Needy.

Almost two weeks ago I was in a car accident. For anyone who has been close to me the past few years knows this is just par for the course. My car has experienced 6 accidents over the almost-5 year period since I've owned it, none of which were my fault - although the insurance docked me for the hydroplaning incident - two of which I wasn't even in the car for. It's been a wild ride to say the least.

The other times have been easier to deal with. Just call the insurance, do what they say, and move on.

This time was different though.

The hydroplaning was the scariest thing that has ever happened in my life. And this coming so soon after added to the trauma. I felt like I really had been through a traumatic experience.

I, in typical-Annie fashion, however, didn't really let myself feel it for a little while.

After it happened my car was drivable so I jumped back in and continued to my destination.

I hugged my family (thank God for moms and siblings).

I went to bed, got up and went to work the next day, like nothing even happened.

I only told one person at church that day.

If I don't feel it, if I don't say it, it isn't real, it didn't happen.

But it was real.

It happened.

And every time I walked to my car the dents were staring at me.

It happened.

It was real.

So then, I felt it.

I shed a few tears. I told my mom that this one actually upset me. I slept in on Monday and went to the office late. I told my pastor and the rest of the staff. I called the insurance. I admitted that getting behind the wheel made my back tense up and gave me a headache. I recognized my anxiety when anyone in another car came too close to me. I decided I couldn't wait for the insurance anymore so I took it to the body shop even though I didn't have a rental car because I just couldn't "deal" anymore.

Then I took a breath.

I called my brother.

And I became the needy sister/coworker/friend who can't do everything on her own.

You're reading this and thinking, "That's what brothers, and sister-in-laws, and friends are for!"

And I'm thinking, "If roles were reversed, I'd be saying the same thing to you. But you don't understand. I'm me. I'm I-can-handle-this. I'm Miss I-N-D-E-P-E-N-D-E-N-T. I'm I-take-care-of-it-and-make-sure-its-done-perfectly. I'm me. And I am responsible for my own life and my own messes and I do what needs to be done and I don't need you."

But I do.

I need you.

And this week has been challenging for me.

4 days without a car.

4 days needing rides.

4 days of limited freedom.

4 days of phone calls where I repeat myself over and over.

4 days of lip biting, nail polish chipping, neck tightening anxiety.

4 days of looking at my feet in embarrassment when I ask someone for help - again, for the 4th day in a row.

4 days of I actually can't do this alone.

4 days.

4 days of thankfulness.

4 days of humility.

4 days of lessons learned.

I'm thankful to be gainfully employed and privileged enough for this to only be for 4 days. I'm thankful for family and friends who help without hesitation or frustration. I'm thankful for a church that has literally been my sanctuary for the past week and a half. I am thankful for the one nice person who works at one of the 7 rental car companies who actually did everything she could to find me a car. I'm thankful.

And I'm humbled. I'm humbled by my need. Humbled by my inability to do all of it, everything by myself. My pride came with my fall on this one, and putting it aside was a lesson I desperately needed to learn right now.

I've been reminded that sometimes the strongest thing you can do is ask for help. The strongest thing you can do is ask God, "Why is this happening? And will you help me fix it even if you don't answer my first question?" The strongest thing you can do is tell someone you need them and communicate your problem with the hope and trust that they will respond positively and helpfully.

Life is hard.
But at least we don't have to live it alone.

Haughty Eyes and Strife.

I've been thinking a lot lately about judgement.

Not the eternal kind.

But our tendency as humans to judge others.

For what they believe, or don't believe.

For the way they dress, or don't dress.

For the kind of car they drive, or don't drive.

For the words they say, or don't say.

For the thoughts we assume they think, or don't think.

For the way they act, or don't act.

For seriously, anything. Judgement.

And I don't only mean the obvious ways of judgement: giving someone a dirty look or talking about them behind their back or spewing harsh words in their face (or on Facebook).

I mean the subtleties.

The small passive-aggressive comments.

The little voice in your head that says, "They aren't good because they do this."

The slight pulling away of your body when your in the middle of a conversation.

The little things that tell you that you are uncomfortable with whatever is happening. And if you are uncomfortable, it's obviously wrong and whoever said the thing or did the thing might be bad, or unsafe, or crazy.

Yes, we need to listen to our gut to protect ourself from a possibly scary situation. But that's not what I'm talking about.

I'm talking about when someone simply says something you don't agree with. Something that might put a dent or a crack in the walls of the box where you have your beliefs and view of how the world "should be."

It's uncomfortable to think we judge others. Most of us pretend like we don't, and most of us are liars. If we are truly honest, we admit this fault.

We all have this list of things God hates. We all have an idea of what is righteous and holy and if someone doesn't line up with that list perfectly, then we give ourselves the freedom to judge them. Because we are holier than them. We know better than them. We care more about scripture and justice and people and righteousness than them.

When we do this, though, we are doing something even more terrible than what they did to deserve our judgement. We are putting ourselves in the place of God. And do you know what God really hates? People who think they are God. People who act like they are God. People who think they know exactly what God thinks and because of their knowledge of God, can play God. God is a jealous God, and God doesn't like it when we act like God.

In the Old Testament, rulers were taken down or put in their place because they were acting like God or like they were above God's judgement - i.e. Pharaoh in Exodus, King Saul, even David. The people of Israel were cast out of their homes when they stopped listening to God. The Pharisees were chastised for thinking they knew what God wanted and for demonizing anyone who didn't follow their guidelines.

In Romans Paul argues that by judging others we are despising and turning away from the kindness, forbearance, and patience of God. We are refusing to let God's kindness lead us to repentance. We are self-seeking, attempting to make ourselves look and feel better than the one we are judging.

When we judge others, we lower them to a level where we see them as unacceptable.

News flash: We are all unacceptable.

We are also all human. all wanted. all loved. no matter what.

So what if someone does something terribly evil? What are we to do?

Hint: Not judge them.

Even murders and cheats and thieves and politicians and (insert your choice of "bad" people here).

Yes, even them.

Don't you know that God used people just like them to save the Hebrew people from slavery? To rule the chosen nation? To minister at Jesus' side and carry the Gospel to the nations after the resurrection?

We are all those type of people.

We are all persons.

So what are we to do?

Stop judging.

And.

Fight.

Fight - with yourself, with society, with whomever you need to - to see past the labels, to meet people where they are. To listen to their story and find their pain and lead them to healing. Because pain is an essential part of human experience, and tapping into your own pain to empathize with the hurts and needs of others in the best way to remind ourselves that we are all human. And we need each other to find God.

Stop judging.

Lead with kindness and peace and self control, because those are fruits of the Spirit. Those are what God gives us to survive in this messed up world.

During this season of Lent, God has already revealed the places where I pass judgement onto others. I am attempting to repent and change my subtle thoughts before they turn into defiant, cruel action. Maybe we can work on this together, person with person?

"There are six things which the Lord hate. Yes, seven that are an abomination to God:
Haughty eyes . . . and one who spreads strife among fellow persons." - Proverbs 6:16, 17a, 19b

"Therefore you have no excuse, whoever you are, when you judge others; for in passing judgement on another you condemn yourself, because you, the judge, are doing the very same things. You say, "We know that God's judgement on those who do such things is in accordance with truth." Do you imagine, whoever you are, that when you judge those who do such things and yet do them yourself, you will escape the judgement of God? Or do you despise the riches of God's kindness and forbearance and patience? Do you not realize that God's kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?" - Romans 2:1-5

"A person is a person because he/she recognizes others as persons." - Desmond Tutu

Warning.

Being a disciple is hard.

I hope that someone, somewhere in your spiritual walk and church life tells you as much. Being a "Christian" is easy. Going to church, giving a tithe, dressing up to show up at 11:00AM on Sunday morning is easy. Checking boxes, achieving those small tasks to be a "good Christian" is easy.

But being a disciple.

Following Jesus to the ends of the Earth, standing up for the ones church people look down on, having compassion for the ones who persecute you, loving a God who doesn't always talk back, standing up for what's right even when society says it's wrong, letting go of what we can't control, changing the things we can, being disrespected and underestimated, being a true minister of the Gospel, an actual Christ follower instead of a Sunday morning Christian is so very difficult.

This shouldn't come as a shock. Jesus warned us.

Yet, in our over-comfortable American life, we are shocked. When people disrespect us our response is, "But I'm respectful and hard-working. Why would you do this to me?!" When people try to tell us what we can and cannot do for the sake of the Gospel we say, "This is the land of God-given freedom! Don't tell me what to do!" We are raised with certain morals and ways of living and when anything goes against those, we are astonished and hurt.

But Jesus warned us. If we follow Him, we take up a cross. If we follow Him, we give up respect and comfort and certainty. If we follow Him, we will be misunderstood and disrespected and abandoned by people of this world, and probably even by the people of the religious world to which we are "supposed to" belong.

The more I read the Bible, the more I empathize with the 12. They didn't know what they were getting into, did they? They were following the Messiah, yes. But I don't think they knew how difficult that would be. They weren't aware of the struggle, loss, pain, and loneliness that comes with being a disciple. They didn't know that they actually had to put all of their faith, hope, and trust in God. Not until it was too late. And then, they had no other choice.

We have no other choice.

In order to be true ministers of the Gospel, true disciples, we have to put all of our faith, hope, and trust in God. We have to let go of our comfort, of our need to please others, of our desire to be respected. We have to sacrifice it all for the love of Christ, for the joy we find when we are fulfilled by the Spirit, for the peace we gain in union with God, for the hope that this crazy world isn't all that we have.

Being a disciple is hard.

But goodness, if it isn't worth it...


"Now when Jesus saw a crowd around Him, He gave orders to depart to the other side of the sea. Then a scribe came and said to Him, “Teacher, I will follow You wherever You go.”  Jesus said to him, “The foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay His head.” Another of the disciples said to Him, “Lord, permit me first to go and bury my father.” But Jesus said to him, “Follow Me, and allow the dead to bury their own dead.”"
-Matthew 8:18-22 (NASB)

"Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have obtained our introduction by faith into this grace in which we stand; and we exult in hope of the glory of God. And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us."

-Romans 5:1-5

America the Beautiful?

It's not often that I speak on political issues. I actually never do. Even in face to face conversations I remain mostly silent. In America our politics often mean more to us than our faith. We often confuse the two, acting as if Jesus' teaching to "give to Ceasar what is Ceasar's, and give to God with is God's" means that Ceasar (or whoever is in Congress or the White House) is God. But they are not.

This morning my heart is breaking for our country. Not because of the national debt or the presidential debates or any laws passed by Congress or wars declared by presidents in my 25 years as an American citizen. But because so many of my fellow Americans are turning their backs on what our country was founded on - life, liberty, and the pursuit of a full life.

As refugees turn toward the U.S. for hope and home, almost half of us are slamming doors in their faces.

Are we forgetting that some of our earliest settlers fled to the U.S. because of religious persecution? Because their land and lives were on the brink of death? Are we forgetting that debtors and criminals were exiled to the U.S. because their home countries no longer thought they were worthy to be there? Are we forgetting that we pushed people out of their homes and land, killing most of them, because they would not convert to our religion or willingly give us their land? Are we forgetting that we are all human, all in need of life, freedom, and deserving of a second chance to live fully?

Because I am a Baptist I believe in separation of church and state - true separation. Everyone should have freedom. The overwhelming majority of Muslims do not agree with the extreme action of ISIS. Many of them are currently displaced because of ISIS. These people need a refuge and a home. No matter their religion, we can be that home. But only once we put aside our jaded, self righteous glasses that make us no better than the Pharisees. Everyone deserves a home, and the quickest way to reach people for Christ is by showing them how loving and accepting a home can be.

Because I follow Jesus, I believe in taking care of everyone - both the self-righteous and the outcast. Jesus loved and cared for those who were not of his race or homeland. Possibly because as a baby and small child he was also a refugee who fled from an evil, power hungry king. If we are Christians, let us act like Jesus.

In James 1:27 it says, "Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress, and to keep oneself unstained by the world."

God doesn't look on our fear and self-righteousness with pleasure. God doesn't care if we dress up for church every Sunday - read the prophets, it's in the Bible. Religion that is pleasing to God is action that takes care of the vulnerable. We cannot imagine how many of these refugees are now widows, orphans, or single parents. They are people in distress. They are people without a home. To please God, let's reopen those doors and refuse to slam anymore.

To be unstained by the world, let's refuse to let our culture dictate our action. America isn't just about defending our own or looking out for ourselves because we are scared. When we as Americans act that way, we are betraying our founding fathers. When we as Christians act that way, we are betraying our God. America is about taking a stand against the bullies and power-hungry leaders. That's one reason why we were founded. Let's stop being bullies, and start being rescuers. Courage does not mean slamming doors in fear, it is standing up in the face of oppressors to protect the weak. As Christians, let's welcome all and stand for what God stands for. As Americans, let's hold true to our foundation.

As an American, I hope we will do better.
Let's be beautiful because of our kindness and hospitality.

As a Christian, I hope we will do best.
Let's be religious in our care for those in distress and allegiance to our God.

Oceans

I should be asleep right now.

I'm exhausted. My introvert is ready to shut down.

But I'm still awake.

Because today, April 26, 2015, I'm going to do craziest thing I've ever done.

I'm getting ordained.

I'm going to be a reverend.

We've been planning it for months and extensively planning for weeks.

It's here.

And it still doesn't feel real.

I don't think I met a female ordained minister until I was in college. That was always something men did, a reverend is what my dad was (and still is obviously).

That was never in the cards for me.

But I guess it was.

Looking back, God's been working this out all along. I can't help but be a minister. I can't stop myself from proclaiming the Gospel. I can't imagine doing life without a church family, without people to walk the journey beside. I can't imagine not being a minister, so here I am.

I'm not trying to blaze a trail or be a rebel. I am simply following where the Spirit leads.

Yes, it's a path that's different. It's a path that I never knew was possible until a little over a year ago. It's unfamiliar and new and I am absolutely not following the example of other Christian women in my life...

Except that's exactly what I'm doing. So many great women have helped guide me to this place. No, most of them were not reverends or pastors or even would give themselves the official title of "church minister." But that's what they all were and are to me. Inside and out of the church building, they were the church. They followed God's call even when it was difficult and different. Even when it lead outside of their comfort zone,and away from the paths of their family and friends. Thinking about those women and their husbands and families and friends who served and followed God with them, I am overwhelmed with gratefulness.

And I hope that they know how much their faith and kindness and strength has influenced me, helping guide me to this day.

My ordination day.

Today I will become a reverend.

In December I will no longer be a student.

These two events that happen on two ordinary days of the year will take me on a path that is unfamiliar.

But that's where Spirit is leading me. That's where the Gospel of Christ is going to be proclaimed in my life. That's where I am going to find a faithful God that will not let my feet fail.

And I am thankful.

One Less Caramel Macchiato.

Sometimes, we just need change. We get stuck in routine and become bored with our humdrum lives. When we find ourselves in a rut, we yearn for something more, something different, something new and exciting. We daydream about a stranger coming to take us away or of being fired so that we have a second chance to chase our dreams. We search for new recipes, hair colors, clothes, coffee flavors, dishes at our favorite restaurants, bands, songs, books and words. We look for new opportunities and big breaks. We stop appreciating what is around us and start looking everywhere else but here. Because eventually, something has got to give.

Then it gives.

It gives a lot.

From big, life-altering events to insignificant daily tweaks, things start changing.

New people come into your friend groups and relationships start changing. New job opportunities arise, and your daydream of living in a different city has the chance to become a reality. New classes are offered at your school, and your quest for new words, thoughts, and ideas might come to a temporary end. New songs start playing on the radio, and your view of certain artists start to shift. New coffee flavors are offered at your daily coffee shop, and your barista insists that you will have to change your regular order.

At first, the excitement is too much to contain because this is all you've ever wanted! But then . . . your mind starts racing.

Wait. Hold on. This isn't what I signed up for. It was just a silly day dream. I was having a bad day, so I told my friend I needed a change. I didn't expect for anything to actually come of this. This is too much. I don't think I can do this. Who needs caramel-hazelnut-mocha surprise anyway? Wasn't caramel macchiato enough? I liked my life before; it was a good one. My friends were just annoying me because we spent too much time together, I didn't actually want anyone new to show up. Why do they all look so happy for me? Don't they see that this is just too, too, too, too, TOO much?!?!!!

Fear.

That is called fear.

Our minds instantaneously go from new and lovely to scary and overwhelmed. What we wanted and hoped for now seems ridiculously frivolous and impossible. We start yearning for the simpler days of routine and humdrum. We do not like change, no matter how much we want and need it.

When this change comes we have two options. We can retreat into ourselves and our familiar lives of friends who only make life as complicated as what is already "normal" and our old jobs that give us little to no fulfillment or joy and our regular coffee orders that don't really taste like anything anymore.

Or.

We can embrace the change. We can look forward with our heads up and hearts open. Taking the new challenge one step at a time. Looking beside us to see which of those familiar friends are still walking beside us, supporting our new lives. Finding joy in the challenges a new job or class might bring. Surprising our taste buds with the mixture of caramel-hazelnut-mocha.

That second option. It sounds beautiful, doesn't it?

There is a reason for that.

Change does not come from nowhere. Change comes from somewhere. In my opinion and firm belief, change comes from the only Somewhere that really matters. A Somewhere that is so beyond us its mystery is overwhelming. That Mystery is exactly what we find in our changing, shifting, chaotic life. The Unknown is the real thing that never changes. The Mysterious Unknown is bigger than us, deeper than us, and more meaningful than us. Yet, it is exactly where we find meaning, depth, and learn to appreciate the grandeur of our chaotic lives.

I write this in a time of change. For the past two and a half years my life has not stopped changing - and the past three months have not followed a different pattern. For the past two and half years my friends and family members have grown and their lives have changed. We have all been in this together, with the One who created new things, gives opportunities, and faithfully holds us in the midst of chaos.

For this Mysterious Faithful Creating Loving Peace-granting Table-turning Ground-shifting Unknown One, I am thankful. And in this One, I take refuge.

Will you join me in the journey of embracing change and leaving fear behind? I would love to see your face beside me as I look around, step-by-step. If you say yes, the promise of faithfulness is there. So, what'll it be?

"Hear my cry, O God;
listen to my prayer.
From the end of the earth I call to you,
when my heart is faint.

Lead me to the rock
that is higher than I;

for you are my refuge,
 a strong tower against the enemy.

Let me abide in your tent forever,
find refuge under the shelter of your wings.

For you, O God, have heard my vows;
you have given me the heritage of those who fear your name.

Prolong the life of the king;
may his years endure to all generations!
May he be enthroned forever before God;
appoint steadfast love and faithfulness to watch over him!

So I will always sing praises to your name,
as I pay my vows day after day." -Psalm 61 (NRSV)

Speaking up.

My Senior year of college the Director of Residence Life gave me a compliment that, at first, I wasn't quite sure was a compliment. She said, "It has been great seeing you change during your time here and on the residence life staff. You were a freshman afraid of your own voice, but you have grown so much since then." That probably isn't an exact quote, but it's close. At the time I took the affirmation for what it was, affirmation. I was leaving Mars Hill College as a better person than when I came in - that place will do that to you when you take advantage of what it has to offer. I was also really confused.

I've always been quiet, especially if I don't know you very well. I am without a doubt an introverted thinker who prefers her own thoughts to outward verbal expression. But "afraid of my own voice?" I've never been that self-conscious, right?

In retrospect I completely see what she was saying. I went from shy, freshman Annie who tried to fit in everywhere and make everyone happy, to self-aware Annie who spoke up confidently in class and lead movements and formed friendships in ways others did not always understand. In four very quick years I learned that my thoughts were often too big to keep in my head and making everyone happy is an impossible goal. My voice mattered, at least a little bit. I wasn't afraid of it anymore. At least I didn't think I was.

Here I am, again. Starting my last year - almost, I have an extra semester - in school. It's graduate school this time, seminary in fact, but it's such a similar feeling. I have been moving from a confused, lonely first year who secretly has no idea what she is doing here to an almost-confident third year who is terrifyingly excited about going into ministry. And in this moment I wonder - do I have a voice? If so, does it matter?

In literature classes in high school and college you are asked to find the author's voice. While grading papers your professors ask the same of your own work. Where is your voice? Where is your belief? Where is your passion? How are you portraying this thought or idea?

It's terrifying. If you find my voice, will you like it? How can you like it if I'm not even sure I like it? I keep thoughts in my head for so long and over think them so much that they barely have meaning. I think I have to have every word perfect before it comes out of my mouth.

Maybe part of this stems from being the oldest child. Or from being a pastor's kid who was always expected to get it right, or at least repeat the right things according to a specific congregation. Or from multiple boyfriends who only ever pretended to listen. Or just simply from being a woman - especially being a woman in ministry. Wherever it comes from, it's apparently a big issue.

This is why I struggle with blogging. Every post won't be perfect. Every thought will not be accepted. Every sentence will not create an existential movement. But who needs perfect anyway? Every post is me. Every thought is from my head. Every sentence matters in my existence. Therefore, it is all important. Therefore, my voice matters.

My voice matters.

It's a big, important, difficult thing to remember. If my friends and I are picking out a movie, my voice matters. If my brothers want to listen to a band that I hate, my voice matters. If my friend is in an unhealthy relationship, my voice matters. If I'm writing a paper that only one professor will ever see, my voice matters. If I'm blogging on the internet that has millions and trillions and gazillions of other blogs, my voice matters. If I'm standing behind a pulpit on any given day, my voice matters.

I was created by a loving God who gave me passions and thoughts that deserve to be shared. I was given gifts by the Spirit that assist me in articulating ideas in specific ways. My voice matters. I matter.

Thank you, Mars Hill and McAfee for helping me learn that, even if it's a lesson that is taking a while to sink in.

And to ALL of you reading this, learn who you are, find your voice. It matters, and so do you.