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Archive for the ‘Growing Faith’ Category

“Love the Sinner, Hate the Sin” and other bullshit we call Biblical

Posted in Free to be me, Growing Faith, thinking things through on March 26, 2013| 17 Comments »

If you’re new to this blog, or we’ve never met, then you need to know some very important things about me:

  1. I love Jesus. Completely. Unswervingly. And I know He’s crazy about me.
  2. I love people. More than animals, nature, philosophy, and chocolate.
  3. I am falling in love with Jesus’ bride, the Church. Choosing to be in love is probably more accurate.
  4. I have the privilege of friendship with thousands of people of every age, gender, nationality, religious creed, and sexual orientation.

I need you to know these things to set the context of what I’m about to say.

I’ve sat through amazingly frustrating conversations with friends whose hearts are golden. They love Jesus and strive to please Him, but they have swallowed so many platitudes over the years that they can’t even see how offensive they have become with their thoughtless comments like the first part of this post’s title, which is a thought from Gandhi, not the person of Jesus Christ.

As a young, zealous Christian, I used this phrase repeatedly, and I truly meant it. It made me feel good and holy to say it, like I was rising above something. But I’ve learned to be honest about my faith, and now I groan in frustration with this noble sounding garbage. I understand that it is an attempt to articulate that we’re supposed to love everyone, including the people who do bad things and are stuck in bad habits or addictions. Love the person, but hate what they do. Please, tell me how it’s possible to separate the person from their actions. I’ve never met anyone who HATED a behavior but still truly LOVED the person stuck in or choosing to participate in said behavior. When you hate something, you can’t help but feel negative emotion towards the person attached to it. It gets personal. Here’s a truth for you:

I am the sinner, and I am crushed by those who want to love me but can’t reconcile their hate for some of the things I believe and do. Sometimes it paralyzes me – the hate wearing a mask of love.

I have been bullied and abused by people in the name of “love” because in their minds, that is better than letting my flesh melt off in the fiery pit of hell for all eternity. I’ve been called all kinds of names and accused of denying the Bible as Truth, because I have tattoos, I don’t think ass is a cuss word (and I used the word bullshit in my title for this post), I shop at stores that support issues I don’t agree with, I love homosexuals, the name on my church sign doesn’t match theirs, and I don’t have a meek and humble spirit. I’m not a Proverbs 31 woman, and I don’t care. I can’t live up to the hype. But I am madly in love with Jesus, and He’s equally smitten with me. Every day I have to look to Him for my worth, because I’m not good enough for me, let alone anyone else. So I believe I am built to offer that same courtesy to others; See them as better than me rather than the other way around. Is that easy? Hell no!

I am a sinner, I’m not sin.

How about others? Be honest. How many rapists, child molesters, murderers, and genocidal dictators to you love? You hate their sin, right? Do you love them apart from their actions? How about liars, cheaters, and thieves? That feels a little more doable, doesn’t it? What say you about bullies, drug dealers, and pimps? Love them? Hate them? How about politicians whose personhood agendas differ from your own? Or your neighbor who leaves her neglected children at home so you have 3 extra kids to feed and feel responsible for? How about your friend’s sister who is an angry, belligerent lesbian? Or the televangelist who had a very public affair? Or the man who beat on you so many times you chose to run away? Or the Christian who feels justified in their hatred towards others? Where is the love for them as people?

Jesus has yet to say, “Niki, I am going to fill your life with people who are hard to love, and I want you to love them with everything in you, but still hate the things they do. Good luck with that.”

Love the sinner. That means EVERYONE. Forget the hate part and focus on the love part. I’m not saying we should accept, approve, or condone bad behaviors. They are destructive and anti-relationship, but don’t kid yourself thinking this is a holy statement and pleasing to Jesus. He was the one hanging out with loose women, cheating tax guys, common fishermen, and being accused of being a drunkard and glutton. I can’t find any examples in my Bible of Him loving broken people while showing disgust for what they do. (Lets save the Pharisees for a later discussion.) It wasn’t apparent by any of His actions, so was He condoning their behavior? No.  Jesus  loved people right where they were, and they were changed by being with Him.

THAT IS WHO I WANT TO BE!

Why should we waste time hating behavior when so many people are desperate for our love?

What does condoning behavior look like? How is it different from loving behavior?

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.

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I Am a Shield

Posted in Big Announcements, Free to be me, Growing Faith, Miracles, tagged , , , on August 8, 2012| 17 Comments »

My cousin Janet sent me this necklace when I was nervous about my trip to Wisconsin in April. I wore it or carried it in my pocket the whole week I was there to remind me of her, and that I never walk alone. It really did give me courage, and I love her for it! But my story doesn’t begin there. We have to back up a bit.

Several years ago I read the book Captivating by John & Staci Eldredge, and fell in love with the idea of being a warrior princess. It was the strong women in movies, books, and the Bible that drew my admiration. Ezer Kinegdo. (A rough Hebrew translation: a desperately needed companion, or a life saver who comes alongside you. It was only used to describe 2 people in the old testament- Eve, when she was created, and God himself.) I want to be THAT. Reading that book changed my life. I felt understood, accepted, and encouraged. I asked God to show me who I am, and for the first time, I knew that I wasn’t ever going to be dainty and God was okay with that. He confirmed that I am a warrior princess. That played out for me in a very tangible way about a year later.

A good friend of mine had to appear in court. It was a pretty big deal. When I told him I wanted to be there with him and his wife to cover them in prayer, he reluctantly agreed. I prayed for the whole 30 minute drive to the courthouse. I asked God to give me the right words to encourage them. I prayed on the armor described in Ephesians in the Bible. I prayed for protection and wisdom. But I was still surprised when I got out of the van and felt 10 feet tall and invincible. I was a giant going to battle and I knew I was not alone. I was completely fearless, and that was just the beginning.

It was the last night of our SABBATH week with Trevor’s youth group, and we wanted to send the teens off with a blessing. We had them stand in a circle with Benny in the middle and me on the outside. We didn’t have a plan. We just wanted to follow the Holy Spirit’s leading. As I began to pray, I could feel the enemy pressing in. I prayed for protection and got an image in my head of my hands lifted and a large bubble descending over us. I knew that I was shielding the group from the enemy while Benny blessed them. Later that night, I told Benny about it and more importantly, I asked God about it. Was this a piece of who I am? Pictures while I pray isn’t the norm, but I knew it was an important vision for me.

I’m a crier. I am not afraid of tears, and God uses that. When I am touched on a deep spiritual level (I call it having a Holy Spirit moment), I cry. But the tears in those moments are from a different place inside of me than my tears of joy, grief, and anger. I don’t question it because it’s always been that way with me and God. He moves me.

When I read the Lord of the Rings Trilogy and watched the movies, Eowyn resonated with me. She gave me hope and courage to step more fully into who I am. In one of my favorite scenes in The Two Towers, Aragorn reminds Eowyn that she is a daughter of kings – a shield maiden of Rohan, and I wept.  Someone left this comment on the YouTube video:”It is amazing the way hope rises when fear is engaged with the truth of who we are and who we belong to.”

I once heard a pastor teach a lesson about every player on a football team having a specific job to do and the importance of each teammate playing their position to the best of their ability. I cried. Over football! I am not a quarterback, I’m the woman standing between the quarterback and the opposition. I am a shield.

I was stunned when I read Breaking Dawn by Stephenie Meyer and she described Bella’s gift. The imagery used was the same as my vision of the bubble of protection I had prayed over the teens a few years previous. She was Ezer Kinegdo. And I cried, because I am a shield.

When Will moved in, I gave him this necklace. It’s a Telmarine shield from the movie Prince Caspian. I saw them a few years ago and was so moved by them, that I bought four. I didn’t know why since I only have three children. Now I know.

You still with me? Here’s where it gets weird…and very cool.

A few months ago, I was praying over someone at church and my hands were raised when I felt a tingling in my right shoulder that traveled across to my left shoulder and down my left arm. I told Benny about it and that I thought there should be a name to describe it, but I didn’t know what it was. It has happened many times since then – always when I was worshiping or praying over someone.

A few weeks ago, I was sitting at breakfast with one of our SABBATH groups when a song from Benny’s iPod began to play. (Make War by Tedashii.) It’s not really my style of music, but this song grabs me. At the lyrics, “Stand fearless on the front line,” my shoulder and arm began to tingle, and I froze. Everything I just told you played through my head like a movie flashback, or beads of mercury drawing together to form a puddle. Completely stunned, I looked at Benny and said, “I am a shield! I know why my arm is tingling!”  Because I had been sharing this stuff all along, he just smiled at me and said, “duh,” then googled arm/shoulder armor and came up with this picture:

I found this one:

THAT is what I feel when I pray! It’s called a manica, and it’s my spiritual armor.

I am a shield.

I fight for people. I protect them. I stand between them and the enemy.

When I walk in my identity – who I truly am – there is no fear.

Do you know who you are? Are you walking in your identity? What’s your story?

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Flying with Shahzad

Posted in Growing Faith, Joy in the Journey, Traveling on July 4, 2012| 4 Comments »

As I sauntered down the jetway to the plane, I tucked my phone into my laptop case meant for the overhead bin. I silently told God I was ready to love on anyone He wanted me to, but if it was to be a quiet flight, my Kindle was primed and ready.

I chose a window seat and waited for the popularity contest to begin. If you’ve flown before, you know it’s true.  Do I sit by the mom with the baby? Between the two big guys who will squish me between them? The loud, chatty lady on her cell phone? I’m very friendly, but I’m a big woman and assumed I wouldn’t be at the top of someone’s list of seatmates for a two hour flight.

The loud chatty lady on her cell phone sat down in the aisle seat of my row. When everyone was aboard, we thought we’d beaten the odds and would be able to stretch out a bit with the empty seat between us. Then a middle-eastern man asked to sit with us. I didn’t understand the language he was speaking into his phone, so I pulled out my Kindle.

My personal space is pretty small, but I was uncomfortably aware of the closeness with the stranger sitting next to me, so I was leaning into the window as we prepared for take-off. He looked at me and smiled, so I smiled back and began the polite conversation about where he was headed and how his time was spent in Oklahoma. I was worrying the whole time that I was taking up too much space.

The conversation flowed easily with him as we talked about life where he lives in San Francisco, sweltering Oklahoma summers, and the fires in Colorado. I told him that I’d been working at a church teen camp for 2 weeks and he stared at me for a minute. “So, you are Christian?” his accent was thick and I had to pay attention to the words so I wouldn’t have to ask him to repeat himself. “Yes, I am.”

Him – “Are you Baptist?”

Me – “No, I’m just a Christian.”

“How is your faith? You practice it? You believe in Heaven and Hell?”

“Yes, I don’t quite understand it all, but yes, I believe, and I think my faith is strong most of the time.”

“I was born Muslim. You know Muslim?”

“Sort of. Well, not really. I know that you believe in Allah and follow the prophet Mohammed. I believe in God and follow His son Jesus, whom you believe is also a prophet. Is that correct?”

“I believe in God and that he sent many prophets to reveal Himself, but there were 5 Major Prophets – Adam, Abraham, Moses, Mohammed, and Jesus.”

“May I ask you some questions?”

“You may ask me anything.”

We filled the next hour with conversation about faith and love and how they should be lived out. At some point I realized I was no longer leaning away, but we were leaning into each other, our heads bent together like old friends.

He told me of his move to the U.S. from Iran to go to university when he was a young man. He had always imagined America to be lush, green, and beautiful, so he was quite shocked when he landed in Oklahoma City. 😉 He does think America is beautiful, but it took him a few years of traveling to figure that out. He spoke of his family and how proud he was of his children. He told me of visits back to his homeland and how disgusted he was with all of the violence. He asked about my family and politely listened as I rambled on about Benny and the kids, and of course, SEVENS.

I asked questions about the Muslim religion, requirements, customs, and what he thought of Muslims and Christians not getting along and sometimes hating each other. A sad look appeared on his face and he replied, “It is a very sad thing that God’s children would hate at all. I want peace. I want peace for all man. Guns and war should not be. My wife teaches my children to pray to God for peace. We need to teach our children not to hate and fight, but to love.”

This man shattered my preconceived ideas about Muslims. I shook his hand to introduce myself.

“My name is Shahzad. It means, ‘Son of the King.’”

“My name is Nikalas. It means, ‘victory of the people.’ I’m a daughter of the Most High King.”

He smiled at me, “Yes, you are.”

We were a picture of contrast, both of us throwing out questions to the other about our faith, families, and how we see our world. Him, a fifty something year old Muslim business man, and me, an almost forty-year old writer/homeschooling mom, finding common ground to stand on. Both of us parents of 4 children, trying to love the people God puts in front of us, and wondering how God will use us in the future.

He reached over and touched my tattoo sleeve. “You have such beautiful skin. Why you do this? “ I laughed and began explaining why, and what it means.

“So you do this before you believed?”

“Um, no. I did this because I believed. It’s part of my story. part of who I am and what God has done in me.”

He frowned and shook his head a bit. “I think you are good, a beautiful woman, but I don’t understand.”

I smiled and patted his arm, “Thank you, and I’m okay with that.” We both chuckled as we relaxed into our seats to prepare for landing. I couldn’t believe 2 hours had flown by so quickly. As we stood in the aisle waiting to unboard the plane, he turned and shook my hand again.

“It was an honor to meet you, Shahzad.”

“You remembered my name! And your pronunciation is very good.” He smiled. “It was an honor to meet you, Nikalas. God bless you!”

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My how I’ve changed…

Posted in Free to be me, Growing Faith, Homelessness, October Challenge, thinking things through on October 20, 2011| 5 Comments »

A man’s body was pulled from Boulder Creek yesterday. It’s the second time this month, and my very first thought was, “Oh God! Please don’t let it be anyone I know.” It’s not what I would have thought before we moved here. Back then I would have thought, “How sad!” and gone on with my day. Now news like that stops me cold. It got me thinking about how far I’ve come – how much I’ve changed. I am still me, but I’m a better version. Growth is good. My edges are smoother, the hardness softened, I have thicker skin, and more patience. God has made me pliable, more loving and forgiving, and definitely more dependent on Him. I’ve let go of so many preconceived notions about others, found a deep community of friends, walked through healing of some of my childhood horrors, and stepped into a new life of writing and speaking.

Yes, I’ve changed. The past 7 years have held such beautiful moments of triumph and crushing moments of sorrow. I’ve experienced new life and the sting of death. I know more is to come, but this post is about seeing how I’ve changed in practical and visible ways.

7 years ago, if the weatherman reported a forecast of a blizzard, I would smile and think, “Yes! Good napping weather, hot chocolate, pajama days.” Now I worry about my friends who live on the street and hope they find shelter with warmth and welcome.

7 years ago, I threw away food when it hit its expiration date. (Like it magically goes bad at midnight on that day??) Now, I am choosy about the food I get rid of and I not only share with friends in need, I feed my family on America’s leftovers. I use lots of coupons, shop at bakery outlets, and frequent a food bank.

7 years ago, I thought homeless people were middle-aged men with missing teeth, holding brown bags wrapped around a bottle. Now I know they are just like me. They have family and friends, problems and stress, and cover all ages from birth to 100 years old. They are someone’s daughter, son, father, or mother. Like me, they have a story to tell and need someone to listen and care.

7 years ago, I relied on a steady paycheck with insurance for my kids and money to pay for swimming lessons. Now I rely on God moving in people’s hearts and donations to our ministry so we can pay our bills, feed our family, and share what we have with our street friends. There is no money for lessons or insurance.

7 years ago, I was nervous pulling up to a stop light if there was a person there holding a sign asking for money, food, or work. Now stop lights are opportunities for me to chat, ask a name, and offer bottled water, new socks, and snacks to the person with the sign.

7 years ago, I hoped for miracles of healing. Now I manifest them.

7 years ago, I stepped out of the church (full-time ministry) and into the world. Now I step out of the world (full-time ministry) to speak at churches.

7 years ago, I was pretty self-centered and loved people like me. Now I’m less so and love people whom I have little in common with, and I’ve been surprised by who those people are. They’re not who you might think.

7 years ago, I thought my faith was real. Now I know it is.

I’ve come a long way and I’m looking more and more like the me I am made to be.

What about you? How have you changed in the last 7 years?

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What Love Really Means

Posted in Growing Faith, Music, October Challenge on October 6, 2011| 2 Comments »

I can’t remember where I got the CD. I think it was one of those $5 items Family Christian Stores sets out by their registers, but I’m hardly ever in there, so I can’t be sure. Regardless, it became my summer go-to CD, lifting me up when I felt crappy, helping me release pent-up tears, and most importantly, reminding me that I’m loved (always) and I’m not alone (ever).

I have a feeling that JJ Heller is a kindred spirit, and her music speaks to me. One song in particular became my summer anthem as I ministered with and trained the teens and sponsors who came on SABBATH, our summer program for SEVENS. I can’t think of a single person that this song isn’t relevant to. We all long to be loved without condition and we’ve all felt despair and cried out for something or someone. Even those who don’t believe in God find themselves in this pit and cry out for love and rescue. May they all find what they’re looking for and so much more. Here are the lyrics and the YouTube video.

What Love Really Means

By JJ and Dave Heller

He cries in the corner where nobody sees
He’s the kid with the story no one would believe
He prays every night “Dear God won’t you please…
Could you send someone here who will love me?”

*Who will love me for me
Not for what I have done or what I will become
Who will love me for me
‘Cause nobody has shown me what love
What love really means, what love really means

Her office is shrinking a little each day
She’s the woman whose husband has run away
She’ll go to the gym after working today
Maybe if she was thinner then he would’ve stayed
And she says…

*Chorus

He’s waiting to die as he sits all alone
He’s a man in a cell who regrets what he’s done
He utters a cry from the depths of his soul
“Oh Lord, forgive me, I want to go home”
Then he heard a voice somewhere deep inside
And it said, “I know you’ve murdered and I know you’ve lied
And I’ve watched you suffer all of your life
And now that you’ll listen I’ll, I’ll tell you that I…”

I will love you for you
Not for what you have done or what you will become
I will love you for you
I will give you the love, the love that you never knew

THAT is how I want to love people. JUST like that.

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