Some of the Coolest People in Hastings

I was recently listening to an interview with Shane Claiborne, and he shared the following anecdote about two men discussing why pain and suffering exist, "...one guy said, 'You know, I wonder why God allows all this poverty and pain and hurting in the world?' And his friend says, 'Well, why don't you ask God that?' And the guy says, 'Well, I guess I'm scared.' And he says, 'What are you scared of?' He says, 'I guess I'm scared that God will ask me the same question.'"

Last month, I sat in a conference room with some of the coolest people in Hastings. I don't remember the exact statistic, but in Hastings High School there are 40? (maybe higher) known students who are homeless and parent-less. These teens float from couch to couch, finding their own food, and giving themselves direction.

And this conference room, full of the some of the coolest people in Hastings, don't think that's right. They are passionate about creating a space where the lost, not only find stability and love, but are found.

And it's really beautiful.

Last year I interviewed a volunteer, who said she wanted to be a mentor because, "No kid gets to choose the family/home that they grow up in. But every child deserves a chance." Everyday our office hears stories of 17 year-olds who keep visiting their mentee, even though they have bad hygiene, or they have been abused, or they get defensive and say hurtful things.

And I think I'm among saints.

Sometimes I get discouraged when I hear people comment, 'That's just the way things are.' It makes me sad when I hear how much money goes into Christmas decorations, when people in our own community struggle to afford the basic necessities.

Then, I get a chance to watch humanity elbow deep in the process of redemption. And that's enough to make me hope again.

Within 30 seconds she explained my pain...

Jen and I were sweeping out her basement.

"I think people go through phases of understanding God...

One when they first start to encounter Him.

Then they move into this false confidence of thinking they have Him figured out, phase two.

Eventually, we move to a place where we face serious doubts, but usually during this phase we're afraid to say anything...because we understand just how little we have figured out.

Maybe people in the last phase need to talk more than the people in phase two."

And within 30 seconds she explained my pain.

An everyday occurrence...

I think this is brilliant.

"And then you" by Walter Brueggemann

We arrange our lives as best we can,
to keep your holiness at bay,
with our pieties,
our doctrines,
our liturgies,
our moralities,
our secret ideologies,
Safe, virtuous, settled.
And then you--
you and your dreams,
you and your visions,
you and your purposes,
you and your commands,
you and our neighbors.
We find your holiness not at bay,
but probing, pervading,
insisting, demanding.
And we yield, sometimes gladly,
sometimes resentfully,
sometimes late...or soon.
We yield because you, beyond us, are our God.
We are your creatures met by your holiness,
by your holiness made our true selves.
And we yield. Amen

Never "Never" Land

I have this bowl of salt on my dresser.


Last summer, I listened to a podcast in which the speaker described the old testament city of Jericho. Jericho is probably most famous for its epic downfall. Remember marching around block forts in the church basement seven times with cheap tambourines and kazoos? Most people don't realize that after the Israelites destroyed Jericho, Joshua cursed the city, claiming any man who tried to rebuild its walls would lose both his first and last born sons. Later, a rebellious king attempted to resurrect Jericho and bore the consequences. However, when the prophet Elisha visited Jericho, some of the people of the town reminded him of the curse. Elisha asked them to bring him a bowl filled with salt, which he threw into the springs surrounding Jericho and cleansed the city of its curse. (See Joshua 6, 1 Kings 16:34, 2 Kings 2:19-22 for the full breakdown).

Obscure story? Is there a point?

Yes.

The story symbolizes the elimination of "never and always" thinking. The city was NEVER meant to be rebuilt, it would ALWAYS be cursed. Yet, Elisha (a mouth piece of God) contradicted this thinking.

"Never & Always" thinking is pretty common...

I will NEVER find love.

This ALWAYS happens to me.

He will NEVER change.

My parents will ALWAYS disagree with my decisions.

We will NEVER have a baby.

The rich will ALWAYS ignore the poor.

Pain will NEVER cease.

"Never & Always" thinking paralyzes us. We feel defeated before even trying, with the assumption that powerful supernatural forces will keep us from a better reality.

The bowl of salt on my dresser reminds me that change is possible, to believe in possibilities, to hope, and to reject "Never & Always" thinking.

The Fate of Bees

I just finished The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery for my book club.

(Note to the girls in my book club: If you have not finished the book yet, you are a slacker and might not want to read any more.)

This New York Times bestseller alternates between the narrative of 12-year old, wealthy youth contemplating suicide and her middle-aged concierge. Both women struggle throughout the book to understand their place in life, and conflicting messages they feel humanity accepts without hesitation.

One chapter still has me thinking. Paloma starts each of her "Profound Thoughts" with a haiku:

Who presumes
To make honey
Without sharing the bee's fate?

Paloma writes: "Living, eating, reproducing, fulfilling the task for which we were born, and dying: it has no meaning, true, but that's the way things are. People are so arrogant, thinking they can coerce nature, escape their destiny of little biological things...and yet they remain so blind to the cruelty or violence of their own way of living, loving, reproducing and making war on their fellow human beings...Personally I think there is only one thing to do: find the task we have been placed on this earth to do, and accomplish it as best we can, with all our strength, without making things complicated or thinking there's anything divine about our animal nature. This is the only way we will ever feel that we have been doing something constructive when death comes to get us. Freedom, choice, will, and so on? Chimeras. We think we can make honey without sharing in the fate of bees, but we are in truth nothing but poor bees, destined to accomplish our task and then die."

As I finished the book, I felt really sad...because I think Muriel Barber really concludes that "we are in truth nothing but poor bees."

And when I'm honest, I have to admit that a lot of days I live with the same conclusion: my purpose in life is to find the task, finish it, and not make things complicated by wanting greater meaning. Destiny is written and I might as well submit to the way things are.

I like theology that views Jesus Christ as hope of the opposite.

If all of the Old Testament prophets were pointing to Christ, who disrupted religious people by proclaiming salvation for ALL people...symbolizing a revolution of tradition and the way things were.

Then maybe faith isn't as much about being right, as it is about believing in renewal and dreaming about change.

Love and Community

Today I am convicted.

"The person who's in love with their vision of community, will destroy community. But the person who loves the people around them will create community wherever they go." -Dietrich Bonhoeffer

I struggle to love Christians.

My closest friends know well, that this fatal flaw in me is deep and strong.

I'm enchanted with the prospect of a church that accepts, loves, forgives, and encourages the under-dog. But this is the very thing I fail to do for others...and the very thing that prevents me from experiencing what I hope for.

May I become someone who loves those around me...all of those around me.

All Around Me

(Summer 2007--Spring Hill Camps, Michigan) One year out of college, I felt like a complete failure. I didn't realize it was possible for a person to crash their car twice, quit three jobs, and live off toast for 12 full months... but that had been my life. I had a degree, but no direction. And I felt that I had already wasted my life by the age of 23.

One afternoon feeling particularly lost, I decided to go for a long walk in the woods surrounding camp. Something about undisturbed nature so appropriately sets the stage for encounter with God...and that's what I wanted. I think I was naively searching for the audible voice of God to give me direction. "Tiffany, go to school in Michigan and become a social worker." "Tiffany, go into full time ministry." "Tiffany, you really should be designing shoes." I wanted something clear and direct.

I found a small clearing surrounded by the tall trees of Michigan with one large fallen tree in the center. I settled in a nook of the fallen tree and sat, waiting. At first, I encountered silence...

But, eventually the wind picked up and I found myself completely surrounded by one of the most powerful, comforting movements I've ever experienced. I didn't hear anything clear or direct, but I felt an overwhelming peace that God was with me.

I recently read an excerpt by Eugene Peterson (author of The Message) about prayer and listening to God's voice. He compared the process of prayer to the experience of feeling wind.

He emphasized that like the wind, God speaks in ways that are strong and present. Wind is a mysterious movement. It's actually quite incredible when you think about the fact that something you can't see can so unmistakeably move you. The same is true for prayer. We know we are encountering something, but often it's filled with mystery rather than certainty...which leads us to walk in faith.

I look to prayer, like I look to the wind. God's voice is often mysterious. But He is active, He is moving, and He is near. And I guess that's all I need to know.

And now a flashback from 2007..

Donald Miller: The Plural Subject

I feel a little like a cop-out...two days in a row posting a link to another person's blog. However, I just read this post by Donald Miller.

Both articles from yesterday and today hit on the topic of meaningful community. I'm growing in my conviction about the way I view community. I'm eager to share with you all...and possibly hear your thoughts.

Kyria: Thoughts on Facebook

Check out the latest article on the Kyria Blog.

I find myself often agreeing with Beatrice...and I find myself presumptuously referring to her as "Beatrice". I ask a lot of Bea's questions and am curious as to your thoughts.

What impact does facebook/online communication have on your relationships? How does this balance with staying connected to people in your "clear and present" reality?

The Darkness of Fake Chocolate

One Christmas during high school, I received a giant Hershey's Chocolate Kiss from a Secret-Santa gift exchange. Not wanting to eat the whole thing myself, I decided to share with my old man and told him where I was hiding the chocolate from my sisters in the closet. Every now and then when one of us was having a craving we would find the chocolate, take a bite, and return it to its hiding place.

A few months later after school, I pulled down the box and went to take a bite of the diminishing piece of chocolate...and I noticed a piece of grass.

Dear old dad had finished the last of our chocolate. But filled with one part guilt, nine parts dark-Heidtbrink-humor, he had decided to find a replacement: a clod of dirt from outside, in which he artfully pressed his fingernails to resemble teeth marks.

Funny, but no matter how hard we try to disguise something by placing it in a strategic location or with the appropriate wrapping...the nature of that thing does not change. A clod of mud wrapped in aluminum foil...is still a clod of mud.

Religious people have always tried to disguise themselves by being in the right locations, saying the right words, and doing the right actions. But location, words, and actions don't change what's inside.

One of my favorite 'Jesus moments' emphasizes this point. Jesus, sick of religious hypocrisy, tells a whole crowd of right-place, right-word, right-action people that their hearts are ugly...in fact he refers to them as "white-washed tombs" (flawless on the outside but filled with rot and death on the inside.) "Blind people," He says to them, "First make sure the inside of the cup is clean, then also the outside will be clean."

In reverse, a piece of chocolate lying on pavement does not magically turn into a clod of dirt. Being honest about our lives, often leaves us exposed and vulnerable. We may find ourselves open to the judgment or ridicule of others.

I love meeting the chocolate-on-pavement kind of people, because those people are real. They're the kind of people whose sweetness is not deceiving, but brave and pure.

Within Our Own Walls

During my summer in Puebla, some friends took me to visit the Secret Convent of Santa Monica. Hidden in the heart of the city, Santa Monica housed daughters of wealthy Christians who had become pregnant out of wedlock. The silence of their shame still filled the convent's tight corridors and inner gardens. One large room felt hollow and empty, the focal point being a tall blank wall. Holes covered the wall and connected the empty room to a public cathedral on the other side. Girls would stand at the holes to watch their friends and family attend mass and reach for the smallest connection to their former lives. My friends told me that there were children who never saw the outside of the convent. They were born to their unwed mothers, raised by the nuns, and died within four walls tucked in the heart of a busy city...a city unaware of their existence.

Last week I was telling my brother-in-law Bobby about a friend of mine. I commented that she had an incredible heart, but beat herself up a lot. We both reflected that this seems to be the case with most Christians. We have perfected the art of self-deprecation.

We are born, raised, and die within the silent walls of our own shame.

"I shouldn't have said that to him." "I need to pray more." "Why can't I break this addiction?"

I wonder that we have lost the message of Christ so quickly. It's as if we BELIEVE Jesus lived and died...so that we could pass our lives beating ourselves up!

But Jesus came so that we might live, free from shame.

Romans 8:1, 14-16 "Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus...For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God. The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry 'Abba, Father.' The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children."

What's In a Name?

Right after college, a couple of my friends were talking about God's unique design for each of us. They encouraged me to pray that God would reveal to me a name He had chosen to describe me.

God called me Joy.

At first, I felt a quiet nudge in prayer. Not prone to faith in supernatural communication, I wasn't convinced. Until the next day I saw a giant billboard with the solitary word "JOY" written in diamonds. That day at work, I received a Christmas card and holiday pin from a co-worker. The pin simply said, "Joy." The following weekend my mom was on the phone with my aunt Penny who commented, "It was so nice to see Tiffy at the wedding. She is always full of so much JOY."

However, I haven't felt very joyful lately. And here's my conclusion. There are many voices we listen to that crowd out God's voice. These voices can be from pop culture, "You should be skinnier." They might come from family, "Why aren't you married yet?" Sometimes even our faith communities, "You can't act that way!" Regardless, they drown out the voice of He who created us to be unique displays of His character.

I wonder what God has named each of you, AND I wonder which voices you've been hearing.

Friday night, my friend Danielle and I watched Julia Robert's new movie Eat, Pray, Love. The movie is based on the memoir of a recently divorced woman who travels the world in order to find inner-peace. During her stay at a Hindu temple, Robert's character learns to not only forgive herself for past mistakes, but also learns to accept herself and all of her eccentricities. She concludes her stay in India with the statement, "God is in each of us."

In the book of Ephesians, Paul says that God has created each of us with a specific purpose. Some are meant to be teachers, some preachers, some museum curators, some engineers, some stay-at-home moms (4:11). He adds that when we come together we function as a unified body. Paul repeats the body analogy in 1 Corinthians, encouraging us each to embrace our special purpose, "If the whole body were an eye, where would the sense of hearing be? If the whole body were an ear, where would the sense of smell be? But in fact God has arranged the parts in the body, every one of them, just as he wanted them to be (12:17-18)."

I like the thought that God has chosen to create each human uniquely to portray the complexity of His character. He's quiet and patient, but also loud and passionate. He's both fierce and gentle. He exists in the serious and the crazy.

May we embrace our uniqueness and eccentricities! May we listen to the voice that speaks Truth.

If life were a novel...I'd skip ahead to the good parts.

I'm a chronic last-page reader. An admission I'm pretty sure would exclude me from most respectable readers' circles. Usually my main concern is if the guy gets the girl. And usually I just need to go to bed instead of reading... So, I cheat.

I wish life were like a novel, so I could skim ahead to find out what happens next.

I cringe at the process of life.

This winter I read a great novel by Paulo Coelho, "The Witch of Portebello." There's one scene in the story that stood out to me. In it the main character, Athena, travels to India to learn the art of calligraphy. Once Athena masters the curves and strokes, her teacher leaves her with this conversation:

If all the words were joined together, they wouldn't make sense, or, at the very least, they'd be extremely hard to decipher. The spaces are crucial."

She nodded.

"And although you have mastered the words, you haven't yet mastered the blank spaces. When you're concentrating, your hand is perfect, but when it jumps from one word to the next, it gets lost."

"How do you know that?"

"Am I right?"

"Absolutely. Before I focus on the next word, for a fraction of a second I lose myself. Things I don't want to think about take over."

"And you know exactly what those things are."

Athena knew, but she said nothing until we went back to the tent and she could cradle her sleeping son in her arms. Her eyes were full of tears, although she was trying hard to control herself...

I've heard it said Americans struggle with mental illness more than people of any other culture, because of our fast pace.

I wonder if we're hiding from the spaces..

..if we're avoiding life's process.

...if we're skipping ahead to the parts of life with action.

Coehlo makes a sharp observation of humanity that when we do slow down, our minds go to things that we most likely need to resolve. We become most healthy when we muster the courage to rest amidst the pain and look for healing.

The author of Hebrews also talks about this when they invite us to practice Sabbath:

"Let us therefore strive to enter that rest, so that no one may fall by the same sort of disobedience. For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account (4:11-13)."

Little Moments:2

My sister, Jen, is eight months pregnant. And, the little guy is a mover. Other moms have let me feel their babies 'kick.' But the following awkward scenario usually plays out:

Mom: (Gasps and smiles really big.) Did you feel it?!
Me: (Feeling nothing...but not having the heart to disappoint.) I think so?
Mom: Here. (Readjusts my hand. Gasps/smiles again after a long pause.) There.
Me: (Still nothing. Maybe a hand cramp?) Ohhhh... That's so cool!

Honestly, I'm kind of surprised by how much love I already have for this bulge in my sister's stomach. I know I have felt this little guy move. I haven't seen his smile or heard him laugh. But I know he exists. And that's enough.

I work with a lot of kids who, I'm pretty sure, think their existence is meaningless. Sometimes little things, like forgotten promises, communicate their meaninglessness. Other times their meaningless is more overtly communicated through the words of their friends...teachers...parents.

And it breaks my heart.

Psychologist, Erik Erikson identified eight stages every person goes through in their social development. During a child's elementary age they face a crisis of existence. Am I worth something or a complete mistake?

I hate that people feel like mistakes. Anymore, I feel like a walking billboard for my work at Big Brothers Big Sisters. But without apologies, I really believe in mentoring. I've had front row seats to other attempts at helping people. But what seems most powerful for humanity is connection.

Because presence and connection validate existence.

They validate existence, in a way that is almost spiritual. I mean, God validated our existence through the same means.

It's unfortunate, but I think the word incarnation seems too familiar in the church, like a dusty altar. "Jesus is God incarnate...bla bla bla...next thought."

Incarnation literally means embodied in flesh. And this is what the Creator of all things chose as his secret weapon for redeeming humanity.

...presence.

It's not necessarily about having the right answers. It's not even about being perfect and never hurting others. We know the secret weapon! Humanity craves presence and connection--because with these the importance of our existence is confirmed. And when we know our existence matters, we heal.

Know someone who is hurting? Maybe your presence IS enough.

Embracing Weakness

“Before this, I had come to believe that what makes us human is our mind. But Adam keeps showing me that what makes us human is our heart, the center of our being where God has hidden trust, hope, and love. Whoever sees in Adam merely a burden to society misses the sacred mystery that Adam is fully capable of receiving and giving love. He is fully human—not half human, not nearly human, but fully, completely human because he is all heart. The longer I stay with Adam, the more clearly I see him as a gentle teacher, teaching me what no book or professor ever could.” -Henri Nouwen (Harvard Professor who left a career in academia to live in a L'Arche community.)

Dad says I changed while living in Minnesota. I credit four women who taught me to love reality, even if it seems ugly. All four women had varying disabilities. All four taught me how to live in ability.

One had the ability to make me feel loved. She would laugh with excitement and crane her neck up, "asking" for a hug every time I walked into the front door of her house.

Another had the ability to make me laugh at my mistakes. Her deep chuckle made dropping important medication or a backward sweater seem like pleasant surprises.

One had the ability to make me forget inhibition. My friend and I spent many mornings dancing around in her room, playing the air-guitar, looking like idiots with the slight hope of getting a smile.

And yet another had the ability to make me slow down. She reminded me that time never takes precedence over people.

It has been two years since I've moved back to Nebraska. In this time, two of these women have passed away. But I am forever changed because of my very able teachers.

“We don't know what to do with our own weakness except hide it or pretend it doesn't exist. So how can we welcome fully the weakness of another if we haven't welcomed our own weakness? .... So that, then we go down, what is it that is despicable in ourselves? And there are some elements despicable in ourselves, which we don't want to look at, but
which are part of our natures, that we are mortal.” -Jean Vanier (Founder of L'Arche Communities)

I'm ever embracing weakness, and its beauty is profound. With weakness I am able to forgive and be forgiven. I am able to laugh and rejoice without regret. I am able to dance, free from judgment.

With weakness...

I am able.

Little Moments:1

I love my job. Which is something I think about a lot.

(Insert Shameless Promotional Plug)

Big Brothers Big Sisters from Karen Flanagan on Vimeo.

No Place Like Home

As we tell the story of our lives, setting grounds us in what will be important to the plot.

Harry Potter's destiny unfolds at Hogwarts.

Anne Shirley finds identity at Green Gables.

But place does not define characters only in novels. The concept of home feels important in real life...

...because it is.

Place defines each of us as the pages of our own story turn. Author Phyllis Tickle writes that place communicates deep principles guiding life. Tickle encourages us to particularly pay attention to the place we first remember as home.

I remember standing on a dusty farm lane at the age of 11 thinking, "When I fall in love, I will bring him to this place. (Because this place and I are one)."

Looking in either direction I could see no one. But I could hear the old tractor engine over the hill laboring water out of the Ogallala Aquifer into a long, sweating-cold pipe. The pipe fed the icy river flowing down every-other row of corn, a refreshing contrast to hot, humid, July mornings in Nebraska.

I spent around four hours every day during the summer in this place. Looking across the strings of perfect, smooth corn rows. The grasshoppers jumped from leaf to leaf, a quick gentle counter-'phtt-phtt', against the greater smooth rhythm of the wind. Dad drove a four-wheeler between the well, my mother, my three sisters, and I, motioning when to start and stop opening gates to release the water. Another movement in the great symphony. And we were all one--small parts of a greater experience.

I think about the place of my childhood, and I think about how it formed me. How I learned to recognize my smallness, yet my significance in the greater picture. How I learned to cherish watching something grow into full life.

What are the places of your childhood?

Mapmaking: Look Up.

Near the end of college, I had this vision:

A little girl was walking along a muddy path. She was being very careful to not step in large puddles of water or to trip over tree roots peaking above the ground.

Her face focused downward her spirit quickly grew worn, filled with the tension of trying to stay clean and to avoid possible danger.

Suddenly the little girl realized that when she looked up the view was magnificent. As she continued forward she got a little mud on her feet and even lost her footing a few times, but her journey became filled with beauty and discovery.

Psalm 16:9-11
"Therefore my heart is glad, and my
whole being rejoices;
my flesh also dwells secure.

For you will not abandon my soul...

You make know the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore."

Mapmaking: Color and Contrast

I've been called emotional. And I'm okay with that.

Psychologist, Mary Pipher, says in her most recent book Seeking Peace, "To say that all
privileged people should feel nothing but joy is to assert that all people in dire circumstances should feel nothing but sorrow. While our lives may be different in many ways, our hearts are much alike. We experience the same ever-changing gamut of emotions. Indeed, it is the human condition to feel hope, fear, joy and sorrow. To deny anyone's right to a complete set of human reactions is to deny our common humanity."

In summary, people often feel like being strong and healthy means to not feel. But feeling is what connects us. When we feel, we are capable of knowing each other--not only in an intellectual, but also in a spiritual way.

...I like emotions. I think they add color to life.

While talking to my friend Kristen about Mapmaking, she made a really interesting comment about color:

Me: What's a mistake that a lot of mapmakers make?

Kristen: Many mapmakers try to put too much information on maps or use colors that are hard on the eyes or difficult to interpret. It's best to see an example. I've attached a bad map & a better map (I won't call it good since a map can always be made to look better).



Me: What are good color combinations?

Kristen: Pretty much everything looks better on a gray background. I rarely use black, always a very dark gray. The goal is to have maps that are readable & not overwhelming, so we generally pick lighter colors that show up easily on darker backgrounds.

I like the implications of Kristen's observations about color.

First, deep contrast helps makes the map clearer. Which is true of emotion. Ever meet someone who has a rain cloud following them around...or how about that I'm-so-happy-I-make-puppies-throw-up person. There's a lack of perspective when our emotions are only dark or only light. We see life clearer when we experience both sides of the spectrum. I think the Psalms are a good biblical example of this. There are expressions of both deep despair and incandescent joy.

Second, Kristen made the comment that "everything looks better on gray." One of the great revelations of my twenties is that life is not black and white. I have yet to find a secret universal formula for any situation. The harder I look for definite answers, the more turmoil I experience. The more I'm okay with the mystery of life, the more peace I find.

May you have a colorful week!

Mapmaking: Layers and layers

Yesterday, I started a series on Map-making, based on Scott Peck's concept that throughout life we draw, erase, and re-draw maps of how we view life. To explore this concept in more depth, I've been grilling my friend Kristen on her job geo-processing (map-making).

Me: Okay, Kristen. What are some of the essential tools a mapmaker needs?

Kristen: Good data, good software, & good training. Other than that, the tools are mainly internal. Good spatial intelligence, creative problem solving, not being colorblind, etc.

Me: So if the tools are mainly internal, is it a group process at all? Or primarily based on individual creation?

Kristen: Map making is definitely a group effort! Maps take a lot of layers, even a simple map like the one below has six layers. We have 144 layers in our main database. 38 layers are static (require no editing), I maintain 82, but 24 are edited regularly by other county departments. Since those departments rely on those layers daily, it's best that they have control over the edits. We do have a certain amount of checks & balances since we're all looking at each others' data frequently and can easily tell each other about edits that need to be made.

Peck emphasizes the importance of community to maintain accurate maps of life. Often our own pain can distort our perception of the truth. By inviting others into our lives...allowing them to view our maps, we invite others to correct mistakes.

Actually, the city just put in a new light post on this corner...I know this because I live down the block.

I know you think you bore people, but remember the other day when you had a really good conversation with the girl who was new in Bible Study?

Letting people look at our maps takes courage. It's much safer to keep our maps to ourselves, peaking for direction when no one else is looking. But, we run the greater risk of using a guide that is outdated and inaccurate.

Peck makes a final brilliant observation about lies and the map-making process. He explains that it may be easy for us to show people only particular sections of the map--the sections we know are up-to-date and won't evoke correction. But when it comes to the areas we are unsure about, we cover them in shame.

Are you inviting others to look at your map? Are there some areas of your map that you feel are more difficult to show others? What are they? Why is it more difficult?

Mapmakers: Let the Journey Begin!

Psychologist, Scott Peck, uses the analogy of "The Outdated Map" to describe why a lot of us struggle through life. He explains that as we grow and develop we each construct maps in our minds of how the world works: If I smile at my neighbor, I most likely will make a new friend. When I finish my homework, I get good grades.

For the most part our maps will take honest and true form and help us navigate decisions and relationships. But, sometimes negative experiences begin to form our maps with distorted perceptions of what is real: I will only get hurt if I take risks to love my friends. The only way I can find success in my career is to be flawless.

Or the landscape changes, but our map stays the same. Peck writes that we can form a "set of ways of perceiving and responding to the world which is developed in childhood and which is usually entirely appropriate to the childhood environment (indeed, often life-saving), but which is inappropriately transferred into the adult environment."

I'm starting a mini-blog series (I think it will last the rest of the week) about the maps of our lives and how they become distorted and ways that we make them right.

Luckily for me--and luckily for you--I have a friend who makes maps for a living, and has been answering my crazy questions about "geoprocessing." I think this should be fun--let the journey begin!

Expecting Good...About Others

Sunday I was sitting at Starbucks with my friend Kristen,

"I had this epiphany during church this morning."

Kristen smiles and nods. (I always have "epiphanies.")

"No really," I continue. "I was thinking about how I judge people pretty quickly and decide if I think they're a jerk. If I do think they're a jerk, I usually write them off and have no shame in making their life crappy."

I thought about the night before and shameless comments I had made to a guy I felt was a little too into himself.

"But, this morning...I felt like God said to me, 'I WANT TO RESTORE THEM TOO, TIFF.' And so I'm convicted to hope for the best in even people I think are inherently jerks."

Yesterday, I read Donald Miller's blog "The Stuff of Good Friendship." He talked about not judging people and hoping the best for them.

Ever notice how God repeats the messages he REALLY wants us to get?

So, I'm taking Miller's challenge. This month I'm trying to think the best of people. Instead of mentally writing them off, I'm going to ask God to show me the possibilities for that person and look for ways to encourage.

In the process, I'm suspicious that God is making ME less of an inherent jerk.

Peace, friends.

Choosing to Love

My friend's brother recently broke up with the girl he thought was 'the one.' She said he's devastated and calls my friend all of the time to try to figure out ways he can get his ex- back.

I empathize with him and think of the look I get from friends when I start talking about 'that guy' ...again. The look where she listens but secretly wants to punch me in the face for not getting over it. (I have violent friends.)

Relationships can drive us to obsession when we feel we're in control. What if I did this? Would that change the way my child/lover/friend responded to me?

In the Old Testament, God asks Abraham to offer his new son, Isaac, as a burnt sacrifice. So, Abraham climbs to the top of a mountain and prepares to plunge a knife in his young child who asks, "But, dad? Where's the lamb?"

And readers everywhere scream, "What the crap-kind-of-story is this?!"

But lately, I've been realizing that it's a brilliant-kind-of-story story. It teaches us the appropriate way to approach relationship.

Without clinging.

Without obsession.

Without control.
In fact, an important aspect of relationship is allowing the other to move with free will--whether toward or away from us. That's why it's so beautiful when people actually choose to move toward one another.

And though it's difficult to let someone move away from us, clinging only suffocates. Think of the mom who hyper-manages her child, or the friend who becomes irate when you do not respond in the way they want.

When one ceases to be able to choose, they cease to be able to love. The relationship becomes ugly.

Thus, Abraham trusted God enough to sacrifice his son. A God who, in His goodness, spared Isaac by providing a lamb at the last minute. Who, in His goodness, provided a lamb for all of us that we may live in abundant love.

"The Children's Song" - Josh Garrels from Josh Garrels on Vimeo.

Down on my knees

Praying please, have mercy now

Christ my shelter, in a world that tries to drag me down.

Open your mind.

Open your heart.

Open up your soul.

Jesus come in,

and make a broken man whole.

Carried the cross.

Carried the pain.

Carried the love.

We don’t belong here,

but to the Father above.

Jesus in heaven and

Jesus in hell below.

Paid for our sin,

broken body with the red blood flow.

Rise up in glory,

raise your hands to the risen King.

He’s God almighty, listen to his children sing.

Let em sing.

Hallelujah to our King.

Hallelujah, ruler over everything.

The children sing.

Hallelujah to our King.

Hallelujah, ruler over everything.

In this world you will have trouble.

But Jesus overcame the world.

And our body is His Temple.

And we will worship forever more.

Discipline and Merry-go-rounds

In fourth grade, I was grounded for pushing Jody Foster off the merry-go-round. My best friend and I were the top-dogs in the popular girls' circle, and Jody wanted to play with us...so we devised a game where she would run toward the merry-go-round and we would keep her off. The game ended at a massive size of about 20 girls pushing Jody off and her landing in a mud puddle. (That's the cliff notes version.)

This story is not one of my bright shining moments.

But it was formative.

What formed me, however, was my parents' response to the incident. I remember the look of saddness (worse than disappointment) on their faces as they read the note sent home by the principal--followed by a pain-staking 24 hours of deciding on an appropriate punishment, which included a consultation with my teacher, Mrs. Nicholaus.

For two, long weeks I came home from school grabbed a snack and went directly to my parents' room. I sat there until dinner, ate with the family, and returned to their room until bed time.

I remember feeling like a martyr because of the 20 girls in my class...I was the ONLY one whose parents decided to discipline.

Discipline.

I read this morning in a psychology book that discipline explores "our capacity to do the unnatural, to transcend and hence transform our own nature."

It's funny at the time, I felt like a martyr...but now I feel blessed that my parents recognized the importance of transcending my own nature. It's natural to feel self-important and to destroy others. Two weeks of solitary confinement taught me to do the unnatural--show compassion and give myself for others.

"Besides this, we have had earthly fathers who disciplined us and we respected them. Shall we not much more be subject to the Father of spirits and live? For they disciplined us for a short time as it seemed best to them, but he disciplines us for our good, that we may share his holiness. For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it." (Hebrews 12:9-11)

My nephew is cute!

Check out new 6 mo. pictures of Liam.

Liam-6 mos.

The Shivering Girl

Last August, my friend Meg took me to the Getty Art Museum in L.A. I found myself strangely captivated by a statue entitled, "Winter: The Shivering Girl" by Jean-Antoine Houdon. In his piece, Houdon portrays the season of winter as a young woman clinging to a shawl that only covers her upper-body...leaving her exposed in a way that is profound, painful, saddening.

Staring at her vulnerability in the museum, I had the urge to find her cover. (Note: Art connoisseurs do not respond well to crazy girls, "Sir? Do you happen to have a spare pair of pants for this naked statue? She looks cold.")

The image of 'The Shivering Girl' has been on my mind since my visit to the Getty. The statue reminds me of struggling friends... and of myself. There's a tragedy to her exposure. Though she clings to cover, she can't control her vulnerability.

I'm reminded of my home church and the man next to his wife suffering from MS, or the middle aged couple raising their grandchild, or the wife who sat alone in worship...while the whole congregation knew her husband sat at home. And they can't control their vulnerability. The rest of us blindly have pity on them--denying our own nakedness.

Yet, 'The Shivering Girl' is the rest of us...

who think we've fooled people with our empty smiles and strained greetings...

who try to hide our pain and brokenness with a small shawl.

I think John understood how destructive it is to cling to covering and deny our nakedness. There's healing when brokenness comes to the light:

"God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with him yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live by the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin. If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness."

Racism is Fishy...er...anti-fishy.

In my post yesterday, I started by saying I feel silly posting about racism. But after writing my last post, I started thinking of other examples of how racism shows up in the church...

And also examples of how scripture teaches us to fight racism.

Last December, my church decided to call a full-time Spanish-speaking pastor to start a Hispanic ministry in our community.

There seemed to be a lot of excitement surrounding the decision but also some fear. I had a sincere conversation with one of our elders who felt hesitation over how the church would respond to potential new members who were in the States without required documentation. A few months later, I heard about another member of the congregation who leaves the sanctuary when our worship director begins leading us in Spanish praises.

I primarily default to the following question: Of which kingdom am I a citizen? The kingdom of America? Or the Kingdom of Heaven?

When church authorities asked Jesus about paying taxes he responded in wisdom, "Render Caesar what is Caesar's." Then he moved on.

After the triumphal entry, Jesus grieved those who thought he had come for political revolution.

The same political revolution that Luke purposefully denies in his gospel and the book of Acts.

On Pentecost, the Holy Spirit moves the disciples to speak in numerous tongues--allowing the gospel to be understood by those whose earthly citizenship spanned the Middle East.

First Century Rome seems like a pretty ideal setting for Jesus to make a nationalistic statement...a final vindication for the Jews.

But he doesn't. Instead he makes this statement, "The kingdom of heaven is like a net that was let down into the lake and caught all kinds of fish."

Mocking the Germans

I feel silly writing a post against racism. In the back of my mind, I hear a voice saying..."I think that ceased to be a problem in the 1970's."

Or did it?

A couple of weeks ago, I was chatting with the 5/6th graders at my church. I find working with kids fascinating becuase you get a front seat into the messages they are hearing from adults at home and school.

I asked the girls to imagine 'the most evil people in the whole world' filling the sanctuary that we sat in. "Who are some of those people?" Responses: Obama (this IS Nebraska), and People from Pakistan.

Stop.

Does this disturb you? It does me. Instead of thinking about injustices like rape, abuse, exploitation...or heck even terrorism (which is evil). They responded by identifying an ENTIRE cultural group.

About a week after 9/11, my dad was grabbing a drink in Lincoln. If you've seen my dad, the next part of the story won't surprise you. He has naturally deep-toned skin (darkened by days in the field), his hair is black and his eyes nearly match. As he finished his drink a couple of guys at a table nearby started yelling at him and making racist remarks...assuming he was from the Middle East.

The irony of the situation is that my dad is one of the rare people in the American mixing pot with a pure heritage--but he's German. All eight of my dad's great-grandparents immigrated to America from Germany.

Which makes the group at the bar seem pretty foolish. And assumptions about the character or values of an individual based completely on their cultural identity (or apparent cultural identity) are pretty foolish.

And they are wrong.

Jesus made this point when he told the disciples the story of the Good Samaritan. He knew that racism and cultural self-righteousness was prevalent in the Jewish nation. So he told the story of a man from the "wrong" cultural group displaying greater compassion/righteousness than the most pure of the "right" cultural group.

And Jesus asked, "Which of these three do you think proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell into the robbers' {hands}?" And he said, "The one who showed mercy toward him." Then Jesus said to him, "Go and do the same."

Yay for Moms!

Q & A from StoryCorps on Vimeo.

Time to Post

My freshman year of college I created a grid on a marker board scheduling my day in 15 min. increments.

1:30-2:45 "Class"
2:45-3:00 "Walking/Check Mail"
3:00-4:15 "Study for History Exam"
4:15-4:30 "Nap"

Sadly enough, I'm not making this stuff up. Ask my friend Duncan who mocked my schedule every time she would mozie into my dorm room to see if I wanted to play Donkey Kong on her old school Nintendo. "I just don't know if I have time, Duncan. Maybe I can fit you in after dinner...like 6:45-7:00."

Eight years later, I feel more at peace in God's rhythm.

However, I forget how much my life is STILL bombarded with messages to fill, fill, fill, and not to rest. We really have to fight for presence.

What is the impact of financial terminology on Christianity? from All Things Converge on Vimeo.

Am I Smarter Than a Fifth Grader? Thoughts on Dating.

I mentor a fifth grader named Becca. We eat lunch together every Tuesday. Some times we play Guess Who, and I kick her butt. Some times we play Mancala, and she kicks my butt. Other times we walk around the playground and talk in British accents...but every time I learn something from Becca.



I also know Becca from church. About a month ago, Becca and I were walking past a fairly attractive single man (whom I'm pretty sure BECCA has a crush on), when suddenly Becca pushed me into him and demanded, "Tell him what you said about him." Red-faced, I reeled to figure out what she was talking about and muttered something unintelligble before returning to her--not so amused.



The next week, over lunch, Becca kept talking about how nice Mr. Butler was. Later on the playground, Becca asked nicely, "I want you to meet Mr. Butler."



"Why do you want me to meet Mr. Butler?" My brow furrowed. (Note: Becca is sneaky.)



"Just come on!" she impatiently grabbed my arm and led me about two feet from Mr. Butler before turning a quick 180 and abandoning me, "I'm going to go find Hayley!"



Again, awkward and red-faced, I thought, "What a sweet child."



And I also heard Jeff Foxworthy asking me, "Are you smarter than a fifth grader?"



...Probably not.



The truth is I'm afraid to engage in relationships because I've been rejected and hurt before. And it's easy to slip into self-preservation mode. My friend Sara called the other night. As we talked about how difficult it was to be vulnerable with guys, Sara concluded, "I guess it's better than our other option...being alone." We sat in silence for a few seconds letting the truth sink in. Then we laughed at the simplicity of her realization.



I love working with kids because they have few inhibitions--and they remind me that every day is NEW. Kids take risks...



Risks that grown-ups should still be taking.



"Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins." -1 Peter 4:8

God loves Russian Orphans like me?

Liam fell asleep mid-giggle and snuggled into my armpit this morning. As I listened to NPR, the following story brought me to tears: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=126069646

A 7-year old Russian boy was sent alone on a plane to return to the orphanage his Tennessee mother had adopted him from with the following note attached, "I no longer wish to parent this child."

I couldn't blame the emotional outburst on hormones; and just felt silly sitting alone in my sister's living room, holding my nephew, weeping. I mean I love everything about this kid. I love how he raises one eyebrow as he unintelligibly tells me something REALLY important and then breaks out in a huge smile. I even love when I find his dirty diapers under the seat of my car a few days too late.

Deep inside, I think something breaks inside all of us when we hear a story like this. Our souls know that EVERY CHILD SHOULD BE LOVED. Rejected children are a painful reminder of our fallen world--there's something so wrong about it that we can't help but cry. One of the beautiful things about living for the Kingdom is working toward the unconditional, forever adoption of the orphan.

But I think we weep also because part of us relates to the Russian orphan. The tears form when we recall a moment in our lives when someone placed US on a plane for Russia with a note: 'I no longer love her. She's loud and talks too much.'

One semester in college, my friend Cree relentlessly called me EVERY day and said, "Tiffy. God loves you." Sometimes that was all she would say before hanging up.

And it was annoying.

I mean, who was Cree to tell ME that God loved me. I was leading Bible Study at the time and preparing to co-lead a team of 15 for Campus Crusade to Mexico that summer. Of course I knew God loved me!

But I didn't...not really.

Pain and rejection complicate things. They try to convince us that when people forsake us or find us un-lovely that God also feels this way. That maybe something about us needs to change. Maybe we need to DO certain things to stay love-able.

But that's not how God works. He loves us as much as I love my nephew; and He weeps every time one of us gets sent back to Russia with a note saying we are no longer love-able.

He weeps because it's not true and He wants the orphan in all of us to know it.

I remember the exact moment...a year later, when I really FELT like God loved me.

(ring ring ring)

"Hello? God loves YOU." Do you believe it?

What If?

Donald Miller recently issued the 'What If' challenge. Miller stated in his original post The Single Most Powerful Question You Can Ask that the most powerful question a person can ask is "What if..."

Stop. Read the above link. And return.

K. So here's my list of five Tiffany 'What ifs?'

1. What if I actually put my family first?
2. What if I took an art class, like I've been wanting to since college?
3. What if I asked Angela for coffee instead of just thinking I wanted to do that...eventually?
4. What if I just admit that I'm afraid to be in a relationship?
5. What if I wrote a book?

Now your turn.

I know a lot of you are reading (because you tell me you are) but not commenting...

BUT I want to REALLY engage you with this one. Take a few minutes. What are YOUR five 'What if' questions?

Cheese-Smothered Aquafina Bottles

While running past the college this morning, I noticed (on the neatly trimmed grass) an empty Aquafina bottle, smothered in cheese sauce, next to a beer can. And it was lovely.

…

So, I stopped and gazed at it in wonder.

…

Not really. Though I appreciated the randomness, it was pretty gross.

So, today, I’m running, and I’m thinking about how not even something as ugly as a cheese-smothered water bottle can distract me from the beauty of the daffodils that are springing up EVERYWHERE, or the bright feathers of the ducks waddling around Heartwell Park, or even the way the sun feels on my skin after enduring the winter.

And I’m reminded of how God lets ugly co-exist with beauty. And then I wonder why…

After God destroyed creation in the flood, He made a promise to the earth. “Whenever I bring clouds over the earth and the rainbow appears in the clouds, I will remember my covenant between me and you and all living creatures of every kind. Never again will the waters become a flood to destroy all life.”

And I remember that ugly co-exists with beauty…because God is merciful.

He doesn’t just let them co-exist in creation, but also in people. It’s one of those annoying things we never seem to grasp. “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do…”

But that has incredible implications, “But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

We instinctively look for the beautiful in creation. People spend evenings watching sunsets…not dumpsters. I did NOT stop to gaze at the cheese-smothered water bottle.

But we struggle to do the same with people. We kind of like to stop and gape at the cheese-smothered water bottles in the lives of others. Isn’t that strange?

...and ugly? And it fuels our own insecurities, because we don’t want others to see our own trash.

Jesus showed us a better way. That's what Paul is saying in Romans 7. Where sin increases, we have opportunities to see how cool grace is. God chose not to destroy humanity, but showed mercy and sent Jesus instead.

God is merciful.


(This rainbow was so ridiculous, I made my roommate late to Bible Study on Tuesday.)

Bonding-A Guest Post from Grandpa

I'm so excited about this post! My grandpa has been working on writing the stories of his life. Yesterday he showed me the following story, which I asked if I could share on my blog:

The Heidtbrink family had traveled north from Gesham, NE, 600 miles to visit us in Clearbrook, MN. The day one big event was Tiffany falling & sustaining a nasty gash on her cheek. Our daughter Doris, Tiffy’s mother, had taken her to the Doctor for repair and was now getting her ready for bed.




It is important to note here that up to this point Tiffany had mastered Da Da & Ma Ma, not a very impressive vocabulary but extremely important.


I was standing by the bed looking at Tiffany’s wounded cheek when she opened her eyes and for the first time ever said, “Hi Grandpa.”

Life is composed of moments, each one an opportunity to add special colorful memories that bond us to each other, in this case the simple “Hi, Grandpa” became the bud that continues to blossom for Tiffany and me. This kind of bonding is available to all whom in childlike openness reach out to each other & let it happen.




One time Jesus asked His Disciples point blank Matthew 16:15-16 Who do you say that I am?" Simon Peter answered, "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God." Peter thought he loved Jesus, but, a short time later, he denied even knowing the Lord.




Then just before Jesus ascended to the Father, John 21:15 (NASB) ---, Jesus said* to Simon Peter, "Simon, son of John, do you love Me more than these?" and repeated it, each time Peter responded I’m your friend. A 3rd time Jesus said, “Are you really my friend,” and Peter grieved in his spirit replied, “Lord you know I am your friend.”




Peter never forgot that simple, honest loving, “Lord, you know I’m your friend.” the bud blossomed & from that day on Peter’s love never flagged even when, because of his love for Jesus, they were impaling him upside down on a cross.

(Grandpa with my nephew Liam.)

Baptist kids don't grow up attending Tenebrae services, but the last two years I've joined my friend Darci at her Methodist church on Maundy Thursday.

This year the significance of what we celebrated struck a little deeper, and largely due to the theme of this blog.

During the service, I thought a lot about the experience of the disciples. Some say the followers of Jesus hoped for political revolution. Others could taste the sweetness of spiritual reform. Either way, the excitement rose as the Messiah rode into Jerusalem on a donkey and people waved palm branches shouting "Hosanna."

And I feel giddy with them that FINALLY their expectations will be realized.

But then, Jesus replied, "The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds."

Pause.

Did He just say He was going to die?

Looking at the crucifixion from the perspective of unrealized expectations, I feel the pain more deeply. I no longer only see my friend dying on a cross--but also my hopes, dreams, and expectations. I suddenly feel foolish for wanting the world to be a better place, or giving someone a second chance. I begin to wish I hadn't taken risks or spoken so boldly, because it seems that things will end up

just

as

they

have

always

been...

We already know the ending. The disciples' ideas did not compare to the plans of God. Jesus had spoken to them about the future. He had tried to comfort them with the promise of Sunday.

I love this about God.

I have some pretty good dreams. And when they begin to crumble...I don't need to feel foolish.

Instead I wait...

Instead I hope...

for something BETTER!

Happy Easter, friends.

Champagne for Breakfast

I hit my snooze too many times this morning. I usually try to wake up early enough to get at least 30 min. of quiet time in. But many mornings (like today), I end up hitting the snooze, and squeezing in a quick 5 min. "Yay God" moment before grabbing my coffee and heading to work.

Today it felt irresponsible. I'm not talking about legalistic guilt, but honest regret that I didn't give Him more of my time this morning.

Here's the deal. This weekend I'm going to celebrate THE most significant spiritual event in history. Hebrews refers to Jesus's life, death, and resurrection as "the culmination of the ages." The resurrection embodies hope! We have victory! We get second chances...and third chances, and fourth! The ugliness of our humanity no longer dominates the picture, because of Easter!

Yet somehow, every year, Easter seems to kind of sneak up on me. And I feel regret.

It's the same feeling I get when I look at the calendar and realize my mom's birthday is in a few days. I quick call my two older sisters (we don't ask my younger sister...because she will have had something thoughtful picked out for at least a month by now) to see what we can throw together and mail--if there's time--or deliver that will show we care. But deep down inside I feel like she deserves better. I feel like my gift does not display the magnitude of my love for her. And that's how I usually feel about Easter.

I'll enjoy the church service, time with family, and nice weather. But deep down inside I feel like Jesus deserves better. I feel like my lack of thought doesn't display the magnitude of my love for Him.

My friend Ruth was telling me last night that NT Wright says we should drink chapagne for breakfast on Easter. Which seems like a better option than hitting 'snooze'.

He is risen.

Excerpt from My 5th Grade Sunday School Class

Tiffany: So, this week is holy week, right?
(Confused looks from children raised in the Evangelical Church.)
Tiffany: I mean we don't call it that very often here at E-Free... But we're celebrating what this week?
Sarah: Jesus' death.
Carie: Yeah, Jesus was crucified next to two guys. One wanted to be with Jesus after they died, the other one made fun of him...then a bird came and pecked his eyes out!
Tiffany: Did you watch The Passion, Carie?
Carie: Yeah. I love that movie!
Tiffany: Well, I don't know if the bird was in the Bible. But,...
Sarah: In our big group time, it was kind of weird how they just said "Judas died," but didn't explain how he died.
Tiffany: Well...I guess they were just lookin' out for the second graders, Sarah. Maybe a little too gruesome for them?
Caitlyn: Guess what, Tiffany? The word "cross" is in my Bible FIVE times (Caitlyn's looking in the concordance--a seemingly incomplete concordance).
Tiffany: So, what day do we celebrate Jesus dying on the cross?
Carie: Good Friday.
Sarah: And then He rose from the dead on Sunday.
Carie: Why do we call it 'Good' Friday? That's weird.
Sarah: I know...I mean He died that day.
Caitlyn: But He died for our sins...that's why it's good.
Tiffany: I've always thought that was weird too, Carie.
Carie: We should call it Sad Friday!
Tiffany: And Happy Sunday?
Carie: (Smiles).
Tiffany: I agree.
The Apostle Paul: If we have been united with him in a death like his, we will certainly also be united with him in a resurrection like his. For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin--because who has died has been set free from sin. Now if we died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him. For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him. The death he died, he died to sin once for all; but the life he lives, he lives to God (Romans 6).

The Source of My Expectations

I've been sick the last few days. So, I was half-aware while reading more of NT Wright's book, "Surprised by Hope" on Tuesday. I'm not sure if my following thoughts accurately follow what Wright was saying...but I'm curious as to some of you people's thoughts. (So, some of you people should comment.)

Wright writes (HA!) that the foundation of our hope is in the resurrection of Jesus Christ. His thesis is that the resurrection is WAY cooler than we give it credit in the western, modern church. Agreed.

This is the part that may have been the delirium more than the actual text: but one thing that often robs the resurrection of its power is our belief in human effort. I felt like Wright was calling out even those who view social activism as the answer for the problems of the world.

Which is kind of disrupting for me, because I love social activism.

But, I also want to be formed not to form. So, I'm chewing on this one. I think the church needs to give more money to the poor, that we need to redefine our perception of 'justice,' and that we need to seek restoration.

But, how much emphasis do I put on the human side of that effort? Does this rob my focus from His redemptive power? Am I wasting time and effort, impatiently trying to change circumstances He is patient with? Why don't I pray more often for my friends and community?

Comment please...

God Loves Trashy Art

Scott Oliver created "The Valley" (pictured below) using a rotting arm chair from a salvage yard.

Oliver's piece was one of many among the 2009 SMART Art Competition, showcasing artists who choose trash as their primary medium.

I've been thinking about art created with trash...

God is like the ULTIMATE Trash Artist.

Let's revisit Noah's story for an example.

There's a connection between the language used in the creation story (Genesis 1) and the language used to describe the flood (Genesis 6-8). It's as if the author of Genesis wants to emphasize that God revisited creation during the flood. He re-created the world.

Having recreated the world, God gives Noah a promise for the future.

He starts (8:21), "I will never again curse the ground because of man, for the intention of man's heart is evil from his youth..." And He finishes (9:15) "...And the waters shall never again become a flood to destroy all flesh."

Basically God is saying, 'I know you're imperfect. I destroyed the imperfections once, and that was enough. Now I will work with who you are." Here at the beginning of the Bible, God claims the title of ULTIMATE Trash Artist. Instead of destroying trash, He will recreate once, then make art!

God recreated me once through Christ. My sin was destroyed on the cross. I am still sinful and my heart seems prone to imperfection. But Christ recreated me, and now God chooses to make art...He no longer desires to destroy.

If Scott Oliver can use a rotting arm chair to paint a breath-taking landscape; what can God do with your life? When others think I look like a rusty old snow shovel, God sees music.

What are our expectations?

My friend Keturah asked me recently what I meant by an 'Expectation of Good.' She asked with the understanding that what we view as good...may in fact not be good. As a toddler, my sister Amanda wanted to look just like Boy George. She thought that would be 'good.' My mom had the wisdom to encourage her in more fashion saavy directions, that were in fact good. We may want a job or relationship to work thinking it would be good. But God often says 'no' because He knows it is not good.

So in light of my blog's title, what is this good that we are expecting?

I initially responded to Keturah that I think expecting good mainly rests on our perception of God's character. One of my fifth grade Sunday School girls said she sometimes views God as a strict teacher.

I admit that most of my life, I lived with the same perception. I imagined God sitting in heaven blessing the perfect and cursing the corrupt. Unfortunately, that meant that my discontentment must be a result of my imperfections.

But, note popular memory verse Matthew 7:11 "If you then, being evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give what is good to those who ask Him!"

God is good. So we expect good...from Him.

I also read this quote from NT Wright in Surprised by Hope (see previous post 'Resurrected Crazy'), "Hope for the Christian is not wishful thinking or mere blind optimism. It is a mode of knowing, a mode within which new things are possible, options are not shut down, new creation can happen."

I like Wright's definition. Expecting good means viewing God as One whose character is so founded on resurrection, restoration, reconciliation...that we can honestly and realistically trust in those concepts for our life.