I was talking to one of my good friends who used to attend PLBC today, about what my next blog post should be about. I really felt like writing one, but I don't really have much to share that's not a little too personal for up here (at least for now).
He suggested that I write a funny, lighthearted post.
Well, here it is. Thanks for the idea, Cody!
I have these two friends here at PLBC. I will change their names, though not enough to not embarrass them a little bit. They can handle it.
The first one is 'Jenny'. I met Jenny in my first year here. She is pretty awesome. She is very much an encourager, and she's typically pretty joyful and always fun to be around. She can get me to do things that I really don't want to do, and I still like her after. THAT takes talent.
The second one is 'Coda'. Coda is also from my first year, though we only really started to get to know each other when she began attending my church last year. Coda is often a voice of reason in my head. She is sometimes shy at first, but once you get to know her, she's hilarious!
These two, Jenny and Coda, are fairly good friends on their own, as well. THIS year, they have apparently discovered something new to do on their own time. They like to talk about me!
Now, now...not in a bad way. They aren't spreading rumors or gossiping about me...nope, they have no problem telling me exactly what aspects of my life they were discussing, and what their exact thoughts were.
I will not try to lie, I found it a little odd (even concerning) when Jenny first let me know this was happening. But, alas, when I finally find out what they've been saying, it's usually the most encouraging, sweet thing I've heard that particular week. (I did find out that they have discussed which guys I should and should not be interested in....maybe I should still be concerned...)
They tell me how beautiful I am, inside and out. They tell me why they love me. The apparently discuss my "good decorating taste" while sitting in my room on the weekend while I'm at my parents' house. (No, they didn't technically break in. I told Jenny she could hide out in there to do homework.....)
I really do love these two women. They make my days so much better, and I love spending time with them.
They aren't bad for my ego, either. :P
To Jenny and Coda: You can talk about me in my room when I'm not there whenever you want. As LONG as it's all good. :)
Love you both!
Monday, September 30, 2013
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
"He will pursue you."
I could sit here and write up another whole entry on how I feel about the church situation, but I won't. It hasn't changed. I'm still sad but happy, though it is beginning to hit harder as the week goes on. If you'd like to pray for me for something, pray for a decrease in anxiety, and an increase in peace about this whole thing.
Moving on.
Today's topic is something that anyone (especially if you're single!) who has been at Bible College, especially one as small as PLBC, for more than a semester or two, is familiar with.
If you really go back to the beginning, it starts with your friends and family back home, making jokes about "bridal college". You get there, you make friends...time passes. Your family and friends back home ask if you've met anyone. You tell them, "No." and they keep pushing.
Once you've been at Bible College for awhile, you've made some close friends. They start prodding..."So, do you like anyone?"
Nobody is subtle around here.
People often think that these questions, these jokes, are simple, fun, and just embarrass people a little bit. But I don't think that's always the case.
In my first year, I didn't "like" anyone. Not really. But then I made a friend. He happened to be male. He was funny, loved the same shows that I did, got my obsession with television, and was just generally fun to be around. Some of my other friends (girls...gah!) saw this, and immediately started the questioning. Questioning lead to suggesting. Suggesting put ideas into my head that didn't actually make sense. They convinced me that because I liked hanging out with him, that maybe I should go after him.
Bad idea.
He was a great friend, but looking back, did I really feel that way about him? I don't really think so.
I have seen this same thing happen so often around here, it's scary.
Girl finds a friend that's not a girl. Girl's other friends insinuate things. Girl starts to think that maybe her friends are right. Girl "likes" guy. Guy has no idea what the heck happened. Girl gets upset when he doesn't "like" her back.
I'm sure a simpler version of this happens with guys toward girls.
A huge problem at Bible College is the rumors. You would think that gossip would be less, considering...you know...it's wrong? But they're terrible.
Now, am I saying that every girl and guy that become friends should spend all of their time alone together? Not likely. I'm also not saying that no guys and girls that become friends should ever date.
There are kind of two points I wanted to get out of this.
The first is that people need to stop talking. Quit telling your friends who they do or should like. It can cause trouble. Quit spreading rumors. Quit gossiping. You could accidentally ruin a friendship, or send people into a relationship that they were never meant to be in. That's not fun. I've been guilty of this in the past, and I still have to stop myself from opening my mouth sometimes. It's an ongoing problem, especially with girls. We will never be perfect, but let's at least be aware of ourselves.
The second point is a little less obvious, and speaks more to the culture we have been raised in.
How many television shows that you currently watch show men, especially married men who are fathers, as the strong, leading, head of the household? How many show the fathers as complete morons, where most of the point of the show is to make fun of how stupid they are?
We are living in a culture that has taken feminism way to far...and that's coming from a female! Voting: great, working in fields that we couldn't previously: awesome, being allowed in schools: the best! (There's a whole lot more, and I'm sure I'll get some sort of bad reaction from some woman - probably one or more of my close friends, even - for saying all of this, but too bad.) The problem is that feminism has gone to the extreme. Instead of being happy being women, we're trying to be men. We're in a culture where men are degraded, made to look stupid, and are assigned labels if they so much as show that they care about another human being. Girls are being raised to pursue men, when it is written right into men, by GOD, to pursue women.
I'm not a huge fan of this turn of events. Men are men. Burp, fart, and scratch. They are stronger, and they love the challenge of finding the woman that they'll marry. It's part of their DNA. Women are constantly taking that away from them.
It's something I had to learn through stupid situations over the years, and it is something that I find that God has been reminding me of almost every night for the past month or so.
"He will pursue you."
To all of you girls out there: quit taking the guy's job away from him. He will pursue you. Quit trying to force things to happen that shouldn't be happening.
To all of you guys out there: if you have real feelings for a girl, pray. Talk to God about it. Talk to a mentor about it. If God gives you the okay, man up! Go against this ridiculous culture and pursue her!
.....
I'm sure I'm going to get some...interesting...comments on this post. In the end, take what you want from it, and don't be too offended by any of it. I'll stand by what I said, but don't let one person's opinion completely form you. Do your research. Talk to godly leaders that you trust. Make your own decisions; come to your own conclusions.
But back to me. (Because THAT didn't sound self-centered!)
I'll be here, praying, and waiting on God. God will put me with who I need to be with. He'll tell that guy when it's time to pursue me. Or maybe there is no guy. I don't know, and it's not my job to know right now, in this second. God will make it happen, and I'll be happy with whatever plan God has for my life. So for now, (this will sound SO corny) God's my date, and His Word is on the menu.
Wow.
WAY cornier than even I thought.
Goodnight!
Moving on.
Today's topic is something that anyone (especially if you're single!) who has been at Bible College, especially one as small as PLBC, for more than a semester or two, is familiar with.
If you really go back to the beginning, it starts with your friends and family back home, making jokes about "bridal college". You get there, you make friends...time passes. Your family and friends back home ask if you've met anyone. You tell them, "No." and they keep pushing.
Once you've been at Bible College for awhile, you've made some close friends. They start prodding..."So, do you like anyone?"
Nobody is subtle around here.
People often think that these questions, these jokes, are simple, fun, and just embarrass people a little bit. But I don't think that's always the case.
In my first year, I didn't "like" anyone. Not really. But then I made a friend. He happened to be male. He was funny, loved the same shows that I did, got my obsession with television, and was just generally fun to be around. Some of my other friends (girls...gah!) saw this, and immediately started the questioning. Questioning lead to suggesting. Suggesting put ideas into my head that didn't actually make sense. They convinced me that because I liked hanging out with him, that maybe I should go after him.
Bad idea.
He was a great friend, but looking back, did I really feel that way about him? I don't really think so.
I have seen this same thing happen so often around here, it's scary.
Girl finds a friend that's not a girl. Girl's other friends insinuate things. Girl starts to think that maybe her friends are right. Girl "likes" guy. Guy has no idea what the heck happened. Girl gets upset when he doesn't "like" her back.
I'm sure a simpler version of this happens with guys toward girls.
A huge problem at Bible College is the rumors. You would think that gossip would be less, considering...you know...it's wrong? But they're terrible.
Now, am I saying that every girl and guy that become friends should spend all of their time alone together? Not likely. I'm also not saying that no guys and girls that become friends should ever date.
There are kind of two points I wanted to get out of this.
The first is that people need to stop talking. Quit telling your friends who they do or should like. It can cause trouble. Quit spreading rumors. Quit gossiping. You could accidentally ruin a friendship, or send people into a relationship that they were never meant to be in. That's not fun. I've been guilty of this in the past, and I still have to stop myself from opening my mouth sometimes. It's an ongoing problem, especially with girls. We will never be perfect, but let's at least be aware of ourselves.
The second point is a little less obvious, and speaks more to the culture we have been raised in.
How many television shows that you currently watch show men, especially married men who are fathers, as the strong, leading, head of the household? How many show the fathers as complete morons, where most of the point of the show is to make fun of how stupid they are?
We are living in a culture that has taken feminism way to far...and that's coming from a female! Voting: great, working in fields that we couldn't previously: awesome, being allowed in schools: the best! (There's a whole lot more, and I'm sure I'll get some sort of bad reaction from some woman - probably one or more of my close friends, even - for saying all of this, but too bad.) The problem is that feminism has gone to the extreme. Instead of being happy being women, we're trying to be men. We're in a culture where men are degraded, made to look stupid, and are assigned labels if they so much as show that they care about another human being. Girls are being raised to pursue men, when it is written right into men, by GOD, to pursue women.
I'm not a huge fan of this turn of events. Men are men. Burp, fart, and scratch. They are stronger, and they love the challenge of finding the woman that they'll marry. It's part of their DNA. Women are constantly taking that away from them.
It's something I had to learn through stupid situations over the years, and it is something that I find that God has been reminding me of almost every night for the past month or so.
"He will pursue you."
To all of you girls out there: quit taking the guy's job away from him. He will pursue you. Quit trying to force things to happen that shouldn't be happening.
To all of you guys out there: if you have real feelings for a girl, pray. Talk to God about it. Talk to a mentor about it. If God gives you the okay, man up! Go against this ridiculous culture and pursue her!
.....
I'm sure I'm going to get some...interesting...comments on this post. In the end, take what you want from it, and don't be too offended by any of it. I'll stand by what I said, but don't let one person's opinion completely form you. Do your research. Talk to godly leaders that you trust. Make your own decisions; come to your own conclusions.
But back to me. (Because THAT didn't sound self-centered!)
I'll be here, praying, and waiting on God. God will put me with who I need to be with. He'll tell that guy when it's time to pursue me. Or maybe there is no guy. I don't know, and it's not my job to know right now, in this second. God will make it happen, and I'll be happy with whatever plan God has for my life. So for now, (this will sound SO corny) God's my date, and His Word is on the menu.
Wow.
WAY cornier than even I thought.
Goodnight!
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Churches, Buildings, and Goodbyes
Next Sunday will be a hard one for me.
I love my church VERY much. I love the leadership in place. I love the congregation (though I hate using that word...it's just so...churchy). I love the setup, with the tables and chairs. I adore the family-like feeling you get as you spend time there. I love the relaxed atmosphere that the people that attend create for themselves and each other.
I love teaching the kids upstairs almost every week. I love being there at 2:00 pm, when I really don't need to be there until at least 3. I love serving the people that go there, and I love living for my God as I do everything that I do there.
Everything that I love about my church is everything that I love about the people. I have heard it all of my life: "The people are the church, not the building."
I have always known and understood that.
Next Sunday is going to be the last time that our church meets in the building that we are currently in. I am extremely excited for this new chapter that we're entering, but my heart breaks a little every time I think of it, too.
You see, while the church is the people, that building was my home.
When I was about two years old, the building that stood before this one was demolished. I was around three years old when the current building was completed. In the top picture, you can see me in the bottom right hand corner, in a purple, pink, and blue jacket. I am front and center in the bottom photo.
One of my earliest memories was of the day that these photos were captured. I can remember walking on planks over the incomplete floor of the lobby, and I was able to see the unfinished staircase behind the wall that hadn't been put in, yet, at that time.
Over the years, the building was my second home. I went to preschool there (including the Teddy Bear Picnic day pictured below).
I knew every nook and crannie in that place. I was always the best at hide and seek. I could probably recite the entire history of not only the building, but the congregation that had been continuous for decades.
I was baptized there at 7 years old.
I didn't have the perfect childhood. I didn't have it easy during my teen years. But even when the rest of my life was falling down around me; even when I wasn't sure if I believed in God; even when I knew I couldn't trust some of the leadership at certain times...that building was my home.
I could sit here for hours, writing about every memory I have in that building. I could also sit here and preach (actually, no, I couldn't...I hate preaching) about how the church is the people, not the building.
It's very true. A building is just a building. Our church will move on, we will continue, and probably be a lot happier, healthier, and more secure in our new home. I am really excited for the move!
But part of my heart will always be with the building that never changed. The building that was always there, even when I had to leave my childhood home. The building that I could hide in so many little places and forget about the current struggles while remembering fun times in my past. The building that, no matter how many different times the wall colors changed, how many expensive TV screens went up, walls were built, rooms were changed and locked, people came in and out of leadership in...no matter how much that building changed, it always stayed the same. It was always my home.
So if you see me and I seem a little bit down, or can't quite seem to light up the way I usually do...if my smiles aren't as genuine, or my hyper-ness quite as hyped...I'm just a little bit sad.
Because yes, the people are the church, and we will move on, as a church, and we will thrive and be very happy! But Grace Christian Fellowship (as it will always be in my heart), 2606 Kingsway Avenue, Port Coquitlam, British Columbia, Canada, V3C 1T6, though a building, and not a church, will always be my home.
I love my church VERY much. I love the leadership in place. I love the congregation (though I hate using that word...it's just so...churchy). I love the setup, with the tables and chairs. I adore the family-like feeling you get as you spend time there. I love the relaxed atmosphere that the people that attend create for themselves and each other.
I love teaching the kids upstairs almost every week. I love being there at 2:00 pm, when I really don't need to be there until at least 3. I love serving the people that go there, and I love living for my God as I do everything that I do there.
Everything that I love about my church is everything that I love about the people. I have heard it all of my life: "The people are the church, not the building."
I have always known and understood that.
Next Sunday is going to be the last time that our church meets in the building that we are currently in. I am extremely excited for this new chapter that we're entering, but my heart breaks a little every time I think of it, too.
You see, while the church is the people, that building was my home.
When I was about two years old, the building that stood before this one was demolished. I was around three years old when the current building was completed. In the top picture, you can see me in the bottom right hand corner, in a purple, pink, and blue jacket. I am front and center in the bottom photo.
One of my earliest memories was of the day that these photos were captured. I can remember walking on planks over the incomplete floor of the lobby, and I was able to see the unfinished staircase behind the wall that hadn't been put in, yet, at that time.
Over the years, the building was my second home. I went to preschool there (including the Teddy Bear Picnic day pictured below).
I went to Sunday School, tagged along with my aunt's youth group, went to the "Hallelujah Hoedown" (a very 90's Halloween alternative) after trick or treating. I was dressed in a clown costume for a church carnival. I was an angel in FAR too many Christmas productions. I posed with the hand painted nativity set when I was about seven years old. I sang "I Wanna Be Like A Tree...." in the kids' choir, and played on our playground. I even got my "Religion in Life" badge when I was in Brownies at that church.
I was baptized there at 7 years old.
I didn't have the perfect childhood. I didn't have it easy during my teen years. But even when the rest of my life was falling down around me; even when I wasn't sure if I believed in God; even when I knew I couldn't trust some of the leadership at certain times...that building was my home.
I could sit here for hours, writing about every memory I have in that building. I could also sit here and preach (actually, no, I couldn't...I hate preaching) about how the church is the people, not the building.
It's very true. A building is just a building. Our church will move on, we will continue, and probably be a lot happier, healthier, and more secure in our new home. I am really excited for the move!
But part of my heart will always be with the building that never changed. The building that was always there, even when I had to leave my childhood home. The building that I could hide in so many little places and forget about the current struggles while remembering fun times in my past. The building that, no matter how many different times the wall colors changed, how many expensive TV screens went up, walls were built, rooms were changed and locked, people came in and out of leadership in...no matter how much that building changed, it always stayed the same. It was always my home.
So if you see me and I seem a little bit down, or can't quite seem to light up the way I usually do...if my smiles aren't as genuine, or my hyper-ness quite as hyped...I'm just a little bit sad.
Because yes, the people are the church, and we will move on, as a church, and we will thrive and be very happy! But Grace Christian Fellowship (as it will always be in my heart), 2606 Kingsway Avenue, Port Coquitlam, British Columbia, Canada, V3C 1T6, though a building, and not a church, will always be my home.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
Temptation, Lies, Attitude, and Caffeine Withdrawls
Temptation is horrible.
It all started out with God asking me to give some things up, as mentioned in an earlier post. Some are simple, like giving up How I Met Your Mother. Others are harder, like taking time away from people that aren't great for me, or even harder things that are more personal.
I was doing pretty well. I had made a list of what I was giving up along with some things that I was going to try harder at.
It was good. I was happy. Nervous, but happy. I had given a copy of the list to someone who I KNEW would keep me accountable, and I had kept a list for myself.
School was going well. I was trying harder, and was not only up to date with everything, but even ahead in some areas - something that is very odd for me.
My devos and God time were going great. If I wasn't reading a textbook, I was reading my Bible, highlighting like mad, writing key verses out on sticky notes, and spending some awesome times talking to God.
Then the temptation hit. It only took about three days after I made my commitment to start. It was the little voice in my head...
"It's not that bad...You don't need to give it up...God won't care...Nobody will even know...It would be so easy!"
I realized very quickly that not only is temptation hard in and of itself, it breeds and spreads loneliness and isolation the way that dorm door handles and Clement's cups rampantly spread Dorm Plague.
I was so consumed with not breaking my promise to God, that I found myself hiding away in my room, trying to concentrate on textbooks at all times. It gave me too much time to let my mind wander to all of those dark places where insecure 16 year old Kelly still hides out sometimes. I realized that there was only one person that I had told about everything on that list, and it wasn't fair to anyone for me to need to talk to her about my struggle every ten minutes. I found myself very alone, not even able to truly have fun even when others were around distracting me.
By this morning, I was full of the negative attitude that I have been trying to overcome for months, now. That attitude, mixed with the fact that I spent 3 hours in the library on a Saturday working on an assignment worth less than 2% of my final grade for that class...and my lack of caffeine (maybe my next habit I need to curb?)...I wasn't exactly patient when a few questions took longer than others.
I was very lucky to have worked with three very patient women who, to their extreme credit, didn't tell me to get lost and do the assignment on my own after I complained...a lot. I definitely owe them an apology for my attitude.
I have great friends around me, a family that loves me even when I leave stuff piled around the house when I'm in a hurry to move, a church that believes in me like crazy for who knows WHAT reasons, and a God that loves me, takes care of me, provides me with people here on Earth who will put up with me, and has huge grace for a kid who has trouble keeping her attitude in check.
I am blessed beyond what I can ever imagine.
Now, if I could only keep that in mind when the coffee shop is closed on homework days....
It all started out with God asking me to give some things up, as mentioned in an earlier post. Some are simple, like giving up How I Met Your Mother. Others are harder, like taking time away from people that aren't great for me, or even harder things that are more personal.
I was doing pretty well. I had made a list of what I was giving up along with some things that I was going to try harder at.
It was good. I was happy. Nervous, but happy. I had given a copy of the list to someone who I KNEW would keep me accountable, and I had kept a list for myself.
School was going well. I was trying harder, and was not only up to date with everything, but even ahead in some areas - something that is very odd for me.
My devos and God time were going great. If I wasn't reading a textbook, I was reading my Bible, highlighting like mad, writing key verses out on sticky notes, and spending some awesome times talking to God.
Then the temptation hit. It only took about three days after I made my commitment to start. It was the little voice in my head...
"It's not that bad...You don't need to give it up...God won't care...Nobody will even know...It would be so easy!"
I realized very quickly that not only is temptation hard in and of itself, it breeds and spreads loneliness and isolation the way that dorm door handles and Clement's cups rampantly spread Dorm Plague.
I was so consumed with not breaking my promise to God, that I found myself hiding away in my room, trying to concentrate on textbooks at all times. It gave me too much time to let my mind wander to all of those dark places where insecure 16 year old Kelly still hides out sometimes. I realized that there was only one person that I had told about everything on that list, and it wasn't fair to anyone for me to need to talk to her about my struggle every ten minutes. I found myself very alone, not even able to truly have fun even when others were around distracting me.
By this morning, I was full of the negative attitude that I have been trying to overcome for months, now. That attitude, mixed with the fact that I spent 3 hours in the library on a Saturday working on an assignment worth less than 2% of my final grade for that class...and my lack of caffeine (maybe my next habit I need to curb?)...I wasn't exactly patient when a few questions took longer than others.
I was very lucky to have worked with three very patient women who, to their extreme credit, didn't tell me to get lost and do the assignment on my own after I complained...a lot. I definitely owe them an apology for my attitude.
I have great friends around me, a family that loves me even when I leave stuff piled around the house when I'm in a hurry to move, a church that believes in me like crazy for who knows WHAT reasons, and a God that loves me, takes care of me, provides me with people here on Earth who will put up with me, and has huge grace for a kid who has trouble keeping her attitude in check.
I am blessed beyond what I can ever imagine.
Now, if I could only keep that in mind when the coffee shop is closed on homework days....
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Double Standards
I am guilty of holding a major double standard.
No, it's not the double standard that some fathers have, where their teenage sons can go and do whatever they want, while their teenage daughters are restricted to curfews. (And let's face it, I've heard it from someone I am quite close to that wasn't a Christian and was a father of teens. The girls weren't allowed out because they could come home pregnant, when the boys couldn't.)
I don't have a double standard about who should or shouldn't be in ministry.
It's not a double standard that I had ever even thought about until recently.
When I was a young, naive 16 year old, I had a friend who wasn't even a Christian. I remember playing truth or dare with her one night, and she was sitting there telling me about how she had "finally lost her virginity." I remember being so upset by that fact. I had grown up in church, in a youth group, in a Christian school where that was a big no-no before you were married. Yes, I had heard every analogy on the subject you could think of. "You're like a flower. Every time you do something with a boy, you give one of your petals away. When you get married, you'll just be a stick."
I'm not even kidding.
Then, a year or two later, a close friend of mine, this time a Christian, told me that she had been living with her boyfriend in every sense of the word. I was angry. How could she not understand that it was wrong?! Or worse, she DID know that it was wrong, but continued to do it anyway!
I was a judgemental fool. I accept that. I promise that I've grown since then. (Come on, I was like 18 and stupid!)
All of that time, I was upset by these things.
The other day, I was watching the season finale of a sitcom I tend to follow during the summer months, called Melissa and Joey. It's a cute little show starring two of the 90's dream teens, all grown up. For three seasons, there was the whole will-they-won't-they sexual tension.
At the end of season three, they ended up sleeping together.
Being the obnoxious TV child that I am, I was all happy because they were finally going to be together.
Then it hit me.
Double standard, much?
Here I am, cheering on all of these television couples...hoping that the writers will finally stop playing with the viewers' heads, and get the couples together, already...yet, I know that in almost every case, especially where the characters are long time friends, it'll happen because they sleep together. Outside of marriage. Always outside of marriage.
Seriously! And I know I'm not the only one. I expect way more of the people around me than the people on television.
No, this realization isn't going to immediately stop me from watching my favorite TV shows, and I'm not going to be unhappy when my nerd side comes out and my favorite couples get together.
But I will think twice about the implications of the double standard our Christian society often holds between the real world all around us, and the shows we find ourselves watching every week.
No, it's not the double standard that some fathers have, where their teenage sons can go and do whatever they want, while their teenage daughters are restricted to curfews. (And let's face it, I've heard it from someone I am quite close to that wasn't a Christian and was a father of teens. The girls weren't allowed out because they could come home pregnant, when the boys couldn't.)
I don't have a double standard about who should or shouldn't be in ministry.
It's not a double standard that I had ever even thought about until recently.
When I was a young, naive 16 year old, I had a friend who wasn't even a Christian. I remember playing truth or dare with her one night, and she was sitting there telling me about how she had "finally lost her virginity." I remember being so upset by that fact. I had grown up in church, in a youth group, in a Christian school where that was a big no-no before you were married. Yes, I had heard every analogy on the subject you could think of. "You're like a flower. Every time you do something with a boy, you give one of your petals away. When you get married, you'll just be a stick."
I'm not even kidding.
Then, a year or two later, a close friend of mine, this time a Christian, told me that she had been living with her boyfriend in every sense of the word. I was angry. How could she not understand that it was wrong?! Or worse, she DID know that it was wrong, but continued to do it anyway!
I was a judgemental fool. I accept that. I promise that I've grown since then. (Come on, I was like 18 and stupid!)
All of that time, I was upset by these things.
The other day, I was watching the season finale of a sitcom I tend to follow during the summer months, called Melissa and Joey. It's a cute little show starring two of the 90's dream teens, all grown up. For three seasons, there was the whole will-they-won't-they sexual tension.
At the end of season three, they ended up sleeping together.
Being the obnoxious TV child that I am, I was all happy because they were finally going to be together.
Then it hit me.
Double standard, much?
Here I am, cheering on all of these television couples...hoping that the writers will finally stop playing with the viewers' heads, and get the couples together, already...yet, I know that in almost every case, especially where the characters are long time friends, it'll happen because they sleep together. Outside of marriage. Always outside of marriage.
Seriously! And I know I'm not the only one. I expect way more of the people around me than the people on television.
No, this realization isn't going to immediately stop me from watching my favorite TV shows, and I'm not going to be unhappy when my nerd side comes out and my favorite couples get together.
But I will think twice about the implications of the double standard our Christian society often holds between the real world all around us, and the shows we find ourselves watching every week.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
The Backstory, Followers, and Barney Stinson, Part 3
This is the final piece of the big, massive, introductory post. Thanks for reading!
So now we're up to date.
Last week, in chapel, Dennis spoke about being a community that is sold out to God. He handed out a paper with the community living guidelines for our college, asking us to read them over and sign them only if we intended to uphold those standards.
Many of them were easy for me. I don't need to drink on my birthday. I don't need to watch R (or worse) rated movies in common areas (or at all!). Simple things like that.
But it wasn't what was on that list that I happily signed that got to me.
It was another point he made.
We are living in community with others. Some of them are struggling with things. Some are recovering alcoholics, or are coming out of drug addiction recovery programs. Some are trying to quit smoking. Some are struggling with pornography, and even higher rated movies or over the top chick flicks can cause trouble for them. Some have a history with the dark side of the spiritual realm, are or have been under spiritual attack, or even have excessive fears, and are easily triggered by horror films.
We need to support the people around us who are trying to change their lives by taking those steps with them. Do I really need to watch a horror movie, even if it's on my own in my room? Do I really need to sit there watching a movie with "only one kind of sketchy scene! They were covered by a sheet!" ? Do I really need to sit there and laugh at dirty humor, even if it's just with one or two friends who also laugh at it?
NO! I don't!!!
He made another point, one that had a few people whispering and rolling their eyes.
Dennis talked about the show, How I Met Your Mother, aka HIMYM.
I'm not even going to lightly cover up the fact that I have seen every single episode of that show. I loved it. I thought it was hilarious. I thought it had good writing, good acting, and cute love stories.
But there is a point to be made. That show is all about Barney Stinson, the man who has slept with nearly every woman in New York City. If he hasn't got her yet, he's on the hunt for her!
Just the day before chapel, I had been re-watching the last couple of episodes from last season, prepping for the season premiere next week. I really liked that show.
But God was digging at me. The show isn't as much about that now as it once was. Barney is getting married. The humor has mellowed a little, and it isn't quite as raunchy as it once was.
For several days, I was thinking it over. It's not the WORST show on television. It's not as bad as it once was. It's not like I'm telling everyone around me that they should watch it.
"It's the last season!!!" (A line I've heard in nearly a high-pitched whine coming from many students, including myself.)
So now we're up to date.
Last week, in chapel, Dennis spoke about being a community that is sold out to God. He handed out a paper with the community living guidelines for our college, asking us to read them over and sign them only if we intended to uphold those standards.
Many of them were easy for me. I don't need to drink on my birthday. I don't need to watch R (or worse) rated movies in common areas (or at all!). Simple things like that.
But it wasn't what was on that list that I happily signed that got to me.
It was another point he made.
We are living in community with others. Some of them are struggling with things. Some are recovering alcoholics, or are coming out of drug addiction recovery programs. Some are trying to quit smoking. Some are struggling with pornography, and even higher rated movies or over the top chick flicks can cause trouble for them. Some have a history with the dark side of the spiritual realm, are or have been under spiritual attack, or even have excessive fears, and are easily triggered by horror films.
We need to support the people around us who are trying to change their lives by taking those steps with them. Do I really need to watch a horror movie, even if it's on my own in my room? Do I really need to sit there watching a movie with "only one kind of sketchy scene! They were covered by a sheet!" ? Do I really need to sit there and laugh at dirty humor, even if it's just with one or two friends who also laugh at it?
NO! I don't!!!
He made another point, one that had a few people whispering and rolling their eyes.
Dennis talked about the show, How I Met Your Mother, aka HIMYM.
I'm not even going to lightly cover up the fact that I have seen every single episode of that show. I loved it. I thought it was hilarious. I thought it had good writing, good acting, and cute love stories.
But there is a point to be made. That show is all about Barney Stinson, the man who has slept with nearly every woman in New York City. If he hasn't got her yet, he's on the hunt for her!
Just the day before chapel, I had been re-watching the last couple of episodes from last season, prepping for the season premiere next week. I really liked that show.
But God was digging at me. The show isn't as much about that now as it once was. Barney is getting married. The humor has mellowed a little, and it isn't quite as raunchy as it once was.
For several days, I was thinking it over. It's not the WORST show on television. It's not as bad as it once was. It's not like I'm telling everyone around me that they should watch it.
"It's the last season!!!" (A line I've heard in nearly a high-pitched whine coming from many students, including myself.)
But that's not the point. The point is that the show values crap. It values dirty humor and sex. It doesn't matter if it's not that bad. It's bad enough. And moreover, God has asked me to stop watching it. So that is what I am doing. It's one of a small list of things that I felt God asking me to give up when I was at Rockridge.
I have some great accountability for those things, and I intend to listen to Him and do what He is asking of me. It's not a huge thing, giving up a show that I really like, choosing friends more wisely, not napping just because I'm a little tired....they're little things, but God is asking me to do them.
I wasn't planning on making a point out of this, but I guess I am, now. Is there something really dumb and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things that maybe nudges at you? Is it something that's just a little bit outside of what God wants for us? Is it something maybe He is calling you to sacrifice to not only have a better relationship with Him, but to help the people around you?
Think about it.
I have some great accountability for those things, and I intend to listen to Him and do what He is asking of me. It's not a huge thing, giving up a show that I really like, choosing friends more wisely, not napping just because I'm a little tired....they're little things, but God is asking me to do them.
I wasn't planning on making a point out of this, but I guess I am, now. Is there something really dumb and inconsequential in the grand scheme of things that maybe nudges at you? Is it something that's just a little bit outside of what God wants for us? Is it something maybe He is calling you to sacrifice to not only have a better relationship with Him, but to help the people around you?
Think about it.
Oh, and thanks for reading! :)
The Backstory, Followers, and Barney Stinson, Part 2
This continues directly on from my previous post.
For that class, I had to get a mentor. I had asked Jaki, and she said that she needed to pray about it, and I'm thanking God that she took me on. We had already had a few good talks that year about some of the crap in my life, but I am as stubborn as a freakin' mule. She knew that I would be a challenge, but she took me on, anyway.
We had to do all of these personal response papers (yeah, they weren't even close to done on time), and we had to meet with our mentors and talk about the class, and our lives.
It was during this whole time, when the stuff from my past was brought up, I realized I knew nothing about being a Christian, and my attitude was terrible, that I had a major issue.
I realized that part of my brain could somehow use really screwy logic to eliminate God. I went through several months where I had no clue if I was a Christian, if there even was a God, and if I could ever believe in Him, even if there was some remote chance out there that He was real.
Most of the semester continued with me not doing any homework, walking around in a daze, shutting down emotionally, and fighting with Jaki that there couldn't be a God, and that we looked just as crazy and unbelievable as I had been told some other religions or cults looked.
Things began to take a turn for the better, and I went on the 6 week tour with my school. Thankfully, Jaki was on it with me. This whole crisis of faith kept popping up during those six weeks. I remember there were two nights in a row in the middle of nowhere where we stayed in hotels after really long drives. The second night was one of the few nights that will stand out in my mind forever.
I had had some sort of stupid disagreement with one of the girls on the team. This wasn't an unusual occurrence when stuck in a van with 10 other people for 6 weeks on end. As everyone got settled into their rooms for the night, I took my Bible, notebook, and pen, and stormed out the door into the courtyard outside. I spent nearly half an hour just fuming about everything, and thinking that it was about time that I called my family and got them to fly me home. I'd pay them back with a job that summer. I was so done, and I just didn't care.
Jaki finally came out and we began to talk. It started with me just ranting about everything that I felt was going wrong on tour, and ended with over an hour of me sobbing because I didn't know if I would ever be able to fully believe in God again. Nothing was resolved that night, except that I knew that Jaki wasn't giving up on me any time soon.
There were a few other really tough nights on tour, one of them being the night where we prayed and asked for words from God to give each other. It was our second to last night. We were in Edmonton. I finally left, crying, for awhile. I still didn't know if I even believed in God, so how could I sit there like I did and do this activity?
There was no resolution on tour. I went home happy that I had had the experience with everyone, but I still didn't know, deep down, if I could ever truly be a follower of Christ.
The day after I got home, I began my internship at my home church. I spent an entire summer working with some of the people that I trust, respect, and look up to most in the world. Our church and our leadership went through more crap this summer than I have ever seen, but we made it through. Not only did I get to see, over and over again, real followers of Jesus in action, but I got to see so VERY clearly how God works. There were maybe 5-10 distinct situations that happened this summer that I could pick out and almost draw a diagram of how God used those horrible, crappy moments to move our church right into the direction He wanted us to go in at the end of the summer. After everything had happened, and plans had been made due to all of those issues at the very end of August, I found myself sitting there in the tiny little office, talking to Doug and Rebecca about how I could almost see it as an image in my mind. All summer, little things had happened, that had progressively gotten worse and worse, finally making a decision for us. This decision, though is totally a massive door opened just by God, because there is no other possible way that it could have happened the way it did.
I am so thankful for this past summer. I learned how to love God again. I learned why the Bible and devotions are so important. I watched and learned from people who have given their entire lives, every minute of every day, to Him and His work. I saw His plan for our church SO clearly, and the way that He used all of those little (and BIG!) hopeless, crappy situations to get us to where we needed to be.
Most of all, I left my summer at the church with a new attitude about everything. Devotions and spending time with God are top priority. Classes aren't just school. They are life lessons that need to be learned and appreciated. Homework isn't torture, it's the best way that the teacher can think of to really drive home an important point. Friends influence you. Choose them wisely, and limit time spent with ones that may be leading you off track. The people in authority over you aren't there to make your lives horrible. They are often older, and almost always wiser, and want to see you become everything that God wants you to be. Make commitments to God and STICK WITH THEM!
For that class, I had to get a mentor. I had asked Jaki, and she said that she needed to pray about it, and I'm thanking God that she took me on. We had already had a few good talks that year about some of the crap in my life, but I am as stubborn as a freakin' mule. She knew that I would be a challenge, but she took me on, anyway.
We had to do all of these personal response papers (yeah, they weren't even close to done on time), and we had to meet with our mentors and talk about the class, and our lives.
It was during this whole time, when the stuff from my past was brought up, I realized I knew nothing about being a Christian, and my attitude was terrible, that I had a major issue.
I realized that part of my brain could somehow use really screwy logic to eliminate God. I went through several months where I had no clue if I was a Christian, if there even was a God, and if I could ever believe in Him, even if there was some remote chance out there that He was real.
Most of the semester continued with me not doing any homework, walking around in a daze, shutting down emotionally, and fighting with Jaki that there couldn't be a God, and that we looked just as crazy and unbelievable as I had been told some other religions or cults looked.
Things began to take a turn for the better, and I went on the 6 week tour with my school. Thankfully, Jaki was on it with me. This whole crisis of faith kept popping up during those six weeks. I remember there were two nights in a row in the middle of nowhere where we stayed in hotels after really long drives. The second night was one of the few nights that will stand out in my mind forever.
I had had some sort of stupid disagreement with one of the girls on the team. This wasn't an unusual occurrence when stuck in a van with 10 other people for 6 weeks on end. As everyone got settled into their rooms for the night, I took my Bible, notebook, and pen, and stormed out the door into the courtyard outside. I spent nearly half an hour just fuming about everything, and thinking that it was about time that I called my family and got them to fly me home. I'd pay them back with a job that summer. I was so done, and I just didn't care.
Jaki finally came out and we began to talk. It started with me just ranting about everything that I felt was going wrong on tour, and ended with over an hour of me sobbing because I didn't know if I would ever be able to fully believe in God again. Nothing was resolved that night, except that I knew that Jaki wasn't giving up on me any time soon.
There were a few other really tough nights on tour, one of them being the night where we prayed and asked for words from God to give each other. It was our second to last night. We were in Edmonton. I finally left, crying, for awhile. I still didn't know if I even believed in God, so how could I sit there like I did and do this activity?
There was no resolution on tour. I went home happy that I had had the experience with everyone, but I still didn't know, deep down, if I could ever truly be a follower of Christ.
The day after I got home, I began my internship at my home church. I spent an entire summer working with some of the people that I trust, respect, and look up to most in the world. Our church and our leadership went through more crap this summer than I have ever seen, but we made it through. Not only did I get to see, over and over again, real followers of Jesus in action, but I got to see so VERY clearly how God works. There were maybe 5-10 distinct situations that happened this summer that I could pick out and almost draw a diagram of how God used those horrible, crappy moments to move our church right into the direction He wanted us to go in at the end of the summer. After everything had happened, and plans had been made due to all of those issues at the very end of August, I found myself sitting there in the tiny little office, talking to Doug and Rebecca about how I could almost see it as an image in my mind. All summer, little things had happened, that had progressively gotten worse and worse, finally making a decision for us. This decision, though is totally a massive door opened just by God, because there is no other possible way that it could have happened the way it did.
I am so thankful for this past summer. I learned how to love God again. I learned why the Bible and devotions are so important. I watched and learned from people who have given their entire lives, every minute of every day, to Him and His work. I saw His plan for our church SO clearly, and the way that He used all of those little (and BIG!) hopeless, crappy situations to get us to where we needed to be.
Most of all, I left my summer at the church with a new attitude about everything. Devotions and spending time with God are top priority. Classes aren't just school. They are life lessons that need to be learned and appreciated. Homework isn't torture, it's the best way that the teacher can think of to really drive home an important point. Friends influence you. Choose them wisely, and limit time spent with ones that may be leading you off track. The people in authority over you aren't there to make your lives horrible. They are often older, and almost always wiser, and want to see you become everything that God wants you to be. Make commitments to God and STICK WITH THEM!
The Backstory, Followers, and Barney Stinson, Part 1
I originally had this and the following two posts all as one massive post, but I decided to break it up a little bit.
Sometime within the next few weeks, I am going to be sharing my testimony in my lifegroup at my Bible College.
It always starts out the same. "I was born and raised in a Christian home..." Lately, though, I've been rethinking that. Yes, I was raised in church and in Sunday School. I went to a private Christian school, and eventually to youth group in my teen years. I taught Sunday School from the time I should have still been in Sunday School. I was the good Christian girl who didn't go to parties, didn't cause trouble, and didn't even date. I loved Jesus and that was it.
Sometime within the next few weeks, I am going to be sharing my testimony in my lifegroup at my Bible College.
It always starts out the same. "I was born and raised in a Christian home..." Lately, though, I've been rethinking that. Yes, I was raised in church and in Sunday School. I went to a private Christian school, and eventually to youth group in my teen years. I taught Sunday School from the time I should have still been in Sunday School. I was the good Christian girl who didn't go to parties, didn't cause trouble, and didn't even date. I loved Jesus and that was it.
Every year, my college has a "theme". This year's theme is FOLLOW. Dennis, our president, showed us a video and spoke about being a Fan vs. a Follower.
I liked Jesus. I liked church. I liked the Bible. I liked my other do-gooder friends. I was a fan of Christianity.
It wasn't until this past calendar year that I began to realize (without putting it into so many words) that I didn't really know anything. I didn't know the Bible, though I had studied it in classes since I was in Kindergarten, been one of the best at "Sword Drills" in Sunday School, and could rattle off any number of "memory verses" that I had been forced into learning for school on cue. I didn't really know who Jesus was, though I could tell you all of the parables that I had learned from the Donut Man, or anything you wanted to know about His birth, death, or other common Sunday School stories. I had no clue what or who the Holy Spirit was, except that talking about it caused anxiety in me due to an unfortunate, scary fight I once had on the topic of whether or not I was a Christian if I didn't speak in tongues with someone I thought I could respect and look up to. Worst of all, I didn't know God. I prayed when I was worried, sick, or needed something. Once in awhile, I'd actually focus during a worship service and sing the words to God. But that was it.
Then came the semester of all semesters. The stretching of all stretchings. I had three courses, all of which I thought would come easy to me. One of them was Holy Spirit class. The next, Youth Crisis and Intervention. The third, Spiritual Formation 2.
Now, let's get this straight. I'm not a student. Well, I am but I'm not. I hate school. I've always hated school. I hate long classes where I need to attempt to focus for three hours on one subject and one teacher. I hate writing papers. I constantly find myself staring at the blank white Word document wanting to tear my hair out. I don't do well in stressful, testing environments (though I seem to get my best grades on exams....?). I am here because God wants me here. I am NOT here because I necessarily decided one day that I want to torture myself with 12-15 page papers or group projects that should take 30-50 hours outside of class to complete.
Back to last semester. Holy Spirit was the first one to begin changing me. I had a great, meaningful conversation with my current pastor, who is the first pastor I have trusted since I was about 8 years old. He helped to set the record straight on ideas that had been put in my head over my lifetime. Being raised in 4 different Christian denominations simultaneously had kind of had me thinking everything that was right and wrong all at the same time. I began reading the textbook for that class and was completely shocked that I had never really learned ANYTHING about the Holy Spirit in my entire life as a Christian.
Youth Crisis and Intervention was an intensive, meaning an entire course of teaching packed into one week while I continued doing my normal classes. I've had one every semester that I've been here, and they always exhaust me. I figured that because I had worked with some troubled teens over the previous year and a half, that the class wouldn't bother me as they had warned it might. I was wrong. Nothing in the class shocked me...I had heard it all before, but it brought up many things in my past that I had suppressed, forgotten, or just pushed in a box and decided not to deal with. It wrecked me.
The last class, Spiritual Formation 2, was disappointing at first. For my entire first year, and the first half of my second year, I had first been trying to think of ways to get out of, and then got excited for the fact that the class is really based off of the Freedom Sessions program. At first I had been terrified. I didn't want to deal with my past! Then I was super excited to finally do it! That was when we found out that they had revamped the class, completely dropping Freedom Sessions from it.
I walked in there with a bad attitude. And not a little one, a MASSIVELY BAD ATTITUDE. I didn't care anymore. I didn't want to do it. It was officially just another stupid class that I was being forced to take.
I AM AN IDIOT.
I liked Jesus. I liked church. I liked the Bible. I liked my other do-gooder friends. I was a fan of Christianity.
It wasn't until this past calendar year that I began to realize (without putting it into so many words) that I didn't really know anything. I didn't know the Bible, though I had studied it in classes since I was in Kindergarten, been one of the best at "Sword Drills" in Sunday School, and could rattle off any number of "memory verses" that I had been forced into learning for school on cue. I didn't really know who Jesus was, though I could tell you all of the parables that I had learned from the Donut Man, or anything you wanted to know about His birth, death, or other common Sunday School stories. I had no clue what or who the Holy Spirit was, except that talking about it caused anxiety in me due to an unfortunate, scary fight I once had on the topic of whether or not I was a Christian if I didn't speak in tongues with someone I thought I could respect and look up to. Worst of all, I didn't know God. I prayed when I was worried, sick, or needed something. Once in awhile, I'd actually focus during a worship service and sing the words to God. But that was it.
Then came the semester of all semesters. The stretching of all stretchings. I had three courses, all of which I thought would come easy to me. One of them was Holy Spirit class. The next, Youth Crisis and Intervention. The third, Spiritual Formation 2.
Now, let's get this straight. I'm not a student. Well, I am but I'm not. I hate school. I've always hated school. I hate long classes where I need to attempt to focus for three hours on one subject and one teacher. I hate writing papers. I constantly find myself staring at the blank white Word document wanting to tear my hair out. I don't do well in stressful, testing environments (though I seem to get my best grades on exams....?). I am here because God wants me here. I am NOT here because I necessarily decided one day that I want to torture myself with 12-15 page papers or group projects that should take 30-50 hours outside of class to complete.
Back to last semester. Holy Spirit was the first one to begin changing me. I had a great, meaningful conversation with my current pastor, who is the first pastor I have trusted since I was about 8 years old. He helped to set the record straight on ideas that had been put in my head over my lifetime. Being raised in 4 different Christian denominations simultaneously had kind of had me thinking everything that was right and wrong all at the same time. I began reading the textbook for that class and was completely shocked that I had never really learned ANYTHING about the Holy Spirit in my entire life as a Christian.
Youth Crisis and Intervention was an intensive, meaning an entire course of teaching packed into one week while I continued doing my normal classes. I've had one every semester that I've been here, and they always exhaust me. I figured that because I had worked with some troubled teens over the previous year and a half, that the class wouldn't bother me as they had warned it might. I was wrong. Nothing in the class shocked me...I had heard it all before, but it brought up many things in my past that I had suppressed, forgotten, or just pushed in a box and decided not to deal with. It wrecked me.
The last class, Spiritual Formation 2, was disappointing at first. For my entire first year, and the first half of my second year, I had first been trying to think of ways to get out of, and then got excited for the fact that the class is really based off of the Freedom Sessions program. At first I had been terrified. I didn't want to deal with my past! Then I was super excited to finally do it! That was when we found out that they had revamped the class, completely dropping Freedom Sessions from it.
I walked in there with a bad attitude. And not a little one, a MASSIVELY BAD ATTITUDE. I didn't care anymore. I didn't want to do it. It was officially just another stupid class that I was being forced to take.
I AM AN IDIOT.
