Doppelgänger

So in my crippled state, my friend and I have found a new obsession with celebrity doppelgängers. This requires much less physical effort than long boarding or tennis but it is just as addictive. I found out that I go to school with a Jennifer Lawrence, Selina Gomez, a Josh Harnett and Arnold from The Magic School Bus. When you tell people they look like someone famous it's nothing shy of a compliment that's usually followed by rosy cheeks and a suppressed smile that tries to decline any physical resemblance to such a person. 

Growing up I was always told I look just like my older brother, which is not what a little sister wants to hear-especially a young lady-ever. But in my later age I started taking it as a compliment. My brother is one of my biggest heroes and someone closest to me who I spend a lot of time with. Because of this, we act alike, sound alike, have similar-polite-etiquette and do share a lot of devilish good looks. 

My sister-in-law swears I look like Bristol Palin, my aunt says Jennifer Love Hewitt, but who I most want to be mistaken as is Jesus. I mean, right? In my action and my speech I want people to confuse me for Jesus. How I love, show respect and gentleness, I want to look like Jesus. How I serve I want to be mistaken as Jesus, how I control myself and how I show patiences. If I'm spending enough time with God, my action, my speech, my etiquette, all of that should resemble Christ Jesus. Now, in the cheesy closing of this entry I give you these passages to chew on; I mean, you are what you eat. . .

"Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others. Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,  but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself  and became obedient to death–  even death on a cross!  Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name,  that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth,  and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."(Philippians 2:4-11 NIV84)

We know that  our old self was crucified with him in order that the body of sin might be brought to nothing, so that we would no longer be enslaved to sin. (Romans 6:6 ESV)

Do not be conformed to this world,  but be transformed by  the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may  discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. (Romans 12:2 ESV)

If it seems we are crazy, it is to bring glory to God. And if we are in our right minds, it is for your benefit.  Either way, Christ’s love controls us.  Since we believe that Christ died for all, we also believe that we have all died to our old life.    He died for everyone so that those who receive his new life will no longer live for themselves. Instead, they will live for Christ, who died and was raised for them. So we have stopped evaluating others from a human point of view. At one time we thought of Christ merely from a human point of view. How differently we know him now!  This means that anyone who belongs to Christ has become a new person. The old life is gone; a new life has begun! (2 Corinthians 5:13-17 NLT)

Speed Wobbles

This past Monday my friend and I took advantage of the beautiful weather and played some tennis in between classes. We had an hour to play because of our schedules, but realized we both only had one class on Tuesdays. Tuesday was just as beautiful as Monday, if not better. We brought our tennis rackets, our hackey sacks and our long boards and mapped out our day of fun, scheduling it perfectly to fit in all of our favorite hobbies equally. First was tennis and then long boarding followed by some hackey sack.
It should be stated that each of us get minorly obsessed with different activities and train ourselves to be the best until the next outdoor obsession comes along. Long boarding has been in the training stage for awhile now. On a trail in a park we were going down a hill when I hit speed wobbles and my long board started shaking back and forth because of how fast I was going. I knew I had to bail because of the sharp turn at the end of the hill but I didn't know how to go for it. I ended up just jumping straight off and planned I would just run it off but I was going to fast to keep up with the speed and ended up sliding in to the pavement like a baseball player would slide into home. I stood up to find my skin on the ground and blood running down my leg, ankles, palms and elbow. I walked it off and sent myself home to study for the bio test that was Wednesday.
After my bio test I had one more class, which I planned on skipping but decided not to. I should've skipped that class because I ended up passing out in the middle of it because I was in so much pain from my leg. My teacher made me go to the doctor on campus and there she told me I had bad road rash on my left leg and had pulled a ligament in my right hip. She prescribed me pain medication that would play a crucial role in my healing process.
Whenever I take my pain medication it doesn't take much after that to get me talking. I will talk about anything and even though I knew I was saying it all I couldn't really control how the words actually came out. I turned out to be more blunt than I usually was and more brave to say and do what I wanted because I was crippled and could just blame it on my limp leg or the medication.
But being stuck in a bed all week when you're not on those pain pills really gets you thinking, like shower thinking. "What will my husband look like?" "Will I age well?" "Do people in China Gangnam Style?" "Is this thing gonna scar?" "Why can't this just play out like I want it to? If not this, what does God want from me?"
There is a guy I see on my way to the class I fainted in that whom I only know by first name from years ago. He was in my small group at a TPX camp one year and he said something small but profound that has stuck with me ever since. His comment shaped my life and I told myself then, and multiple more times when I was in high school that if I ever got the opportunity, I would thank him for his encouragment. I haven't yet.
If God doesn't want me to date the boy in my English class or long board around campus, then what does He want from me? He wants me to tell the guy I see every Monday, Wednesday and Friday thank you for showing me one of my spiritual gifts. He wants me to allow the Holy Spirit be responsible for my word vomit rather than my pain pills (which aren't addictive so you guys don't have to worry about me, by the way). He wants me to stop pursuing the things He's put in my life and start pursuing Him. To allow Him to take the reigns and show me the next thing He has prepared for me.

Your own ears will hear him. Right behind you a voice will say, "This is the way you should go," whether it is to the right or to the left. (Isaiah 30:21 NLT)

But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who have faith and preserve their souls. (Hebrews 10:39)

Pinterest, Facebook, and Affirmative Action

I’m sitting in the Student Union doing research for a persuasive speech about banning Affirmative Action in college admissions that’s due next week, not because I’m on top of my work, but because it’s the only work I have. With finals less than two weeks away I can feel the stress building from the work I’ll have this time next week. So, for now I kill time researching Pinterest, my Facebook friends and Affirmative Action.

As I finally buckle down on this speech I find myself staring at a blank word document and a sudden belief in reverse discrimination. The smell of Panda Express and the lack of feeling in my butt tells me I should quit working on this speech and come back to it tomorrow—just like yesterday and the day before. While I’m distracted by the taste of imaginary orange chicken in my mouth, I meet eyes with a guy listening intently to his peer. As the guy was Asian, I sort of assumed it was some type of language helping situation. That was until I realize what they’re discussing. In the hands on his peer is a little blue booklet, a booklet I’ve seen before.

When CRU made the videos of our stories for the campus to watch, they gave each of us three soul-saving pamphlets, intended for those who have questions about Jesus. I saw this a as a joke at the time. I was being brave enough wearing the same shirt for a week and posting my testimony about how God found me that I had no plans on sharing a pocket-sized picture book with some stranger. It was then when I realize the peer is a boy I’ve seen at CRU, a boy whose video I watched. He sits patiently explaining the pictures and story line and openly shares his story with the young man when he has questions arise.

For the first time all week I felt calm. I no longer was consumed with what stress will be on my shoulders next week or what I need to say to persuade my audience, but what beautiful work God had planned for that boy; what beautiful work he had planned for me. So until He tells me what that is, I guess I should get back to this speech.

Jesus didn't die for you

For as long as I can rememer I've been told about the love Jesus has for me. It's been ingrained in my head that Jesus died for my sins, that He knows how many hairs are on my head, how many freckles on my face, and what time I'll wake up tomorrow morning as well as every morning of my remaining waking days--all of which I don't know the answers to. For as long as I can remember I've been told that Jesus did all these things for me.
Yes, Jesus died for MY sins, He loves ME but I'm sure He love you also; you're sins are forgiven because of His sacrificial death and even though Jesus did these things for our sake, He first and foremost did them because it was the will of God; because God asked Him to take on the sins of the world, He did it in obedience of the Lord. Jesus was a human, just like me and you, who did what was asked of Him.
I am saved by the grace of God. I am loved by the creator of the sun and lightbulb, the designer of oceans and puddles, the maker of rocks and iPads. He loves ME!
All too often I only focus on what God has to offer me, but I am not a follower of Christ solely because of what He continues to do for me. My faith is not based around the fact that God, the one who breathes life into the trees, can do immeasurably more than we can ever ask or imagine. Why is it so easy for me to remember during tests or hardships that God is there for me, but when I'm sitting outside wrapped in the warmth of the sun I forget that He is the one who created that?
My relationship with God can be so much like going out to eat. I do it when there's no food at home, only when I have to. All I have to do is ask for the food and the server will make sure it's prepared for me, fill my drink when it's low and brings me the food, warm when it's ready. I can never leave a restaurant without tipping the server, but how many times does God provide for me and I give Him less than 20 percent gratuity?
I've been to the point in my faith for a while that I no longer have to ask WWJD because I know what He expects of me. Now, I've gotten to the point that I don't even care what Jesus would do because I'm too distracted by all the wonderful things God's allowing me do that will forever impact His Kingdom. Just as Jesus was obedient to God, we should be also. I'm sure none of you are being asked to be publically humiliated, beaten, and killed with the pressure of the world's salvation on your back, but as His followers, God's asking something of each and every one of us. I no longer think I have to drown myself in His grace, constantly trying to clean myself up for my Savior, but I am forever trying to repay Him. Seven times seventy times what He's given to me. So I submit myself, then to God; I reach out, I have those awkward, Christ-centered conversations, I allow myself to talk freely about what He's doing in my life. And in return, I'm handed broken stories, hurt hearts and eager ears that want to know about attention deficit joy. Yes, Jesus died for me, He loves ME! So, how can I just sit here and not let everyone know about this freedom that is only found in Christ?
"And it is my prayer that your love may abound more and more, with knowledge and all discernment, so that you may approve what is excellent, and so be pure and blameless for the day of Christ, filled awith the fruit of rightousness that comes through Jesus Christ, to the glory and praise of God."

Dependent

     As a child, I remember taking neighborhood walks with my dad. Hand-in-hand we roamed the streets where taught me to look left, right, and left one more time when crossing the street and always walked on the right side of me when on the sidewalk. That way if a car was veering over on the shoulder, they’d get him first. When leaving the park my dad would remind me of different things I need to be aware of when being outside, shortcuts I could take, safer paths home and what to do if ever I were in trouble. I soon turned into a Matilda; wandering the streets alone, knowing my way around the neighborhood and I felt safe because I was prepared. My dad equipped me to know the roads for my own.

     Now that I’m in college it’s easy to see how independent my parents have raised me. From making our own dinner to finding our own lost stuff my mother rarely coddled us. Even in high school there was little I needed my parents for; I knew the way around town and most of the surrounding cities and hardly ever left notes, texts or voicemails when I left, not that I was irresponsible, but because my parents trusted me and knew I was safe. They had raised me to be self-sufficient. It’s been two months since college has started and I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve called my parents to help me solve my problems down at school. Whether I am asking about financial funding or the belts on my car I’ve taken care of it myself.

     My independence has made my transition into college more than easy, physically and emotionally. Spiritually I feel myself growing weak. In our spiritual walks never is there a time that we should ever feel absolute dependence. If we are not consulting God with our moves how will we know they are the right ones? It’s easy for me to speak my mind and claim it what Jesus would do but hardly ever do I have that backed up by His word. It is our job as followers, not to run the opposite way into the world’s definition of freedom, but to lose yourself in his arms in the actual liberation of his grace and love for us. So as I grow more independent in the “real world” here on Madison in my Freddy dorm room, I pray to become more dependent on Christ and continue to hold his hand as we further my walk each and every day.

Puzzle pieces

     Everyday I'm reminded of different tragedies being faced here at school. Whether I'm being reminded of them by school faculty or seeing a clever poster around campus I am constantly reminded that everyone is experiencing, going through, something.
     Last night I played Never Have I Ever with some girls from my floor. The concept of the game is for everyone to start out with 10 fingers up and then each person goes around the room announcing something that they have never done and if you have done it you put a finger down. Whoever has any fingers left at the end wins. Of course people got just a little racy and I learned some things that I could have gone my whole life without knowing but luckily the confessions weren't anything too gut wrenching. One girl I met on my floor Grace has been a person I've been hanging out with lately. I didn't learn until last night that never has she ever owned a bible, she's agnostic. Most of the people put a finger down and complained about how that was cheating since they went to private schools or were raised catholic but I just silently put down a finger and sort of reflected on the signs I've seen Grace display that said she wasn't a Christian. Only her sailor's mouth came to mind, yet I can name lots of Christians who can't seem to, or choose not to, control their language. I became anxious to learn about how she got to this point and why. If you believe in nothing, that's still a belief and a hopeless one at that. As I was the only one not to complain about owning a bible I felt the eyes on me of people wondering why I wasn't upset about it. I ignored the pressure of the staring and carried on.
     Now, tonight at Cru we talked about how everything happens for a reason, how where we are right now is where God needs us if we're believers and if we're not He's placed nonbelievers in a place to find Him. God put Grace in the room across the hall for me to share His love with her, in any way.
     I've spent the majority of my time here at college waiting on some huge revelation from God to show me in some burning bush way what Holy Land He wants me to takea mass of His people or what illness I need to cure miraculously and I've forgot the little details. I've forgotten about the Grace's across the hall. I've gotten wrapped up in the thought of my riches in Heaven I was comparing myself to others rather than knowing God has me where He wants me and will move me when needed.
     I had a a friend freshman year who went to South that I really got to know at the Freshman Center who was a believer, but not quite a follower. We all knew each other went to church but never talked about it. The summer before sophomore year he was going through my iPod and saw Mighty To Save. It was a song that really shaped his life earlier that summer when God spoke to him. I remember being on Dakota Downey's trampoline at the dusk of a summer week night with Connor having his headphones in singing along to, "Shine your light and let the whole world see, we're singing for the glory of the risen King, my Jesus," with the biggest, most sincere smile of pure joy I had ever seen on Connor's face. Some people there laughed at him because they felt awkward about Connor so openly praising God but I remember how relieved I was knowing that God had finally spoken to him and almost guilty for not being the one who got him there. Luckily, God spoke to Connor, thankfully God got in his heart that summer and such a close friend of mine's salvation, or lack their of, didn't lie on my shoulders. But knowing that Grace doesn't know God kills me. Maybe it worked out with Connor, thankfully my out of tuneness with the Holy Spirit didn't ruin Connor's chances of eternal life, but now I know that Grace doesn't have God. Luckily, thankfully, for Connor God was able to find him without my help and I was still able to see the growth in him, but I don't want to be leaving Springfield in May finding out Grace is still living a blind-folded life lost in the world when I had all the equipment to lead her to Christ. Even on Grace's best day it doesn't even compare to my worst day with God. It sucks for all of those people who think they're enjoying life but they don't even know! Who will tell them if not for me? Maybe God wants me to lead a mass of his people to some Holy Land, maybe I am supposed to miraculously cure an illness. Or maybe Grace is, and maybe my part in that big picture story is being the one who leads her into salvation.

This past weekend I went home to ease the pain of my leaving for my parents and to see all of my friends since I've left for college. Coincidently, my father was celebrating his 19 years of sobriety. Obviously, he was sober for three months before I was born, but I've been alive to see the effects, positive effects.
Months before I was born, my parents were saved and started to attend a small church downtown. Soon after the extradordinary day of my birth, my dad lost his job. He began to grow weary and doubted if God was on his side or not, his pastor told him, practically dared him, to try to live his life without God and see how crappy things would get.
My parents would tell us the struggles they faced during my first few years of life, but they always reassured me of the plan God was sculpting through their struggles. I've always known my dad to be really good at one thing, if not anything else my dad is a Provider. So many times people have walked into our house looking for guidence only my dad could provide; whether it have been guidence with car trouble, directions, or life, my dad always had the answer, and if he didn't, he would provide a name that did. I've only known my dad as the man he is today, I've only known him since his growth in Christ; and because of that I've seen my dad sit at the kitchen talble taking phone call after phone call from customers because he's been blessed to own his own company, I've seen my dad talk on the porch for hours with guys fresh out of prison because he's been able to use his ugly past as a connection, I've seen my dad run to Las Vegas to pick up his sister-in-law and his nephew from a home they shouldn't have belonged to and offered up our own home when they had no place to stay because God has made him a provider. I remember my dad celebrating his 10 years of sobriety, his 15 years, but what I can't recall is his 6 months.
I think we often forget that whoever wants to become great amoung you must first become a servant, we forget that Rome wasn't built in a day. Before my father could celebrate his 19th year of sobriety he had to celebrate his first day, that even though it was a struggle to give up that lifestyle, I'm sure if you asked him today he'd tell you it was worth it.
My father's entire walk is longer than my lifespan, let alone my rebirth. Being in my first semester of college I'm waiting to start my big, huge story, not just be apart of one. But I must remember the liberation of that first day, not be told of what greatness feels like but experience that for myself. As I grow in the relationships I have started now I know I can reach what God has planned for me in time, as long as I remember this walk is a step-by-step journey, not a mile-by-mile.