My father; my protector

This is the real-life allegory of how law meets grace through an advocate.

I was the perfect tenant. I paid rent on time, I didn't make noise, and when I moved out, I cleaned the apartment out. I made sure the place was swept, vacuumed and that all the counters were clean.

But I made one huge mistake that could have cost me my whole deposit. Instead of sending my landlord a written 30-day notice, I called him up and gave him my notice over the phone.

(always keep everything in writing, boys and girls. The more you know...)

So yesterday, when I finally got in touch with my [now former] landlord (which I had tried to do every day since I moved out on Friday) about getting him my keys and getting back my deposit, he questioned me about my 30 day notice, and said he remembered me calling him but he couldn't prove it in writing to his accountant, so he wanted to just give my part of my deposit back instead of all of it, to "save him the hassle" of explaining it to his accountant.

I didn't argue, but I didn't think that was a fair deal either, so I simply told him I'd meet him at the agreed-upon time.

Then I called Dad and asked him for his advice, and then picked him up on my way to the landlord's office. When we got there, Dad started to negotiate with the landlord, reminding him that even if my 30-day notice couldn't be proved in writing, I had given him notice. Furthermore, I kept the place clean, and had even saved the landlord money by telling him approximately how many gallons per month (4,000) the bathtub faucet was leaking out. Dad also reminded him that he hadn't completed my maintenance requests (with the exception of the bathtub faucet) or complied with city ordinances about window screens. The landlord said he was already giving me a break by even giving me part of the deposit though his management company's policy is to not return the deposit without a written 30-day notice.

Dad persisted, offering up the idea of giving me part of the deposit and "paying" me the rest as if I were a cleaning service, and suggesting we might need to talk to our "lawyer" about it... and after 45 minutes, Dad eventually wore him down. I got my whole deposit back, and as soon as we got out of the office, Dad directed me to go to the bank immediately to cash the check instead of deposit it, so that there would be no chance of the landlord stopping the check.

I feel so blessed to have a father who takes care of me like that, who willingly steps in my place to fight the battles I do not have the strength or knowledge to fight, and who champions my cause simply because I am his child and he wants me to be nurtured as I grow up and mature in this confusing, and sometimes dark and scary world.

But I am even more blessed to have a heavenly father who has done the very same for me.

I was raised well, taught to do what was right, followed many of the rules and became a model citizen in society. I even graduated summa cum laude. That counts for something, right?

But according to the law, if I've broken just one of the 10 commandments - even if I followed all the rest religiously - I've broken the whole law, and am deserving of punishment.

But God my father desires to take care of me. He sent his son Jesus to willingly take my place, being punished on my behalf, and fight off the long arm of the law for me. Jesus championed my life simply because I am his, and he protects those who are his, because he wants me to grow and mature according to His plan for me.

I am truly blessed.

My role models

My parents' wedding rings are kind of awesome. Oh, they're scratched and dull, but after 42 years of marriage, both rings have worn down a permanent groove on their ring fingers.

It's been so long since they've taken them off that I'm not sure either of them could even if they tried. Not even to polish them.

That's a feat I want to accomplish someday.

Happy anniversary, Mom and Dad!

Ambassador meets politician - the chicken conundrum

To my fellow disciples of Christ:

The big news this week has not been a fiasco. It has not been a triumph either. The world is fallen and words are used and abused every day; it just became more apparent this week. It's one shining example in a sea of humanity.

We are in a nation experiencing culture shock within its own borders. The reason? The Kingdom of God has no borders.

Christians will always be strangers in a strange land, wherever we live. I consider myself blessed to live in the U.S.A., but my first allegiance is not to my country of birth but to my kingdom of rebirth.

When U.S. citizens meet Kingdom citizens, culture shock is the norm, not the exception. We have different values, and vastly different definitions for the same words, thus we speak different languages. But we somehow still expect that we'll understand each other easily, with all the nuances and undertones that exist in the universe.

This is how words are so easily misunderstood: two very different groups of people can read the very same set of words and feel very differently about them. Did I say very enough for you?

One group reads a message of hate and intolerance, the other group reads a message of steadfast - yet tough - love, tempered with thankfulness.

Are either of these groups wrong in their interpretation?

No, because (again) they are citizens of different kingdoms. In one kingdom, those words are fighting words, filled with anger and venom directed at a specific group of people. In the other kingdom, those words are just as dispassionate as stating that the grass is going to die because we didn't water it enough, and being thankful that we have water.

Comments about dying grass can get ugly, too. If you tell your neighbor he doesn't water enough, he's gonna be offended. Maybe he just doesn't want to water his grass. Maybe he doesn't want to pay a higher bill. So where do we draw the line?

We can start by remembering that we're ambassadors, not politicians. A politician is talking to his own statesmen and has a general idea of what he needs to say to garner more votes. An ambassador is a representative of his country (or Kingdom) who lives on foreign soil.

Imagine the uproar if an official American ambassador to France called a Frenchman a wimp and gave him a white flag. This guy would not be an ambassador for much longer. Who doesn't enjoy a good white flag joke, right? And remember "freedom fries"? Still, would you make those same jokes while in France? Unfortunately, some have done so. No wonder many French don't speak English around American tourists.

(You see the similarity, here? I'm not just talking about Christian versus non-Christian culture. I'm also talking about American culture versus any other culture. Many Americans seem to assume their own culture should be the dominant one. And when two cultures both deeply steeped in their own versions of American culture meet, therein lies our problem. This is the stuff of loyalty, nay, fealty. This starts boycotts. This starts discussions of "our rights as Americans.")

That's politician stuff. Let's think again for a minute about being ambassadors. What does the job entail?

Ambassadors have the difficult role of trying to be diplomatic with people groups who lead different lives and have their own culture. Living on foreign soil doesn't mean abandoning your own culture, it means living the way you normally live in your home country, but gently. Some customs offend, so always be prepared to offer an explanation. Also, be prepared for more misunderstandings, and pray continually that the Holy Spirit will give you the words to diffuse an argument peacefully.

And that's just about all I have to say about Chick-fil-A.

Now, check out this song!

How many birthdays have you?

Imagine a few more candles and we're there!

I'm 18 today.

Surprised? 

Here's the story: 18 years ago today, I understood for the first time what Jesus' sacrifice on the cross had done for me. I recognized that I was a sinner, realized that I needed Jesus and accepted Him into my heart. That was the day that I was born again.

I know for certain that it was June 27, 1994, because the amazing, godly woman who led me in that prayer keeps records of such things, and I asked her about it a few years ago.

So, now I celebrate two birthdays each year; one physical and one spiritual.

This year is a milestone for me. I've been saved for 3/4 of my life. Also, it signifies the true end of my teenage years. I have gone through six years of college and finally graduated; I've gone through two breakups that both taught me a few valuable lessons; I've experienced the ache of ending friendships - and the miracle of resurrecting one I thought was lost. I've gone through so many changes as a person, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually, that I am not even the same person I was a year ago.

And now it's time to enter a new phase: adulthood.

An 18-year-old may not act like an adult, but she is still legally considered an adult and must suffer consequences and receive rewards as an adult does. There are different benefits and different rules that come with being an adult. An adult has more responsibility, yet more freedom to choose how to deal with her responsibilities. An adult does not make excuses, but admits when she is at fault and strives to overcome her weakness. An adult recognizes that "independance" is just a wishful invention of teenagers who think that the rules their elders set for them are restrictive, when, in fact, they are for protection. There is no independence-only a misplaced reliance on the self, which falls away when each person recognizes that they need each other and God to get them through life.

An adult is not defined by what she does, but by who she trusts in every minute of the day. But acting like an adult certainly helps! C.S. Lewis said it well in Mere Christianity:

"Very often the only way to get a quality in reality is to start behaving as if you had it already. That is why children's games are so important. They are always pretending to be grown-ups-playing soldiers, playing shop. But all the time, they are hardening their muscles and sharpening their wits, so that the pretence of being grown-up helps them to grow up in earnest." 

So, from this day forward, I am going to really start acting like an adult. And I will start becoming one. I will keep my trust in Christ always, even when my fears try to tell me he's turned his back. I will strive to know his nature, and lean on him when I know I need his help.

And I'll celebrate little milestones like this: my birthday.

In closing, I'd like to share the second verse of the Birthday song. I'm not sure how many of you have heard or sang this before, but we always sang it in the Grace Brethren church I grew up in, so I've become very fond of this verse:

Happy Birthday to you,
Only one will not do;
Born again means salvation,
How many birthdays have you?

Imagine forever, never alone

I had a vision last month.

In my vision, I was surrounded by a dozen bright angels, but they were all facing away from me. They seemed to be ignoring me, turning away from my pleas for help. All around me I could hear whispers telling me things about myself, things that made me feel awful. I began crying, and I desperately wanted comfort. And these angels didn't seem to care how broken and alone I was.

Then I thought of seeking comfort elsewhere. I tried leaving the angels, but they had formed a tight barricade around me. I felt like a prisoner in that circle of light. I even started suspecting that these angels were saying all the terrible things about me. I couldn't see their faces, so I couldn't rule out that possibility.

Gradually, my eyes grew more acclimated to the light around me. I began to see that more was going on than I first thought. I couldn't see anything of substance beyond the angels. In fact, it seemed like I would be in complete darkness if they weren't there.

And they weren't just standing. The group of them were revolving around me, making dramatic motions that looked quite strange from behind. It might have been an angelic version of the Macarena.

Just as sound travels behind light, my ears were opened to the truth only after my eyes had led them. I began to hear the flinch-worthy sounds of battle.

These angels weren't dancing; they were fighting to protect me!

A swarm of writhing, screeching, gnawing, biting demons was clawing its way toward me, but all of the demons were held back by this wonderful barrier of angels all around me. Not one demon was able to reach me. Not one of them could even catch a glimpse of me. I was safe from their touch, and safe from their gaze.

I couldn't get out, and nothing else could get in.

I was honored and humbled at once. To be so important that a guard of angels fought to protect me, yet so helpless that I couldn't raise my own sword in defense.

In the shock of seeing, hearing and understanding what was going on, I had forgotten about the whispers. As I calmed down, They began to reach me again.

But now, I knew where they were coming from. Insults, gripes, pessimistic foretellings, reminders of failed friendships and injustices... the demons were behind them all. Because they could not touch me, they shouted insults my way. The enemy lashed out with words to spite the words my creator spoke to give me life. And because I was blinded to their presence, I felt alone and worthless.

But when I realized all of this, the flame of their words dwindled and fell like ash.

And I realized something else.


I am never alone.

Full-circle: The Transcendence of God (Video post)

Have you ever come across an old journal entry or school project of yours and realized that you haven't come that far after all? Have you maybe realized that some of the ideas expressed are far different from the ones you have now... and then wished that you still thought that way or believed that way?

I had that experience a couple of months ago. I was roaming through old files on my computer... I have each semester's work in its own folder, saved up for posterity, I suppose. Some of the files are absolute rubbish... but some are gems that I forgot I'd hidden.

This gem was a silly, cheesy, low-quality video for my Basic Christian Beliefs class in spring 2010. It was one of the very few team projects I've done that worked out beautifully. My teammates got to go ask questions to get footage, and I got to explain this idea about God... this diagram that had been rolling around in my head... It was a win-win. We all had fun, and we all got an A.

The term "full-circle" is both apt and ironic right now... because in one sense, I've come full-circle from being obsessed with this diagram to kind of forgetting about it for awhile to being a bit obsessed with it again. And it's also about a circle... which also contains an eternity symbol and comes in contact with a line. Okay, I'm a nerd.

And so, without further ado, here is the silly video, unchanged from when we submitted it... in three parts. Yep. This is amateur stuff right here... but I am still amazed at how relevant it still is.