Spirit

So, I found this quote by a 19th century Irish theologen by the name of CH Mackintosh. Of course, I don't remember the quote, but it was along the lines of this: God knows that as human, we are constantly sinning- thinking bad thoughts, feeling bad feelings, plotting evil, lying, cheating, stealing, etc. However, He still called us to repent and accept Christ as our salvation.

The key idea I get from this is- Repent. Change the way you think and act. In spite of your nature. We must turn from that former lifestyle- whether "major" sinning, or "minor" (all being the same to God.)

Now, lots of people want to argue and say it is impossible. We will never stop sinning. Part of me wants to agree, but another part wants to say, pish posh! What would be the logic in commanding us to repent if we cannot?

It is a complex, but wonderfully simple thing, folks. We can repent and totally submit to Christ and His perfect will for our lives. We can.

First, you are aware of your inequities. You've lied, cheated, thought nasty thoughts. You have, everyone has. Period. Acknowledge that to God. Tell Him.

Then, acknowledge the fact that God has placed all of that sin on Christ in our stead. Jesus has shouldered your crap. He was perfect in every way, but He took on your dirtiness. That perfect sacrifice was set up for us by God, who loves us that much.

Now, the repent part. How do you change the way you think and act? You don't. That's right. YOU don't. Upon accepting Christ, you are given an advocate, a helper. The Holy Spirit. God's interaction with YOU in this fleshly life. He is RIGHT THERE WITH YOU. There is a lovely line in a song that goes like this: "I'm learning to stand the more that I fall down." The falling down is giving up, laying down your life at the feet of Jesus and allowing Him to move you and influence you, rather than your own thoughts or the temptation of this world.

Get that? There is no way you are going to live a life of repentance on your own. That is why Jesus says, "I'm sending a helper to you." The Holy Spirit gets forgotten, or is misunderstood so often! And He is the strength by which we can live the life God intends for us! The Spirit is God within us! Moving us, holding us upright! Oh, how I love the Spirit. Oh, how I love God. Oh, how I love Jesus.

So, what is all this about? It's about "keepin' it real, ya'll." We have been called to repent, so let's do it. Every morning, wake up, let your first words be praise to the Father. Let your second words be confession of your sins. And let your third words be an invitation to the Spirit to guide your day.

Doing this numerous times a day seems pretty much impossible. But it isn't. I'm not saying that because I do it or anything- heck, I've got some serious dicsiplining to do with myself. I'm saying it because God says we can do it. He tells us to repent. We must be able to do that- change the way we think and act. And not by our power, but by the power of The Holy Spirit. God, dynamic and moving within us. We can live the life God intends for us. We can. It's gonna take work, but hey, we have each other. Let this goal be your first and last. Let living for God be the breath in your lungs, the smile on your face.

In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will make your path straight!!! Amen.

It's not that I don't like the guy...

Seriously. Obama isn't too bad a guy. He's funny. Intelligent. He's got cute kids. Nice guy, nice guy.

But come on, people. The ridiculous head-over-heels reaction that most people have of this guy just makes me want to throw up. He's just a man. There is nothing particularly great about him. If you continue to build him up like some kind of god, what are you going to do to him when he falls incredibly short of your hopes and dreams?

Obama-fanatics are worse than Obama. Like I said, I like the guy. I'm glad it's him and not John McCain, because we have a Demo. congress, and there would be a stalemate between them and nothing would get done. Obama is going to move stuff around, big time. Whether or not that will be a good thing, the pessismist in me reigns on this one, but at least something is happening.

I worry about the whack-job 'bama-worshippers who go into some psychotic frenzy when the man flicks an eyelash off his cheek- seriously. Please. This is not Leonardo DiCaprio. This is not the freakin' Jonas Brothers. This is a freshman senator who just happened to win the presidency, albeit on some lofty promises and "hope" brainwashing that he has already gone back on, but we'll let him slide on that one because, well, we're in a depression. That's right, I used the D word. Not the R word.

So, Obama, this is my message for you- I hope you do well. The conspiracy nut within me eyes you with suspicion, but I will trust God and His decision to make you the leader of this land- by true means or by conspiracy-adled shifty ones. You are the president, my president. This is my country and I love her. I refuse to see you as anything but the president. You are not some kind of glorified messiah, heck, you aren't even the "first black president" in my eyes. You are a man with a big, big, big job. The color of your skin matters to me about as much as the size of your...shoe. Your pigment is not making the decisions about Iraq or the economy. Your brain is. I respect your brain.

And I will give you props for your first day. Meeting with the generals and talking about an actual timeline of getting out of Iraq. Let's hope you bring the boys home and not send them over to Iran or something. So, I don't trust you, Obama, but I will look upon your decisions with the smallest glimmer of hope, clutching my Bible, ready to test your actions against the Truth within it.

May God bless you, and may you bless Him in return, Mr. President.

Musings of an American Housewife

Have you seen those Scrubbing Bubbles new toilet cleaner thingys? They are little gel blobs that you stick onto your toilet bowl. I know this is of vital interest to most people so I feel compelled to write this.

If you are interested in having about 1 minute of border-line "fun," go ahead and buy this stupid product. I had a coupon, so I gave it a go. The science behind these things, seriously. What fourth grader can't tell you that this magical gel blob is purely novelty?

So, I take out the "wand" applicator. It's called a wand because the only way this thing is actually going to clean your toilet is if some kind of magic is involved. You push the blob up to the surface of the wand, stick it to your toilet, pull the wand back, and shazam, you've got yourself a very fragrant blue blob attached to the bowl of your potty. The fragrant part isn't so bad, although might I suggest going with the lemon scent rather than "fresh" which would more aptly be named "hazardous toxic chemical scent". But it's really your call- perhaps chemical scent is better than what your husband can leave behind after a big chili dinner.

Ok, so any actual cleaning this thing does is nominal. Every time you flush, water rushes past the blob, supposedly distributing that bit of cleaning fluid or whatever to the entire bowl. Yeah. I didn't take physics, but I think I can tell when something just isn't logical. My best guess as to how this thing is going to play out is like this: My toilet will be exceptionally clean in a small one-inch wide stripe, directly below the blob, where the water runs around it and down into the bowl. As I can see you are rife with interest, I will most assuredly update you on the progress. We are at day 4, and the blue blob is still in the same place, not noticeably smaller, and as odor-ific as ever. Oh, I just can't wait to see what happens.

And for those of you who just read that entire spew of nonsense, I apologize. I will now write something of more actual vital interest to maybe a few people. Mostly conspiracy-lovers and doom and gloom "we're all gonna die and the government is going to be holding the knife" type people.

Colloidal Silver. Ever hear of it? That blue guy that was on the Today show and Oprah, remember him? He was using colloidal silver on his face for a while, and now he drinks the stuff. I'm doing some research into this silver stuff. I'm hoping I find positive stuff- that will outweigh the negative. The whole turning blue thing is a very rare side-effect that only happens to some people, and it's from using IONIC silver, rather than true colloidal silver.

However, this actual colloidal silver stuff supposedly kills anything bad that could possibly enter our bodies- bacteria, viruses, fungus, whatever. It's like the best antibiotic ever- except it's even better because it kills viruses and it doesn't have all the nasty possible side-effects like liver damage. (I'll turn blue any day over liver damage.) Can this be true? Do your own research. I want to believe it because I want to have something on hand for when, you know, they release whatever stupid virus or bio-weapon killer thing they have planned. Even if you don't believe there is a giant killer conspiracy of elite mega-rich a-holes that want to kill us all in the name of environmentalism or satan or money or all of the above- what a cool thing to have on hand for say, the common cold virus? I've had a cold for like, 7 weeks, and I'm just now getting over the stupid thing. Coulda been gone in a week if this silver business turns out to be legit.

So, let's review. Gel toilet cleaner thingys: Bad. Colloidal Silver for health: outlook is good, but more research is required. Do your own.

Nothing is quite as exciting...

When I was a senior in high school, there was a few weeks where it seemed like happiness was right before my eyes, in my ears, and in my soul. Sadly, I am talking about the few weeks where I purchased the newest Spice Girls album (the putrid Spice World that spawned a hilariously bad movie). How could such a silly pop culture relic bring me the illusion of pure joy?

That is a question I ask myself often. How have I gone from being enthralled with certain things- a new cd that I can play over and over and sing to and brood over, a movie that can wrench my guts out and bring me to an emotional apex that nothing in my actual life has ever really brought me to...a book that leaves me clutching it to my heart minutes after reading the last page, just swooning with glee. That doesn't happen anymore. I'm a grown up now.

But wait. I'm lying. It does happen. It just doesn't happen with those "things" anymore. Sure, a good movie will lift me up into some netherworld of brief emotional ecstasy, a good book will have me blubbering it's praises to my half-asleep husband...but to the extent that the teenage me was so utterly lost in all that stuff? No.

My life has caught up with my ideas of life. I am finally in a zone where the ebb and flow of my very own existence causes me to wreak with passion and fervor. How have I gotten here? God Almighty. And I mean that in all seriousness, not as a simple interjection.

Where a beautiful song once flew me high as a kite, only singing the praises of my God will do that now. A movie that once taught me how love could feel is now a pale reflection of the love that is within God. A book will never read me like the Bible.

Never in those moments as a teenager would I have considered this a possibility. God? Yuck. I'll pass. ....Look at me now. Obsessed with Jesus instead of the Spice Girls or Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman or any of the other odd things I adored. Weird. Does everyone get to experience this? A shedding of the world and a clinging to Christ in all ways, for all needs and desires? Bizarre. I think about this a lot. Thus it appearing on this worthless blog that serves me and only me. Thinking out loud onto my computer screen. This is way better than psychotherapy!!

Spirit! Spirit! Spirit!!!!

Some days I find myself obsessing over my life. My actions, my lack of actions, my treading water. I think I've written a few other times that I feel like I am screaming for God to take over- rend control of this ridiculous person from my sad, sorry hands. Begging for that, pleading for that. In all of that obsessing, I've found myself reaching for the Spirit and any little nugget of information I can get about Him. The Spirit is my helpful friend, my way out of this entrapment.
So, now instead of begging and pleading God to take my life from my hands, I'm begging the Spirit. Sometimes I think He's there, and other times, I think as much as I want Him to be there, I've pushed him away.

I am my own worst enemy. I think too much, I over-complicate EVERYTHING, and I involuntarily fight against everything that I know to be True. I know the TRUTH, so why can't I get my act together? Why can't my heart sync up with my head??

Spirit, you are the key to all of this. You consume me, and I can do the work that God has prepared in advance for me to do. I want to cease to exist in any form of my own, I want to be what you make of me, Spirit, and nothing more. Stomp me into the ground. There is nothing worth salvaging. Make me entirely new and entirely surrendered to You, Lord. This is what I pray and plead, every day, every moment. Shatter me.

Am I crazy for wanting that? I know the Truth, but the pride within me still wants to throw a few punches. Spirit, that's where you come in!!! Sanctify me!

Does not Compute

I have not grown accustomed to the fits and starts of living, or not living my own life for Christ. Each setback is like a shovel to the face. Each slip up is a sign of my ultimate and impending failure- total failure. Wow, I sound like an Alanis Morissette song. No wonder I gravitate toward her music. She uses big words and breaks two-syllable words into three-syllable words. Mmmm, syllables.

So we are having a tough time of it, Lord. I am, rather. You wait for me to get over myself like a infinitely patient mother waiting for her toddler to come out of a tantrum. I appreciate that, but at the same time, can't you rip me from my own hands? Can't you induce a God-coma so that I can bust out of this joint?

Right now, I am like this black-haired emo girl with her hair covering her eyes and a flock of ravens flying around my head. Internally, of course. Mothers of toddlers don't have the luxury of full-throttle selfish depression sabaticals. And I'm over myself enough that I can keep it all internal. Or at least confined to my head and this lovely Blog thing. If my thoughts aren't in my head, you'll find them typed out here. Blah blah blah blah blah blah.

So, this "funk". I hate it. If I knew what it was about, like, specifically, I could work myself out of it. My biggest fear is that this whole mess is going to require some kind of emotional apex. Until I reach that point of complete and total desperation, lose all grasp of my emotional structure that I have built up...see, it doesn't matter that I am begging God with every breath I have. That I plead with the Spirit to clobber me good. Somewhere, I am resisting. Resisting the breaking.

I don't know what I'm supposed to break about. I feel like my brain is waiting for my heart to catch up. My brain is the responsible adult, who uses logic and reason and Truth to move forward. My heart is this selfish little brat with a list of hurts that goes on and on into infinity, and she just wants to mope and mope and be emo. I am living in duality.

Ugh, why couldn't I have been a man? Am I some kind of experiment, Lord? Why must I be this roaring freak show of internal passion and emotion, rolling like waves through my entire being...yet what comes out is this...trickle? Who is controlling this?

Ah, that's enough for one evening, Alanis. Let's get back to whatever it is we're getting back to. Numbing myself or whatever.

What does it mean to follow Him?

Do you love Jesus? Really? Do I? I say I do. I feel like I do. I try my best to act like I do. Which one of those matters? All of them? Probably.

Jesus tells us to "love one another as I have loved you." That is his command right before he goes to the cross. How has he loved us? He was a servant. And not like, a casual one. He didn't just serve as the occasion popped up. No. He sought out opportunities to serve. He roamed the countryside looking for servant opportunities. His life was aimed at servanthood.

What is my life aimed at? Raising my boys? Loving my husband? Maybe those are more like responsibilities. I don't get a high five for doing that, because obviously, I would do that. I love my boys, I love my husband. Lots of people do that- love their family. But where am I aiming? What does my life say about me?

I know what I want it to say.

It is one thing to give of your abundance. And in America, we all pretty much have abundance. A fully stocked grocery store every five miles- that is abundance. To give as an American takes a bit more...

As Christians, our entire LIFE is to be our offering. What Christian can honestly say they give their entire life? I don't know a single one.

When Cain and Abel gave their offerings, look how God reacted. Cain gave out of abundance. Not much effort, not much sacrifice was required. He had five bucks and gave God one or two. Now Abel, he gave til it hurt. Brought out the very best, and when the best was gone, he gave the rest. He had five bucks and gave all five plus an iou for later. When we give, we are showing not only our love, but our faith. If you measured your love and faith by how much you sacrificed, gave to God or to others(which is giving to God, as well)- how would you measure up? Seriously. Look at the faith you think you have, and then look at the faith you demonstrate. Where is your faith located? In your mind/heart, or in your actions? Truly, if it is in your heart, as Jesus says, shouldn't it flow to your actions??? And if it doesn't, well...what does that say about the faith you think you have? This is what James is talkin' bout when he says Faith without Works is dead. Bam. Bam-a-lam.



I love Jesus. LOVE Him. I want to follow Him with all of me, not just the part I think I can spare. One Sunday a week. A Wednesday night each week and maybe a once-a-month type thing. No. I have to be living this with my entire existence, not some partitioned-off section. This should be my complete being. My entire self. Lifted up to God as my offering. That- all that- doesn't come close to what He deserves for all He is, but anything less than all of me is...not even on the fringe of the edge of worthy, even thought no part of me could be worthy.

Am I making any kind of sense? The time has come to stop the excuses. I belong to Christ- all of me, not part. If I live my life in any other way, what does that say about my God? What does that say about me to God?

I titled this blog a while ago- it's good old Mary's verse, a verse I love and adore for it's simple faith and humility. And it is how I long to live my life, and how I yearn to exist from every moment forward...I am the Lord's servant. Let it be to me as you have said..." or will say. Make me into something you can fill, Lord. Use me for Your good Will. My life is my offering, all I have to give, but I give it with great joy and the expectation that You will use it for Your glory. All glory to God in Jesus' name!