I was listening to a great talk by Mark Driscoll, the pastor of Mars Hill Church in Seattle, on joy (from Philippians) and I was really struck by this question:
Why do we want the fairytale life?
This may seem an odd thing to ask - I'd never questioned it before. Of course I want - even expect - a good home and a happy family and the right job and a loving husband. I believed God would give them to me (in his timing, of course) because I wanted them.
But that isn't right, is it?
Think about it. Who is the person we are supposed to be modelling our lives on as Christians?
Jesus. That's an easy one.
Here's the crunch. Did Jesus have any of those things that go in my vision of 'the good life'?
No.
Jesus was poor. He came from a humble carpenter's family from a backwater town. Later, he was an itinerant preacher, relying on the support of others. Jesus didn't always have happy relationships with everybody. His friends abandoned and betrayed him. Jesus wasn't married - he didn't need an 'other half' to make him complete. And his job certainly wasn't stress free.
So if that is what kind of life Jesus, my Lord and Savoiur led, why do I think I deserve anything else? Why should I want anything else?
Monday, July 28, 2008
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Haunted
Some of my university friends and I - two guys and two other girls - really enjoy watching movies together and eating a lot of junk food. So we've developed a holiday ritual of crashing at someone's house, hiring three or four movies and lazing on the couch all day. Now, particularly because of the influence of the boys, we tend to watch a lot of thriller and horror movies.
We had such a movie day last Wednesday, and I have been haunted ever since. The first movie the group decided to watch was Wolf Creek, which is an Australian horror movie. It has an 18 plus rating in most countries and it definitely requires it, because it has haunted me since.
And I only lasted for half the movie.
Most of the first part of the movie is spent setting it up, but when it starts to get gory, it goes all the way and very quickly. After 10 minutes of this, I was crying, shaking and completely nauseated.
One of my male friends, who regularly watches this kind of movie, was surprised by my strong response to what I was watching and hearing. He made a remark that seemed to imply he thought I should be able to seperate reality from the make up, effects and acting that is on the screen. I was unable to answer him at the time, and at that point, the other guy (whose house it was) stopped the movie to escort me to somewhere I could sit and entertain myself for the rest of the movie, as he could see I wasn't enjoying it.
Though he will probably not see it, here is my answer to why I think I responded so strongly to the scenes in Wolf Creek. One is that, in Australia, this story of kidnapped and tortured backpackers is not so far-fetched. We have had two high profile cases in my lifetime of backpackers or stranded tourists picked up off the highway and killed, sometimes in very brutal ways. The second is that this film is really confronting in the fac that it gives no excuses for the cruelty and sadistic inhumanity of the villain. In the other thriller/horror films we watched that day, we saw violence and death blamed on haunted houses, on curses and hoodoo, on alien invaders, and on schizophrenics who believe they're God. The killer in Wolf Creek was none of these things. He simply... killed and raped and tortured because he found pleasure in it. He found pleasure in evil.
I fear this. I fear it, because I know there is a tiny bit of this madness in every soul on this Earth. My own included, for certain. Because when we're left alone, in the wilderness, and all the rules seem to go out the window, this is what can come out. Maybe not to the same degree, in the same gruesome way, but it is there.
I certainly won't be watching horror movies anymore. It scares me too much, but not in the way most people think. I am not afraid of blood; I am afraid of people.
We had such a movie day last Wednesday, and I have been haunted ever since. The first movie the group decided to watch was Wolf Creek, which is an Australian horror movie. It has an 18 plus rating in most countries and it definitely requires it, because it has haunted me since.
And I only lasted for half the movie.
Most of the first part of the movie is spent setting it up, but when it starts to get gory, it goes all the way and very quickly. After 10 minutes of this, I was crying, shaking and completely nauseated.
One of my male friends, who regularly watches this kind of movie, was surprised by my strong response to what I was watching and hearing. He made a remark that seemed to imply he thought I should be able to seperate reality from the make up, effects and acting that is on the screen. I was unable to answer him at the time, and at that point, the other guy (whose house it was) stopped the movie to escort me to somewhere I could sit and entertain myself for the rest of the movie, as he could see I wasn't enjoying it.
Though he will probably not see it, here is my answer to why I think I responded so strongly to the scenes in Wolf Creek. One is that, in Australia, this story of kidnapped and tortured backpackers is not so far-fetched. We have had two high profile cases in my lifetime of backpackers or stranded tourists picked up off the highway and killed, sometimes in very brutal ways. The second is that this film is really confronting in the fac that it gives no excuses for the cruelty and sadistic inhumanity of the villain. In the other thriller/horror films we watched that day, we saw violence and death blamed on haunted houses, on curses and hoodoo, on alien invaders, and on schizophrenics who believe they're God. The killer in Wolf Creek was none of these things. He simply... killed and raped and tortured because he found pleasure in it. He found pleasure in evil.
I fear this. I fear it, because I know there is a tiny bit of this madness in every soul on this Earth. My own included, for certain. Because when we're left alone, in the wilderness, and all the rules seem to go out the window, this is what can come out. Maybe not to the same degree, in the same gruesome way, but it is there.
I certainly won't be watching horror movies anymore. It scares me too much, but not in the way most people think. I am not afraid of blood; I am afraid of people.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Words, words, words...
Words, words, words
I'm so sick of words
All I get all day through
First from him, now from you!
Is that all you blighters can do?
I don't know about you, but I get very sick of words and talking in general. One of the things I hate the most, is listening to the drivel that comes out of my own mouth. My mother has tapes of my sister and I talking when we're little, because she wanted to record our baby voices. She thinks they're cute; I cringe when I hear them, becuase what I am saying is such nonsense. The problem is, I've never grown out of it. Half of what comes out of my mouth is time-wasting rubbish. If you were to record me now, I would probably be in agony within minutes of playback, wondering why on Earth I thought it was necessary to utter many of the things I did.
So I undertook a project this week. Before I spoke, I was to think about what I was about to say. And more particularly, how is saying this serving God's kingdom on Earth?
We say things for many reasons. One obvious way of building God's kingdom through speech is speaking to God, in prayer and praise. Others are usually more indirect. It could be counselling a friend, encouraging someone, helping someone out, or just the words needed to plan an activity.
But we also say things that aren't kingdom building too. These are things that aren't loving. You know, the snide comment about someone we find unattractive and have to poke fun of; the whinging complaint because we feel we've been hard done by; the joke that tears down other people. Even the disruptive chatter when someone is trying to achieve something, and we hinder them.
This is what I plan to go to war on.
I have to say, that I haven't been entirely successful so far. I've still let out quite a few "catty" comments, joined in some highly criticising conversations at work and done more than my share of complaining. This is going to be a long term project, becuase it's not only a change in what comes out of my mouth, but also altering what the words are expressing - my thought and my attitudes that underly my words. And any change in us is only going to be through the power of the Spirit and through prayer.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Cause I'm a copykit...
Because I only have a few hours left to pack, until I need to sleep before heading off on one of the most awesome (imho) camps all year... I really wanted to post something though, so I've copied this quiz from my dear Nica at About a Girl. So, may I present, the Three Quiz (insert flourish here).
THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:- Kit, Kitty and Trini
THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:- Space of Flowers, Marauding Snowflake, Magenta Lee Hope
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:- My eyes - they can change colour!, my increasing curly (no longer frizzy) hair and my double jointed thumbs.
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:- Multitude of scars from variuos surgeries and accidents, small veins which collapse when having blood taken and very acne-prone skin.
THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:- Australian, Scottish and German.
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:- Heights, the concept of me driving a vehicle unsupervised and health care professionals who are in the 'business' for the money.
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:- God, writing in my journal and tea
THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:- Black trackies, red hoodie and ugg boots
THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE BANDS OR MUSICAL ARTISTS:- Rebecca St James, Leeland and MercyMe
THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE SONGS:- Iris, More Than It Seems and Comptine d'un Autre Ete.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:- Love (which must first come from God, and is reflected in the love for one another), shared values and being able to serve one another.
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE PREFERRED SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:- Expressive eyes (i.e. where you can see what that person is thinking or feeling by their eyes), arms suitable for giving good hugs and a smile that charms you into smiling back.... (No, of course I'm not picturing anyone in particular as I'm describing this....)
THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE HOBBIES:- Knitting/embroidery, writing and sleeping.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:- Hug Nica, sleep, do more knitting
THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING/YOU'VE CONSIDERED:- Pharmacist, foreign aid worker, chemical engineer
THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON HOLIDAY TO:- Europe as a whole, Central and Eastern Canada/USA and anywhere in Asia
THREE NAMES YOU LIKE:- Jonathan, Felicity and Simon
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:- Become a wife and mother (in that order :P), finish strong in faith and see my parents (re?)commit to Christ.
THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A BOY:- I don't usually consider putting on makeup before leaving the house, I think the hoodie is one of fashion's greatest achievements and my culinary expertise only extends to instant noodles and boiled eggs.
THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A GIRL: - I classify gymnastics as a sport, I like to sew and do craft-y things and I love wearing pink.
THREE NAMES YOU GO BY:- Kit, Kitty and Trini
THREE SCREEN NAMES YOU HAVE HAD:- Space of Flowers, Marauding Snowflake, Magenta Lee Hope
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:- My eyes - they can change colour!, my increasing curly (no longer frizzy) hair and my double jointed thumbs.
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU DON'T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:- Multitude of scars from variuos surgeries and accidents, small veins which collapse when having blood taken and very acne-prone skin.
THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:- Australian, Scottish and German.
THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:- Heights, the concept of me driving a vehicle unsupervised and health care professionals who are in the 'business' for the money.
THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:- God, writing in my journal and tea
THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:- Black trackies, red hoodie and ugg boots
THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE BANDS OR MUSICAL ARTISTS:- Rebecca St James, Leeland and MercyMe
THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE SONGS:- Iris, More Than It Seems and Comptine d'un Autre Ete.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP:- Love (which must first come from God, and is reflected in the love for one another), shared values and being able to serve one another.
THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE PREFERRED SEX THAT APPEAL TO YOU:- Expressive eyes (i.e. where you can see what that person is thinking or feeling by their eyes), arms suitable for giving good hugs and a smile that charms you into smiling back.... (No, of course I'm not picturing anyone in particular as I'm describing this....)
THREE OF YOUR FAVOURITE HOBBIES:- Knitting/embroidery, writing and sleeping.
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:- Hug Nica, sleep, do more knitting
THREE CAREERS YOU'RE CONSIDERING/YOU'VE CONSIDERED:- Pharmacist, foreign aid worker, chemical engineer
THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON HOLIDAY TO:- Europe as a whole, Central and Eastern Canada/USA and anywhere in Asia
THREE NAMES YOU LIKE:- Jonathan, Felicity and Simon
THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:- Become a wife and mother (in that order :P), finish strong in faith and see my parents (re?)commit to Christ.
THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A BOY:- I don't usually consider putting on makeup before leaving the house, I think the hoodie is one of fashion's greatest achievements and my culinary expertise only extends to instant noodles and boiled eggs.
THREE WAYS THAT YOU ARE STEREOTYPICALLY A GIRL: - I classify gymnastics as a sport, I like to sew and do craft-y things and I love wearing pink.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Where I am from...
This is the speech I gave at my 21st birthday, which was last week - you may have noticed I had to change my header quote from Elizabeth Bennet's "not yet one and twenty" because I now am! It is a sort of poem - I got the idea from Elizabeth at The Merry Rose, who published hers a few momths ago now. There is also a website which explains how to write your own here. There are some explanatory notes at the bottom.
I am from the warmth of a crotcheted blanket, from vegemite on Sao biscuits and from Cruskits smeared with honey, eaten with my grandmother, hearing stories during breakfast in bed.
I am from the fragrant lavender and gardenias along our front path, the heavenly scented wisteria that drooped overhead and the weeping cherry who sways gracefully in the wind and blossoms in the spring, outside my bedroom window. I am from the creek where tadpoles were captured and from the mint and tomato plants that grew intertwined in my grandfather’s garden, sweetening the sea air.
I am from Scotch pride and from stories reported differently with every telling, some tales older than the hills and maybe a little overgrown with fiction. I am from the farm at Harry’s Creek, the post office in Yackandandah and those lost buildings of Old Tallangatta. From the little house where Grace lived and read her Bible every night and the street where bones were broken riding into a parked truck in the dark.
I am from Elizabeth’s prejudice and Mr Darcy’s pride, from Anne at Green Gables and her diamond bursts and marble halls, from Rebecca and her fairy story of Sunnybrook Farm. I am from worlds inhabited by dragons and dryads, where fey moons rise over emerald forests and epic quests for magic lions and magic rings unfold through the unlikeliest of heroes.
I am from long conversations on instant messenger programs and hours spent viewing the world through a computer screen. I am from a life with many cables attached, that yearns for the simplicity of the hand-written and the handmade.
I am from the sherry trifle for every special occasion, always with that extra dash of sherry for good measure, and from rich warm casseroles on the coldest of nights, straight out of the oven and soaking into toast.
I am from my father’s answers for a child never satisfied with not knowing why or how or when or what; from my mother’s arms around me, sacrificing her sleep when I could not, holding my hand through each time of stress or sickness or pain. I am from the games I played with my sister, the songs that we would sing, jumping of beds in our pyjamas and those old clothes we would dress up in when we were princesses or witches, nurses or brides.
I am from a second birth, a new creation of God, changed by grace and love, given yet wholly undeserved; from the Potter’s hand, which took an uncertain and unwilling heart - claimed it, reworked it and gave it purpose.
I am from a past of plenty – many smiles and tears, memories and photographs and stories. And I am from a future that will be far richer, in joy and in suffering, in wonder and in sadness and in hope, and always in love, as I discover who He made me be...
Notes:
Stanza 1: My maternal grandmother passed away when I was in Year 8. I miss her greatly, though I have strong and treasured memories of sitting up in bed with her each morning. My aunt would always bring Grandma her morning tea and the decribed biscuits (with extra ones for the little intruders) and Grandma would tell us stories of when she or her daughters were little. All the time there would be much fussing as to whether my sister and I were bundled up warm enough.
Stanza 3: The places listed as of historical significance to my mother's family. Grace was my dad's grandmother, and was something of a family matriarch. She was also the last 'born-again' Christian in my family before me. It seems doubly ironic to me that as well as inheriting her faith, I also inherited her name. (It's one of my middle names, for any one confused.) My dad broke his collarbone riding his bike down his street in the dark.
Stanza 4: Yes, in many ways, I am a 21st century girl - I love MSN, Blogger and my iPod! But I also love the satisfaction of knitting my own cushion covers, embroidering a brithday present for a friend and am looking forward to the challenge of learning to crochet this winter!
Stanza 8: A few people have questioned my use of suffering and sadness in my list of things I'm 'looking forward' to in the future. I'm not saying that I'm excited for the sad times or pain. I just know that God has a life planned for me that is going to challenge me as much as it is going to be joyful and beautiful.
I am from the warmth of a crotcheted blanket, from vegemite on Sao biscuits and from Cruskits smeared with honey, eaten with my grandmother, hearing stories during breakfast in bed.
I am from the fragrant lavender and gardenias along our front path, the heavenly scented wisteria that drooped overhead and the weeping cherry who sways gracefully in the wind and blossoms in the spring, outside my bedroom window. I am from the creek where tadpoles were captured and from the mint and tomato plants that grew intertwined in my grandfather’s garden, sweetening the sea air.
I am from Scotch pride and from stories reported differently with every telling, some tales older than the hills and maybe a little overgrown with fiction. I am from the farm at Harry’s Creek, the post office in Yackandandah and those lost buildings of Old Tallangatta. From the little house where Grace lived and read her Bible every night and the street where bones were broken riding into a parked truck in the dark.
I am from Elizabeth’s prejudice and Mr Darcy’s pride, from Anne at Green Gables and her diamond bursts and marble halls, from Rebecca and her fairy story of Sunnybrook Farm. I am from worlds inhabited by dragons and dryads, where fey moons rise over emerald forests and epic quests for magic lions and magic rings unfold through the unlikeliest of heroes.
I am from long conversations on instant messenger programs and hours spent viewing the world through a computer screen. I am from a life with many cables attached, that yearns for the simplicity of the hand-written and the handmade.
I am from the sherry trifle for every special occasion, always with that extra dash of sherry for good measure, and from rich warm casseroles on the coldest of nights, straight out of the oven and soaking into toast.
I am from my father’s answers for a child never satisfied with not knowing why or how or when or what; from my mother’s arms around me, sacrificing her sleep when I could not, holding my hand through each time of stress or sickness or pain. I am from the games I played with my sister, the songs that we would sing, jumping of beds in our pyjamas and those old clothes we would dress up in when we were princesses or witches, nurses or brides.
I am from a second birth, a new creation of God, changed by grace and love, given yet wholly undeserved; from the Potter’s hand, which took an uncertain and unwilling heart - claimed it, reworked it and gave it purpose.
I am from a past of plenty – many smiles and tears, memories and photographs and stories. And I am from a future that will be far richer, in joy and in suffering, in wonder and in sadness and in hope, and always in love, as I discover who He made me be...
Notes:
Stanza 1: My maternal grandmother passed away when I was in Year 8. I miss her greatly, though I have strong and treasured memories of sitting up in bed with her each morning. My aunt would always bring Grandma her morning tea and the decribed biscuits (with extra ones for the little intruders) and Grandma would tell us stories of when she or her daughters were little. All the time there would be much fussing as to whether my sister and I were bundled up warm enough.
Stanza 3: The places listed as of historical significance to my mother's family. Grace was my dad's grandmother, and was something of a family matriarch. She was also the last 'born-again' Christian in my family before me. It seems doubly ironic to me that as well as inheriting her faith, I also inherited her name. (It's one of my middle names, for any one confused.) My dad broke his collarbone riding his bike down his street in the dark.
Stanza 4: Yes, in many ways, I am a 21st century girl - I love MSN, Blogger and my iPod! But I also love the satisfaction of knitting my own cushion covers, embroidering a brithday present for a friend and am looking forward to the challenge of learning to crochet this winter!
Stanza 8: A few people have questioned my use of suffering and sadness in my list of things I'm 'looking forward' to in the future. I'm not saying that I'm excited for the sad times or pain. I just know that God has a life planned for me that is going to challenge me as much as it is going to be joyful and beautiful.
Monday, June 9, 2008
How does she know?
From Disney's recent film "Enchanted", performed by Amy Adams...
Giselle: How does she know you love her?
How does she know she's yours?
Man: How does she know that you love her?
Giselle:How do you show her you love her?
Both: How does she know that you really, really, truly love her?
Giselle:It's not enough to take the one you love for granted
You must remind her, or she'll be inclined to say... "How do I know he loves me?"
"How do I know he's mine?"
Well does he leave a little note to tell you you are on his mind?
Send you yellow flowers when the sky is grey?
Heyy! He'll find a new way to show you, a little bit everyday
That's how you know, that's how you know!
He's your love...
Man: You've got to show her you need her
Don't treat her like a mind reader
Each day do something to need her
To believe you love her
Giselle:Everybody wants to live happily ever after
Everybody wants to know their true love is true...
Well does he take you out dancin' just so he can hold you close?
Dedicate a song with words in
Just for you? Ohhh!
All:He'll find his own way to tell you
With the little things he'll do
That's how you know
That's how you know!
Because he'll wear your favorite color
Just so he can match your eyes
Rent a private picnic
By the fires glow-oohh!
All:His heart will be yours forever
Something everyday will show
That's how you know
He's your love...
[I've edited it a bit, to remove all the pointless repeated lines, but I've kept any 'new' ideas]
I put this song in, because it in some ways reflects my struggles as a modern day young woman, and in others is the cause of those same struggles.
Before I became a Christian, I did think a guy's opinion was the be all and end all of my existence. I was head over heels for a guy, who probably had only one thing on his mind, and it wasn't discussing literature and music over coffee. It sounds harsh, but umm... Let's just say he moved on very quickly when I ran away scared of jumping in too fast. Because like most girls at the moment, I was torn between wanting the fairytale romance as described above to some degree and wanting everything "now", becuase that would make me whole.
Through a whole series of wonderful events, I finally got to know Jesus as my Lord and Saviour, and I forgot about most guys for a while (save one :P) - particularly because my youth group tends to seperate girls and guys in their younger years. But recently, it's been popping into my head more and more how much I would like to be in love and get married. Not because I need a guy to make whole - there's only one who can do that, and I've already fallen for Him - but because I would love to be a wife and mother. Yes, I want to have a career too (but pharmacy is a great profssion for working part time as a mother :P )
Now comes the crux of the issue. I had a crush on a guy last year, and of course it all came to nothing, once I was away from him for the summer. It was merely an attraction based on shared interests and a desire on my part to be "crossed in love" as Mr Bennet puts it in Pride and Prejudice. But this time it's a bit more serious. The guy I like is a very good friend to me, and I'm so confused as to whether I'm liked in return, or if I'm just a friend to him. Hence the song. How does one know if they are loved?
Now the song lists a whole stack of signs, most of which are very silly but the problem is that I find I start to look out for such ridiculous things. We take normal gentlemanly behaviour and think we're being singled out, or perceive a normal hug or kind word meant for affection or comfort to have romantic undercurrents attached to it. We begin to look for hidden meanings in things that didn't have any meaning in the first place.
But this friendship is too special for me to betray like that. So I'm going to be praying about this, but I'd love any thoughts or advice anyone out there has.
Giselle: How does she know you love her?
How does she know she's yours?
Man: How does she know that you love her?
Giselle:How do you show her you love her?
Both: How does she know that you really, really, truly love her?
Giselle:It's not enough to take the one you love for granted
You must remind her, or she'll be inclined to say... "How do I know he loves me?"
"How do I know he's mine?"
Well does he leave a little note to tell you you are on his mind?
Send you yellow flowers when the sky is grey?
Heyy! He'll find a new way to show you, a little bit everyday
That's how you know, that's how you know!
He's your love...
Man: You've got to show her you need her
Don't treat her like a mind reader
Each day do something to need her
To believe you love her
Giselle:Everybody wants to live happily ever after
Everybody wants to know their true love is true...
Well does he take you out dancin' just so he can hold you close?
Dedicate a song with words in
Just for you? Ohhh!
All:He'll find his own way to tell you
With the little things he'll do
That's how you know
That's how you know!
Because he'll wear your favorite color
Just so he can match your eyes
Rent a private picnic
By the fires glow-oohh!
All:His heart will be yours forever
Something everyday will show
That's how you know
He's your love...
[I've edited it a bit, to remove all the pointless repeated lines, but I've kept any 'new' ideas]
I put this song in, because it in some ways reflects my struggles as a modern day young woman, and in others is the cause of those same struggles.
Before I became a Christian, I did think a guy's opinion was the be all and end all of my existence. I was head over heels for a guy, who probably had only one thing on his mind, and it wasn't discussing literature and music over coffee. It sounds harsh, but umm... Let's just say he moved on very quickly when I ran away scared of jumping in too fast. Because like most girls at the moment, I was torn between wanting the fairytale romance as described above to some degree and wanting everything "now", becuase that would make me whole.
Through a whole series of wonderful events, I finally got to know Jesus as my Lord and Saviour, and I forgot about most guys for a while (save one :P) - particularly because my youth group tends to seperate girls and guys in their younger years. But recently, it's been popping into my head more and more how much I would like to be in love and get married. Not because I need a guy to make whole - there's only one who can do that, and I've already fallen for Him - but because I would love to be a wife and mother. Yes, I want to have a career too (but pharmacy is a great profssion for working part time as a mother :P )
Now comes the crux of the issue. I had a crush on a guy last year, and of course it all came to nothing, once I was away from him for the summer. It was merely an attraction based on shared interests and a desire on my part to be "crossed in love" as Mr Bennet puts it in Pride and Prejudice. But this time it's a bit more serious. The guy I like is a very good friend to me, and I'm so confused as to whether I'm liked in return, or if I'm just a friend to him. Hence the song. How does one know if they are loved?
Now the song lists a whole stack of signs, most of which are very silly but the problem is that I find I start to look out for such ridiculous things. We take normal gentlemanly behaviour and think we're being singled out, or perceive a normal hug or kind word meant for affection or comfort to have romantic undercurrents attached to it. We begin to look for hidden meanings in things that didn't have any meaning in the first place.
But this friendship is too special for me to betray like that. So I'm going to be praying about this, but I'd love any thoughts or advice anyone out there has.
Monday, June 2, 2008
Whatever you do?
I was really challenged last night on what I do each day and the way I use my time.
"And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him." (Colossians 3:17)
I spend my week doing many things, some of which are dedicated to the glory of God, but much of which is not. I am not saying I go out and intentionally sin in this time, or at least I try not to. Rather, I tend to think of the time as being neutral, and as being my own.
But we are told "You are not your own; you were bought at a price" (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). And what a price it was. But what this means, is that my time is not my own, but rather, all God's, and everytime I go off to do my own thing, I'm stealing that time from Him. And I think we can all agree that theft is a crime, or a sin if you like.
God cares about everything we do, like the watchful parent of a young child. And we are commanded in Col. 3:17, that whatever we do is to be done in the name of Jesus. I'm not sure I want to place the beautiful name of Jesus up against all the deeds I do in my day. It doesn't give thanks to Jesus when I stand around doing nothing at work when I could be serving my patients and co-workers, or when I put off uni group assignments because I "have more important things to do" that I usually don't do anyway. Or when I lie in bed whining about the cold and refusing to get up. It's an enormous and scary challenge, but I want to be saying to myself, with each thing that I do, "How is this serving God and giving Him thanks and glory?"
Any thoughts, people?
"And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him." (Colossians 3:17)
I spend my week doing many things, some of which are dedicated to the glory of God, but much of which is not. I am not saying I go out and intentionally sin in this time, or at least I try not to. Rather, I tend to think of the time as being neutral, and as being my own.
But we are told "You are not your own; you were bought at a price" (1 Corinthians 6:19-20). And what a price it was. But what this means, is that my time is not my own, but rather, all God's, and everytime I go off to do my own thing, I'm stealing that time from Him. And I think we can all agree that theft is a crime, or a sin if you like.
God cares about everything we do, like the watchful parent of a young child. And we are commanded in Col. 3:17, that whatever we do is to be done in the name of Jesus. I'm not sure I want to place the beautiful name of Jesus up against all the deeds I do in my day. It doesn't give thanks to Jesus when I stand around doing nothing at work when I could be serving my patients and co-workers, or when I put off uni group assignments because I "have more important things to do" that I usually don't do anyway. Or when I lie in bed whining about the cold and refusing to get up. It's an enormous and scary challenge, but I want to be saying to myself, with each thing that I do, "How is this serving God and giving Him thanks and glory?"
Any thoughts, people?
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