If There Is A God, Where Is He?

This post is part of conversation. I decided to include an edited version of that exchange to give some context for what will follow.

Anonymous: If there is a God, where is he? I want to believe. But it’s been 2000 years since God even made his alleged appearance. I mean, if he cares, where is he?
Me: I am getting ready to walk out the door, but I need to come back to this. I so hear you! I was asking the same thing not too long ago. 
Anonymous: I am glad to hear that you at one time felt the same way. Because it gives me hope. 

The easiest and probably smartest thing for me to do would be to stick to all the pretty church answers on this one. You know a few historical facts, a couple of clichés, and an encouragement to “just keep believing.” But let’s be honest, those things are often more of frustration than help. And to be even more honest, I really don’t know what else I have to offer other than to say you are not alone.

I had to smile when I read that your last message. The idea that knowing that about me gives any hope is one of the more amusing things I have ever encountered. I guess it is because you are on the outside looking in, and I am on the inside looking out. I actually had to step outside myself for a bit and try to imagine what I must look like to someone else. I know I am busy with the Scandalous stuff, I do posts here, and I talk a lot about God and what I think about him. I suppose that has to look like some pretty massive faith, but don’t let me fool you. Faith is tricky thing to find and to hold onto, and I don’t think the battle to keep our faith is ever really over – or if it is then I haven’t reached that place.

The first time I lost my faith was right after my divorce. I had prayed so hard for God to save my marriage, to help me be a better wife, or to fix my husband. When God didn’t answer any of those prayers, I prayed that one of us would die. I had bought into the lie that divorce was never an option, and I believed that I had stay in my abusive marriage if I was to be a good Christian girl. When that didn’t happen, and I knew that I had to leave, I believed that God had failed.

There were only two reasons, in my mind, why God would fail to fix my marriage:

1. He was not strong enough to do so.
2. He did not care enough to do so.

Now, if God was not strong enough to save my marriage then, obviously, he wasn’t worthy of being called God. And if he didn’t care enough to save my marriage then why should I care about him?

Over the next four years I would fought to rebuild my faith – not that I realized that was what I was doing. I just thought I was screaming my anger at the heavens with some sort of twisted death wish. I was so hurt and angry that I often didn’t have the words to express what I was feeling, so sometimes I just screamed. There was part of me that even hoped that I would make God mad, mad enough to take me out with bolt of lightning as punishment for my blasphemies and curses, because even his anger would have been better than being abandoned.

Now I know that there was a part of me that never stopped believing that God was real, but it was that part of me that made me so mad. If I truly believed that he was did not exist then my anger would have been foolish. It would have been pointless, and probably a good indicator that I really had lost my mind, because really? Who gets that furious with their imaginary friend?

And that was the first step to realizing that I still believed, that my faith wasn’t entirely lost. I knew he was there, my hurt, frustration, and anger with him was my first shred of evidence that he was real. Sure, I couldn’t see or touch him. I couldn’t hear his voice or introduce him to my friends. I just knew that somewhere in my rage there was someone to rage at.

Perhaps the biggest revelation in all of this was that for the first time I was taking God seriously. I mean really seriously. I wasn’t playing pretty church games with him or trying to buy him off with good Christian girl behavior. I was letting him see me – the real me. The me who was broken, bloody, and pissed off. The me I don’t show in public. The me I keep locked up and hidden away from the world lest someone decided that hauling me off in one of those fancy white jackets that tie in back needs to be done for my own good. The me that I only let to play when I am with people I trust. And I have to tell you, that me ain’t pretty or polite. Not many people can handle her.

But God did. He just waited for me to cool off, settle down, for the sting to leave some of the wounds. He didn’t run away or try to rush me through what I now know was a grief over so many failed dreams. He didn’t interrupt my ravings or tell me that I was being irrational. He just waited.
For four long years, he waited knowing that the only interaction I was willing to have with him was to dish out some more abuse in his direction.

Then one day when I was ready, he showed up – no, wait, that is wrong. He showed me how he had always been there. I just wasn’t ready to see him until that moment.

Sometimes the hardest part of faith is being okay with the fact that God is sovereign. It means that he gets to set the terms and limitations of everything, even when and how he is going to reveal himself in our lives. Of course, his timing is never what we would demand and how he chooses to appear in our lives is seldom what we think we want. The thing is that no matter when or how he decides to play out that moment, you will know that it could not have happened one second sooner and his way was so much better than you could have imagined.

I don’t have any formulas for how to make God appear, not even for myself. All I know is that if we keep chasing him, he will be found. It might take a while, and I pray that for you it won’t be four years, but if it is I promise you it is worth it. That is the only hope I have to offer, but if you could see it from the inside out like I do you would know that is one of the greatest hopes we can ever offer another.

Everything Happens For A Reason - An Emily Rant

Ya’ll need to hold on to your hats and buckle up for this one. I have had it, and I am gearing up to sound harsh, judgmental, and downright mean, but you know what? I don’t give a flying rip.

Yesterday, I sat with a woman in tears. And if you know me, you know I would just assume you pull my fingernails out rather than try to comfort someone sobbing their eyes out about how their life is falling apart, but I did because while I can be rather cold hearted at times, I thought it was the right thing to do. I let her go until she calmed down, and then she said something to me that made me want to slap her – “I have been doing everything right and following all the things that God has told me to do, and not breaking any of the rules he has laid out for my life. I just want to know when is it going to be my turn to get blessed?”

Seriously? Sister, I know your life, and I can tell you that first sentence is a flat out lie. I don’t know if it is one you bought into, one you manufactured in that little messed up mind, or if you really believe that you are without sin, but, sweetie, honey, you have not been doing what God told you to do, and you are definitely not doing everything right.

Now, let me just clarify that I do NOT believe that doing everything right is a prerequisite for receiving God’s blessing. That’s just bad theology. The truth is God gives us way more than anyone of us deserves.

Somebody is whining, “What about the starving children in Africa? Did they deserve that?” Come on, let’s get real for a second. Number one that is stupid cop out when I just watched you have a meltdown over the fact your cable is getting cut off. You don’t give a rip about the starving kids in Africa or you would send that $50+ a month to making sure that at least a few of them got fed. You start doing that and we will talk about the kids in Africa. Until then stop using them as some great gift from the cosmos to avoid my second point.

Which is – God is holy. Let me unpack that for you, it means that he is so much greater and more than you and I will comprehend. He set apart, wholly other, and apart from his decision to love us has no cause to become entangled in this mess of a world that we inhabit. He only does so because for some inexplicable reason he has decided he desires to know and be known by us. Any revelation of himself that may be deign to give us should bring us to our knees in awe, but we are such self-centered buffoons that we think we are doing him some sort of favor by reposting Bible verses on Facebook.

But back to my friend and her little problem, or should I say friends and their little problems?

The truth is a whole lot of you are buying into the same damn lie that you are a good person who deserves better than life doled out to you. That just because you haven’t murdered someone God should be scraping and bowing to you for such restraint, but the all the while you are doing what you please, when you please with the rest of your life.

Oh, sure you will send me a message lamenting the fact that your husband is a douche bag, but neglect to tell me you have been slipping around with a guy on the side. You will tell me how awful it is you don’t have money to feed your kids or your dog, but I can see that bag of weed in your car. You will tell me how everyone is so mean to you, but you can’t be bothered to show the slightest courtesy to anyone you don’t think has the means to help you. You will bemoan the fallen state of this world, but when is the last time you fed or found shoes for someone in dire need of both or either?

You see, I am running out of patience and mercy for each and every one of you claiming to be a Christian but only act as if it is some type of game token you get to trade in for stuffed bunny. I am fed up with all of you who want to act as if you are the victim of some grand and cosmic plot to ruin your life just because you didn’t get the lollipop or the gold star.

Life is hard, and a life of faith is harder. It demands things of you that will make you uncomfortable, that  will make you hurt, and will make you bleed. The life of faith is a life of sacrifice, and I am not talking about throwing an extra twenty in the offering plate. Big whoop! Do you thing that God needs your money? Do think he will be bribed or bought off? Exactly how small is your god anyways?

No, the God of the Bible demands more. He demands you, all of you. That includes your time, your energy, your money, and yes, even your sexuality. He wants it all, and he has laid out some very simple rules about how you give it to him. Rules that you don’t get to rewrite or ignore because they are inconvenient or uncomfortable. Rules that you don’t get to wave away or water down when they get in the way of your supposed happiness. Rules that were put in place to make sure that nothing gets between you and the God who should be the most important thing in your life.

Am I saying that following the rules gets you salvation? No, I am not. I am saying that when you truly get it through your thick head and hardened heart that God loves you, and I mean stupid passionately loves you, you want to return that love. You want to do the things that please him, and you will ruthlessly rip out everything in your life that stands between you and him. You fight anyone and anything that threatens to intrude upon that relationship, and you will not be content with giving him anything less than your everything because you realize that he is your everything.

So that internet flirtation? It has got to stop. The extra pens from the office that fall into your purse? Need to stop coming home with you. Cussing the slow driver in front of you? Not an option. The addiction that controls your life? Suck it up, and get the help you need to get over it. The guy or gal that you keep tripping over on your way out of a bed you should have never been in?  Who said our faith didn’t require human sacrifice? Time to give them up too.

Look, the point is that it doesn’t matter what it is that you think it is your right to have or what you deserve. I can guarantee you aren’t getting either one right now. And the only reason you aren’t is that in God’s infinite mercy he has decided to give you a little more time and space to get with the program. For some of us, he’s turning up the heat. He’s letting us bear the consequences of our bad decisions, and he is letting us reap the harvest of the lies we sowed. He is not doing it because he is cruel or unfair. He is doing it because he loves us, and he wants us to see how our actions have not been honoring either to him or to ourselves. He is helping us understand that everything he requires of us is for our good, not his because he is already good. And oh yeah, changing course can hurt and if usually comes at a pretty high cost to our pride and comfort, but God was never a fan of pride and the peace he offers is makes comfort look like worn out blanket left on the side of the road.

And hey, if you want all this stuff you think you deserve, go on and get it. He will let you have it, but stop whining when he doesn’t miraculously show up to make things easy on you. For while God’s love is unconditional, expressions of that love are not. And demanding that he bless you while you wallow in your sin is like demanding your spouse be faithful while you act like the town bicycle. So you choose, but think about the decision you are making and have enough backbone to be honest about what you are choosing.

Divorce: The Great Church Idol - An Emily Rant

It happened again today. I answered the phone to hear another woman crying. We had a fight. He left. I don’t know what to do. Should I stay? Should I go? Am I honoring my wedding vows by remaining? Am I enabling his behavior by not leaving? I am trying, should I try harder? He’s great guy. He has so much potential. Life is stressful, chaotic, and he would never behave this way if things just weren’t so hard right now. Money is tight, the job is hell, and we just haven’t been able to have sex as often as we did before we had the kids. I know this is weighing on him, but I don’t know how long I can keep being the strong one. I am trying to be supportive, but I am at the end of my rope too. I told him that but he won’t hear me, he won’t listen, and I am afraid I am being too demanding. I hate telling you this, I don’t want to make him look bad, and I feel like I am failing at my marriage.

The conversation is always the same, and when I tell people this the assumption is always the same – this must not be a strong Christian woman, this has to be non-believer, or someone new to the faith. Good Christian girls don’t end up in these situations, and if they do, then they pray through, fight for their marriage, and will be rewarded with a miracle.

To all of you who think this way, I want to say one thing – YOU ARE PART OF THE PROBLEM.

Now, don’t go acting all sanctimonious on me. I know that this is not what you are wanting to hear, but it is time you get a clue. So just consider me your very own little clue dispenser. Glad to be at your service.

But, Emily, I support the sanctity of marriage. Divorce is a horrible, evil blight upon our society - *cue the rattling off of statistical data and appropriate Bible verses.*

Please, don’t bore me. I have heard it all before, and so has everyone else. So instead of repeating a bunch of regurgitated, one sided, short sighted, and Biblically inaccurate bull crap, let’s have a new conversation. Let’s talk about the women who have died, the kids who grew up in toxic homes, and all the wife-zombies out there. What? Never heard of a wife-zombie?

A wife-zombie is that woman in your church who can parrot all the proper Christian jargon about what it means to be a good Christian, how to run a good Christian home, and the grand prescriptions about how to be a good Christian wife. She smiles at all the right times, has a gentle word of encouragement, and is clinging to her faith through sheer grit. She knows all the *right* answers, but the truth is she doesn’t feel like any of them have ever paid off for her. She has been working the formula for years, but her husband has been slowly sucking the life from her one day at a time for years. She has all the latest Christian self-help books, attended every seminar, renounced all the wrong things, and prayed all the right ones.

For her there is only one path to relief – that someone dies. And knowing that does not make her life any easier because now she had to carry around the guilt of wishing her husband would be hit by a semi-truck or concealing suicidal tendencies that terrify her for the sake of the kids.

But, Emily, that’s not my fault! She just needs to have more faith!

Really? Listen to yourself for one freaking second. She needs to have more faith that God is going to force her husband to do all the things that this man has actively resisted for years? She needs to have more faith that God is going to zap this man’s freewill from existence? She needs to have more faith that another human being can be manipulated into submission through the proper application of prayers and Scriptural proclamations? Are we talking about Christianity or voodoo here?

Look, I do believe in the miraculous. I do believe that prayers have power to change the world, and I do believe that with God there is no such thing as a hopeless situation. But I also believe that humanity has been given an incredible and costly gift, we call it freewill. We get to choose, good or bad. We get to choose and being a Christian does not give you the right or ability to override anyone else’s choice. And as much as we may hate it, that means even an abuser gets to choose, and no person on the face of this earth gets to take that choice away from them.

And this is why you are part of the problem, your pious rules about how a good Christian wife should behave has robbed women of the very tools they need to protect themselves against an abuser’s choice and to seek the help she may need in order to get help both for herself and the man she loves. Women will go to great lengths to hide their husband’s flaws from the world. We call it honoring our husbands as we cover up and deny the damage he is doing. We think that we are being faithful and strong bearing the burden by ourselves. We excuse and deny that there is a problem so that they will not be shamed before the world and our church friends. We know that in the end we will be blamed for the choices our husbands make and will judged without mercy.

Everything from how we cleaned house, disciplined the kids, dressed, did our hair, and had sex will be held up for public scrutiny and ridicule. We will be given all sorts of great sounding but ineffective advice while the abuser is shielded from the consequences of his actions. Bible verses will be ripped out of context and used as battering rams against our already bleeding hearts, and everyone will get to feel so smugly superior to the broken and bruised. And we endure it all because we had too much faith in the power of church formulas to stop the abuse.

But, Emily, abuse is wrong! We don’t condone that!

Yes, yes, you do. You do it when you tell her that she should not set boundaries or limits on his spending, on the amount of time he spends in front of a computer, or the time he spends with his friends instead of his family. You do it every time you tell her that she needs to respond to his anger with love and kindness, instead of refusing to be an emotional or physical punching bag. You do it when you remind her that he is a weak and flawed human being who needs her love and support more than she needs to a partner to stand by her side. You do it when you try to silence her when she asks for help. You do it when you condemn her for leaving when her words were not enough to gain his attention. You do when you excuse his laziness, his inability or unwillingness to take responsibility for his actions, and the unhealthy ways he tries to meet his sexual needs. You do it when your only word of advice is submit.

Am I saying that Christian wives should not submit? No, I am not. In a healthy relationship where men are following their part of that command to love their wives as Christ loves the church, submission is easy – a joy even. Sure, there are individual and specific circumstance where our obedience to God’s Word might be tested, but when we know that our husbands are truly seeking the best for us and our families we can submit without fear of being used or intentionally hurt. In these marriages, submission leads to freedom because the two of you will be working to mutually empower the other to become better people.

And while we are on the subject, let me just say that overall the church has been teaching this whole concept wrong. We focus on the death while completely overlooking a far more important factor – yes, Christ died for his bride, but before he died for her he lived for her. He endured all the hardship that this earthly existence had to dish out and he remained kind, loving, and dedicated to demonstrating what love looks like even when it hurts. This is the example that men need to be following, because let’s face it. Stepping in front of a bus is far easier than getting on one so you can go to a job you hate everyday so that your family can enjoy the little luxuries like food and a roof over their heads. And if you or your husband isn’t working to provide for his family, physically, emotionally, and spiritually, the Bible says he is worse than an unbeliever. Also, if he is strutting around calling himself a Christian while failing to provide, he is a liar, thief, and manipulator who is deserving of the correction and discipline of our community of faith. So any woman who calls out her husband for this sin is not in rebellion, she is a faithful student of the Word.

Do you know what the punishment is for those who claim to be believers and do not live according the dictates of Scripture? They are to be cut off from fellowship – in other words, the wife has every right to pack her stuff and leave or toss his stuff out on the yard. It is her call and no one has the right to deny her that. In fact, if anyone does then they are in violation of the Word and fellowship should be denied to them if they will not receive correction. This is Scriptural and it preserves lives and marriages. It is not churchy answer formula; it is the way God declared it should work.  

Every marriage will face a rough place, a time when the worst of who we are as human beings will be on full display for our spouse. That is normal and to be expected, but if we fault women for seeking answers to address ongoing patterns then we are not being who we have been called to be as Christians. We are being cowards, failing to face the reality that we live in a fallen world, denying that we are accountable to and for each other, that we have an obligation to defend those in need, and yes, to advocate that victims of abuse leave their abuser if necessary.

And another thing. We have got to stop trying to shove all the broken bits of a marriage back together and declaring it a miracle. An apology and plea for forgiveness is not a fix, because apologizing and begging for forgiveness is something every abuser does quite well. Why do you think so many women stay so long to begin with? Because he said all the right churchy phrases, even was nice long enough to regain her trust, only to show his true colors once he felt secure enough to get away with it once again. We don’t get to act like it never happened, to sweep it under the rug, and pretend everything is alright now. True reconciliation can only occur when there has been true brokenness and repentance that can only be measured through a consistent demonstrations of a changed heart and nature.

Oh, divorce doesn’t look good. We hate it when those in fellowship with us fail in public. We take it as a direct reflection on our church bodies, but this is misplaced concern. It is a revelation of what we truly worship and esteem, and exposes that our fear of looking bad outweighs any perceived obligation we have to God and his Word. There is no excuse for it, and make no mistake, we will be held accountable for every one we have caused to stumble or endangered through our idolatry.  For idolatry is what we are practicing every time we bemoan divorces power to corrupt more then we celebrate God's power to redeem and to heal.We are creating an image of what good Christian people do, with no regard to what the Bible actually declares. It is time we wake and stop protecting images, God has never been a fan of them, and start protecting the hearts and lives of those most in need of our compassion and support. Maybe then they will cease to see the powerless and loveless image God we have presented to them and come to know their value as his creation and child - a child that he loves enough to set free.

For a look at why divorce is NOT a sin, click here:  http://misdirectedmusings.blogspot.com/2015/12/readers-question-should-i-get-divorce.html
   

The Price of Obedience

God has graciously given me a pop quiz, reminding me that what I know is of little value if I do not apply it.

I have learned so much over the years about the Bible, God, and how he interacts in this world, but there is this disconnect that happens in my life. I forget that these truths are not just some type of great spiritual abstraction. I forget that if they are to have any value they have to be lived out here and now, in this world, in this place, and before witnesses.

But even more importantly, I forget that these truths can only be witnessed if they are lived.

And who is going to live them if those of us who declare them are not willing to submit their lives to that cause?

We live in a world that has tried hijack our faith and bastardize the promises of our God. We are told that all good things come to those who serve him, those follow the rules, and have enough faith. Blessings and abundance will spring forth, we will never know suffering, pain will never touch us, respect and honor is ours for the taking.

You have heard it. I know you have. God has given you a desire and dream, and he wants nothing more than for you to have the desires he has placed in your heart. You deserve it, you are a child of the king, you will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living, and your life will be fountain of joy!

But you do know what? The world doesn’t need to see more happy people being happy. Really. We already know that the people with the great houses, fabulous cars, and dream jobs are happy. Everyone gets this formula, it is sold to us in every TV ad and magazine article out there. Follow your passion, chase your dream, get enough money, have the perfect family, and make the right friends and your life will be nothing short of fulfilling and blissful.

But what about everyone else? What about those of us with the crap jobs, dysfunctional families, living pay check to pay check, and just struggling to keep breathing under the pressures of this world? What about those of us doing everything right and our lives are imploding? What about us? Is there no joy for us? No hope? No blessings spilling from the heavens despite our best efforts? What about our broken hearts that were shattered because we dared to dream, dared to hope, and dared to love? Only to broken against the reality that we live in fallen world filled with others just as broken as we have ever been? Does God not love us? Is this the price of obedience?

Yes! A thousand times, yes!

Pain is the price of obedience. For you cannot love a broken world without being broken. You cannot have dreams shattered if you never dare to dream. You cannot hurt for the pains of another if you do not open your heart to their wounds and, in turn, to be wounded. You cannot find fulfillment if you do not first empty yourself, and you cannot be disappointed if you do not dare to hope.

And all of this will happen if you step out and seek the Father’s heart for your life. You will dream big dreams, you know great hopes, and you will love with a depth that defies human understanding. And the world will seek to destroy you for daring such great things. It will take the ones you love from you, it will shred your most precious dream, and it will shatter your hopes. And God will let it, with no apologies, he will let the world do a tap dance on the graves of all that you buried along the way.

This is the test. Can you still seek him while the fanfare plays? While your enemies rejoice over you demise? When you can’t see him past the jubilant crowds? Can you trust him when you know it wasn’t just a hope or dream that died, but a part of your heart?

It will be long, cold three days and nights. And you will grieve as you have never grieved before. But can you keep coming back? Can you return to that place where that precious part of you died? Search for evidence that all you have endured wasn’t in vain? Or will you give up? Declare that God is just as dead as the dream you mourn? Or will you come with spices and nard, honoring the fact that you were once given something so precious, refusing to be bitter at its loss?

But, Emily, someone is protesting now, God gave me these hopes and dreams! I deserve to have them! He tells me so! I have it written in his Word. 

And yes, you are so right, but where does it say that any of this comes without a cost?

Show me one Abraham who didn’t put a child on the alter, a David who wasn’t chased out of his homeland, an Elijah who didn’t dine on roadkill, a Jeremiah who wasn’t thrown in a pit, a Hosea who wasn’t married to a whore, a Mary who wasn’t accused of being a slut, a Paul who was not stoned and left for dead, or Christ who did not die on a cross. If you can, I will show you someone whose testimony of God’s grace and mercy is meaningless. I will show you someone who never knew what it was to walk in true faith, to rely fully on the provision and protection of God’s love. I will show you someone who will might pay beautiful lip service to my God but never dared to follow him into the wilds. I will show you someone’s who faith was not purified and tempered in the furnace of life.

Above all, I will show you someone who never knew the beauty and glory of resurrection, and this is the good news we are to bring to the world – our God is greater than any death we may ever experience. And what better way to declare this message than to live it? To place our lives in his hands, fully aware of what it will cost, and yet still declaring the truth of his love. A love that is not defeated in lives of chaos and disappointment, but a love the will shine forth in the resurrection and vindication of his children! This is the message of hope the world needs, and it can only be witnessed if we are willing to live it.

Who Were The Nephilim? Part 2 - Sons of God, A New Testament Perspective

This is the second part of a series on the identity of the Nephilim. If you missed the first post, you can find it here: Who Were The Nephilim? Part 1

In the last post, I discussed how in order to identify the Nephilim, we must first figure out who in the world are these mysterious folks called the “sons of God.”  I gave some examples from the Hebrew Scripture (Old Testament) that showed how the phrase “sons of God” was most typically applied to angel or supernatural beings. Now, we are going to look at the Christian Scriptures (New Testament), to see how this phrase is used there, and how it can help us understand who the “sons of God” in Genesis 6 were.

I also mentioned that the nation of Israel is often referred to as the “son of God.” Despite the fact that this reference is found in the Hebrew Scriptures, I waited to address that until now because I think there are some significant parallels in usage.

In the Christian Scriptures, we encounter this phrase in verses such as:

For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. Romans 8:14

“And in the very place where it was said to them, ‘You are not my people,’
    there they will be called ‘sons of the living God.’” Romans 9:26

…for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith. Galatians 3:26

And I think it is in total keeping with the spirit of the text include to see those passages that refer to the “children of God” as communicating the same basic intent. If we do this, then our points of reference broaden.

See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God's children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears[a] we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. 1 John 3:2

This is by no means and exhaustive list of times we find such terminology in the New Testament, but a quick internet search for these phrases in the Bible can lead you to the rest.

Now to the meat of the matter. It is blatantly obvious that these texts do not refer to angels but to humanity. In fact, they do not appear to refer to any sort of supernatural being at all…or do they?

That is going to depend on your definition of supernatural.

Notice who is being talked about in these passages. These passages do not equally apply to all of humanity, and demonstrate the distinct nature of those who have entered into a covenant relationship with God through Jesus. Those of us who have become new creations in Christ through God’s supernatural act within our lives.

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come. 1 Corinthian 5:17

In my opinion, it doesn’t get more supernatural than that.

So how does this relate to the passages where God calls the nation of Israel his son? To answer that we only have to remember one of the most famous stories of the Bible, God’s redemption of Israel from Egypt. Everything about that event was supernatural, from the ten plagues to the crossing of the Red Sea to the transformation of slaves into a nation. Each piece of the story tells how God supernaturally intervened in the lives of men and women to create for himself a nation through which the Messiah would come.

The story is not just about God rescuing those who are oppressed. It is about how he radically changes the identity and destiny of those who are his. A mere rescue mission was insufficient for his purposes. He did not want a nation of slaves. He wanted a nation of people who were empowered to live out a destiny greater than they could have envisioned for themselves, and through which he could be known.

Then Moses went up to God, and the Lord called to him from the mountain and said, “This is what you are to say to the descendants of Jacob and what you are to tell the people of Israel: ‘You yourselves have seen what I did to Egypt, and how I carried you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself. Now if you obey me fully and keep my covenant, then out of all nations you will be my treasured possession. Although the whole earth is mine, you will be for me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.’ These are the words you are to speak to the Israelites.” Exodus 19:3-6

As Christians, we share in this story of redemption and radical transformation. Therefore it is fitting that we also share in the title “sons (children) of God.”

If you are still not convinced, consider these words of Jesus,

And Jesus said to them, “The sons of this age marry and are given in marriage, but those who are considered worthy to attain to that age and to the resurrection from the dead neither marry nor are given in marriage, for they cannot die anymore, because they are equal to angels and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection. But that the dead are raised, even Moses showed, in the passage about the bush, where he calls the Lord the God of Abraham and the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob. Now he is not God of the dead, but of the living, for all live to him.” Then some of the scribes answered, “Teacher, you have spoken well.” For they no longer dared to ask him any question. Luke 20:34-40

Did you catch that? Let's repeat it, just to be sure, "because they are equal to angels and are sons of God, being sons of the resurrection." The sons of God are equal to the angels. And how does one become a son of God? Through this supernatural event called the resurrection.

Based on these passages, I can only conclude that the term "sons of God" must refer to a being that is supernatural due to their original creation or through Divine intervention and transformation. For me there is little doubt that the "sons of God" in Genesis 6 refers to supernatural beings typically referred to as angels.

Agree? Disagree? Have questions? Be sure to drop a comment below.  I am looking forward to the conversations about this fascinating subject. And stay tuned, because we still have a ways to go before we can finally answer the original question.

Next Post Here: Who Were The Nephilim? Part 3

Where Was God?

 “Prayer doesn’t do anything. Where was God when you were getting the shit beat out of you?” she sneered.

My heart broke a little bit more. It is the one question I really don’t have a good answer for. I can’t point to some supernatural intervention. I can’t claim divine deliverance. I can’t even say that I saw a glimmer of light in the dark. I just took it hoping that it would all be over soon, and at her words I felt stripped naked as if my whole life had been a sham.

For days, that question haunted me. I knew he was there. I knew that I had not endured that for nothing, and that he had not missed my suffering, but I didn’t how to convey that truth. I didn’t even want to look for a way. That chapter of my life is closed and opening it up to sift through the pieces in hopes of finding anything concrete meant opening up a lot of old wounds. I didn’t think I had the stomach for all the gore.

Over the years, I have talked a lot about my previous marriage. I have shared my story in churches, schools, and in my book. I have been commended for being “brave in my transparency” and praised for “daring to be so open about such a painful topic.” I can give you a rundown of the abuse without batting an eye. I can recount the feel of his fingers around my neck without fighting down the need to flinch. I can even tell you why the physical violence was far less traumatic than the emotional and mental abuse he doled out as he worked up his nerve to finally strike with his fist.

God and I were good. We had worked through all the heartache of those years. I had yelled and screamed at him for abandoning me, for leaving me alone, and ignoring all my cries for help. I had even taken the radical, and some claim blasphemous, step of forgiving God for all that – not that he needed it, but rather I needed to let go of my bitterness. I had to be ok with his way of doing things, and I had to take responsibility for my foolish pride and rebellion that landed me in that marriage to begin with. I don’t resent those years anymore. There is a huge part of me that still grieves and always will grieve the effect it had on my children who witnessed those events, but for myself, it is a time that has been redeemed as I have witnessed my story help so many others.

Maybe the question stung because I had gotten used to be lauded for my ability to rise above the circumstances of being an abused woman and then a single mom. And I was stunned that this scar that I had wielded like weapon for so long had now been turned against me.

So I have been thinking about the answer demanded of me, and I have been trying to find the words to express the truth that has been hidden in my heart, to quantify it in some way that would make sense to someone who is not inside my skin.

The only time my ex would lay a hand on me was if I was holding one of our children. He never attacked unless my daughters were in my arms. The first time, I was holding my oldest daughter as he grabbed me from behind putting me in a choke hold and shaking me like a rag doll. She was only two weeks old. All I could think in that moment was, “Don’t drop the baby.” So I didn’t. I held her tighter against me with one arm and with the other I gripped his arm taking the pressure off my neck. The last time he lunged at me as I was putting nightgowns on the girls, and he sat on my chest screaming as he tried to strangle the life out of me.

He might have succeeded. I wasn’t scared, and I didn’t fight. As the waves of blackness washed over me, I was tempted to let them sweep me away, but then one of the girls made a sound that caused me to look over at them. They were small and scared of what was happening, and all I could think was how if he killed me, he was the only parent they had left. So I fought back. I got free, and I got him out of my home and my life.

Where was God in those moments? He was holding my arms around my baby so I didn’t drop her. He was showing me why I had to fight to get free. He gave the courage to do the scariest thing I ever did. He gave me the strength to endure the years of being alone and trying to keep it together for the ones who counted on me. I screwed up so many times, and I made more mistakes than I can even remember. There were days when I was certain that they would be better without me, but every time that those dark waves of oblivion seemed more enticing than returning to the battle, he was there reminding me that love does not give up, that love does not get to indulge in that depth of selfishness.

Were there any burning bushes? No. Clouds parting, voices from the sky? No. Just my kids. Just the ones who had been entrusted to me, and the ones who relied on me to keep fighting. This is probably not the answer that anyone is hoping for. We all want the presence of God to be some over the top display and then are angered when he doesn’t reveal himself that way. We think we deserve a fairy tale, for him to make everything perfect and easy when he is near, but that’s not how he works, that’s not how faith is built.

And what good is prayer? It changed me. It is still changing me. I am learning to be okay with how he doesn’t split the skies open because I think I deserve that type of affirmation. He is showing me how to see him small moments, and to how to feel is presence in the chaos. He is teaching me how to become more like him – love more like him both in the times I rage before him in my frustration and in those moments I quiet my heart to listen and to know him. Prayer is where I learn, where I see the connections, and find the answers to the hard questions of life, as I allow him to change me. For never in a million years would I have understood his the depths of his love if he had not connected the dots for me, and showed me that if I as a mere human can rise from edges of death motivated by nothing more than the love of my children, then how much more does the one who rose from the depths of the grave love me? Does he love you?

It's Love. It's What I Do

This year has been a doozie. If one thing isn’t falling apart, another thing is exploding. Things, plans, people, and ideas going up in great big giant flaming balls of stupidity and lack. Most of the time I can just roll with the punches, walk it off, and move on to the next minor emergency, but lately that hasn’t been so easy to do.

The stuff breaking down is one thing. Fix the tractor, replace the air conditioner, and buy a new phone. It’s life. It’s what you do. Plans falling apart and dreams not coming true that hurts, but you get up and make a new plan, dream a new dream. It’s life. It’s what you do.

But the people, oh the people, that one is rough.

If you know me, you know that I am pretty good at separating you from me, my life from yours, and the things you chose from the things I want. It’s life. It’s what you do. But then there are people that you love, that you let in so deep that there is no separation. Their life is your life, and the things they chose are things that are now a part of your world, for better or worse. And when you watch the fuse to their life ignite, all you can do is duck and cover because you know this is going to hurt.

The temptation in these moments is to cut ties, to run away, and deny them the right to be a part of your world at such a deep level. God knows it would be easier. And I honestly find more than a morsel of comfort in the fact that even he felt this way.

If you don’t remember the story, it goes something like this –

God had just demonstrated his undivided love and devotion to the Children of Israel. He does amazing and wondrous things to secure their freedom when they turn into snot nosed little brats. Here he’s rained terror and destruction down on the Egyptian nation that had dared to abuse those he loved, and they are dying to go back to their abusers. And on the particularly rough days, I find his solution rather appealing:

“I have seen this people, and behold, it is a stiff necked people. Now therefore let me alone, that my wrath may burn hot against them and I may consume them, in order that I make a great nation of you.” Exodus 32: 9, 10

Obviously, God did not carry through with this threat, but the point is this is his emotional response the situation. It is him being so honest about the feeling he has that it is shocking!

I think that so often in the Christian community we are told that if we really love someone you will never feel anger over their actions. We are told to forgive and forget, deny those oh-so-human emotions, and recognize that you have not say in the lives of others. Anger, we are told, is selfish and shows our need to control, but I don’t think that’s always the case.

Maybe my interpretation of this event is skewed, but I don’t think that God was angry just because people dared to worship another god. (In fact, that wasn’t what was going on at all. Check this out to see the story behind the story.) He’s not that selfish. I think his anger was the result of watching these people do something that he knew would hurt them. He knew the consequences of their actions far better than they did, they had been warned, and given the tools to make wise decisions. And instead of heeding his words, they acted out of their own wisdom and based their actions on the fear in their hearts.

Okay, so we aren’t God. I get that. I know that he has rights and privileges that are way beyond our paygrade, but I think there is something to be learned here – actually, there are a lot of somethings to be learned here, but let’s just focus on one.

God was angry because he loved those snot nosed brats, they were his snot nosed brats, and he was not going to let anyone needlessly hurt them – including themselves. His anger was proof of a love that can only be kindled by those you are passionate for, a love that demands the best for those we call our own, and a love that refuses to allow anyone to be less than who he created them to be.

Yet, even in this, he did not act in anger. He acknowledged his pain and frustration. He had a conversation with someone who also had a vested interest in the wellbeing of these people. He allowed them to receive the consequences of their actions, he continued to speak truth over them, setting boundaries and refusing to be okay with their self-destructive ways, and then when they came to their senses, he renewed his promise to be there by their side through the battles that lay ahead.

I wonder how many of us need a friend who will not let anyone hurt us – including ourselves? How many of us can use a friend who will become enraged at our own self-destructive tendencies and will go toe-to-toe with us when we go full blown idiot in our lives?

And I wonder how many times the person who almost stepped up was told that they had no right to be angry? No right to have a say in the lives of those they love? How often have people been told that this type of passion for another is a sin? So they step back, cut ties, and remove themselves from a relationship that is too painful to bear in silence and believing that to speak up would be improper and unloving by the standards of so many.

I don’t want to be that friend. I want to be the one who makes you mad occasionally, who sets you off for calling it like it is, and hurts your feelings with honesty. I may yell. I may scream. I may call your mama, daddy, or the cops if that is what it takes to keep you safe, but I never want to be the friend who was more concerned with being polite than I was in protecting your heart. So if you were on the receiving end of my harsh words over the past few months, know that this – It’s is love. It’s what I do.

Time Travel and Eternity

Time travel, the almost unavoidable constant of all thing sci-fi. Whether is slingshotting around the sun, the worm hole that somehow gets diverted due to the sun’s gravitational pull, an ancient ruin that acts as a gate, or some alien technology that allows us to travel back and forth between the future and the past, the idea of time travel has fascinated us as few other concepts have. For most this is but a flight of fancy, an errant hope of somehow correcting the evils of yesterday, or the hope of knowing what tomorrow holds. It is far flung dream of what we may one day achieve as the human race, the ultimate demonstration that we have cast off the chains of this temporal existence to experience wonders that are inaccessible in our present being.

Few of us ever consider as anything more than this, but what if time travel were possible? What if time did not have the power to define our reality as we currently experience it?

And why is that we are fascinated by something that every reasonable thought rejects? Why would we devote so much time, effort, and money into creating worlds within movies, books, and TV to explore a concept that defies all known logic? It makes no sense unless…

But wait, let me back up for a second. I haven’t lost my mind, and no, I didn’t suddenly come into possession of some whacky telephone both or magic mirror. I know this sounds as if I completely lost my grip on reality, but just roll with me for second. I know that there is a part of you that is going to resist the idea on gut level. I mean, time travel, come on? We all know how impossible that is, but what if we have been looking at it wrong? What if we have been so wrapped up in our experience of reality  - the one in which time in engulfs us, where we at the mercy of ticking clocks that define our days in terms of hours, minutes and seconds? What if our experience has caused us to look at time backwards and inside out?

So gets some ideas in place. Ideas that do not rely on our perceptions of time and space, but are rooted in the revealed truth of God in Scripture.

1. God is eternal. Psalms 102: 26, 27; Romans 1:20, 1 Peter 1:24, 25
2. God knows the beginning from the end. Isaiah 46:10, 48:12; Ecclesiastes 3:11; Revelation 22: 13
3. God’s experience of time differs from ours. 2 Peter 3:8
4. Time was created by God. Psalms 90, Colossians 1:16, 1 Timothy 4:4, Revelation 4:11

Now all of this has led to some very sticky theological questions: Does God exist outside of time? Within time? Is he eternally present? Just how much did Augustine borrow from Plato? I want you to watch this next move very closely, as I dodge all of them. Why? Because, I really don’t care and it’s not part of this discussion of time travel. The point is that time is God’s. He gets to decide how he experiences it and inhabits it. And I am ok with that, and if even if I weren’t it make a rat’s whisker’s bit of difference to him. One of the perks of being sovereign is you get to have your way every day. This is also where I resist explaining how a lot of you need to accept that little fact, and live your lives accordingly.

But moving on –

Let’s go back to that “unless” I left dangling up there.

It makes no sense unless…we were designed for eternity. For many of us eternity has been flattened into a timeline, two points eternally retreating from each other to the distant edges of our imaginations, but eternity is more than a line. It expands in all directions, more of an endless web rather than a line, encompassing all things past, present, and possible. And we crave it in depth of our being, to the point that we fantasize about being able to transcend the bounds of this time and move freely within the totality of its space. Our collective obsession demonstrates that truth Ecclesiastes 3:11 which tells us that God has placed eternity in the hearts of man.

And if this is a fundamental craving of humanity, how then do we fulfill that hunger that God has given us? I think the answer is simple – to draw near to the one who is eternal.

A plan as simple as the words of Psalm 145 which tells us that God draws near all who call on him. Or James 4:8 that tells us that if we draw near to God he will draw near to us. And Psalm 65:4 that declares that blessed is the one that God brings near to dwell in his courts, and how do we come into his courts? With praise! Psalm 100. I could go on, but I think you should be getting the idea. Praise is a key to being in the presence of the Eternal God.

Something happens when we start to praise, when we proclaim who he is, and let that reality flood our soul. Time and all that it contains is no longer what defines us or the realm we inhabit. We confronted by the God who is both Ancient of Days and the Lord of What Shall Be. We recognize that time does not hold our God captive, nor is his reality engulfed in time's dictates. Time, that cruel dictator of our lives, bows before our God and proceeds at his bidding and good pleasure. The ticking clock, the changing season, and passing moments become nothing more than tools that he picks up and lays aside as it suits him. That alone should stir our hearts to praise!

And when we praise him, we join our voices with those who have sang his praise since the dawn of time, and our songs will echo in the ears of those who follow. For his praises endure forever, as we are told in Psalms 111:10, and by choosing to praise him we are stepping into the realm of the eternal to experience something far greater than the here and now. To live beyond this tangible moment, to proclaim the events of history as a demonstration of his power for this age, and to proclaim his eternal reign not as some distant future event, but the defining element of our lives today. To lay hold of it all - past, present, and future - as our defining reality and reason to life our voice to him.

So perhaps we are not time travelers, not in the sense that we move through time, but rather that in those moments of praise time moves through us. The past, present, and future aligning in one splendid truth, our God is the God of all time and his steadfast endures forever. Love given since before the thought of creation and will endure past the edges of time, love that we chose to embrace today, so that we might know the God of Eternity in this moment.

Reader’s Question: Why do you believe in a spiritual realm?

Reader’s Question: Why do you believe in a spiritual realm? Hasn’t science proven that all the stuff that they thought were demons and spirits are really diseases or mental disorders? Aren’t you just being superstitious?

This is one of those questions where I have to ask myself, where do I begin? The second question I ask myself, is there anything I can say that would truly convince anyone that my answer is right and true? The honest answer is probably not. And third question I ask myself, how crazy do you want to look when you reply – particularly since you know that your answer probably doesn’t matter?

Well, I have never done anything half way in my entire life (with the exception of keeping house). So I may as well keep up the tradition.

If I wanted to play it safe, I would give you a list of Bible verses that confirm the existence of a spiritual realm, but as the person who asked this does not view the Bible as an authoritative source that is rather pointless. And to be entirely honest, it was not the Bible that convinced me to believe in a spiritual realm. It was only after a number of experiences that I realized that this was a reality that I could not escape, and I learned how to cope with my experiences through the teachings of the Bible.

So instead of offering up that list, allow me to answer with a story.

A few weeks ago a friend of mine decided to help a homeless man. She invited him into her house, fed him, gave him a few useful things, and then at his request brought him to the park where my husband and I are hosts. Camping is free here, and she knew that we would offer any help that we could.

After his first night here, he came up to our camper, knocked on our door, and asked if I would give him a cup of coffee. If you know me, then you already know that coffee is never in short supply. So I invited him, poured him a cup, and listened to his story. Which if you know me, you will also know that one of my favorite things in this world is learning other people’s stories.

He told me about his divorce, how he had lost everything, and how afterwards he just started walking. He caught a Grey Hound in Virginia, rode into Texarkana, and from there started his journey on foot once more. He explained how he was looking for some place quiet, and how he needed to clear his head of all the noises.

So I asked him, “What type of noises are rumbling about in your head?”

He studied his cup for a long time before answering. “I hear voices, all the time voices, telling me what to do. I get a government check for being schizophrenic. Does that scare you?”

I reassured him that it didn’t, and explained that I was bipolar so he was in good company. He laughed a little, but started studying his cup once more, in a way that told me that he wanted to say more but was unsure of how to begin. I waited in silence, giving him a chance to collect his thoughts and gather his courage.

“Your friend said you know a lot about the Bible and stuff,” he finally said. “Do you know about Ra and Nun?”

If I was interested in the man before, he had my full attention now. Just the day before, I had been studying these ancient Egyptian gods. I told him I knew a little, and then asked him what he wanted to know, and why he was asking.

“I hear them,” he told me. “I don’t know who they are or why they are talking to me, but they I know their names because they argue in my head, telling me to do bad things, like kill animals and such. They sent me here. Are they in the Bible? They sound like they could be in the Bible.”

I explained to him that they were not in the Bible, at least not directly mentioned in the Bible. I told him how they were worshipped in ancient Egypt, and how they were gods – one a sun god and one the god of chaos. I told him that believed they were connected to the Nephilim and Sons of God mentioned in Genesis 6, and I how they masqueraded as gods in an effort to fool the people into worshipping them instead of the true God.

As I was speaking, he began to get agitated. His entire manner changed, and he cut me off. He began telling me how he wanted to kill something, a bird, a squirrel, or anything he could overpower.

Abruptly, his mannerism changed again, and he began asking me if I believed that there were spirits who could give us higher knowledge and power.

I told him that there is only one true source of power and knowledge, the God of the Bible, God incarnate in the person of Jesus, and how it was through his blood that we can come to know God’s love and mercy for us. He slammed the coffee cup down on the table and walked out the door. I followed him, and by the time we were outside, he had calmed down again.

“I wish I had more time to study the Bible,” he said not looking at me. “Do you have one I can have?”

I assured him that I would get him one and bring it to him later. He returned to his campsite, and I called Ty and asked him to pick up a Bible on his way home. Later that day, I took the Bible and some food to the spot by the lake where he was set up. He accepted it all less than enthusiastically and began to talk about killing again. As I listened, I studied his campsite and saw that he had cooked various plants over the fires in empty cans, he had more plants drying on the table, and I asked him what that was about. He said he was doing some experiments that voices had told him to do. I didn’t press any further.

As I was leaving, he asked me if I would give him my dog. I smiled and told him, “Hell, no.” He shrugged and pushed the Bible to the far side of the table away from him.

The next day he left. He told me it was too quiet that he couldn’t stay here because the voices got too loud here. He needed to go someplace he felt more comfortable and familiar with, and he walked out of the park.

On the surface, this seems like a random encounter with a mentally ill man, and I am in no way discounting that he had a very real medical condition. Nor am I belittling him for it. After all, I have one too. However, there are two things that make me believe this was a spiritually motivated encounter.

First of all, this is just one of many events that has happened since I started writing my latest book. The list of coincidences could easily be the basis for another book entirely, but I don’t believe in coincidence. I believe that everything has a reason and a purpose. The fact that just the day before I had been researching the very gods he named, supposedly gods that he knew nothing about, confirms to me that this encounter was not accidental. Additionally, many of these encounters seemed to have been engineered to engender one response within me – fear.

Secondly, this was not the first stranger to knock on my door since I began writing this book. The first man approached asking me if my bus was for sale. When I told him no, he walked off muttering some sort of sing-song chant. I watched him as he snuck through the woods to get a better look at the bus, and called the sheriff. When the deputy sheriff picked him, he told me that the man kept muttering that he had to “stop the gypsy.” In case you didn’t know, everyone calls my bus the Gypsy Bus.

Ty and I have been here for over a year and both of these occurrences happened within weeks of each other. Never before have any of the campers here so much as given me a creepy vibe. Most of the folks are good people just looking for some time on the lake to fish, and they have been encouraging supportive of the work we are doing here. Yet, within a matter of weeks, we have two men here whose presence was disconcerting and concerning. And why did they appear at these times? It was when I started the book that led me to research Ra, Nun, and a whole host of other ancient gods and their myths.

I no way expect anyone to believe in a spiritual realm because I had these experiences. With enough effort, anyone could reason them away into nothing more than random events. I realize that and accept it, but I cannot dismiss the sheer number of things that have occurred in my world since the inception of this book. These are but a part of a larger story that stands as but a chapter in my own life. To me it is a manifestation of the activities of the spiritual realm, but you alone can determine what it means to you.

Of Prophets - We will worry about the kings later

Last night, I did something new. I watched the new television series “Of Kings and Prophets” while following the buzz on Twitter. It was interesting to see people’s reactions in real time as they protested the Biblical inaccuracies, the artistic license to spice up the story line, but most of all, I was intrigued by the reactions to Samuel. To be sure the rather enigmatic and ever so slightly spooky prophet who rips the arms off of hired assassins is not completely in line with the perceptions that most modern audience have of prophets. We like to think of them as leaders, and our ideas of leaders tend to be ones of men and women who exemplify the best, the most noble, and desirable of our society.

However, our ideas about prophets and the reality as presented within the Bible do not always line up. The prophet of the Bible was not a pretty character. He was bold, raw, and often offensive. His language was not soft or genteel, but rather what most of us would consider straight up vulgar. He lived on the outskirts of society. Yes, he was often present in the courts of kings, but not as one of the fawning masses. Instead, he stood apart as someone to be feared, and sometimes that fear was not out of respect. Many times that fear was based in disdain and expressed in ridicule. These men had the power to depose kings, elevate the poorest to position of authority, and generally upend the status quo at any given moment. They dangerous not only to those in leadership but to all who desired to that standards and mores of their culture be maintained by propriety and proper observance of established convention. Thus his presence was not always welcome or celebrated.

Of all the descriptions written of the Biblical prophet, Abraham Joshua Heschel’s is by far my favorite:

“A strange, one sided, unbearable extremist…His words are shocking and often offensive to the more genteel of society. Dignity is cast aside in favor of emotion and he does not flinch from offending his audience…He lacks refinement and the passion with which he reveals God’s message seems wildly out of control to the masses but to the one inspired the means barely capture the intensity of passion.” From his book The Prophets.

 J. Lindblom describes being a prophet as a “condition”, and he supports this view by noting the taunting note in 1 Samuel 10:11:

“Is Saul among the prophets?”

Lindblom explains that question demonstrates that role and office of prophet was considered to be beneath one from a good family. No one of status would desire to become of these wild eyed individuals whose inexplicable behavior did not conform to society’s expectations. This was not position of honor as the cost was too great, causing those chosen to walk in this role to move away from societal standards and moved deeper into the truth revealed to them by God.

The level of conflict in their lives was epic. Jeremiah describes himself as “a man of strife and contention to the whole land.” (Jeremiah 15:10). Not only did he confront the king, he stood in direct conflict with the false prophets of his day – the prophets whom the people affirmed for the smooth words and happy predictions for the future of their land. He denounced the religious elite and the condemned the masses for offering God only empty forms of worship without engaging him with their hearts. His message was warning that not only would Israel as nation be subjugated to foreign powers for their disobedience, but that the symbols and means through they worshipped God would be stripped away because institutionalized observances of faith were a lie that God would no longer tolerate.

And Jeremiah was not the only one who quite literally danced with death almost every time God commanded him to speak. Nathan calls David out for committing adultery and murder, Samuel condemns Saul and declares that he will lose his throne, Moses demands that Pharaoh release his labor force, and Jesus damns the religious elites for their hypocrisy. How else would you classify such people, other than mad?

Nor were the extreme elements of their nature limited to their prophet announcements. Isaiah was commanded to preach naked for three years, Hosea was told to marry a prostitute, Ezekiel shaved his head with sword and then did various symbolic acts with the hair, and John the Baptist ate locusts and honey exemplifying the voice of one from a wilderness. It is to read these accounts and accept them as part of the Biblical narrative to which we have become accustom, but if we stop and think of what it would be like to witness these events, to actually be in the presence of the prophets as they fulfilled God’s command to live out their message, would we still be able to blithely accept them as part of God’s plan?

I do not think so. In fact, I think most of us would be even more shocked and offended than their original audiences. I think we would see their bizarre behavior as vindication of our right to deny them the authority and wisdom that God bestowed upon them. There God had command protection for those he placed in this office. God knew that everything in us would resist paying heed to one so far removed from societal and cultural norms, and we should not make the mistake of believing that the Biblical prophets were normal for their day and the only reason they seem so strange to us is due to the years that stand between us.

Nor should we be shocked that one who walks so closely with a Holy God who defies our definitions and boundaries would also be radically different than his contemporaries. For how does encounter a God whose ways are not our ways and thoughts are not our thoughts without being radically changed? We often forget that the prophet was not simply a telephone, or some other mechanical devise, to be used as tool. The prophet was flesh and blood, sensitive and response to their environment, and when environment has been infused by the very presence of God – you are never going to be normal again.

So maybe it is time we acknowledge a difficult and distasteful truth, prophets were not meant to be normal. They don’t often popularity contests, and they don’t usually don’t experience what this world defines as success except perhaps through the lens of history. They set people on edge with messages divinely designed and ordained to upset the status quo. The comfort they offer only follows obedience and repentance. They are hard individuals demanding hard things from their audience, rejecting pretty lies in favor of ugly truth so that we may find the beauty in a God who redeems. For how else could they find the strength and courage to live a life so far removed from the expected, unless they had fallen so deeply in love with the Lord that all of their being was at odds with a fallen creation? What else could cause them to give up their lives, their hopes for a future, except for a God inspired desire to see their Creator design manifest in the lives of a people they learned to love as he loved them?

And maybe, just maybe, it is time we held the self-appointed prophets of this day to the Biblical standard. Truth before comfort, radical boldness before conformity, and terrifying obedience before self-indulgent justification. For the prophets who spoke peace and prosperity were exposed as frauds as their soothing words did nothing to move the people closer to the God they claimed to serve and plunged them deeper into forms of religion without heart, conscience, or moral obligation to God or their community. Maybe it is time we stopped buying the hype, stopped worshipping at the alter of nice or proper, and recognize that God’s message to the world is greater than anything we hold dear including our dignity and worthless prestige.

Financial Sense and Bad Attitudes - A Confession

Years ago, back when I was single mom, I realized that my financial situation was always going to be one of constant jeopardy. I was raising my kids on less than $10,000 a year, the ex had (and has) forgotten that child support would be nice gesture, and let’s face it, none of my degrees lend themselves to lucrative careers. In fact, I read in one article that if you didn’t want make any money with your college degree, get degrees in the arts, psychology, and religious studies – guess what I have degrees in? The correct answer is all three! I’ve always been an overachiever like that.

Despite all this, I was pretty okay with where I was. Sure the numbers didn’t makes sense, and the fact that we never starved or lived on the streets was due in large part to my family who helped with things like childcare while I worked or went to school, an expense that devastates almost every single mom’s budget. Food was pretty much whatever the tribe was giving out in commodities, what we grew in the family garden, and ramen noodles, but overall, we were happy.

I figured out how to not dwell on our money matters, live within our budget, and to do without things we did not absolutely need. So there weren’t a lot of extras like cable TV, gaming systems, manicures, or trips to the zoo. We just made the best of what we had. It wasn’t always easy and a minor catastrophe like needing new tires or a hot water heater could set us back for months, but somehow things always worked out.

Then I got married. Now, this was a good thing, and I was delighted to have married a hard-working man who was willing to take on the financial risks and responsibilities of me and my two kids. After years of debating on whether or not new socks were really necessary or could be afforded at that particular time, it was liberating to just go to the store and buy socks whenever dang well pleased.

But something happened to me in the past five years, something I didn’t realize until recently.

Somewhere in the midst of being able to buy socks and not having to wonder if fresh oranges were an extravagance, I forgot that my security did not lie in the size of my husband’s pay check.

Now God has a way of getting your attention, and well, he’s been working overtime on me since the first of the year. Ty and I were slammed with several things that sapped our money. Some avoidable with better planning and self-discipline, and some so completely out of our control that I had to wonder if God had sadistic streak. This meant that several of our plans for things we were going to do this year had to be ditched, and I am not talking trips to Tahiti, I am talking about things most people take for granted as part of being a functioning adult in our society. (Which really shows you how much I lost sight of the goal – since when did I ever want to be a function adult?)

To make matters even more poignant, there was about a six week spell in there when I was contacted almost every day by someone celebrating a blessing in their lives. And not just any old run of the mill blessing. No, they were happy because they had received – often unexpectedly or by almost supernatural providence – things that I had specifically expressed a desire for. Seriously, if I said I wanted purple wigwaddle but had recognized it as an unnecessary expense or completely outside my budget for the foreseeable future, one of my friends would suddenly come into possession of a purple wigwaddle. And as part of being a real friend is to rejoice with those who are rejoicing, I did my best to do my part. But let me tell you, after about six weeks of this, I was starting to lose my cool. Not with my friends, they typically had no idea that they were rubbing salt wounds and would have avoided doing so if they had a clue. No, I was losing my cool with God.

After all, HE knew I wanted a wigwaddle and he could have zapped one into my front yard at any given time if he had so desired. But nooooo, he gave it to someone who has absolutely no idea how to properly appreciate a wigwaddle, let alone the proper care and grooming of one.  And as if that wasn’t enough, he was requiring that I be a good sport about it if I were to properly live out my faith. I am not going to lie this is where I demonstrated some pretty awesome acting skills, but inside I was starting to seethe.

Then along comes my child who decides to spend an evening around the fire talking about the days when we had nothing, but when our house was open to everyone, when people showed up unannounced to sit and talk. When our lives were too full to worry about money, and the amazing experiences they allowed us to know as they shared their stories, asked their questions, and wrestled through the hard issues of life on a worn out couch or by an open fire. When people we had just met showed up with bags of groceries to prepare a feast in our home as way to repay for us for the kindness of opening our home to them.

In those days, money was an issue but it was rarely a worry. I knew in my gut that we were going to be alright and nothing could touch us that didn’t pass through the Father’s hand. Times were tough, and God always likes to wait for the last minute before providing an answer, but I had figured out how to rest, to be expectant, and how to deny dread a place in my heart. Perhaps it was because I was more spiritual back then, or maybe it was the only way to survive the uncertainty without going crazy. I don’t know, but I do know that I wasn’t upset about my friends getting the things I wanted. I was genuinely happy for them and their success. Sure sometimes, I had to press through to get there, but I did it with an ease and grace I seemed to have forgotten lately.

And frankly, I don’t like that. I don’t like being a petty person who is so wrapped up in my own angst that I forgot how to rejoice with my friends. So this week I started over. That’s the beautiful thing about this faith we call Christianity, we get to do that. I talked things over with God, let him know how I was feeling, and told him I was going to need some help because some rebellious part of me likes the self-righteous anger I had been entertaining. I told him that despite that I know that is not the truest part of who I am or who I want to be, and that I was sorry for putting my wants ahead of him and what he was trying to do in my life.

I am not going to tell you that since I got my attitude right God is going to send me a $200,000 check in the mail. I mean he might, but if that was the only reason I confronted this ugly bit of me then I sorta missed the point. In fact, that type of expectation would just show that I was still hoping money was going to solve all my problems, not God. See, he’s far more creative in his solutions than any methodologies I would prescribe, and I need to be okay with that. It is part of walking in faith, and even more importantly, it is part of letting God be God without imposing my rules upon him. Because if I were real honest, I have to admit that when I let him do his thing and get out of his way, his methods blow my mind and leave me in awe. I simply do not have the depth of imagination or scope of knowledge to dream up the wondrous things he brings into being, and those are the things I truly want to experience in my life.

So until he does whatever it is he is going to do, I am going to do three things: I am going to faithful with what he has given me. I am going to see every blessing my friends experience as proof that God is still able and willing to bring good things into the lives of those who love him. And I am going to keep my heart and eyes open in expectation for the mind blowing and awe inspiring things I certain he has in store for me, my family, and my friends.

Deep Theological Ponderings Or How to Avoid Embarrassing Situations at the Coffeehouse

Recently, I wrote about the the cost of dreaming big. The response to that post was overwhelming. Friends from literally all over the world checked in on me, others wrote to tell me what a relief it was to discover that they are not alone, and a few just sat down in the ashes a lamented life with me. In the midst of all the love and support, one question kept emerging – how do you trust God when it seems like everything in this world is out to get you?

Now this is the type of question that inspires two distinct reactions:

1: Maniacal laughter that will not only get you strange looks, but asked to leave the coffee shop by some fearful eyed teenager clutching a cell phone which I am pretty sure had 911 already cued up. (If you encounter this situation, do not, I repeat, DO NOT giggle and say, “It’s alright. I just forgot to take my meds.” Just leave and save everyone some awkward moments.)

2. Deep theological ponderings.

Either reaction can occur independently, in succession, or concurrently depending on a number of factors not excluding barometric pressure and the strength of the US dollar.

And since I cannot take all of you to the coffee shop for a demonstration of the first reaction, I shall resign myself to sharing some of those deep theological ponderings. You can decide what they are worth.

Like most questions, I believe the answer is in the question, and it is quite simple. The world is out to get you.

But did you catch that? The WORLD is out to get you. Don’t get me wrong, I am not advocating paranoia or launching a counter attack. I am just stating fact as I see it, but first we have to define what do we mean by the word “world”? Obviously, I am not referring to the planet earth, and I am not talking about millions of people in China actively plotting your demise. Heck, I am not even talking about that idiot who cut you off in traffic this morning. Don’t kid yourself, he wasn’t thinking about you and he couldn’t have cared less about who you are. His concern was his life and his life alone, you just happened to be in his way.

So what do I mean by the world?

Not to get too deep, but I mean the powers that rule this world. You don’t have to go very far into the Bible to figure out that when Adam and Eve decided to have a little snack, they also relinquished dominion over this realm to the one who served up that tasty little morsel. (John 12:31, John 14:30, 2 Corinthians 4:4, Ephesians 2:2, and 1 John 5:19). And if you haven’t been paying attention to the news, it might come as a bit of a shock that people do not like outsiders living in their land. In fact, folks can get down hostile towards immigrants and foreigners particularly if they have any level of success in a region where natural born citizens are struggling to survive. So guess where that puts our popularity levels as Christians?

But there is another factor at play here, and one we tend to forget until it smacks us in the face – spiritual forces are manifest through physical beings.

Oh, sure, we get this concept when it is the guy on TV ripping into our faith, we understand it when we are attacked by a stranger on social media, and we are not surprised when our crazy uncle starts going on about religion being the opiate of the masses at Sunday dinner. We expect it, these people don’t share our faith, and it’s a pretty hard thing to wrap your brain around unless you have experienced the awe of it. So you let it go, or maybe you make a comment, but in the end you just accept it as a part of the world we live in and go on because it’s not personal.

But then there are times when things do get personal, when the people you love and depend go stupid and you begin to question the legitimacy of their faith. Evil is no longer an impersonal force, and you know this because you are living with it! The rebellious teen, the thoughtless spouse, the overbearing parent, or the unreliable roommate – any one of them at any time can become a pawn of Satan hell-bent on ruining your life. To make it worse, these were the same people you considered to be conduits of God’s love to you, and somehow our twisted little human brains begin to interpret this as God must have forgotten his obligation to demonstrating his love for you by smiting these sinners.

Now this is the part of being a Christian that can really suck. (Yeah, I said it.) The reason being is that requires somethings called self-discipline, self-awareness, and that other thing that always trips me up, self-control. No one likes to do these things, no one is born naturally good at these things, and no one ever gave another human being an award for practicing these things – matter how hard you had to work it. Even worse? The better you get at doing these things the less people realize how much effort you put into them.

As if that wasn’t enough, there is  only one way you really get to practice the skills need to become proficient at being self-disciplined, self-aware, and self-controlled, and it is having people do everything  in their power to knock you over – mentally, emotionally, spiritually, and yeah, sometimes even physically. It’s called training. It’s learning how to differentiate between the person you love and the behavior that hurt you. Its learning how distinguish between a violation of your preference and principle. It’s realizing that you aren’t the center of the world and the people are often dealing with their own demons, demons that don’t mind taking you out too.

So you have choice, to stop loving, to stop being open, to stop caring enough about others to give the power to hurt you, or to believe that God is bigger than anyone or anything that comes against you. You get to choose to walk in grace and mercy trusting that God can and will bring you through, or to hide your heart and all that you have been given behind the defenses that keep you safe. The thing is if you chose to hide, you are never going to be able to share the love that has been so freely given to you and you will never be able to help anyone walk in freedom while keeping your own heart imprisoned by your fear.

Running From Demons, or The Fine of Art of Hurting Yourself

I have spent a large portion of my life running, mostly from and occasionally to this thing I could not or did not want to define. I have always been afraid that if I truly embraced all that I know to be true I would only alienate those around me, after all when you spend your childhood knowing things that you should not know, being chastised for having an over active imagination, and doing your best just to fit in, you learn that there are parts of who you are that frighten the adults – you know, the rational folks who rule your world. Things didn’t get better when I supposedly joined the ranks of adults even though I was doing my best to follow the rules of proper behavior and belief.

I got married my final year of junior college, mostly because if you are good Christian girl in Oklahoma that’s what you do. He looked good on paper, ticked off all the little boxes on my checklist of things I wanted in husband that youth directors encourage us to make so that we can be objective in our decisions on who we are to marry. What I wasn’t prepared for was the battlefield being married to him would become, and I am not talking about our epic fights that often left me with bruises or the screaming matches that ended with threats to end one or both our lives, I am talking about the sheer presence of evil in our home.

For most people, evil is an abstract concept. It is something that you define and then you simply do not do that particular thing. It is something that exists but only as a principle or violation of principle, but for me it was real. And this is where I will lose a large part of you who will be convinced that I have lost my ever-lovin mind. When I say evil is real, I am talking about every stupid ploy used on horror movies multiplied by nine and then subdued by the lack of a soundtrack. Pots and pans flying about in your kitchen? Yup. Windows opening and closing on their own? Yup. Footsteps up and down the hallway? Been there done that. How about the radio, TV, and other electronics turning on and off, flipping stations, and emitting garbled noises when they aren’t even plugged in? Seen it. Fireplaces billowing with smoke when they haven’t held a fire in decades? Sure, it happened. The darks shadowy voids would prance about the edges of the room, like a person who moves just out of the corner of your eye, daring you to look at them. That was an everyday event.

My favorite? When they wake you up from a dead sleep to tell you something. My least favorite? When they contort the face of someone you love until they are no longer recognizable, and the spit curses at you in a voice that you have never heard before.

Even in the midst of all this, I was told I was the one losing my mind. I was told that my particular denomination did not have to deal with demons because we didn’t pay them any attention. You know that sounds all well and good, but I have to tell you, it is awful hard not to pay attention to them when they keep jerking the covers off your bed.

Over the years, I have developed a few theories. How right or wrong they are I am still willing to question, but overall they have held up. The first is that any demon that is desperate enough to use direct manifestation as its way to control a person isn’t much of a demon. In fact, I look at them in much the same way I look at mice. Now, ask yourself, how many people have you known who have been hurt by a killer attack mouse? Yeah, me neither. On the other hand, I have met a ton of people who have hurt themselves trying to get away from those fearsome beasts, and that is how most folks seem to get themselves hurt by demons – running away from them.

This is not to say that you don’t do anything. That is stupid. After all, if there is a mouse in your house you set traps, buy poison, call an exterminator because we all know that with mice there is filth and disease, and they will ruin everything they can by chewing it up or defecating on it. It is the same thing with demons, you get them out of your house before they destroy it.

Now most of us have been taught how to pray and how to stand on our authority as believers. We have the right to demand that they leave by the authority given to us in the name of Jesus. The Bible declares this, and quite frankly, most of us haven’t been using it. And I hear from so many who did that things just got worse, so they end up just hoping they will go away – hahahahahaha!!!

Not a chance. These things hide in walls, under furniture, and in your underwear drawer. Just because you can’t see them doesn’t mean they are not there. You have to take a step further.

All of nature abhors a vacuum, and before we started defining nature as this physical realm, nature was strictly spiritual. So it abides by many of same principles. I would go so far as to say that most of things you see in nature are reflection of how the spiritual realm works. This means that you have to fill the void left by their departure or they will just grab seven of their buddies and come back. This is where most people get stumped because they have never learned how to fill that void.

The good news is like all things of our faith, enacting the solution is easy – so easy that you might miss it. You fill that void with God. And where is God enthroned? On the praise of his people. You have to invite him, create a throne in your home, in your heart, and in your life. Too many of us are claiming to be his subjects but have never bothered to create a place in our lives from which he can rule. It is not enough to do lip service and never put this knowledge in action because when we fail to do so we are leaving a giant void in our lives just crying out to be filled and since demons, unlike God, don’t wait for invitation, guess who is going to rush right in?

This is by no means a comprehensive battle plan. It is just a taste of some of things I am learning not to run away from in my life, and I doing a lesson review for myself as much as for you. To learn more, I strongly recommend Victory Over the Darkness by Neil Anderson and I also recommend that you surround yourself with people who seeking God more than they are worried about what is slipping around in the darkness. Because there is an inherent risk when we focus on these thing too long and too closely, we can become mesmerized by their power and the mystery of it all. We can be overwhelmed by the sheer force of evil that we now realizes surrounds us and become fearful and defeated. But God wants us to know that he is bigger, greater, more powerful, and more awe inspiring than any of the petty displays the demonic enacts on this earth. He wants our hearts to comforted and emboldened to not only seek him but to demonstrate the world the glory of his love in our lives, and we cannot do that if we have been seduced or terrified by beings who have already been defeated at the cross.

So we learn to walk with knowledge and discernment. We seek our Lord so that we may know truth. We strive for balance, somewhere between ignorance and obsession, so that we are properly equipped to face our enemy while never being distracted from our King.