I…I Will Be Thin Again February 8, 2010

Hi.  My name is Angela.

And I’m…overweight.

There.  I said it.

I’ve actually known this for a while now.  Now I am not saying this because I am fishing for compliments.  I am saying this because I am finally coming to grips with it.  I’m quite fascinated by this sudden realization, actually, because I’ve never struggled with my weight until now.  Now, I am not grotesquely overweight or anything, nor am I considered obese.  But I recently entered my weight, height, and age into one of those BMI calculator thingamabobs, and there it was.  It very plainly and very clearly, albeit very politely, told me I was chunky and needed to drop a few pounds.  Dang.

Like I said, I’ve known that I was a little overweight for a while; more precisely since the birth of my third child.  I was thin when I got pregnant with the first three, and lost the weight very quickly and very easily after the first two.  And then this funny thing happened to me after the third kid:  My body kinda liked the extra padding and invited it along for an extended stay.  Then I got pregnant with #4 before I could even drive myself to the gym.  And I’ve been carrying that weight around with me ever since.

It was easy for me to have a couple of kids and drop the weight.  I was young and in shape when I started having children.  Prior to my stint as an Olympic procreator, I was an AFAA certified aerobics instructor who taught 12 classes a week.  I’ve run the Peachtree Road Race twice and loved every kilometer of it.  But that was four kids ago. And something something pounds ago.

You see, I am actually one of those weirdos that, deep down, really enjoys exercise.  I love aerobics, running, hiking, biking, you name it.  I’ve just gotten really tired lately, and the idea of adding regular exercise, on top of everything I already do feels impossible.  Maybe it’s because I’m taking care of a family of six, and as is typical of moms, I give myself the leftovers.

To make matters even worse, not one single member of my immediate family has more than an ounce of fat on them; which, unfortunately, makes me the “fat one” in the family.  My father is a retired Army Ranger who’s idea of a good time is fasting for long periods and running in sub-zero temperatures in the ghettos of downtown Detroit.  I’m totally not kidding about that, either.  And my brother is a…well, let’s just say he works for the government and he does a bunch a stuff I’m not allowed to talk or write about.  Needless to say, you wouldn’t want to piss that dude off.

And both of my little sisters look like supermodels.  Seriously.  It’s actually quite sickening.  In fact, I think I might hate them because of it.  Not really.  Only slightly.  But that’s okay.  Neither one of them has any kids.  So if and when the day comes that they decide to embark on the journey of motherhood, I will be right there offering my help to both of them as the older, wiser, fatter, sister, and silently laughing at them as their petite little nubile bodies balloon to the size of small freight carriers. 

And my mother doesn’t help matters either.  I seriously think she’s a size two, and whenever I ask her if she’s hungry and would like something to eat, she responds with something incredibly annoying like, “Oh, no thanks, I’m not hungry.  I ate a couple of grapes a few hours ago.”  Psssht.

So I’m the stereotypical skinny white girl turned fat, frumpy housewife.  Awesome!

I think I’ve been feeling particularly sensitive about all this since my dear friend Holly recently started a brand new photography blog of pictures that she’s taken of her friends throughout the years.  She’s a wonderful photographer.  And as you might have already guessed, I’m one of those friends.  Go ahead and peruse her blog.  No, really.  I STRONGLY encourage you to look at all her pictures.  Several of them are of me.  And I ain’t gonna lie…I LOOK GOOOOOOOD.  In fact, I’m smoking hot, if I do say so myself.  However, I was also 20 years old and childless.  I’m now 33 and have four.  So the old grey mare, she ain’t what she used to be.

What I find particularly hilarious about all this is that this is what I still look like in my head.  And then I’ll see a recent photograph that someone has taken of me and think “Dear God, is that really what I look like now?!?!?!?”  It’s like my appearance is forever frozen in my mind.  So while the version of me in my head is actually better than the real-life version, I am realizing that I have some delusions about my physical appearance.  And I’m finally ready to do something about it.

I tend to think of the world in terms of shoulds and should nots.  As in, this SHOULD NOT be this way.  That SHOULD NEVER have happened.  This is what SHOULD have happened.  I tend to be a little bit too idealistic and therefore not very realistic at times.  I am a tired mom of four who used to never have to worry about her weight.  I SHOULD NOT have to make a special effort just to exercise.  People in other countries don’t spend hours in the gym, why SHOULD I?  Well, here’s the deal:  People in other countries don’t consume massive quantities of high fructose corn syrup and processed foods either.  We do.  This is America.  And in America, if you don’t exercise, you’ll get fat.  Period.

My friend Erin and I were discussing this not too long ago.  She said, and I agree, that there are two types of older people in this world:  The kind that exercise and eat well, and those that do not.  And they’re either thin and healthy or overweight and unhealthy.  When you’re young, you can eat Cheez Whiz and Fried Snickers Bars (hopefully not together) and still look pretty good on the outside.  Your bodies are so much more forgiving.  But eventually that stuff catches up to you as you get older and manifests in your weight, blood pressure, cholesterol, sugar levels, etc.  It sucks.  But that’s just the way it is.

So, as a family we’re resolving to eat better and to exercise at least 3 days a week.  Ren’s actually way ahead of me.  He’s been exercising faithfully for about month now.  One of the ways we’ve chosen to eat better is to buy locally and organically through Athens Locally Grown, which deserves its own separate blog post all to itself.

So, is it fair that I had to get up at 4:30 this morning to head to the Y in the freezing cold to end my relationship with sedentariness?  I personally don’t think so.  But I’m realizing that my waistline doesn’t give a crap about fairness, and the longer I continue to gripe and moan about it, my waistline will continue to increase, and then the weight will be even harder to lose.  So I’m doing something about it now while I’m feeling inspired.  Feel free to pray for me as I embark on this endeavor!

A Movie Review, an Epiphany, & a Birthday Wish January 8, 2010

I saw Julie & Julia recently.  Before I’d seen it, several people told me I needed to see it, and that the movie reminded them of me.  I don’t know what exactly about the movie reminded each person of me, but nevertheless I was intrigued.  Now, as you can probably imagine, as a woman with 4 small kids, I don’t really get to the movie theater much these days.  Pretty much if it’s not available to watch on Netflix’s Instant Streaming feature, I haven’t seen it.  A few opportunities to see the flick passed me by, so I simply resolved that I would eventually watch it once it came out on Netflix.

So back in December I went on what was supposed to be a 4-day cruise.  It was fabulous.  But then on the day of supposed debarkation, we woke up to find ourselves parked in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico surrounded by a thick as molasses blanket of fog.  So our 4-day cruise turned into a 5-day cruise.  Now before you start rolling your eyes and thinking to yourselves “Awww, poor babies,” we were, at that point ready to go home and be with our husbands and our kids.  At that point in the trip, I was incredibly thankful that I was in fact married to a dude, as I had tolerated as much estrogen concentration as I could possibly handle. 

Enter Julie & Julia.  The cruise director announced during breakfast that they would be playing movies in the Universe Lounge (a Vegas-style “show” room, where we’d witnessed a brutal massacring Beatles’ tunes which appeared to be performed by high school students just the night before.  I believe they were trying to keep the captives entertained in an effort to prevent us from all going stir-crazy.  We were elated:  Julie & Julia would definitely be a step-up from the Beatles review.  I would finally get to see the movie that everyone had recommended to me.

Once the movie started, I was immediately taken in.  Meryl Streep is utterly brilliant as Julia Child, for whom I must say I’ve always had a soft spot.  As a 6-year old, I used to watch episodes of “The French Chef” with Julia and “Louisiana Cookin’” with Justawn Wilsawn on our one available channel on a military base in Germany.  You see, I come from a family who loves to cook.  All my memories of my paternal grandmother, who was from Malta, were of her standing in the kitchen.  In fact, I don’t remember her ever entering any other part of her house.  My dad followed in her footsteps.  He even taught my mom how to cook.  And I am proud to say that each one of my siblings is a fearless artist in the kitchen.  These are my humble beginnings as a foodie.  I love food.  I love to eat.  I love to cook.  Food is a passion.  Cooking is therapeutic.  I already loved the movie before I’d ever even seen it.  Similarity #1.

Then you’ve got Julie Powell played by Amy Adams (you probably know her as Giselle from “Enchanted”).  A 30-something young wife who finds herself in New York City living with her husband in a cramped apartment above a pizzeria.  We find her working as a frustrated secretary in a cubicle, whose passions include cooking and writing.  Similarity #2.

In summary, she decides to embark on a project that involves cooking through Julia Child’s famous cookbook Mastering the Art of French Cooking in a year as she blogs about it.  536 recipes in 365 days.  Then she gets a book deal, becomes famous, and they make a movie out of her story starring the most insanely talented actress of all time.  Yeah, that’s not really a similarity.

Needless to say, I loved the movie.  In fact, I loved it so much and talked endlessly about it to my husband when I came back home that he bought me the DVD for Christmas.  Yet, I haven’t even touched on my favorite aspect of this story.  The movie was about two women, but it was equally about the men in their lives who stood by them and helped them achieve success–their husbands.  These women were married to loving, kind, supportive, and dedicated husbands–Julia to Paul and Julie to Eric– who, it could be argued, were the driving forces behind each woman’s success.  The movie was incredibly pro marriage.  Had it not been for their husbands, we probably wouldn’t even know who Julie & Julia are.  Don’t get me wrong.  These weren’t “she wears the pants” kinds of relationships.  Both marriages were healthy, loving, stable, communicative, intimate…Equal.  They moved when their husbands jobs required them to, even if it meant sacrificing comfort and giving up lives that they loved.  They moved as a unit.  One.  They functioned together.  They were a team.  It was incredibly beautiful to watch.

Similarity…number…3…

You might say it was a recipe consisting of 1 woman who hadn’t seen her husband in 5 days, mixed together with a dash of estrogen overload.  Yet, as I watched these men dedicate themselves so fearlessly to their wives, I realized that that’s exactly what I have.  I married a man who absolutely loves seeing people become everything they were meant to be.  At times, his ambition and his fearless optimism drive me absolutely nuts.  But then again, I honestly can’t imagine living without them.  Today, I love the person that I’ve become.  And I would have to say that 85% of that is because of Ren Buckland.  The man is a visionary.  He believes in me.  He believes in people.  His hope is endless.  He pushes me to become who God created me to be.  Even when it’s not convenient for him or me.  He is patient when I am feisty.  He is calm when I go crazy.  He is sweet when I am…not.  He listens to me.  And he loves me.  He is dedicated.  He is faithful.  He is gentle.  He is kind.  He’s selfless.  He doesn’t demand his own way.  He’s a perfect gentleman.  And he’s mine.  Till death do us part.

I don’t know why it took a movie to help me see all that.  But since I’ve been home, I feel differently.  I look at him and I see these things.  Even when we have a disagreement.  Even when he’s late coming home from work.  Even when he’s tired and cranky.  Even then.  I count my blessings.  I am more in love with him today than I was the day I married him almost eleven years ago.  And who was born 42 years ago today.

Happy Birthday, Sweetie.  I love you more than I can say.

Suffering Better January 1, 2010

I’m not big on New Year’s Resolutions.  Yet, I find myself reflecting on some things as we enter 2010, thus leading me to a couple resolutions conclusions.  2009 was a really good year for the Buckland family in many ways.  While it seemed that storms were raging all around us, we remained sheltered in what, at times, felt like a protective bubble.  Our kids thrived, our marriage thrived, and our lives were, for the most part, pretty peaceful.  During one of the worst economic crises our country has ever seen, Ren’s company also had its most profitable year.

Oh, and Zoloft is AWESOME.  But I’m sure that has had absolutely NOTHING to do with it. 

Please hear my heart, I am certainly not trying to brag about any of this.  Just reflecting.  If it makes you feel better, 2008, on the other hand, was the exact opposite.  In fact, I will just go ahead and say that 2008 pretty much sucked.  I won’t depress you with all the details.  Those of you who are closest to us know all of them anyway.  And for those of you that don’t, read this and you can get an idea of the fact that I pretty much lost my mind.  I really feel like I suffered some sort of mental, emotional, and spiritual collapse that had me questioning absolutely EVERYTHING I’ve ever believed.  So 2009, for me, was a year of reconstructing.  Rebuilding.  Piece by piece, picking up shards of shattered illusions and putting them back together to form a stronger, more durable, and healthier reality.  This past year, I’ve relied heavily on a foundation of simplicity.  If I liked it, it stayed.  If I didn’t, it went out the window.  If I wanted to do something, I did it.  If I didn’t want to, well, I didn’t.  I got back in touch with the things that made me tick.  I started listening to myself more, all in an effort to take better care of myself, my husband, and my family.  And what I realized in that process was how much I absolutely loved what I was doing.

So I’m here.  I’m happy.  All is well.  Yet, I have some regrets.

I’ve been following Matt Chandler‘s journey as he, together with his precious family, courageously battles cancer.  He was diagnosed with anaplastic oligodendroglioma (an aggressive, malignant brain tumor) this past November.  What I find simply amazing about Matt is his attitude.  He’s just a little bit older than me, has three kids, a lovely wife, and is the pastor of an incredibly successful and rapidly growing church in Flower Mound, Texas.  By all outward appearances, the guy “has it all.”  Oh yeah, except for that whole brain tumor thing.  And yet, I’ve heard him refer to his illness as a season that God has “called him to.” He doesn’t ask God, “Why me?”  That’s pretty amazing.  I must admit that, all things considered, I probably have very limited experience with suffering.  I mean, I’ve been a part of a sub-culture of Christianity that will rebuke a demon for getting the wrong order at Taco Bell.  I don’t know if it’s a product of living in America, as a member of a wealthy society or what.  Maybe we’re not really taught about suffering.  In a land of “rights” and privileges, does anyone ever believe that it might be good, even beneficial to, heaven forbid, do without something?  Or perhaps go through a trial?  In fact, I think most people you talk to would agree that we shouldn’t have to suffer.  And yet we do.  Whether we should or should not is irrelevant.  We do indeed suffer.  Each one in our own way.  No matter what laws are put in place.  No matter what institutions are formed.  There will always be suffering.  It’s one of the few guarantees in this life.  As Rob Bell famously says in his Nooma video, “It rains in our lives.  A lot.”  It’s not about whether or not the storms of life will strike.  They will and they do.  Just because.

The Bible is actually chock full of stories of suffering;  deserving people as well as undeserving people suffering.  Sometimes suffering comes as a result of one’s own selfish and harmful behaviors.  And other times it simply comes to those who merely get caught in the crossfires of others’ selfish and harmful behaviors; they are merely casualties of injustice.  Other times, it just simply happens.  I’ve learned that there isn’t always a direct correlation between good or bad behavior and unfortunate circumstances.  We live in a world where things are not perfect, and yet we yearn for perfection.

So much of what we do is done in an effort to try to buffer our suffering, cheat death, get rich quick, and numb our pain.  But pain is part of the deal.  It always has been.

Now, before you go and jump off a cliff, I’ve actually discovered hope in all of this.  I realize that even through it all–through all the pain, the suffering, the hurt, the evils that this world sometimes throws our way–God is always good.  And He is always doing good.  No matter what darkness may come, there will never be enough to eclipse the light of His great goodness and love.  He is always there, behind the scenes, at work, weaving together all our messes to make a finely crafted work of art.  I feel as though that in this past year, I was allowed to see that first hand.

As I look back on 2009, I realize that it’s easy to be thankful, praise God, and find contentment when life is easy.  I am embarrassed as I reflect on 2008, when I did a lot of cursing, crying, whining and complaining.  I want to learn to suffer better.  Don’t get me wrong, I am not one of those flaky Christians who begs God to send them through fiery trials to make them more like Jesus.  Heyyyyyyyyl naw.  I am not asking for more suffering.  I am not a masochist.  I am not even asking to suffer perfectly.  Whatever that means.  I am, however, simply asking for God to help me suffer better.  In order to bring Him more glory, because I see as a sign of respect.  It’s letting Him, and those around you, know that you know that God will bring you through this.  Because that’s what He’s good at.  He will not leave you in this mess.  You may not come out looking all shiny and sparkly.  But what you will become will be something even better.  Something proven.  Something stronger.

The next time a storm comes, it won’t do any good for me to ask “Why me?”  I should be asking myself, “Why not me?”

And finally, we that believe in Christ have this blessed hope through our suffering:

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they are good for us–they help us learn to be patient. And patience develops strength of character in us and helps us trust God more each time we use it until finally our hope and faith are strong and steady. Then, when that happens, we are able to hold our heads high no matter what happens and know that all is well, for we know how dearly God loves us, and we feel this warm love everywhere within us because God has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love.  (Romans 5:3-5, Living)

God, please allow me the privilege of holding my head high no matter what happens, knowing that all is well, knowing how dearly you love me, and how well you will keep me throughout this coming year and every year after.

Well, this is embarassing December 28, 2009

Uh.  Hi.  Remember me?  I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t, considering that my last blog post was more than 3 months ago.  However, in my defense, life has been crazy for us lately.  A good kind of crazy, but crazy nonetheless.  I really haven’t been keeping up with reading any other blogs either.  So, if you’ve posted some earth-shattering news, and haven’t gotten a response from me, I do apologize.  I’ve sort of been out of the loop.  I’ve heard rumors that blogs are on their way out, that blogging is dead, etc. (which I totally do NOT believe; we Americans are much too narcissistic to ever let such a thing happen), but let me reassure you the reader that that has nothing to do with why I went on a little break.  I’ve just been busy.  And, I guess, in keeping with the spirit of this blog, I’ve been too preoccupied with actually living and enjoying my life to sit down and write any of it down.  Yet, some interesting things have happened, and that warrants taking some time to fill you all in.  So, let me see if I can sum it all up and give you the Cliffs Notes version (remember those?).

Gosh…where do I start?

In the middle of September, we were blessed beyond words to have our dear friends Erin over at The Joy Before Me and Wes “Mind Grapes” Whitener and their two beautiful daughters stay with us for an entire week.  It was sheer bliss.  We’ve known Erin and Wes for years, and since they now live in Texas, we don’t get to see them as often as we would like (which would be every day).  However, we got in some great, uninterrupted (aside from the distractions of 6 small children under one roof) catching up.  During their visit, Erin, who is a terrifically skilled hair stylist, gave this poor, tired, mom a much-needed hair revival.  I thank God for her every time I look in the mirror.

Then we moved into October, and we celebrated the coming of Fall in the typical Buckland fashion.  We picked apples at Hillcrest Orchards up in Ellijay, Georgia and went to the pumpkin patch at Washington Farms–our yearly traditions.  This year, however, we decided to mix things up a little bit and, with much begging, pleading, tears and gnashing of teeth, I took the 4 Buckland kids trick-or-treating this year for the very first time.  Ren and I have never known what to do as a family with Halloween.  We both celebrated Halloween as kids.  In fact, if you asked me what my favorite holiday was as a child, it wasn’t Christmas like every other kid.  It was Halloween.  Always Halloween.  I loved the costumes.  The candy.  The excitement.  The spooky fun of it all.  Ren, on the other hand, is not particularly fond of the holiday.  And he doesn’t love the idea, and understandably so, of subjecting our young children to the darkest, most macabre holiday of the year.  So in years past, we’ve just sort of opted out of Halloween.  But that also presents some problems.  We’ve done the mega lame Christian “alternatives” to Halloween, which is essentially trick-or-treating for cheap candy out in the middle of some cow pasture in Boonieville.  Or we’ve ignored the holiday altogether and gone to Chuck E. Cheese, i.e. Hell on Earth.  Given those options, I think my kids might be safer dressing up as zombies, going door-to-door, and risking razor blades in Snickers bars.  We reached a compromise, and so one Renaissance princess, Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, Batman, Tinkerbell and I went out on October 31st and had a blast.  If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em, right?

November keeps us busy with my birthday on the 1st, Josephine’s birthday on the 15th–the big 5 year mark for her, celebrated with an extremely girly catered tea party, and Thanksgiving with Ren’s folks.  I used Alton Brown’s Roast Turkey recipe to the letter for the second year in a row, and I sincerely have no qualms about nominating myself Turkey Roasting Master of the Millenium.  Best. Turkey. EVARRRR!!!!!

I am sure I am missing some other important events, but I am just giving you the highlights that my tired brain can actually remember.

Immediately after Thanksgiving, we acquired a puppy.  Yes, you read that correctly.  A puppy.  I came home from dropping off Jo at school one morning and there, across the street in the middle of our neighbor’s yard was an incredibly cute and sweet Beagle puppy.  We went door to door, called the shelter, put up fliers and searched desperately for its owner.  But as you have probably already predicted, she didn’t have one.  Apparently, there are morons in this world that think it’s a good idea to take a completely helpless baby animal and dump it off somewhere, in the hopes that some sorry sap (Stop looking at me!) will find it and give it a good home.  Well, we tried.  For two weeks, we kept whom I would later christen “Hell Puppy.”  She chewed our house to shreds, pooped and peed all over the floors even after taking her outside every 15-20 minutes in the cold, and howled and brayed (a Beagle’s trademark) every time we put her in her crate.  She was adorably cute and a good-natured pet, but her final week with us had me seriously questioning my sanity.  So we called Ren’s sister, who’s a veterinarian (Dr. Lori), and she found a loving home for our Hell Puppy in South Carolina, complete with several children and a farm.  Maybe when the kids are a little bit older and can actually be what some might call “helpful” and when we can afford a fenced in backyard, we’ll get a dog.  But not now.  No way.  No how.

In the beginning of December I went on a cruise with 5 of my dearest friends.  Kristen over at Foodieville, Angie at Hipps Family Blog, Amy from Amy’s Porch, Amy Mcollum, Tanya Grisson and I embarked the Carnival Fantasy “Funship” for a 4-day cruise to Cozumel.  I can honestly say that I would travel with all of them any time, any where.  You’ll never meet a greater, funner, more laid-back group of ladies.  That trip was exactly what I needed.  Being away from Ren and the kids for that long made me miss them so much.  The best part of the trip for me was knowing that I had them to come home to.

You all are well aware of my not-so-festive sentiments regarding the holidays.  However, that might have changed this year.  We just wrapped up a banner Christmas here at the Buckland home.  The kids had a great Christmas.  Santa was really good to them this year.  As he was to us.  We are so pleased to announce the newest members of our family:  Our nephew Caedmon Michael Ananya and niece Helen Claire Betselot Geddings.  Ren’s sister, Lori, and her husband, Brian, adopted the two most beautiful, amazing children from Ethiopia over Christmas, and we got to meet them over the weekend.  I am so impressed with these kids.  Caedmon, or “Noni” as they called him in Ethiopia, came right in and acted like he’d always been a part of our family.  They fit right in.  I feel so honored and so privileged that I get to be a part of these kids’ lives watch them grow.  I think my heart may have grown a size or two.  God is good.

And that brings us up to date.  That’s all I’ve got for now.  I’ll try not to let another 3 months go by before my next post!

Bad Tither September 4, 2009

First of all, I have to give credit to the snappy title of this post to its creator, Mr. Wes Whitener.  It’s a song of his by his band The Sheeps.  You should totally check them out.  They rock.  I’ve been thinking about that song a lot lately.  I hope he’s not going to expect any royalties.  Cuz I ain’t got ‘em.

As you’ll soon realize further into this post.

So, a while back, in this post, I mentioned duplicity.  Duplicity is basically another word for deceit; having a different intent than what is being professed or projected.  Saying one thing but doing another thing entirely; double-mindedness.  It is the opposite of simplicity:  Being of one mind and one heart; saying what you mean and doing what you say you’ll do.  It seems that I have lived a large portion of my adult life while operating under many duplicitous and double-minded motives; namely, that if you do good things in the name of Jesus, that God will somehow pay you back by the butt load bless you for it.

Yeah, it’s pretty embarrassing when I admit that out loud.

I have to contend, though, that I don’t think I am the only person who thinks this way.  In talking to other believers and in examining my own life, when something goes wrong, we tend to get a little huffy with God–as if He owes us because we are, after all, such faithful, tithing church-goers.  Maybe it’s human nature.  But I also must admit that, on numerous occasions, I have heard tithing preached to me as a sort of dangling carrot.  “Do this for God, and I PROMISE you, He will bless you back.”  “Give to this campaign, and just wait and see what God will do because of your faithfulness.”  Appeals are made to our duplicitous natures.  Most often this idea is backed up with this verse from Malachi as a sort of biblical proof that this is a promise that can indeed be counted upon:

‘Bring the whole tithe into the storehouse, that there may be food in my house. Test me in this,’ says the Lord Almighty, ‘and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that you will not have room enough for it.  I will prevent pests from devouring your crops, and the vines in your fields will not cast their fruit,’ says the Lord Almighty.  ‘Then all the nations will call you blessed, for yours will be a delightful land,’ says the Lord Almighty.–Malachi 3:10-12 (NIV)

Hmmm.  Well, let me tell you a little bit about my experience.

I was 21 when I married a wealthy and generous man.  Not too bad so far, huh?    I was young, wide-eyed, and albeit a bit naive.  I didn’t possess any complex money managing skills.  At the time as a college dropout, I made about $200 a week.  I spent exactly however much I made.  I paid my bills and my rent on time, and I didn’t really own anything and I didn’t owe anything.  I kept things pretty simple.  So when I married Ren, who owned his own business, a home, and several shares in the stock market, needless to say I was very impressed and in way over my head.

Well, as the years went by, after the wedding, heading up a ministry that tanked, owning a business that didn’t net a profit for the first few years, after going back to college and finishing my degree, after having four kids, and after purchasing two rental properties that have been sitting vacant for the last two years…the wealth with which we started turned into a deficit.  A massive. Suffocating.Deficit.  Plain and simple, we weren’t paying attention.  All blame and all fingers pointed right back to us.  We were foolish.  We spent when we should have saved.  We jumped when we should have sat still.  Mistakes were made.

The irony in all of this, though, is throughout the entire time we were such good tithers!  In our minds, I guess we thought all our foolish spending habits were countered by our faithful tithe.  I truly believed that if we just kept tithing that God would take care of us and provide everything that we needed.  We believed that, as was taught by the verse in Malachi, if we brought our whole tithe to church (which we did faithfully and then some–even when we didn’t necessarily have it to give), we would eventually be so blessed that we would not be able to contain it.

Yet my reasons for tithing were duplicitous, at best.  I always felt under compulsion to give, because I saw this as a direct mandate from God.  So I reasoned that if I made the sacrifice and chose to obey God, that He had to pay me back.  To be quite frank, I think we thought that one day we were going to be rich.  That as long as we were giving and serving God, He would one day bless our efforts monetarily and that’s all it took.  Pretty sick, isn’t it?  It didn’t matter that, in the meantime, we were spending far more than we were making.  It didn’t matter that we weren’t keeping a budget.  It didn’t matter that we bought pretty much whatever we wanted, whenever we wanted.  As long as we were tithing, God would provide, right?

I guess we were caught up in some sort of “prosperity theology.”  Of course, we probably wouldn’t have called it that, and I’m fairly certain that we’ve even made fun of this theology in public.  And I really don’t even know where we picked this up.  I’m wondering, though, if this is a common trap that American evangelicals fall into.  We believe that we are God’s chosen people, and since He’s omnipotent and owns everything, and that as long as we’re obedient and faithful to Him, He not only will meet all our needs but will go above and beyond and reward us with prosperity, health, wealth, and a life of leisure.  We are, after all, entitled to that aren’t we?

Riiiiiiiiight.  You mean like Jesus was?

I have also heard of what some Christians refer to as a “tithe promise.”  In other words, say they have an appliance, a car, or a leaky roof that could give out at any moment.  Well, they believe that because they are faithful tithers that God is somehow magically keeping it from falling apart for them.

Can we say Christian superstition, anyone?

I will say that God has taken care of us.  Because God is kind and loving and generous, not because we have done something to twist His arm into providing for us.  We have everything that we need, and we certainly don’t deserve any of it.  Every month our bills have been paid.  And we’ve even successfully stopped the bleeding, and, by the grace of God, are turning our situation around.  However, it hasn’t been without sacrifice.  It hasn’t been without pain.  It hasn’t been without depending at times on the charity of others, which I can tell you is the most humbling experience in the world.  Jesus said that it is better to give than to receive.  He wasn’t kidding around on that one.  We know from first hand experience we’d much rather be the ones giving than receiving.  Because the givers are the ones that have the stuff.  The receivers…well, do not.

I have heard preachers say that you can “tithe your way out of debt.”  I can barely type that without getting severely sick to my stomach.  Let me be frank:  You cannot tithe your way out of debt any more than you can eat your way towards weight loss!  By the same token, you cannot give your way to financial blessing either.

Let me be clear:  If you are giving to get, you won’t, and will probably go broke.

The Bible actually has a lot of sound financial wisdom for us about saving, spending, and giving.  It’s amazing to me, though, how these crazy, creepy doctrines worm their way into our psyches and take precedence over the sound advice that the Bible actually has to give.  Or maybe these are the messages that desperate preachers feel they have to preach in order to give their offerings a boost.  Either way, I think this is what happens when we read every verse of scripture as a mandate–as a prescription–instead of a description.  It’s also what happens when we turn off our brains and rely on others to interpret scripture for us, instead of relying on the common sense and the Holy Spirit that the good Lord gave to us.

And we wonder why tithing is such a touchy subject in church.  Christians often argue that low offerings reflect a person’s lack of trust in God.  I would argue, however, that it’s because they’re getting tired of being lied to and jerked around.  The world does that enough through fancy marketing techniques.  This practice should NOT be in our churches.  Period.

So, where do I stand on tithing now?  I think that giving is good and we all should do more of it.  However, I don’t believe we’re under any law to do so.  Boy, that sure takes the pressure off doesn’t it?  It might even actually make it a much more enjoyable thing to do.  Do some research on your own about the New Testament and the tithe.  People far more educated than me have done countless studies on this stuff, and they all come to the same conclusion.  Tithing should not be taught as obligatory under the New Covenant of Christ any more than the prohibition of eating pork or keeping a Saturday Sabbath.  In fact, if we have it, than we should give more than just ten percent.  And if we don’t have as much to give, than we should give only what we can.  I liked what Greg Koukl over at Stand to Reason has to say:

Christians shouldn’t ‘tithe.’ This O.T. legal obligation has been replaced by the New Testament moral obligation to give…and with a smile on your face…Instead of a legal requirement to tithe, we are offered the opportunity to give. One can decide for himself whether he should give five percent, 10 percent, or 15 percent. It’s up to him, according to whatever he has purposed in his own heart as God has prospered him.

The point is to give and give cheerfully.  Support those that are feeding you spiritually, because that’s love and gratitude in action.  And if you’re not a churchgoer, give to charities you believe in.  God doesn’t look at how much but rather how you are giving.  In other words, God is more concerned about the heart and the attitude with which you are giving.  So much of my giving in the past was done with a “What’s in it for me?” attitude.  And when I didn’t get what I thought was coming to me, I would become bitter and resentful.  Or I would become fearful of the calamity that was sure to befall someone upon finding out that they weren’t tithing.  I always gave but often it was more often “under compulsion” or out of fear of God’s disappointment in me or His withholding of blessings in my life.  I wonder now if, during those times, God would have much rather me not give anything at all.

So, I hereby propose a new way of teaching tithing.  Instead of approaching it as a biblical mandate, remind people of how much they have been given and how cool and how fun it is to be able to share that with others.  Generosity is good.  Selfishness isn’t.  Be sure to remind people that God is not going to give them any special reward for giving.  And likewise, God won’t be disappointed in you if you choose not to give.  God’s love for you is not based on how much you’re giving.  Don’t use the method of the dangling carrot.  Give, as the Bible says, cheerfully and NOT under compulsion.  Give because it’s an antidote for selfishness.  Give because you want to live a life of generosity.  Give and expect nothing in return.  Give because it is a privilege to do so.  Give because it’s the right thing to do.  And it is doing the right things that is most often itself the very reward.

Give because that’s what you would want someone to do for you, if and when you should ever find yourself in desperate need.

Ah, there’s that pesky Golden Rule again!

I’m convinced that anything else is downright manipulative.  Duplicitous even.  And, call me crazy, I just don’t think that’s the way God wants us to approach anything in this life.

The Paradoxical Commandments September 1, 2009

I am sure most of you have probably already read this poem before.  For some reason, I’m not sure I have ever seen it before.  My mom gave me a copy the other day, and it’s now on my fridge.  It is often attributed to Mother Teresa, called “The Anyway Poem,” because she had it written on the wall of her children’s home in Calcutta.  However, what she had written is based upon an inspirational poem by Dr. Kent M. Keith entitled “The Paradoxical Commandments.”  Anyway, it really blessed me, and I hope it blesses you, too.  This is a good one to read whenever you feel down and are in need a lift.

The Paradoxical Commandments
by Dr. Kent M. Keith

People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.

If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.

If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.

Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.

The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.

People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.

What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.

People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
Help people anyway.

Give the world the best you have and you’ll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.

Modern Psychology and the Fundamentalist August 14, 2009

I think it should be required by law of every Christian in America to take at least a few college courses in modern psychology.  It’s appalling and becoming increasingly apparent to us and to the rest of the world just how ignorant we’ve allowed ourselves to become concerning even the most basic subjects of secular studies.  I am learning more and more what a disconnect there is between what we as Evangelicals believe to be true and what is actually true.  Many of us are waking up to reality with symptoms similar to that of post traumatic stress disorder.  We are taught to believe, in 5 point sermons, that if we live and behave in certain ways, then God will bless us and we can expect certain results to follow.  But then what happens when we find the opposite is true?  We’ve done all the good stuff we know to do, but then we find ourselves deeply in debt.  Or a child dies.  Or a spouse leaves.  Or we’re clinically depressed.  Then following that logic, we must have done something to deserve it, right?

We believe that if it’s in the Bible then it must be true, and, conversely, that if it’s NOT in the Bible then it must NOT be true.  But what happens when life and Bible aren’t so black and white on certain subjects?  For example, the Bible doesn’t really address what to do when it comes to mental illnesses.  Sure, the Bible describes that which, today, thanks to modern science and medicine, we can now name.  It describes those who struggle with depression or even personality disorders, but back in those days were said to be struggling with “demons.”  So, we’ve taken that literally to mean that there are in fact demons plaguing everything, when in fact there might just be a perfectly sound medical reason behind it.  I think this is where the “demon behind every bush” mentality comes from, from which many Christians suffer.  Whenever someone had symptoms of what we now know to be biologically explainable, it was reasoned that a “demon” was behind that behavior.  Could it possibly be that they simply lacked the knowledge and the vocabulary that we have today?  Demons are, after all, a whole lot easier to explain and shift blame upon than abandonment issues and schizotypal personality disorder!

This is where I think the life of the American Evangelical is guided by a sense of Christian “superstition” more than it is on true Biblical knowledge and sound wisdom.  In an effort to remain untouched by the evils of this world, we have separated and sheltered ourselves, at the cost of being in touch with reality, and allowed our lives and our faith to become something resembling that of an ancient relic in a museum:  interesting to look at, but having no legitimate function and thus serving no real purpose in today’s world.

Many church leaders give counseling, while they are hardly qualified to do so.  Very few of them have had any training.  Even fewer have any respect at all for modern psychology as a legitimate science.  Many of them are, in fact, in dire need of counseling themselves.

I have, for years, struggled with depression and anxiety.  Several of my family members have struggled with these conditions as well.  My aunt and my first cousin (my dad’s sister and her son) both committed suicide due to mental illness.  Of course, I went for years without being diagnosed.  Once I became a Christian, I heard that depression was a “demon” and that if I just prayed enough, fasted enough, read my Bible enough, stopped listening to all that rock ‘n roll music (it is the “Devil’s music,” after all), stopped watching R-rated movies, stopped drinking alcohol, and a whole host of other prescriptions offered by misguided but well-meaning believers, that I would no longer be plagued by that demonic spirit of depression.  I think all that was missing from this spell was the addition of an eye of newt, frog’s breath, and the bark of a dog at the moon at midnight!  Ren and I have remarked on how similar witchcraft and Christianity can be in certain circles.  We call it Witchianity.  We read our book of special magic words (the Bible) and recite our incantations (prayers) over whatever situation we currently need help with and–POOF!  Your wish is my command.

Needless to say, here I am 13 years, 4 children, 3 mortgages, and 2 bouts of postpartum depression later, and I find myself on Zoloft.  *Screech*  What?!?!?  You mean all that praying and scripture recitation didn’t help???  I have been on Zoloft now for about 4-5 months.  And what can I say?  It doesn’t feel like I’m “on” anything at all.  I feel, for the first time in a long time, normal.  Whatever that means.  I feel more like myself than I’ve ever felt.  I feel like this is the real me; the “me” that was previously being hidden by and shrouded in guilt, fear, anger, shame, and depression.  It’s honestly one of the best decisions I’ve ever made in my life.  I now think to myself, “So this is what it feels like to love what you do.  This is what it feels like to be thankful and not be afraid all the time.  This is what it feels like to actually enjoy your life.”

I now understand why the rest of the world is so completely fed up with us and our message.  I get it.  I’ve been told the same thing.  “Just change yourself by doing X, Y, Z.  You’ll be much, much happier.”

Yeah?  But what if it’s not that simple?  Because I’m living proof of that it isn’t.

I don’t think the Bible is supposed to be an owner’s manual of answers for all problems we have in this life.  I’ve often thought that instead of reading the Bible as a prescription for life, is it to be read more as a description of the lives of men and women, who were inspired by God.  The Bible is not a science book, nor is it a self-help manual.

We preach values that even we cannot keep.  What are people supposed to think of parents who tout the political message of abstinence, while their children are getting pregnant out of wedlock?  Or a pastor that preaches against homosexuality, and yet has clandestine affairs with a male prostitute in his spare time?  How is the rest of the world supposed to take our views on marriage seriously when even we do not, and those within the church are experiencing the same divorce  rate as those outside the church?  There’s a serious problem here, and it’s high time we paid attention to it.  It might seem that I’m coming down too hard on my peeps here, but I think it might be necessary.  We are smarter than this.  We can do better.

A few years back there was a popular baby-rearing method floating around in Christian circles called Babywise or Growing Kids God’s Way (rather presumptuous title, don’t you think?) developed by Gary and Anne Marie Ezzo.  While many have used and praised the method for getting children to sleep through the night, much of their advice goes directly against what the American Academy of Pediatrics recommends.  Still, because they were Christians, many well-meaning but misguided believers put their methods into practice.  Since then, thankfully, their teachings have become quite controversial and less popular, since much of what they taught has been debunked by actual doctors, as unfortunately many babies suffered as a result of their lack of expertise.

I am tired of the lie that we must either choose between the Bible or what the secular world has to offer.  There’s the world’s way or there’s God’s way.  God’s politics or the world’s politics.  Is God really a card-carrying Republican?  Must there always be such an ultimatum?  Is God really so far removed from the ways of men and women?  This is fundamentalism at its very worst, because it limits the ways in which God can work.  Talk about putting God in a box.  Fundamentalism, no matter what it’s based upon, is a dangerous way to approach this complex, complicated, vast world in which we live.  If we choose to believe only in science, then we’ve turned our backs on all the wonderful ways that faith in God can enrich a person’s life.  If we choose to believe in JUST the Bible, then we reject all the valuable information that field experts have dedicated years of their lives to discover.  I think the challenge for us to try and find a balance somewhere in between, for it is there where we will find the most peace.

Once again, Michael, over at The Christian Monist, has a lot of insight on this as well.  I thought this post was outstanding.

Enough August 6, 2009

I am so tired of hearing the message of “Whatever you’re currently doing isn’t enough.”  I’m sure you’ve heard this message in one form or another.  It’s the pervading message of the world all around us.  Got a problem?  Well, you probably did something to deserve it.  I am certainly not trying to absolve everyone from all personal responsibility.  Far from it.  But does everything always come back down to something that you or I did wrong?  I am sure that if I wracked my brain long enough I could always drudge up something, for God’s sake!  For example, as a Christian, I am tired of picking up books promising me help in a certain area, only to find a few chapters later, that all the problems I have are all somehow my fault.  Got troubles in your life?  Well, it’s because you’re not praying enough.  Not reading your Bible enough.  Not tithing enough.  Not in a small group.  Not attending church regularly.  Not serving enough.  Do you find yourself having miscarriages or struggling with allergies?  Well, it’s because you haven’t repented on behalf of your great grand-pappy who was once a practicing Free Mason.  If you think I’m kidding about that last one, I’ve actually heard someone make a case for that before.  This is the message of the Pharisees (the religious leaders in Jesus’ day), to whom Jesus very clearly spoke these words:

“Instead of giving you God’s Law as food and drink by which you can banquet on God, they package it in bundles of rules, loading you down like pack animals. They seem to take pleasure in watching you stagger under these loads, and wouldn’t think of lifting a finger to help.” (Matthew 23:4, Msg)

Jesus also said,

Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you.  Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”  (Matthew 11:29, Msg).

Freely and lightly?  Sign me up!  When I think about the load that many people are under in this day and age, it truly boggles my mind.  My friend, Erin, and I were talking the other day about how many jobs women today have to fill and how unrealistic it is.  As Christian stay-at-home-moms, and I use that as an example simply because that is the culture in which I have experience, we expect ourselves to be meal-planners, car-poolers, social coordinators, accountants, maids, cooks, counselors, coaches, and then at the end of the day we’re supposed to make sure that our relationships with our spouses are healthy and intact.  On top of all that, if we want to be really good, we need to be actively involved at church.  And then if we’re homeschooling, add the job of a school teacher.  Or room mother.  Or…fill in the blank.  That’s quite a tall order to fill.  I mean, does anyone else see how crazy all this is?    I think we might be missing something, or at the very least, our focus is wrong.

When I first came to know Christ, I remember that free and light feeling.  It literally felt like a thousand lead bricks had been gently lifted, by loving and kind hands, off of my bruised and burdened back.  Yet it wasn’t long after that I, and the rest of the world, began replacing that oppressive load all over again, brick by burdensome brick.  My own insecurities, my need for approval, and expectations of those I cared about all contributed in laying an impressive and impermeable foundation.  I’ve had moments in my life since then, however-the number in which I can unfortunately only count on one hand-where I felt for just a few moments that a fracture in that foundation would occur; and beautiful, heavenly light would shine through.  These were the moments when I have felt completely loved and accepted.  As I am.  No worries.  No fear.  No expectations.  No striving for approval.  No…more, more, more.  And then as quickly as the dream would begin, I’d find myself ripped out of the reverie and returned to the world of struggle and strife; where the only things that matter are what I do, what I earn, and what I produce.

Not who I am.

My friends, that can NOT be the Kingdom of God!

I am more convinced than ever that God is more interested in who we are than what we do.  You can be the most handsome, polished, upstanding citizen and still have a heart that is black as coal.  Jesus said in Matthew 23:25-28 (NLT),

“…You are so careful to clean the outside of the cup and the dish, but inside you are filthy—full of greed and self-indulgence! Blind Pharisees! First wash the inside of the cup, and then the outside will become clean, too…You are like whitewashed tombs—beautiful on the outside but filled on the inside with dead people’s bones and all sorts of impurity. You try to look like upright people outwardly, but inside your hearts are filled with hypocrisy and lawlessness.”

God is far less concerned about our appearances, our earning power, our status, our productivity, what we do, than He is with our very selves.  As a parent of four children, I am far more concerned with my children and who they are as people and how they are treating each rather than how perfectly they are behaving themselves.

I think this is the very message (i.e., lie) from which Christ came to set us free.  Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.  He who the Son sets free is free indeed.  His yoke, as opposed to any other yoke, is easy and His burden is light.  This is the life that Christ came to give the world, because the world works in systems of measurement, grades, and comparison.  This is the message that the Church should be reminding us of on a daily basis, and not reinforcing the “What more can you do?” message.  Instead, our message should be one of freedom, hope, love, and redemption.

You cannot earn God’s love, favor, or acceptance.  We are told this when we first come to know Jesus as our Lord.  But then there’s a little bit of a bait and switch thing that happens.  The minute we are transposed from the world of darkness to light, so begins the lists of “do’s” and “don’ts.”  The rules and lists of “acceptable” lifestyles, appearances, and behaviors.  The “correct” ways to vote.  The “proper” courses to study in school.

Enough is enough!

Christ is enough.

And you are enough for Christ.

Dualing Banjos August 3, 2009

Well, I got such great feedback from everyone with the last post.  So, if you haven’t had enough of dualism yet, there’s a whole lot more where that came from, and I think it’s my new found calling in life to bring it to the masses ad nauseum.    I read this article by Nancy Scott called “Dueling with Dualism” not too long ago, and it really struck a chord with me.  I encourage you to read the whole thing, but I will share with you my favorite passage:

To separate our experience into spiritual and material, leads us to place value on the pursuit of “spiritual” things over the pursuit of “earthly” things. For the Christian college student, her pursuit of literature and the arts becomes “fleshly,” which is “less than” a spiritual pursuit. Since God is not in “the flesh,” the most valued vocations for her as a Christian are those involving spiritual things. For the Christian mother, tending to the needs of her children becomes “fleshly,” and perhaps frustrating to her, when she would rather pursue loftier, “spiritual” things. She may consider ministry, Bible study, and church activity the “better” things to do; when in reality, loving her children the best she can is the higher task.

If instead we carry with us an integrated view of the spiritual and the material worlds, we are free to pursue the plethora of options God has laid before us. If the highest human experience is moral beauty, then it matters less what I do (non-moral) and more how I do it (moral). I can pursue expressing myself in the arts, literature, or science as a joyous expression of the creature God created me to be. The college student can firmly embrace her studies on the campus, while thinking critically about the ideas presented. She can choose the vocation for which God has given her a desire, and see His hand in whatever she chooses to do, without the fear that anything can turn her heart away from the posture she has before God. God is the one holding her heart, and He is faithful. (emphasis mine)

Oh man.  Isn’t that beautiful???

I also really dug what she had to say about reading the Bible, keeping in mind the cultural context in which it was written and the audience for whom it was written.  This is one of the reasons that I love the Emerging Church‘s teachings.  I know that may deem me a heretic in some circles, but…oh well!  They acknowledge this.  They point out to us how easy (and lazy, might I add) it is to read the Bible with our own cultural frame of reference into the Bible, and completely miss out on what the true inspiration of the text really meant for its intended audience to hear.  In other words, missing the heart of what the author is saying and rather focusing on the literal law of the letter of the word.  I’ve seen too many people do this and use the Bible to justify abuse.  This is why we don’t take verses like those that admonish slaves to obey their masters, women to keep silent in church and not cut their hair short, literally.  We look at the broader message of grace, love, and respecting the culture around us even if we don’t necessarily agree with it, which unfortunately we haven’t always done a great job of doing.  Maybe, just maybe, it isn’t too late to start.

Regarding Dualism July 31, 2009

I mentioned dualism in my last post.  I’ve been reading a lot about dualism lately.  I was first introduced to the concept by reading Michael’s blog over at The Christian Monist.  He’s got quite a story to tell, and it’s really good stuff.  He writes a lot about dualism, and how much it pervades our culture and colors many of our beliefs.  Dualism has many different meanings, depending on the context in which it is being discussed.  But for here and now, dualism, as it relates to the modern American evangelical Christian, is a way of viewing the world in very black and very white terms; having a very defined, hard-lined set of beliefs, i.e., what is “good” and what is “bad.”  Dualism, in this context, usually views the spiritual world as being superior to the material (or “seen” world).  An evangelical, for example, might call this “godly” versus “worldly.”  Traditionally, for an evangelical, there were secular (or worldly) jobs, such as a doctor, a banker, an accountant, etc., or godly jobs (usually church- or ministry-related).  We speak of “God’s ways” and “man’s ways,” as if they are always utterly and diametrically opposed.

This line of thinking may lead us to erroneous conclusions that we do not need to seek the care of physicians and opt instead for “God’s healing,” or believe that schooling “God’s way” is always the better option for our children as opposed to secular public school, or believe that we can “tithe our way out of debt,” instead of correcting the destructive financial behaviors that have gotten us into our mess in the first place.  Not only is this line of thinking foolish, it is often downright dangerous, because I often see Christians acting in direct opposition to what the experts, in any given field, would tell us to do.  I think it isolates us, and we live in our little Christian bubbles for fear of being “contaminated” by the world and its insidious practices.  The very wonderful world and people that God created and loves.

Historians would also say that dualism is the frame of mind with which the entire modern era has been shaped.  But I wonder if this line of thinking has always been present since the Fall of humankind.  According to biblical tradition, we did choose the fruit from the tree of knowledge of good and evil, after all.  As we have moved out of the modern era and into the post-modern era, however, this type of thinking seems to be becoming more and more problematic.  Gray is now the new black and white.  Those once hard-drawn lines are now blurred.  Don’t believe me?  Think with me for a moment about your favorite currently-airing TV show…Got it?  Okay, think about the characters on said show.  Got ‘em?  Now divide those characters into two groups for me, Group A being the “good guys” and Group B being the “bad guys.”

Not so simple, is it?

I was commenting to my husband a while back how most, if not all, popular television shows right now have characters whose morality is harder and harder to define.  From the unconventional, but brilliant Dr. Greg House, to Sayid from “Lost,” these characters all have one major thing in common:  Their complexity.  Are they good or are they bad?  Loyal and brave Sayid has a background as a professional interrogator (i.e., he tortures people to get information from them); and Vicodin-popping Dr. House, while a brilliant medical doctor, usually relies on controversial and sometimes unscrupulous methods in order to find the cure for a patient, which he usually does.  Whatever happened to the shows where the bad guy was clearly bad, and the good guy clearly, well, good?  Some Christians see this as yet another example of the moral decay of our society.  I, however, have to disagree.  I believe this is because we’re no longer that gullible or naive.  We are aware and have become more acquainted with and more honest about our own frailty, as well as our own beauty, as human beings.

This has resonated with me on a lot of levels.  It seems I’ve struggled with the effects of dualism in my own life.  I have often viewed this world through black and white lenses, and have, therefore, missed out on developing wonderful relationships with people that *gasp* think differently than I do!  I’ve denied myself experiences for fear that it would make God angry with me.  I done things, stupid things, that have flown in the face of wisdom and science, simply because I thought it was “God’s” way of doing things.

What I am realizing is that this entire world belongs to God.  And there is no where on this Earth that God is not.  Psalm 24:1 says “The earth and everything on it belong to the Lord.  The world and its people belong to him” (CEV).  Psalm 139:7-8 says “Where can I go to get away from your Spirit?  Where can I run to get away from you?  If I go up to heaven, you are there.  If I make my bed in HELL, you are there” (GW).  God is not some prudish grandma with her panties in a wad, who stands far off when we are hurting, angry, in pain, falling down, making mistakes, etc.  Going through seasons of suffering and pain has taught me the invaluable lesson that not only is God NOT far off during those times, but that God is in the very thick, the very heart of darkness, suffering, and pain.  God is, as they say, good.

As Christians, we should know that even within the worst of us, there lies the possibility of hope, forgiveness and redemption.  That we are, as Anne Lamott says, “diamond hearts, wrapped in meatballs.”  That in every situation there lies the possibility of goodness, faithfulness, and love.  And instead of isolating ourselves from the pain of this world, we should try to be more like God, roll up our sleeves, get involved, and get our hands dirty.

That is, afterall, what Jesus did.