You've read about the Aunt's Life. This page is dedicated to the Aunt's Walk.

Saturday, May 14, 2016

Let My People "Go"


I did something rebellious this week.  I'm a right-leaning Christian and I shopped at Target!

I've been avoiding the whole "bathroom issue" on social media for as long as I possibly could. (Which, trust me, I'm usually the initiator of all things potty talk. This showed great restraint on my part.)



Then, this week, "the" letter from the White House was published and a whole new influx of ignorance exploded online.

Well, if the noisy minority gets to have their say, then I justly have equal rights to voice my common sense, er... opinion.

I'm obviously referring the issue of where transgender folk are allowed to pee. 

If I were reading that sentence from the eyes of any other generation, past or future, my first thought would be, "Is this what has come of the great America?! They've become so sparse on things to be offended by that they tried to take away a human's right to vacate their bowels and bladders?" 

And, yes. My past/future self would be correct. Apparently, that is what this nation has come to.

Well, I can sense that the imaginary blood pressure meter I've connected to this blog post is starting to rise through the roof. But, stick with me. I've suffered through your opinions for long enough. Take a quiet moment to sit through mine.

Here are some things to consider on this issue:

Everybody pees: The missed point of those opposing the right to choose which restroom one identifies with, is that the whole topic exists because people need to pee and poop. Whatever spin you're putting on this debate is simply spin. Any imagined fear over what else may possibly happening in public restrooms makes me wonder if you've ever set foot in one. Everybody poops. Everybody's got to do it somewhere.

That's not how bathrooms work: It seems that the women's room is the facility that is worrying protesters the most. As a woman who frequents a female potty multiple times daily, let me address this fear for those who have never had a peek in there.

To the men who stand at urinals, with their junk on display for all to see, know this: The women's room has nothing but stalls.

Here's an additional anatomy lesson for you: We have to sit down for anything we do in there. We don't have urinals. We don't see each others private parts. We're behind closed doors for the entire show. And, those doors even lock! This is why someone may feel safer in here. It's a private space. 

Something else to consider: Any new rules or regulations has not made your children "rapist bait" any more than they were before, because they aren't in there alone! Mothers don't allow that. Many mothers even have their sons in there because some men don't want to be bothered with that chore. If we want to start a protest, how about "Equal Shares of Diaper-Changing Duties Between Dads and Moms"? Because your toddler is crawling under my private stall.

How would you even know? Last I checked (yesterday) there was no bouncer at the women's room door. No one was signing in pee-ers by driver's license or birth certificate. And, I'm so thankful that no one was checking for proof of genitalia to register my toilet use. I had to go! I didn't have time any of that nonsense. And, you know what? I didn't even see another living soul in the 90 seconds it took to do my business. If I had, would I have even known their "true" gender? Probably not. They've been peeing somewhere for all these years and have succeeded at being discreet about it. 

Laws and written rules allowing fairness are not legalizing sexual assault: Let me now address those who swear up and down that they're not discriminating against transgenders, but against those who are pretending to be. 1.) Are you really? 2.) Because, that really doesn't seem to be the case. 3.) This is the strangest attempt at trying to sound politically correct I've ever come across.

Let's just call a spade a spade. You're uncomfortable with the idea of a human being "spayed". (Come on! At least give me credit for the pun!)

It's the twenty-first century and it's high time we stop being intimidated by everything that's different than yourself. So, you don't understand it? That's okay! I don't wholly either. I was born female and identify as female, so it's not a topic I've had to struggle through. You can either choose to educate yourself on the topic or choose to ignore it. But, what you can't do is take away the human rights of someone, just because you don't understand them or agree with their way of life.

Most crimes involving transgenders are ones where they are the victim. This is the issue at hand here. Allowing someone to relieve themselves in a safe and private environment. This does not make it legal for any man in a dress to army crawl underneath stalls peeking and touching at whatever he pleases. If someone really tries this, he will be kicked in the face by a high heeled shoe! Dumb move. Illegal move. He's going to jail.  

Maybe you're the perv: Who's dreaming up these scenarios, anyhow? And, aren't they kind of the perverts in this debate? The people who really scare me are the ones so vocal about who they think is in the next stall and what they think they're up to in there.

Why is your imagination going to such places? Are you having sex or doing questionable things in public bathrooms? If not, why do you assume that anyone else is? The only people I'm now worried about in the restroom, are the ones who are going to be taking it upon themselves to police the joint. I don't want anyone sizing me up and deciding whether they think I'm dainty enough to be a "real girl". I'm not the most delicate flower. Your assumptions may exclude me from using the women's room and I'm not okay with that.

This seems like a repeat of the homophobic rants I'd witnessed when gay marriage was the hot button topic of the day. "They're perverts!" "Do you realize what they do?" "It's disgusting!"

The simple answer to that is: Well, then, stop thinking about it so much!

For the record, I'm not picturing any of you in sexual scenarios with your spouses, boyfriends, girlfriends or lovers. So, why dwell so publicly on fantasies of what you think the people you're offended by are doing behind closed doors? That's between them, their partners and the Lord. 

You're not welcome into anyone else's bedroom or bathroom stall. When tempted to "preach" your opinions of others, take a moment to pause and focus on what the Bible preaches first: "...Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise." (Philippians 4:8)

God doesn't want us wasting so much time imagining what we think are the sins of sinners. Remember, "For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God." (Romans 3:23) We're all in the same boat. Do you want me dwelling on whatever I think you've been up to in your lifetime? Let's give each other a break and the benefit of the doubt. 

What Would Jesus Do? The most frightening part of this debate is the attempt to spin this into a Christian issue. Any church of any denomination trying to stir their congregation up into a frenzy over this has me in great fear over the reputation of all Christians. If you're a part of any religious ministry, you should already know this verse well: "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." (2 Timothy 1:7)

Your responsibility is to teach, guide and encourage your flock. Not to rustle up fear and anger amongst them. Teaching the Word is a great responsibility and God is watching very closely the example you lay forth. "My brethren, let not many of you become teachers, knowing that we shall receive a stricter judgment." (James 3:1) And, speaking of judgement, we all know what the Bible says about that not being our job either. (Romans 14:13, Matthew 7:1-5, Luke 6:37, James 4:11-12... shall I go on?) 

We all can agree that indoor plumbing did not exist in biblical times. There's no mention of bathroom matters in the Bible, so don't pretend that this is a biblical topic. They had to go wherever they went back then and I can venture to guess that it was a lot less private than the stalls you're so worried about today.

What we do know, though, is how Jesus treated others. He asked us to show more love to others than we show for ourselves. We can't do this by inciting fear. We're not doing this by regulating others' bodily functions. We're not showing this when we're misrepresenting Christianity on social media and in our political discussions. America has guaranteed us our freedom of speech. Be cautious of how you use this right. If you're going to throw the Bible on a topic, be sure you're taking note of who's words you're quoting, their context, and who you're representing in your statements.

It breaks my heart that there are people who hate Christians, just because they have come into contact with someone who has been misrepresenting us. Don't form a belief just because a pastor or teacher told you it was the right one. Don't repeat an opinion if you're not truly convicted of it. Your church leaders aren't your only spiritual resource. Search Scripture on your own if something doesn't sound right. Go to the Lord yourself in prayer for guidance if you're unsure. All humans are flawed. Pastors make mistakes and speak out of turn sometimes too. Don't be a blind follower. Because, blind followers who are vocal become false prophets. 

Target is the Bomb: Let's face it. If Target was clubbing baby seals in their restrooms, I'd probably still shop there. It's the closest grocery store to my house and they have the lowest prices on dairy in town.

You can disagree with me. You can unfriend me on Facebook, unfollow me on Twitter, or gossip about me in the gender-assigned restroom of your choosing. But, please, do me a favor and save your breath with me on this topic.

Whatever you say, whoever you vote for and whatever on earth you choose to believe, you will never ever convince me to be afraid to pee. 

Wednesday, June 10, 2015

Let Me Tell You About My Grandma...

Me and my gal.

My dear grandmother passed away this week.

She was my last living grandparent. She was 95 year old. And, once I tell you all about her, you're going to wish you would have known her yourself.

Some things you should know about my grandma. She was:

Brave: As a child, had you asked me if I thought my grandma was brave, I would have said, "No way! She doesn't swim and never even learned how to ride a bike. Her hair is always curled and she wears matching shoes and scarves. She's a girly girl. There's nothing brave about that!" I may not have said it all out loud, but I certainly would have thought it. Strongly.

But, once I became a woman, my grandma shared pieces of her story with me time and time again. The more she shared, the more my opinion of her grew.

Her parents were Swedish immigrants, fresh off the boat. Her mother embarrassed her growing up by saying things like, "Let's take the hiss to the third floor" instead of using the American term "elevator". She later felt sorry for her mother's struggles in this new land with Swedish being her native tongue and came to have empathy for the barriers that must have caused her. But, when you're a kid---even in the 1920's---you wish your parents would just be cool and use the common term for that man-sized box on the cables.

She grew up in Topeka, Kansas, surviving the Depression and later "running away" to Detroit. I wish I had paid better attention, so I could give you an age or a year... but just know that she traveled to Detroit to visit a friend and stayed here. Forever. Never looking back.

It was never clear to me if she traveled here knowing she was to never go home. Was her vacation really a plot? Was she escaping the Dust Bowl? (She was a very much a lady. She would have wanted to keep her dresses clean.) Or, did she just fall in love with the Motor City and cancel her return ticket? My guess is that she was likely in her early twenties, which would have made this the early 1940's. And, that's just not the kind of thing you think of respectable young women in the early 1940's doing.

She lived right in the city, in an apartment shared with an older female roommate. She lived dollar to dollar and ended up falling in love with a handsome Canadian named Elden. It's okay. Elden was my grandpa. So, this is a love story I'm allowed to know.

Elden was a bit older than Alice. (Alice is my grandma's name, by the way.) He already had an ex-wife and two children. But, boy, did he sweep her off of her feet! I remember her once swoonily telling me, "Oh, your Grandpa! I thought he looked just like Tyrone Power when we met!" I glanced over at the old man sitting across the room from us, with his big teeth, bushy eyebrows and probable cookie hidden in his breast pocket; and thought to myself, "Okay, Grandma. If you say so..."

Tyrone Power? Is that you?

So, here's my grandma. Hundreds of miles from home. A new wife. A young stepmother. And, soon to become a mother herself. That seems like alot of responsibility for someone of that age. In my generation, at least, it would have been! I was just starting to feel out my moxy in my twenties. She had fully taken on womanhood! Brave indeed.

She ended up having three girls of her own, which is pretty brave in itself. And, they were three girls from three different molds bearing three very different minds of their own (...just like their mother, now I know.) 

Judging by the stories I've heard, these kids seemed to do whatever they wanted. They were allowed to be adventurous, even if it sometimes meant stitches and/or broken bones.

Pile on the pets!
When I was a kid, we had to beg and barter just to bring one dog and one cat into the house. These girls had several dogs, actual piles of kittens, as well as rabbits and whatever else the cat dragged in (maybe, literally.) One even got away with bringing home a horse from the fairgrounds. A horse, I said! Was she grounded? No way. Just go build a corral and a barn so it has someplace to stay.

Piling pets on the horse!
Brave girls. That's the kind of daughters Grandma would like us all to raise.

My grandma and I had a special bond. I lived within blocks of her house my entire life (even right next door for about a decade.) So, I got in more "Grandma Time" than the average person. She graduated from authority figure to friend over the course of my lifetime.

Grandma loved men. I love men too, but my life never revolved around the importance of constantly being in a relationship. She spent the early half of my thirties saddened by the fact that getting married just wasn't at the top of my priority list. To the point that I came to think that she would never die until she saw me married off. In my mind, she could not leave this earth, until she saw I was "taken care of". In some abstract way, I credited her long life to me being stubbornly independent and never "settling down". But, I recently found out how wrong I was.

I'd never seen Grandma prouder of me than the day I announced that I had put money down on my own place. My own money. For my own home. This was during her first week in hospital, about a month before she passed. I had, after forty years, shown her my own moxy. I now realize that this made her prouder than if I had walked in with a diamond ring on my left hand. I had finally followed her brave lead. She knew I was going to be okay.

Struttin' it out in Topeka
Stylish: Grandma was a lady's lady and handled herself with a grace and poise I can and will never live up to. She was always put together. Always on her manners. She instinctively knew how to accessorize, from the days that she made her own clothing to the ones where she was able to raid the Hudson's store, downtown. She knew what she was doing and was known for it.

In the 80's she even had a full-length faux leopard fur coat that I secretly wished I would one day inherit. It's been long-since donated somewhere. *tear*

She once brazenly told me that she was the first person to put red and brown together. Have you seen that in a fashion magazine? Did you think your grandma started that trend? Well, you're wrong. Grandma was a humble woman and wasn't one to ever want credit for her accomplishments. But, whatever the deal was with brown and red... hands off! She's claimed it!

More struttin' in Topeka, this time with a friend!
(Is she wearing all black? Or, brown and red? We'll never know!)
Funny: We've always thought of Grandpa (the dreamy, Elden) as being the family comedian. You know those Canadians! But, Grandma subtly proved through the years that she could hold her own.


From the time in the 50's when the neighbor kid wouldn't leave her alone. Peppering her with inane questions left and right as she was just trying to fix her tea, already! She sprinkled in her artificial sweetener, holding in her patience, as the neighbor boy obnoxiously asked, "WHAT'S THAT STUFF YOU'RE PUTTING IN YOUR TEA?!" She calmly answered back, "L.S.D." and went on about her snack.

She didn't say it to entertain the kid. There was no audience around to chuckle at her wit. She was just giving herself a laugh to get through the day. Also, providing herself with the years-long amusement of wondering if the story made it home to his parents and are they imagining the sweet Baptist woman in the little white house on the corner tripping on psychedelics during her daily afternoon tea.

Snacking like a lady. But, what's that in her tea?
When Grandpa got sick with Alzheimer's, she told me about the importance of humor. He was doing strange things, not recognizing us all the time, making little sense when he talked and lost his ability to care for himself. She told me, "Kimmy, you've just got to find something to laugh about every day. If you don't, you'll do nothing but cry."

So, we laughed. We laughed at his quizzing us on who we were. We turned it into interviews. We laughed when he'd pet the arm of the wingback chair, thinking it was his beloved cat, George. We laughed as he asked me on a date to go dancing, because he didn't remember that I was his granddaughter. (He did a mean Charleston. You would have accepted too!) We laughed when he told us un-p.c. things about women and made up songs with words we weren't allowed to use.

We laughed our way through his disease, because Grandma gave us the permission to, so it was okay. And, that license helped us survive those hard years.


Even in her last weeks, she made me promise again to never lose my sense of humor. She begged, "Kimmy, never stop laughing. We need humor in this life." It was an easy promise to make and keep.

Especially, two days after her passing, when we opened her obituary to see dear Alice being referred to as a "Loving Father... Grandfather... and Great-Grandfather to fifteen." Oh, we're laughing Grandma. And, so would you be! 

Above all else, She wanted you to know about Jesus: 

Grandma was a Sunday School teacher when I was a child. I was even a student in her class, along with some of my siblings and cousins.

She grew up Presbyterian, but joined the Baptist church as a Detroiter. Christian is Christian, as far as I'm concerned. It doesn't matter the denomination, but this is how Grandma found God.

Coming to know the Lord was a turning point in her life. It gave her a holy purpose. It guided her conscience. It gave her comfort in times when the world just doesn't provide that for you. She knew the world's job isn't to look out for us, but God is begging to. That was the most important relationship in her life.

Because of her faith, generations of people have found faith and comfort in God. She insisted her family know about Him. Not always tactfully so, but this was a lesson and a priceless relationship that we were not going to miss out on, if she had anything to do with it!

Christianity teaches of salvation (going to Heaven when you die) by faith, as Ephesians 2:8-9 tells us that, "By grace are you saved by faith - this is not from yourselves, it is a gift from God - not by works, lest anyone should boast."

What drew Grandma to her Christian faith is the assurance it gave her in this salvation. You can know where you're going when you die. You don't have to guess. You don't have to hope. You don't have to cross your fingers and count your good deeds to feel God in your life and receive His gifts. You can actually tap into this guidance while on earth. You can have a living Comforter, when humans fail you. You can have peace in your soul over things others try to complicate.

Grandma loved to have conversations about God with other believers. She loved talking to others who have that bond of truly living with Christ in their lives.

We would talk about Heaven sometimes. Grandma was a secretary by trade and she always hated filing. She once told me of her fear that, when she gets to Heaven, she worries God will put her in charge of filing. I said, "Grandma! That doesn't sound like Heaven to me. Where do you think you're going to?" But, she was humble. She had a saving faith that would get her through the pearly gates, but not enough good works, she feared, to get her a sweet gig once she made it there. (Fingers crossed... Heaven has gone paperless by now.)

I told you Grandma was funny! All the good she'd done in life. All the kindness she showed toward others. She always worried, she didn't do enough. She didn't tell enough people about Christ. She'd outlasted all of her friends and peers, so her work must not be done on earth. What was she missing? She was becoming ready to go Home.

In all her worry that she didn't do enough, I watched as her family and former students and people that she had touched shared their seeds with others. Roots she'd planted in life ages ago, were now spreading across the world. People who may not have given God a second thought until they'd met her were now sharing the Good News with their children and their loved ones.

She continued to mentor me, maybe without either of us even realizing it at the time. I began to teach the little ones in my life. I learned to be less legalistic in my own faith. I learned not to sweat the small stuff and let God intercede. I began to allow others to know I had needs (I'm stubborn too!) and became humble enough to ask for prayer when I needed it.

But, Grandma's favorite lesson of all is what Baptists call the Sinner's Prayer. And, I'm going to briefly share that with you, so Grandma can plant a few more seeds even now that she's gone from this earth.

As mentioned, our salvation surely comes from our faith. The Sinner's Prayer is the way she came to declare her faith. (Me too!) I'm sure this is not the only way to come to declare one's faith or become a Christian; but we like it because it's simple, not overly-Theological, and it covers all the basis in what we call, the Roman's Road. (A path through the biblical book of Romans that outlines how to "get to Heaven" or "be saved".)

Step One: Acknowledging your sin. Romans 3:23 tells us that, "All have sinned and come short of the glory of God." We're bad, we're flawed. I don't think any of us could deny this. Even the holiest person you know has had a bad thought, a slip-up, or a moment of vanity that separated them from the perfection of God. This is an easy acknowledgement. To start the Sinner's Prayer, you simply tell God, "I know I'm a sinner. I know I'm not perfect." (Or, your own version of this profession. There are no magic words. Just, with honesty, tell God, "I know I can be bad.")

Step Two: Acknowledging where sin will get you and the help that He sent for us. Romans 6:23 says, "For the wages of sin is death; but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord." Romans 5:8, "But, God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Because we sin, we deserve to die one day. We deserve to be separated from God and His holiness. BUT, God sent to us a savior, His Son, Jesus Christ. To take on the death caused by our sins (think of the Good Friday story.) "While we were still sinners..." Even though He knows that we're never going to be perfect, He still offered that sacrifice for us, giving us a way to find eternal life. He's not waiting for us to straighten up our act first. He's not requiring any huge life changes to accept this gift. This leads to the next sentence of our prayer"I'm sorry for the bad I've done. I know I can't get to Heaven on my own. Thank you for sending Jesus as a way."

Step Three: Ask for it! Romans 10:9,"If you confess with your mouth, Jesus as Lord, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you will be saved." Not only did Jesus die for our sins. But, God raised Him from the dead (think of Easter) to conquer the permanence of death. He proved to us He has power over human death and is offering us eternal life in Heaven, if we're willing to take it. It's free! Romans 10:13, "For everyone who calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved." EVERYone. Not just the rich who can afford to give to charity. Not just the goody-goodies who aren't going to drink beer or have sex outside of marriage. Not just the people who commit their lives to professional ministry. ANYone who calls on God can go to Heaven. Even you! Just as you are. Last part of our prayer, "Please forgive me for my sins. I want to go to Heaven when I leave this earth. I believe that Jesus was your Son. I thank Him for dying to cover the price of my sins. I believe you rose Him from the dead and I accept your gift of salvation. I invite You into my life today."

Boom! If you prayed that prayer with belief in your heart, you're saved. Grandma would be so happy!

You now have access to God Almighty. He can give you peace when you ask for it in the most unbearable of circumstances. He can answer your prayers in the most unbelievable of ways. He can give you the best advice by helping you understand The Bible when you're reading it. And, He'll introduce you to my grandma when you go to Heaven one day.

She got to go Home! Not only did Grandma insist we all learn about Jesus all throughout our lives. She also ended her life proving that He's really here. This came as a great comfort to those of us who've ever wondered if we're wasting our lives believing in this guy so many refer to as a fairy tale.

In her hospice room, standing in the corner, she saw Him visit. Sometimes wearing a white robe. Sometimes in what she called His "work clothes". What His work clothes looked like, we may never know. She never described them beyond that. But, obviously, He was doing His work in them, so that's good enough for me!

She continued to tell people about God and about Jesus, even on her deathbed. I'll bet every nurse and aide that crossed the threshold of her hospice room heard her praise Him.

One day, when she saw Jesus visit her, He told her that she was going Home soon. And, He didn't lie. She went. He took her Home on Sunday, June 7, 2015.

He kept her here just long enough to inspire me to write this entry. Then her work was finally done. Because, she found one last way to tell someone about Jesus.

Sunday, November 2, 2014

When God is Gross


Two weeks ago, as I was beginning my nephews' Bible lesson, the eight year-old was trying desperately to get me to skip the chapter on Abraham. He claimed that he and his brother had already read it during the week. I hardly believed him and presented the challenge that if he could tell me one thing about Abraham and what he had "read", we would skip that chapter and move on to the next. 

Older brother sweated nervously as his Sunday school fate lied in his baby brother's questionable sense of recall. You could practically hear the eight year-old's brain shuffle as it rolodexed through stored memory, grasping for any tidbit he could recall on Father Abraham. He gasped suddenly and answered, very matter-of-factly, "Abraham Lincoln freed all the slaves." 

Older brother then slapped his own forehead in disappointment and we retreated back to Genesis 12.

That week's lesson was just the introduction to Abram, Sarai, his promised legacy of becoming the "father of many nations" and ending with he and Lot's land dispute.

They had dodged a bullet for one week, but the next Sunday I was met with the same dread after we had finished up chapters on the destruction of Sodom, the dismissal of Hagar and Ishmael and the birth of Isaac.

I was beginning to understand the distress that had been plaguing the boys ever since I'd mentioned the "A" word. I then realized that they knew the story of Abraham's willingness to sacrifice Isaac was approaching. They had remembered something about Abraham from past lessons and suddenly I was being treated as if I were forcing them to watch a horror movie in Bible class.

This is probably the biggest struggle I face when taking on the role of these kids' spiritual advisor. Trying to teach them everything I can about God while they're still young enough that I can hold their interest. But, then coming to terms with the fact that, sometimes, the Bible is just pretty gross.

There's animal sacrifices all over the Old Testament, murder, rape, genocide, plagues, those sickos in Sodom who begged to molest a pair of angels, dogs eating Jezebel, demon possession, suicide, the cruelties and abuses that Jesus and the other martyrs faced and, let's see, the entire book of Revelations!

I grew up in church singing songs about "There's power in the blood" and "Nothing but the blood of Jesus...", chewing on unleavened bread that represented Jesus's flesh and drinking grape juice that represented His blood (eww, blood... more blood!) and constantly hearing about a lake of fire that all my unrepentant friends were on the verge of being tossed into. Often creeped out, tormented and lying awake at night dwelling on these things; but never brave enough to simply ask:

Why so much horror? Why all the blood?!

I recently asked the oldest living Christian I know this and explained how I come to dread teaching the kids these things when I know one of these difficult chapters is approaching.

I got the typical biblical answer of "Only blood can atone for sin." [Leviticus 17:11] That we all are sinners. [Romans 3:23] That we cannot be saved by works. [Ephesians 2:8-9] That our sins have earned us death and only through Jesus's perfect sacrifice can we be forgiven and see Heaven one day. [Romans 6:23, Hebrews 9:11-18] 

I knew this. I've heard all the same Sunday school answers my whole life... but what I really meant was why why?

Why blood? Why something so messy and revolting? What was God thinking?!

I prayed on this and what was pressed on my heart was a question of an answer:

Does it even matter why?

The Bible tells us that we're not supposed to understand everything while in our human minds on earth. [II Corinthians 4:18] Do we really need to? Does our faith have no value without complete comprehension of all things holy?

I know mine does! I may not have all the answers, but I can guarantee my faith is real. God has proven to me several times over His existence, that He is here for my benefit and I have seen His love and protection at work in my life. Constantly! I don't need the whys. I just need God! 

It's a "don't knock it 'til you've tried it" journey that no one can relate to unless they're willing to personally experience it on their own.

So, I've chosen to educate the kids in a very different manner than what I was presented with as a child. They have come to love God and Jesus outside of all the blood and Lake of Fire talk. They chose salvation and Christianity before they had even heard me utter the word "hell". (And, believe me, the first time I read a verse with that word in it, they covered their mouths and pointed at me as if I'd just cursed at them!)

I don't skirt the issues, but don't focus on them as a main ingredient to our beliefs. There's so much more that our faith has to offer. We won't understand all things while on earth. But, we will live a great life here with God as a part of it. That's the most important part of my faith to me. Not just dodging hellfire.

That said, I'm not for omitting Scripture that makes me uncomfortable either. It's all in there for some reason. Even if we don't yet understand why.

On a practical level, when a chapter on blood sacrifice comes up and is upsetting to the animal-loving kids, I remind them that in the biblical days, everyone slaughtered their own meat. Sacrifice wasn't a thing of gore like it is to our modern mindsets, but an act of giving away the purest of their goods to God. This wasn't just a blood sacrifice, but an act of offering back to God something that was true goods and currency in their day. On these lesson days, we are always sure to thank God that he chose for us to live in the days post Jesus's resurrection, relieving us of the bloody duty.

If you have any tips, guidance or funny stories about navigating the gory biblical stuff, please feel free to leave your comments in the designated field below. Teachers must always remain students if they're striving to be good ones. And, I know my readers and myself would love the additional insight.

Saturday, March 15, 2014

Marks of a Pharisee


We've been studying the Gospels in the weekly Bible study that I lead with my brother's kids. Their takeaway seems to have two major sticking points: 1.) Jesus's Parables (ie. "story problems") and 2.) What jerks the Pharisees were.

The Pharisees have left a particularly bad impression on my youngest nephew, who is seven. Every time I read a passage indicating another haughty act of the Pharisees, he gets personally offended and groans out various versions of, "Ugh. They think they're so cool!" and "Augh! Why do they think they know everything?!" while dramatically rolling his eyes.

Then, there's always that point later in the day when he tosses off a, "My brother didn't clean him room, but I did." or "So-and-so at school did this, I would never do something like that!" I always immediately ask him, "Are you a Pharisee?" 

"No! They're jerks!"

"Then why are you acting like one?"

[insert shameful head hang]

The Pharisees were a great enemy to many of us in our Sunday School days. Then many of us grew up to act just like one.

How can we avoid becoming a Pharisee?  Watch out for these indicators:

Appearance's Sake: The Pharisees were famously always looking outward. We've learned this repeatedly from stories like Luke 7:36-50, where the woman "embarrassingly" wept at Jesus's feet. (That hussy!) In Matthew 9 when they were aghast that Jesus wasn't sitting at the "cool table". (Tax collectors, harlots and sinners, oh my!) In Matthew 23, where we see them prancing about town with their money and swag, while Jesus points out that they were much too invested in making lavish and public offerings, meanwhile rejecting the importance of justice, mercy and faithfulness. Or, that horrendously conceited prayer of the Pharisee in Luke 18:10-14 where he bragged to the Lord about of his own good deeds while taking it upon himself to loudly condemn the tax collector who prayed humbly and weepily nearby. 

Remember Christ's lesson in verse 14 that "...everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, but he who humbles himself will be exalted." 

This is still a modern day temptation. Some Christians may want to reach out to the lost; just not the dirty, the slutty, the addicted or the annoying.

Placing Rules Above Love: The Pharisees were very "black or white" in their practices. As far as they were concerned, there were no gray areas in the Law (to which they felt the need to add hundreds of their own on top of the Original Ten.) 

They wondered aloud why Jesus's followers didn't fast so much in Luke 5. They wondered why the disciples didn't wash their hands in accordance with their traditions in Mark 7. In Matthew 12 they gasped when the disciples were hungry on the Sabbath and dared to "work" by picking something to eat from a field. And, oh, the conspiracy that was propagated by the Pharisees in Matthew 12:10-14 when Jesus had the nerve to perform healing on the sacred day of rest! 

I remember, in my childhood Sunday School class, the conundrum of Rahab, the Cannanite, lying to spare the Hebrew spies lives came up. The teacher was stumped by our innocent questioning of "Well, isn't lying a sin?!" and she went to a church elder to seek out an answer to the complicated question we had posed. She came back with the deacon's reply that "Rahab shouldn't have lied. Lying is a sin. God probably would have protected the spies in some other way" and my stomach went sour.

I now realize, it was probably the Spirit cringing within me because Jesus clearly taught us in Matthew 22:36-40 that the greatest commandment is love. First, loving God with all of your heart, soul and mind; and secondly loving others as much as you love yourself. He tells us that "all of the Laws and the Prophets hang on these two commandments" of love (v. 40, NIV.) So wasn't Rahab showing love in her act? I think Jesus would say, yes. And, this is why she and her family were spared in the city's destruction and welcomed into God's people's tribe. (Not, to mention, blessed to be a part of Christ's lineage.) 

I still hear the lie of Rahab being debated today. It kind of makes me sad that her act of mercy is still being judged by sticklers of the Law thousands of years later, while she's been busy enjoying the glory of Heaven. 

Hindering the Cause: While the Pharisees were busy being judgy-McJudger-pants, they were simultaneously disrupting the progress of God's Kingdom. Jesus ripped into them big-time throughout Matthew 23, calling them blind guides, lazy, hypocrites and repeatedly threw at them the ultimate biblical burn of, "Woe to you!" (It's a great rant that fills up the entire chapter, filled with images of vipers, blood and plenty of exclamation points. Samuel L. Jackson couldn't perform righteous anger better!) What was it about the Pharisees that got Christ so worked up?

They were the leaders of the church at the time! Or, misleaders, as they should be called. Jesus warned the people that the Pharisees do not practice they preach. They want the honor, but not the dirt on their hands from the work. (I love Jesus's analogy that they, "...strain out a gnat and swallow a camel!" vs. 24, NAS. My nephews would be overjoyed to learn that Jesus worked bathroom humor.) 

In John 9 the Pharisees started kicking people out of church who claimed Jesus as Messiah. Particularly the blind man to whom Jesus had restored his sight. Instead of allowing all believers into the synagogue to worship, they decided to splinter the church instead. 

Division in the church, is obviously still an issue today. We hear of gays and their family members being excluded or abandoned. Political divisiveness is often a problem. Choice of worship music, the inclusion of percussion and/or instruments that run on electricity, turn some away and divide a congregation. Stances on war or pacifism can get the opposition worked up in the pews. 

This all in the place where we come to seek salvation, learn about Christ's teachings and be reminded of His commandment of love. Remember the purpose of the church, no matter what your neighbor may check on a ballot. The pettiness and misguidance of the Pharisees (as well as those acting the same in modern times) confuses the lost, misdirects the flock and disrupts the calling of Heaven.

So let's go through a checklist and see how we rate:
  • Do you care more about labels on clothing, the scent of a stranger, vocabulary, manners, or who has the cutest hat on Sunday, than you do about welcoming a new sheep into the fold? Then, you might be a Pharisee.
  • How do you feel about smokers, drinkers and swearers' spiritual statuses when they tell you that they're believers too? Do you have your doubts? Then, you might be a Pharisee.
  • Do you repeat things you read about your friends and acquaintances on social media to others, usually starting with the phrase, "Can you believe that so-and-so thinks/said/believes/voted for/lets their kids do..." You sound like a gossip. And, you might be a Pharisee.
  • When your wife asks you if she looks fat in these pants, are you "convicted" to state in all honesty, "You look fat in every pant" instead of saying with love that, "You always look beautiful to me"? Then, you might be a Pharisee.
  • Do you pick apart grammatical errors in friend's Facebook posts that were otherwise intended to be uplifting? Then, you might be a Pharisee.
  • Do you avoid interacting with those who have different opinions, politics, morals, backgrounds or social standings than your own? Then, you might be a Pharisee.
  • Are you overly-concerned with whether your friends immunize their children, breastfeed, eat gluten, watch ABC Family with their kids, allow secular music in their household or are otherwise getting too involved with their loving (but questionable, in your mind) parenting practices? You may be hipster. But, you might also be a Pharisee.
  • Do you compare your tithe, community service and charitable givings with others? You may be missing their secret service in your tally. And, friend, you might be a Pharisee!

I don't pretend to speak all of this from a higher standing. I was a Pharisee at least once this week. My grandmother was telling me over the phone about how alot of people wear jeans and tshirts to her church on Sunday mornings, to which I replied, "Ugh. It's God's house. Show a little effort!"

I was later convicted by the fact that they did show some effort. They showed up! And that I, too, could be such a Pharisee sometimes.


(Feel free to share your Pharisee story in the comments field below. We've all been there and we can conquer this together!)

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

Would-Like-to-Do-tions


I'm not a resolution kind of gal.  I'm not into making promises that I don't intend to keep. The Bible says that God delights in those who keep their promises (Proverbs 12:22), so I've always been a woman of my word. Of few words. Of very few promised and spoken words. 

If I ever make you a promise, know I've thought it through carefully and take it uber seriously. (With an act-of-God clause attached, of course.) It's nice to delight the Lord and others. It's not so nice to fake out.

Therefore in 2014, I resolve nothingI see everyone posting their vows today and it's all very inspiring. So in substitution, I'll instead announce my Would-Like-to-Do-tions for this year:

  • Follow the THINK rule (above) more often before speaking. Stop trying to convince myself that "is it funny?" is one of them. If there were an F in think, it'd be fink. Don't be one!
  • Blog more. BOTH blogs. People are forgetting that I know more than just the state of pop culture.
  • Sew more. The Christmas gift rush of quilts was back-breaking work, but satisfying. Practice makes perfect. One day the binding will come out even and the quilt-stitching free of lumpy seams!
  • Taper off on the holiday feeding frenzy. More protein, less carbs. And what is a hypoglycemic doing with all of those sugary snacks? No wonder I'm feeling so lop-sided and sleepy. Nightly nacho snacks are also a holiday binge. There are no holidays left this season. Cut it down to maybe 2-3 times a week.
  • Exercise more. Because everybody says this. And, let's face it, I need to.
  • Go see a couple movies. Award season is upon us.
  • Save my way closer to home ownership. I'd like to finally see if all of this stuff can fit into one place.
  • Even though I've been scratching and saving, I should allow myself at least one vacation this year. Even if it's just a weekend trip. Even if it's just one county over. Responsibility is making me a little stir crazing.

Wait! I do have one resolution I know I can follow through on and that I am not ashamed to solemly vow for fear of punking out later:

  • I vow to trim my bangs. They are starting to get in my eyes.

Happy 2014! Make it true. Make is helpful. Make it inspiring. Make it necessary. Make it kind. (And, maybe a little bit funny too...)

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Favorite Passages: Proverbs 30:7-9


My favorite books of the Bible have always been Proverbs and James.  Mainly because my learning style never required story problems or parables, just cold hard facts and truths.  These two books rise to the top for me for their practicality alone.  I love how they're full of "do this" and "don't do that"s.  It makes figuring out right from wrong a no-brainer and so they are the two books I turn to the most often when biblical joy-reading.

One of my favorite passages is found near the end of Proverbs, right before the famous 31st chapter. 

"Two things I ask of You, do not refuse me before I die: Keep deception and lies far from me, give me neither poverty nor riches; Feed me with the food that is my portion, that I may not be full and deny You and say, 'Who is the Lord'; or that I not be in want and steal and profane the name of my God." Proverbs 30:7-9 (NASB)

The thirtieth chapter of Proverbs was written by a man named Agur, who describes himself this way in verses 2-3, "Surely I am more stupid than any man... neither have I learned wisdom."

I love how a man with this self-description was entrusted to pen a chapter in the ultimate book of wisdom.  A major running theme throughout God's Word is that you don't have to be a theological genius to understand or obey It.

The simple idea of rejecting lies and the struggles of money and asking God to protect you from outside forces in these areas is the epitome of "simple wisdom."  I bet Agur was a very contented man who led a very joyful life.

I jotted this passage down on a note card over a decade ago when I was in a horrible job situation and taped it to my mirror.  It became a daily prayer of mine for many years.  Quickly after discovering this prayer (with my eyes and heart) I found myself miraculously in a much better workplace, not to mention mindset.  I was feeling like Agur!

Well, I let this passage slide from my forethoughts over the following years.  I rotated different passages on my mirror... sometimes forgetting about them altogether so they became more like decorative touches than inspiration and instruction.  And have rediscovered it now at a time when I find myself, once again, looking for good work.  Only this time in a very bad job market.

In the good ol' days it took 2-3 weeks to find a job when just casually looking.  I'm going on five months now of joblessness and wish I would have had the attitude of Agur earlier on in the process. 

When you're desperate and grasping, you're not often thinking in proportion.  You're not looking for your "portion" of money, but all the money in the world.  You become obsessed with being set for life instead of being set for now because, what if the next job's bottom falls out? What if you only can find temporary work?  What if this all happens again, taking even longer to recover next time?  Desperation hinders wisdom and, more often than naught, common sense even.

Truth be told, I have been given my portion.  For every day of the five months I've been unemployed.  I have yet to ask for loans or charity and my portion mathematically should satisfy me for the coming few months, if need be.  I've been eating steadily, have a roof over my head, a car to get to job interviews in and have been blessed not to have gotten sick or injured while not medically insured.  I've had enough to make ends meet.  How long this will last shouldn't be of concern because, as Christ instructed, "Do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own." (Matthew 6:34)  And today, July 5, 2012 is cared for.

Well, I guess I found the answer to my Publisher's Clearinghouse prayers, since in my original prayers for portion I forgot to mention a heaping one!

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Jesus Wasn't Baptist: Division in the Church

"Jesus wasn't Baptist, Jesus wasn't Catholic, Jesus wasn't Adventist, Jesus wasn't Presbyterian, Jesus wasn't Mormon and Jesus wasn't Methodist. What does an enemy do when he can't conquer?  He divides."

The above was a Facebook status update I composed about a year ago which, as you can safely assume, didn't get very many "likes".  People like their religious titles and people like to think they are the best.  And, they really don't like it being implied that Satan's sneakiness has penetrated any kind of breach in their holy ways.

It wasn't meant to be a judgmental statement, just one that made people stop and realize that there is a division in the Christian church.  If there wasn't, we wouldn't have different words on the signs out in front of them.

You see, I grew up thinking that Catholics weren't going to heaven, that some Lutherans weren't (particularly the ones who sprinkled their babies instead of dunking their grown-ups) and that pretty much only the Baptists had things entirely figured out. Maybe some Presbyterians.  (The ones who didn't drink alcohol, at least.)

I don't know why, as a child, I thought these things to be true. Whether I assumed them, was explicitly told them, if it was preached to me or if I simply just dreamed these rules up on my own.  I didn't even wholly believe it in my heart.  Most of my school friends were Catholic!  I just for some reason thought, to be a "good" Christian, I was supposed to train myself to feel that way.  And, it's very embarrassing to admit to it decades later... let me make that absolutely clear! 

***Also let me slip in this disclaimer before the hate mail floods in: This is not Baptist church doctrine. Just something I misunderstood as a youth and knew many others who misunderstood this as well.***

Do you ever stop and wonder if Christ is sitting on the right hand of our Lord right now, wondering what in His name did happen to His church?

"The church" in biblical days was simply the body of believers as a whole.  Somehow, over the centuries, the bones of this body have splintered off into too many fractures to count.  One building disagreed with another building and formed their own title to separate themselves from the others.  One preferred to focus on confession, one preferred to be solely evangelistic, while another decided that speaking in tongues was the bees knees.  This congregation will be drinking grape juice, not wine with their communion.  That congregation thinks unleavened bread tastes like flesh.  These pews have hat-wearers, those pews have covered knees and that auditorium has no pews, but folding chairs occupied with denim and tattoos. 

Some tweak the doctrine to suit their own needs. This group, omitting Scripture that is no longer politically correct.  Others, using that same Scripture (via megaphone) as a vessel for judging and condemning the politically correct.  This group is angry, that group is blissful, this group will protest, another group will meet at the bar after services.  Some meet on Sundays, some meet on Saturdays, others are overly ambitious and show up every morning or night.  And, too many think that all the others are wrong.

On my ride to teach my niece and nephews Sunday School each weekend, I can pass no less than a half-dozen churches in my fifteen minute drive.  All Christian, all different denominations.  This could be thought of as a sad thing; that these believers, all living in the same community, can't agree enough on what the Bible says to meet under one large communal roof.  But, instead I choose to be grateful that, in this day and age, people are still choosing to read the Bible at all.

It's great that believers can select a place of worship of their choosing; one where the music and preaching style suits their learning curve best.  We just have to be careful to stop saving one another from the others' congregation.  There's no bigger religious pet peeve of mine than other churches showing up on my doorstep and trying to convince my family that we're not truly saved, because we haven't been saved by their church yet.

Christ commissioned that we, "Go into all the world and preach the gospel..." (Mark 16:15)  Not that we should seek out those who say they already believe, tweak their convictions ever so slightly so they believe more correctly, and then transfer their tithes to your own church's building fund.

Division is not of God.  Christ made that clear in John 18:20-23.  The biggest confusion about the devil is believing that he's an Atheist.  He believes in God, he's just opposed to God.  Satan knows of God's existence.  He's met Him.  He knows that Jesus is God's son.  He can quote Scripture better than most humans and proved this when tempting Christ in the wilderness.  Christ was perfect and strong enough not to be fooled by twisted theology.  Many humans are not and that's when the enemy claims his small victories.

When the numbers are too large an enemy's best strategy is to divide.  So he whispers to the weak, making them feel stronger in the misbelief that they are better then the rest of the pack and need to break away.  He convinces the self-righteous that they're allowed to judge the holy and publicly condemn them.  He deceived our ancestors long ago into splintering the bones of the body of the church and left them in hundreds of piles to oppose their own.  And, it was to the enemy's delight when a little girl cast doubt that her friends might not be really believers because they went to catechism during the week instead of to Sunday school.

Children create big ideas out of small impressions.  Sending them to Sunday school (or catechism) is not enough.  Be sure to lead a non-judgemental example in the home as well.  Children, as well as new or immature believers of age, need to be milk fed before given meat, as I Corinthians 3 implores.

Put whatever sign you want on the front of your church, but remember that all churches teaching God's Word is what makes up the body of Christ.  Be on the same team whether your head is covered, your knees are showing or your denim is torn.