Category: Christianity

Christianity

Legacy.

by ShethChristianity / LifeLeave a Comment on Legacy.

I’ve been thinking about my legacy for some reason – what I want to be remembered for – and I can’t honestly say whether or not it’s good.  It’s difficult to say what people would say about me, and that kind of worries me because I’m a people pleaser.  Deep down, I think a lot of us worry about that – what would people say about us?  What would they remember us for?

I’d like to think that there are a lot of good things that people would say about me, but what would they not say that they wanted to say?  When I’m at a funeral and people stand up and speak about the dead it’s always good stuff “He was dedicated to his family…” or “She loved sharing with others…”  If you walked in on a funeral and you heard these people talk, you’d probably think the deceased was the greatest person to walk the earth.

But the truth is we’re not all that our eulogies will make us out to be.  As good as it sounds, we won’t always be ‘nice’ or ‘kind’ or ‘loving’.  We won’t always be ‘giving of ourselves unconditionally’.  It would be somewhat relieving to hear an honest eulogy at a funeral: “He was a good man, but he drank a lot and yelled at the kids…”  ”She cheated on her husband once and hid it from him…”  But it won’t ever happen because that’s not the type of stuff we want to remember about someone.  We want to remember the good things, the happy things that that person did or was.

Whenever I drive my mom out of town for one of her doctor appointments I always try to pry some history out of her – about her life as a kid, about her parents or siblings.  As much as I want the nitty-gritty stuff I can never seem to get it out of her.  There are hints and underlying clues that her growing up in the 1950’s wasn’t  Leave it to Beaver-ish , but she doesn’t get into details.  I think she does it because she wants to remember the good – the bad stuff is gone and should stay there.

On one hand I think it would be nice for people to stand up during my funeral and just get it all out there – “Sheth was a nice guy, but sometimes he could be a real jerk” “There were times when he just couldn’t shut off the sarcasm” “For once I would have liked it if he was serious with us instead of always joking around”.  But then again, it’d be nice for people to reiterate the good and decent things I did, the heart that I had, the life that I lived.

One of the things I love about the bible is how brutally honest it is about the characters within it.  It doesn’t cover up the fact that that Paul brutalized Christians prior to his conversion.  It doesn’t gloss over the fact that Noah was naked and drunk, and Moses was a murderer, and David slept around.  The fact is, as much as these men rose to greatness with God, they also failed along the way.  A lot of times we remember these men as they were in the end – not as they were along the way – just as we do with eulogies.

In the end people are going to remember you the way they remember you.  As hard as you try to please them, or make them happy, or put on a good exterior they’re going to see through it.  They’re going to think back on your life the way they remembered it – the good, the bad, the not so friendly.  They’re going to remember you when you didn’t shower for 3 days; when you lost your temper and swore at them; when you gave them the flowers for their birthday out of the blue; when you laughed together until it hurt.  I figure the best I can do about my legacy is to make sure the good memories outweigh the bad, that the good things are easy to remember and the bad are hard to recall, and that along the way we had some excellent times.

.much love. sheth.

Q&A For Realsies.

by ShethChristianity / Essay / LifeLeave a Comment on Q&A For Realsies.

Every church has its ‘meet and greet’ session, usually somewhere towards the beginning.  The pastor will get up and say a few words, maybe make an announcement or two, then say something like, “Now will you take a moment to greet those around you”.  And there are hands being shook, friends talking, and gossip flowing (yup, even in church).

It’s kind of fun being the new-ish guy in a church (even though I’ve been there a while) and seeing how people tend to stick to those they know.  I’ve been approached by a few people, but by and large I’m ignored, or at least not noticed.  Part of me completely understands – it’s difficult and sometimes scary introducing yourself to someone new (I usually never go out of my way to make new friends).

Discussions in church usually go like this: name, how I am doing, what I do, how the weather is today.  That’s the good, American, superficial way to make small talk.  There’s never anything brought up in the conversation that’s too hard to deal with or handle.  This kind of conversation is easy to be in – it’s simple, on the surface stuff.

There are times when I like to throw things for a loop with people and I’ll drop in something serious just to make the conversation uncomfortable.  The other person, being polite, will ask how I’m doing, and I will answer with something about my mom’s cancer still being in remission, or my dad struggling with work, or how we all worry about how we’re going to take care of each other with less and less money, or that I’m feeling lonely; sometimes I’ll throw in some stuff about my bankruptcy or divorce or son that I know nothing about.

And I do this because, frankly, it’s stuff I want to talk about.  It’s stuff that needs to be talked about.  We all have this kind of stuff in our lives that we want to talk about.  Serious stuff, life stuff.  Divorces, bad relationships, cheating spouses, abuse, issues with raising kids, money problems, medical issues, aging parents, work problems.  There’s so many things in our lives that we desperately want to talk about, but we never really feel like we have the opportunity to talk about them with other people.  A lot of times I think that people don’t want to know the dirty stuff in my life, the real stuff, so why should I even bother
them with it?  Sadly, I’m sure that’s what a lot of other people feel and that’s why they don’t open up to me.

We’re all a little closed off from one another.  We ask them how they are, they say fine, and we say good.  Then we move on to the next outstretched hand to shake and repeat the process.  We need to look for the hurting, the broken, and the weary that are in our own homes, our own churches, our own neighborhoods.  It’s great that we send out missionaries to other countries, but sometimes I really think we need to get our own people taken care of first.  We need to feed the hungry family that sits next to us in church.  We need to visit with our elderly neighbor.  We need to pay for a tank of gas for the single mom struggling to make ends meet.  But we don’t do this stuff because a lot of times we just don’t know that people have these needs.

I can’t find it anywhere in the bible where Jesus asks people how they are doing.  He never has a casual conversation with anyone:
“And the Lord sayeth to John, ‘How’s it going?’
And John answereth, ‘I’m alright.  Just fishin’ and what not.’
The Lord smileth with gladness and went about his day.”

Jesus is portrayed in the bible as going out and looking for people to help, he asks what’s troubling people, what’s wrong, and what he can do to fix it.  We need to be asking more of the hard questions, the real questions that people want to be asked.  Look around – there are people dying to talk, people that need help, people that want a shoulder to cry on.

.much love. sheth.

Encouragement Sandwich.

by ShethChristianity / LifeLeave a Comment on Encouragement Sandwich.

Philippians 4:13: “I can do all this through him who gives me strength.”

If you spent any amount of time in church or around Christians then there is no doubt that you have probably heard this verse; it usually comes after you tell someone about a difficulty you’ve been having in your life:

Person 1: “So yeah, I ended up losing my job and have no food on my table for me or my family.”

Person 2: “Wow, that’s rough.  Remember what the Bible says, ‘I can do all this through him who gives me strength’.  You may seem defeated now, but you’ll bounce back.”

Words meant for comfort sometimes end up hurting more than helping.  How many of the people who are giving these words have ever been in the same situation that you’re in?  How many of them have dealt with the things you have to deal with?  How did they feel when someone told them, you’ll make it!  I understand the premise of the words – the reason the words are given, but a lot of times it doesn’t really help.  I’ve been guilty countless times of doing the same.  The guy doesn’t need just encouragement – he needs a sandwich, too!

A lot of times we assume that God is going to take care of those in need, and all we have to do is offer up some words now and again.  I’ll do the speaking, God will take care of the rest.  Where is the sandwich going to come from?  Yes, God can make food appear.  It’s in the Bible countless times – both old and new testaments.  So often we wait for God to take care of those in need when in actuality he’s given us all the necessary tools to help & take care of those in need.  He wants to help – through us!

A question I’ve been asking a lot of people that I meet in church is this: do you think people should attend services before they receive help from your church?  I get a mix of answers, from yes to no to it depends on the situation.  And I can’t wrap my head around the last two.  The church should be giving, giving, giving to everyone – members, non-members, Christmas-time members, frequenters, and people who have never ever stepped foot inside their door.  Never once did Jesus say, “I’d be more than willing to help you, but first I want you to come listen to me next Sunday…what?  Yes, I realize that it’s Tuesday and your rent is due on Thursday.  But you’ll benefit from the message.”  Jesus helped first and talked later.  He knew the seriousness of the situations and he understood that meeting the immediate needs were a stepping stone to meeting the other needs of the person.

When you hear of needs, maybe our knee-jerk reaction to answer those needs should be the right answer.  I know from experience that people who have helped me out have done it not because they wanted credit, or they knew that it would bring me closer to God – they knew I had a need and they met that need.  There were no questions, “So, after I gave you that money, did you go back to church?”   When we help people, the immediate needs lead to the deeper issues, to God.  By all means, offer up words of encouragement, but if they need food then give them food!

much love. sheth.

Sin, Cows & Speedy Cowgirls.

by ShethChristianity / LifeLeave a Comment on Sin, Cows & Speedy Cowgirls.

Yesterday I was working down at the salebarn – selling kine (the plural for cow – bet you didn’t know that!), 2 sheep, and one horse.  It was a usual sale – people come & drop off their animals, they go into the ring, are sold, then I pen them back.  My job is relatively simple.  I have a map in front of me, and when a buyer purchases an animal I call out the pen number the animal is to go in over a PA system.  The people doing the actual work then release the animal into the alley and they guide it to the pen.  Simple.

Well, there was a cow waiting to be penned back – I had called out the number and it was sitting on the scale waiting to go.  But it wasn’t going.  She was rather grumpy.  This girl was in there trying to get the cow to move but she wouldn’t budge.  I go back there and try to help from a safe distance, waving my hat and yelling to get the cow’s attention.  All of the sudden she drops her head and bolts after the girl on the scale.  The girl’s eyes got as big and round as tea saucers and she turned tail and ran.  So I’m standing there helpless as a girl is being chased down by an angry cow.  Now, this girl was quick – I’ve never seen anybody move so quick in my life.  She hit a gate and leapt up it like a frog, and the cow turned down the alley.  This girl knew the danger behind her, chasing after her, and she did all she could to avoid it.

My prayer life is in recovery right now, and the best I can do is journal to God, which is what I’ve been doing for almost two months now, every day.  It’s been helpful to actually write down what I’m praying about and it’s nice to look back and see the progress God has been making in my life.  I related the above story to God and told him how thankful I was that the girl wasn’t injured.

And it hit me: why is it that when we see danger in our spiritual lives we don’t turn tail and run to God?  Why is it that we usually sit back and let the sin, the evil, Satan plow us over and injure us so badly?  I cannot imagine the pain and hurt that girl would be in today if she had been hit by that cow.  But I know the pain and hurt that I feel when sin & evil run me over.  And yet, it hasn’t been enough to make me do my best to avoid sin altogether.  I keep going back and trying to face it on my own and it always plows me over like a train hitting an old Volkswagen Beetle.  I’m torn, beaten, shredded – destroyed again and again.  God comes along, puts me back together, and I go out again to do the same thing.

I suppose it’s my humanness that makes me head back in the same direction again and again and again and again.   But I’m tired of using that excuse.  I’m tired of having to put God through the torment of having to watch me crash over and over again.  I’m sure each time I do it he throws his hands up in the air, “Seriously, Sheth!  Come on!  We’ve been through this before!”  Maybe I’m a slow learner.

I’m trying my best to avoid the cow in my life that wants to run me down.  I’m trying to avoid sin, evil, Satan.  It’s tough, that’s for sure, especially in a world that is devoted to promoting it.  But I’ll keep a watchful eye so I can turn tail and run like the girl and head for safety in a split second.

much love. sheth.

Voyeurism, Hoarding, & Stuff.

by ShethChristianity / LifeLeave a Comment on Voyeurism, Hoarding, & Stuff.

The show ‘Hoarders’ on A&E really fascinates and scares me and I can’t help but watch it.  Certainly there is a voyeuristic approach to the show – the viewers get a chance to look inside other people’s homes and see how they live.  But it’s never as exciting as the word ‘voyeuristic’ makes it out to be.  If anything it’s heartbreaking, saddening, and frightening.

The show follows seemingly normal people with a terrible secret – they all have hoarded ‘stuff’.  Some of it may be part of a collection.  Some of it may be gifts for someone else that were never sent.  Some of it is just impulse buys.  But the fact is that it’s all ‘stuff’ that they can’t get rid of.  One man, adamant that he wasn’t a hoarder, said, “…we don’t hoard…we’re…we’re collectors…”  While a collection is typically themed, say sports cards or comics, these people had everything.  And collectors are proud of their collection – they keep it clean, maintained, and on display; these people had none of that.  The simple fact of it all is this: the hoarders have collected ‘stuff’ of all types, for many different reasons, with no way of overcoming the problem by themselves.

I’ve been in a few houses of hoarders – some minimal, and some extreme.  It’s overwhelming to be in a house crammed full of items of all shapes, sizes, smells, and value.  It takes a few minutes to acclimate yourself if it’s your first time because the sheer sense overload takes you for a ride.  When in these situations I always want to start cleaning up and throwing stuff away – old newspapers, broken cups and vases, photos of people no one knows.  But I can’t because it’s not mine, it’s not for me to say that this is trash and that is a keeper.

What’s especially difficult for me is dealing with my grandmother who is in her mid-eighties now.  She lived through the depression and learned at a young age to use what’s available, keep what may be usable, and don’t throw it away unless you’re absolutely sure you won’t need it.  Her thought process makes sense to me because I understand her background, but I can’t understand why she still thinks this way.  She hasn’t gone without in a very, very, very long time.  Her pantry is packed full of canned food, she has a full-size freezer loaded with all kinds of meats and fruits, and her refrigerator is maxed out to capacity.  When she is in plenty, why does she still maintain the thoughts of one who is without?

When I moved to (and from) Alaska, I had to really pare down my possessions.  On the trip up I had mailed many boxes of my belongings, and had only minimally weighed down my car.  But when I returned penniless I couldn’t afford to mail anything, so I had to abandon many of my belongings – printer, books, cd’s, etc.  A lot of things I assumed were precious to me were left behind.  Granted, my car was still loaded down on the return, I had essentially a quarter of what I did before I left to go to Alaska.  Through the years since then I’ve acquired new items, but I’ve also gotten rid of a great many items.  I learned that it’s okay to be without ‘stuff’ – I can survive without the books I never read and the cd’s I never listened to.  I’m proud to say that I can easily get everything I own into my little Mazda Protégé – with room to spare.  I can do without a lot of physical stuff because it’s replaceable, it’s temporary, it’s not all that important.

But here’s the sad fact: I am a hoarder.  I look at my life – my inner life (spiritual, emotional, feelings and all that) – and I realize that I have so many old feelings and hurts stored deep inside me.  So much so that it keeps me trapped, unhealthy, and unable to move forward in life.  I have memories of being hurt by old friends who told me that I wasn’t good enough to be their friend anymore.  I have resounding voices of girlfriends past telling me that it wasn’t me – it was them – when in fact it was me…they no longer wanted to be with me.  I have pictures of faces of people who have scowled, frowned, and yelled at me.  I hoard all this, and so much more, deep within my soul.

It’s a challenge, too, because I don’t always remember the good times – those I don’t always hoard.  Maybe it’s because the bad is easier to remember.  Maybe it’s because I want to hold on to that grudge.  Maybe it’s because the bad is the only thing I remember of that person or event.  I know I’ve had many good things happen in my life, I’ve had many great relationships and friends along the way, and I know the memories and feelings are down in my soul somewhere.  I am a hoarder of emotions, feelings, and all that.

So it’s up to me to say that this is trash and that is a keeper.  Whatever an ex-girlfriend said about why I’m no good – this is trash.  I must hold on to the truth that I am loved by many people – and that is a keeper.  The idea that maybe I never was a good choice for the kickball teams as a kid – this is trash.  Being told that I’ll never be able to read or write – this is trash.  Learning that God loves me in spite of all that I have done to him…in spite of what others think of me – that is a keeper.  That, most definitely, is a keeper.

much love. sheth.

Wide Paths & Rabbits.

by ShethChristianity / LifeLeave a Comment on Wide Paths & Rabbits.

This past week I took a drive up to the trailhead of Mt. Shavano & Tabeguache, and as I drove I looked up at the ridges leading to the tops of the mountains, others reaching from peak to peak like sagging cobwebs.  The narrower paths are typically taken when people are hiking from one peak to another, as some do in an attempt to conquer two fourteeners in one day.  And these paths are scary looking – nearly sheer drops for hundreds of feet on both sides; the footing consisting of unstable rock which can easily slip out from underneath your feet.  Only the skilled – or daring – challenge these passes from peak to peak.

At the church I go to we usually always do a responsive reading  – they’re the ones where the leader reads a line and the congregation follows, then the leader reads and then congregation reads, so on and so forth.  It’s usually only one or two passes between the two; an orchestrated juggling act where everyone in the congregation tries to read at the same pace and at the same tone, but never really works.  I’ve never understood the whole thing and it sometimes aggravates me because everyone isn’t working together on it – you have people reading fast, slow, too loud.  It’s hard for me to concentrate when all that other ‘stuff’ is happening.  Last week we read the following from Psalm 18:

Leader: I love you, O Lord, my strength.  You are my Rock in whom I take refuge.

People: You have given me a wide place to stand and my feet do not slip.

Leader: In my distress I called upon the Lord and God helped me.

People: For this reason, O Lord, I will sing your praises.

Leader: Let us worship God!

To be honest, I don’t remember much of the sermon that week because that one line stuck with me: “You have given me a wide place to stand and my feet do not slip.”  I have thought about this one line all week and it’s stuck with me, especially the first half, “You have given me a wide place to stand…”  I looked up the verse, Psalm 18:37, to get a translation of it and see it in the original Hebrew.  The first word, thrchib shows as being literally translated as “you are widening” – in the process, actively, currently, widening it right now.  God is widening the pathway – it’s almost like David can see it before his eyes…he can see God plainly expanding the width of the path that David is on.

I’ve spent many hours in the woods hiking around, taking the less-than-beaten path trailing deer and rabbit or looking for that one amazing place to take a photograph.  I’ve been in the thick of the woods, where I can’t see anything but trees and the animals know it’s a good place to be because I wouldn’t be able to see them.  It’s dark and cold and downright forbidding sometimes.

But there are moments when the trail just seems to widen up, sometimes out of nowhere I’ll find myself in a wide open space in the midst of trees.  Maybe it’ll be a small meadow, or an area where a stream runs.  It’s really weird, too, because it doesn’t always seem like it would ever be possible for there to be an ending to the thick woods, but then the path just breaks open.  It’s always a good thing when the path breaks open, when we can see it widening before our very eyes.  When you’re on a mountainside moving from peak to peak, or trudging through the dark woods, and the path opens up, slowly it gets wider and wider and you begin to feel that you are safe – that’s when the breath of relief comes.

Lately I’ve been feeling like I’ve been given the roadmap to take the path out of the dark woods – I’ve been given the chance to move along and the path is slowly getting wider and wider.  God is giving me a broader place to stand each and every day.  Sometimes I think it’s not wide enough and I’m going to fall at any moment, but it’s just wide enough to where I won’t fall off.  I can’t thank God enough for widening the path day by day and allowing me to see how blessed I am to have such a path.

much love. sheth.

Pennies & Jolly Ranchers.

by ShethChristianity / LifeLeave a Comment on Pennies & Jolly Ranchers.

There was an older lady that lived up the street from us and we always knew what to expect from her, although we’d constantly hoped for more. She would answer the door and we’d say drably, “Trick or treat.” Year after year, with a silver serving tray held in both of her bony hands, she would present the pennies laid out on it for our taking, “…but only one!” she would say, as if we knew the value she held in them. To us, the pennies were of little worth. With that lone penny we could ride the mechanical brown horse at the grocery store, but that was about it. We mainly stopped at the house to appease the old woman – she always enjoyed seeing us at her doorstep asking for Halloween candy, or selling candy bars or magazine subscriptions for baseball and boy scouts.

Living in the suburbs of Denver, we typically expected it to snow on Halloween – we knew it would be really cold for sure, so we would put on our long underwear (and sometimes snow pants, gloves, and coat), and head out. There was usually a group of us kids – my brother, me and two or three other neighborhood kids. We’d go from house to house yelling “Trick or Treat!” Many of the houses we went to were good to us – loads of small candy bars, jolly ranchers, and tootsie rolls of various flavors (usually hardened leftovers from the year before). The idea that Halloween was somehow wrapped around pagan rituals was foreign to us. It was a night to get dressed up in creatively made costumes and ask the neighbors for candy.

Creatively is the key word here because we never had the money to spend buying a costume with the likeness of GI Joe, the Thundercats, or any other number of Saturday morning cartoon characters. My brother and I typically went as hobos (politically incorrect now, but it worked then), clowns, or army men. Sometimes we’d cover boxes with aluminum foil, put some knobs and buttons on it, and use dryer vent tubing as arms and legs for a robot from the future. We were creative…or my parents were as they tried to make the best out of our situation by talking us down from buying costumes and assuring us that an old dress coat, a handkerchief on a stick, and some grease paint would make us the best looking hobos in town and everyone would love it.

I’m not really sure now who I was trying to impress. The day of Halloween (or if it was on the weekend, then Friday) we would get to wear our costumes at school all day. I always worried that the other kids in school would be in awesome costumes – the ones that I saw advertised on TV or in the mall. Really scary masks like Jason Voohres, Freddy Kruger gloves, and fake bloody cuts that looked real. I was afraid that my hobo or clown costume just wouldn’t be in the same rank as everyone else’s.

And one fact always came through. The other kids, for the most part, had homemade costumes just like mine. Some parents sprang for the painted vinyl bodysuit and flimsy plastic mask with eye holes cut out, but those were the privileged kids and honestly we weren’t too jealous of their costumes. They looked like they could pass, but everyone knew the costumes were horrible and fake and…bought. Our costumes were an entire package – as a hobo we’d carry a can of beans, have dirt rubbed onto our cheeks and our hair messy and unkempt as we wore clothes too big for our little bodies. We didn’t have a fakeness or cheesiness on Halloween – we lived the part the whole day. For that one day of the year we were hobos wandering the streets for food and candy, or clowns looking for a good laugh, or army men protecting the country from the Russians (yup, I’m that old).

I’m realizing that Christianity isn’t a costume you can put on and take off at will. For many years I’ve done this and it’s difficult to admit that’s who I was. I’ve had the good natured, happy, republican, loving Christian costume on for too long. The more I understand who I am and who God is, the more difficult it is to pin it down to a specific set of definitions. God is loving but vengeful. God is happy but capable of being angered. He’s republican and democrat…and independent and green party…and non-political. The more I learn about God and who He really is, the more I’m surprised by what I discover.

As I move forward in my life and begin again to live life as a Christian – the real deal – I realize the more difficult it’s going to be, that’s for sure. No more costumes or makeup or masks. God calls me to be either hot or cold. I’m either for him or not. He despises fakes and will spit them out…and I don’t want to be spit out. Dig deep and find out who you are as a Christian, because this is your whole being – this, this belief in Jesus and God above everything else, is who you’re supposed to be.

much love. sheth.

I Like Big Buts.

by ShethChristianity / LifeLeave a Comment on I Like Big Buts.

As I read this last night I couldn’t help but imagine the whole scene: David and his army are encamped on a hillside, the enemy on the opposite side. Everyone is yelling and screaming; threats are being made. Rocks are being thrown. Hand gestures are being made. Testosterone is thick in the air as the hunt for blood is about to commence. It is controlled chaos. And David is kneeling in his tent, crying out to God for help. David knows the severity of his situation – he knows where his enemy is, and what may happen.

And he throws in that word – the one that is used in the bible so many times, the one that Christians love: but. David recognizes that he’s in a deep hole, BUT he knows God is going to protect him. It seems to be one of David’s favorite words. Reading the psalms you’ll find it everywhere: Psalm 9:17-18…Psalm 10:13-14…Psalm 13:5…Psalm 22:19…Psalm 25:3…Psalm 31:14 – the list goes on and on.

I can’t help but think about how much easier my life would be if I had an actual, physical army to face as opposed to these intangibles. I can’t punch my debts; I can’t yell at my fears; I can’t push and kick at my personal struggles. I can’t physically do anything to relieve my battles. They’re there, but they’re not.

I need more ‘buts’ in my life. “I may be struggling with this bankruptcy paperwork, BUT God will make sure it turns out for the best”, “I may not have money to buy the things I want, BUT God continues to make sure I have what I need”, “People around me may be telling me that God is not the answer, BUT God is the answer and he will deliver me.” But. But. But.

Isn’t that what our faith is all about? We are sinners, but God still loves us. We were condemned to hell, but Jesus died for us. I once was lost, but now I’m found…was blind, but now I see. The world tells me to hate this person or that person, but Jesus says differently. According to our social status we shouldn’t interact with those below us, but God says there is no one below us – or above us. Look for the buts in your life – I’m looking for mine because that’s what’s keeping my head above water.

much love. sheth.

1 in 10 Lepers Thankful.

by ShethChristianity / Life / WorkLeave a Comment on 1 in 10 Lepers Thankful.

Since I was laid off almost a year and a half ago I’ve really been struggling with a lot of things, but they all seem to center on God. I don’t necessarily blame my layoff from the church on my downward spiral – certainly it was part of the whole, but there’s been a lot of stuff before and since that has taken me to where I am now.

I thought about it today and the best I can describe it is like this: my life a year and a half ago was just a few small pieces of yarn all bunched up. It was crazy and confusing and a little messy, but for the most part it could be sorted out and all the loose ends could be tied up. Now, though, it seems like I have a lot more little strings in that pile of yarn – some are frayed, broken, burned; others are thinned out and barely recognizable. I’ve been looking at this pile of yarn – my life- for quite some time now, and it’s just been freaking me out. It’s a huge, unmanageable pile and I can’t find a beginning or end anywhere. It’s just a big knotted mess.

That’s my life right now. I’m a big mess. I am horribly in debt and feel like a financial failure. I have a son that I don’t know. I have two parents who are aging and it’s a little (or a lot, actually) scary to see. I have no employment, or hopes for employment. I have a gigantic crack in my windshield. My car is miraculously losing oil somewhere. Nearly all of my relationships have crumbled. Divorced.  And my faith in God is waning by the day. A big knotty mess.

I’ve struggled with God because it seems like He’s never there, or, He’s there but He’s just not helping me out. Certainly there are more important things in this world to be handled than me and my whining – famine, war, poverty, hatred. But I don’t know, I guess I was under the impression that God would be there for me when I needed Him, you know? I’ve struggled with the whole ‘ask and it will be given to you’ thing. I haven’t even been asking greedily. All I want is a job – I want to earn an income to deal with all the other stuff in my life. I’ve begged and pleaded, but I seem to get nowhere. In the past year and a half I’ve had one job interview. (I know the economy’s bad, but isn’t God more powerful than the economy?)

And so, with this struggling faith and seemingly lack of response from God, everything else has just built up on top of everything else, making my knotty mess an even bigger knotty mess.

With much prodding from some friends and family I decided to at least go to church. I snuck into the Presbyterian Church five minutes after it started and sat quietly in the pew. I didn’t sing along to the songs. I didn’t do the responsive readings. I didn’t let my mind wander about inspecting the construction of the room. I focused on the sermon and ducked out the second it was over.

The message was on the 10 lepers found in Luke 17:12-19. Jesus and the disciples entered a village…ten lepers saw Jesus and said “Jesus, Master, have mercy on us” (KJV). Mercy…they asked for mercy…the Greek word here is eleeo from eleos meaning ‘compassion’ – they didn’t ask Him to heal them. They asked Him to show them compassion – kindness, care…recognition. These men were standing far off – not just from Jesus, but from everyone. Their family members, other villagers, visitors, animals – everything was far off from them. All they wanted from Jesus was a little recognition, a little kindness, someone to actually acknowledge their existence.

And Jesus did them one better. He not only spoke to them, he told them to go and show themselves to the priests (since the priests were the ones who determined who was clean and unclean from leprosy). He did more than look their way; he did more than they asked. He healed them. He restored them to their families and friends. He brought them back from the outside and gave them a new life. He gave them what they really needed; what they really wanted in their heart of hearts.

Honestly, my problems aren’t solved. I have more questions now than I did before. I’m still lost, confused…messy. I don’t know if Jesus is going to do one better than what I’m asking for. I don’t know if He’s going to answer any of my prayers. I don’t know if my relationships will be healed, if I’ll ever get a job or get out of debt or find out where my car’s oil is going.

All I can do is wait, keep talking to Him and wait some more. I’m a big knotty mess. But sooner or later it’ll all be straightened out.

much love. sheth.

Spare Some Change?

by ShethChristianity / LifeLeave a Comment on Spare Some Change?

“I remember when Mrs. King and I were first in Jerusalem. We rented a car and drove from Jerusalem down to Jericho. And as soon as we got on that road, I said to my wife, ‘I can see why Jesus used this as a setting for his parable.’ It’s a winding, meandering road. It’s really conducive for ambushing. You start out in Jerusalem, which is about 2200 feet above sea level. And by the time you get down to Jericho, fifteen or twenty minutes later, you’re about 1200 feet below sea level. That’s a dangerous road. In the days of Jesus it came to be known as the ‘Bloody Pass’. And you know, it’s possible that the priest and the Levite looked over that man on the ground and wondered if the robbers were still around. Or it’s possible that they felt that the man on the ground was merely faking. And he was acting like he had been robbed and hurt, in order to seize them over there, lure them there for quick and easy seizure. And so the first question that the Levite asked was, ‘If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?’ But then the Good Samaritan came by. And he reversed the question: ‘If I do not stop to help this man, what will happen to him?’” (I’ve Been to the Mountaintop Speech, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. 1963)

There’s a man that stands on the southbound off ramp of Hampden that flows on to Wadsworth. I’ve seen him there every time I go by there. He’s there in the same dirty clothes – an old pair of ragged boots, oil-stained, dark blue jeans, and a t-shirt too large for his frail frame. His beard is shaggy and unshorn, dirty and grey. His face is a hollow, sagging picture of what used to be. In his old, gnarled fingers he holds a sign which pleads for help of any kind.

And I don’t know what to do. I’ve been told that you should never give money to the homeless because they’ll just blow it on alcohol or drugs. I’ve been told that it doesn’t solve the problem, just adds to it. I’ve been told that people need to get into a system, a home or some shelter, before they should receive help. I’ve been told that people need to know about Jesus first, and the salvation that He can bring, before they should receive help.

But I’ve been told that I need to help my fellow man. “Give generously to the poor, not grudgingly, for the LORD your God will bless you in everything you do.” (Deuteronomy 15:10 NLT) “John replied, ‘If you have two shirts, give one to the poor. If you have food, share it with those who are hungry.’” (Luke 3:11 NLT)

To be honest, I can’t imagine Jesus saying, ‘Hey, I’d love to give you this sandwich and wash your feet, but first, let me tell you who I am and how you can have everlasting salvation through me.’ Maybe I’m wrong here, but Jesus took care of the physical needs of those he was helping first. Jesus never said, ‘I’m not going to give you any help because you’ll spend it on wine and prostitutes.’ I believe he just helped the people, knowing that the help was needed. And he knew what the outcome of the results were going to be.

When I drive past this guy I usually have an ashtray full of change. I don’t need it – it sits there for months on end never being used. But I fail time and again to give it to this guy – or anyone else that needs it. It’s really quite messed up, actually, because if it wasn’t for my girlfriend and family, I’d be right where he is. I’m literally one good fight away from being kicked out on the street, and I’m so selfish right now with my money that I won’t give away a few pennies and dimes in my ashtray.

I don’t want people to treat me the same way I treat this man, but why should I expect any less? If I’m not helping him, why should other people help me? Why do I think I am I above this man? I’m no greater than he is, no better than he is, no richer than he is. I’m one day away from being in his shoes.

I don’t want people to look at him or (God forbid) me and think, “If I stop to help him, what’s going to happen to me.” I want them to think, “If I don’t stop to help this man, what will happen to him?”

much love. sheth.