Monday, April 21, 2014

Christian Peeps

Do you have a favorite Easter candy? Some people love Cadbury Eggs, others can't resist biting the ears off a chocolate bunny. I'm a simple jelly bean kind of girl. Scott is a huge lover of Peeps. I don't understand the devotion to a stale marshmallow covered in colored sugar cut into a cute shape, but it turns out that I'm in the minority on this one. According to their website, Peeps have been the most popular non-chocolate Easter candy for the last decade, and over 4.2 billion are sold each year. That's a lot of marshmallows! Who would have dreamed that a little handmade treat that took 27 hours to make in the 1950s would turn into an empire, with a following of over 200 fan websites, or that the Peep would become gourmet favorites as fondues, pizza toppings, crème brulee ingredients, and cappuccino toppings? Can ice cream be far behind? By the way, it now takes only 6 minutes to make a chick. Modern machinery is amazing.

I'm afraid that there are far too many Christians with Peep-like attributes. Too often we put on a lovely colored sugar coating to hide our bland, soft, insubstantial inner self. We say the right things, we act the right way in public, and we hide behind sweet but shallow interpretations of our faith. But the truth is that the marshmallow middle still shows through in even the best coated Peep, and even the best act a Christian puts on allows glimpses into the real person inside. If we only 'act' like a Christian, we end up only fooling ourselves. If we do not mature spiritually, we remain soft and gooey on the inside, with little to offer others. But if we dispense with the pretty covering and work to deepen our faith, increase our knowledge, and grow our relationship with our Lord, then we become solid inside, knowing what we believe and why, and willing and able to share it with others.

I'm afraid peep describes many Christians in another way too. We each should be broadcasting the most important message there is to as many people as we can. And yet, barely a peep. We share recipes, hunting and fishing and golf and football stories, pictures of our kids, news of a great sale, stories of awful experiences, and even the mundane details of our everyday lives with other people. But the Gospel? Barely a peep. I've had people I was barely acquainted with tell me amazingly personal things about their life, medical problems, family, and financial issues. But the Gospel? Rarely a peep. Are we as God's people going to be peeps, or trumpeters? Whisperers or announcers? Timid or bold? Useful to the Kingdom or insignificant? I want to be a bold announcer, trumpeter, broadcaster. I never want to be a peep.

Today, we celebrate Easter, the holiday that is most meaningful to me. Christmas is only the beginning of the story. Without Easter, nothing else matters. The enemies thought they won when they killed Jesus, but they could not keep Him dead. The grave couldn't hold Him. Death couldn't restrain Him. Satan couldn't beat Him. And because of this, we are victors too. Jesus won the battle for us, without our help. We didn't do it, but we benefit from it.


Easter Sunday: the day we loudly proclaim “He's alive!!, He's alive!!! He's alive and I'm forgiven, heaven's gates are open wide!” It's the day we celebrate His, and through Him our own victory over death and sin. But don't stop proclaiming it tomorrow when the eggs are all gone and the crosses come down and life returns to normal. Proclaim His resurrection tomorrow, and the next day, and next week and next month. Proclaim it to everyone, always. It's the balm a hurting world needs. So be a trumpeter instead of a peep.

Thursday, April 17, 2014

Ow, Ow, Ow

I had a dental procedure last week that resulted in a great deal of pain, which has been my main focus over the last 8 days. An interesting thing about tooth pain is how pervasive it is. If your leg hurts, you try to avoid walking on it, prop it up, put a heating pad on it perhaps. If your stomach hurts, you may eat soothing foods or take some Pepto or Tums to help the problem. If your head hurts, you close your eyes, massage your temples, take a nap even. If your teeth hurt, you.....suffer. There really is very little you can do to stop the pain. They did give me pain meds, but it wore off every 3-4 hours, setting up a vicious cycle. Heat, cold, eating, starving....nothing really helps. Sleep only comes in 3 hour increments as the medication waxes and wanes. The pain in my mouth eventually caused enough stress that I got savage headaches along with pain in the entire right side of my face. By the time I went back to the dentist a week later to ask for help, I was sleep deprived, short-tempered, quick to cry, and generally pitiful. The constant onslaught of pain had really worn me down.

When you are in a lot of pain, it becomes your main focus. It's nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It's hard to care about anything else. It turns your focus inward, toward yourself. All you care about is making the pain stop. It doesn't matter that you have a million things to do, a family to care for, a job to finish.....the pain stays at the forefront of your mind, using up your attention, energy, and patience.

My pain was physical, and relatively short-lived. I know there are so many people suffering from long-term severe pain. I know people who are suffering physically, emotionally, and mentally. My heart hurts for them, and for the way pain is relentless. Whether it comes from a physical ailment or loss of a loved one or depression, the pain is very real and it negatively affects the quality of life.

One of the things I noticed while in pain is that, having a medical background, I look for concrete things to reduce the pain. I had medication, I tried heat, I tried salty water, I even tried Yarrow plant, which was a lot like chewing slightly minty grass and not especially pleasant. It wasn't until I was reduced to tears, laying in bed and ready to dissolve that I would remember to ask the Great Physician for help. I had a number of friends send messages that they were praying for me, and it would prompt me to pray for me too. During this time, I realized that I am quick to send up prayers for others, and yet, I fail to ask for help for myself. This is not some noble trait where I don't want to bother God over my needs. Rather, it is a failure on my part to trust him and to turn to him first. It is not wrong for me to try other methods to help, but it is wrong when I turn to them exclusively, or when I go to God as a last resort.

The other thing that really hit home with me during this minor trial in my life was how important it was for others to pray. When I couldn't think through the pain to pray for help, others did it for me. As I think back over the hardest times in my life, I know that having people praying carried me. When Tim was a tiny mite and was in the hospital with pneumonia, though they didn't yet know what it was, I called on friends to pray, because I couldn't even think of words to say. When my grandmother died and my heart was crushed, friends held me up with their prayers. When my dad was so very sick in the hospital and I was terrified I might lose him, the prayers of many sustained me. Knowing that people were lifting me up made all the difference.


Pain, regardless of the type or cause, fear, anxiety...they all take our focus off God and turn it inside. The remedy is prayer. We have to remember to go to God first for our needs. And we need to remember how important it is to pray for others in need, and to let them know you are lifting them up. It can make all the difference in the world.

Friday, April 4, 2014

The Death of a Vile Man

Fred Phelps passed away on March 19, 2014. You may not know his name, but I bet you know his works. He was the founder of Westboro Baptist Church, the group famous for picketing at funerals and demonstrating anywhere a camera might be found. Of all the sins in the world, they have laser-focused in on homosexuality, declaring that God hates homosexuals and anyone else who doesn't also hate them. They use the most vile language to get their point across, and are as hurtful as possible along the way. Phelps was a man filled with anger and hatred, fear and arrogance. He did an immeasurable amount of damage in God's name, without really knowing God at all.

Phelps's family has been torn apart by his beliefs. Most of his so called church members are family, and anyone who leaves the church is kicked out of the family. This extended even to his death in that his own children who had left the church were prevented from seeing him on his death bed by church members. Phelps's beliefs hurt a lot of people personally, but they also did a lot of damage to believers in general. His group was quick to appear where publicity could be found, and because of their hate-filled message, reporters were quick to seek them out. They became the poster children for the world's view that Christians are intolerant and that intolerance leads to oppression, hatefulness, and harm. Many have been judged by the actions of a few, even though the few did not really represent the many. No one in the media seemed to bother with the fact that, though Westboro claimed to be Baptist, they did not display ANY of the characteristics that makes one Baptist. Their beliefs were not in line with any Christian beliefs. How many people, searching for something bigger than themselves, interested in God, looked at the news and decided they wanted no part of it after seeing what so-called Christians did?

In case it wasn't clear, I did not like Fred Phelps. I hate everything he did, everything he stood for, and all of the damage he left in his wake. As the daughter of a veteran with great respect for those who serve our country, I am incensed at those who would dare to protest at a service person's funeral. As a person of faith, I hate the way they have twisted the message of love, repentance and salvation into a message of hatred and exclusion. I am not sorry that he's gone, and I pray his church dissolves, although I know that isn't likely as there was already new leadership in place before he died.

I am not sorry that he's gone, but I am sad that he died without the Truth. I saw lots of people celebrating his death, and making comments about wanting to protest his funeral, but when I heard of his death, I was saddened that another one was lost forever. Celebrating his death, protesting at his funeral....those are the same actions he would have carried out, and as Christians, we can't let that infect us. We can not lower ourselves to the same depravity that we despised in him. We can't condemn his lack of love and compassion, and then show the same lack of love and compassion toward him and his family. We must love our enemies, and we should feel sorrow when anyone, anyone at all, is lost in darkness. God desires all to be saved, and so should we.

It's hard. There are people, like Phelps, like Bin Laden, like rapists and murderers and child abusers, that are easy to hate, hard to love, and even harder to want to see saved. There is a reason people say “There's a special place in hell for someone like that.” Our human nature wants to see the vilest people punished, and we want them punished into eternity. We don't feel like they deserve to be saved. They were evil, and they deserve hell. News flash: so did you. So did I. So did we all. I never flew a plane into a building. I never picketed at a funeral or spewed hateful language at someone whose lifestyle I disagree with. I never killed someone or hurt a child. But I've committed other sins, quite a long list of them in fact. And according to God's word, it only takes ONE for me to deserve an eternity apart from Him. One lie. One time not honoring my parents. One time not honoring God. Just one. And that one sin is enough to condemn me to the same fate it is easy to wish on Phelps or Bin Laden or Manson.

When I did not deserve it, Jesus died for me. He died for you. And He died for Fred Phelps too. Let's show His love to the world by not hating as Phelps did, but desiring all to know the Truth. Let's be the light on the hill we are called to be.