What Not To Forget In Battle #1: Your Sword

I’m going to be responsible and not use blogging to procrastinate, even though that’s what I want to do, so this will be short.

All I really want to say is this: the Bible is truth. I believe many authors of Christian literature have a true gift for writing and teaching, and reading books about the Bible and Christian life is super helpful and a good thing to do. But we have to remember that the Bible is the standard and the only book we can be sure is completely true. Yes, God speaks through others, but we have a responsibility to check what they say and/or write against the Bible. Yes, God speaks through visions and prophecy, but again, we always have to check it against the Bible. If it doesn’t agree, then which will we accept – the words of people, who after all are only human like everyone else, or the Word of God?

“For the word of God is living and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.” Hebrews 4:12

“I delight in your decrees; I will not neglect your word. Do good to your servant, and I will live; I will obey your word.” Psalm 119:16-17

“All your words are true; all your righteous laws are eternal.” Psalm 119:160

For more on this, see all of Psalm 119.

Retaking the Test

I just had a rather unpleasant experience related to probably failing a major test in one of my majors and therefore having to retake the course (if I fail, which I’m 99% sure I did). This sparked a rather un-Christian head rant, especially because of the way the lecturer has been treating me/treated me today, which in turn got me thinking about God, the tests he gives us, and how life is actually really, really freaking hilarious.

My pastor talked a few weeks ago about how God shapes and transforms us. One of the things he said was that when we fail a test in life, the opportunity for the change God wanted to bring about isn’t gone forever; when the time is right, he’ll give us the same test, again and again, until we pass. He is a God of endless second chances and endless mercy and patience. I’ve just tangibly experienced this, so I’ll tell you about it and maybe it’ll help you out, too.

In high school, I had several truly amazing teachers…you know, ones who care about you as a person and a student, who truly want you to succeed, who go above and beyond the call of duty, and who pour so much effort into educating and enriching you that you have to wonder where they get all their energy from. But then I had one teacher…let’s call her Mrs. Drawls…who was possibly the worst teacher I’ve ever had. I’m sure some others had a great experience with her, but we just didn’t get along, and I wasn’t the only one in this predicament. When this happened in the past, I would stop putting effort into the class for some ridiculous but secretly satisfying reason (even though the only one it affected was me). In short, by the end of the first semester, she pulled me aside and told me in so many words (and in a seriously condescending tone) that I’d better just drop out of her class because I obviously couldn’t do the work, and that I was also distracting my friend from doing her work (when in reality the only time I talked to her in class was to tell her to stop drawing and pay attention). She had absolutely no desire to figure out what the actual problem was and help me fix it, and besides that, she talked to me like I was an idiot. I’m not saying teachers should care, since that isn’t in their job description and life is hard, yadda yadda. I’m saying that they have an amazing opportunity to help raise strong leaders and hard workers, and it’s really freaking sad when they just throw that chance away.

Anyway. So I transferred to a lower level class the next semester, where that teacher told me it was stupid that I was in his class, and gave me different work from the rest of his students even though it was more effort on his part, since he was essentially handling two different lesson plans. THAT’S an amazing teacher.

So all was well and I was never in Mrs. Drawls’s class again. Until now. That’s right, one of my lecturers, let’s call him Mr. Mascara, is like her twin, even in appearance, except he’s British. Anyway. I won’t go into detail, except to say that he is, quite obviously, my second test in this area. It’s possibly harder now because I’m no longer a wimpy fourteen year-old and almost gave him a lecture today, but luckily God tied my tongue into a knot. The “love your enemies” thing is especially difficult when they handle your marks.

My point in this long and rambling blog is that if you gave yourself to God, and asked him to purify you, you can be sure that he will. If you ask for his fire, he’ll send it. Better to ask for it and enter into it willingly than to be thrown in, though, you know what I’m saying? (By fire I don’t mean hell, I mean the refining fire God uses to burn away impurities in our lives). And if you get out of one fire without passing through, you can be sure that he’ll bring it around again. But ALSO remember this: God gives us everything we need to handle anything that comes our way. He gives us strength for the day, and he knows how much strength we need. So don’t worry. Jesus doesn’t just douse you in flames in watch while you burn; he stands in them with you, holding your hand.

Oops

I was going to call this “Oops, I did it again” but that would have been too 90′s and would have sparked all kinds of unpleasant flashbacks.

Sometimes I envy people who have just given their lives to Christ. I mean, obviously it just gets better and in most respects I’m so glad I’ve known God for a few years. But when you just become a follower of Jesus, you have this…intense, vivid sense of his love for you. Nothing else matters and the world melts away because of the absolute clarity of his love. And you know that he loves you because of who he is, not because of anything you do – meaning you can’t ever do enough to deserve it, but you can’t do enough to make it fade, either. When you give yourself to Christ, and if your heart’s desire is to really follow after him, your sins are gone. When you come to him, he knows what sins you will still commit; he knew when he died for you on the cross and rose again; but he still loves and accepts you, because he is love.

But somehow I kind of forgot this. Or…not forgot it, but forgot how significant it is. I got caught up in the faith by works deal…which, aside from defeating the point, makes you burn out pretty freaking fast, because you’re trying to be perfect and only relying on human strength to be perfect. Which, as all of history and the Bible and everything in the world ever proves again and again, is impossible.

Doing good is good. But if doing good doesn’t flow out of your love for Christ, then it’s frankly meaningless except for short term results. And when we as Christians do this out of our own strength, after having tasted the energy and vigor that the Holy Spirit gives to us, we burn out. Really fast. As for me, when this happens, I tend to fall back. I’m not talking drug abuse or anything overtly, obviously, outwardly wrong. I’m talking neglecting to read my Bible, neglecting to pray, and bringing issues God has dealt with in my life back into existence – self consciousness (and therefore selfishness), apathy, and so on.

As Christians, the love and blood of Christ is everything. It is our food and water, the blood in our veins, the beat of our hearts, the breath in our lungs. We depend on it completely and all of our actions, thoughts, and words are influenced by it. By him. So when we turn away from that and start trying to do things in our own strength, it’s the equivalent of trying to run a marathon while holding our breath. In short, it doesn’t work. But luckily for us, God knew even this would happen; he knows that our society and the world since its beginning is based on earning and “getting what you deserve.” He knows it’s difficult for us to accept that his love is free; all he requires is all that we are. Which is probably why this little bit was included in the Bible:

“Christ Jesus, who died – more than that, who was raised to life – is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?…For I am convinced that neither death nor life, nor angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8:34-35, 38-39

Jesus is probably the most radical revolutionary figure in history, because he wasn’t trying to overthrow one system within a system. He overthrew the entire order of the world. Love your enemies (Matthew 5:44). The least will be the greatest (Matthew 20:16, Luke 9:46-50). No one can earn salvation or God’s approval by what you do (Ephesians 2:8-9). Infinite grace, and available to anyone, whether prostitutes, murderers, thieves, law abiding citizens, arrogant people, cowardly people, lazy people (Mark 2:13-17, Luke 7:36-50). He turned it all upside down. And he loves you more than anyone could ever fathom (Proverbs 8:17, 1 John 4:7-21, the whole Bible).

The point is, this is actually very simple. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind, and love your neighbor as yourself. (Luke 10:27). The rest will flow from this, and God will work it out.

For more on this, check out all of Romans 8 and 9.

The Long Haul, Episode 3

Hello, old friend. I was expecting to see you much more this semester, but for some reason I didn’t. Now, however, I get the feeling you’re about to make up for your long absence.

For previous episodes, feel free to check out The Long Haul and The Long Haul Episode 2. Unfortunately this time I started my all nighter at 5 pm this afternoon and was at the UCT library taking pages of notes so I could be done with my research in time before the place closes at 10 (who the freaking heck made that silly decision???). Aaaaanywho, I was going to hang around campus and spend the night in the commerce labs (aka The Place We Go To Because For Some Silly Reason The Humanities Labs Are Less, Smaller, And Close Earlier Even Though We Have More Essays To Write), but then it got cold and I wanted coffee, and then the library closed and I had to make a decision, so here I am at home, sitting by the heater and waiting for the water to boil for COOOOFFFEEEEE.

In short, I have to write one humongous paper with tons of references/citing about the role of the Bhagavad Gita in Hinduism, and one smaller essay about Chinese religions which right now is looking like a picnic compared with its mammoth counterpart, in addition to several Greek and Hebrew assignments. I spent five hours without breaks taking ten full pages of notes by hand on the Bhagavad Gita in addition to skim-reading a large part of it. If I’m not an amateur expert on this thing now, then there is no hope for mankind. Yes, I am stalling. {A disclaimer/don’t-murder-me plea: yes, I am aware that I have the ability to prevent these things, and yes, I am aware that lots of people have had to do many all nighters…I am also aware that they have the ability to prevent these things just as much as I do. I shall not be yelled at for having better time management skills, nor shall I be deprived of my long and rambling blog [the sole purpose of which is to keep me motivated] because of it. That is all.}

10:41 pm: Soooo combing other people’s books for quotes/information to use actually doesn’t translate into writing an introduction. No one tells you this, and even though you yourself have realized this multiple times before, it never gets better. *sigh* However, this is still not as bad as The Long Haul. Nothing is as bad as AP World History, even if there is more work involved. Nothing.

11:51 pm: Hey look, it’s almost midnight and an hour later and I have TWO WHOLE PARAGRAPHS. *makes coffee* On the bright side, my paper is perfectly, immaculately formatted. I did not spend 10 minutes on this to put off the actual writing, what are you talking about? I am also not using Wikipedia. Nope. Also, are you aware of all the distractions out there? Who knew there were so many fake internet religions?

12:47 am: I’m finally on a roll. The first few paragraphs of a paper are always the hardest for some reason. Anyway, no one can say I haven’t done my research. Now I almost have too much to say.

2:20 am: Hooray for being done with my massive paper! Well, mostly. I still have to type up the bibliography. I’m hoping we didn’t have to use all the sources, because I found some of my own that were way better, and I went over the word requirement as it is.

3:41 am: My brain isn’t working. This is so pathetic. I’m trying to read this Confucianism stuff and my brain is literally not working. *makes coffee*

4:49 am: Aaaaaand it’s almost dawn. This is awesome. Is it just me or does time actually go faster at night…*makes coffee*

5:57 am: Well this was considerably less exciting than the other episodes, partly because I was working instead of blogging, which I guess is a step forward. Anyway, I got most of the work done…I still have a bit to do on the smaller essay, but it’s not major. Yay! And now I’m going to get ready for the day. Who needs sleep anyway? The coffee people will be seeing me a few times before I come home again, methinks……

A Love Letter

Sooo I was kind of expecting this to happen, so I wasn’t exactly surprised, just…taken aback. But I was sitting in my room, thinking about all the studying I had to do that night, when suddenly the thought came: What am I doing? I’m studying languages? Where did that even come from? I definitely thought I would be doing medicine…so much so, shall we recall, that I applied for it and was rejected before I realized that I should just follow my passion, three whole months before coming to UCT (this is not a lot). And what precisely do I plan to live on after I finish my BA? I don’t think there are many people out there paying good money to have a mediocre ancient Greek scholar translate things from or into ancient Greek, unless there’s an isolated colony of Zeus worshipers somewhere I don’t know about. And oh, French. Only about a billion people know French. And Hebrew. Such a large amount of people speak Hebrew and learning it is going to be SO useful in global communication…oh, wait, JUST KIDDING. I mean, yeah, I want to get involved with Bible translation, but what if I change my mind? What if what if what if.

And then I kind of felt like God did the equivalent of clamping his hand over my mouth and sitting me down in a chair. I decided to share this because it applies not only to me, but to everyone who has given their lives, every speck of every moment of every day, to God, and to everyone who desires with all that they are and more to follow Christ, to see his name praised, and to walk with God.

“Don’t you have faith in me? You know this is what I told you to do. Does it matter if the world does or does not think that it’s useless and a waste of time? Does it matter that you don’t know the future? I know the future; it rests in my hands. You’re doing what I told you to, you are where I want you to be, and that’s enough. Have faith in me like you’ve had throughout your life. Haven’t I always taken care of you? Don’t you remember my promises? Your mind isn’t yours to change; you gave it to me, you gave your whole life to me, and I have it planned down to the most seemingly insignificant detail, down to how many breaths you take, down to the dirt under your fingernails. If you keep giving yourself to me every moment of every day, nothing will disrupt my plans for you; nothing will destroy the life I made for you.”

Me: “Yeah, but -”

“Be still and know that I am God. I love you and care for you more than anyone else ever could; I created love; I am love. Trust in me. I am always with you, even to the end of the age. I never give you more than you can take, with my help. I never entrust more to you than you can accomplish. Don’t I know your capabilities, and vices, better even than you? Didn’t I knit you together in your mother’s womb with my very hands? Didn’t I breathe into you my very breath and give you life? I know exactly the purpose for which I made you. I know exactly the way in which I will use you for my glory. Trust in me, and you will know contentment and peace in every circumstance; in pain and joy, in trials and times of plenty, in starvation and abundance, in loneliness and companionship. To you much has been given, and much will be required, but I have given you everything you need to accomplish what I have made you to accomplish in my name. Your life will not be easy, but it will be blessed because my hand is on you. You will fall, but I will pull you up. You will sin, but I will forgive you if you ask it of me. You will fear, but I will give you courage.

“Because you love me, I will bless you. Because you draw near to me, I will draw near to you. Because you hold my laws and commands in the depths of your heart, and because you desire to honor them, I will protect you. When you call me, I will answer. Because you praise my name, you will find rest in me. And when you have found rest, I will send you far beyond the edge of your circles, to proclaim my love for every person, so that they may know my love as you know my love. I have sent the Savior, but they have not heard of him. I have sent a gift, but they don’t know he’s there for them to accept. But because you know him, you know me, and you know the love I have for you and for all people, and I will send you to draw them close to my heart so that they, too, can rest in me.

“I am your strength and your song. I am your lover and King, your friend and Savior, your daddy and your God. Trust in me, and rest in my love.”

Deuteronomy 26:16-19, Deuteronomy 28, Judges 6, Job chapters 38-42, Psalm 1, Psalm 46, Psalm 90, Psalm 139, Psalm 119, Jeremiah 29, Matthew 28, Romans 8, Romans 12, 1 Corinthians 2, 2 Corinthians 1:3-7, 2 Corinthians 4, 2 Peter 1, 1 John 1, 1 John 3, pretty much the whole freaking Bible to be perfectly honest.

God is Not Like Salticrax

Let me start by saying that for those of you who don’t live (according to the languages on the box) in South Africa, France, Italy, Greece, China, or the Middle East, I am very sorry, because you have not tasted the AMAZINGNESS that is Salticrax. Really, there is no other cracker that compareth to these. They’re addictive, too. Like, really addictive. Once you start eating you quite probably won’t stop until you suddenly realize that you’ve finished all the crackers and are gnawing on the cardboard box. But then they’re gone and because you’re a college kid with no car and Woolworths is just so far to walk (oh my word, an entire ten minutes), there’s no more and you have to go search the cupboards for biltong or olives or something to fill the gap.

So, okay, God is way more than Salticrax, but my point is, my gosh He’s addictive…and he doesn’t run out. Every now and then I manage to convince myself that there will eventually be a balancing out, or a fullness, or a limit to how much I want Him. This is because my brain is tiny and human and can’t quite comprehend the whole infinite thing. The more I “get” the more I want. This, of course, has nothing to do with me, but has everything to do with God’s unfathomable amazingness, his literal AWEsomeness, his breathtaking beauty, his unconditional love, his limitless grace, his every word. He’s far from safe but we are safe with Him; he holds us in his hands through every single circumstance, every single second of every day. I both fear him with trembling knees, and love him and feel safe with him. Even trying to describe him feels a little bit pointless, because how can a creation describe or adequately praise the Creator? How can language, which God made and gave to us, hope to be enough to praise him? His name alone is indescribably, unfathomable, too vast for words. And yet he loves us with a burning, passionate love, a love that doesn’t depend on what we do or don’t do but on the cleansing blood of Christ.

“‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future…You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.’” {Jeremiah 29:11, 13.}

Mother’s Day

Happy Mother’s Day to all the moms out there. You are loved and appreciated and we would be nowhere without you

New Format

Hey guys, I just majorly changed things around so please bear with me if things aren’t working smoothly quite yet. Things should be a little easier to find now. You can always check down here for updates, and the featured posts will change now and again. As you can see the latest post is at the very top, and all the others can be found either through searching (at the very top of the page), clicking on tags, or going through the archives under “Backtrack.”

Why My Mom is Best

You are the most incredible, most beautiful mom in the world.
You spent all the time, energy, effort, and thought that you had to raise me, be there for me, and guide me; and you still do.
You love me for who I am and don’t try to force me into a mold.
You encourage all my antics and strangeness, and love me for them.
You show me every day what it is to be gentle, to be kind, to be patient, to be forgiving, to be unselfish, to be loving without condition, to be a follower of Christ, to be a daughter of God.
You show me every day what it is to be truly beautiful; and you are, from the deepest part of your heart to the tip of your nose.
You are absolutely lovely in every way possible, and in some ways that are impossible.
You know that sometimes all a person needs is to cry, even if there’s no real reason for it.
You never judge me, you always give me the benefit of the doubt, and you always love me.
You are the best mom in the world, but you’re also my friend and my sister.
You’re not above watching chick flicks and eating bowl fulls of ice cream with me.
You make me soup when I’m sick and make me comfort food when I’m heartsick.
Your arms are always there to hug me, your ears are always there to listen, your words are always there to comfort and guide.

These are all reasons that add to why you’re the best, and there are so many more that they are quite possibly infinite; but the BIGGEST reason of all is simply because you’re you, and you’re my mom, and I love you lots. xoxoxox

The World in My Marrow

Today, I am Indian. I hide my body in a modestly flattering kurta and wear long, beaded earrings and a soft, feminine scarf that covers my collarbones and dances behind me as I walk. Grace and beauty and a hint of spices and something deep, something mysterious, something far away and yet in reach, something beyond words.

I am 19 years old, South African according to my passport, of average intelligence and appearance, and of above average height. But really, none of this matters. If I speak with my soul, I’m sometimes young and sometimes old, sometimes of wine lands and sometimes of harsh, overworked earth or of high, mist covered mountains, and I’m grey, or blue-green, or a happy, sunflower yellow. Rarely, I’m red or black, and when I am I feel at odds with myself. Sometimes I’m an earthy color, or the color of an autumn leaf. But again, none of this really matters.

I am 19 years old and I’ve been to 27 countries in North America, Europe, Asia, and, the place where most of my heart has been planted in various places, Africa. My favorite countries are not necessarily those I expected, or those I chose to adore. They are places that demanded my love, either by force or in passionate, seductive ways, either in broad daylight or bathed in the silver light of the moon when the world is transformed into cold, ethereal beauty. They are places that stay in my dreams, that influence my actions and thoughts, that I both long for because they are familiar and never want to see again for fear that they will become too familiar, that demand my attention and affection even when I’m not in them.

South Africa for her gold and green and almost feverish obsession with living and freedom and creation and diversity. She grasps at this, at that, at everything that is life, at poverty and riches, at deepest anguish and deepest joy; a mixed blood flows in her veins, of corruption and justice, of purity and pollution, of ardor and tragic complacency, of too-clear sight and blindness. Young and inexperienced, but strong, so strong; determined. She is too young to be beautiful, and yet her insatiable hunger, her unquenchable thirst for life gives breath to her growing soul, gives sparkling magic to her youth.

Ethiopia for her ruthless beauty, for her demand of your heart and your soul, for her demand of your thoughts and loyalties and your surrender to her mossy cliffs. A queen mistaken for a prostitute; a royal queen who lives among her people, who knows their pains, their fears, their desires, their every thought. She protects her people from those who would not understand their beauty, the breathtaking immaculateness etched into their souls. Her pain makes her beauty more pronounced, her anguish deepens her lovely gaze.

Egypt for her ancient resoluteness. Like Ethiopia, she is a queen; now forgotten and abandoned, she roams her bloody golden sands, no less steadfast. A wise beauty, an ancient beauty, a warrior queen, unbridled, unafraid, unashamed. The chains around her ankles do not affect her spirit; she has been free, she has ruled the world, and she will be free again. Her wisdom comes from experience, her long past, her forgotten glory.

Zambia for her warmth, her contentment, her careless abandon. She is a wild summer, encroached upon by winter, but unable to be overtaken. Her swaying reeds, her smile which comes from her very depths, her soft, strong voice. She is uncharted wilderness, welcoming but dangerous to those who mean her harm. Her soft red dust and warm pink moon, trusting but wise, open but conditional. Once innocent, once broken, her lesson learned, but no less graceful.

India for her objection to being boxed in with words, for her elusive soul, her hidden treasures, her out of reach heart. She is the veiled lady, her veil garish with color and shimmering jewels, herself hidden. You are distracted by her veil, her covering; you look no further, or you would see her natural grace, her harmony disguised by noise and discord, her fire and fierce love, and her eyes, sweet and welcoming as a flower, clean and bright as a fountain at dawn, splashed with the sun’s golden rays.

These are the places in my heart, the pieces of my mind. Their people are inscribed into my memories, their sounds and smells and sights emblazoned in my senses. I can recall the scent of Zambian bread, baked fresh in the fire, like anise and something sweet and something only Zambian, something like security and tea and comfort and warmth. And the whirls of dust in Egypt, like glittering gold flakes against the sun at dawn, a teasing reminder of long gone treasures of a long gone empire.

I love these places, and many others, too many and too few. They are the clearest chapters of my past, more real than time in between, spent in the place I called home, spent in suburbs and clean-swept streets and trees with too little desire to grow. But even that I love, even that is part of me; I love the shallow safety, I love the sturdy fences, the cardboard houses, the contrast of tradition and frivolousness. I love them all; I love everywhere.