Categorical Christianity

“The matter is quite simple. The Bible is very easy to understand. But we Christians are a bunch of swindlers. We pretend to be unable to understand it because we know very well that the minute we understand it, we are obliged to act accordingly. Take any words in the New Testament and forget everything except pledging yourself to act accordingly. My God, you will say, if I do that my whole life will be ruined. How would I ever get on in the world?

Herein lies the real place of Christian scholarship. Christian scholarship is the Church’s prodigious invention to defend itself against the Bible, to ensure that we can continue to be good Christians without the Bible coming too close. Oh, priceless scholarship, what would we do without you? Dreadful it is to fall into the hands of the living God. Yes, it is even dreadful to be alone with the New Testament.”

–Soren Kierkegaard

More than I would like to lately, I have been thinking about the type of Christian I am. Am I the lax one? The comfortable one? The "don't pull me out of my bubble" one? The "I'll do anything for you, God" one? I feel that there may be even more categories to fall into - and that alone is scary enough to think about. It also makes me wonder how God looks down and sees those who have actually come back to Him and found the redemption and freedom He so lovingly offers, to be doing nothing with their faith. I would imagine it being like someone making a huge investment in some kind of company, with hopes of making some kind of profit or seeing the growth of the company happen, but then nothing happens. The investment that that person made turned around, not be a failure, but abandonment.

That is because it takes two sides in order to see something like that flourish. What does it look like when God hands you everything (Romans 8:11),  and we set it aside like we still have our plans to do and we will get to that stuff later? I even find it incredibly contradictive of myself to act as if I have any say into my life, especially if I have just screamed out in worship, "Where You go, I go. What You say, I say, God. What You pray, I pray." and then turned around and so flippantly continue down the same exact road. Who do I think I am?

If we are saying we want God to take it all, what exactly is our "all?" Is it a few things here and there? Because sometimes I find myself struggling with this, and what it boils down to is that it is a huge pride issue. I cannot let some things go in my life because I think I can do it better. Meanwhile, God begins to build his garden of thornbushes to wall me in (Hosea 2:6) because He knows, oh, He knows, my path is only destructive to myself, and that His plans are beyond my imagination.

I cannot and will not allow myself to become some categorical Christian. I need to challenge myself more in my Christianity. I need to challenge myself in my relationship with God, to break from the mediocrity that the world hands out like flyers. I need to challenge myself in my relationships with my friends. I should make sure that I am a great friend in the sense that I am encouraging and rooting my friends on in their relationship with God. I should even be a great friend to those who don't know Jesus - but not fall into old habits.

It is such a process, but it is so worth it. When Jesus was telling his disciples, "Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me." It is a process that is to be done daily, not weekly, not monthly or yearly. God wants every single bit of us, every single day. That is your investment back to God. That is where the flourishing happens. It just takes us to cut off the head of pride - because it is eating us all alive.

C.S. Lewis put pride this way: "If anyone would like to acquire humility, I can, I think, tell him the first step. The first step is to realize that one is proud. And a biggish step, too. At least, nothing whatever can be done before it. If you think are not conceited, it means you are very conceited indeed."

Thought Dissipation

I feel as if my mind is pacing to and fro, searching for something to write about. My thoughts come to me in the car or in the middle of my sleep. I take note of them at the time, before they evaporate amongst the rest of my thoughts. One idea was to write on the concept of friendship/relationship and its importance. Then another was to write based off of the question, "What happens when we are called to live?"

But where did they go? My writing has not been on its tip-toes as it usually is. I am reading great books, which typically inspires and then churns the machinery in my mind. C.S. Lewis' "Mere Christianity" is my most recent read and it is incredibly insightful. His thinking is beyond me; one, as a Christian, can just see how God gave Lewis magnificent outlooks, which he then put on paper.

Since my thoughts are too jumbled or too few, I will say that I do have someone new in my life. He's a wonderful man; really, just lovely. Also, two of my amazing friends just tied the knot in a wonderful wedding. Honestly, I am just at a very happy point in my life. My relationship with God is becoming more and more focused on a day-to-day basis (I am learning this is a hard thing to do).

I did hear once that "Once your relationship with God finds a balance, everything else in your life will find a balance." and, honestly, I believe this is a point. A fine point, indeed. In the meantime, my thoughts have dissipated, I suppose I will submit to defeat right now. But until then...  may your thoughts churn and your Holiday's be wonderful.

Comfort in Stars and Sunsets

How do you explain to your parents that you do not have to climb the corporate ladder in order to obtain God's love?

You don't. Not even in a million words. Instead I choose to become numb and shut down to their ceaseless arguments of how "I need to make myself into someone" or "I need to rely on myself in life". Though, sometimes my shut down has a few spats of retorts, because I cannot make them really believe that I buy into their idea of this corporate ladder.

At the time of my thoughts churning on all of this, I was sitting in a parking lot of Target, while on the hood of my car with a pen and paper. I would stop writing every once and a while in order to just glance at the stars. I kept repeating the idea that I really serve a God who cares about me, even when my home life isn't as ideal as the Brady Bunch. I found it comforting that all I had to do was walk outside and look up and remember there is Someone out there that does not require me to have this formulaic life as the rest of the world. Instead, He has hand picked me to do just the things He wants me to do. Just as He paints the skies everyday at sunset and just as we think He's done, He gives us stars in the night for entertainment.

Because sometimes we need it. We need to know that we are not alone in our thoughts and our beliefs. The sunsets and the stars that God gives us seem to bring us in and say "You're never alone". I needed it so badly last night as I sat underneath them and begged God to know what I was doing wrong and what I was missing. My parents are Christian's, amazing Christian's at that, but sometimes we just do not see eye-to-eye when it comes to, for the lack of better words, "letting go and letting God".

I'm told to provide for myself, to create my own paths and to think for myself. And no matter how many times I've told them what God has done in my life because I was not doing these things, it goes overlooked. I know it's going to take a heart change and for eyes to be opened, but I cannot do that. That is why I say "not even a million words". I am not the one to do the convincing and thank goodness - that would be draining and would cause a lot of strife.

What it has come to is that ultimately, God has my best interest at heart - because it is His. My parents do, too, of course, but something is still lacking. Through this, I have to be patient, understanding , loving and keep no record of wrongs (or the arguments).

I have seen what God can do in my life and this is another situation where I have to take my hands off and let Him guide again.

Campaigns rotting brains

I just lived in my head for an entire week. I am not even kidding. Somehow, I managed to grind my vocal cords to a screeching halt and they were fed up with me. This is also known as Laryngitis. My vocal cords packed their bags and left town for a week, leaving me to a week of silence with interruptions of intense brochial-like coughs. Well, in my many days of silence, I was also out of work. I quickly began to smell the onset of cabin fever, so I would take a drive around. Unable to sing songs, I began taking notice of my surroundings as I drove. Do you know what I took notice of?

Campaign signs. They were everywhere. It was as if the sky opened up one day, dropped out every campaign sign for every person running for this office or that office. I then began the thought process (because I could not talk to myself outloud) on how stupid all of the campaign signs/politics are and asked myself: why do those who run for some kind of office spend their energies and monies on advertisements such as campaign signs? All different shapes and sizes, but still they say the same thing. None of them have neon lights, so the darkness that falls on them does not even give them a helping hand. The signs do nothing but serve as a nesting place for bugs. I bet it's a local hang out for them.

I think what gets me most, is that the amount of money put towards the signs could actually be used to help the community - ligitimate help. Help that does not have to be taken back and tossed into a shredder for recycling after election season. This is where politicians of every sort become incredibly dubious to me. I do not see them as selfless, loving, trustworthy citizens that they make themselves out to be. I see the exact opposite. The T.V. advertisements, the billboards, the signs in every size, the shirts, the buttons, the glitter and glam - it means nothing if there is nothing to show for it.

Politicians should show their character through actions in actually helping out the public they are wanting to serve. Instead of filming the latest backfire against their rival, maybe they can join a charity that they truly care about and covertly volunteer. I would rather find out about their scandelous affair of secretly helping out the homeless rather than their money laundering and infidelities.

But that is just me. Me, the same person who used to fire arrows of hate towards the opposing point-of-view when it came to politics. Now, I cannot stand the political garbage. Sure it is nice to be up-to-date, but I should remain at a safe distance when it comes to politics these days. My arrows have since been changed to loving and have been dispersed towards things that actually matter in my life.

I suppose those are my inner thoughts towards politicians and to those who camp alongside of the campaigns like it is Woodstock 2010. Instead of drugs rotting brains, it's more likely that campaigns are rotting brains this time around.

But now that my voice is back in town, the cough remains, I am going to invest its time into work - "Thank you for calling Rooth Law Firm."

Crap and all its stuff.

I am looking around my room, and I recognize one significant aspect about myself: I have a lot of stuff. Things. Crap. It is piled, but neatly so. Tucked into baskets and placed on painted objects hanging on the wall.

Sure, I put this stuff to use. The perfume bottles and lotions serve as a reminder of a, um, fetish that I seem to have. I must like, or love, to smell nice. Some days like a coconut, others like an "Amethyst". What is an "Amethyst" anyway? Bath & Body Works and its clever branding does not serve it well in the naming department, but it, at the very least, can make a sweet aroma.

I guess there is a humor found in the action of my money spent on an item called "Twilight Woods" - I wonder where that naming came from - but I smell nothing like the greenery of nature nor a thing like twilight... if that has a scent.

Whatever.

I have a lot of crap. Shoes and clothes shoved into, not one, but two closets. Color coordinated, hung in specification - dresses, skirts sweaters (closet one) - and - shirts, jeans, dress pants shoes (closet two). See what I mean?

Craze and dazed I seem in this writing, but what it comes down to, the boiling point, the bulls-eye, is that my parents are selling the only house I have ever loved. Truly loved. Sure, building a relationship with this house was not my intention, but I guess you cannot resist its beauty (1.5 acres we are talking). I am almost positive you can love inanimate objects.

And that is where the utter, tragic, awareness comes from. The comprehension of all my stuff. Do I really need to smell like this or this or this? No. Just a want. If I had the guts, I would give it all away to a homeless person whose never smelled the scent of Valentino perfume.

I bet they would hate it. I bet they would look at me like an idiot with a hint of disgust. Did they need my pity via perfume bottle? Food would have sufficed. Some other necessity. Are those things my necessity? I can hear her now. Crap.

I do not know how I would answer, to be honest. I would walk away asking God to help me in my relationship with my finances and to teach my simplicity. Trace my steps of spending my money and where it floods into. No longer should I be blind to this. Because it all falls down the same shoot. It is all crap, stuff, great smelling stuff, but stuff and things in the end. So teach me. Teach  me the simplicity of living this life. To not be in want or in need. Sure, I've attempted  and it is still not enough.

There are people starving in this world. People who live their days in a cardboard box that they found behind a grocery store that just stocked their shelves full of food... and that is what was left for them. 


I am selfish. I am pathetic. And if this is what it takes for God to show me something, anything - thank You. Finally. I want to begin this work; to stop hitting the brakes in complacency. Now that I have broken down, I have to get started again. I need to be fixed in learning simplicity even deeper now. I want to begin reliving the vision that You've given me. Love others as I love myself - learning true equality that You have taught. Love You, love others. 


Where I physically end up in this move, I do not know. Maybe alone in Florida as my family moves to Chicago. But through that, I want to see You in my life, weaving into my finances, emotions, everything. I really do. 


I will delve into the love of my house and my soon departure from it in another post. I want to end with this:

‎"For where your treasure is, 

your heart will be there also." 

Matthew 6:21

Pumpkin Spice Latte's & Maturation.

As the warmth of my pumpkin latte clothed my throat like a sweater, I realized that I needed to bump up my A/C (I live in Florida and I am drinking a hot latte) and I had a slight taste of reminiscence. Now, I do not know if you are the type of person that has their nostalgic button kicked into high gear when you smell certain scents or when you taste certain things, but that is how my mind works. Well, the pumpkin latte sparked an intense memory that brought me back to just the year before. A year of tribulation and maturation. A year of doors closing and others opening.

I responded to the memory with a sick taste in my mouth - not attributed by the latte, I guarantee that - but quickly I withdrew those tastes with a quick swallow. Then a lump grew in my throat. I almost began to cry in re-adjusting my focus on, not my failures and faults, but on how far I have come. Not in the length of time "far", but in the sense of maturity in myself, my actions, my thoughts and my all around being.

I saw myself just a year ago as that someone who repeatedly ignored the request from God to let Him be my entire focus. It took a lot of regrets and pains in order for this shift came into place. My heart came to Him covered in scars and my mind quite weary. Now that the scars are fading and my mind has at last made its way to victory and freedom, it has begun to weave a web of a beautiful story.

It's funny that I do not have these recollections without the help of a pumpkin latte or a specific scent. I suppose that is what keeps my story from being null and void. It helps the little runner of my mind jog these memories without growing tired. I now begin to wonder what I will think back on with next years sip of a pumpkin latte. Overall, what I am saying is that... pumpkin spice latte's help mature your character. Well, spiced with God, too.

Recollectin': Cruising Through Old Memories

I have been thinking about childhood memories recently. I have thought about their importance and their feel of purity and utter realness to life. As a child, you run around feeling invincible and completely unaware of all the bad in the world. As a child, you can have fun with a patch of grass or a riding a slide a million times without the thought of it getting boring. Everything is fresh and new and unexplored in the mind of a child. So, I just decided to dive head first into nostalgia and reminisce on the memories that my mind still holds onto.

- I started with my days in Kindergarten and I specifically remember my first day. Walking into the fluorescent lit room and Mrs. Pennington introducing herself. The intimidation of peers stares and the realization that my mom dressed me, head to toe, in this matching jean outfit. I think this is where I learned what embarrassment was.
- I remember playing Red Rover, Red Rover when I was a Brownie in Girl Scouts.
- I remember my babysitter in fourth grade. Her name was Mrs. Lisa and she had freckles like stars and eyes as blue as the Mediterranean Sea. Her candy giving was rare, but I think I thought that was okay. She was sweet as it was. She used to frenchbraid my hair before school and marinate my hair in water instead of hairspray. We used to play dress up and I would hang out with her sons, as her daughter was still a baby. This is probably where I became a tomboy.
- I remember in fifth grade when a girl named Marci was my best friend, and we had carefree days at the park. We would swing on the tire swing and climb across the monkey bars. I think a cute boy was involved. That is a foggy memory.
- I remember attempting to build a treehouse with my step-sisters. We did a fine job and spent most of our days up in the tree that held the piece of plywood with such gentleness. Kristen and Karmin were my step-sisters and my best friends... but that's all changed. I haven't spoken to them in years since our parents divorced.
- I recall when Graham Costa and Mark Derkas proclaimed they would have a soccer match to figure out who would be my boyfriend. This was elementary school and I later was given a talkin' to by Graham's mom over the drama. I still keep in touch with Mark.
- I like the memory of my fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Skeeter. I hold a soft spot in my heart for her. She was an amazing teacher who even got me into reading Anne Frank. Mainly because she said I looked like her. Mrs. Skeeter used to offer candy and Moonpies like it we forever stood in the cashier's line. I am officially friends with her on Facebook and we just talked this year. She's still as wonderful as I remembered.
- I remember meeting my biological father for the first time since practically birth and it being the most awkward encounter ever. I was about 8 and he wanted me to call him "dad", but I had already been calling someone else "dad" for the past 8 years. It didn't go over so well with my conscience. He did buy me Selena stuff, though.

My memories do stretch further, but those are the most memorable thus far. Do you have any interesting ones that you can recollect?