Category "Guest Posts"

Sunday Shout-Outs

Two beautifully challenging pieces to share today—the first one is new, the other is a few years old…

shannon dingle for post

I Want To Help You Understand My Lament by Shannon Dingle.

I’m hurting, friend. I’m hurting deeply. And I’m being told to suck it up and put away my pain and move on. Rather than call those responses insensitive, I want to help you understand my lament, if I can.

My heart is so tender, and I’m praying with each word that they will be received in the matter in which I intend. I know a lot of voices are shouting right now. I hope to be a voice that pulls up a chair to chat over coffee and share my heart.

I occupy a unique space. I’m white, but four of my children aren’t.

I was born here into a family that dates back to the pilgrim days, but four of my children are immigrants from Asia and Africa. I have ancestors who fought under the Confederate flag, but I’ve been targeted online as a “race traitor” for adopting outside of our ethnicity. I easily pass as having no disabilities (though I live with chronic conditions that are invisible yet can be disabiling), but I’m raising children who live with autism and cerebral palsy and HIV and visual impairments, including one who uses a wheelchair. My husband and I are straight and fit into accepted gender norms, but we have dear friends and neighbors who aren’t or don’t. I’m a Christian, but last year a Muslim friend of mine and her son waited at the preschool until we arrived to walk in with me and Zoe because she was afraid to walk in by herself after the Paris terrorism attacks.

And I occupy one common space: I am a woman who, like 1 in 6, has been raped. I am a woman who was sexually harassed in my workspace and whispered about when I filed a grievance against the man in power who objectified me. I am a woman raised by a father who doesn’t “read books by women because they aren’t any good.” (And I’m a writer, so the hurt is doubled there.)

I am grieving. Many are reading this as being a sore loser. But that’s not how I’m feeling. I have… Read More

Sunday Shout Out: About Rice Krispies & Holy Work

My shout-out today goes to Sarah Bessey and her fantastic post about Rice Krispies and holy work. Here’s a quick sample…

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Now I don’t know if you’ve ever had the misfortune to have to clean up wet Rice Krispies but if not, I’ll offer this piece of advice: you cannot sweep them up, you cannot vacuum them up, you cannot wipe them up. No, Rice Krispies turn to a gluey substance which adheres to whatever surface it finds and instead of cleaning them up by those attempts, you only smear them. Ask me how I know. No, no, instead, you must pick them up one at a time, bit by bit, and only then can you wash the floor properly. Unless you want your feet to stick to the floor or you wish to burn the house down (which I considered for a moment), you must pick up every single Rice Krispie individually and only then wash the floor.

I began to get angry as I picked up those Rice Krispies. Oh, properly angry! Not at the tinies who created the mess – those messes can’t be helped when one is tiny, they’re part of the deal – but rather at the fact that this was my life. This was just one more daily indignity to the joyous and difficult and yet sometimes monotonous unending routine of caring for small children.

I muttered to myself under that kitchen table about how I was too smart for this. Oh, I did: I was too special for this! Surely someone else could do this work, someone else should be doing this work! After all, I was creative and capable! I was well educated! I used to manage budgets of $14 million dollars! I used to wear high heels and create marketing campaigns! Then my repressed struggling artist side entered the dialogue and ranted quietly about how I was meant to be writing! I was meant to have creative space to, well, create! Who could create anything or write anything while in the middle of diapers and bath times and housework? I am too creative for this! I am meant to be a writer not a maid!

I bet C.S. Lewis never had to clean up cereal.

And then that little evangelical hero complex in me joined the chorus: I was meant to change the world! I was meant to be someone! To lead! To be set apart! To tell people about Jesus, right? To be a hero in the kingdom of God! And instead here I was doing menial work that was contributing nothing to the world.

It would be funny if I hadn’t actually believed the… Read More

Invested In Fear by Jason Wiedel

from Jason Wiedel’s blog

I have noticed that there is always something for Christians to fear.

At least that is what they tell us. When I was a kid it was Satanism, Dungeons & Dragons, heavy metal music and anything with a whiff of the occult. The teenagers of the 80′s who ignored the warnings eventually got jobs, had families, and (for the most part) became contributors to society. They didn’t become devil worshipers or serial killers.

The kids who watched Fern Gully and Captain Planet in the 90′s didn’t become hippies and pagans. The kids who read Harry Potter didn’t take up witchcraft. The teens who went to see the Twilight movies did not take up drinking blood.

The bar code did not become the mark of the beast.

The Soviet Union never started World War III. Bill Clinton never tried to make Christianity illegal. And the United Nations has never attempted to reduce the surplus population.

Feminism has not led to the extinction of men. Belief in evolution has not led to a second holocaust. Gay marriage has not destroyed the sanctity of heterosexual marriage.

Yes, there were Christians who were promoting every single one of those fears, and even though none of the things we have been told to fear have… Read More

Open Wounds

picture above: balloons being released by the grandkids after my mom’s memorial service this past August – yellow is my mom’s favorite color.

Note—this post is by Debie Thomas, originally posted on the Journey with Jesus blog.

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A few days ago, my daughter and I were looking at the websites of colleges she’ll apply to next year, noticing the buzzwords admissions committees use to highlight qualities they value.  “High achievement.”  “Determination.”  “Initiative.”  After a few minutes, my daughter frowned and moved away from the computer.

“They want battle scars,” she said bitterly.  “Not open wounds.”

Her sentence stopped me cold.  I don’t know if it’s an accurate assessment of college admissions in the U.S right now — I suspect it is.  But what struck me about her remark is how painfully relevant it is to the Church.  In my experience, Christians put a lot of stock in triumph and victory.  We value the race won, the mountain scaled, the enemy defeated,  the obstacle overcome.  Sure, we welcome stories of sin and struggle, but only when those stories are shared in retrospect, long after the sordid worst is over.  Sin that has surrendered to righteousness?  That’s a Christian story.  But sin that clings?  Challenges that won’t ease up?  A wound — physical, psychological, or relational — that festers?  We squirm.  We turn our eyes away.  We worry.  Battle scars, not open wounds.

I’d like to understand better why we do this.  I’m sure there are several reasons, but here are a few I’ve been thinking about… Read More

From Addie Zierman: 10 Questions To Ask Instead Of “How’s Your Walk With God?”

I loved this post from Addie Zierman: 10 Questions to Ask Instead of “How’s Your Walk With God?” Here are a few of my favorite lines…

It’s a subtle shift in language, but an important one. After all, there are a million miles between what should be and what is, and so many of the Christian Living books and blogs and music and “devotions” out there focus on the former.

Believe me, I’m acutely aware of all of the ways I’m not measuring up.

I don’t need seven simple steps toward a vibrant spiritual life – seven more ways to fail. I don’t even really need an “accountability partner,” that churchy staple – to ask prod me toward more intentional time in the Word and in prayer.

do need people to ask me questions and to move alongside of me in my spiritual journey. But I need those questions to be asked with exceptional gentleness and care, without agenda, making room for me to recognize that God is already here. God is already at work. 

I think this is something that each of us needs, but it’s particularly important for those like me, who are… Read More

Body Of Truth (Being The Church Is Like Dancing)

*picture – “Children Dance” by William H. Johnson

Today’s post comes from Jake Owensby’s blog: Pelican Anglican… (which has quickly become one of my absolute favorites)

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A friend of mine from South Louisiana told me, “Those Cajun boys know how to dance.” She was talking fondly about a particular young Cajun man as if to say, “I love dancing with that guy.”

I wondered what it must be like to dance so well that other people want to dance with me for the sheer joy of it. To move with such energy and grace and abandon that others are swept up in the movement.

From time to time I find myself—with some reluctance—on a dance floor. While I’m under no illusions about my abilities, I do still aim for a sort of John Travolta thing.

I’m not thinking of the wiry, lithe Travolta of “Saturday Night Fever.” Instead, I picture myself as the older, chunkier Travolta of “Pulp Fiction.”

In that film, his Vincent and Uma Thurman’s Mia win a twist competition at a fifties-themed restaurant called Jack Rabbit Slim’s. Their version of the twist was way cooler and, well, hotter than anything Chubby Checker ever dreamed of.

My flailing arms and wooden footwork bear no resemblance to Travolta’s sensuously effortless turning and twisting. A fair description of my dance moves might include words like awkward and stiff.

And yet, despite my clumsiness, my wife Joy and I have fun when we dance. It always takes me a few minutes to get past my self-consciousness, to push through my fear of… Read More

You May Hate Yourself, But God Is Crazy In Love With You

From Subversive1, the writings of Keith Giles…

You May Hate Yourself, But God Is Crazy In Love With You

You make His heart sing. He can’t stop thinking about you. He throws back His head and He sings over you.

The voices of the angels ring in His ears night and day, but what He yearns for most desperately is to hear your voice calling out His name.

You think you’re worthless, but He thinks you’re worth dying for. The value He has placed on you is greater than you can imagine.

He literally gave His life to be with you.

When He saw how much it would cost to make you His own He didn’t… Read More

The Gardener by Brian Zahnd

I’ve been thinking a lot about metaphors lately—especially the ones most commonly used in church. Whatever metaphor or metaphors we choose to be primary will inevitably shape both our perspective and approach—how we think and how we behave.

The military metaphor is one we’re all familiar with. “I’m in the Lord’s army… Yes Sir!” (I sang that a lot as a kid growing up in church). What I don’t love about this metaphor is how simplistic, black and white, its perspective is. Either you’re fighting with me or you are my enemy. Everyone is either a good guy or a bad guy. Life is a battle. There are winners and there are losers.

The competitive metaphor is similar. Psychologist Jonathan Haidt says, “This tribal psychology is so deeply pleasurable that even when we don’t have tribes, we go ahead and make them, because it’s fun. Sports is to war as pornography is to sex. We get to exercise some ancient, ancient drives.” So in sports, you’re either fighting with me or you are my opposition. Life is a contest. There are winners and there are losers. Nobody wants a tie.

While these types of metaphors are certainly found in Scripture, I do wonder about people who… Read More

Sunday Shout Out: Parker Palmer On The Gift Of Presence & The Perils Of Advice

On Sundays, I like to give a shout out and share something (generally a blog post, story, or video) that spoke to me. The piece I want to share today is by Parker Palmer…

parker j palmer

When my mother went into a nursing home not long before she died, my wife and I were told that, for a modest increase in the monthly fee, the staff would provide a few extra services to improve her quality of life. We gladly paid, grateful that we could afford it.

Now in our mid-seventies, my wife and I have no imminent need for assisted living or nursing care. But the house we live in is, by definition, a two-person residential facility for the aging. Here at what we fondly call The Home, it’s not uncommon for one of us to try “improve” the other’s quality of life by offering “extra services.”

Unfortunately, those services often take the form of advice.

A few years ago, my wife gave me some advice that struck me as — how shall I say? — superfluous. Remembering our experience with my mother, I said, “Could I pay a little less this month?” To this day, that line gives us a chance to laugh instead of getting defensive when one of us attempts, as both of us do now and then, to give the other unsolicited and unwanted “help.”

Advice-giving comes naturally to our species, and is mostly done with good intent. But in my experience, the driver behind a lot of advice has as much to do with… Read More

Ow Foddo en evan (Teaching The Lord’s Prayer To My Children)

It’s Sunday and I have a shout out…

This post by Ryan Flanagan is honestly my favorite thing I’ve ever read on the Lord’s prayer. Hope you’ll read the whole thing.

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Over the past couple of months I have been teaching my kids the Lord’s Prayer. It’s amazing how fast they pick these kinds of things up. They’ve already got “The Doxology” down, as well as the first verse to “Be Thou My Vision” (the most requested bedtime song these days) and “Bless Us, O Lord” (the mealtime prayer). And even though they have no idea what some of the words mean, I do believe their hearts are being shaped by the practice.

I know mine certainly is.

I have to admit that up to this point praying the Lord’s Prayer has not been a regular practice in my life. I have given mental assent to it, studied its contents, and recited it in corporate worship on occasion, but it has never blossomed in my heart like it has recently, especially this past week.

I would venture to say that the Lord’s Prayer for most of us is an abstract, in-the-clouds sort of prayer. Many of the words that make up the prayer–like heaven, kingdom, sin, and forgive–have been so churchified that they’ve lost any and all sensibleness and relatedness to our everyday lives. This cannot be what Jesus had in mind when teaching his disciples how to pray. To those first followers of Jesus this prayer was as down-to-earth as was his physical presence; these words were as basic as the language of two and four-year-olds.

This is what the Lord has taught me in teaching his prayer to my children.

Ow Foddo en evan, ho-yee is… Read More