets in and just as we feel them overpowering, the slightest whisper has them flee. "You are mine." we hear. The soul begins its awakening. The Sewer begins His work. While painful, we know it cannot happen any other way. The scars have faded and the bruises brushed away, there is a newness; a freedom felt. Our longing to belong, the adventure we craved, this is where we begin.

One day we will be made into perfection; one day His work will be done. The thread will feed through one last time and He will place us down, and He will say His work is good.