hell who?

You hear about the fear of hell kind of off and on in Christian circles.

I read an article months about wherein one of the pastors at a church out west was sharing how he came to "salvation." He commented that, "fear is a perfectly legitimate way to enter the kingdom of God." I remember thinking that's probably true.

Last night during the midweek sermon, Pastor was talking about that battle people go through at the point of making a decision to follow Christ. On the one hand are lots of things: your friends think you're an idiot; you have to change things about your life; your mum will think you've joined the IRA (I didn't have that problem myself). On the other hand was one thing: you could go to hell. I remember wondering what that balance would look like.

This morning I read this. I imagine the "perceived immediate benefit" is either a prosperity gospel or the avoidance of hell.

Before I said Yes to Holy Spirit's nagging, I didn't believe in hell. Christians could read scripture and "testimonies" of hell until they were blue in the face and I'd still curse God just to prove it didn't bother me. You can't really scare someone about something they don't believe in.

So I started to think about that period of a few months leading up to my rebirth. If it wasn't the fear of eternal damnation, what was it?

Aside from the obvious-to-the-Christians answers like hearing the word of God via CDs this weird guy kept bringing me, and abundant prayer being offered up on my behalf, do you know what it was?

The Passion of the Christ.

Seriously. Yes, the Mel Gibson movie. My mom and I went with said weird guy and his weird church to a screening in Crystal Lake, and I left the theater with this weighty decision on my mind (spirit). I couldn't care less about hell, but I needed to know if what I saw in that movie was true. It was suddenly so grave.

I didn't even realize what I was going through until about a week later at a show at my favorite punk house. I wasn't drinking, which sparked a conversation. This one particular guy - whom everyone very much admired - was running through every anti-woman thing he knew about Christianity and the Bible. About the time he got to "Did you know the Bible says that women aren't supposed to talk in church?" I realized my dilemma.

"That's not it, Eric. I'm not trying to decide whether or not I agree with it, it's whether or not it's true."

If it was true, then I was wrong and I could fix that. It would be painful, but not as painful as what I'd seen. If that Man really did take my place then I owed Him something.

Maybe I'm the only one who finds this interesting - or maybe you love someone who doesn't care about threats of hell. Here's my advice: Truth sets people free, not fear.

pursue Me

I sat on stage last Friday night violently aware of the lights on my face. With my head down just so the short bill on my hat would cast a shadow, but somehow I still felt the cold lights on my eyelids. Because maybe if I didn't look at them they'd just go away.

Three quarters of the way through our worship time I didn't feel God; I felt boredom. I'm tired of boredom. I'm tired of every worship song being the same, every worship set being the same, every Friday night and Sunday morning being the same. I'm ready for the next thing. I'm ready for more. Lord, what am I doing wrong that we're stuck in this place?

Pursue Me.

It wasn't a command, just a gentle suggestion whispered quietly within my spirit.

Pursue Me.

So I gave it voice. The more I spoke it, the louder it grew inside me. I don't know if I was talking to the students or just to myself, but it got louder and louder and not urgent - but desperate? At some point in my spontaneous discourse Pursue Me went from a suggestion to a plea.

Pursue Me. Not because I need you to, but because you need you to. You need to. There is nothing out there for you. The world has nothing for you. Pursue Me. I'm not easy. I am not cheap. I am not simple or quick because I am not of the world. Pursue Me. I give you rest. I am your peace. I go before you. I am your breath. I am your heartbeat. I am your romance, your fantasy, and your adventure. I AM. Pursue Me. Pursue Me. Pursue Me.

who loves you?

This is completely dangerous. Bad idea.

I'm so not a Star Wars fan, but I want one of these. I don't know what I'd do with it, but come on.

This is a strange, kind of sad story about an autistic teenager vs. his local church. I'm sure that's a difficult situation, but a restraining order may not be the most Christlike way to go about it.

And if you're looking for some outside-the-box art, here you go. Kind of weird, but really stinkin' clever.

Oh, and Facebook may take on a new ... um ... face soon. Not sure how I feel about this. You?

Finally, I need your opinion on these (the teenagers especially). This is a business-card size advertisement that I designed for something going down at Larkin that CITW was cool enough to buy us ad space for. Did I mention they're business-card size? I was thinking about getting some glossies printed. Do we like them? Would you use them to hand out?

twitter

Twitter is getting weird on me.

I downloaded an application on my computers at work and home called TwitterFox (for FireFox users). It's an AIM application for Twitter, basically. Every time someone that I'm following posts something it pops up in a small box in the lower right-hand corner of my browser for about five seconds.

On the one hand it's reminding me how personal it can be.

A couple days ago the ninja from Ask a Ninja twittered about someone he knows who came home from work and found his wife ... um ... deceased. He, of course, linked to the guy's twitter page where you could read hourly updates on the tragedy. He also posted a link to a website that was being used to collect donations for the guy and his family. I don't know this man, but I was heart-broken for him.

On the other hand, it's been flexing it's muscles.

I knew it was good when they automated the cell phone thing. (Text "follow switchstudents" to 40404 and you'll get live updates and reminders from Switch.) It's getting intense, though.

A college student used Twitter to free himself from an Egyptian prison. Seriously.

I also read some article yesterday (in passing, and I can't find it now) about Twitter's resourcefulness in the face of natural disasters. Like the CA fires last year. Major news outlets were reporting on what towns were in danger, but people needed to know which neighborhoods were at risk. Two guys in CA set up a Twitter page that was quickly picked up, whereby they posted moment-to-moment updates. I've heard similar stories coming from westerners in Burma.

I also found WeTheChurch. It's a website to log prayer requests and testimonies for the Church, but they've also set up a Twitter account. Every 15 to 20 minutes a request and/or a report from the website pop up in my window. And yes, I've prayed for a couple of 'em.

I'm just realizing how strange, and how leveling it really is. I get updates from witty stay-at-home moms, an NBC camera guy, a woman who carpools with strangers every day, the CEO of Thomas Nelson Publishing, and a bulldog (although the bulldog hasn't updated in months).

So if you're not twittering yet, get on the bandwagon. It's occasionally creepy, but if you're ever in a jam (or a middle-eastern penitentiary) you'll thank me. Let me know you're on and I'll make you one of my tweeple.

narnia

Timothy and I went to see Prince Caspian Friday night after Switch. (10:40 PM in LITH)

I'm not a C.S. Lewis purist. I only ever read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. I can't make the kind of scathing critique that others may have to offer. Suffice to say I liked it.

Well, I liked it until the end.

So far, both of the Narnia movies have left me a little depressed. After this stunning adventure we always end up back in England. It's like ending on a Monday every time. Eugh.

The rest of it I liked.

They did a good job, again, of representing Christ in Aslan. You don't see him very much in this movie, but the promise of his coming is always at hand.

At one point, the youngest, Lucy, thinks she sees him in the forest and tries to convince the others that Aslan wants them to follow him. They don't listen because they didn't see him for themselves. Toward the end, Lucy finally finds him and explains that she knew he was there, but the other's didn't believe her. To which Aslan replies, "Why would that stop you from coming to me?"

My favorite part was the end. Aslan doesn't really show up until the crucial moment. Most of the time, the main characters have to fight some pretty ugly battles on their own. One mistake leads to a really devastating end, and all the time the Narnians who weren't around 1300 years ago are doubting whether Aslan will come back to help them at all.

The three older siblings (who are doing the actual warring) and Prince Caspian don't meet Aslan until the whole thing is over. They haven't said a word to him, but at the end of the final battle, they all walk up to him and simply kneel.

I think I held my breath when it happened. And maybe I'm doing that thing where I get too wrapped up in movies, or maybe this is still working through me, but that was a wonderfully symbolic moment.

That was the moment when you've fought the good fight, when having done all, you stood. That was the moment you came through to victory at the hand of last-minute grace. It was the moment when you're not only exhausted, but emotionally wounded, when accusations start flying through your mind. "Where have You been? Didn't You see? Didn't You know? Why didn't you come sooner? So many died and you didn't come. We fought and we fought and You didn't come!"

But if your heart is right it's also the moment when you realize that despite your best efforts you would have lost in the end had He not come. It's also the moment when you remember that if He delayed, He delayed for a reason. That no matter what it looks like, He's always right. And despite the accusations, and despite your hurting heart, you kneel because He is the good King.

sponsors wanted

I'm looking for a few good sponsors.

For me.

Just in general.

Alright here's the thing: I've got stuff to do. Seriously.

I've got a zine that is just waiting to salt the underground punk rock sub-culture. The few issues I've gotten out in the past three years have really stirred up some people who really need Christ. This thing is supposed to be quarterly, but I'm struggling to get it out annually. No way to build a readership, let alone break into a really, really dark scene.

I've got student ministry ideas that just need some time to see the light of day. I want to take teenagers on month-long missions trips. I want to do before-school prayer groups. I've got student ministry ideas that I haven't even had time to just sit and think on long enough to let them mature. Like a Home Ec-style small group for the girls that will help them become amazing women of God, and prepare them to be wives in a society that hates Godly wives. What could that do?

I've got ideas for books that might yield a good return on your investment, and I've got articles that might help wake up some of Relevant Magazine's target market segment.

I'm convinced I could write music if I just had the time.

And honestly I'd like to have a little time to keep my house clean and keep a veggie garden. I'm sure I'm going to have to add motherhood to my list of things to do in the semi-near-future (no, I am not pregnant).

I just don't have time to sit in an office for nine hours a day, five days a week. There's too much to do. So I'm looking for sponsors ... just for me ... in general. I think, right now, I'm game for anything as low as $20,000/year because I'm sure some of the stuff I want to do will generate a bit of income as well. We can even work out some sort of deal if you want a percentage of that as your ROI.

So if you're interested, leave me a note in the comments and I'll get in touch. Sound good? Thanks.

updates from the homeowners

We're doing well and having a great time. Some exciting homeowner firsts:

Timothy mowed the lawn for the first time last weekend. It looks wonderful. At one point he thinks (now) that he put too much oil in the lawn mower, though, because at a certain angle it would presumably overflow onto the engine and emit really big, really thick billows of white smoke. The neighbor thought it was hilarious.

We bought a kitchen table (a real one), and a bench to go with it. After we've weathered the first round of utility bills we'll probably go back for chairs, but the table and bench are gorgeous.

And I wrote a check for our first mortgage payment yesterday. That was less exciting than the other two.

We're totally in with the neighbors too - especially the teenagers. (You're not surprised?) Skateboards and four-square and a little bit of mutual respect is all it takes. It's strange sometimes because I'm so used to our teenagers at church, and these teenagers are different (for now). Like when Brenton's mom yelled at him to come home yesterday evening and he yelled back, "I'm right there!" Timothy told him a few times to listen to his parents and go home before Brenton seemed to realize he wasn't kidding.

So no, we don't really need any help with anything, but thanks for asking. And yes, we want to have you over but right now you have to wait for either (1) those chairs I mentioned, or (2) nicer weather so we can have an open house.

innocent Bible study

We've been confiscating most of the teenagers on the first two Sunday mornings of the month for a little Bible study in the café. We were motivated to so do after watching most of them sleep, doodle, or text through most Sunday mornings. It's been going well.

We're going through a book called Live Like a Jesus Freak. Each chapter focuses on a characteristic that needs to be brought to submission. "Love like a Jesus freak," "Worship like a Jesus Freak," etc. Last Sunday was "Stand like a Jesus freak."

Timothy read through the opening of the chapter until he came to a reference to Luke 6. He read the first verse of the passage and paused. It was one of those have-I-ever-read-that-verse? moments.

Luke 6:46/"But why do you call me 'Lord, Lord,' and not do the things which I say?"

That stings a little. I haven't called Him Lord since yesterday morning. We've talked, but I'm aware of that sore spot on my face and I keep calling Him anything else I can think of. Maybe it's petty, and I know He knows I'm trying (... but how hard am I trying? My alarm went off at 6 this morning and I rolled over and ignored it), but it hit me really hard. We're called to a life of discipleship and obedience, not to a prayer and a tub of water and grace to continue in compromise.


Then we watched a clip from Luther. The chapter used Luther as an example of "standing like a Jesus Freak," so I jumped on it (as I'm doing again right now) because - as my husband and kids will tell you - I'm in love with Luther. I think I've read Here I Stand three times and the movie is remarkably accurate.

Luther speaks to and inspires me. I watched a podcast last week of an interview with Rick Warren. He was talking about people being imperfect and made the comment that your mentor's should be alive, but your models should be dead. Luther is my model.

This is the scene we watched. This documents the moment when Martin Luther stood before the emperor, various cardinals of heavy influence, and many of the princes of the territories of Germany and answered for what he'd written. Recant and be forgiven, or stand and be burned.

reality

It's late, but I need to get this out of my head.

Timothy and I just watched a rather lengthy trailer for the The Lord of the Rings trilogy. We sat there and mused about how good the first one was and how we'd all but forgotten it over the last few years. By the time the third film is a hit it's easy to have forgotten how the first one inspired you.

We talked briefly about how the first of any series would be a natural candidate for the best of the series: the conflict is presented, tension mounts but is hardly resolved, characters are still relatively static, etc. There is still mystery. There's still fear. There's still hope, and there's still the unknown.

Mysterious scenes of something once forgotten that never should have been. The troubling revelation of the truth and what must be done. Clips of boldness in the face of despair, courage in the face of fear, hope in the face of sorrow. (All set to an emotionally wrenching score, of course.)

Several minutes into the trailer something began to stir inside of me. I'm not a nerd about The Lord of the Rings. That wasn't it. It was something familiar and as I listened to it instead of the symphony coming from the MacBook I recognized it.

It was the same thing I felt recently as I listened to Misty Edwards singing a song I've heard hundreds of times. "I can hear the rhythm of the Lion of the tribe of Judah ... I can hear the rhythm of the Lion of the tribe of Judah ..."

I was just driving a couple weeks ago and hadn't paid much attention to the rest of the song, but that line grabbed me suddenly and I thought about my King.

"I can hear the rhythm of the Lion of the tribe of Judah ..."

Every good King ever scripted was modeled after my King. Every righteous cause was modeled after His love for His bride and His people. Every story of good versus evil is His story; every battle scene is His battle; every hero is Him. There is nothing new under the sun because He is all there is.

Those stories are my reality. I am the woman in armor who does what no man could do on behalf of my King. I am the target of those motivating, pre-battle speeches. I am Jean d'Arc who pulls an arrow from her own chest and immediately returns to the battlefield. I am because He is.

My King is the one who was born to be King. My King is the Lion. My King is the One just and good, righteous and merciful, beginning and end.

Why don't we live this way? Why do my emotions respond to stories that are just lukewarm re-tellings of my own story? Why is the adventure so hard to maintain?

"I can hear the rhythm of the Lion of the tribe of Judah ..."

I like war movies. I thought everyone liked war movies until I overheard my husband and TK talking one day about how cool it is that I like war movies.

Saving Private Ryan is a good war movie. The premise is good. The action is good. The cinematography is good. The score is good. The characters are good - except that one. There is one character in that movie that I cannot stand, and it may just be because I get too involved in movies.

He's the small, skinny guy who gets brought along because he speaks German and he's good for something else. He's never been in combat before. He's a sissy. It's not his fault, but it's a fact. And I'm alright with him being a sissy until the last battle of the movie.

There's one scene in that last battle wherein two of his guys are killed. The one immediately, the other very slowly. And the whole time, he is cowering only a few feet away with a weapon in his hand allowing it to happen because he's afraid.

I've seen the movie a dozen times and still, every time it comes to that part I yell at the screen hoping that one of these days that guy will do something. But he never does.

I don't want to be that guy.

If this is true, if My King is who He says He is, then my life is every dramatic, inspiring, action-packed, adventure that has ever been told in print or picture. I need to remember that. I need to see it every day. I need to put on the full armor of Christ, take up my cross and die daily because if I don't I will cower in the stairwell, weapon in hand, while people die.

"I can hear the rhythm of the Lion of the tribe of Judah ..." Can you?

influence much?

I got involved in student ministry because I LIKE teenagers. Well aware of my own imperfections, the plan was simply to spur them onward and upward while dealing with my own shortcomings behind the scenes. (That still is the plan, don't worry.) God uses imperfect people, and I qualify, so I signed up.

The idea was to be a good influence and teach what I'm learning and see them go from glory to glory as they usher revival into their schools and change both the expression of Christianity in the northwest Chicago 'burbs as well as people's jaded perception of teenagers.

If someone had told me that in addition to picking up on the things I'm doing right, they would also - probably unconsciously - begin to mirror the things I'm doing wrong I might have thought a little harder before taking this job. Irrevocable callings aside, the Lord and I would have talked about it a little more.

I obviously don't know what it feels like to be a parent but I'm going to make this statement anyway: I feel like a parent. Like when you (not any of you, of course, but that ambiguous "you" that's out there) accidentally let a swear slip out in front of a toddler and he walks around the house for the next hour yelling it at everything. I feel like, overall, I'm getting better at doing what I'm supposed to do, but I get frustrated at myself for letting an occasional obscenity slip out (figuratively speaking).

I can't tell you what it does to me when I see one of them break out of that shy anti-worship thing and actually love on God during a worship set. Or how awesome it is when I see one of them, from across the church lobby, doing the right thing where she's stumbled so many times before. Or when I hear from someone else how impressed he was at a teenager's humility.

On the other end of the spectrum, I can't tell you either what it does to me when I forget to aggressively pursue humility and I see pride and arrogance manifesting in the handful of students I work closest with. Or how angry it makes me when my own season of spiritual apathy rubs off on them.

Of course it's not entirely my fault, and someday they'll have to answer for themselves like I will, but I wonder how much of it, sometimes, is my bad influence and it scares me. Is this the fear of the Lord that is the beginning of wisdom/hatred of evil?

news, insights and pics

I was invited to be a Bible Blogger. Weird. I got an email from a nice young man who asked if he could add me as a link. I was flattered. Then I read "under 'Illinois.'" There are so many they're divided up by state. Honored still, sure.

So I linked to them, 'cause I suspect that's probably what they're after anyway. I doubt this has as much to do with content as hit counts, but whatever. If you're really bored and looking for some Jesus blogs there's a link over in that side column.

That was the news. Here comes the insight:

It's not my insight ... well I guess it's my insight about someone else's insight. I finished a book at work today called MicroTrends by Mark J. Penn. Penn is a pollster who makes an amazing case for how the small, under-the-radar trends are the ones that really shape our society. The book basically goes through 75 of what he believes are the most important. It's interesting. Certainly not mind-blowing, but interesting.

The very last "micro-trend" he discusses is educated terrorists, which - contrary to many western assumptions - is most terrorists. Penn identifies a micro-trend as a group of people that make up 1% or more of the population, so terrorists don't actually qualify (they come in at .002). They have, however, proven that even a "nano-trend" can make an impact.

He discusses their culture, their behavior, their determination, and their possibilities (if al Quaeda could convince just 1% of Muslims in the world to join them, they would number over 10 million - a force larger than any national military in the world). At the end of the chapter, he makes this statement:

"The central terrorist movement of the twenty-first century, unlike communism, will not be defeated with washing machines. [long story] On top of the military and social efforts, it will take strong intellectual and religious cohesion - perhaps an interfaith movement dedicated to defining the true path to God that wins back as many converts intellectually as the military is able to find and destroy."

Did a secular author just prophecy? Are we so in the last days that a man removed from the Church and the word of God, who simply studies social trends, can plainly see that the best solution to wars and rumors of wars is a single world religion? Weird.

And I finally put up some pictures of the house. Not many of the inside, but you'll just have to be patient. You can see them here.

random thoughts and quick links

I've decided on my first book. Marianne actually pointed out what should have been an obviously brilliant topic for my first book a couple days ago, in her final stunning act as BGFF before moving half-way across the world. (Yes, I made that up. "G" for "girl" 'cause of course my hubby is my BFF.) It's going to be wildly successful and, I suspect, inspire a prime time teevee show. Timothy and I will then live off royalties.

A college student freed himself from an Egyptian jail via Twitter.

Bite Back is a ministry that helps students save lives in Africa. They're friends with Compassion. They provide treated insect nets for $10.

The Mocha Club is the latest project from Threads (a young adult ministry). Becoming a member simply means you commit to donating $7/month (the cost of two mochas) for missionary work in the Sudan. $7 a month is the smallest commitment I've ever been asked for.

And yes, the house is still amazing. Thank you for asking. We'll have you over soon.

Oh, and I'm turning the comments back on for now - which apparently won't actually happen until the next post. I think I'm over myself enough to handle enabled comments, but we'll see.

cool neighbors

Mm-kay. House updates (sans pictures because I haven't uploaded them yet).

We bought a house. We're almost all moved in, but we just don't have the stuff it takes to fill it. The bedroom is looking good, so if you come over I'll show you the bedroom.

And we have amazing neighbors.

Cool Neighbor Story #1: There's an eight year old boy who lives across the street and has been skateboarding for four years. Yes, I said an eight year old who has been skateboarding for four years. His mother confirmed those numbers.

He and his 13 year-old friend who lives a few houses down lured Timothy out into the street Wednesday evening to skate. Timothy tried to resist, but the kids pulled out ramps. They fight dirty. Before I knew what had happened, small skateboarders had emerged from all over the neighborhood. And a little kid with a bike. It was cute.

Cool Neighbor Story #2: There is a retired couple who live directly across the street. The previous owners mentioned that they often bring the garbage/recycling cans back up the driveway for them. I smiled and said something like, "Oh that's nice" as I secretly wondered if they left their garbage cans on the curb for two days.

Wednesday is garbage day. Wednesday at lunch the garbage collectors had not yet come. Wednesday after work, Timothy was home and the garbage/recycling cans were at the top of the driveway. I assumed ...

No. Later, talking to the neighbors with the kid who has been skating for half of his life span, I found out that the nice retired man across the street collected our trash receptacles for us. She saw him do it only moments after the truck turned the corner.

Cool Neighbor Story #3: It's been rainy lately. You've noticed. The cool neighbor with the afore-mentioned novice knocked on our door this afternoon between drizzles. He reached beneath his hoodie and produced an 8x10 wooden picture frame.

"I took this picture yesterday and it was kinda cool so I thought you might want a copy. It actually printed out pretty well."

The picture - in a brand new (hardware still in the plastic bag, stapled to the back) frame - was of our house yesterday after a rain shower. There is a brilliant double rainbow that seems to touch both of the top corners of our roof. He thought it was cool.

I think our neighbors are stinkin' cool.