I feel rough. Rough around the edges, rough around the soul.
Like a rough gravelly drive, looking over at her nemesis Enchantment, a slow moving creek with grassy banks.
I feel jagged and broken; nothing is fluid, nothing is smooth.
I want to be easy to take, like the weathered maple syrup cabin sitting on the side of the hill, framed by the woods.
Easy like a forest in autumnal flame.
Easy like water on the lake.
I should be that hillside, covered in nature. Permanent and home.
Winter has a hold on me; I’m dying for spring. A flower in frost.
Thank God the joke's on me.
Friday, October 17, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Secret Shoppers for Churches
You have got to be joking. I know many churches, at least the one's that make it in the news, have turned towards gimmicks to draw in larger audiences. I understand that nowadays, Christ is more of a perk in church, rather than the reason for it. I realize that following Christ is too much of a maturity process for people; it requires more adjustment, well hell, following Christ is fully an adjustment of the spirit/soul. One cannot buy their new life with Christ and have it delivered to their door; they can't return it when it doesn't fit.
This life with Christ will never fit at first and it will never adjust to fit one's self; each person must adjust to fit what Christ has so freely given. It's the marriage everyone dreams of and when they wake up 6 months into it, after pushing through the growing pains and the deep love and then times that try one's soul, they realize that 1) unimaginable growth has occurred (they're not the same shallow person they were 6 months ago, and 2) the more they die to their own selfish ways and attitudes, the more beautiful this relationship/partnership becomes!
I know 6 months is nothing to those who have decades under their relational belt, but these 6 months are priceless to me; I never knew how much it would mean to me to have gone through this process of marriage, I never realized how precious and life-saving the marital life would be. Now granted, I'm married to the most amazing man and that gift in and of itself leaves me speechless and forever grateful.
At any rate, this life with Christ can't be bought (does anybody remember that the price for it has already been paid?). This life with Christ cannot be replaced with small talk, specialty coffees, and a worship band! DOES ANYBODY REMEMBER THE TRUE MEANING OF THE CHURCH?! If you don't want Christ, stay of out of my church. that's right, little "c" church. The church.
This is why I hate what "Christianity" has become. This is why I don't like going to church anymore. This is why I don't want to be associated with Christians. How can you dare mock the name of Christ by calling yourself a "Christian"! Am I being hoity-toity about this? Yes. Am I saying I'm better than you because I think my bare bones relationship with Christ is better than your designer style relationship? Yes. (I realize this is an area where great work is needed, but frankly, all you "Christians" have pissed me off beyond the point of caring, at this moment at least). I'm saying that a true relationship with Christ isn't found in a building, it's not found with a rock-style worship band, it's not found in how appealing the sermon is; it's not found with how much you pour yourself into the small group, women's group, men's group, Saturday morning group. That relationship isn't found by attending the teen group, the new moms group, the singles group, the pre-marriage counseling group, the divorced support group, or any other support group. Disclaimer: the relationship can be encouraged and supported by attending the above groups; I'm not at all saying they're a bad idea, great help and a show of love and support and community is found with these groups.
I don't judge the church on the cobwebs, the water stains, the "random bucket" (what???) under the sink, or the worship band. I love going to churches that either have only one person signing acoustically or have no worship at all (I get so bothered with being in tune that anything that might speak to me from whatever song it is that I'm singing will blow right over my head. I'll sing on my my own time, thank you.). I'm not going to judge the church based on the cracks in the pavement or any other asthetically disturbing or pleasing aspect of the church. I want to know if the church is speaking the truth, both by pastor and parishoners. I want to know if I'm going to hear about Christ or if I'm going to be fed something to appease my guilty soul.
The article linked below is about a new church phenomenon: Secret Shoppers. Apparently these guys or girls attend church services to give their opinion as a "newcomer." How can they tell what a newcomer wants? Do you really want people in your church who are turned off by the greeters or the peeling paint? Don't you want people to come because your church is a place of Christ's truth and true love?
I've got more to spout off on but I've worked myself up into quite a mood; I'll need to settle.
The Mystery Worshipper
This life with Christ will never fit at first and it will never adjust to fit one's self; each person must adjust to fit what Christ has so freely given. It's the marriage everyone dreams of and when they wake up 6 months into it, after pushing through the growing pains and the deep love and then times that try one's soul, they realize that 1) unimaginable growth has occurred (they're not the same shallow person they were 6 months ago, and 2) the more they die to their own selfish ways and attitudes, the more beautiful this relationship/partnership becomes!
I know 6 months is nothing to those who have decades under their relational belt, but these 6 months are priceless to me; I never knew how much it would mean to me to have gone through this process of marriage, I never realized how precious and life-saving the marital life would be. Now granted, I'm married to the most amazing man and that gift in and of itself leaves me speechless and forever grateful.
At any rate, this life with Christ can't be bought (does anybody remember that the price for it has already been paid?). This life with Christ cannot be replaced with small talk, specialty coffees, and a worship band! DOES ANYBODY REMEMBER THE TRUE MEANING OF THE CHURCH?! If you don't want Christ, stay of out of my church. that's right, little "c" church. The church.
This is why I hate what "Christianity" has become. This is why I don't like going to church anymore. This is why I don't want to be associated with Christians. How can you dare mock the name of Christ by calling yourself a "Christian"! Am I being hoity-toity about this? Yes. Am I saying I'm better than you because I think my bare bones relationship with Christ is better than your designer style relationship? Yes. (I realize this is an area where great work is needed, but frankly, all you "Christians" have pissed me off beyond the point of caring, at this moment at least). I'm saying that a true relationship with Christ isn't found in a building, it's not found with a rock-style worship band, it's not found in how appealing the sermon is; it's not found with how much you pour yourself into the small group, women's group, men's group, Saturday morning group. That relationship isn't found by attending the teen group, the new moms group, the singles group, the pre-marriage counseling group, the divorced support group, or any other support group. Disclaimer: the relationship can be encouraged and supported by attending the above groups; I'm not at all saying they're a bad idea, great help and a show of love and support and community is found with these groups.
I don't judge the church on the cobwebs, the water stains, the "random bucket" (what???) under the sink, or the worship band. I love going to churches that either have only one person signing acoustically or have no worship at all (I get so bothered with being in tune that anything that might speak to me from whatever song it is that I'm singing will blow right over my head. I'll sing on my my own time, thank you.). I'm not going to judge the church based on the cracks in the pavement or any other asthetically disturbing or pleasing aspect of the church. I want to know if the church is speaking the truth, both by pastor and parishoners. I want to know if I'm going to hear about Christ or if I'm going to be fed something to appease my guilty soul.
The article linked below is about a new church phenomenon: Secret Shoppers. Apparently these guys or girls attend church services to give their opinion as a "newcomer." How can they tell what a newcomer wants? Do you really want people in your church who are turned off by the greeters or the peeling paint? Don't you want people to come because your church is a place of Christ's truth and true love?
I've got more to spout off on but I've worked myself up into quite a mood; I'll need to settle.
The Mystery Worshipper
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Antique Mommy
Antique Mommy's Bailout Plan
This lady has the bailout plan done right. See the follow-up post on her site for more great thoughts.
This lady has the bailout plan done right. See the follow-up post on her site for more great thoughts.
a little bit small, a little bit strong
I do not place my hope on the shoulders of all who gone before me. My hope does not come from the stories of yore, the hopes of ancestors, the ideals of those who have gone before me. But my hope is backed by the truth of the past and the complimented by the hopes of my fathers.
My hope is present. My hope is not dated and antiqued; filled full by others’ dreams. My hope is fraught with doubt and bombarded by the “truth of today.” This hope, the fuel that spurs my heart, should not be explained away by science. It is not scientific and therefore, my hope is not an equation; it is not an organ in me but still very much united with me, a running current that connects me to others.
Strip me down and find the source of this hope; how can I walk each day and breathe each day without hope? I would be nothing less than a cadaver.
My hope stems from what I know; it is not based on the pseudo-faith of others who merely use hope for an identity but have no idea of the life that hope gives.
Why explain my hope away? What is it to you if I believe because I do? Why would you try to destroy this?
Who destroyed you?
My hope is present. My hope is not dated and antiqued; filled full by others’ dreams. My hope is fraught with doubt and bombarded by the “truth of today.” This hope, the fuel that spurs my heart, should not be explained away by science. It is not scientific and therefore, my hope is not an equation; it is not an organ in me but still very much united with me, a running current that connects me to others.
Strip me down and find the source of this hope; how can I walk each day and breathe each day without hope? I would be nothing less than a cadaver.
My hope stems from what I know; it is not based on the pseudo-faith of others who merely use hope for an identity but have no idea of the life that hope gives.
Why explain my hope away? What is it to you if I believe because I do? Why would you try to destroy this?
Who destroyed you?
Hello Ohio
Hello Ohio
The back roads
I know Ohio
Like the back of my hand
Alone Ohio
Where the river bends
And it’s strange to see your story end
In my life I've seen a thousand dreams
Through the threshers all torn to pieces
And the land lay bare
Someone turned a profit there
And a good son lost his life in a strip pit
When the sun went down we would all leave town
And light our fires in Egypt Bottom
And the reservoir was just as good for Joni
‘Cause we knew we would
Dream outloud in the night air
Holly said, Don’t go inside the children’s home
Mary said, Don’t leave your man alone
Valerie was singin’ to the radio
Ohio
It was summertime in ‘83
We were burnin’ out at the rubber tree
Wonderin’ what in the world
Would make all this worthwhile
And if I knew then I was older then
Would I see regret to the last mile
Hello Ohio
The back roads
I know Ohio
Like the back of my hand
Alone Ohio
Where the river bends
And it’s strange to see your story end
How I hate to see your story end
It’s so sad to see your story end
Words and Music, Karen Bergquist of Over The Rhine
Do it, go check them out.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
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