Much Sense, and the Best of Friends

Hello, friends.

Monday was Nonsense, Tuesday was Some Sense, which makes today Much Sense. I asked a good friend what I should write about today, and she thought about it for a minute, and then she said, "Woof." I'm not sure what that means...

She also told me to watch the Lenten devotional video from Hales Corners Lutheran Church and write about that, so here goes!

The title of the video was "Love is... honest."

That actually resonates with me quite a bit. My closest friends are the ones with whom I feel safe being honest - whether that honesty is positive or negative. I like to use words of affirmation, but frequently I'll say them in a joking tone for fear of... what, I'm not sure exactly. With my closest friends, I do everything in my power to make sure they know how much I love and appreciate them. I
also like to point out things that aren't good for my friends. If I know they're doing something potentially harmful to themselves, whether physically or psychologically or spiritually, I bring it up. I don't let those things slide with my people. They're my friends! I love them too much for that.

That's how God treats us. He's way better at it than I am, obviously. He is always honest with us. He tells us how He really feels about us - His words of affirmation are found everywhere in the Bible, even the very first chapter:

"And (on the day He created humanity) God saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was very good." -Genesis 1:31

We are very good, God's most precious creation, the one He formed in His own image. He loves us so much that we can't even imagine it.

Of course, God is also not willing to let us do bad things. He speaks to us plainly about anger, lust, divorce, retaliation, greed, anxiety, and judgment - and that's just in the Sermon on the Mount alone. God is not okay with it when we harm ourselves or others. He tells us exactly how He feels about that.

Honesty, to me, is the best form of friendship. Sure, good friends make jokes and help you move and feed you pizza, but they also can be trusted with the things that weigh heavy on your heart.

God is that friend for you. He loves you, and because He loves you, He will always be honest with you, and you can always be honest with Him. Lent is the perfect time to reflect on that.

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Whoa, what a shift, eh? See, I can still write serious blog posts. Tomorrow, however, look forward to some punny jokes.

Coping Mechanisms

Hello, friends.

In troubled times, I have a small collection of coping mechanisms.

1- Binge-watching shows on Hulu/Netflix. For reference, ask me any question about The Flash. (It's possible that I've watched all four seasons in the last month or so.)

2- Ranting over the phone to various people in other states. I don't know how many long, nonsensical calls I've had with people like Lindsey and my parents. All I know is, it's a lot.

3- Eating ice cream. Half-Baked Ben & Jerry's, man. It's the way to go. Speaking of which, I'm out of ice cream...

4- Re-reading my favorite books. Anything by Tamora Pierce is always on the list, but a few others usually end up on my kitchen table too: "Hope Was Here" by Joan Bauer, "Shadow Spinner" by Susan Fletcher, and "The Horse and His Boy" by C. S. Lewis.

Tonight, after exhausting all episodes involving the Scarlet Speedster, talking to Lindsey the past several nights, and running out of ice cream, I've been immersing myself in the life of Shasta (the Boy in the aforementioned Lewis tale). So far, he's run away from home thanks to Bree the horse and met up with new friends Aravis and Hwin.  He didn't exactly intend to meet up with them - they were forced together when lions started chasing after them.

Lions are a recurring theme in "The Horse and His Boy," much to Shasta's chagrin. My favorite part of the book, and the reason that I often return to it, is this conversation near the end.

He told how he had never known his real father or mother and had been brought up sternly by the fisherman. And then he told the story of his escape and how they were chased by lions and forced to swim for their lives; and of all the dangers in Tashbaan and about his night among the tombs and how the beasts howled at him out of the desert. And he told about the heat and thirst of their desert journey and how they were almost at their goal when another lion chased them and wounded Aravis. And also, how very long it was since he had something to eat.  

"I do not call you unfortunate," said the Large Voice.  

"Don't you think it was bad luck to meet so many lions?" said Shasta.  

"There was only one lion," said the Voice.  

"What on earth do you mean? I've just told you there were at least two the first night, and--" 

"There was only one: but he was swift of foot." 

"How do you know?"

"I was the lion." And as Shasta gaped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. "I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept. I was the lion who gave the Horses the new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you."

Shasta had every reason to complain. His life had been nothing but one hardship after another. He tried to do the right thing and failed in those attempts all the time, and even when he didn't, he ended up in worse predicaments than before. But this exchange revealed to him that he was never alone, and through all those trials he faced - and lions he ran from - he was guided and protected by The Lion, Aslan.

All of us have troubles every now and again. Most of us have troubles more often than that. But Shasta's encounter with Aslan is reminiscent of all the encounters I've had with God in which He gently reminds me that I'm not alone or forgotten or abandoned. He's here, even and especially when I struggle to see Him. "I do not call you unfortunate," Aslan told Shasta, because he wasn't. He was blessed to have Aslan in his life in a very real and present way. We're blessed in that same way. God is in our lives in very real, present ways - ways we would never expect and may never know until we get to the heavenly gates. But we can be sure that He's there, guiding, protecting, loving us through it all.

I left out one coping mechanism earlier:

5- Writing blog posts for other people to read, but really for myself on my next rainy day.

Until next time, this is Iowa Girl Meets World, signing off.

Uncomfortable

Hello, friends! You may have caught on to the fact that last week was a rather uncomfortable one for me. I'd rank it in my Top 5 of the worst weeks of my life. The blows just kept coming. I was searching for something to put my week into perspective when I came across this on my computer. It's the last devotion I wrote as a Lutheran Campus Initiative missionary. It applies so well to my situation that I know it has to be a God thing. I hope it can bring some inspiration to your life as well.

Have you ever been caught out in a storm? It’s rather uncomfortable, isn’t it? It’s dark, the rain is coming down so hard that you can’t see a thing, the water is pooling up around your ankles, you’re cold and wet and starting to feel the sniffles coming on before you even get inside. Now, picture that happening on a small boat in the middle of a lake, and you’re picturing the situation the disciples were in in Mark 4. “A great windstorm arose, and the waves were breaking into the boat, so that the boat was already filling” (verse 37).

We have all felt that way in life, too. Whether we’ve lost our job, we’re overwhelmed in our current job, we’ve taken on too many responsibilities, whatever it might be, we have felt drenched and about to be flooded and overturned. God tends to put us in uncomfortable situations. He always has a purpose, but in the midst of the situations, we’re calling out, “God, please rescue us!” And although God never fails to rescue us, he does even that in uncomfortable ways.

For example, in Mark 4:38-40, Jesus is in the boat that’s flooding… and he’s asleep. “They woke him and said to him, ‘Teacher, do you not care that we are perishing?’ And he awoke and rebuked the wind and said to the sea, ‘Peace! Be still!’ And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. He said to them, ‘Why are you so afraid? Have you still no faith?’”

Now, I don't know about you, but when I'm overwhelmed by something - be it professional or personal - I'm not terribly interested in hearing about my faith. I'm interested in riding out the storm and getting safely to shore. But Jesus doesn't think like that. He is focused on what's important, and in the end, that is our faith. He rescues us in uncomfortable ways to force us to focus on what's important, and after we are rescued, he thrusts us into a new uncomfortable situation with our newfound faith. It's a never-ending cycle, and that's okay. That's the way God intends it. We are not meant to be comfortable, but we are meant to have faith in the uncomfortable.

Count Others More Significant Than Yourselves

Hello, friends. I've written a devotion for you tonight. I'm a little out of practice, but here you go!

"Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves." - Philippians 2:3

My youth group went bowling today. The youth know each other fairly well and always enjoy hanging out with each other. They had a blast, cheering each other on for strikes and gutter balls alike, playing with each other's phones and sharing food with one another.

It would have been easy for them to avoid and ignore my foster daughter as she was dancing around them, insisting on high-fives and hugs and not always factoring in boundaries or personal space. It would have been easy for them to give her the minimum interaction that they could get away with. It would have even been easy for them to ask me to keep her under control.

They didn't do any of those things. Instead, when my daughter wanted to give them high-fives for luck, they responded with enthusiasm and even started to ask for them. When my daughter got a strike, they cheered her on like there was no tomorrow. When my daughter needed help with the bumpers, they jumped in and figured them out for her. They did this all without my prompting.

Now, I don't know for sure why they did all this. I think there are two possible reasons: they wanted to show kindness and respect for her, or they wanted to show kindness and respect for me. Either way, they exemplified Philippians 2:3. Instead of thinking of themselves, they counted either her or me (or, likely, both) as more significant.

Isn't it amazing, then, to think of what Jesus did for us? He had the perfect life. It would have been easy for Him to stay in heaven, where nothing could ever go wrong and nobody could ever bother Him. But he didn't do that. He came to earth and met us on our terms. We were broken and dead in our sins, unable to help ourselves, so He helped us. He sacrificed everything to give us the kindness and respect that we didn't deserve. Jesus counted us as more significant than Himself, even at the cost of His life.

The theme for the National Youth Gathering next month is "In Christ Alone." Philippians 2 explains that this attitude that we are called to have comes not from ourselves, but from Christ's example and through His grace. Without Christ, my youth wouldn't be able to put my daughter above themselves. But with Christ, they did exactly that.

What can you do with Christ?

A Christmas Doggie Devotional

Hello, friends! Merry, merry, merry Christmas! I'm writing to you from my garage, where my dog and I have been engaged in a celebratory game of fetch for over an hour.

(Before anyone says, "Why are you not with your family?!", let me reassure you, I will be seeing my family soon. My nephew, along with a few other people probably, will be in Urbandale over New Year's, so that's when I'm going home.)

Now, back to that celebratory game of fetch. Pastor Jay once told me that you can make a spiritual analogy out of anything, so here's my attempt. :p

My dog lives in my garage, because I'm not allowed to have her in the house. Every morning, the first thing I do is get up and let her out of her crate. She is beyond excited to see me. We usually go for a walk or play some fetch before I feed her. Then I have to go to work, so I lock her in her crate again.

When I come home for lunch, the first thing I do is let her out of her crate. She's beyond excited to see me. We go for a short walk and I let her hang out outside on her tether (which is no longer attached to any windows) while I eat on the kitchen. Then I have to make the long trek across the parking lot back to work, so I lock her back in the crate.

When I get off of work, I return home and let my dog out of her crate. She's beyond excited to see me. This is usually when we go for a nice long walk, often an hour or more. We play fetch in the backyard or "find-the-treat" in the garage. I feed her around 4:30. However, I do have to leave her by herself outside or in the garage while I am productive (or unproductive, as the case may be)  inside. She's always rather sad when I leave her alone. She checks the kitchen door every few minutes to see if I happen to want to play fetch. Then, when I go to bed, I lock her in her crate and leave her for the night.

Now, I tell you all of these mundane details about the life of Kensi for a reason, I promise. Kensi is what every good Christian should be: she is enthusiastic, persistent, dedicated, and loving. Just like Kensi, I should be enthusiastic about my God. I should be persistent, constantly checking to see if my God has anything new to do or say. I should be dedicated, always willing and eager to do whatever it is that my God sets before me. And finally, I should be loving. I should emulate my loving God in everything I say and do.

Notice I said "should." I'll be honest with you - I don't do those things; at least, I don't do them all the time.

But there is this wonderful holiday. Maybe you've heard of it. It's called Christmas. On Christmas, Jesus Christ was born. Jesus Christ came to earth to fulfill all of our "shoulds." Jesus was enthusiastic, persistent, dedicated and loving from the day he was conceived to the day he died - and to the day he rose again, and still even to today. There has never been better news in all of eternity.

Because of Jesus, my "shoulds" turn into "cans" - as in, my "I should be enthusiastic" turns into "I can be enthusiastic - in Christ." My "I should be persistent" turns into "I can be persistent - in Christ." My "I should be dedicated" turns into "I can be dedicated - in Christ." And my "I should be loving" turns into "I can be loving - in Christ." Just like the angel told Mary, "Nothing will be impossible with God."

Now, before I finish this blog, there's another spiritual analogy I want to make. My dog's whole life revolves around me coming into the garage. When I'm not present, she sleeps. End of story. This is yet another way in which I can copy my wonderful animal. My whole life should revolve around my God. It doesn't - but because Jesus's did, mine can, too. And the great thing is that I don't have to wait for my God to come into my garage, so to speak. He's with me always, and that is never more evident then on Christmas.

From me and mine, to you and yours, with love, merry Christmas. I pray that you keep the hope of Christ's birth in your heart today and always.

Take a Break, Read a Devotion

Hello, friends! It's been a slow week here in Tallahassee. All of my students are on spring break, leaving me with little to do. However, it did give me extra time to spend writing my devotions for the week. Normally, I use one of the four assigned readings for each day. This week I changed it up a bit and used two readings per day, repeating the first one on the last day.

Our AND phrase for the week was this: Law and Gospel. Jesus brings those two opposites together in ways we never would have come up with. I think I described them fairly well in my devotion from Tuesday, so today you're getting a repost! I hope you enjoy! :)

P.S. If you like this devotion, there's plenty more where that came from. Check them out at http://universitylutheranchurch.org/blog/ ;)

The Gift of God: His Holiness

Exodus 20:1-17 is a list. This list is uncomfortably long and descriptive. If there ever was a demonstration of the word “Law,” this is it. The list, of course, is the 10 Commandments. “You shall have no other gods before me. … You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain. … Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy” (verses 3, 7-8). These are only the first three, but already we’re starting to sweat. We’ve bowed down to the gods of money or pride. We’ve used God’s name inappropriately in frustration and anger. We’ve forgotten about the Sabbath day.

So what now? Do we give up? After all, these are unattainable expectations from the start. They mean so much more than they seem to say directly. Luther’s Small Catechism gives this explanation of the fifth commandment, “You shall not murder.” “What does this mean? We should fear and love God so that we do not hurt or harm our neighbor in his body, but help and support him in every physical need.” Not only does this commandment forbid us from harming our neighbors at all, it charges us to help and support them whenever they need it. That’s a lot to expect from people who can’t get past the first commandment without tripping!

Right now, we’re feeling pretty foolish and weak. We might even be feeling low and despised, unworthy of the gaze of God. “But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God” (1st Cor. 1:27-29). We have been chosen, this passage tells us, and we are not even to try to boast in ourselves. That’s good news, because we have nothing to boast about.

“And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written, ‘Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord’” (1st Cor. 30-31). It turns out we do have something to boast about: our chosen state, our holiness given to us by Christ Jesus! We would have no chance of holiness if Exodus was all we had to go by – if the Law was all we had. But we do have that chance of holiness found in the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Because God has chosen us, because he sent his Son to die for us, we have the holiness of God.

Copiers, Carrots, and Covenants

Hello, friends! I hope you are all having a delightful day. I'm going to continue on my Lenten theme today by talking about how Jesus connects the old covenant with the new covenant (how Jesus is the AND between the two). And I'm going to do this by talking about copiers and carrots.

I know you may think this is strange, but track with me for a minute. Since the beginning of January, we've been having trouble with our copier here at church. By trouble, I mean it's decided it hates us and our church administrator Matt is on a first-name how-are-your-kids basis with everyone at Service Plus because he calls them so often. In fact, yesterday I even wrote him a limerick about his copier troubles to make him feel better.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel, though. Either Service Plus will this week be able to fix the copier with a new part, and all will be well and good again -- or they will say, we've done all we can. It's time for a new copier. (The reason that's a light is because it will mean the end of calling Service Plus once a day, not that it's great that we might have to buy a new copier!)

Now, for a story about carrots. As most of you know, I've been volunteering at a community garden for about six months now. Right before last semester ended, we planted some seeds, including carrot seeds. Last week we were able to pick and eat some of the carrots right out of the garden. The kids love it when they get to eat food from the garden, especially carrots, and I'm not going to lie, I love it too!

I know what you're thinking. "That's nice, Mary, but what on earth does that have to do with covenants?" Well, let me tell you. The old covenant was something that was necessary, but something that we couldn't do on our own. In a similar way, it was necessary for Matt to call Service Plus constantly, but he couldn't fix the copier on his own. It was also necessary for us to plant seeds in the garden, but we couldn't make them grow.

The new covenant is something that was necessary but that we didn't have to do on our own. Jesus fulfilled the old covenant and gave us a new one. He gave us a light at the end of the tunnel -- something to look forward to, something to hope for. In a similar way, Service Plus will come and either fulfill what we can't do (fix our copier) or give us something to hope for (a new copier in the future). Also, the sunlight, water, and soil fulfilled what we couldn't do (make the seeds grow) and gave us something to look forward to and enjoy (delicious carrots).

These are silly analogies, and obviously not perfect. But I think they work for our purposes. As Lent goes on, I'm trying to find Jesus connections in everything, because he is our AND, and he is everywhere. I hope I can plant some seeds (pun intended) in your minds so you will think about Jesus more this season, too. (If you can think of a pun about copiers I could have put in that sentence, please let me know, as I'm at a loss.)

In the meantime, enjoy this picture of me and my friend Megan. We are proud of our carrots.

Roles (Or Rolls?)

Hello, friends! It's another Thursday, and that means another blog post. I'm continuing with our Lenten theme today of Jesus as our AND. On Sunday, Pastor Jay talked about sacrifice AND provision, and how Jesus brings those together for us.

Last night was Vespers. We talked about the five roles in the church found in Ephesians 4: apostle, prophet, evangelist, shepherd, and teacher. At the end of the discussion, everyone took a survey to discover which one they are. We ended up with 2 teachers, 3 shepherd/teachers, 1 teacher/prophet, 2 teacher/evangelists, 1 apostle, and 1 evangelist. We have quite the group, for sure!

As I think about how I can relate my life and work to Lent today, I keep going back to those roles. We didn't come up with them on our own. We couldn't possibly fulfill them on our own. But God provided those roles for us. He provided us with the capability to fulfill them.

And we threw it back in his face. We weren't interested. We wanted to make up and choose our own roles. We're sinners, after all. We are incapable of even wanting one of the five roles on our own. Therefore, God provided something different for us: a sacrifice, one who perfectly fulfilled each of those roles -- including taking on our sinful role -- and died for us that we might have the chance to believe and fulfill God's plan for us.

We couldn't have the provision without the sacrifice. Without Jesus to connect them, we would be helpless and hopeless without even realizing it. With Jesus's sacrifice that provided for us the opportunity for faith, we can have hope and help others in the role God has given us.

Talking about roles so much reminded me of the amazing rolls from the fellowship retreat at the beginning of February. Therefore, here is a picture of one of those rolls to remind you that YOU have a role, because of what Jesus's sacrifice provided for us.