Tag: Jesus

Living Free From Addictions Step One: Admitting You’re An Addict

My name is Megan, and I’m addicted to meaning…

meaning>less



I am not being flippant when I say that all of us suffer from addiction. Nor am I reducing the meaning of addiction. I mean in all truth that the psychological, neurological, and spiritual dynamics of full-fledge addiction are actively at work within every human being.  The same process that is responsible for addiction to alcohol and narcotics are also responsible for addiction to ideas, work, relationships, power, moods, fantasies, and a endless variety of things.–Gerald May (more here)

There you have it. I’m an addict, you’re an addict.

Try to fight it…try… you still are. (wow, upon reading through this, it sounds sooo depressing… don’t worry, things will look up!) It might be an actual substance, something physical you need ( food) or don’t need (Youtube videos). It might be something you can’t see or touch– a feeling, an emotion– maybe a person (known or fantazied about). Your addiction may be lurking close to the surface or buried deep under years of ignorance or denial.Whatever the case, it’s there and it needs to be dealt with.

….When I say I’m addicted to meaning, I mean I want it badly enough that I consciously and other times unconsciously do all I can to have it. It fuels me, I enjoy it, and yet… I never get enough  to reach that desired high. Oh, and when I don’t have it… the downward spiral of addiction begins.

But I’m not wallowing here. I’m actually glad. =) —> (see, smiley face)

I see it now, so there’s hope.

The new year is coming up. And this year, I want to live free. Free from a number of things, but namely, free from addictions.

What’s next?

Well, taking one step at a time.

…step two is a’comin…

Humungo thanks to CK and MS. Love you, sisters.

Interstices: The in-between

Interstice: a short space that intervenes between things; a gap or break in something usually continuous.

A few hours ago, I had no idea the word interstice existed. We’ve only just been acquainted and, I must admit, I’m already in like.

Here’s why:
I’m a recent college grad. (This may be enough explanation for some of you, but for the rest, …) For months now, I’ve felt like I’m ducked tape to a swinging pendulum. Back and forth, back and forth– continual motion, yet going no where. It’s almost sickening, like breathing  week-old air while waiting for a flight. And it’s definitely disappointing always anticipating the first glimpses of shore–the  destination for “what’s next,” but viewing nothing but blue, the un-ending interval of in-between.

It’s easy to feel hopeless, to let the mind get carried away… Maybe all my childhood dreams are just that, childish. Or worse, maybe I stepped off the silver path, made some really stinky decisions, and screwed it all up for myself. Even worse, maybe God really doesn’t care if I live a mediocre, dull life.

Then, this lovely little gem in my inbox:

...the interstices of the world and of our lives are not places without hope. Christianity uniquely addresses the “in-between,” infusing the seemingly trivial or chaotic with significance and even power, transforming the non-places of our lives and experience into places of Christ’s presence. From this view, the incarnation and the ascension can serve as doctrinal shorthands for Christ’s ongoing priestly ministry of reconciliation and healing. Indeed, the possible transformation of a non-place to a place very much reminds me of Peter’s Christological reading of Hosea‘s prophetic witness, where Peter says that “once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy”(1 Peter 2:10, Hosea 1:6,9, and 10).
— Bryan Bademan, MacLaurin CSF, thoughts on “Non-Place: An Introduction to Supermodernity,” by Marc Auge

There’s significance in the small things; in the in-between. David is just one man, yet in his life he had many long periods of almost uncertainty. I say almost, because he held on to a promise, even in the in-between, he knew he’d be king.

I need to think more about this, maybe read this great book from whence that lovely quote sprouted. Until then (and as always), I’d love your wisdom.

Getting Dirty

Relationships are a tricky thing. Such a blessing, they can often feel like the weightiest burden we bear. At times, it seems a relationship will never unfurl to much more than the bud in which it began. Other times, the growing pains of this unfurling is worse than than any comparison I can muster.
 For a couple of weeks, my church was going through a short sermon series called Dirty Jobs. Essentially  it was about a guy named Paul getting real with a church of misfit, often misbehaving Jesus-followers.

He wrote a pretty raw letter, and laid it out bare. And I have to think, he probably didn’t love having to get his hands so dirty with these people and their problems. But out of love, out of the knowledge that It’s God’s desire for us, he did. What came out of it? — The Beauty of Forgiveness.

In between these two Sundays, the Holy Spirit was at work in my heart. I was convicted–deeply so. I wrote two letters in this time. One of confession, knowing, another of rebuke. Both were a step into a dark room. A a slime flame of hope (that I’d followed the Spirit’s guidance) was my only comfort . It was more painful, vunerable, and frightening than many things I have done. It was “getting dirty”, doing true relationship.

I write this, not to commend myself, but to encourage anyone who stumbles across this post. It was worth it.

In both scenarios, more than I could imagine has happened. Reconciliation from the one, and confession from the other. Just today I talked on the phone with the individual I wrote the letter of rebuke to. Though not afraid, I was almost expectant that our relationship would be hindered or altered. Instead, there was much joy and freedom.

I’ll end with this: When Pilot washed his hands of Jesus death, he was not making himself clean. The responsibility he had tainted him as though he’d bathed himself in blood. He wasn’t making peace, he was keeping it. And we are called, as believers in Christ, to be makers of peace, to be in true relationship.

Getting Schooled by the Spirit

On the way home from work tonight, I feel it.
Heaviness.

It’s easy enough to ignore it, distract myself with the radio or listening to a podcast during my forty minute commute.
But I am compelled to be silent–turn it all off and tune in.
The heaviness is still there.
I’m swallowed by it.
Thoughts of failure, rejection, worthlessness. I feel as surrounded spiritually as I do physically, cars on all sides, buildings, motion. But amidst my own prideful, self-centeredness, I hear the Spirit compelling me. Hushing my harried mind, He invites me
to be silent and learn.

Rejection or acceptance by others (humans) holds no weight on the scale of worth.
(Is 2:22)

I struggle with this. It’s not so much struggling with how people view me, how they react to me, but rather the joy or pain I find in them. I, and we, are created to be in relationship, right? Naturally we feel good when others accept us and love us well. I am struggling to believe God alone satisfies this part of humanity. He speaks again.

It’s true. I do.
Imagine a feast– all you can eat, more!–the banquet table of the lamb. When you eat from my bounty, when you feast with me, you are full and over-flowing. You are satisfied and need no more. (Is. 55)

Then what is this pleasure, this goodness that comes from those you’ve put in our lives?

Chewing Gum. It is good, flavorful, and created for your delight, but never to fill you, never to make you full. 

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** Words in italics represent the illumination that God provided for me, not what I would consider the authoritative word of God. :}

Present to His Presence

The universe operates as an orderly system, not by impersonal laws but by the creative voice of the immanent and universal Presence, the Logos.

Tonight on my run, I stopped.
This is not good, because, you see, I am trying to train for a half marathon.
Real runners don’t stop. They pee their own britches before they stop.
Wellp.

In my defense, I was captivated.
There is nothing quite so beautiful as a fall evening–no wind, just sun– reflected and rippling on the lake, infusing with into almost unnatural hues. The lake was so still too. A lone duck drifting securely on the  surface, leaving behind a soft, misshapen V.

I had been trying to listen to God for the last three miles.  Praying and then waiting, and then suddenly coming to a conscious realization that I was thinking about something else again. Ugh.

Father, I just ask for voice, for your presence.

Then I had a realization (thank you Jesus). I’ve been praying the wrong prayer entirely. I need to ask to be more present to Him. He’s the unchanging One, the always present.

Some truth came to mind. In Him all things live and move and have their being.  My mind rested on each of these concepts, and I thought of the duck– how securely she lived, moved, and existed on and in the lake. How I, and all of creation, are upheld, hemmed in, and literally unable to remove ourselves from His presence.
… if I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, your right hand shall uphold me.

Whether we skate the surface of His presence, nearly unaware, or dive in deep, it can not change His permanant presence. I hope this brings you great comfort, great joy, and great desire to be present to Him as He is to you.

Check these bible passages out, yo! Psalm 139 (the whole thing, but especially vs. 7-10) Acts 17: 27-28; Colossians 1:17

True Humanity

This is how we know we are in Him [God the Father] Whoever claims to live in Him must walk as Jesus did. 1 John 2:6

I read this and stopped.
You see, Jesus walked on water. This is a problem, because… I can’t.

Before I get too far into this, I just want to say–

1. This is me thinking on paper and
2. I don’t have it all figured out. (I don’t plan on that happening any time soon, either.)

Back to walking like Jesus.
So, I’m almost positive 1 John 2:6 is not meant to be taken quite that literally. In other translations this verse says “walk in the same manner” and stuff like that. So, it’s about life and our “walk” of life.

But it STILL rocks me. Because Jesus “walked” so radically–did some very very unconventional, darn near impossible things. I mean, the guy rose people from the dead. So even if I don’t take 1 John 3:6 literally, I need to take His life’s work seriously and put it up next to the arch of my own life.

This is the part where everyone’s Sunday school self begins to shout at them, but Jesus is God! And then we all feel better about ourselves because we’re not and so the pressure to live like the God-man suddenly melts away and we’re back to our average, everyday, walking-down-cement-side walks.

And yet, Jesus, (now this blows my mind) tells His buddies, “whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do, and greater works than these will he do, because I am going to the Father.” (John 14:12)

There’s lots of argument about what this means. I don’t fully know. BUT, I do think, looking at the surrounding context, Jesus is making a point: I’m human, you’re human. You can do what I have done. It’s possible.

It’s possible.

How? Well– surrounding context–Go to the Father. That’s what Jesus did. I wish I knew the number of times he said “…The words that I say to you I do not speak on my own authority, but the Father who dwells in me does his works.” (John 14:10)
 

It’s not really amazing that Jesus is God. He’s always been God.
What’s amazing is that Jesus is human.  That he was fully human and yet lived a perfect, powerful life. How? Through the power of the Holy Spirit at the feet of the Father.

He was submissive, humble, and willing. He, as God, did not consider equality with God a thing to be grasped. He was humble and human. Yet, he did not let living in His human husk for thirty years stop Him from living a radical, divine life. He asked the Father, believed, and obeyed.

He became humanity not just to die for us as the perfect substitute, but to show us what true humanity is.

Imagination

I can believe anything, provided, it is incredible~ Oscar Wilde  

Imagination. The whole concept of reconstructing the past, dreaming of the future, creating people, conversations, scenery, events– it  simply amazes me.  Imagination allows us to do anything, be anyone.

But what is it for?

Like most of the questions I ask and ponder about, I don’t think this one has a single, or simple answer. But the more I’ve been thinking about this, the more I realize that the imagination is a very powerful, God-given tool. It can be used for many evils, but I believe there is much deeper element to this gift than we often see.

what does this look like to you?

So, here’s my thoughts on what I want to start using my imagination for:

1. Imagining what person could do, be, or create if they were living at their full potential. 
— because I believe God has a unique plan for every individual, and a kingdom identity for them, this means I would look at that person with the eyes of Christ and see them with His passionate, irresistible love.  He wants more for them, He sees they’re potential and still loves them where they’re at.

2. Imagining who I could be, what I could do, create, etc. if living at my fullest potential.
–I have dreams, who doesn’t? Sadly, I think a lot of people don’t. Or they did once and traded them in. They settled. “Contentment doesn’t mean being passive.” I read that once somewhere. There is always passion, always courage, and always risk in pursuing something that seems, at the time, to be nothing more than a far-off dream.

3. Imagining what the Kingdom of God is like.
–True, no eye has seen, no ear has heard… but oh man, but minds have imagined! Think of C.S. Lewis (what a guy!) Why was he one of the greatest Christian writers/thinkers of all time? I believe a great deal of this is due to his lively and vivid imagination. He put it to work in books like The Great Divorce, which describes the kingdom of heaven like I’ve never heard, and of course his epic descriptions of Narnia, when it is whole again.

Now that I’ve rambled, I’m curious what you think. As always, this is meant to be a conversation. So what do you think? How do we live with redeemed imaginations?

The Giving Life

**Thank you to Annie and Amanda for always encouraging and inspiring**  

So, I’ve failed these last few Mondays on getting a post out there, and I’ve given myself every excuse in the book.
1. no internet in my apartment
2. no time
3. nothing to write about

All but the first one are false, and even the first one wouldn’t keep me from blogging if I didn’t let it.

Okay, confessional done.
Story time =)

Last night I met up with a couple of women for some frozen yogurt at a place in Dinkytown. If you’ve never been, Dinkytown is one of the most vibrant places to experience in Minneapolis. Humming with humanity, the place makes me feel so alive.

In some sense, we’re all people watchers. There’s nothing quite so fascinating as another human being. So as I’m sitting outside the little yogurt shop, I simply can’t take my eyes the army of skinny boys riding their skateboards back from wrestling camp, a hipster couple holding hands, a tired-looking manwalking with two children.

He seems distracted and doesn’t notice his little followers were taking up the entire sidewalk, blocking the path of a dedicated, spandex-clad cyclist. Finally, the father notices what’s happening, apologizes and guided the child gently to his side. I looked away.

Just as this little family is about to pass, the man stops and, to my complete surprise, speaks to us.“Excuse me ladies. I hate to interrupt your evening.”
Oh stink, I’m thinking, he saw me watching them. Maybe he’s offended, maybe…
and then he says, “I recently lost my job–and any help you can give–even if you can’t help, even if you won’t, I’ll still say God bless ya.” He is talking a fast, practiced at his speech. He takes out two IDs from local charities, continues to say, “Anything you can give helps. Anything. I don’t care if I eat, but I’m thinking about my wife, my kids.”

He could be scamming us, using those kids. I’m thinking as the women I’m with are shaking their heads. No cash. And what do I have? I few dollars? I’m looking at these kids, reaching for my billfold. One bill. One measly dollar and a fist full of coins. That’s what I have, and I’ll give it to them. I motion with my finger, and the little boy smiles and comes. I fill his little fist with the money, put some more in his pocket. “Yes,” the man says, almost regretfully, knowledgeable of my distrust. “Yes, give it to the boy.”

They keep walking. And we sit in silence.

There was a man once, walked up to my brother and I in a coffee shop. He had a filthy piece of paper, said he was deaf, and wanted money. Needed it. I didn’t believe him, shook my head no, and my brother handed him a $20.

The deaf man left and I felt a little sick. “He’s probably a scam artist,” I said. “What if he is?” My brother said. “Who am I to judge.”

What if that man I met was lazy, what if that’s why he lost his job. Worse, what if he was lying? Does it really matter? Not now–it was only a couple bucks. But what if I’d had a $20 in my billfold, would it have mattered then?

Give Life

If a man asks you for your shirt, give it to him. Just give it to him. That’s what Jesus said. I’m sick of playing judge. I’m no good at it, and I’m not called to be. I’m just called to give. Love, service, time, money, whatever. It’s all His anyway.

 Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back. Luke 6:30 ESV

The Patience of a Father

The other day I was warming up a bottle for Bax, the massive 3-month-old I care for three days a week. As I scrambled to get the water warm, apply the nipple and screw on the cap, all that I heard was Bax’s half-cries, half-screams.

“Don’t you realize I need to warm this up for you?” I thought. “Of course he doesn’t, but oh how I wish I could just explain that he can’t have the bottle until it’s warm. I wish he could understand.”  All of this ran through my mind as the baby continued to wail.

That is you. You are that child to me.

I heard the words clearly in my mind, spoken, I believe, from God the Father. I was taken aback. C’mon, I’m not this foolish, this helpless. But the impression only grew stronger. As much as Bax relies on me, so I rely on God. Whether I know it or not. I cry out in complaint; I’m worried or anxious about some perceived need; I’m angry or impatient.  I cannot see all the ways He’s preparing what’s best for me. Warming up the milk.

Even though I pray for love and patience every day, I suddenly realize that the reason I can ask the Father for it is because He is filled with it in perfect measure. I am nowhere near the expertise of a parent when it comes to caring for children, and yet what little I’ve seen has shown me with what great care my heavenly Papa loves me.

The Curse of Knowledge

Picture this: Two groups of people. One group, the “tappers” have to tap out a tune using only their knuckles on a hard surface. “Listeners” listen to the taps and try to decipher which song it is out of a well-known list of twenty-five.

Tappers predicted Listeners had about %50 chance of guessing their song. The results: 3 out of 120 listeners guessed the song right. *

Imagine the frustration of the tappers—the song was so obvious, so easy! Yes, for them it was. Yet they were playing the song in the heads! All the listeners heard were raps on a table that sounded like nothing more than Morris code.

It’s called the “curse of knowledge” and it’s not a new idea. But! I think it’s something we often overlook when it comes to sharing our beliefs. We’ve been served knowledge, fed ideologies and eaten our own share of information for years. It makes sense to us, and eventually we forget what it was like to have a lack of that knowledge. So when we spit it back out: green-gray  mess.

I’m fond of a man named Jesus. He had a crazy-vast amount of knowledge and wisdom, yet it wasn’t His brilliance that made Him stand out. It was His ability to spread an idea** which set Him apart.  He did it with story, simplicity, concrete examples, credibility (integrity) and element of surprise that shocked the world. Ironically, His approaches are now widely used as marketing techniques and by social media gurus.

My point is this: If we want to do it (be a good teacher, share our story, start–or even carry on a movement) we’ve got to do it right! We’ve got to make ourselves memorable, spreadable, understandable. We’ve got to do it like Jesus did!

 

* This is a real study conducted by a woman named Elizabeth Newton at Stanford. Super fascinating. Check it out!

* *People need a Savior to reconcile them to God, and He would die for them to be that Savior