Let’s look at Biblical Heroes.

The world loves hero movies! I love them too. The world is awry and the strength, wit and charm of one man saves it all. Just in the last moment usually! Thank goodness these men have it together when it counts! And ladies come on… rich, powerful… good looking. No wonder super hero movies are no longer for boys alone. I can get most girls to swoon over Captain America or Batman. As they grew more broody by the minute the good and evil line blurs a bit further. How can we really believe at good and evil at all in these movies? The good people do bad and the bad people sometimes do good.

Or another image of a hero is cast. This image of the good guy is perfect. Perfect hair, perfect budget, perfect abs. By these super standards no one can be a hero. Superheros are entertaining but real heroes are not so super. They are in fact ordinary, sometimes even less than ordinary.

In real life (and in the Bible) the hero is the underdog. He is unexpected because he is small, weak, young or cannot speak well. He is rough around the edges and makes a lot of mistakes. They often are unsure of themselves and their quest. You will not see them lifting four times their weight (except Samson) or running at super speed (fine we get that once too, but he needed a nap after.) In fact for a good guy they just do not seem very good.

Heroes in the Bible once were murders, prostitutes or doubters. They were the worst of the worst at times. Other times they were quiet God fearing men and woman who answered a call they were not qualified for. Sin is black and white and without Christ we are all black as night. However we as humans have a sort of inward struggle. We are made in God’s perfect image. We are made to do good and live in perfect peace. However we fell in Eden and what was made to be good (us)  to be something that is naturally bad. So we are all at once made in the image of God and fallen into evil (death, sin, etc.). Some super hero movies show this with a dark hero or a hero with a dark background. In films there are no black or white hats. This is because we all know good and evil are not that simple when the white hats are capable of screwing up and the black hats are still capable of doing good (let’s not get into the only God is good thing right now.)

So lets look at these heroes.

1. Jesus (He has to be number one). 
Jesus was not rich, handsome or in a powerful position. He had no hot girlfriend or shiny car. Yet somehow he has saved more people than Ironman. He spoke well, rose from the dead and did miracles. That was about it (that is a ton by the way, it just was not in a flahsy Hollywood way). He never flew or reversed time but he did raise the dead and save the world from sin. This white hat is very white though. Unlike every other Bible hero we will look at there will be no  struggle with sin in Christ. As the son of God Jesus laying his life down puts him in the number one spot. He led by example and by serving the sick and poor. Following in His footsteps makes anyone a hero.

2. Paul/Saul (my favorite apostle)

This unattractive man from the tribe of Benjamin wrote a large chunk of the New Testament (he likely had bad eye sight as well, no laser vision here). He was beaten and chased from many of the places he visited as a missionary and before he was Paul he approved of the killings of Christians and we can gather that he was hard to live with. What Paul did have was a smart mind. He put together beautiful arguments in Greek that you can find today and he spread Christianity to the Gentiles.

I know there are a lot of other big characters that we could insert here like Abraham, Peter and Moses. I was inspired more by minor characters for this post so we will look at them. I really want to look at female heroes for a bit and how they were no damsels.

3. Rahab

This woman is one of my favorite heroes in the Bible. This prostitute makes the hall of fame in Israel somehow. She danced with the devil in the pale moon light and won. Meaning she risked her life and God honored her. She recognized YHWH as the one true God and took a chance and lied to the king for some spies who wanted to take her city.With the king looking the wrong way she begged for her life and her families life to be spared. She makes the hall of fame in Hebrews and Jesus is listed as an ancestor.

I mean look at this:

Hometown:

Jericho.

Referenced in the Bible:

Joshua 2:1-21; 6:17, 22, 23, 25; Matthew 1:5; Hebrews 11:31; James 2:25.

Occupation:

Prostitute and innkeeper.

Family Tree:

Son: Boaz
Great grandson: King David
Ancestor of: Jesus Christ

Is that the resume of a hero or what?

I could go on but I have made my point with Rehab. Biblical heroes were not perfect (except Jesus, He is perfectly good, if you looked up good in the dictionary his picture would be there.) David was small and he beat Goliath, Moses stuttered, Abraham was old.

So though only God is good and the rest is evil this black and white view of the Bible and the good guys and the bad guys is not sufficient in understanding how the world works. More often than not good and evil just look closer to some sort of balance at the end. The truth is for now evil reigns and that it is also already defeated. That means we are in an “Already and not yet” situation. Evil has been beaten in the future already and for now it is the prince of this world.

We are already as white as snow.. and still black as sin. This is how time and time again we see Biblical heroes do what is wrong (ex. coveting a man’s wife, murder etc etc.) This is why Joseph and David are not as polished and perfect as Superman.

Since the bar for being a hero in the Bible is not perfection but rather submitting weakness to God being a hero is achievable. So boys, no worries. You do not have to have buldging muscles and money to be a hero. You can be meek and what the world would call weak and still do great things. Ladies, you do not have to use sexuality to come out on top or sit and wait to be saved. A pure heart is what makes heroes not a green screen.

A bad day is no match for you.

I have a chant today it goes like this:  “It’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over.”

You overslept. 

“It’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over.”

You feel like a liar worshiping and just silently pray for God not to leave you. 

“It’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over.”

You still can’t find you Apologetic’s binder and it has your homework. 

“It’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over.”

Everyone says they will give you notes you need for the quiz and then vanish… 

“It’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over.”

You got a stain on your shirt. 

“It’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over.”

It’s cold and gross and you can’t see.

“It’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over.”

Merlin was canceled ( I know, I know, it hurts). 

“It’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over.”

Your class is not in the library, you have no idea where it is. 

“It’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over.”

You found class late and have no idea what the teachers or anyone is saying.
Everybody together now….

“It’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over.”

You have a roaring headache from sobbing in your free time.

“It’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over.”

You don’t know Chinese or what computer can teach you. 

“It’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over, it’s not worth cutting your wrist over.”

You just want to scream and be held and cry and homework is piling up and you start thinking what is so fancy about A’s anyways? So what if you get a few F’s and then start to hate yourself and…

PAUSE. You hit pause. Perspective… you chant one more time. “It’s not worth it, it’s not worth it..”

“Be still. Be still and know..” you flinch, you do not want to hear that soft inner voice right now.

You sarcastically finish it for the voice “that I am God.” Of course you knew that.

“And you can trust me, you can have my strength and I will not abandon you.”

Then an email comes in with the notes for the quiz and the tightness in your chest lessons and the twitching vein in your eye takes a chill pill for the first time since someone said “Algebra 2” earlier that night. You remember that somehow things always work out and that is not a coincidence. You rest your throbbing head and let a few more tears fall.

A bad day is not the boss of you, a flawed sense of control will not destroy you. You may not be strong or clever and this may be too much but you work hard and you trust. You rest on the fact that there is a reason that you are still breathing and you be still long enough to calm down. You feel the warm assurance of God’s peace rest on you and you fix what gets you through the day in something more than a chant. If all else fails (even you in your class) this thing will not. For me it is Christ (and I recommend that one) but if not have something to rest in. Something to drive you that outweighs the world.

Moral of the story? Have a strong belief in something that will save you when you are having a bad day and little things mean the world is crashing. Say a little prayer and go for a jog, be still. Just know that a bad day is no match for you.

The Light of Crombie.

The first home on the left has nothing left.

It shone on all with a shattering radiance.

The light of it glowed and flowed and danced in the street.

Pouring  out through  cracks and singing from its foundation.

It entered each hearth and broke each threshold.

Until Bryn Mawr to Linn Street shone.

Still it burns brighter now in darkness than as an entity.

Because its light is our light.

                        ♥Crombie♥

My street lost a wonderful woman tonight. I do not write poems because I find them hard and I never like the flow of them. However I can not shake this image as I try to go to sleep. I know that somewhere in paradise outside the laws of time we are allready embracing as a street again. Her love and life and smile made Crombie Street into the Crombie family. Words cannot express what meaning that has.
See you soon Mary!

Another Love Story……

A small cluster of cells, now with a heartbeat. A small life just beginning. He could already see her, Jennifer, grow. He saw her falling in love with Him after he chased her through the darkness she created for herself. He saw her as He made her. He loved her with each beat of her heart. Some may not consider her alive yet. To him her beginning was further back than even this. The moment he crafted the start he knew her soul. He knew her cries and the lines around her eyes when she smiled; He knew, He loved.

 

Turn the page. Now the mother that kept her warm and safe inside herself keeps her in her arms. He saw her sit with Jennifer looking tired. He knew that her mother was attending church here instead of the church she knew, and the one which Jennifer was baptized as an infant in, because this was her mother-in-law’s church. Jennifer might have been too young to see how hard her mother tried as she begged the girl to sit still during the sermon, but He wasn’t. He knew switching to her mother-in-law’s church was an attempt that would fail to bring her husband to church with her. Like He loved Jennifer, He loved this woman very much. It grieved him to know she had many inward struggles of her own. It hurt Him that so few of the words coming from the pulpit would be applied to the husband and children she loved. He watched the big blue-eyed child with brown curls struggle in her Sunday clothes. She had so far to go. He would be with her for every moment of it.

 

Skip a few chapters; by now her mother had returned to St. Paul’s where Jennifer was baptized. She hated the church; she hated the God it housed. She hated pretending with her mother to be some sort of good person for an hour every Sunday. She hated hearing He loved her when she felt so alone. He called out to her. He screamed for her. Her cries of anger and hurt were louder. They filled her, ate at her. She was the walking dead. She could still not see Him. Pause here, let it sink in.

 

Alone later, she blasted her angry music and took out her razor. She held the razor with such misguided love. She blocked the way into her room and flung herself to her bed. She was mad at Him. His heart broke; He could see what she could not. She dressed herself in shame, in fear and turmoil. She dressed herself in the enemy’s lies. Her cloak was handed to her by the world and she drowned in the black mist of it. She only ever cried out to Him in anger. As she fell, her cloak made of guilt, shame, sadness, her feelings of uselessness and helplessness became darker. The springs of the bed responded to her weight and she made her first cut. It was shallow; She glared at Him. He knew the icy gaze was daring Him to stop her. He wanted to; He also knew she was choosing this. She knew she had Him in mind for a moment before she went empty. Her next cut was bolder. If only He could have taken the scars on Himself,  He would have.

 

He saw her put on under her cloak of death long sleeves, though it wasn’t cold. He saw her write suicide notes and he saw her fold her hands and pray. “Kill me,” they were quiet “you say you love me, prove it; kill me.” He had every intention of killing her. He had every intention of answering her prayer. Just not yet, and not in the way she wanted.

 

He saw it get to hard too hide, he saw her drink poison too diluted by water to do anything more than burn her throat. He saw her take a knife to the bathroom with a hateful heart and try to pump herself up to killing herself. He hurt with her. He longed for her to stop and he called her in His quiet voice. If only she would stop to hear.

 

It became time to intervene. He saw hair flick in the wind outside her bedroom window. He watched her look at the rotting wood platform above the door under her bedroom window. It wouldn’t hold her weight and she knew it. Didn’t she know the plans He had in store for her? He saw her fear. He knew she was angry at herself for being so afraid to take what she wanted.  He saw her step off of the ledge and onto the wood. To her surprise it held her. She stood a moment afraid it might break. She didn’t want to die. She wanted to be told she was loved. She wanted to hear she was as wonderful as her sister; she wanted her mom to not drink and her father not to stay out so late. She wanted her family. She wanted to not feel so alone in her battle. He held the wood together.

 

However, she was never alone. His plan was coming together. He brought a young couple with a heart for Himself to St. Paul’s. His name was Will and hers Cindy. He had his own plan for them and right now that plan was for them to show a small, unloved girl how to be loved. At first she wouldn’t hear, however when she was hospitalized for the third time they loved her. They did not know her, they just knew she hurt. They gave Jennifer a small, used journal she would cherish. She wrote sad depressing stories inside the walls of the hospital. Eventually it would be filled with love letters for Himself. They kept teaching at her church until she came back from a transformation and heard.

 

He saw her fake her way through confirmation.  She had some real love for him. She was starting to see. Her vision was obscured by pain. He saw her go in and out of the hospital because the parents who loved her were scared for her until she finally got it. They found her scars, her notes, they saw she was walking around dead. They were just as lost. It was time. He called and she heard. She saw her earthly father weep for the first time, “I just don’t know.. how can I keep you safe from yourself? I can’t send you into the world as your own biggest danger.”

 

She saw she was not alone. People loved her. So it was time for God to answer her prayer. Now He could show her just how loved she really is. He killed her. He killed the old dead her and planted in her life.

 

Jennifer’s father had always provided for her. He knew how to make her laugh and how to make her feel safe. He was chosen to be part of the plans He had for Jennifer. The love her father had for her would help her understand the love He had for her. Her mother would also teach her a lot. He put Will and Cindy to work bringing her on mission trips and living out the gospel. He had opened her eyes now. Now she saw with their help. She started to fall in love, she was scared, but it was okay. She trusted Him. She set her razor aside for good. He was her comfort now. During those final moments of high school she fell in love with Him. She would never have an exact moment where she fell to her knees and called on him. It had been a slow awakening for her. His love made her bold, it made her heart bigger. He made her strong.

 

It was time for Will and Cindy to go during the time she fell in love, she was crushed. She didn’t know how to respond. Eventually she picked up her journal and wrote Him for the first time. “You just pulled the rug out from under me. However… luckily for me you left the floor to break my fall.” She closed the book upset with Him. She wandered if it was because she was relying too much on Will and Cindy for connecting to Him that they had to go. She would never get an answer. He was so proud. She was still hurting but she also admitted that she knew He had left her a strong base. Soon the pages filled with letters to Him.

 

Skip a page; He had left her the floor. Her cloak was lighter now, she still clung to her cloak, now made up of mostly guilt. She could not accept His love still. She had hated Him, she had cut herself. Her last year of high school was hard. She had no Christian support beyond her now dying Youth Group on Wednesdays. Then one day her English teacher gave her an assignment. She grumbled. She had to research on what she wanted to be. She wasn’t sure, but somehow when the rug went out from beneath her she knew what she wanted. She wanted to share the knowledge of how to be loved and how to fall in love with Him. She had no idea when she decided this. She didn’t know what He did inside her. He saw how lost she still was. He saw what she still kept from him. He saw her search from college campus to college campus to find where to seek Him next.  He kept at her side. He kept within her as a scared, unsure girl sat down in an office. He heard the woman pray for Jennifer. She prayed a simple powerful prayer for direction in the teen’s life. He answered the Jennifer’s prayer of “where” and put in her heart “here.”

 

Stop here. Her music isn’t angry anymore. Each screaming verse is full of His truth and love. It brings her joy. He sees her hang up the tattered remains of her cloak. He sees the scars on her thighs and arms go to Him.  He sees her check the time as she runs to class. He sees her stumble and call on Him. He happily converses with her as she reads aloud the message he left for her. Jennifer now can’t escape Him. She has no desire to.. Jennifer is alive now, she loves church and others. More importantly she loves herself. He sees trials and hard work ahead, so does she. She isn’t afraid; she won’t tremble to the darkness. He knows her heart breaks for what breaks his. She is a light. He sees it, He is it. She was a burning flame and the world would have to find away to contain it if they thought they could escape her. He made her, He loves her, He redeemed her.

 

Keep reading… she is. 

How Late Is Too Late?

As an up and coming youth minister I am expecting many “abstinence” talks in my future. If you grew up in youth groups you know what uncomfortable things I am talking about. Split up the genders and just say “True love waits.. blah blah blah” you know the drill. I hate talking about sex. I really got my understanding of it from crime dramas. That gave me a distaste for it. I have never viewed it anything more than destructive and selfish. I remember watching SVU and MSNBC specials on human trafficking. Men are animals and slaves to their drives and females are stuck pregnant and alone. Of course crime drama was not a good place to learn about the birds and the bees but it is how it happened. Sex was dirty, dark and repulsive.

So lets talk about talking about sex.

It is everywhere: television, magazines, books, billboards, computers…. it sells cars, beer, clothes and food. Sex is liberating. You can not be a liberated and free person without having also practiced sexual freedoms (just be careful to not be a slut.) In the  Millennial generation and beyond there is a disconnect between sex and obligation. A book I read suggested to place any more meaning to sex than rabbits do is pure human sentiment. We idolize sex icons. Is this a bad thing? Is this liberation? You can form your own opinion on that.

There is a reason that I looked around and saw sex as sickening. It is broken and ugly. An empty quest to fill ourselves. A society hooked on porn and smut in some attempt of self satisfaction. I failed to see the beauty of it at all. So what do I need to tell my Youth Group?

Of course I will go over the “why” of God’s plan for sex and I will touch on how porn ruins men’s hearts for woman in class and maybe down the line in a blog. What I have never considered is that this world in it’s brokenness has scared our children. The girls I will tell of the gift of waiting have been molested, the boys I tell the joy of the pureness of his experiences have been too. There is no possible way they are making it to their wedding night virgins. Sad, but true. I realized tonight that I will also have to teach that they are victims of this culture. That they are not at fault for that and that it is never to late to late and they are never to damaged to start saving themselves. No child should leave feeling guilty for sin that was not their own.

The best way to tell if a book is good is if you came out a better person at “the end” than you were when you read the dedications.

What We Hold Onto.

This break I experienced something to be admired and heartbreaking. I met a woman 89 years (give or take) in years and still married to her husband. Her love was evident and beautiful. Passionate in an unfleshly way. He Had fallen and broken his hip years ago. This landed them in hospitals and forced them from their country home and into a nursing home. It seemed to be the only story she could tell me without forgetting. Her husband had lost his hearing as well and the surgery to repair it had failed. He was deaf and slumbered most of the visit. She examined all around her and ended the story with “Oh well, you just have to have faith I guess.”

Noun: Faith /fāTH/ Complete trust or confidence in someone or something. Strong belief in God or in the doctrines of a religion, based on spiritual apprehension rather than proof.It was nice to know she was a believer. It meant I will see her again, this world or the next. It also brought me great grief. Faith in what? Faith grounded in what? Faith based on spiritual apprehension rather than proof?

I wish she could have recalled more in her life. I wish I could have heard that it was faith that had proven true her whole life. Faith that served her like she did her husband and children. Faith that has withstood so many tests and trials. Faith that is based on historical evidence and not in argument with anything else provable. Faith that redeemed her. I wish “You just have to have faith, I guess” was “I have a most dependable God who I have known my whole life.” But, I guess that could have been what she meant.

So keep this woman and her husband in your prayers or thoughts. She is lovely and I should spend more time with my elders. She is also at the end of life and looking back only on what she can recall. It is sometimes a greater strength that says “You just have to have faith, I guess” than what someone as young and unlived as I who can say “My God will keep his promises.”

Sometimes everything is okay, it is not perfect, but… it seems perfect enough.

Another New Year

I meant to write on Christmas or Christmas Day. I spent it enjoying my family instead and I hope you did the same!

As for New Years I am thankful to be here. The truth is there was a point in my life that I might have chosen a path that would have denied me this year. Suicide was a real option at a point in my life. I still maintain that I am a cynic at heart. As I reflect on this year and news titles I am grieved. Everything seems to be getting worse and we just keep spinning on through one supposed apocalypse to the next.  People keep on living in this sick and twisted place. We are in one giant hand basket on the way to hell.

So why do I have this year? God’s grace is the simplest answer. He stepped in when I asked Him to and because of that I roam this world. I am still broken. I still spend free hours in the night fantasizing about what people would say at my funeral. How my Facebook friend’s resolutions would change if I slit my wrist and bleed out on the carpet. Would they vow to be nicer or to live fuller? Would they stop taking this all for granted? Would they be sorry? Would they wish they had known me better? Maybe, maybe not. As I get closer to the 5 year mark of no self harm and further from the 4 year mark I have another year of not dwelling on such things.So how can I spend this year I might not have had? Firstly by living it to the fullest for the souls lost to suicide. I survived something some don’t. I can spend it seeking the hurting who think they are alone and being genuine in my care for them. We can stop letting people slip through the cracks by loving more (see how I cleverly switched to we to include you?). We can be real people who are honest about our mistakes and what we don’t have together, we can forgive more and we can give more. We can join hands and be a light to the people in our lives and we can pray for anyone battling with wanting to live tonight. We can spend this year realizing we are not the only person on this planet. Even if we are cynics at heart we have to be optimists in practice

Here is a resolution for anyone reading who is contemplating suicide:

I am not alone this year, I have life in my lungs and that is precious. This hurt is not forever and it will not overcome me. I will find someone who cares and be honest with them about this. I will spend this year learning how to live in a way that brings me joy even if my circumstances do not change, I will bring in next New Years as well doing something worth living for. Be it a good book or time with my friends. I will be strong.

I might not have had this year to fall in love with Doctor Who, grieve over the Packers Kicker, laugh, play games, make mistakes, learn, mature or dream and I will continue to live in a way that I hope will give someone else another New Years.

Verse for the night:
Lamentations 3:22-23
Because of the LORD’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.  They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, “The LORD is my portion; therefore I will wait for him.