One big domino rally.

I couldn’t sleep last night. In fact, I have trouble sleeping a lot of nights. Today I started to realize that maybe it isn’t 100% bad — that maybe I was meant to be up, alone in the quiet. When’s the last time you stood still? …somewhere quiet, the place that people fear. What’s so scary about the silence? It’s because when the silence sinks in, it’s just you and your thoughts. And that’s a scary place.

In the midst of confronting my inner thoughts, I found myself in complete awe. An image popped into my head and all I could do was tell God how big He is and how thankful I am that He’s so big.

Domino Rally. That was the image. Read more »

Yes, thank you for the pamphlet, where is the trash can?

If you were to die right now, at this second, do you know where you’re going to go?

This question, and its close variants (”If you were to die in a car crash tonight, are you sure you’re going to Heaven?”) were dogged on for a second at church today. Literally, only a second, but the very mention of it made a lot of people chuckle aloud. I’m guilty of falling for this tactic and using it as well. But is it efficient?

I live on a day-to-day basis, barely planning for anything weeks in advance. Oddly enough, I think I’m a big picture type of kid. What’s the point of doing something right now if in twenty years it won’t matter? It’s my explanation for my lack of short-term dating, tendency to stray from impulse purchases, and why my bed is made only a few days out of the year. And I think it’s why that question did provoke me long before I started following Jesus Christ.

But some people can’t afford to think big picture. Some people are starving right now, hurting right now, empty right now. One of their basic needs is not being met. It’s hard to explain Jesus to someone who hasn’t eaten in days. Or to someone high on meth. Or to someone who’s heart has just been broken, or has been broken for a long, long time. So that question, “If you were to die tonight, where do you think you’ll go?”

Don’t be surprised if the answer is, who cares?

Read more »

Why circles suck.

I’ve been thinkin’. This whole month I’ve been studying Ecclesiastes, observing life in general, and picking apart my own life. If you ever want an early mid-mid-life crisis, read Ecclesiastes, ha ha.

A friend and I had a discussion once about circles. She would comment on how everything seems to come around “full circle.” And that didn’t jive with me. Something in my inner most being hated thinking that life and the little circles within life started at point A and will end at point A. I even came up with my own little theory that maybe life is more like an EKG; you start at point A, have a load of ups and downs, but grow, progress, and end at point B. The very fact that we didn’t end up in the same place made my little heart a little happier.

But then I read Ecclesiastes and in the very first chapter, Solomon, the second wisest dude to have ever walked the planet basically said, LIFE IS A CIRCLE. The sun comes up, goes down, comes up. I eat, but ten minutes later I’m hungry again. I get clean and ready so I can get clean and ready the next day. And the next. And the… well, you see why my inner most being hated her “full circle” comment. You end up feeling stuck in a rut. And no one likes a rut.

Solomon is pretty much a Debbie Downer for a good part of Ecclesiastes. “Vanity of vanities!” “Everything is meaningless!” We can dress to impress, reach a fine status quo, work hard, play hard, but what the heck for? You and I, whoever you may be, we’re going to end up in the same place. Dead. Full circle. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, right?

I picture people as little squirrels, gathering up our little nuts like mad, some of us succeeding in making huge, huge piles. And some of us envy those big piles and some of us keep to ourselves, just gathering enough to get by. But then we die, leaving our piles behind, huge and small. That’s it. Rinse, rather, repeat with the next generation, the next batch of nut-gathering animals. Poor little squirrels. Perhaps we’re related to the hamster in the wheel?

Anyway. I kept reading Ecclesiastes and got bummed out. But then I realized that Ecclesiastes wasn’t the end all. Solomon merely asked all the right questions but even with all that wisdom, could not find the right answers.

The answer came later.

There is a way to break out of the neverending circles. There is a way to find meaning in a seemingly meaningless life. There is a way. It’s hope. Hope that there’s something more out there than what’s under the sun. It’s only then when we can start to look outside of the circle, beyond the sun, and learn to truly enjoy life.

Sounds easy enough, right?

Last Friday.

I attended a funeral for a man I didn’t know. A man I had forgotten I had met once and only spent two minutes with. A man I didn’t hear much about and only knew my name and association. One step away from being a total stranger. But as the service went on, I felt like I knew this man intimately. And I wept. I wept not only for his mortal death, but I wept because I was joyful. And maybe a little jealous. This man, who once lived a life for Christ could now live a life with Christ. Forever. Who wouldn’t be happy for him and feel a slight bit of jealousy about that!

My heart hasn’t been the same after this weekend. My flesh hasn’t exactly mirrored what my heart started to (re)desire, but my heart desires Christ as its King. I felt a strong desire to have God know my heart and so badly to hear Him say, “Nina, you are after my heart just as much as I’ve been after you.”

Out of the many, many things I could say about last Friday, I won’t forget how the Golden Rule (”Do unto others as you would have them do unto you”) was rephrased.

Love God first.

Love others second.

And if there’s anything else left, love yourself.

Should I stay or should I go now?

While waiting for a client to show up, I pulled out my handy dandy work phone equipped with the world wide web. My confession: I haven’t picked up the Bible in a few months. I’ve been reading The Ragamuffin Gospel and Blue Like Jazz every now and again, but never from the source of it all. So today I broke the separation.

I didn’t know what to read and the phone’s screen is so tiny, but Philippians just seemed to call my name. Impatient and without my stylus, I just decided to start at the beginning. Chapter 1. So I’m reading and reading and am reminded about how much Paul was an amazing character. I mean, who else is happy that he is in chains for Christ? “Hey guys! I cannot see my family, I’ve got these cuffs on my arms, and I have no idea when I will get out of this place. But I have Jesus. And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” Oh, that crazy Paul.

But the passage that grabbed a hold of me was Philippians 1:21-26.

For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain. If I am to go on living in the body, this will mean fruitful labor for me. Yet what shall I choose? I do not know! I am torn between the two: I desire to depart and be with Christ, which is better by far; but it is more necessary for you that I remain in the body. Convinced of this, I know that I will remain, and I will continue with all of you for your progress and joy in the faith, so that through my being with you again your boasting in Christ Jesus will abound on account of me.

I don’t know why I’ve never really paid attention to those verses before, maybe so I could appreciate them now, but what Christian has never said, “I wish I could just die right now and go to Heaven and be with the Lord. Away from sin, away from pain, away from fear…” But this Paul guy. He’s madwhack. He knows to be in Heaven is “better by far,” but he chooses to stick around and continue with his “fruitful labor.” Why? Because He loves Christ so much, Paul wants to let everyone - and I mean everyone - know about his love for the Lord and the Lord’s love for him. No matter the cost.

I sometimes wonder why I came out of my car wreck laughing instead of compacted with the rest of my Mustang. And honestly, there are few times that I wish I was compacted. At that point in my life, all was good, me and God were pretty tight, I had amazing sisters in Christ that built me up, and I could’ve ended on a good note. But here I am. Troubled little Nina in a little valley wanting desperately to be on top of the hill again, wanting desperately to take my friends up with me too…

I guess in a way, I feel tied down in chains. But I can’t let that stop me from loving God and spreading the Truth.