Exhausted

I don't get it. When will people understand that people are people and no matter what creed, race, religion, all are imperfect. I see the log in my eye and I understand that I am a girl who loves Jesus and cannot ever get it right. I can't love everyone all the time because frankly people are hard and sometimes nearly impossible to love. I tear myself apart wanting to yell at people forcing them to see my point for what it really is and knowing that I need to stay calm because slow and steady wins the race (not that I'm trying to win at anything).

The world wages a war, a war that no one on this earth will win. A war that says ALL Christians are the token children of hypocrisy and all things closed minded. A war that blames ALL Muslims for "holy wars" and terrorist attacks. A war that continues a battle for how our Earth began. A war that chooses to believe that ALL Atheists are unwilling to sit down and have a civilized conversation about God. A war that has confused love and obligation, faith and selfishness, intellect and ignorance.

It's exhausting, and I don't have an answer. I don't have answers to give people that don't believe the same as I do, otherwise my answer will be complete rubbish to their ears. I cannot give you the hard-nosed facts that you might be looking for...and no one else can either. My life revolves around one thing and one thing only: Serving Jesus with all I have.

My life does not revolve around church buildings, it does not have anything to do with multi-million dollar building funds. Nothing about my life has anything to do with what style of music you choose to play or how many people attend one congregation. It has nothing to do with an "experience" in a church. Oh and get this...the church building you stand in is not holy ground. God does not live there, get over it, it's just a brick building with a lot of fancy things in there. Also...and here's a kicker:

I don't need to see you just tell Bible stories from the pulpit. I need you to TEACH BELIEVERS HOW TO GO AND DISCIPLE because the world is dying. First and foremost I need leaders in churches to disciple their already existing believers. We don't need a feel good ceremony, nor a shaming ceremony.

The world wages a war. It rages a war because not many people how to love properly, and they don't know how to love generally. Stick with me as I, an imperfect follower of Jesus, am preaching to the choir. We are called to love the unbelievers and judge other believers out of LOVE and COMMITMENT to one another, not out of jealousy or hate. 

The war wages because we have yet to show the world who Jesus really is.

No, my life does not revolve around the word, or title "Christian" in fact I would be relieved if the word would be blotted out of existence forever. Can you tell I'm exhausted? Can you tell in the short life I have lived that I have come to some conclusions that even though men told me to believe some things that maybe...just maybe I might have found a better way? Maybe I have found that religion is like barnacles on the pilings of a pier. Adding on this and that, wavering here and there. Maybe I don't agree with some things being said from the pulpit on Sunday mornings, and maybe I don't agree with how clean the strategy of the church seems to be. I believe no religion, I have only one master in whom came life, and through whom sustains life. A master who loves and wants to be loved in return. A master who listens and responds. A master who is a rightful judge, and grace-filled one at that. 

I have the Words of my God, my Savior, and my Guide, who are one in the same. We call him Jesus, we call him Father, we call him Holy Spirit. You want me to fight with you about close-mindedness, homosexuality, Islam and jihad in the name of this religion, abortion, the big bang theory, or any other hot button thing in today's many world wars? Go ahead, I'm not going to fight you. I'm not into proving you wrong, or prove you right. You won't get to know me this way, and even if you don't want to know me or truly grasp what I believe why would I start a screaming match with you that neither of us will win? It's counterproductive on all sides. 

I'm not into fighting. Yes, I'm a soldier in this, but I'm not pointing any guns, just call me a field nurse. As for those fighting for the Church, we aren't called to fight flesh, so stop throwing grenades at those you want to share the Gospel with. This, too, is counterproductive. 

I'm torn to shreds at the way many of us reflect Jesus. He entrusted us with a task and we have adorned it with which type of worship music God accepts, and the young and old have their separate services (and the older generation wonders why the younger is sometimes so intolerant or disrespectful of their ways...you haven't taught them! You choose separation! And vice versa.) I am exhausted. 

If you found this harsh...maybe it was, or maybe you find it convicting. Maybe you agree with me. I'm not looking for affirmation. This may have been all over the place, it does feel like a little bit of my frustrations exploded, but there it is. 

I am called to love, and I accept this calling for what it means; to love. Yes, it's hard, nothing about this following Jesus business is easy...He didn't say it would be. In my life I am trying HARD to revolve everything around Jesus. It's a choice and choosing yes means going all in, giving no one a reason to dislike Jesus because of how you have portrayed him and those who love him. Yes, we are all imperfect and we will make mistakes, don't ever let anyone think otherwise as if you are above them, without sin. 

I am trying to swallow my own words. Go follow Jesus and abandon everything else that hinders you from this.

All to God

Tug O' War

We took something of a trip to Vienna, Austria this past weekend. Mainly for a routine 3 month "no more cancer" check-up for Beth (all is well!). Among all the public transportation that Vienna offers that is just so foreign to a girl who has to hop in the car make sure there is enough gas to get to the nearest Wal-Mart 20 minutes away from her home in the States, I had some time to think. If you have been following me on this crazy blog adventure that seems to never truly have a direction and are simply the wanderings of a young girl trying to figure out what it seems most people already have sorted out, you'll know that thinking is one of my favorite things and sometimes one of the worst things for me.

I was amazed to think that I have been here in Europe for a little over two months now. Even more amazed to think that I have no plans of leaving any time soon. I am triple amazed that God has opened this door to work in a land so rich in history, culture, and language. I am quadruple amazed by the people I know now and the directions and connections God has put in my path to these people. It's a bit flirty of me to say that here, I feel like adventure is at the doorstep, but it's true. I'm not saying that this life is better than any other's, what I am saying is that God couldn't have taken my heart into consideration more than he has knowing where I would be helpful and in what context.

It's a passion that plays a tug o' war (this came from my time to think). One side pulling towards this work in this place, and the other pulling towards a place far away that you call home. It's especially tense when issues are arising and have risen back home. The yearning to wrap your arms around hurting family members as life is not the same for them as it was before. Then there is the other side of the tension pulling just as hard; the passion and proclamation of a love so deep there is none like it.

And my heart aches for both.

However, I am confident in God's plan and while my heart is torn apart for issues beyond my tangible reach back home, I know that God has me here allowing me to trust in him more and then some. I do not question whether I should be here or at home during this time or not, I am sure this is where I am to be right here, right now. My heart is broken for a thing unsaid, but my faith is strong in Him who mends all things in His time which is perfection. I live in Europe, doing what I love most with some really great godly people and I could not be more blessed. It's not all roses over here either, but let's just say with what I get to wake up to, and the people I get to spend time with, and my God I get to serve, I have no room to complain.

But I do ask you my dear people, to pray for this unsaid thing concerning people back home. Thank you for your prayers...always...and never forget that.

All to God

Dirty Feet

There is something I do quite often here at night before I'm ready to go to bed. There are many nights I look down at my feet and think "this is unacceptable." The undersides of my feet will, quite frequently, look like I have been walking barefoot on dusty asphalt all day. It is only then that I realize that I don't want to put my nasty feet in my bed, so I go to the bathroom, hoist my legs over the tub, and wash them clean and pink as ever.

When I was in the States my feet didn't get nearly as dirty and I wore the exact same pair of flip-flops then as I do now. There have been a few variables that have changed to alter the cleanliness of my feet so dramatically. It is common to see me walking down the road rather than riding in a car because we don't have a car to ourselves. Much of the time our mentors need their car for this or that, and sometimes if we are going to the same place we can hitch a ride, but mostly our travelling is of the ambulatory sort.

Mostly the roads we walk down are main roads with cars zipping by; and the theme of the city seems to be construction these days. So dirt and dust flies around in the areas where they are installing roundabouts that another lovely foreign government paid for, and most days we walk through these places. There are plenty of times that we walk down a gravelly dirt road especially when we are in the villages to help with the overall visual of how my feet look by the end of the day. However, I cannot discount that my flip-flops are black and thus the blackness may be wearing off onto my feet. Oh, and the heat of the day doesn't help the sweating.

But why am I going on and on about the grossness of my feet in this post? Because I have drawn a strange but simple love for washing my feet. I feel cleaner, more relaxed, granted...even a little happier when my feet are clean. It's no wonder it was a cultural norm in the Bible after a greeting and a kiss from the host, providing water and sometimes a servant to wash the feet of the guests. There have only been sparse times in my life where I have looked at my feet and counted their state unacceptable, however it happens much more consistently here. I don't know how to say this without sounding really REALLY dorky but it does give me a little bit of a peace.

After I wash my feet I look at the cloth I used and it is filthy, and many times I imagine the sinful woman who washed Jesus' feet with her hair. I imagine how gross Jesus' feet must have been and how she gladly took away the dirt with her hair. It makes for some perspective on how precious Jesus truly is to the world. A woman whose body was likely her livelihood took it upon herself to go into a Pharisee's home and kneel down, publicly crying, using the water of her tears to first wash his feet, and then using the hair on her head to wipe them clean, all the while knowing and believing that he is the Savior of the world and caring for him so delicately. It's amazing.

Yes, these are the things I sometimes think about when I wash my own feet. You may think I am a strange person if you so wish. These have been my thoughts and ponderings in the short moments that I wash my feet and get ready for bed. May God remind me more of the happenings in his Word as I go about my daily life.

All to God