Heaven and children and the like.

The current Christian “it” book is called “Heaven is for Real”.

Now, I’m the kind of person who will avoid reading a book / watching a movie / listening to a band / eating at a restaurant / wearing a certain style for the sole reason that it’s popular. But. Last week, I found myself on a cruise ship in the middle of the Gulf of Mexico reading “Heaven is for Real”.

The premise of the book {in the event you’ve been floating through a cave in an inner tube or something. Not that I’ve done that in the past week… well ok, I have. But that’s another story for another blog post.} is that a 3-year-old boy was in surgery and was close to death. He “visited” Heaven during this time, and the book talks about the discussions he’s had with his parents since that experience. It outlines the things he saw, learned, and experienced in the 3 minutes he was there.

He spoke of Heaven in detail, and as concretely as if he were telling about a playground he played on, or a swimming pool he visited. There’s no way he was making this stuff up. Kids speak matter-of-factly and they have no filter. They say what’s on their mind. And the details of his story remained consistent over the course of 2 years. That’s hard to do for even an adult. Unless it’s true.

This boy didn’t question anything he saw. He didn’t think twice about the fact that people had wings. He didn’t bat an eye at the fact that God is “kind of blue”, as he put it. He didn’t argue the fact that Jesus has a horse that’s all the colors ever, plus millions of other colors.

Instead, he embraced it. He remembered fondly everything he experienced. He allowed that 3 minutes to infiltrate who he was as a person. And most importantly, he communicated the messages Jesus told him to bring back to his family.

Why do we doubt?

It’s so easy to become complacent, to view God as a faraway being. A concept rather than an entity.

But that’s not the case: God has an active and direct hand in our lives. The kid in the book said that he saw God shooting down power to his dad when he preached.

Active.

Direct.

Personal.

Real.

There’s a chapter in this book called “Jesus Really, Really Loves the Children”. Apparently that love was so evident to the kid that he wouldn’t shut up about it. His parents eventually got so annoyed with it that they told him, “Ok, we get it. You don’t need to keep reminding us about how much Jesus loves the children.”

What is it about the children? What makes them favored in the eyes of God?

I learned a lot about childlike faith over the past week.

When you have Crohn’s disease, it’s absolutely 100% foolish to put yourself in a situation in which you won’t have quick easy bathroom access. But I chose to zipline in the rainforest of Belize anyway. For over an hour, there was no possible way I could use the bathroom. I had been feeling sick that day, but I didn’t want that to stop me from taking advantage of the day I had in Belize, and the incredible opportunity that presented itself to me there.

So I ziplined.

Before I started, I asked God to help me not have to be sick while I was up in the trees.

See, my big problem is that I ask God these things, but then I doubt so thickly that I make myself sick anyway.

“Ask, and it shall be given you.” —Matthew 7:7

Why don’t I believe that?
Sure, I believe it. But I don’t believe it.
You know, the kind of belief that requires trust. Belief that necessitates faith.

Faith.

Childlike faith.

Is it the literal children who Jesus favors?
Or does He simply want our reckless, unabashed faith and trust?

I can’t become a child again. I’m not Benjamin Button.
But I can up the ante when it comes to trusting like a child does.

“Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the Kingdom of Heaven.” —Matthew 18:3

my personal evolution regarding Darwin.

I've done quite a bit of driving over the past few weeks, and in order to pass the time, I've been listening to audiobooks.

The first one I read (well, "read", I suppose) was called Committed, and was written by Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat, Pray, Love. It's her most recent book, and it chronicles her journey from never wanting to remarry, to now being married again. I found it to be very interesting, and I learned a lot about various cultural views on marriage, the history of marriage, and the like.

I then tried to read CS Lewis' Mere Christianity. After battling for a while with the combination of a skipping CD player and scratched CDs, I gave up on that one.

The third audiobook I'd gotten from the library was Charles Darwin's Origin of Species. That became the only option I had left. So I started in on it.

Yes, Darwin.

Yes, Origin of Species.

Here's why:

I love debating and intelligent discussion. It seems to me that Origin of Species is a frequently discussed and debated book, although my experience has been that very few people who discuss it have actually read the book. [much like the Bible, which, for the record, I'm also in the process of reading the whole way through.]

Before I started reading Origin of Species, I had some strong (albeit uninformed) opinions about it.

The bottom line was that I hated Darwin. He was an ignorant fool who made outrageous claims solely to upset people. In my mind, he was the Hitler of Christianity.

So when I started the book, I was ready for my beliefs to be challenged, and for my core to be shaken.

What I found instead was that Darwin was a very calculated, methodical, and scientific man. His claims make sense, and not only that, but they also strengthened my largely Creationist beliefs.

The book's format was pretty formulaic: it was essentially, "I did these experiments, found these results, and therefore came to these conclusions." Darwin didn't come across as a know-it-all like I expected; instead, the book read like a friend telling a friend about some interesting new things they'd been learning. Overall, it's a very exploratory retelling of "this is what I've been researching, and here's what I've found," rather than an in-your-face, "this is what is true."

I agree with 95% of what Darwin says in Origin of Species. All the conclusions he reaches align with my beliefs, with the exception of the infamously controversial way he interprets the way all his evidence works together to prove that all species come from a common ancestor.

The evidence he uses to back up that claim boils down to his observances that species change gradually over time, rather than changing all at once. He implies that this new theory should supersede the creation story as told in Genesis. What Darwin fails to take into account, though, is that a day on Earth is a different length than a day on Jupiter, for instance. Why should we necessarily limit the story of creation to Earth's norms when it's a recounting of the creation of the universe? When the Bible states that fish and birds were made on the fifth day and that God created humans on day six, I don't believe that those events occurred 24 hours apart. In fact, I believe that they didn't occur 24 hours apart.

Darwin's theory doesn't disprove Genesis 1; instead, it reminded me that God is bigger than this finite world that I know.

Darwin dedicates much of the book to his argument for survival of the fittest. His premise is essentially what I'd always heard: that the most healthy/beautiful/fast/whatever of any given species is the most likely to outlast other members of the same species. What I didn't know about Darwin's concept of survival of the fittest, however, was that species are often modified (over the course of several generations, of course) in a way that causes beneficial behavioral change.

If the new beneficial behaviors don't start until after modification has occurred, why do these adaptations occur? While Darwin doesn't answer this question in his book, I can't see any reason aside from a higher power dictating these changes because He knows they will benefit the species. Bottom line: God has a steady hand in evolution.

From the outset of the book Darwin is clear that he uses the term "create" loosely. He advises his reader to take the term with a grain of salt, saying that he is unsure of whether or not a higher power has created the world.

Boom.

Darwin ≠ Hitler of Christianity.

{well, not necessarily. but his clause about creation is definitely a point in his favor.}

While I don't know anything specific firsthand, I've heard that Darwin eventually renounced his claim that all species stem from a common ancestor. So perhaps this entire post is in vain and is a repeat of what Darwin said toward the end of his life. For whatever reason, though, Darwin's stance in Origin of Species is what he's most remembered for, and that's the Darwin that I had in my mind before I started the book.

Regardless, I learned quite a bit from reading (..."reading") Origin of Species, and it really caused me to think. Overall, it reaffirmed my belief that God oversees everything, wants what is best for us, and has a constant hand in our lives.

yes, Jesus loves me.

There seems to be a huge emphasis within the Christian world on loving others the way God loves them.

Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.

--John 13:34 [NIV]

Since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another.

--1 John 4:11 [NIV]

If you've gotten anything at all out of following Christ, …love each other. … Put yourself aside, and help others get ahead.

--Philippians 2:1-4 [MSG]

But what ever happened to looking out for number one?

How can we adequately love others if we don't first love ourselves?

And how can we adequately love ourselves if we don't first choose to receive that love through the only Perfect Love?

I heard a lyric yesterday that I can't get out of my mind:

I can't love me how You love me.

God's love is the only pure love.

He alone knows how to love us.

He alone knows how to give us worth.

He alone knows how to give us a purpose.

But until we find that love. find that worth. find that purpose,

How can we begin to love others?

All of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory

And I realize just how beautiful You are and how great Your affections are for me.

--John Mark McMillan, How He Loves

fairytales. churchtales.

My roommate is in divinity school, which means she writes papers without ceasing.

I love to proofread, so I'm her designated proofreader. Which I'm totally glad about.

Her most recent paper discussed the influence of Christian teachings {especially through contemporary Christian music} on unmarried Christians' views on and expectations of marriage.

See, when a fairy tale is presented as a fairy tale, the "happily ever after" ending isn't internalized by the reader as something that will necessarily happen.

When this same fairy tale is implicitly told as something that could --and should-- occur in real life, it becomes damaging to young people's expectations of marriage, and really, of reality in general.

Let me explain.

Most girls in America are taught a standard repertoire of fairy tales from a very young age.

[You know, Disney movies, story books, etc.]

They're told these stories in such a context that there's no way they could believe the stories to be true: they're very aware that the stories are fictitious. Sure, they may subconsciously apply these stories to their lives as they grow up, but my guess would be that most girls don't believe they'll eat a poisoned apple and then be awakened by a prince's kiss.

Christian circles, however, teach similar stories through a lens of sexual purity.

We're taught things like, If you're patient, the one you're waiting for will come. And, Things will fall into place and will be utopian for people who wait obediently.

What seems to be implied through the mindset of most Christians is that a woman who is unmarried isn't actually unmarried. No, she's in a half-married state to a man whom she has never met, and must therefore wait and pray for him until the day when she will finally meet him and can be fully married.

How on earth is this healthy?

Through trying to teach sexual purity, Christian circles have reinforced the understood social norm that a person is somehow inadequate if they are unmarried.

You worry 'bout the maiden

Though you know she's only waiting.

Spent her whole life being graded

On the sanctity of patience

And a dumb appreciation,

But the story needs some mending

And a better happy ending.

--Sara Bareilles, Fairytale

So then, what should the proper approach be?

I'm an advocate of sexual purity before marriage.

But how should this topic be addressed without it seeming like young people are waiting for a reward of sorts once they find the person who "completes" them?

It hit me all at once:

I'm not ready to release my Crohn's disease.

I'm not entirely sure what prompted her, but when Ashley asked me tonight if I wanted prayer for healing, I couldn't honestly answer "yes". Sure, I'm tired of being sick all the time. But has it become so much a way of life that I'm unwilling to entertain the idea of trying life without it?

What a warped concept.

I mean, who wouldn't want to be healed from a chronic illness?

[…right?]

Perhaps it's because my identity has become so intertwined with my sickness.

Maybe it's that I get satisfaction from the attaboys I receive from those who admire how I cope with it.

Or maybe I don't wholeheartedly believe that God can (or would) heal me.

"In the corners of my mind, I just can't seem to find a reason to believe that I can break free."

--Shackles, MaryMary

Whatever the reason, I didn't ask for prayer for healing.

Instead, I asked for prayer for release.

"Once I've tasted freedom, the chains could bind no more."

--What it Means to Be Free, Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir

It's funny how my Crohn's has claimed such a hold on my life.

As much as I hate it, I've become a slave to it.

It dictates my diet. | my finances. | my schedule.

It's become a huge part of my life story.

After all, I have learned a lot through living with chronic illness.

But why am I unwilling to let that go?

It's not enjoyable. It's not fulfilling. It's not something I want to be identified by.

We're supposed to cast our burdens upon God. (Psalm 55:22)

Crohn's disease is certainly more of a burden than it is a blessing.

Logic tells me that I shouldn't want to live a life with chronic illness.

Yet I can't seem to genuinely want healing.

So let it fall down

There's freedom waiting in the sound.

This is where the healing begins.

--Healing Begins, Tenth Avenue North

it's been a year.

A year ago today--at this very minute--I was texting my friend Sarah, trying to decide whether we should go to Crema for coffee, or if we should just wait to meet up at the show we were both planning to attend that night. We opted to meet at Crema.

And as a result, that's where I was.

I can still picture it. I was sitting in a chair, facing the corner where they have coffee beans and shirts and mugs to sell. Sarah was to my right, and a friend of hers who'd just moved to Nashville was to my left.

My phone buzzed. It was a text from my friend Britt.

There had been an earthquake in Haiti. A big one.

Her family was safe, and that's all she knew.

There was no longer any reason for me to be at Crema. I was mentally absent from the conversation as I texted friends and family to see who had been affected, and how severely.

Suddenly, there was absolutely no part of me that wanted to be in Nashville. I didn't want to be anywhere but Haiti. I felt so helpless: there was nothing I could do from here.

But if I were there, I would've been equally useless in the midst of all the chaos.

In the weeks to come, I spent a lot of time and energy processing.

Trying to comprehend it all.

I'm still not completely sure what it all means, why it happened. Even though I've come to terms with it, I still have questions that will never be answered.

photo credit: Troy Livesay

Today marks the one year anniversary of this earthquake that changed the face of Port-au-Prince forever.

Life has gone on.

But I still am trying to process.

I went back today to some blogs I linked to in a post I wrote shortly after the earthquake. I read entries that had been written by friends of mine in the days after this calamity, and words started jumping out at me.

Words like,

Helplessness.

Suffering.

Broken.

Wondering.

Scary.

Intense.

Uncertain.

Extreme.

Crying.

Pain.

Gone.

Lost.

Sad.

Afraid.

Drained.

Emotional.

"Some of [the things that have happened] feel wrong to share - Like only God should know these personal horrible tragedies." --Tara Livesay [January 13, 2010]

But other words were there too, buried in the layers of raw emotion:

Overcome.

Resilient.

Praying.

Healing.

"I am out here, trying to find a purpose in all of this mess." --Jessica Ackerman [February 12, 2010]

The Haitian people are so strong.

Their culture allows them to show grief, and to not be ashamed of it.

Sure, you have to deal with what you're dealt, but many people groups would disintegrate after experiencing trauma of such magnitude.

It makes me love that country so much more.

photo credit: @RAMhaiti