i just said the "C" word... (Coffee Corner Conversations, episode 3)

so i ran into yet another creeper, who just left a few minutes ago.

i PROMISE this one has a good ending!!

i'm pretty sure this buddy needs help. of multiple types, intensities and flavors.

if each of his needs were a color, Picasso could just go crazy on a canvas and he'd wind up with a fairly accurate visual rendering of this guy's mentality.

after seeing "Arnav" greet me and then leave, this guy immediately lit into him, dubbed him a "creeper," and dove headfirst straight into his view of personalities, the reason so many people are mean and "unhappy," his confusion as to why i didn't see Arnav as creepy, and how he came to his enlightened philosophy based on his broad expanse of learning.  because he doesn't work ("it makes people unhappy," he said... because this piece of work is such a charmer, right? 'not' working isn't really workin' for him)

i told him, using very short sentences and zero eye contact that this man was a doctor, i have known/seen/spoken to him a few times over several months, that i work in a hospital and have seen the whole spectrum of personalities, and that i know a creeper when i see one.

i did not say "I SEE ONE RIGHT NOW" although this was clearer than Saran wrap before the man even opened his mouth to the coffee girl at the counter.

i did not ask for a conversation.

i did not imply my desire to continue talking through action, thought, or word.

...but he asked why i disagreed.

and my favorite thing to do with that question is to answer it. 

and the short answer to why i'm not unhappy, and love my job, and don't see the immediate connection between joy and money like he does….

well the short answer uses the "C" word.

i simply stated that i have lived most of my life as a non-Christian, but now live it as a Christian, and that has made all the difference.

that's all it took-that one, little "C" word.

this dude… oh, Mylanta!…

with him doing most of the talking, not stopping to let me have a word in, barely stopping to breathe- we uncovered his whole philosophical view, his perspective on religion, how religion ("and faith", he added, after i objected to his non-differentiation) caused 9-11-01, how Republicans caused every other evil under the sun (he doesn't work, remember- it makes people unhappy), and somehow he managed to work in just about every common cuss word in the English vocabulary multiple times. 

this took a remarkably short amount of time.  probably because his brain was running short on oxygen… i question how long his cerebrum has been in this state, to be honest. like i said: "Picasso."

he even grabbed my Bible and said he was gonna disprove my religion using a verse in Isaiah (which he never found) as he avoided the question i asked (like, how often he's read the Bible/how much knowledge he has concerning Jesus) and kept jabbering away, mocking me and my inability to keep up with him and his objections and that the questions "would only get harder- come on, now, sweetheart!"  

BunnyTrail: to all his fellow creepers out there, feel free to never call me sweetheart.  like, ever.  don't do it.  or i may have to punch you in the face, in the spirit of Christian love and charity of course.

it was at this point that i told him to just write down every contradiction he knew of in the Bible, hoping that would keep him occupied for a bit.

because he was actually becoming overly excited, with a nearly aggressive physical behavior and a raised voice. 

he went outside to get his list- apparently he had one already prepared.

at this point, the coffee girl leaned over the counter where i was sitting and asked if he was bothering me, that he came frequently and that she was concerned.  she told two other employees or managers and i explained to all three of them my past experience with Creeper #1, and that what had irritated this one was that i had told him i was a Christian...and that if he didn't back off soon that they should feel free to intervene. it really did seem that he was ready to chill out and back down- and while Jesus said a lot about love, He also said to "be wise as serpents, and harmless as doves." 

modern-day translation: be nice, yes, but please don't be stupid. 

so the four of us agreed to watch each other's backs.  since 2 of them had headsets and were across the store but both staying in direct line of sight from me and each other, it kinda felt like we had a covert op going on. 

my hands were literally shaking as i awaited his return.  i prayed with my eyes on the door.  the only verses that came to mind charged me to "be ready, in season and out of season," and also to not fear or plan out wordy arguments because words would be given me as i needed them.

Creeper #2 had a change of heart during his long absence, returned, and calmly apologized for his behavior.  he said he'd had too much coffee and got excited about his belief system.

(excited?  dude, if you hadn't calmed down or had taken one step closer i was gonna call my cop buddy and file another report!)

and then he sat down again.

and then he kept talking, but in a much more relaxed manner.

and coffee girl even sat down for a couple minutes- whether because she was keeping an immediate eye on us or because she was interested, i don't know.

but i delivered to him the same question i delivered to Creeper #1… and yet again, he was unable to answer it.

if the closest to religion he can come is Buddhism,

if there is no God,

no afterlife,

if evolution is an actual fact,

if humans are nothing more than highly evolved monkeys…

who cares, and WHY CARE?

well, the "obvious" "answer" is that being "nice" is "better" than being "mean."

the problem is that evolution leaves you with diddly-squat. all those words in quotation marks have no basis, no meaning, no justification with no God.  there IS no standard of right or wrong.  there IS NO RIGHT OR WRONG IF THERE IS NO GOD.

the means of Darwin's great evolution theory is what he termed "survival of the fittest."  the strong surviving.  the weak dying. the "good" traits reproducing and the "bad" ones weeded out of the gene pool.

well, in human terms, this means that the big bullies should be rewarded, not put in time-out.

the gun owners should walk into a bank, take the money and spend it frivolously on whatever makes them happy.

the Homeowners Association reps should totally just take out their neighbors and anyone else they don't like or think is a "worse" gardener than they are.

the smart people should overcome the dummies.

the strong men should take advantage of the women.

the poor should go die…

we should ignore Nepal's earthquake, Chile's volcano, abortion, sick babies, the AIDS crisis in Africa.

that's what evolution leaves you with. if you have trouble reading those statements, it's because you have an eternal soul that recognizes there is something "off" there.

he fidgeted and squirmed, started many sentences and finished none of them, tried to save face- and did a pretty good job of it- but realized neither of us could change the other's mind, gathered his huge stack of magazines and books proclaiming the liberty of an atheistic and cuss-word-filled life and left. 

after i politely refused to give him my name, he got a little offended and then refused my two book suggestions i had written down on a post-it note.  if i "won't give my name to a 'creeper,' he can't accept any information from a brainwashed crazy."  i forget the actual word he used instead of "crazy," but the rest of that quote is verbatim.

i told him i'd pray for him. 

"i know you like to have the last word but… don't bother," was his emphatic retort.

"you can't stop me." i replied with a smile.  i think we left on good terms as he laughed at my sense of humor and smile, called me sweetheart again, and departed. i hope so, because eventually he's gonna find the post-it note in between two of his books... i really do like having the last word!!! :P

i don't think even in liberal, anti-religion New York i have encountered someone so immediately offended at my faith.  someone so hostile they respond with anger, scorn, and language that would make any high schooler proud.  

and even legitimately concerned as i was -(for anyone within hearing range of this guy, for me being cornered in my chair, … for his own sanity- literally…)   - i was glad. 

i was glad that through this experience, i was able to tell 4 more people that I was a Christian.  that i had legitimate concerns with the questions evolution can't answer and that faith can.  that there is one humble person in a Captain America t-shirt and jeans who is not afraid to say the truth and face the questions hurled back.  even if i can't whip out the perfect answer in PowerPoint format and 3 Bible references to prove each slide.  i'm not CS Lewis or Ravi Zacharias, after all.  

i'm just me.  but i do have the Truth and i will tell anyone who asks.  it's not like i've never been cussed out before, or never had the same questions they do, or am ashamed of who i am now.

and that by gum, that panicked prayer i threw up to Heaven worked. whether he swallowed a Xanax from his car or if the Holy Spirit intervened directly- either way, he came back into the store a changed person, and i can only hope now that he left changed, too. however many brain cells he spends questioning his value system, he and a couple employees here hopefully have a couple things to think about now. 

so do i. 

this is nowhere near the post i had planned on writing.  in my perfect little universe, that conversation would never happened. the store manager is probably wishing it hadn't happened, too.

which is why i have a big, perfect God who runs the big universe,  and who has an answer - IS the Answer- to every hurting, questioning, angry soul out there.

i'm so glad i'm a ["C" word]!!!

Arnav, Aslan and the Ultimate Father-Abba (Coffee Corner Conversations, #2)

the most recent conversation i've had, in my favorite (only) "coffee corner" in my favorite (only) local bookstore was with a kind Muslim of the non-creeper variety. he's got  double handful of mixed up beliefs about Jesus and the Bible, but for a Muslim he's less mixed up than i originally gave him credit for. 

his pseudonym is "Arnav" simply because a Google searched website said it was the #1 Indian boy name last year.  and it has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?

of course, with these two faiths side by side sipping cappuccinos, the hinge of the whole 2.5 hour chat was Jesus, His death and resurrection, and hell.  Arnav's belief of "hell" is much more like the concept of purgatory, a time of penance for wrong beliefs and actions before eventual release to heaven, where he says all souls and spiritual beings will someday find themselves.  if God is loving, he claims, then He could never condemn someone to Hell, even for the worst of crimes.  to make his point, he told me his favorite mini parable, retold here:

two men are sitting by a fire discussing eternity as a woman walks by with her child. the first man asks the second if that mother could ever find it in herself to push her child into the flames.  the second immediately rejects the thought of something to repulsive.  the first man replies, "neither could God ever throw one of His children into hell."

short. sweet.  persuasive.

i'm still not good at finding the right words quickly to respond, and it took me a couple days to figure out what about that bothered me so much.  because what he said was true.  God does love His children beyond what we can fathom. 

but it's what he didn't say- that's the catch.

God loves His children.  we'll put that as a fact right here.

God does not chuck His children into eternal fires, just like that mother wouldn't throw her kid into that fire.

if i were the woman walking by the fire, i would put down my basket, take the kid's hand and march right up to Guy #1 and tell him something. firmly.

i would tell him never to question the love of a true mother for her kid. never. just don't do it.  but i would also tell him to NEVER, EVER QUESTION WHAT I WOULD DO  IF ANYTHING THREATENED THAT CHILD.  you had better believe if some football-player type jerk walked up with a knife, or even just a perverted look on his face directed at my kid, i would TAKE HIM OUT.  i would beat the ever-lovin' snot out of him, and i would fight him all the way into the fire until the threat was eliminated.  i would not take his hand and hold it in the heat for a minute, ask him nicely if he had learned his lesson, and then let him walk away.  i'm sorry, but there is no Purgatory for that one.

animals from every Kingdom, Phylum, Class and Order have representatives that are naturally endowed with a maternal instinct, a self-sacrificial, immediate, natural, thoughtless, response to a threat to her offspring. 

any intelligent human who has gone on a hike ever, knows there are a few key rules: bug spray, how to ID poison ivy, bring a map and a buddy, and FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE, IF YOU SEE A BEAR CUB YOU RUN LIKE HECK IN THE OTHER DIRECTION.  

the wrath of a mother bear is not a force to be reckoned with, but a force you hope to never face down, because between Mama Bear and Iron Man…. i'm putting money on Mama Bear.

in response to my friendly Muslim's parable, i put forth my own (well, someone else's).  it's the story of Taken.

this movie, featuring Liam Neeson, is the story of just how far a father will go to get his kidnapped child back. let me tell you, it's pretty freakin' far.  when he overhears the kidnappers take off with his kid and then challenge him from a continent away, his response sends shudders up the backs of the movie viewers-

i don't know who you are. i don't know what you want.  if you are looking for a ransom, i can tell you i don't have money.  what i do have are a very particular set of skills. skills i've acquired over a very long career...if you let my daughter go now, that will be the end of it.  i will not look for you. i will not pursue you.

but if you don't, i will look for you. 

and i will find you. 

and i will kill you.

then he proceeds, in a very Liam Neeson-like manner, to blast through buildings, vehicles, boats, parties, meetings, gangs, construction sites, hooker-houses, and homes until he arrives face to face with the last man standing between him and his daughter. 

all the other challengers are dead. 

i don't know what foolishness made that idiot stand and put a knife to the girl's throat.

but he died, too.

what i love about this movie is that there is absolutely no doubt in anyone's mind while watching this movie that Neeson WILL succeed.  and there is no pity for the evildoers.  nothing but righteous indignation for Liam as he fulfills his promise with firmness, dexterity, and a fair amount of cussing (he's pretty ticked…).

what i love even more is that later on in his career, Liam would also go on to become the new voice of Aslan, the Lion King of Narnia. 

especially this Easter weekend, as Christians around the world celebrate the best holiday ever, we see the real story put before us that Narnia is the parable OF. 

the story of just how far a parent will go to rescue his child.

the story of a child, taken from his parent, trapped, ensnared, lost, hopeless, tired, starving, wretched, weak, alone and on the brink of death and eternal damnation-

...waiting

...silence..

...nothing- then!!

-who is suddenly, miraculously, completely, eternally, firmly, loudly, always-and-forever saved, redeemed, snatched from the clutches of evil and brought away from the danger of the flame and instead placed in a soft green meadow to rest while the Parent "deals with" the threat. 

there's "that moment" in The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe - what a great moment!-  when you can just about hear Aslan's voice echoing from that dusty wardrobe- "GET YOUR HAND OFF MY KID, YOU EVIL WITCH!!!"

i heard it again even tonight, as i was listening to part of the Maundy Thursday service.  this service traces Jesus' journey from the Last Supper, through that dinner, the betrayal, His earnest prayer to not suffer what He was about to suffer, His friends leaving Him alone and denying Him, His betrayer approaching and handing Him off to soldiers, His mocking and beatings, the Cross, the one-way trip up a small hill outside the city where people dumped their trash…

at each step, you're watching, knowing that your soul is hanging in the balance- either He takes the punishment… or you do.

at each step, you're hearing it thinking- "oh snap… He's gonna quit.  i'm not worth that."

and at each step, He says, "yes you are." and He takes another step. 

you want to know how far a parent will go to get His kid back?

the answer is "to hell and back."

He took that Cross, He went through Hell and He came back.

i know there's an eternal Hell where souls go forever. 

i know because it's technically where i belong.

i know because it's also where He went so that i wouldn't.

...and since He's the only one who's done that, i'm going to take His authoritative word on the subject.

Hell is there to show both His eternal love for His children that He saves from judgement, and eternal justice for those who willfully despise  Him and His sacrifice, reject His offer of forgiveness and mercy without price and instead choose to bear their own crosses to Hell...only they can't come back.

hard to hear if you think you're Iron Man, but if you're the cub standing behind Aslan the Protector, it's the most blessed and peaceful message. 

if you are horrified by the idea of Hell, it's probably because you're in your metal outfit and think you're safe- but you question that force in front of you.

this is a good thing.  definitely question that force.

...then admit defeat.  you cannot win. give up now- please.

but Aslan is roaring for you, too.  He defeated the evil forever, not just for Eustace, but for you, too.  He challenged Hell and soundly defeated it in a showdown that reverberated throughout all the realms of nature even to the supernatural heights.  the sun forgot to shine, fabric fell apart, rocks shuddered under people's feet, and dead people forgot they were supposed to stay in their graves and NOT go running through the streets on Passover effectively making everyone they shook hands with "unclean" according to the religious law of the day.  yes, there is SO much irony there.  the people of faith were forever cleansed from sin, while the people of the written law were yapping about ceremonial uncleanness because their great-great uncle just touched them while wearing graveclothes.

to my Muslim friend Arnav, i hope he hears Aslan's roar someday, and comes to know personally the Eternal Living God who calls to him as a parent calls a child home for dinner, and who his children refer to as "Abba."  the Father you may never have known in this life is waiting for you to come home to Him.  He can take your Hell- He's been there and won.  let Him take it, and give you in exchange a white robe and peace under His loving, watchful eye where no threat stands a chance.  His victory roar is also His promise.

i hope you hear it, too.

it's  beautiful roar, as long as it's for you.

a prayer for the AAEO

this week not only brings us the fantastic weather we've been waiting weeks for, but also concludes with the grandest of all celebrations- Easter.

we began Holy Week with one of my favorite church activities- a joint service with two other local church bodies.  having worked the 3 nights previous, i was delirious with exhaustion by the time i got home, but it was time well spent, singing and praising God with so many others. 

just before the joint service, though, we had a brief time of worship at our own church which included both Scripture reading and a time of offering.

this is what got me.

well, it had already gotten me, and continued to "get" me throughout all the worshiping for the rest of the day.

in the weeks leading up to Easter, our church annually collects money for the Annie Armstrong Easter Offering (AAEO), which goes to support missionaries all over America with the North American Missions Board (NAMB). 

this week, i was finally "with it" enough to throw in my donation- i even put it in the correct yellow envelope :)  but i looked at that check and just about broke down. 

i've gone on 4 short-term mission trips now, and each time have developed skills, stretched myself physically, emotionally and spiritually, and seen just a bit more of God and what He is doing worldwide.  

and each time i wish it was easier to share this all-important message with those in America. those in India and Brazil are inspired, impressed that rich white people would leave their air conditioning and hamburgers to come tell other nations about Jesus and His love for them.  they know that whatever we're saying has got to be important if we would go to so much effort to let them know. 

then i come back.

i come back to a nation full of individuals who do not have to care. a country with enough religions and faiths and labels that you can mix-and-match them, design your own religion, pick and choose a church or denomination or moral system and lose nothing. 

except their souls.

our church is supporting one couple that has answered God's call to Utah, to take the Gospel to a part of this country that has distorted it to fit humans' desires until it's not the Gospel anymore but rather spiritual poison that tastes like candy. 

but what about me?

i looked at that envelope and cried. right in the middle of church, i cried.

because when i looked at that envelope i saw faces and names. those faces and names belong to people i know and love here in America that either do not know the Gospel, know it yet reject it, or know it but haven't yet shown evidence of the Spirit in their hearts.  ones i have tried to tell, but probably not hard enough.  Mark. Lisa.  Joel.  Jennifer.  Nick.  Max.  Mary.  Jaime.  even Ike, the creeper. the list goes on. Miriam.  Isabel.  always more.

i love, love, love celebrating Easter.  it is a time that brings me back to my knees in humble gratefulness for the miracle of mercy.

and i hate, hate, hate knowing there are those so near and dear to me that cannot celebrate it- can't celebrate anything, really, because they are dead and don't even know it.

if i can pay thousands of dollars to tell people on the other side of globe about Jesus, and give more money for other people to reach Americans, how can i do less?

if there were a dollar price tag on these souls, there is nothing that would prevent me from earning, finding, getting or even stealing the needed money. i would get every last penny and not rest until i did.  i would campaign like the best politician ever, buy a bullhorn, sell every possible possession i owned.

how much would i give for them to come to know Christ? 

would i give money?

would i give more?  what about my self-esteem?  my public image? my friendships? what would i risk for them?

the beautiful problem is that there IS a price tag.  it's just not in dollar signs.  the cost is "1 perfect soul."

and that's something i do not have, and can never earn or buy or find or steal or get.

...because it's already been paid. the only perfect soul gave itself so that people from every nation and tribe could be redeemed. because of the most incomprehensible and extreme exchange ever conceived, my soul is now counted as "perfect," and the promise is that His grace can cover the souls of those i pray for, too.  He already gave the "Everything" that was demanded.

i cannot buy with money forgiveness for my loved ones.

i cannot intrigue them with my long journey to tell them the Gospel, because they are right here.

but i can tell them what God did for me, and what He did and can do for them. and it WILL cost me- just not as much is dollars.  but i CAN give it.

and i CAN give so that all the other Marks, Lisas, Maxs, Joels, Jennifers, Nicks that mean so much to others can hear.

everybody knows somebody who does not believe.  everybody knows somebody who needs to hear, or hear again, hear urgently, the message that there IS hope, there IS an eternity, and there IS an answer for this world and the next. 

so give.

and then tell.  or tell again.

Dear Mark, Lisa, Joel, Jennifer, Max, Nick, Miriam and Isabel- i will never stop praying for you guys.  you mean so much to me that i would even risk a friendship, risk offending anyone, risk my life here and risk possessions, money and sanity to tell you that you are worth more than the world to a Savior.  a Savior who knows your name, your good side, your bad side. a Savior who demands justice...so much so that He pleaded "guilty" in your stead so that you could walk off Death Row freely.

you guys are surrounded.

surrounded by friends who want to tell you more, surrounded by a world shouting His praises for you to sing along with, surrounded by a God who loves you more than you can imagine.  

this Easter i hope you are blown away by the miraculous love, grace and mercy that i found, that your eyes are opened and your hearts healed.  that this is the Easter that lasts forever for you, and that somehow, someway, you are filled with His blessed peace that you can rest in forever.

the ultimate final exam

it has not been very long since the world got a major slap in the face from an online video featuring the execution of 21 Coptic Christians in Egypt.  

every news station that i saw reports from stated shock and outrage that any religious fanatics would do that to another human being.

every secular/non-religious friend who posted anything responded likewise, often continuing on in their criticisms of religion as a whole, the concept of a God condoning any act of violence (or any act at all) against another person's belief structure. 

and me?

i joined with my fellow church members and prayed.  we prayed for peace to rest on their families.  we prayed for the love of Christ to reach those members of ISIS who are so taken in by a religion of hatred and lies. we prayed for so many Christians abroad who are facing similar threats to their lives, families and freedom.

but we also rejoiced- quietly,  slightly muted because of the extreme horror or such an ugly display of evil- but yes, there was some rejoicing.  we rejoiced that these Christians faced the greatest test of faith and passed with an A+.  it's not like ISIS gave much of a pop quiz before the final exam, but even at the end their faith did not waver.

terrorists can wave those heads around like trophies and exclaim all they want about their triumph, their god, their truth.

but my brothers in Christ are in heaven, with perfect heads that are currently supporting bright, shining crowns. and their mouths are singing the same song they sang on Earth, only louder and more fervently than ever before.  instead of kneeling before terrorists facing the "end,"  they are kneeling before the throne of God Almighty where there IS NO END.

both the terrorists and martyrs were shouting victory at the exact same moment: ISIS because they could take life here on Earth, and the Christians because they now had more Life than ISIS could ever fathom, let alone take away.

i honestly couldn't say how i'd handle the same test these martyrs took.  i've got the study guides of those gone before me.  i've got the biggest textbook ever- the Bible, written by the Teacher Himself.  i've got some incredible study buddies who have as their mission in life stretching and encouraging my faith.  i want to believe i'd flounce out of the exam room like a giddy ballerina, but i don't trust myself that much.  i do trust Him, though, and His promise is that one way or another we will find ourselves alongside our fellow Church members, celebrating for all eternity. the tears we shed now will remain in this current "past," along with the lies, sin and destruction that plague this world.  Jesus before His own execution told his friends that the ruler of this Earth would be overcome later.  we're still waiting for that "later," but it's coming and even this skirmish that ISIS thinks it won will be reclaimed, along with all of Creation.

i mourn the loss of life, and that a false truth would distort true Truth to such an extent- but i'm also at peace, knowing Who is really in control of the entire situation and Who has already won the war and promised us a share in the victory. 

on the brink of an adventure!

this is my last night in Jackson for a couple weeks (just over 2, unless something strange happens), and i gotta say…

this is the part where i wig out.

the reality of the impending adventure hit me like a semi truck monday night.

by tuesday night, my pulse and respiratory rate were consistently elevated.

by tonight (wednesday), stress hit peak levels and my entire body responded much like you'd expect it to after being hit by a semi truck.

for the past two weeks so many people have been almost daily passing on their prayers and blessings and excitement to me and i am rather humbled. 

and now i am humbly begging for more.  (after the Summary of my Day/background story to the prayer requests and praise :) )

today has been one heck of a day. mistake #1 was thinking i could wake up before noon and somehow be okay.  soooo not true. we started off alright, but it definitely took me 4 tries to leave the house with all 5 things i needed to bring with me.  like the car keys, for one.

1615 is when the migraine happened.

1705 is when the migraine skipped a stage and went straight to the puking.  i haven't puked in 4 1/2 years.  but a brief psychoanalysis of myself and the immediate after-effects proved it was stress-migraine related and not contagious or requiring me to flee the premises.

1735 is when the Cubbies showed up.

just in case i die of malaria overseas, i love that i have tonight as a memory.  and that my stomach somehow retained the double-dose of Excedrin so that i could be there to HAVE this memory ;)

the lesson i was able to teach centered on Christ as our shepherd- the one who guides, provides, and protects His sheep, every single one of them, no matter where they wander off to.  and it was preceded by a simple, humble, touching prayer led by another co-leader but participated in by a whole herd of little Cubbies.  Cubbies who grasp even just a bit, but who eagerly try to grasp more, ask questions before and during story time or even snack time, and blow my mind with their simple faith every week.  sometimes i wonder if i have as much faith as they do or if i've buried some of it.  after game time, when the game teacher usually has them shout out the Cubbies' "motto" ("Jesus loves me!") he told them to sing it instead- just to see what happened.  at least half of them caught on and sang a rousing-yet-totally-uncoordinated rendition including the chorus.  

my pulse was still high as i walked out the building and is only climbing.

i'm putting this post on this blog for a couple reasons, one of them being that as technologically challenged as i am, there are continuing difficulties in getting the other blog to post onto facebook or twitter or the internet.   (however, i'd prefer that this blog be kept completely separate from twitter if at all possible, so if you don't mind, don't tweet this out to everyone you know-just keep it to facebook.  that'd be awesome.)

i am full of praise:

-i have some wonderful 4 year olds. i friggin' love them. i learn so much by teaching them, and also seeing the progress of last year's Cubbies who against my instructions insisted on growing older and moving up to the Sparks class, and can now write words and read and… it's crazy.

Tra and LaLa started as just a way to connect these little minds to missions, and now they connect me to these kids as well- as well as connect me to many other people, young and old that i can share Jesus with.

-they have some wonderful parents/family members, who are my church family members. i friggin' love them, too.  from the very beginning of this journey a whole whopping 5-6 weeks ago, they and many others have supported this endeavor in multiple ways, always above and beyond anything i have needed or asked for or thought of.

-i have a wonderful opportunity to share with other people that they have a Good Shepherd who loves them more than they can imagine. 

-i have a Good Shepherd who knows His sheep and finds them when they go astray and brings them back to the fold, no matter how broken, scared and crazy-lost they've gotten themselves.

i am also full of freaked-out-ness:

-i have a pile of emotional baggage that i have been fighting with for what seems like years (mostly because it's been… years :P ). another suitcase got thrown on top of the pile this week. and it's definitely over Delta's 50 pound weight-limit.

-i have a couple of friends going through incredible amounts of pain.  i can do nothing for them.  it is not my story to tell, but it is weighing on me heavily and i need all kinds of prayers send their way.  the Holy Spirit knows their address and will forward it on, if you wouldn't mind sending a message of hope and healing.

-i have… zero boldness and confidence right now.  it may be my stomach and nerves talking, but boldness and confidence are what i desire.  maybe an extra dose of faith.  i think faith is a large part of the difference between "boldness and confidence" and "stupidity and recklessness."

-i have 2 50-ish pound suitcases filled with donated toothbrushes, tums and tylenol, wound care supplies, vitamins and cough drops.  our group of 30-something people is about to encounter thousands of people in thousands of situations- every one of them needs their Good Shepherd.  and our team needs to be willing to follow the Shepherd, trusting that He will lead us to exactly the right places and people in exactly the right time, no matter how crazy or not-our-plan-ish it looks.  the Type A part of me is struggling quite a bit with this :P

this trip will be good. it will have eternal effects. and i am ridiculously excited to see what is in store for us!  i think once i am on the plane the twitching and tachycardia will stop, too (or at least back off a bit). 

as long as i have WiFi access, i plan on keeping people stateside updated using this WordPress blog:

golalago.wordpress.com

and figuring out how to make it more accessible to all those who want to stay up-to-date on things- so feel free to share it, re-post it, tag or hashtag it, or reply/message me if the links fail like they did last week :P  my phone's got Viber, which i also have little experience with but if you text me during LifeGroup time/mornings, chances are pretty good i'll be able to reply ;)

until i see you again and can share in more detail about this trip, my prayers for you are largely modeled after Philippians (in particular chapter 1, except for the imprisonment part ;) ) and Ephesians 3:14-21. 

thank you.

God bless you.

ready.

set.

go!

How to be Awesome

i don't know if anyone on this planet has taken longer to make it through the Book of Luke than I have.  of course, most people haven't ever even thought of trying to in the first place.

i'm finally getting near the end.  we're moments from the climax.   SO excited!

the Christmas festivities are over, memories and joy still fresh in our minds, and now i'm reading through the story of those moments that He came here for.  that huge moment we just sang, read, heard, and partied about- the Immortal becoming a mortal, Heaven meeting earth in the wildest manner- was all leading up to this even huger moment: the first, last and only innocent mortal becomes the guilty, the Captain becomes Expendable Crewman, the King becomes lowest of the low, the world as we know it turns upside down and inside out and even the natural elements shake, rattle and roll in protest, tossing newly un-dead people out of their graves, the sun forgetting to shine, earthquakes cracking the ground open, curtains splitting top to bottom. now that ought to raise your blood pressure a bit!

i'd been reading pretty slowly, maybe a section or two at a time, which could be 2 verses or 20, depending on how much dear Dr. Luke had to say.  but this last bit he's been going faster, shooting out bits and pieces as fast as his little quill can go 'cause he just can't help himself.  i think he's getting excited too because he knows what's coming.

he's retelling a story he's heard bunches of times, reliving that epic weekend and wishing that he could have been there with his journal and sketchbook. 

it's the Jews' biggest holiday, full of merrymaking, songs, family get-togethers,  in-law jokes, memories, gift-giving, travel and traffic jams, tradition, and worship of the best kind.  a time to be together and spend time with those closest to you, remembering the past and always looking forward to the future. 

sound familiar? it should. you just survived it ;)

so Jesus is there despite all the intra-national chaos He's caused, with His very closest friends- just 12.  well, 11 really, but there's a black sheep in every group (just most really aren't quite this black). 

and He, like usual, drops a major bomb on the scene, and turns the party into a panic scene.  if they'd been paying attention, they would have recalled His mentioning this before, but they weren't so they didn't.  but they sure noticed when He took the tradition to a whole new level , introduced a new spin on the Passover, and started talking quite frankly about dying and then coming back to life.

can you just imagine the "hugeness" of this moment?

all these things suddenly "click" in their heads, and like any other rational human being who just figures all this out, they completely freak. their best friend, future King who's going to kick out Rome, who can instantly cure anything, the smartest and wisest and fairest of all, the fulfiller of all their hopes and dreams- he's going to get murdered very soon, one of their best friends was a treacherous son of the Devil, and yet Jesus was unflustered. 

and then because Luke wasn't there, he just keeps on documenting what happened next…

ten seconds.  well, maybe it took more than that. 

but only one verse.

one. verse. later.

and these grown men are animatedly discussing who's going to be the Next Great Thing.  Jesus is sitting right there, Judas had just walked out, EVERYONE'S ETERNITY IS HANGING IN THE BALANCE, and He's watching them go from the having worst kind of emotional pain to bullies-  in the span of one verse. 

these friends suddenly turn into...well, childish jerks.  once they figured out who the Worst one was, Judas, now they all had to figure out their own rankings and who was the Greatest and would be named Team Captain once Jesus was gone. they'd been together for a few years, some of them were brothers and best friends for decades and so there was a wealth of ammo they could use on each other.  i wonder what Jesus' facial expression was as he listened to them try to prove to each other why they were each better than all the others. 

i don't know how long that whole convo went on before He spoke.  in my head i can see Him, just starting to talk.  not raising His voice.  not standing on His reclining pillow and making a toast.  not even begging anyone's pardon or asking to be excused to say something.  just starting to talk.  and then one or two noticed and turned their attention, so that the other nine or ten did, too.  part of me wonders if their host was around the corner eavesdropping on what this guy has to say.  everyone who was an Israelite knew this man was a sensation and attracted discussion, debate and chaos like never before- and this guy gets to host Him for the Passover!!!  well, what a story he had to tell his friends and curious neighbors later!!

and then, just like He's so good at, Jesus took all their lofty dreams, goals, aspirations, and Disciple of the Year Awards and flushed 'em.  ripped 'em to ribbons.

and replaced them with something entirely different, and entirely better.

zoom in on Peter, as he hears Jesus tell him that the leader is a servant, the Captain is the foot soldier, the CEO is the janitor. a few small sentences, and the whole definition of "Awesome" is redefined.

and Peter?  well, Peter just looks down, a bit embarrassed, and what does he see?

he sees his feet.  the feet that just minutes before had been washed and dried by the one he himself had openly confessed to  be the Lord Jesus Christ a while back- and had received his own name "Peter" at that same time. 

i have one little bitty post-it note in this section of my Bible.  right after graduating college i was "promoted" to the adult LifeGroup, which had been working through the book of Luke for possibly longer than i have been, and one statement stuck out and i just had to jot it down and never forget it.  so i did, and i haven't. 

one little quote:

"Jesus didn't tell us to be The Greatest.

Jesus told us to be Great."

and then He showed us how.  every day, for years with His disciples, and then one night with one paragraph.

He tells us, "here's how to be Awesome": 

you're winning that argument you're so "right" about? be quiet and forgive the "wrong" person.

you see nasty, dirty, smelly, arthritic feet with ingrown toenails and warts?  wash them, and give them a pedicure.

you see dirty dishes in the sink when it's "their turn"?  wash them anyway, and take out the trash while you're at it.

you see a WWII vet having lunch at Chili's?  pay his tab.

you see an antagonistic neighbor who has no friends because he's argued them all away having lunch all by himself at Chili's?  pay his tab, too, and tell the waiter to send him one of those wickedly delicious chocolate brownie desserts with ice cream and drizzle.

actually, He went a bit farther. 

"Peter, I just told you I was gonna DIE. 

that's not the END of Me being your Captain- it's the CLIMAX. 

YOU GUYS DON'T REPLACE ME, YOU FOLLOW ME.

I healed the blind, I played with kids at the playground, I blew the mind of that tax collector's world, I had lunch at that demon-possessed hooker's house with all her demon-possessed hooker friends- you know, you were there with Me, too, when those lives changed!! you saw the mute men speak, and you saw the Pharisees silenced. you shook hands with those newly-cleansed lepers, you witnessed that moment when a blind man saw the color "green" for the very first time, the first steps of a grown man no longer a cripple.

NONE of those moments were as incredible as the moments coming up. I rocked all their worlds; I'm about to rock yours.

THIS IS HOW YOU BE AWESOME. 

you die.  you follow my example, all the way to the Cross.

i'm going to die.  and then rise again, Captain of all Captains.

you're going to fail.  you're going to fail quite epically, in fact, and soon.  tonight.

but you're going to rise again and be a… brother.  not a Second in Command, or King, or Time's Person of the Year.  you don't get a badge or a crown or a cape. but failure though you are, you get my seal of approval. 

I prayed for you.

you are Mine. Satan asked for you; I said No.  I am telling him No, all the way up Golgotha.

THIS IS HOW YOU BE AWESOME.

…

follow Me."

the cool thing is when you keep reading Luke and you see it all happen.  Jesus dies...and then rises again.

Peter struggles.  Peter fails.  Peter turns back, follows Jesus and becomes a different kind of leader.

now it's my turn.

i struggled and failed at least as badly as Peter, but my Leader succeeded.

i walked around Calvary, but my Leader leads me UP Calvary.

my hands dripping with guilt are clean because my Leader's hands dripped with His own blood shed for mine.

my turn to look at my feet, cleansed with His forgiveness. 

my hands, cleansed by His love. 

my soul, with no other mark than His own Seal of Approval.

and my turn to get those feet following the Leader up path to Awesomeness. 

wanna come, too? please do- you're welcome to join me :)

the nurse you don't see

sometimes "privilege" doesn't sound like the right word for my "job"- but that word definitely doesn't sound right.  i get a paycheck every couple weeks, so it is indeed a  job, but i love it way to much to call it that.  but there are times when no word fits.  if someone had taken a stroll through the unit that night they would have seen people in scrubs doing what most every other person in scrubs would do: meds, IVs, charting, cleaning, smiling, moving, holding.

there are so many pictures, posters, posts and blogs about what it means to be a nurse, one more won't break the internet (i hope). i think every nurse has "that one" shift, maybe a small handful of shifts, that is their defining shift, that captures it all for them, that "lightbulb" moment where they realize what nursing really, truly is and why they can still handle being a nurse. there are many opinions of nurses, the majority of them positive- but for weird reasons, like because of passing nursing school,  or because i make "so much" money, or because they can't fathom starting tiny IVs or changing huge diapers, or hold a bucket for a nauseated stranger and are glad someone else will, or because they or a family member has been hospitalized and had a good, or at least expected- given the situation-, experience. just about all of it is true- except for the "so much money" thing (i don't know where that nonsense comes from), but none of it has anything to do with how i feel about my job or how i define it. 

the "everyones" out there have their reasons based on the nurse they see. good for them- their opinions are valid and appreciated.

but i have my own reasons, and they're all based on the nurse they don't see.

the nurse you saw last night successfully started a tiny IV in a tiny, wiggly scalp, cleaned up puke at least half a dozen times, dosed out antibiotics and drew labs all over the place.

...the nurse you didn't see literally held a cranky kid's hand for 15 minutes so he would just finally go to sleep because he felt like crap, skipped lunch, and helped code a newborn while the parents slept upstairs, quickly, quietly, efficiently- at least 5 people working as one body with one mission: save this life.

the nurse you saw helped a friend clean up after the code failed, paper, notes, packaging, pens, equipment, trash. sweep the floor. wipe down the monitors. clean off, scrub down, and set up the bed for the next admission.

...the nurse you didn't see couldn't help the parents at all.

the nurse you saw was laughing and cracking jokes about stupid, borderline insensitive, things as the nurse she helped earlier helped her as she restarted yet another IV in the puke-y kid for more medications.

...the nurse you didn't see had to laugh about something because it was either that or just cry.

the nurse you saw couldn't cry- at least not on the clock because the kids still needed to be fed and cleaned up again- after puking up everything you just fed them 5 minutes earlier.

...the nurse you didn't see was still holding back the tears, because in a way she just lost a child that night, too.  nothing at all compared to her parents- nowhere near it- but we lost, too.

the nurse you saw didn't sit down for more than 5 minutes until 0628 exactly. (those three 5-minute segments were strategically placed bathroom breaks).  literally every time she did sit down someone somewhere needed her immediately.

...the nurse you didn't see wasn't ever "there"- because she was always "somewhere" else, or moving from "here" to "there" and it was just more efficient to keep walking- or running- than try to sit and chart. 

the nurse you saw clocking out was tired and dizzy and struggling with the whole spectrum of emotions as well as a sudden drop of adrenaline, caffeine, and blood glucose-all concurrently.

the nurse you didn't see was driving well below the speed limit because she couldn't see.  everything was blurry.

the nurse you saw, and maybe were driving behind and trying to pass, was already a mess before the shift.

the nurse you didn't see-believe it or not- sometimes has a life outside the hospital and things there were fraying at the edges  before  the shift started, so you can just imagine how her face looked stopped at that red light. well, probably better not- it's not pretty.  she stayed in the car, parked in the driveway, for another half hour to calm down, praying, thinking, processing, crying it out, hoping the red eyes wouldn't attract attention from the roommates, not having a word to offer as explanation.

the nurse you saw did all those things you thought she did, and is at least as lucky as you think she is- but not for the reasons you may have thought.

yeah, it's a job. a job that takes up weekends, holidays, nights, hours on-call, late-night take-out orders, phone calls and texts at 2 am, sore feet, headaches.

but it's more, and completely different. i guess the super-spiritual, cool word to use would be "calling." we are called because we love it, and we love it because we are called to it.  over and over and over again, knowing that we are constantly one heartbeat away from having another shift like this one.

it's more than a privilege, even on those mind-blowingly wretched nights that threaten to beat you down into the floor. 

because those are also the nights when our team of nurses would put Jack Bauer to shame.  and because we were able to see the victory on one side of the unit, even while dealing with a defeat on the other side.  those victories are what make it so worthwhile. seeing a patient hold down a feeding, gain a whole whopping 15 grams, breathe for himself, outgrow a preemie onesie- the things nobody else spends a thought on- those are our victories and what i hold on to.  there is sickness, disease, pain- a whole fallen world plagued with sin and trauma- but i get to fight back, wielding prayer and hemostats like weapons.

i can't explain it any better without writing a book, but i also can't really think of anything else i'd rather have done that Thursday night, or anywhere else to do it, or anyone else to do it with, no matter what you call it or what you see of it. i usually just call it "nursing."