how I hate school and think it should just rot

okay, so.. I actually love learning things. I love the feeling of thinking so hard your head spins and you just have no idea what is happening. I love those "aha" moments when something finally clicks. I love the struggle of the mind to wrap around ideas just out of reach.

You see, in moments like these I worship God through the use of my mind. In fact, I used to hold a good theological debate as the one kind of worship that got my blood racing. With thoughts racing and spinning and dancing and jumping and diving, testing one another in what comes across as a dramatic and urgent quest for truth, how could you help but be elated to know the Lord of the mind?

And then there is school. And panic attacks over what one stupid assignment with no instructions and an expectation of understanding is going to do to my grades. and my chance to get into grad school. and my life. ugh.

Basically, I have a lazy teacher. She is only assigning us 4 assignments. She apparently does not want to grade a whole lot. on the last two assignments I have gotten 100% (go me). Then, on the first of two tests, for which we were supposed to "just study homework assignments" I got 75%. Great. Now assignment 3, which I am supposed to email in by 10am, has no instructions, nor does it look like anything in my notes, lecture slides or text book. So, yeah, I am freaking out. Because - didn't I mention? its 9am.

after 3 hours of struggling over trying to figure this out I was officially in panic attack mode. I mean like shaky-hands, close-to-tears, rocking-back-and-forth, almost-called-my-mom-twice panic attack.

So much for worship through intellect.

But really. Doesn't loving God "with all your mind" mean giving 100% to your homework assignments and doing them as if you were submitting them to Jesus or something? Am I not supposed to go to school and get good grades in order to love God with my mind, as an intelligent young person privileged enough to grow up where I did and have this opportunity?

Or is it possible that loving God with my mind doesn’t involve panic attacks about a really dumb assignment? Is it possible that loving God with my mind means something else entirely?
Is it possible that loving God with all my mind is just there not as a mandate but as a piece of the description to love God with every part of me- a description of the kind of love that pours out of and into every moment of my life, every fiber of my being?
Is it possible that in order to live out that kind of love I should look not to the stodgy world of academia, but should look to the depth of the text of the Scriptures, look to the community of the Church, look to the world around me and look to the depths of my soul where somewhere, somehow the Spirit of the living God indwells me?
Now, I really don’t want to freak out my parents or anything, so let me just say that I have every intention of finishing school. I do not think that the structures of academia and loving God with your mind are mutually exclusive. I just do not think they are the same thing.
I am daring to dream that God has more for me than anxiety over not knowing what to write on a piece of paper.

frustrated and worshipping

So, lately I have been really frustrated. I am working really hard and I am extremely exhausted. You know how little kids can get so tired that they just cry? Yeah. I reached that point one week ago today. I was walking to work at 6:30am and talking on the phone with my mom and I just cried. like a three year old. I was THAT tired. So I got off of work early and I skipped classes for the day... And came home to find out that my roommate was sick. Now, I hadn't been feeling well for three days before that.. But she was sick. She couldn't talk or stand up. So my room turned into a really gross place and I slept on the couch for a week. But unfortunately it is hard to sleep in the living room of a tiny apartment while other people in the apartment aren't quite ready for bed.. So since my three-year-old-crying-moment I have averaged 4 hours of sleep on an uncomfortable couch.

And that brings us to today. And midterms. this morning I should have gotten up at 6. Instead I got up at 6:30. My roommate was trying to be a doll and did some of my laundry last night... however when I woke up I found that every pair of jeans I own was in the washing machine along with both of my work shirts. awesome. So what was my response? I just stared at them and cried. Yup. For like 5 minutes.

But it turned out okay. I wore sweats to work and no one cared (they are trying to get me to accept a promotion because most of the people I work with are incompetent). Anyway, it was fine. And now I am back at my apartment, taking a break from studying for two midterms I am probably not going to do really well on.

But I am frustrated. I am frustrated that both of my jobs are stupid, my Bible study seems to be increasingly elementary and irreverent, my roommates are rude, my homework is hard, my health is never good, I'm out of cell phone minutes for the month so I can't just talk to my mom, I never seem to have enough money to pay the bills without stress, everyone is always asking me to edit their papers, the apartment is always trashed, I work Monday-Saturday (which means I have to wear jeans Monday-Saturday and I want to be in sweats), my plans for next year are up in the air and I have no idea how i'm making money this summer.

But a strange thing has been happening. My prayer time has been very quite. And calm. Nothing else in my life has been restful, but in this I am led beside still waters. Despite my lack of self-control and my sin and anger that keep piling up, God is restoring my soul. I am delivered every day to the most passionate love in existence and swept away by the beauty of the Lover of my soul. I don't know how things are going to turn out, or how I am going to survive this term, or even whether I am going to survive it, but I know in whom I have believed. I trust my love completely (at least in this moment), and although my love is of the sort that is not constant, his love for me is everlasting.

I am tired and frustrated, but I rest in my faith and I see the deliverance of God working in my life.

I love the LORD, for he has heard my voice and my pleas for mercy.
Because he inclined his ear to me, therefore I will call on him as long as I live. The snares of death encompassed me, the pangs of Sheol laid hold on me, I suffered distress and anguish.

Then I called on the name of the LORD: "O, LORD, I pray, deliver my soul!"

GRACIOUS IS THE LORD, AND RIGHTEOUS; OUR GOD IS MERCIFUL.

The LORD preserves the simple; when I was brought low he saved me. Return, o my soul, to your rest; for the LORD has dealt bountifully with you.

For you have delivered my soul from death, my eyes from tears, my feet from stumbling; I will walk before the LORD in the land of the living.

I believed when I spoke "I am greatly afflicted." and I said in my alarm, "all mankind are liars."

What shall I render to the LORD for all his benefits to me?
I will lift up the cup of salvation, and call on the name of the LORD.
I will pay my vows to the LORD in the presence of all of his people.

Precious in the sight of the LORD is the death of his saints.
O, LORD, I am your servant; I am your servant, the child of your maidservant. You have loosed my bonds. I will offer to you the sacrifice of thanksgiving and call on the name of the LORD. I will pay my vows to the LORD in the presence of all of his people, in the courts of the house of the LORD, in your midst, O Jerusalem.

Praise the LORD!!!!

scraps and snapshots

Oh, where to begin.... Life....

I have meant to blog a little bit more.... but I haven't had time. But the term is over now. I survived it..... but not without a few scrapes and bruises to my pride, the mask of identity I have made for myself, and a challenge to everything I thought.

I do not have time to recall all of the things that happened over the term. Nor would many people be interested in reading that. I instead want to share with you some scraps of my life, some snapshots of the moments that reminded me of the faithfulness of God.

Let me preface these few memories by saying that God is AMAZING! Gracious and merciful is the LORD!!

I believe that God is always revealing Himself to those who follow Him. I believe that He wants us to draw near, and when we do, amazingly, He draws near to us. That we are afforded such a relationship with the Almighty God of the universe by the blood of the Lamb who was slain baffles me and breaks me. But I want to know this God more deeply.

So, I decided to look for Him.

I have started keeping a journal of the ways I see God moving. It is paintings and poems and pictures and words all proclaiming the glory and majesty of God as it is revealed in my life. I guess I thought that the best way to train myself to see was to start looking.... It has reminded me of the time my dear friend Emma and I decided we wanted to be more poetic, eloquent people and our decided way of reaching that goal was to write a poem everyday for a year. I failed miserably at that..... But my journal I am committed to keeping. I am determined that, although it is a joy now, when it becomes a chore I will still use it as an avenue for seeking the face of God, or looking for His hand in my life.

Perhaps I will scan some pages from it sometime.

At any rate, I will share some moments from my life in which God has been faithful, and I'm sure you'll get to hear the other thousands of ways He was working in me this fall once we get to heaven.

It was a rough fall. I am living missionally with three girls who are not Christians.
They are all friends of mine. But I never anticipated that it would be so hard.... or so easy.

I miss living in my parents' home when I am in school. There is no one in my apartment who can share in the rapture of God's creation during the changing of the leaves or the first frost... yet. And it is hard.

But God has not deserted me. Every time I feel completely overwhelmed, and am frustrated and regret living with these girls, God moves.

During the first week of the term, I had one-on-one talks with each of my roommates about who Jesus is... and THEY brought it up. Kids, that was God. I was scared, and nervous and had no idea where to start. So God worked it out for me.

Whenever I came close, as it is tempting to do, to stop taking every single opportunity to mention Jesus's way, God would lead my roommates to ask me. Over and over.

okay, so, I am not going to go into specifics right now.. but just to summarize:
I had long, long talks, I had time to discuss my prayer life, I discussed the importance of the Scriptures, when my own Bible was ruined by an accident when I was not home. I have had every opportunity to love these girls selflessly in the name of Christ.

And I have often failed. But God has always blessed me by giving me a new beginning as His representative. I have explained my failings, and God's love for me to these girls. I have told them that although I have and will failed them there is Someone who will not. I have apologized and explained how I am not a good representative of my God.

I have shared in their sorrows and looked them in the eyes and with the conviction of the Spirit, with shaking hands and a steady voice told them the ONLY way they will be satisfied or fulfilled and these heartaches healed is in Jesus. I have prayed for and with them.

And I am tired. And when I have been exhausted I have ignored the call to love them, and have avoided telling them they are treasures. I have been annoyed and angry at them. I have been unfaithful to God. But I am His.

"The saying is trustworthy, for:
if we have died with Him, we will also live with Him;
if we endure, we will also reign with Him;
if we deny Him, He also will deny us;
if we are faithless, He will remain faithful -

- for He cannot deny Himself."

II Timothy 2:11-13

I thank the Lord for my life, this testament to His faithfulness.

Advent thoughts

This is an emailed devotion that I get every weekday. I think it's amazing so I thought I'd share it:

" Home and Homesick

 

In his poem Journey of the Magi, T.S. Eliot imagines the reminiscent thoughts of one of the Magi who journeyed from afar to witness the birth of Christ.  Using the voice of a pagan king, Elliot portrays the weight in the soul of one who has truly confronted Christ, the king.  The poem powerfully concludes:

 

"Birth or Death? There was a birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt I had seen birth and death.
But had thought they were different, this Birth was
hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our palaces, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
with an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death."

 

Coming in contact with the Christ, proclaims Eliot, setting one's eyes on the child who was born to die is in a very real sense like dying ourselves. Though the poem seems to strike a somber note, it is the very note echoed triumphantly throughout New Testament Scripture. The apostle Paul readily utilized the words and imagery of death to describe life in Christ. "I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me."  Jesus uttered similarly, "Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it."(1)

 

In the season of Advent, Christians profess to be a people watching and waiting, remembering and anticipating with those who first watched God step into the world through the mean estate of a dirty stable. We remember those who first set their eyes on the child who was born to die, becoming, in a sense, as Christ was on that first night, homeless and out of place. We remember, too, that we ourselves are far from home, longing for a kingdom we know in part. For having embraced the person of Christ, the Christian proclaims the reality of his kingdom and find herself as Eliot describes, "no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation, with an alien people clutching their gods."  The message of Advent awakens this sense of homelessness, stirs a longing for home, and reminds a dark world that we are waiting for the return of the king. 

 

In one of the most comforting conversations between Jesus and the disciples, Jesus gives a description of this home and the certainty of an invitation inside. "In my Father's house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going" (John 14:2-4). Compounding this hope, his words are followed by one of his most quoted promises. As Thomas replied, "But Lord, we don't know where you are going, so how can we know the way?" Jesus answered: "I am the way, and the truth, and the life."

 

Christ is the herald of our homelessness and the harbinger of our home, even as he proclaims this very kingdom among us and himself as the way inside. As G.K. Chesterton once penned,

 


"For men are homesick in their homes,
and strangers under the sun...
but our homes are under miraculous skies
where the Yule tale was begun."
 

The story of Christ's birth is a certain message of hope and home. He who took on the fullness of humanity became homeless that we might come home. He proclaims a kingdom among us and continues to prepare us a place within it.  Let every heart prepare him room.

 

 

Jill Carattini is managing editor of A Slice of Infinity at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia. "

in this world

Hey all,

so I haven't put anything on here in awhile, but that is about to change in a big way. I have so many thoughts I want to share. The first one I do not have time to go into today in detail (I am writing this between a meeting for Chi Alpha Christian group at UO and work, because if anything gets done in my life at UO it is shoved between two things).

But I have to say some stuff. I want to be a person obsessed with the return of Jesus the Christ. Already I feel myself becoming one such person. But, I am discouraged in my growth. I feel like when I share this calling to be heralds in every moment of life for our coming King with other Christians they are not excited. Younger Christians get quiet and older Christians get tired looking. A few of my siblings in the faith say encouraging things, but it none devote themselves to joining me.

Brothers and sisters, why? Is it because you assume my enthusiasm for Jesus' returning is judgement for you? I am going to venture to say that it isn't (some among you might say that that is exactly what this random blog post is, but I honestly think this is more a cry of despair in response to not finding the people of God excited that He is coming back.

There are several reasons I used to fret about His return, too. I admit, I was worried about my unsaved family and friends. Praying for Jesus to return felt often like praying for their hurried damnation. I have also felt like I don't want Jesus to come back until I am "right with Him." I have often been hesitant to pray for the return of our LORD because I was afraid of his response to seeing a servant who was avoiding serving because the Master was away.

There just seemed to be so many things that needed to be put in order before Jesus came to earth (my sin and my friends' faith just being two examples). It seems somehow I forgot that Jesus lived in this mess of a world before, and even now knows what uglinesses we try to hide from Him.

My friends, these things used to worry me (and sometimes in my weakness still do), but let me share when I felt the worries first recede.

I was taking communion at Spring Mountain (how I miss communing with you all!!), and was made aware of my wretched state. As I took communion it became clear to me in some tiny sense how guilty I was of the sins of Gomer. I was overwhelmed by the love of God and broken by the fact that I had betrayed such a lover as Him. And then I realized that I would do it again.

I realized that I would again betray Him. I know myself, and I would, probably before the day was over.

I was crushed. And I realized that I would do this until He came and brought me home. In that moment all I could ever dream of was for Jesus to come. to be fully reconciled to Him, face to face with His glory.

Language fails such moments. But it is occurring to me since then that Jesus' return is the answer to these problems. I do not know how my friends' faithlessness and my failings will be reconciled, but I know they will be. I know Whom I have believed. He will right all wrongs, and I need not worry how, because I know Him.

THIS is why I long for His return, every moment.

allow me to share my joy with you, brothers and sisters: Jesus is coming soon!!!!!!!

Praise the LORD! Maranatha!!!

Entitlement and Servitude (some old ramblings)

Entitlement vs. Servitude

As a servant of God what am I entitled to?

As a kid born and raised in (and never having left) America, I can honestly say I struggle with entitlement. There are things which I figure are my due. I deserve to be treated kindly and with respect. I deserve to be thanked when I help someone. I am entitled to be paid for working, to be treated well. I am entitled to my convenience. These are the things America has told me. And when the things I am entitled to are infringed upon I have every right to start a big fuss over it, because I am being denied my rights. I am allowed to react in defense to these things. I am supposed to. Or am I?
What does it REALLY mean to be a SERVANT of God? What rights does a servant get to keep? What rights do I have to give up in order to be a servant of my God and his creatures?

The pursuit of happiness?

Liberty?


Life?

Wealth?

Success?

Moral consideration?

Am I allowed to demand being treated well?

Society teaches that life should be fair. Legal systems are in place to try to ensure a just world. People are to be valued by other people, because that is good to do and we all like feeling valued. When people treat you in a way that does not recognize your inherent value, you should demand that they do.

Right?

Or is the proper response to suffer in silence? Not to correct their abuse?

And why is it easier to play the silent-sufferer role amongst non-believers? I can be a martyr, but not a slave.

Yet James identifies himself as a Bondservant of Christ when writing his epistle to his brothers and sisters (James 1:1,-2).

I used to think context kind of excused it, and there may be something to that, after all in my own home if a bug crawls onto my plate and into my dinner I probably won’t touch my food, or at least I make rather a fuss about it; however, if I am camping, I just flick it off and continue my meal. I feel like most people just aren’t as bothered by bugs and dirt while they are camping as they are while at home.
Analogously, it is harder to get along with my siblings than with anyone in the world (or it used to be). It is harder to serve and be generous in my house than when I “go into the world.” I always thought of it as a matter of context. James seems to think otherwise.

Why would He, or I, have to identify myself as a servant to my family???? Even if what he means is the church, this is difficult for me. When I come home from a day of serving people I am supposed to come to my siblings (and the rest of my family) and say “I am the bondservant of Christ,” so I can continue serving? Home is supposed to be a place of refuge and rest.

…. Unless we are not home yet….

Hmm…..

the ever-struggle - a poem

Just to offer context for this poem: I love life at the UO. It has been socially, educationally and spiritually edifying to be here, and I will continue to love it here, I am sure. But, these last few weeks I have felt drowned in trying to find the balance between studying, working and de-stressing.. And I have found that what seems to be suffering the most is my relationship with Jesus. It is that closest relationship that the stresses of my life strain... and this bothers me. It manifests itself in big ways, in how I relate to the world, and in more subtle ways, like thinking about Merleau-Ponty's "Cogito" while reading my Bible at meal times and between classes and having no idea what I've read. When I realized how long its been since I dedicated the whole of my heart and mind to Jesus for a specific moment, this is what came out.



The ever struggle: living center focused in and edge focused world.

I just want to abandon myself to the will of the Lord. I want to make my Maker my Master so that He can master the decisions I make. I am sick of sin creeping in…again. And the feeling of it leaves me empty and sick.

How disgusted must He be- The Spirit of the living God who lives in me-? I am living like a stranger, when I am the daughter of the King.

How easy I think it would be, to live to You and die to me if I was not stuck here, all wrapped in new clothes, drowning in headphones. I want to be let go, by the grip of the world, by the overflow.

How can I live with so much opportunity and squander all my gifts? How can I fail in apathy? And tell me how to start again, in this world. I’m drowning in this overflow.

Jesus, I can’t see you beyond the books and coffees, I can’t see you beyond the work and receipts!!! But sometimes I think that beyond the laughter filling up my room, you are weeping for me.