GUEST POST: God Hates Divorce

God Hates Divorce. So Do I. 

You know that somewhat sympathetic, hollow look you give a new acquaintance when you find out they are divorced? Certainly you don’t judge outright, but you wonder whether your new friend really took marriage seriously? I used to do that, too. 

Like many bright-eyed young brides, I spoke confidently of never letting divorce be an option. Marriage is a permanent union of husband, wife, and God, and no amount of difficulty would ever disrupt that bond.

Our story could have had a happy ending; that is, no ending at all. But in a vicious cycle, my husband – my high school sweetheart – became addicted to pornography, became depressed, and wandered from his faith. 

He refused to see a counselor. I would find him sitting in a dark closet and could think of nothing to do but sit in silence with him, hoping at least my presence would be a comfort. But he continued to spiral downwards. 

Finally, he returned from a business conference and told me that he had made a mistake in marrying me, that I deserved better than him. I was confused and devastated. 

A week later, things became more clear when a stranger told me the truth: my husband slept with a girl he met at the conference and had promised to leave me for her. 

I confronted him. He lied. He realized I already knew. He apologized. He said he wanted our marriage more than anything. I read a pile of books on how to restore a marriage after adultery. He slept with the girl again. He lied again. 

Heartbroken, I desperately sought the advice of family and friends. Our counselor and our pastor both advised me that there was little hope for a turnaround in his behavior or his attitude. After seven years of marriage, we divorced. 

God hates divorce (Mal. 2:16); believe me, so do I. The one should not become two. 

The road returning to singleness is a rough one. I have never experienced deeper, more anguishing emotional pain, searing to the point of physically aching. My husband was my best friend, my lifelong love. He abandoned our marriage, he abandoned me. 

I cried more in one month than in the rest of my life put together. My identity was lost; I thought my life was over. 

Months later, I still saw myself as discarded, damaged goods. It didn’t help that a churchgoing Christian in my new town rescinded his offer of a date when I told him I was divorced – he informed me that there were plenty of nice, attractive, intelligent, non-divorced Christian women, and that men in the church could afford to be choosy. Ouch. In the face of this, having friends to remind me of my self-worth was a lifesaver. 

Did I acquire deep wounds from this experience? Yes. But I also, remarkably, grew in ways I never anticipated. 

Yes, the obvious - because I have been through it myself, I am now better able to comfort friends who are suffering and lonely (2 Cor. 1:3,4). But I learned far more from this experience than just compassion: 

I am strong. 

I initially felt like damaged goods... and damaged I was (and still am)! I came to realize that although some in the church might view me with a scarlet D, others would instead see and appreciate the strength of character that had been developed in me through this trauma. My faith and reliance on God is much stronger now than when my life was picture-perfect (Romans 5:3-5). 

And when I married six years later, I could enter the commitment with the confidence that I won’t crumble when life gets difficult. There is value going into surgery with a doctor who has practiced medicine for years - even if a bit worn-down, she sure beats the fresh, well-rested student with only book-learning to guide her scalpel! 

I am weak. 

Reeling from the pain of my husband’s unfaithfulness, I heard, for the first time in my life, direct words from God. Actually, I felt their deep truth rather than hearing the words themselves: “This is how I feel when you wander from me”. 

God’s tone was not at all accusing; it was sorrowful. Having seen the person I loved break his promise and discard a loving relationship against all common sense, I learned how God feels when I turn away from Him (as in the parable of the prodigal son). 

God shares in my suffering. 

Isaiah tells an amazing story about God and His people (Isaiah 63:9): “In all their distress he too was distressed.” I have to repeat it: “In all their distress he too was distressed.” I clung to this verse that first year. I had always pictured God comforting and guiding from a distance. I had never considered that, in a personal way, God was as hurt and disappointed as I was! 

God knows what it’s like to be deeply wounded. He seems to have a special place in His heart for those who, in addition to struggling with their own sin, must also live with the consequences of others’ sin. What a remarkable thing to have God Himself as a comforter for our suffering, but also a companion in our suffering. 

Mal. 2:16 

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mal.%202:16&version=NIV 

2 Cor. 1:3,4 

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2%20Cor.%201:3,4&version=NIV 

The parable of the prodigal son 

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke%2015:11-32&version=NIV  

Romans 5:3-5 

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+5%3A3-5&version=NIV 

Isaiah 63:9 

http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Isaiah%2063:9&version=NIV

"Remember Lot’s wife" (Luke 17:32).

Years ago I was thinking about my fixation on a past relationship, and the Lord spoke to me about Lot’s wife. I wondered, What exactly did Lot’s wife do that turned her into a pillar of salt, and what does this have to do with me?

I did a Google search and read a couple of commentaries on the verses in Genesis. According to these, her sin was not merely looking back--but disobedience and disbelief. The angel of the Lord specifically instructed Lot and his family not to look back. Then I began to ask myself, in what ways is my tendency to “look back” and remain in the past linked to disobedience and disbelief? If God was telling me not to look back, then looking back would indeed be disobedient; but how was I not believing God for my future?

Well, to start with, since my last relationship was with someone who was everything I ever wanted in man—except that God was not the most important thing in his life--the thing I feared the most was that I would end up with someone that loves God, but that would fall short in some way that he did not. Oh, me of little faith!

One day, I was thinking about how much I would love to marry someone who likes to dance. The thought occurred to me, What if the godly man God gives me doesn’t like to dance?!? What a sad loss! Suddenly, it was if the Lord spoke to me again through the words of Jim Elliot: "He is no fool who gives the thing he cannot keep to buy what he cannot lose."

Most recently the Lord has been speaking to me through Tim Keller's book, Counterfeit Gods, and I have been incredibly convicted by the words in the first few chapters. He says, "The human heart takes good things like a successful career, love, material possessions, even family, and turns them into ultimate things. Our hearts deify them at the center of our lives, because, we think, they can give us significance and security, safety and fulfillment, if we attain them" (xiv). As a matter of fact, Keller asserts, "the greater the good, the more likely we are to expect that it can satisfy our deepest needs and hopes" (xvii).

For those who heart’s desire is marriage--what could more easily become an idol than that? 

God should be our true Spouse, but when we desire and delight in other things more than God we commit spiritual adultery. Romance or success can become 'false lovers' that promise to make us feel loved and valued. Idols capture our imagination, and we can locate them by looking at our daydreams. What do we enjoy imagining? What are our fondest dreams? We look to idols to love us, to provide us with value and a sense of beauty, significance, and worth (xxi).

What exactly was it that I was daydreaming about for months on end? Well, the specifics aren't important, but the key was that I was making marriage into an idol. 

Keller uses the story of Abraham to illustrate:

God's extremely rough treatment of Abraham was actually merciful. Isaac was a wonderful gift to Abraham, but he was not safe to have and hold until Abraham was willing to put God first. As long as Abraham never had to choose between his son and obedience to God, he could not see that his love was becoming idolatrous…. 

Abraham took that journey, and only after that could Abraham love Isaac well and wisely…. Here, then, is the practical answer to our own idolatries, to the 'Isaacs' in our lives, which are not spiritually safe to have and hold. 

We need to offer them up (13-14, 15, 17).

The day I broke it off with my boyfriend, my brother said to me, "Well, I guess you just gave God your Isaac." The only problem was, until I began reading Tim Keller's book, my willingness to "offer up my Isaac" operated as a bargaining tool: God, I gave up everything I ever wanted in a man for you; so now you owe me!

Only through Tim Keller's convicting words has the Lord allowed me to see both my idolatry and my lack of faith. According to Keller, we need to be able to say to the Lord: "I see that you may be calling me to live my life without something I never thought I could live without. But if I have you, I have the only wealth, health, love, honor and security I really need and cannot lose" (19).

Lord, I believe; help my unbelief.

Je ne suis pas Charlie: I Am NOT Charlie

Like millions of others, I was horrified when I heard about the terrible tragedy at the offices of the satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo on January 7^th. In subsequent days, I spent hours watching the news and fearing for the people of France (a country I visited for a month at age 18 and came to love) as new gunmen took hostages and the violence threatened to grow. I even considered posting “Je suis Charlie” as a status update on Facebook.

That was until I heard a segment about the admittedly irreverent publication on the January 13^th broadcast of “All Things Considered” on NPR.

“Staff members say the magazine is not Islamophobic and is only fighting to keep religion out of public life,” they reported.

I am the first person to say that the journalists at Charlie Hebdo—or any other publication for that matter–have every right to mock whomever they want. You want to mock Christianity? Jesus? Be my guest. But what does this statement really mean for Charlie Hebdo? Does keeping religion out of public life end with mocking the beliefs of others or does it go further than that? 

While I share no sympathy with jihadist Muslims, and affirm the rights of the writers at Charlie Hedbo to speak—or in this instance, cartoon–freely, how can anyone expect to “keep religion out of public life”? How can a person, who holds a specific set of beliefs, keep them “out of” their life? While religion, by definition, usually refers to a set of beliefs and practices regarding a god or gods, it derives from the Latin religare, meaning to tie or fasten; literally, re- + ligāre means “to bind.” All of us, in one way or another, “bind” ourselves to certain beliefs, but if a publication like Charlie Hebdo is going to accomplish its desired goal, every person alive must “check their beliefs” at the door before entering the public square. Or is it just belief in a god that must be left behind? Non-belief in a god or gods can inform a life and influence the choices a person makes—or doesn't make–and the journalists at Charlie Hebdo are no exception. So how can my belief in God, that informs my life and influences the choices I make, be “left out”?

If keeping religion out of the public square equals not murdering abortion doctors or slaughtering journalists, then I'm all for it.

If it means silence, then they've got another thing coming. 

Je ne suis pas Charlie.

My first article on the "Disney Dads" blog!

A Memorial Day Aha! Moment — Thanks to Captain America by Carilyn Flynn

First Loser

Recently, someone posted a video of Jerry Seinfeld talking about the Olympics:

The Olympics is really my favorite sporting event, although I think I have a problem with that silver medal. I think, if I was an Olympic athlete, I would rather come in last than win the silver. If you think about it...if you win the gold, you feel good. If you win the bronze, you think: "Well, at least I got something." But if you win that silver, it's like, "Congratulations! You...almost won. Of all the losers, you came in first of that group. You're the number one...loser. No one lost...ahead of you."

I've been struggling lately with my perfectionism. This was brought to screeching clarity last week when I got some blood test results back from the doctor.

You see, my nephew is a missionary with Operation Nehemiah, a ministry working to make a community in South Sudan self-sufficient after decades of civil war (in the pictures on the website, he's clearly the American in glasses). Before Jonathan left in September, he got a battery of vaccines, but there is no current vaccine for malaria, and during his four month stint, Jon was bitten by a mosquito carrying malaria. He suffered with three recurrences of the disease before returning to the states, and just a few days after his return home last month, Jon got sick again.

After a trip to the ER, the doctors discovered that these recent symptoms were not a result of the malaria--but Hepatitis A. Before you "run for the hills"--screaming--lest reading my blog might infect you, Hepatitis A is an inflammation of the liver that is usually not fatal. And, according to the Mayo Clinic, "No specific treatment exists for hepatitis A. Your body will clear the hepatitis A virus on its own. In most cases of hepatitis A, the liver heals completely in a month or two with no lasting damage. Hepatitis A is caused by infection with the hepatitis A virus. The hepatitis virus is usually spread when a person ingests tiny amounts of contaminated fecal matter." Yup. Fecal matter. So, basically, since there is only one well that is the water source for the entire village and eating out of a communal bowl is part of Sudanese culture...you do the math.

Once I received this news, I called my primary care doctor and he recommended that I come in for a blood test. I asked the phlebotomist how likely it was that, if I had it, I passed it on unknowingly while babysitting for a friend before Jon got the diagnosis. She said, "Well, I'm sure you don't feed them fecal matter, so they'll be fine." What about hugs and kisses? "Nope. It's only transmitted through fecal matter, and I'm sure you wash your hands thoroughly, so..." Still, in the meantime, I alerted my places of work--including my friend and the families I tutor for--so that they could decide if they wanted me to wait until I got the results before resuming work. Many opted for this route, but when I got the results back three days later I was happy to announce: "I do not have Hepatitis A!"

You might have thought this was good news. At least I thought it was, but for some of my clients, this was not enough; they still didn't want me to come and tutor their kids. I thought to myself, "Which part of 'I do not have Hepatitis A' don't you understand?!?"

STORY OF MY LIFE: I do everything I'm supposed to do; I knock myself out to do the right thing--AND IT'S NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

Watching the Olympics these weeks has made me realize that I am just like those egotistical Olympians who say, "Yeah, I won a bunch of National Championships, but I realized it didn't mean anything unless I won a gold medal."

Basically, what they are saying is, "I'm super-privileged: I've got above-average talent, I've been lucky enough to be able to afford pursuing this dream, I've got all my limbs (or at least the ones with this attitude seem to), and I'm good enough to qualify for the Olympics...but if I'm not the best, then 'Chuck it.'" What ingratitude.

And that's what is wrong with me.

If I can't be the best, if I can't be perfect, then I feel like the first loser. And, as any perfectionist will tell you, they would rather not try than do something half-heartedly. Anything worth doing is worth doing well, they'd say. And they would be wrong.

Not all of us can do great things. But we can do small things with great love. --Mother Teresa

If I try, and I fail, at least I tried?

If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. And if I give all my possessions to feed the poor, and if I surrender my body to be burned, but do not have love, it profits me nothing. Love is patient, love is kind and is not jealous; love does not brag and is not arrogant, does not act unbecomingly; it does not seek its own, is not provoked, does not take into account a wrong suffered, does not rejoice in unrighteousness, but rejoices with the truth; bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things (1 Corinthians 13:1-7).

And I've failed. 

If I cannot in honest happiness take the second place (or the twentieth); if I cannot take the first without making a fuss about my unworthiness, then I know nothing of Calvary love. --from If, by Amy Carmichael

But Love...never fails.

Love never fails; but if there are gifts of prophecy, they will be done away; if there are tongues, they will cease; if there is knowledge, it will be done away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part; but when the perfect comes, the partial will be done away. When I was a child, I used to speak like a child, think like a child, reason like a child; when I became a man, I did away with childish things. For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known. But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love (1 Corinthians 13:8-13).

That which I know not, teach Thou me, O Lord, my God. --Amy Carmichael

Amen.

A life worth living

Life doesn't always turn out the way that you imagined.

As a young woman, I never thought that at thirty-seven I would be single and child-less.

But then again, God is not a Domino's Delivery Guy--it won't do any good to complain that you didn't get the extra cheese you ordered, and you can't get your money back if your order isn't delivered in 30 minutes or less.

Besides, if you spend time complaining that you didn't get precisely what you thought you wanted--instead of being thankful for the gifts that you have indeed been given--you will waste your life being miserable!

Furthermore, sometimes life's unexpected outcomes can turn out to be life's greatest blessings. If I had gotten married at 22 like I had planned, my life would be incredibly different--and I would rather be single than unhappily married.

So, instead of feeling sorry for ourselves, let's make a life-plan that is not contingent upon [enter unfulfilled dream here]:

1. Choose an occupation--or follow a vocation--that you enjoy.

2. Volunteer for causes that you are passionate about.

3. Make memories with family and friends.

4. Pursue things that you love (read, write, watch movies, attend plays, listen to live music, stare at art, hike, bike, and get out there).

5. Travel, as the desire and budget affords.

6. Do crazy things that may or may not involve: going through a Burger King drive-through while your passengers make your vehicle rock like a gangster; taking pictures in public with a generic Barbie doll (see number 3).

7. Look after "orphans and widows in their distress" (James 1:27).

So as I stare into the future, not knowing what the future holds, I am going to create the life I want to live.

So there.

"And life is worth living!" --Maximo Park

An open letter to Scott Brown

Scott Brown for United States Senate

337 Summer Street

Boston, MA 02210

(857) 263-8346

September 26, 2012 

Dear Senator Brown:

In Steven Ertelt’s article, “Scott Brown Says He Supports Abortion, Limits, And Opposes Health Care Bill,” you acknowledged Roe v. Wade as “the law of the land.” This is true, yet nearly fifty years ago, Martin Luther King, Jr., wrote from Birmingham City Jail, "We should never forget that everything Adolf Hitler did in Germany was 'legal.'"

You also said, “I feel this issue is best handled between a woman and her doctor and her family.” In 1975, my mother was forty-five years old and pregnant. Roe v. Wade and a woman’s “right to choose” had been the “law of the land” for two years. Doctors, friends, and family members advised her to have an abortion in case I was born with Down Syndrome. She resisted, and on June 10, 1976, I was born--perfectly healthy.

You are my Senator. You wrote the Chairman of the Republican National Committee in 2012 about “a woman’s right to choose”; if you had been my Senator in 1975, would you have fought against laws that would have violated my right to live?

I commend you for your stance against partial-birth abortions, federal funding, your support of parental consent notification and your desire to reduce the number of abortions. I realize that abortion is a complicated issue and it is very unlikely that Roe v. Wade will ever be overturned, but like the Civil Rights Activists before you, I would hope that you would do everything in your power to fight for the rights of the most easily marginalized members of our society: the unborn.

Sincerely,

Carilyn Flynn

An Open Letter to Elizabeth Warren

Elizabeth for MA
PO Box 290568
Boston, MA 02129
(617)-286-6715

September 19, 2012

Dear Ms. Warren:

In one recent campaign ad, you said, "We're still fighting to protect a woman's right to choose." You are a good person, so I am assuming that rather than advocating for this right at the expense of human lives, you must honestly believe that an unborn child is not a human being. Do you realize that it was this kind of thinking that persuaded the proponents of slavery and the Holocaust?

In John Ensor's book, Answering the Call: Saving Innocent Lives, One Woman at a Time, and I was struck by this comparison:

          "Abortion simply cannot involve the murder of a living
          human being. Our self-image precludes it. This is why
          it took hundreds of years and a civil war to face what
          is now clear to everyone. The people who defended
          slavery saw themselves as good people who would
          never hurt or abuse another person. Therefore, their
          slaves must not be persons, or at least not 'full'
          persons as they are."

You also stated, "We're still fighting to protect a woman's right to choose nearly forty years after Roe v. Wade, and we could be just one Supreme Court justice away from losing it." Yet Martin Luther King, Jr., wrote nearly fifty years ago from Birmingham City Jail, "We should never forget that everything Adolf Hitler did in Germany was 'legal.'"

Finally, you asked, "How could this be happening in 2012?"

Indeed, Ms. Warren, indeed.

Sincerely,

Carilyn Flynn

I Don't Stand With Planned Parenthood

PLEASE NOTE: I did not compose the following letter. I cut and pasted a letter written by a Planned Parenthood supporter ("I Stand With Planned Parenthood") and changed some key words and phrases. All words changed or added are in CAPS (with the exception of the final "ME").
-------------------------------------------------
This is for all the anti-LIFE anti-UNBORN people out there.

Listen up.

You can spend every minute of every day trying to force the rest of us to live by your ideology. You can go after federal funds for PLANNED PARENTHOOD and pressure private organizations like the Susan G. Komen for the Cure Foundation to CONTINUE FUNDING PLANNED PARENTHOOD. You can try to make it CHILD'S PLAY to get birth control.

But you know what you can't do? You can't win. You can't break us. THE RIGHT TO LIFE isn't just a family of organizations. It's a movement. It's women and men of all ages who believe that LIFE — including THE LIVES OF THE UNBORN — is a basic human right. We are millions strong. We are everywhere. We act, we give, and we do whatever it takes to make sure that LIFE is there for the women, men, and teens who rely on IT.

Know this: When you go after THE UNBORN and the people THAT serve THEM, you go after ME. I stand with THE UNBORN. I stand with them against anyone who wants to stop THEM FROM RECEIVING LIFE. I stand with them today, tomorrow, and for as long as I need to.

--Carilyn Flynn

What's the big deal about Tim Tebow?

This might be the understatement of the year, but there certainly is a lot of talk about Tim Tebow these days. Some talk about him because he has shown great promise despite his unorthodox methods and the ups and downs of the season. Others talk about him for his now infamous prayer stance after plays. Some talk about what a great role model he is; others say his public displays of prayer are--to put it mildly--insincere and that he divides fans the way that Ron Paul divides the Republican party.

In spite of such harsh criticism, what I find interesting is the attention that is being focused on Tebow's intended message. More than one media outlet (and not just Fox News and The Wall Street Journal) has reported the coincidence between Tebow's eye-black (a reference to John 3:16), his total yardage (316), and his average passing distance (31.6) in last Sunday's game. While there will still be some that scoff and judge his motives, according to Sally Jenkins from The Washington Post, "Tebow has never once suggested God cares about football."

But he has suggested that God cares about you.

Stumbling through the dark

I recently read a book a dear friend sent me: Evolving in Monkey Town: How a girl who knew all the answers learned to ask the questions. It's a coming-of-age faith journey that is part To Kill a Mockingbird--in the way the author delightfully weaves Scout-like stories of her childhood into the narrative--and part Christian Living. Author Rachel Held Evans grew up in Birmingham, Alabama, until her family moved to Dayton, Tennessee, when she was thirteen. Dayton is famous for the 1925 Scopes Monkey Trial, which, for-better-or-for-worse, put Dayton on the map. This was exactly the intention of those who decided to stage this trial and essentially pitted evolution against Christianity. The defendant was a local schoolteacher by the name of Scopes, who admitted to breaking state law by teaching evolution in his classroom. The defense was taken up by agnostic Clarence Darrow, while the prosecution was heralded by fundamentalist William Jennings Bryan. The trial became a spectacle--boasting thousands of spectators--and while Scopes was found guilty, it was the Christian faith that really took a beating.

Evans frames her book with the thesis that faith must evolve in order to survive. She asserts, "Evolution means letting go of our false fundamentals so that God can get into those shadowy places we're not sure we want him to be" (23). While I agree that faith can and should evolve, truth does not. Truth is truth, however "inconvenient" (to filch a phrase from Al Gore). In the history of the Church, truth has not evolved, but our understanding of truth has. The fact that the Church came to reconcile Copernican theory with faith is not because truth changed--the earth had always revolved around the sun--but because the Bible was interpreted in light of this new understanding. Rather than declaring Scriptures that seem to support a Geocentric view of the world irrelevant (after all, don't we still use unscientific words such as sunrise and sunset?), they should be viewed as historical accounts that reflect the scientific understanding of the time. There are those that might suggest that if the Bible is the inspired Word of God, then He should have directed the writers to get their facts straight, but perhaps that misses the point. Our limited understanding of truth does not affect its "trueness." Either something is true, or it isn't; either God is real, or He isn't. The fact that we might hold erroneous beliefs about God or haven't "figured Him out" yet does not negate His existence.

At the same time, sometimes I become incredibly frustrated with my limited understanding or the things in the Bible that appear unclear. I mean, if God wanted us to do something--or not do something else--wouldn't He make it blatantly clear (the Ten Commandments come to mind) so that there could be no argument about it? How are we supposed to sift through moral and sundry laws thousands of years later--now that eating pork is not so iffy--and know which we are supposed to keep and which are to be abandoned? People are protesting at the funerals of gay military with "God hates fags" signs because they think the Bible makes this perfectly clear, yet the aforementioned sundry laws that don't necessarily apply in light of current Board of Health standards. So how are we to know what is wheat and what is chaff?

While I firmly believe that if Christianity is true, it can stand in the face of doubt, reading this book has certainly muddied the waters for me. Evans writes, "Sometimes God uses change in the environment to pry idols from our grip and teach us something new" (22). At times like these, I can stand on one thing that I know to be true: when Jesus was asked about fundamentals, he said, "Love the Lord your God...and love your neighbor as yourself" (Luke 10:27). I'm pretty sure advancements in science and improvements in food handling will never make that one mute.

Why my choice is celibacy

"I remember the cool girls when I was growing up. Everyone started to have sex. But it's not really cool any more to have sex all the time. It's cooler to be strong and independent." --Lady Gaga

I am sick and tired of people telling me I ought to have sex. What happened to the "live and let live" that they otherwise seem to herald? If they have the right to make their own choices, I should have the right to make mine--without commentary from the peanut gallery. I don't repeatedly tell them that they shouldn't have sex!

I am sick and tired of people telling me that I need to have sex to fully experience life (which is why I am so annoyed with that movie, "Becoming Jane." Jane Austen has to have had an illicit love affair in order to be a great writer? What an insult to her talent!). If a person must experience "all that life has to offer" in order to live fully, then is any missed opportunity to be considered a less than full life? What if I never get to [insert experience here]? That's life. Is sex suddenly in the same category along with air, food, and water? Or does having sexual intercourse suddenly make me a better person? While it is obvious that the human race needs sex to continue, the human individual does not need sex to survive (despite what some "The Real Housewives of New Jersey" husbands might claim).

While the power of human sexuality is inarguable, it doesn't mean that celibacy is impossible. People who argue that those who save sex for marriage often get married just to have sex, are having sex just to have sex--so who is better off? Is it better to "try out" sexual partners without the pressure of marriage (and risk disease and unwanted pregnancy) or to marry someone (with the desire to have sex looming large) that might not be your perfect match? People have sex before marriage, get married, and still get divorced; who is to say that waiting until marriage is worse? I can hear it now: At least they had fun along the way...

I am sick and tired of people telling me that I am repressed. How do they know what I am? Can they read my mind? Just because I exercise self-control in this area does not mean that I have some unhealthy storm growing inside of me. I might have the urge to hit someone, curse, or overeat, but the fact that I choose not to does not mean that I am frustrated (v. [made] worthless or of no avail; defeat[ed]; nullif[ied]). Do I wish I could have sex? Sure. Do I want to apart from a committed relationship? No. Why not, you might ask? Because sex is intimate. Because my soul is connected to my body, and giving my body to another person in that way--for me--is tantamount to letting someone open my skull and touch my brain. Not only could such a thing be very painful if done without loving care, but it could potentially invite infection. ;p

I have chosen not to have sex until I am married. Some might say that marriage is a human construct, but the reality is, that it is an "institution" that most people recognize to represent a committed relationship. Can you have a committed relationship without "a piece of paper"? Sure. But I would ask, "Why do you need to have a committed relationship without marriage? Is it because you do not really want to commit?"


Can a monogamous relationship include loving sex? Of course. But if I have no guarantee that the relationship is going to last, the sex (with or without intercourse) would have reservations. I have told guys that I have dated--and I have loved--"I just want you to know, [that I could have sex with you, and] you could have me, but you wouldn't really have me." Why? Because I would always hold something back.

Of course there are no guarantees. We live in a fallen world. I could get married to a wonderful man in a glorious ceremony and something could happen beyond my control. He could die. He could cheat. He could decide he doesn't want to be married anymore. All these things certainly make sex uncertain no matter how you slice it. But that doesn't make me want to share my soul with just anyone; it makes me want to protect it all the more.

And I will.

"Us" Against "Them"

Rolling Stone has a political feature in each issue called, “Threat Assessment: The Good, The Bad, and The Scary,” in which they place news stories on a sort of sliding scale where then rank items as either “With Us” (Good) or “Against Us" (Bad/Scary). Interestingly enough, the good, “With Us” items are on the left side, which is shaded blue, and the bad, scary, “Against Us” points are on the right, which is colored, appropriately, red.

Who exactly is the “Us” in this scenario? Is it fair that the compilers of the sidebar assume that their readers are both leftward leaning and Democrats?

The following are some examples that all readers of Rolling Stone are supposed to herald or abhor (although many are undeniably funny):

With us: “Bedbugs infest Fox News Studio”; “Taliban mortar fire disrupts Toby Keith concert in Afghanistan”; “Ecuador signs constitution giving nature inalienable rights.”

Against Us: “Obama chooses Bud Light for 'Beer Summit'"; “Legal name of candidate running to replace Sen. Larry Craig: 'Pro-Life.'”

What if I like Bud Light? Or Toby Keith? Does that make me a bad person? I had no idea Rolling Stone was so snobby.

It would be one thing if they simply wrote about their opinion, but to assume that their readers all fall within the “with us” end of the spectrum is insulting. Perhaps the column’s creators are believers in absolute truth?

The anatomy of donating a kidney (aka @!$# Genes!)

The other day I heard a program on NPR about George Price. Not only was he the geneticist who discovered the mathematical equation for altruism (the Price Equation), but he was a man who worked to prove his own formula wrong.

This theorem can be observed in ants--among other critters--that work to protect the lives of their relatives over the lives of those that don't share some of their genetic code. Apparently, the reason for such selflessness is selfishly motivated by the desire to preserve their genes.

While I can relate to the fact that I would be more willing to donate a kidney to my brother than a stranger, I balk at the notion that it's because I am instinctively preserving my genes for future generations. I mean, first of all, my brother has already been fruitful and multiplied, so saving him really has nothing to do with saving our family genetics--if my brother or I were adopted, and I happened to be a match, I would be willing to give my brother a kidney because he is my brother, not due to some evolutionary predisposition.

Price's mental state nonwitstanding, I'm pretty sure he would too.

Do, do, do; lo, lo, lo...

Friends, what kind of car do you drive?

Because I'm thinking if I have a list of "friends cars" in my head (please be specific: color/make/model/bumper stickers/state of registration), instead of being mad at a driver (in a red/Honda/Civic/with a Red Sox bumper sticker/and Massachusetts plates) who cuts me off on the highway (we're in a construction area for crying out loud!), I can wave and say, "After you, my friend!"

This would replace my terribly bad habit of calling the driver of such a car one of my preferred names such as douche or loser. For a time, I would try to interrupt myself and say, "Do---" or "Lo--". It wasn't long before I began singing the syllables to the melody of the Sting song: "Do, do, do; lo, lo, lo..."


Can you help me sing a new song?

Do hard things...

I just watched the movie, Eat, Pray, Love. I certainly had an affinity for the beauty and cultures (read: food!) that she experienced, but I found her answer to life's great question far too easy: "God is within you, as you." How convenient. If God is in me, then all I need to is love myself. Perhaps the case could be made that if God is in me, then I am also obligated to love others, but if I am God, cannot I do whatever I like?

The Scriptures would say, "No," to a degree. God is love, therefore He must love. I, however, am a selfish, weak human who can barely muster the strength to love people that get under my skin. Sure, I may not be mean outright, but if the world could hear the words that my spirit mutters, all would be made plain. If I congratulate myself on an act of charity, honesty prods me to acknowledge that even when I do something loving, there are times when I hold back. I hold back because true selfless love costs me too much. It is inconvenient. Do I clean up after dinner for my 80-year-old mother even if I haven't eaten? Not today. What about the annoying family friend that drops in unexpectedly? Do I listen to them as attentively as I ought? Do I truly love them when they are present? Oftentimes not.

Even as I fail at doing what I ought to do, I am drawn to things that challenge me. I don't like easy answers. I mean, I like 'em, but not really. Easy is easy, so where is the satisfaction in that? I prefer things like, "Turn the other cheek..." or "love your neighbor..." which includes those who aren't so "easy" to love. See a pattern here?

Perhaps the beauty of a title like Eat, Pray, Love is that each one is progressively harder than the last. Eat? Easy. Pray? Possibly. Love? God help me.

My Non-Fiction Life

    I am currently reading two books simultaneously: Timothy Keller’s The Reason for God and Radical: Taking Back Your Faith from the American Dream by David Platt. Yes, I love non-fiction, and it is only in recent years that I have come to enjoy fiction as much. Perhaps it is because non-fiction books are so helpful and practical and full of good advice, yet very rarely do I find the life and actions of a fictional character worthy of repeating. Jane Eyre, Anne of Green Gables, maybe, but while I love Louise Erdrich’s prose, I wouldn’t say that many of her characters are worth imitating. Non-fiction, on the other hand, I can count on—to enrich my life and challenge me to be a better person; fiction often feels merely like an escape. This begs the question, Who doesn’t like to escape? But it is precisely because life frequently demands escaping that I feel compelled to stay—face it head on—fight the good fight. I would much rather spend my time improving this life than trying to get out of it—that is, until I die.
    The piece of non-fiction that has impacted my life most profoundly is Elisabeth Elliot’s autobiographical book, Loneliness: It can be a Wilderness. It can be a Pathway to God (more recently titled, The Path of Loneliness: Finding Your Way Through the Wilderness to God). I was seventeen years old when my first love decided upon his sophomore year in college that he wanted to date other people. I retreated to this book and found deep consolation in the words of a woman—twice widowed—who was still able to declare amidst all the suffering, “the Lord himself goes at your head; he will be with you; he will not fail you or forsake you. Do not be discouraged or afraid” (Deut. 31:8). Now, that I can dig.

Roommate Moment #1

Tonight my Mom and I had one.

She was cooking dinner (courtesy of dreamdinners.com) and waiting on the fish of our "Baked Fish and Chips" to finish baking. Meanwhile, she had pulled out the "chips" and squirted some ketchup on the cooling cookie sheet. The next thing you know, we are standing over the stove talking and eating french fries hot out of the oven.

Who knew that 80-year-olds could be so fun and spontaneous?

I do.

I too, can trust Him

From the daily devotional, Streams in the Desert:

"Surrender your very selves to God as living men who have risen from the dead." (Romans 6:13.) (Weymouth.)

I went one night to hear an address on consecration. No special message came to me from it, but as the speaker kneeled to pray, he dropped this sentence: "O Lord, Thou knowest we can trust the Man that died for us." And that was my message. I rose and walked down the street to the train; and as I walked, I pondered deeply all that consecration might mean to my life and--I was afraid. And then, above the noise and clatter of the street traffic came to me the message: "You can trust the Man that died for you."

I got into the train to ride homeward; and as I rode, I thought of the changes, the sacrifices, the disappointments which consecration might mean to me and--I was afraid.

I reached home and sought my room, and there upon my knees I saw my past life. I had been a Christian, an officer in the church, a Sunday-school superintendent, but had never definitely yielded my life to God.

Yet as I thought of the darling plans which might be baffled, of the cherished hopes to be surrendered, and the chosen profession which I might be called upon to abandon--I was afraid.

I did not see the better things God had for me, so my soul was shrinking back; and then for the last time with a swift rush of convicting power, came to my innermost heart that searching message:

"My child, you can trust the Man that died for you. If you cannot trust Him who can you trust?"

That settled it for me, for in a flash I saw that the Man who so loved me as to die for me could be absolutely trusted with all the concerns of the life He had saved.

Friend, you can trust the Man that died for you. You can trust Him to baffle no plan which is not best to be foiled, and to carry out every one which is for God's glory and your highest good. You can trust Him to lead you in the path which is the very best in this world for you.--J. H. McC.

"Just as I am, thy love unknown,
Has broken every barrier down,
Now to be Thine, yea, Thine ALONE,
O Lamb of God, I come!"

Terror and Trust

Tonight I went to a concert to benefit Mission of Hope in Haiti. As watched images of broken people being restored, I thought of how often God uses the evil things of this world for good. On the ride home I heard the following lyric:

I see the faith of our fathers/ Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob/ They never saw what was promised/ But they never once felt forsaken

I realized that perhaps the things I perceive as promises in my life will, like those men in the history of faith, remain unfulfilled for God’s greater purpose. While I would be honored to be such a vessel, it might require emptying myself of many of the dreams I have for my future including marriage and children.

I dare not thwart God’s purposes and plans, and I would rather have what He has for me than what I might choose for myself (as hard as that might be to receive), and I have come to the following conclusion: I trust Him. And I am terrified.