Faithless Bride

Ezekiel 16.  Read it.  And see yourself as His bride.  Let the sweet gospel wash over your heart and soul.

Israel.  The Lord's Bride.  You.

You were unwanted.

You were despised and rejected.

Covered in blood, my heart had compassion for you as you struggled for your next breath.

You were covered with blood, no hope of a future, abandoned little wretch, thrown away in the trash.

But my heart fell in love.

When I saw your pathetic form.

I breathed my breath of life to fill your lungs.

I loved you.

The years flashed by as you grew to be a beauty.

The world stood in awe as you simply took a breath.

I was in love and I took you to the alter.

Jewelry and silk, crowns and anointments.  None could compare to your unmatchable beauty.

But my heart fell in love.

As I vowed to you my whole heart.

Forever yours, you became my queen and love affair.

I loved you.

Then one day you stood gazing too long in the mirror.  

You trusted in your beauty.

You became a whore.

You stripped yourself of respect, beauty, even true love.

You became what you wanted.

My faithless bride.

But my heart fell in love.

When I saw you in the Brothel.

My tears fell freely as my heart shattered 'round my feet.

I loved you.

You were a whore, you were a tramp, you were a slut, you had betrayed me.

You adulteress wife.

You faithless bride.

But my heart fell in love.

That's why I have to crush you. 

I must strip you bare before you see your own despair.

I loved you.

I beat my breast.

I tore my robes.

How could I harm you whom I love so much?

It is for your good.

Because I loved you.

I devote myself to you, my bride.

Your shame still brings tears to my eyes.

My covenant with you is strong and will hold fast.

Faith love, is all you need to get somewhere.

Put your past behind you and take my hand---

As we walk, let us walk through the Promised Land.

Now my heart falls in love every day.

When I see your shining face on the pillow mere inches away.

You faithful bride.

You loving wife.

My heart is yours.

My love, you are my pride and joy.

As your husband, as your head I devote myself.

To you forever.

I love you.


He will keep His covenant with you.

The Stall Seat Journal: 1st Edition

Today I became a germophobe.

I began an endeavor I don't plan on repeating in the near future.

I attempted to replace the wax seal under the toilet.  You know, the one that ensures no leakage.  The one you don't even think about as you sit on the throne, doing your business.  The one that should never ever ever ever need to be replaced.  But alas, the brokenness of the world ensures that it will indeed break, and some poor soul will have to replace it.

Before I continue, I would like to send up a prayer that you NEVER have to go through the nasty process that is anything to do with plumbing and sewage systems.

I'm  flushed with excitement to get this blog started!  Time's a wasteing, so water we waiting for?

So, we began the dastardly deed by draining the toilet.  I reached down to turn the water off and flushed the toilet.  Most of the water drained out of the tank.  But as I leaned over to check the progress it was soon evident that not all of the water would drain.  Sigh.  And so the nastiness began.  I got out two sponges.  And yes.  You can see what's coming next.  I hand sponged the rest of the water out of the tank.  That's right.  I physically plunged my hand into the murky water to empty it of the remaining water.  I thought the worst was over.  HA.  Oh, how naive.  I lifted the lid of the toilet.  My father leaned over, handed me the sponge and said, "Got for it."  Sigh.  So, I went for it.  I had to sponge the water out by hand.  The thing that got me through?  Kittens and puppies.  They're all so cute.  Kittens!  My goodness, litters of kittens are SO cute!  But alas, having your hands in water where poop has been?  It'll tear down even the most disgusting human being on an episode of Fear Factor.  It is nasty.  So I then proceeded to get out this weird metal lamp thing that got hot in about .234 seconds.  It shone brightly as I began to unscrew the two bolts that hold the toilet to the ground.  Then lo and behold, one of the screws doesn't unscrew.  Did you hear?  It didn't unscrew!  Therefore, I am reduced to cutting the bolt.  

Crap.  

I have to cut the bolt.  

So I put the project away for Easter weekend and I will attack it again on Monday.

That does it!  All bets are now off.  

The next time I finish and fix the toilet, I will indeed reach into my back pocket and pull out a bird-flu mask.   You know, the kind that only allow the sun to reach my eyes!  Now hear me out, I didn't always used to be the person who kept a bird-flu mask in their back pocket.  No no!  Indeed I used to ignore the vestiges of illness and even on occasion was the type who might extend an acknowledgement of blessing should someone sneeze in my company!  But never again I tell you!  A toilet, when the lid is left open during a flush can discharge as many germs into the air as a full-on open-mouthed cough by a snotty-nosed-five-year-old directed in your face!  The foul lung discharge when not accompanied by a preventative barrier can be as repulsive as the toxicity of a freaking land fill!  You might as well be standing next to Typhoid Mary in an elevator!  Do be terrified.  It is their germ mission to land on and find any means of entering your body.

I've almost completely ruled hand-shaking out of the question.  I will say, "Nice to meet you!"  And I might even blow them a kiss for good measure!  And public doors!?  Are you kidding me!?  Handrails?  Escalators?  We're pretty much talking about a conveyor belt of pestilence and filth!  It's pretty much a buffet of maladies that would rival any petri dish in any scientists lab!  You're pretty much toying with unleashing the apocalypse if you touch one of those things!

I'm considering investing in a haz mat suit.

The-unnamed-nobody-cares-I-sure-hope-you-don't-read-this-post.

I clicked the new post button.

I don't know what I'm going to write about.

Starbucks.  You have this effect on me.  To write...to write...to write.  WITH NOTHING TO WRITE ABOUT.

Me and my venti hazelnut misto are bonding over my indecisiveness.  I was sure I wanted the misto.  The rest was cloudy.  Just like the weather.

I am determined to be a good writer someday.  Someday.  Maybe that someday will include the pacific northwest, some mad musical skills, and a bakery/coffee shop that I own and manage.

Maybe.

Maybe someday.

Birthday Bliss

How loved can one person feel?

Incredibly.

As all....eleven....of my followers know, my birthday was last Sunday, March 27th.  Nineteen years ago on  a cold Friday morning in March my Momma heard my loud, unforgettable cry.  She had a baby girl with more dark hair than you can imagine.  My mother and father like to tell me about how I kept them up ALL night long.  My poor, poor mother was in labor all night.  And so, my life started out with a hassle.  haha.  I wasn't even breathing air and I was already a nuisance.  Just wait till I started talking and having opinions!

For nineteen years I have been more loved than I can fathom.
My friends love me and for some odd reason put up with me.
My brothers love me and tease me and feel the need to protect me from the male side of population.
My sisters love me and taught me the delicacies of coffee and will stay up at ungodly hours of the night talking with me.
My parents love me.  There are too many things my parents do for me to list.  They have always and will always be my biggest supporters.  I have no doubt that my parents will be behind me, building me up in Christ, urging me to love Him more daily.

I have a blessed life.  Yea, so there are day-to-day struggles.  But I wouldn't have any character or back bone if God didn't give me strife.  (Although my Pop would say I'll always be a character. Ba doom ching.)

I love my friends.
I love my family.
I love my life.
But most importantly, I love my maker.

Open your eyes.  See how blessed you are.

Trendy Jesus and His Hipsters

Be forewarned:  I might come across as offensive, or too opinionated.  That’s the beauty of a free nation, baby!  I can think whatever I want.  So can you.  Feel free to disagree with me.  I won’t mean to offend anyone, but if it happens, skip to the bottom and read my last sentence.  Also, this is a long post.  So hunker down.  Preferably with a drink in hand.  Maybe even a writing utensil and paper?  Yea, I knew it was too much to ask.

Dig this.

Too many Christians these days seem to think that the only way to bring the lost to Christ is by being cool.  

Helloooooo hipster nation!  Why do we need to give Christianity a vintage makeover?  Why does it have to be cool to be accepted?  These are my questions, and my sassy observations.

1. Of congregations, labels and denominations.

You know the place.  The big church building on the corner.  The one your grandma has gone to her whole life and her parents before them and their parents before them and the only reason the parents before them weren't a part of the church was because the town wasn't established yet (but don't worry, that brings you to a fifth generation __________).  The church where bingo meets on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  The one where you're pretty positive you're the only person who has ever even considered voting democrat.  The one where all the old women from your grandma's quilting club call you by your older sibling's name.  The one where they sing all traditional hymns and use an organ and you are for sure the only person to be reminded of the Phantom of the Opera by organ usage.  

This church isn't cool by the new standards.  No true Christian hipster would step foot in one of these places.

Methodist, Lutheran, Presbyterian.  Labels.  The dreaded labels.  It's not cool to go to a denominational church.  The Emergent movement is sweeping America (which is really a whole other blog in and of itself).  I guess my biggest comment on this topic is, why is it SO uncool to be a part of a denomination?  I understand that some people are turned off by denominations and church in general.  But, my thought?  I can't harden or soften the heart of an unbeliever.  God can.

2. Calling oneself “progressive” rather than “liberal’.

The word liberal (like evolution and sex) carries a negative connotation in the Christian subculture.  It is often used in the context of play-by-play accounts from pastors or Sunday school teachers about the dangers of competitive slippery slope sliding.  Is progressive better?  The hipster Christians sure thinks so.  People like Jesus and Donald Miller are considered progressive.  Progressive communicates the fact that we’re not headed down, but forward…and a little (slash a lot) to the left.  Or you can just be like me, and be blatantly conservative.

3. Assuming our daily fair-trade latte from our trendy locally owned coffee shop, makes us committed to social justice.


I may drive a gas-guzzling clunker from the 80's to Wal-mart to buy a trunk full of fruit and veggies from the good ole U.S. of A. but I’m certain that the steam pouring off of my free trade Chai Tea Latte is a sweet aroma to God. Revocup, Bluestem Bistro, Radina's.  Don't deny it.  You know the places.  Starbucks?  Please.  We like the trendy, hole in the walls.

4. Thinking the only way to bring people to Jesus is by being cool. 

Why?  Why is this the case?  Why is it that we have convinced ourselves that only the cool, trendy and hip will draw the unbelievers into community with Christians?  Why is it that we are working so hard on our image so as to intrigue the unbeliever?  

We, as Christ followers, believe in the power of the Lord of the universe.  He seeks.  He saves.  If we speak this truth, we speak love.  We act love.  (The last two sentences might be the most hipster sounding sentences of my life.)  Through our lives, the Lord changes and calls, softens, and pulls the unbeliever's hearts to Him.  

We freak out way too much.  What was I thinking about earlier today?  What I would wear.  Who would see me.  What they would think of me.  I want desperately to be liked.  To be accepted.  To be "in".  Don't EVEN try to tell me you're not the same way.  

But Christian, it's time you heard this news! If you've been reading the Bible at all you'll know this: Jesus was not cool.  Isaiah 53, people!  He was "despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, familiar with suffering."  Ya hear?  Hated.  Despised.  Rejected.  Does that sound fun?  Or cool?  Or trendy?  More proof?  The Old Testament is full of examples and times when God the Son was treated like poop.  I said poop. (Kudos if you get that reference.)  Do we need to talk about the douche bag Pharisee's?  Or better yet, have we forgotten about the Jews (His own people) who killed him?  He definitely didn't win the popularity contest.

I almost envy believers in countries with significantly less freedom than our own.  I fear the persecuted believer might know the personality and character better than the hipster nation Christian.  People were drawn to Jesus because he loved them passionately and fiercely, not because he was cool.  In the end, we need to realize that we are not the ones doing the saving.  Jesus is, and we are the ones who are supposed to show others what living life for him is to look like.  I hate to break it to you, but it's not always cool, but instead real and true and fulfilling.  Let's try some authenticity on for size.  

Don't misread me.  I like hipsters.  I like their style.  They aren't by any means bad people.  I might even consider myself mildly hit with the hipster stick.  What I don't like is where our nation and generation seems to be taking Christianity.  I strongly believe the Lord calls us to be strong men and women who will take up His cross.  But if we're too concerned about how used our keds look, or how many people notice our Hebrew tattoo that of course means something spiritually significant, or contemplating if your new dress is even vintage considering you got it from American Apparel then when will we find time to be concerned with the Lord?  When will we adore our Creator more than the life that is a gift to us?  We are so blessed.  The preeminent Father of all, loves us.  Let's start acting like it. 



Now an excerpt from a note my dear friend Candace wrote, "I would not be surprised if some churches have a 'cool team' consisting of people wearing chunky Rob Bell glasses who discuss how to make worship sound more indie-rock. I can almost see them sitting in a coffee shop drinking americanos, with at least one of the guys hoping the barista they think is cute will ask him what his tattoo means, which is of course spiritually significant, and he will be able to invite her to church, and hopefully later, a date!"

I want us to value our beliefs and love of our Maker more than our style.

That's what I want you to get out of this blog.  Just take this one thing.  Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul and mind.  Love Him fully with the life He gave to you.


To finish off, I want to tell you something else my dear friend Candace once told me.  "If you're offended by this, I sort of want to say sorry and sort of want to tell you to grow thicker skin."

Revo Cup

You pull open the heavy door.  Hear the jingle of the bell announcing your presence.

It takes a minute for your eyes to adjust to the dimly lit room.  You can make out tables and chairs; a couple sofas.  You take a couple of steps into the room and feel the heat flood over your frozen body.  The wind is icy outside!  What a relief to have a warm place to relax.

There's a blonde boy/man with a mustache working the register and making the coffee.  Just another Saturday.  Nothing to write home about.  He looks up, smiles, keeps your eye contact for a moment.  But not too long, otherwise it would be socially awkward.  He goes back to making the coffee for the frumpy lady in front of you in line.  She turns, looks you up and down and you can tell she's labeling you in her mind.  Eh,  no big deal.  It's Saturday.  And you decided that it was going to be a good day.  She can't ruin your day.  Nobody can.  They can only ruin your day if you let them.

The frumpy lady goes on her way with her double shot mocha frappe deluxe with fat free milk half caffeinated chai americano latte.

The blonde boy/man makes eye contact, smiles, and asks, "What can I get for you today, miss?"  You crinkle your nose and think.  Decisions, decisions.  Maybe a mocha, or a hot chocolate!  Anything hot sounds wonderful.  No.  You take that back.  Today is most definitely a chai latte day.  Here's to hoping the blonde boy/man doesn't make a crappy one.  Even a crappy chai wouldn't ruin your day!

You pay the blonde boy/man, make chit chat, you can tell he thinks you're pretty.  Then he gives you your drink, apologizes for the nonexistent wait and waits for you to look away.

Now comes the hard part, choosing your seat.  This takes much thought.  You don't want to sit too near the door or you will be blasted with cold air every time a customer enters.  You can't sit too near the register so that the blonde boy/man doesn't think you are suggesting further conversation.  You don't want to sit at a large conference table, you'll feel all alone.  But the sofas and lounge chairs are suggestive that you want someone to sit and converse with you.  You decide upon a small table, three chairs, with room for your computer and a book.  Then you unpack.  You scope out the rest of the room; one old Indian man reading a paper.  That's it.  Light Christmas music is playing in the background.  Perfect.

You pull out Mary Poppins.  P.L. Travers was such a great guy.  The story comes alive in the depths of your imagination.  You can see Julie Andrews flying down the street, the constable giving you a tour of Cherry Tree Lane,  Jane and Michael in their dirty nursery, and Bert drawing chalk wonders on the side walk.

This is a good Saturday.

Humility? No problem.

So what's with all the humility talks lately?

Do they think college kids are too proud or something?

I went to Christian Challenge (a campus ministry) for the first time last week,  then to Faith Evangelical Free on Sunday morning.  I swear, all the pastors in Manhappenin' are conspiring together to talk about humility.  But really, who needs it?

Obviously, I'm being sarcastic.  The sermons have been really good; really convicting.

Christian Challenge had a talk I especially appreciated.  He discussed a true worshiper.  What a true worshiper looks like.  So check this out.  It's worth your time.

1. A true worshiper is humble.

Convicting right off the bat.  How bothersome.  Exodus 34:18 is the Lord talking about when He delivered the Israelites from their bondage in Egypt.  He is seeking to teach the Jews humility by remembering when He so graciously led them from captivity.  He rescued them.  They were stuck.  There was so exit.  He rescued them.  He commands them to remember that.

2. A humble worshiper grieves and confesses their sins and failures to God.

Exodus 33:4, the Lord sternly rebukes the Jews.  They show their grief by abstaining from wearing jewelry and fine clothes.  They confess to the Lord.  They spend time grieving their humanness to the Creator of the world.

3. A humble worshiper remembers his first love.  (Possibly the most convicting.  Watch out.)

Exodus 33:12-15.  I love this passage.  So much.  God tells the Israelites they will soon go to the Promised Land.  Moses inquires about who will lead them.  God tells Moses not to worry, the Lord will be with them.  Moses then has the balls to say, "If you don't personally go with us, don't make us leave this place."  Do I have that kind of courage?  Do I have the guts to say, if God isn't with me, I won't go.  Or I won't do this.  Or I won't marry this person.  The Lord is the only One that matters in the world, yet the hesitance I feel is my sin nature coming out.  Could I and would I straight up say to the Lord, "if you're not, I'm not."  That's what my namesake did.  Ruth was super kick-butt.  She was all like, "Naomi, monkey-see, monkey-do."  She chose God.  Ruth chose God.  I want to choose God.  I want you to choose God.

4. A humble worshiper looks to the needs of others.

Exodus 33:15.  Moses asked the Lord, well really, he pleaded with the Lord not to make the Israelites go if the Lord was not accompanying them.  Moses cried out from the depths of his heart and pleaded that the Lord not forsake them.  This might have been partly selfish on his part, but then again, can you blame him?  The man saw God's back.  The man shone with the radiance of God.  Moses looked to the needs of those around him when he pleaded with the Lord.

5. A humble worshiper values how others bring glory to God.

Exodus 33:16.  Now Moses starts playing lawyer.  He's convincing God to go with them.  He pretty makes a pros and cons list.  Brothers and sisters, we were created to bring glory to God.  We were created to praise His name.  We must hold each other accountable that our actions are pleasing and glorifying to Christ the King.  We must value the glory we as His people bring Him.  Father give us awareness.

6. A humble worshiper reflets the glory of God.

Exodus 34:29-30.  So this is crazy.  Moses comes down after a nice chat with God.  Is specifically says that he was unaware that his face had become radiant because he had spoken to the Lord.  Because of this, the Jews were afraid to come near him.  How crazy!  The Lord pretty much, rubbed some glory off on 'Ole Moses.  I pray that the Lord would bestow upon me a joy that shines and radiates the love of Christ.  I also pray that He would bestow the same joy to my fellow brothers and sisters.  I pray that He would make it evident to unbelievers that there is a difference about me.  The Holy Spirit lives in me!  I must live my life to honor Him!  Let us glorify the Lord and reflect His greatness!

I'm falling in love with Exodus.  And I might name one of my son's Moses.