A lesbian main character, college students partying and smoking pot, a setting where the character is told he can't escape himself. That the human dilemma must be experienced. Sounds like a pretty typical movie, right?
How about a line in a movie that says, "If you ever plan on making friends, or sharing a bowl, or seeing a human vagina without a credit card, get in the closet Baptist boy. And stay there." Not too shocking, right?
What if I told you this film was made by Christians?
Today I went to Wal-Mart specifically to buy the movie Blue Like Jazz. That's a sentence I never thought I'd type. Only in my beautiful sleepy dreams would Blue Like Jazz become more than a book I purchased and gave to every Christian I met. Now it's something that can reach an ever larger audience. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
If you don't know anything about Blue Like Jazz, download the book by Donald Miller to your Kindle or Ipad immediately. I'd say go to Barnes and Noble or Walden Books, but most of those don't exist anymore. You'll have to download it. But that's okay. It's 2012, you know.
Long story not as long, Donald Miller is one of the most honest and creative Christian thinkers who makes words eloquent and raw at the same time on paper, and now on film. His book Blue Like Jazz is a New York Times bestseller, and now a movie. The film had the momentum and creative behind it to begin filming, and then key investors decided stock in Apple or Coach or something that was more secure, and pulled from the project. As a result, some crazy fans make a Kickstarter video and raised hundreds of thousands of dollars to save Blue Like Jazz. Incredible. I wish I had thought of it.
With performances from Marshall Allman, Tania Raymonde, Claire Holt, Ryne Hambright, and Steve Taylor directing, this movie proves it didn't cut corners. But this isn't a movie review.
I just want to say, FINALLY.
This is a mile marker for Christian sub-culture, a trail blazer. For what, you ask?
For Christians to be human. In public.
Doubt. Questions. Searching. Becoming. Mistakes. Anger. Resentment. Civil Disobedience. Passion. Motivation. Curiosity. Starting over. Starting for the first time.
Too often Christians feel, at least I feel, like I can't be human in front of people. Like I have to have it together or you'll think my God is too much of a pansy to fix me or give me faith. I feel like I have to have answers for suffering or why private business owners exercise their first amendment rights because I don't want you to think I hate people. I don't want you to think God hates people. He doesn't, you know. He also wouldn't wear a Christian t-shirt. Just throwing that one out there. That one is for free.
But this movie is the first of it's kind that says we are human. We believe in God, and we have questions. We don't always believe what we know in our hearts to be true because a broken world doesn't always reflect a perfect God. "We all have our crap." And if it's okay for everyone else to be human and be part of a functioning society, then maybe it's okay for Christians, too.
Just like real live people, sometimes Christian film makers feel like they have to wrap things up in a nice little bow at the end of Christian movies so you don't feel if there's no positive resolution, then God isn't real. We don't want you to think God isn't real, because He is. But sometimes, there is no bow. There's just no neat package.
Blue Like Jazz has no bow.
I don't have answers for everything either. I don't have answers for most things. I question more than I answer. Eventually, I hope I have faith in more than I have questions. And if that's the case for you, it's okay. God doesn't wrap presents. God sustains. He authors. He perfects.
I just thought it was time you know.
Now go watch this movie so you know what I'm talking about.
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
You've Been Warned
I’m not sure why I’m always surprised when I hear of tragic or
volatile things that happen in the world or down the street or in my life. The Bible is full of secrets to this life and
deep waters. And I forget that. Sometimes I still feel like I did when I
believed that false belief that says if you don’t read the Bible then God won’t
like it and you’ll feel guilty. Just
because I have a theological degree doesn’t mean I understand everything or
don’t fall into old patterns. Do you know your pastors and
youth pastors and small group leaders are human? Do you know they’re broken? They doubt and question and fear, I promise
you.
And I think that should bring you hope.
God wants us to take Him seriously when He says that trouble
will come, but to take heart, because He has overcome the world. Do you get that? Those three pieces.
It's on it's way, but hold fast, because I've already conquered this.
When people ask me why God lets horrible
things happen, I wish I could remember to talk with them about this verse. Scripture, the inherent Word of God, one of
the few things I’d stake my life on, comes out freely and openly and says
things are going to get really, really difficult. Not that it might or could. That it will.
It’s on its way. And no one is
exempt. Not pastors or rock stars or you
or me.
And I don’t think God means
trouble like you’ll get a flat tire or the store will be out of marshmallows on
your way to a bon fire. I think He means
suffering. Serious, life-shaking, up all
night and I’m ready to renounce my faith because this is so incredibly horrible
and exhausting and confusing, suffering.
I bet you have cried over this trouble.
And if you haven’t, I’m sure you will.
You want to know why I think that?
Not because my glass is half empty. I say this because the Bible tells
us straight that storms are brewing and that we are one phone call away from
it.
But Jesus also says to take heart. That He has overcome.
Jesus wants us to take Him seriously when He says that He
has overcome the world. I’ll confess, I
just used the synonyms tab for the word ‘overcome’. Here’s what came up: affected, blown-away, bowled over, defeated,
conquered, overthrown, swept off ones feet. My favorite synonym that came up is
‘visibly moved’.
God has visibly moved
the world.
And He has, hasn’t He?
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Action and Reaction Almost Rhyme
Someone recently pulled aside my father-in-law outside of the church walls and told him my husband and I don't dress appropriately to church on Sundays. "There's just a way we do things around here."
Keep in mind, we aren't wearing bathing suits. We're wearing jeans. And not even the neon colored ones.
I had been told this to my face a few times from other people in this particular church. When it happened, I looked them in the eye, forcing them to look into mine and hopefully view me as a human being rather than an object of disapproval. It prompted a roll-your-eyes-when-you-walk-away-and-say-a-short-prayer-for-them response in me. But saying something to my father-in-law? That made me angry. I don't know why my reaction was that of surprise when I found this guy went out of his way to be judgmental. That people still conduct themselves this way. I guess I thought we had grown up a little.
But the Bible is littered with crap like this. Almost like God was trying to warn us.
It really could get this ridiculous.
While people still act like this and it's extremely sad, people still react like me, which is also extremely sad. Criticism, skepticism, and reciprocal judgement rather than redemptive anger, sorrow over sin, and prayer. Just as his criticism lacked redemptive breath, so did my mental reaction.
I'll be the first to admit my humanity, but in the same banner, I'll also be the first to admit I believe we are called to holiness despite the circumstance. While it is our responsibility not to conduct ourselves like fools, it's also our responsibility not to react like fools.
"Be holy, for I am holy."
Other people's behavior does not give you or me the freedom to respond in judgement. We have been given a mandate to strive for holiness, to live a life set apart despite the way other people choose to spend their time or use their words. A life that undeniably echoes the love and grace of our sweet Savior. And that mandate alone frees us to react with the kind of redemptive anger that holds hands with redemptive love.
God doesn't give us the go ahead to look like idiots when we respond to sighting sin. Instead, He frees us to react with genuine intention, and maybe with some solid rebuke.
Our criticism can't save anyone. It disenchants people not only with "church folk", but more so, disenchants people with the God who knows the number of hairs on your head. It serves as a poor and unjust reflection of the God who spills stars into the sky we all share. And we do reflect Him whether it's our finest moment or not - you know this right?
I remember seeing an interview with Katy Perry once, and this was a long time ago. But she made a comment about how she had no desire to be a role model for anyone. And I remember thinking to myself, that's a ridiculous thing to say. You have no choice in the matter.
He said we would be the body, we would be His hands and His feet in the world. And not just some ambiguous "in the world", but in our communities. In our churches. With each other. We will reflect Him. God cares about the way we treat one another. The way we act and the way we react.
Don't you know the hymn? They'll know we are Christians by our love...
Keep in mind, we aren't wearing bathing suits. We're wearing jeans. And not even the neon colored ones.
I had been told this to my face a few times from other people in this particular church. When it happened, I looked them in the eye, forcing them to look into mine and hopefully view me as a human being rather than an object of disapproval. It prompted a roll-your-eyes-when-you-walk-away-and-say-a-short-prayer-for-them response in me. But saying something to my father-in-law? That made me angry. I don't know why my reaction was that of surprise when I found this guy went out of his way to be judgmental. That people still conduct themselves this way. I guess I thought we had grown up a little.
But the Bible is littered with crap like this. Almost like God was trying to warn us.
It really could get this ridiculous.
While people still act like this and it's extremely sad, people still react like me, which is also extremely sad. Criticism, skepticism, and reciprocal judgement rather than redemptive anger, sorrow over sin, and prayer. Just as his criticism lacked redemptive breath, so did my mental reaction.
I'll be the first to admit my humanity, but in the same banner, I'll also be the first to admit I believe we are called to holiness despite the circumstance. While it is our responsibility not to conduct ourselves like fools, it's also our responsibility not to react like fools.
"Be holy, for I am holy."
Other people's behavior does not give you or me the freedom to respond in judgement. We have been given a mandate to strive for holiness, to live a life set apart despite the way other people choose to spend their time or use their words. A life that undeniably echoes the love and grace of our sweet Savior. And that mandate alone frees us to react with the kind of redemptive anger that holds hands with redemptive love.
God doesn't give us the go ahead to look like idiots when we respond to sighting sin. Instead, He frees us to react with genuine intention, and maybe with some solid rebuke.
Our criticism can't save anyone. It disenchants people not only with "church folk", but more so, disenchants people with the God who knows the number of hairs on your head. It serves as a poor and unjust reflection of the God who spills stars into the sky we all share. And we do reflect Him whether it's our finest moment or not - you know this right?
I remember seeing an interview with Katy Perry once, and this was a long time ago. But she made a comment about how she had no desire to be a role model for anyone. And I remember thinking to myself, that's a ridiculous thing to say. You have no choice in the matter.
He said we would be the body, we would be His hands and His feet in the world. And not just some ambiguous "in the world", but in our communities. In our churches. With each other. We will reflect Him. God cares about the way we treat one another. The way we act and the way we react.
Don't you know the hymn? They'll know we are Christians by our love...
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Memento Mori
It's never easy when somebody dies.
Our church sends e-mail alerts all the time about people sick or in the hospital or recent deaths-in-the-family. I hate getting those e-mails because while I see them as prayer requests, others see them as people. People they adore.
A tragic and beautiful thing happened this week. A sweet, mission-minded, 23 year old young lady left this side of eternity. Some would say she went too soon, but that's human talk. This was the time the Lord had designated before there were oceans.
What gives me rest is knowing she would have wanted to go if her work was done. She loved and feared the Lord, and she wasn't in the business of wasting time. She was in the business of redeeming it.
I know this because she was my roommate my freshman year of college.
The accident happened en route to do things that were covered in the aroma of Jesus. She spent two restful weeks in a hospital, and then onto bigger and better things she went. I can't help but wonder if the few good days she had during the two weeks she was in a coma were when she saw her sweet Savior for the first time. When He came for her. He promises to do this, you know.
Some never think it will be them. We don't think death happens to people we know. Maybe our grandparents, because they're old. But not us. Or we're the other extreme and live (if you can call it that) in fear of everything. Like cancer or car accidents are lurking behind every tree. Neither of these are healthy, and neither will save us.
The reality is we're all going to die one day. It could be forty years from now. It could be tomorrow. We just don't know when our time is up. That scares some people. It shouldn't. It should motivate you.
God doesn't sleep. This is freedom.
That doesn't mean I feel comfortable standing in my closet, picking out clothes to wear to say goodbye. The nausea and anxiety that come with searching through black dresses is still too much to handle. My husband will probably have to pack my bags for me.
I just have hope in this God who makes promises. This God who loves us. And oh, how He loves us.
My friend only had 23 years in the grand narrative that is God's story. She died serving this Jesus that scooped her up before death could bat an eye in her direction. I desire to serve this Jesus, too.
Not wasting time with things that aren't in the business of unveiling the Kingdom at hand has to be a conscious decision.
If children are still going hungry and lost people are still lost, then there's some stuff we just don't have time for.
We've got things to do.
Our church sends e-mail alerts all the time about people sick or in the hospital or recent deaths-in-the-family. I hate getting those e-mails because while I see them as prayer requests, others see them as people. People they adore.
A tragic and beautiful thing happened this week. A sweet, mission-minded, 23 year old young lady left this side of eternity. Some would say she went too soon, but that's human talk. This was the time the Lord had designated before there were oceans.
What gives me rest is knowing she would have wanted to go if her work was done. She loved and feared the Lord, and she wasn't in the business of wasting time. She was in the business of redeeming it.
I know this because she was my roommate my freshman year of college.
The accident happened en route to do things that were covered in the aroma of Jesus. She spent two restful weeks in a hospital, and then onto bigger and better things she went. I can't help but wonder if the few good days she had during the two weeks she was in a coma were when she saw her sweet Savior for the first time. When He came for her. He promises to do this, you know.
Some never think it will be them. We don't think death happens to people we know. Maybe our grandparents, because they're old. But not us. Or we're the other extreme and live (if you can call it that) in fear of everything. Like cancer or car accidents are lurking behind every tree. Neither of these are healthy, and neither will save us.
The reality is we're all going to die one day. It could be forty years from now. It could be tomorrow. We just don't know when our time is up. That scares some people. It shouldn't. It should motivate you.
God doesn't sleep. This is freedom.
That doesn't mean I feel comfortable standing in my closet, picking out clothes to wear to say goodbye. The nausea and anxiety that come with searching through black dresses is still too much to handle. My husband will probably have to pack my bags for me.
I just have hope in this God who makes promises. This God who loves us. And oh, how He loves us.
My friend only had 23 years in the grand narrative that is God's story. She died serving this Jesus that scooped her up before death could bat an eye in her direction. I desire to serve this Jesus, too.
Not wasting time with things that aren't in the business of unveiling the Kingdom at hand has to be a conscious decision.
If children are still going hungry and lost people are still lost, then there's some stuff we just don't have time for.
We've got things to do.
Friday, July 13, 2012
I don't take Jesus seriously.
When I pulled into the Memorial Home, I wasn't even sure where to park. Where I was expecting a parking lot full with vehicles belonging to family visitors, there was only a small circle of gravel big enough to fit three cars. And it was empty. I pulled in and took in the sight. The size of the dead tree in the front yard demanded attention; it's branchs curved and reached toward the ground as though they were crying out in thirst. A broken wooden fence surrounded the front of the one story building. It reminded me of an old schoolhouse, scattered with patches of terminal grass where flowers used to grow. I guess the flowers don't bother anymore. A woman in a red sweater came out the front door and stood on the porch and stared at me as though I was some sort of dangerous intruder, interrupting my thoughts. A dog followed behind her.
That must be Carolyn.
Carolyn runs the Memorial Home for the Aged in Laurens, South Carolina. It's a home for the elderly who can't afford assisted living or a nursing home yet can no longer care for themselves. The place doesn't even have a website. You can find the phone number from people who know people who have lived in this small town for a while. Without Carolyn, the 38 people currently housed at would be homeless. Even the ones who have family have only Carolyn. Those they love are long gone with stolen inheritances, retirement, and estates they did not earn. All prodigal's sons who never came home. So when I say theses people would be homeless, I mean homeless. On the streets. Surely dead.
The Memorial Home used to be run by a board, who were responsible to "the county". So essentially, Laurens County was responsible for the Memorial Home and the board made decisions on their behalf. The actual name of the facility is the Laurens Memorial Home for the Aged, which I refuse to call it. Staff, finances, sanitation, the whole parade used to be the responsibility of the county, and eventually they decided it was no longer their responsibility. In Carolyn's words, the dedicated people on the board were told to sink or swim, but they'd do it without the support of the county. Carolyn was on this board.
Twenty some years after that conversation, I'm sitting across from this woman, wondering what on earth she was thinking.
Twenty some years after that conversation, I'm sitting across from this woman, wondering what on earth she was thinking.
The tears overflowing from her seasoned eyes as she told me story after story about souls she deeply cared for would have brought the most apathetic to their knees. The scent of a decaying building and bodies were most abundantly mixing with the stories she hummed; both still grasping for what life is left in them. But what I will tell you, is that stories like hers and those she gives her life to make better should never die. Compassion is real. I have seen it.
I try and visit Carolyn at the Memorial Home more often than once in a while. I hope it reminds her somebody cares about what she's doing; it reminds me good people really do exist. I asked her recently why she hasn't written a book about all the things she's seen, all the redemption she's encountered. An account of how God dips His finger into this depravity. She laughs and coughs at the same time. She says nobody would believe her. She says the stories are too ridiculous.
I try and visit Carolyn at the Memorial Home more often than once in a while. I hope it reminds her somebody cares about what she's doing; it reminds me good people really do exist. I asked her recently why she hasn't written a book about all the things she's seen, all the redemption she's encountered. An account of how God dips His finger into this depravity. She laughs and coughs at the same time. She says nobody would believe her. She says the stories are too ridiculous.
I have come to find out Carolyn has battled cancer for years. Her husband is also terminally ill. They live in a small house fifty paces from the Memorial Home. And this - this is how they've chosen to spend their time. All of it.
The rest of it.
The rest of it.
Carolyn Penland will never write a book. She'll never hold a weekend conference in Nashville or be a well-known, eloquent blogger. She'll never be known for her sepia-induced photography or have a booth at a Christian music festival. She is a woman who took on something that wasn't her problem to own. And yet now, it fully encompasses her existence. People are depending on her to stay alive.
Do you remember one of the last things that Jesus told His disciples in the upper room? He tells them that where He's going they can't go. And then He tells them to love one another, as He has loved them.
I can just imagine how different would things look if we took Jesus seriously for once. If I took Him seriously when He says He has to leave for a while, but He'll be back for us.
"Take care of each other."
I can just imagine how different would things look if we took Jesus seriously for once. If I took Him seriously when He says He has to leave for a while, but He'll be back for us.
"Take care of each other."
Friday, March 16, 2012
The Pericope Adulterae
I bet that when the Pharisees brought the woman caught in adultery to Jesus and asked His thoughts on the Mosaic law that damned her to humiliating and painful execution, He just thought to Himself,
You've got to be kidding.
Some translations of the Gospel of John say that as the Pharisees were speaking, Jesus wrote in the sand as though He did not hear them. As though their concern and infatuation over her sin was not number one on His priority list. He also knew they were trying to back Him into a corner so they could condemn Him as well.
Straight up, if I were Jesus, I would have been really ticked off. I would have called out the Pharisees for trying to make me look like a fool, patronizing me by quoting Mosaic law, as if I was unaware of it. They would have been crossed off my list of potential small group leaders. I would have wanted to sit down with the woman and tell her that sex was created for glory and joy and she was not experiencing that joy, and glorifying no one. Then I would have handed her a Matt Chandler sermon.
And that's just off the top of my head of immediate reactions.
But Jesus didn't do that. He didn't react emotionally or erratically. He wasn't sarcastic or patronizing. He asked a simple question that required action as the only possible answer. He said that if you've never screwed up anything in your life, you can throw something at her. (Paraphrase of course - don't try and look that up.) And one by one, the Pharisees walked out, leaving the guilty woman with Jesus.
Has no one condemned you? Neither do I. Go and sin no more.
I bet He looked her in the eye when He breathed forgiveness and compassion into the stale air surrounding them. I bet small, salty tears fell from her tired eyes. I bet she felt like a ruby in His midst. Like a precious, sought-after ruby.
I think we forget too quickly that Jesus is eager with affections for the lost.
In light of the recent rumors of Jason Russell of Invisible Children being arrested, I just want to plead with you to have no stones to throw. Don't forget that Jesus has compassion for broken people, including those who mess up in public. You are one of them.
Instead of treating people like humans who make mistakes, especially ones in the media, we immediately slander them and everything the represent. We assume they've always had ill intentions or mask our prior support and say we were secret skeptics from the beginning. I think this is unfair.
I don't know Jason Russell or his heart. I don't know if he was really arrested or detained under section 5150. Maybe he was. I don't know the true effect that Kony 2012 is having on Ugandan people. Maybe some are angry and fearful. Maybe some are hopeful. But here is what I do know.
We are called to love, and love extravagantly. In spite of brokenness. In the face of our brothers potential public humiliation, we are called to compassion. You are called to LOVE him. Your slandering of this man on Facebook and twitter is an awful showcase of that. Can we just not make Jesus look bad this time?
Jesus had no stones to throw.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
You don't owe me anything.
Last year, I made it to the final round of interviews for a job that I really, really wanted. And not because it was easy work or tons of cash or close to home, but because the people were real, the cases were real, and the decisions were final.
Alright. Judge Judy jokes aside, this job was pretty boss. And I wanted it badly.
It ended up being between me and a guy native to the area where the job was. I felt confident and nervous all at the same time and checked my phone constantly. I knew I was qualified for the position, but moreso, I knew I had clicked with the students, parents, and committee. Our conversations about faith, theology, and the Kingdom at hand were effortless. After a rough run at my "dream job" that turned out not so dreamy, I was eager for something fresh and new. There wasn't a fearful bone in my body. For the first time since going to Australia, I felt courageous. I felt assured knowing that if this was what the Lord had for me, I'd have to fearlessly jump in. I would have to move far away from home to a place where I knew very few people. I knew it would be scary, but I was ready to pack my bags. I enlisted the help of friends and followers on twitter and facebook for prayers we could press into. I had never been so ready for anything. And the salary wasn't too shabby, either. But I didn't get the job. The other guy did.
And he had a Bachelors of Science degree. In nursing.
Yes, you heard that correctly. Nursing.
It didn't make any sense to me. I even started to tear up on the phone as they told me they had offered the position to the other candidate and he had accepted. My immediate emotion wasn't even that of hurt. It was embarrassment. When I asked for feedback as to what I could improve on as I continued in my search, the answer made not getting the job even worse.
"Nothing. We prayed for someone we wouldn't have to settle for, and God sent us two. You'll do great wherever you are."
And then they proceeded to give me Scripture to refer to when I felt confused and disappointed.
-- Just a note to anyone in ministry - when you're declining to give someone a job, do not give them Scripture to help them feel better. It does not help. It does not make them feel better. --
I couldn't understand why it was happening. My resume was amazing. I studied under great professors, including an Australian Old Testament scholar, helped start a ministry from the ground up in the poorest county in Pennsylvania, studied abroad in a rigorous academic program, was hired full time in my field 6 months before graduating. I did everything right.
And I got beat by a guy with a nursing degree.
Not only did I feel entitled to a good job, but I felt like God owed it to me. I studied what I believed was my calling regardless of the terrible salary, volunteered countless hours, sacrificed planning my wedding to spend 6 months in another country studying and serving. Certainly, there should be some sort of return, right? So I decided God was now in my debt. He owed me one.
After my anger took the sidelines, I pouted like a toddler in a tiara who doesn't want to put on her fake eyelashes.
And I learned awfully quickly that God doesn't owe me anything.
I wish I could say that I never think about that job anymore, but sometimes I catch it hovering in the shadows of my mind. It is the only job I've never been offered. And that will knock a prideful person on their, well, on their pride.
In January, I moved to South Carolina regardless of not getting the job. I came to find out the guy with the nursing degree is already gone. When I interviewed last year, the church was in the midst of some changes and after hearing the generalities of the situation, it's hard to say if I would have survived it. Had I been hired, I would have walked in with my own scars and the church was in no place to help them heal.
Driving home after finding out, I felt protected by my God. I also wondered why He chose to reveal this to me. I had moved on. He didn't have to give me a glimpse of the answer to my questions. But He did. It was as though He knew it all along.
I watched your excitement grow and grow, and I was excited too. To see you discovering there's even more out there than you thought. More cultures within this country. To see your desire and willingness to leave your family and know you were risking anxiety ridden nights. I knew you thought it was all worth it to see the Gospel come alive. Man, it was beautiful. But sweet daughter, I had to protect you. I grieved the loss of something you never had alongside you. I was so hurt to see you hurting. Confused. Embittered. I want you to know I'm not mad at you. I was only protecting you. Today, you only see in part. Keep that in mind, my girl.
God will go to extremes to show you that He loves you. He has a bird's eye view of the timeline of eternity. He created it. No one knows the long run better than God.
I hope our Lord sends you a cool breeze reminding you that He is in control, and you don't have to feel like He owes you anything. Because first of all, He doesn't, and second, He wants to shower you with grace and hope because He loves you. And that's better than Him doing it because He owes you.
Alright. Judge Judy jokes aside, this job was pretty boss. And I wanted it badly.
It ended up being between me and a guy native to the area where the job was. I felt confident and nervous all at the same time and checked my phone constantly. I knew I was qualified for the position, but moreso, I knew I had clicked with the students, parents, and committee. Our conversations about faith, theology, and the Kingdom at hand were effortless. After a rough run at my "dream job" that turned out not so dreamy, I was eager for something fresh and new. There wasn't a fearful bone in my body. For the first time since going to Australia, I felt courageous. I felt assured knowing that if this was what the Lord had for me, I'd have to fearlessly jump in. I would have to move far away from home to a place where I knew very few people. I knew it would be scary, but I was ready to pack my bags. I enlisted the help of friends and followers on twitter and facebook for prayers we could press into. I had never been so ready for anything. And the salary wasn't too shabby, either. But I didn't get the job. The other guy did.
And he had a Bachelors of Science degree. In nursing.
Yes, you heard that correctly. Nursing.
It didn't make any sense to me. I even started to tear up on the phone as they told me they had offered the position to the other candidate and he had accepted. My immediate emotion wasn't even that of hurt. It was embarrassment. When I asked for feedback as to what I could improve on as I continued in my search, the answer made not getting the job even worse.
"Nothing. We prayed for someone we wouldn't have to settle for, and God sent us two. You'll do great wherever you are."
And then they proceeded to give me Scripture to refer to when I felt confused and disappointed.
-- Just a note to anyone in ministry - when you're declining to give someone a job, do not give them Scripture to help them feel better. It does not help. It does not make them feel better. --
I couldn't understand why it was happening. My resume was amazing. I studied under great professors, including an Australian Old Testament scholar, helped start a ministry from the ground up in the poorest county in Pennsylvania, studied abroad in a rigorous academic program, was hired full time in my field 6 months before graduating. I did everything right.
And I got beat by a guy with a nursing degree.
Not only did I feel entitled to a good job, but I felt like God owed it to me. I studied what I believed was my calling regardless of the terrible salary, volunteered countless hours, sacrificed planning my wedding to spend 6 months in another country studying and serving. Certainly, there should be some sort of return, right? So I decided God was now in my debt. He owed me one.
After my anger took the sidelines, I pouted like a toddler in a tiara who doesn't want to put on her fake eyelashes.
And I learned awfully quickly that God doesn't owe me anything.
I wish I could say that I never think about that job anymore, but sometimes I catch it hovering in the shadows of my mind. It is the only job I've never been offered. And that will knock a prideful person on their, well, on their pride.
In January, I moved to South Carolina regardless of not getting the job. I came to find out the guy with the nursing degree is already gone. When I interviewed last year, the church was in the midst of some changes and after hearing the generalities of the situation, it's hard to say if I would have survived it. Had I been hired, I would have walked in with my own scars and the church was in no place to help them heal.
Driving home after finding out, I felt protected by my God. I also wondered why He chose to reveal this to me. I had moved on. He didn't have to give me a glimpse of the answer to my questions. But He did. It was as though He knew it all along.
I watched your excitement grow and grow, and I was excited too. To see you discovering there's even more out there than you thought. More cultures within this country. To see your desire and willingness to leave your family and know you were risking anxiety ridden nights. I knew you thought it was all worth it to see the Gospel come alive. Man, it was beautiful. But sweet daughter, I had to protect you. I grieved the loss of something you never had alongside you. I was so hurt to see you hurting. Confused. Embittered. I want you to know I'm not mad at you. I was only protecting you. Today, you only see in part. Keep that in mind, my girl.
God will go to extremes to show you that He loves you. He has a bird's eye view of the timeline of eternity. He created it. No one knows the long run better than God.
I hope our Lord sends you a cool breeze reminding you that He is in control, and you don't have to feel like He owes you anything. Because first of all, He doesn't, and second, He wants to shower you with grace and hope because He loves you. And that's better than Him doing it because He owes you.
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