Practically a Vegan

 

 

 

 

 

 

Asparagus, the main course. I love sauteing it in olive oil and garlic salt. (Is saute the right cooking term? I know not these things as I am merely a poser).

Tea, Mandarin Orange Spice. It’s an herbal tea with no caffeine. I had a somewhat adverse reaction to too much caffeine earlier today in one and a half cups of coffee coupled with a cup of pomegranate green tea. No more caffeine for me.

My roommate, Cynthia works at the best bakery in the world and it’s right down the street from my apartment. Anyways, she brings home fresh bread twice a week and I’m so spoiled by it. Going back to bread machine bread is going to be a challenge. This bread (above) is so sweet that it doesn’t need anything with it, nothing at all.

Yes, dessert. Oranges for dessert. Who would have ever thought this would happen??

There it is! My Friday night feast! It’s been kind of a chaotic (moderately rough) day so finishing with a healthy meal feels like something went right, like I didn’t completely fail today. I’m exaggerating of course.

Also, in my defense, I said I was practically a vegan. I would miss eggs and fish too much. And my roommates and I are planning a steak dinner in the near future. I guess I’m not quite a vegan after all, just a poor college student young professional.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mary

I had a conversation with my apartment neighbor, Mary, today. She mostly talked. I mostly listened. She told me where I could get an oil change, how she used to have a bigger garden until her husband ran off with another woman, what she does and used to do at “the college” (UMW). I think I became more mindful of the potential for these conversations to happen after my friend Krystle told me about her encounter with her grumpy neighbor. Not that Mary is grumpy though she does have a reputation as the “crazy plant lady.” I don’t know. Even that, saying that I don’t know is an unnecessary expression of doubt.

I do know. I know that if I’m faithful in listening and inviting Mary to church, my roommates to bible study, having meaningful conversations with my co-workers, God is able to work through me. Even if I don’t see the fruit produced by these encounters, I need to continue to be obedient, to be uncomfortable. I hate pushing people to do things they don’t want to do. However, it makes me feel deeply unsettled when they don’t do the things towards which I’m pushing them. Reading Radical and listening to David Platt speak makes me more aware of the urgency, immediacy and importance of the gospel. Sometimes I feel like I’m trying to give away something that no one wants. What a lie. What I have is not something trifling, it’s essential that I tell them the good news because really, who else will?

In other news, I purchased sunflowers yesterday at the farmer’s market and they are gorgeous. I really think that flowers are the only decoration one needs.

“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul.” John Muir

Life After College Death

Yes, it is rather a curious title. “College Death” is a term that my roommates and I coined for the end of a four year long season that I fondly call college. In fact, right now, I’m sitting in Blackstone staring at my college. It’s hard to feel sad that that season is over. This is just the way of things. I did feel very sad and anxious in the weeks that immediately followed and preceeded graduation. I couldn’t even explain to myself why I felt the way I did (see previous post). I couldn’t write. I couldn’t read. I couldn’t process what was happening. After all, post mortem is a paralyzing state, regardless of what type of death you are experiencing.

The other night, I had a realization. I was at a very crowded ice cream social with the girls in my college/singles group from my church talking to Abby Swauger, the little sister of my mentor, Liz Swauger. She said [she’s attending CNU in the Fall], “I feel like I’m approaching the best four years of my life and that is a little depressing. What happens once it’s over? What do have to look forward to after college?” I think this speech would have summoned a sigh and a shrug a few weeks ago but not anymore! I replied with an air of great wisdom (so I thought), “The thing about college is that forming relationships and acquaintances and friendships is so easy just because they’re so accessible. You’re surrounded by similar minded people who want to form relationships with you. Crazy, right? Yes, crazy. You shouldn’t need college in order to make meaningful friendships. The truth is, it takes effort to make and maintain relationships. I’m still learning this lesson; learning what it means to be in the body of Christ, to love my church unconditionally, to invest in people where it seems like there’s nothing there to invest in.” Believe it or not, I said this to her. Then I told her that that epiphany came then for the first time.

As a Christian, I believe in life after death. It only seems appropriate that there’s life after college death too.

I think I’m starting to figure out what that means.

Anxiety

This blog is supposed to be a place in which I have massive revelations about God and myself, where I never struggle for answers–rather, where I struggle but ultimately there’s a happy ending, a comforting closing paragraph, a realization.

Today, I don’t have that. I’m not doubting God. He is still my sovereign King (getting to that point is a separate post) but I am unsettled, unnerved. I feel like there’s something pressing on my chest right above my stomach. It feels tight sometimes and fluttery sometimes as well. I’m thinking it might be connected to the two coffees that I had this morning in my five hour stint at Blackstone. Caffeine affects me pretty severely. Although really, I feel nervous, like I’m about to give a speech in front of a large audience. Public speaking kills me (ironic that I did Speech and Debate for four years).

I don’t know why I’ve fallen into the pattern of only blogging when life is good and God is good and things fall into place. That’s a fallacy.

I don’t allow myself to be anxious anywhere outside of my head. If that’s dishonest, so be it. For once on this blog, I’m going to be honest in the trough (peaks and troughs are an apt way to describe my emotions), I feel anxious.

Is this where the comforting conclusion goes? Where I realize how to get rid of this feeling?

The truth is, I don’t know.

Revision:

“Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God, for I will yet praise him, my Savior and my God” Psalm 42:5

Unlimited



Last night, two friends and I went to go see a movie, this movie in particular. Brief synopsis from IMDb: A copywriter discovers a top-secret drug which bestows him with super human abilities. As his usage begins to change his life, he begins to consider the drug’s shadowy origins; meanwhile, a group of killers trails his every move.

My thoughts? It was interesting, bold, edgy BUT lacking. SPOILER ALERT! There were so many sources of tension that combined to really set you on edge (and the rest of the theater as well). However, the protagonist, Eddie Morra kept on finding new stashes of ZFT. Where was he getting all these pills? You’re given to think that there is only a limited supply but then–the stash in the seashell and the huge stash in his closet (I think, don’t hold me to this) and dramatically, the one final pill in the tea tin. It strains credibility and has the added effect of making you the viewer want Eddie to be a drug addict forever. Without the drugs, he dies. With the drugs, he’s handsome, smart, popular…but wanted by hired assassins.

Here’s what I think would have improved the movie. First, the drug, as it turns out, is not FDA approved. It’s got to have more side effects than just making the person have black-outs and forget to eat. I’m thinking what if he became super paranoid to the point where he “had it all” (whatever that means) but wasn’t satisfied because there was always someone following him. In this film, there really was a man hired to follow and kill Eddie. What if there was no man??

Second, the ending was terrible. The moral of the story was that if you’re on ZFT, then life’s great. Eddie even finds a way to get off the drug and his synapses adapted or whatever. I’m not buying it. We saw what happened to Melissa, his ex-wife, and the Hank Atwood character. They were either forever changed by it or died. They actually dealt with the consequences of being super-human. Eddie though? No, he really did get it all (according to the world’s standards). We left him drug-free, running for the Senate with presidential ambitions, and with his lover, Lindy, all goo goo for him. Eddie didn’t earn this ending. By being a drug-addict who would do anything, I mean anything to get more ZFT, he won the game. He got the girl and the power and the money in the end. In the world’s eyes, he had a Hercules moment and was crowned god (there’s even a line in the movie in which it is said that the drug makes you a god).

What if, instead of happy, satisfied Eddie, the movie showed us him leaving his confrontation with Carl Van Loon and then he pops a pill. Roll credits. That undermines everything he said to Carl because he’s still addicted therefore still in physical and bodily danger. Also, why does Lindy come back in the end when she told him earlier that he was a different person with ZFT and she doesn’t know that person. How can someone who’s operating at twice normal human capacity be satisfied with someone who’s obviously not able to keep up? The movie placed an emphasis on Eddie’s need to constantly move forward coupled with a nice scene in which he’s talking to brokers about countries like Portugal that overreached and suffered the consequences. Why are there no consequences for Eddie?

I’m thinking that the makers of the movie showed the film at a screening in which there was a different, less happy ending, and they whined and complained about it. Thus the sugar-coated ending that this viewer is left with and left without dramatic resonance.

Where are we heading?

In Joan Didion’s collection of essays, The White Album, she titles one of the essays, “On the Road.” This section resonated with me not necessarily because of the content but because of the refrain that echoes over and over throughout the piece, “Where are we heading?” In various forms, it reoccurs subtly asking for more than a physical destination. It invokes the abstract idea of destination and prods the reader to answer these questions, Where am I headed? Where were we heading? Where are we heading?

I was in one of the International food aisles at Wegmans a few weeks ago staring at the cans of custard, Red Rose tea, and pondering whether it would be worth it to buy Jaffa cakes at their imported price. A girl approached me, complimented my dress, asked me where I got it. Oh, New York & Company? A few years ago? That’s too bad, I was hoping to find one for myself…do you live around here? You go to school at Mary Washington? That’s so nice. You’re an English major? Do you know what you want to do? You’re exploring your options, that’s good. Oh, missions? Yes, I do have a church that I attend. It’s very small. Well, I can see that you’re a smart, articulate person. I am a part of a network strategy company and we’re looking for people like you. Oh, you’re busy? That’s okay. It was nice meeting you. I hope to see you again.

I saw right through her strategy: compliment, find personal connections, compliment, etc. And yet, when she asked me what I want to do next, my cheeks flushed, I became rather inarticulate, I didn’t know. Why did I feel compelled to answer honestly? Why was I even talking to her?

It’s March of 2011, the year that I finish my undergraduate degree. I’ve loved my college experience and the sheer diversity of it. I was immersed in campus ministry life for the first two years. It was my source of community and I thrived within it. Then, I went to Bath for a semester and when I came back to school, things were different. I had no leadership responsibilties that spring outside of those I imposed on myself. It was then that  I began to dip my feet into Encounter and once I tried it, I immersed myself into Encounter and Spotswood (they’re mutually exclusive) with the same passion that I brought to the campus ministry in which I was involved. I praise God that he changed me from a para-church loving, real church hopping, commitment phobic, immature child into a real church loving, slowly maturing leader at Spotswood. God brought me to Spotswood. He used his servants to invest in me and help me to realize that being a Christian outside of the Church is a dangerous game. The Church is how God makes himself famous in a dark, broken world.

That’s my undergraduate experience–God helping me to understand that church membership is not an optional part of Christianity. It’s essential. But now, I’m here on the cusp of graduation wondering where am I headed? Ultimately, I know the answer to this question. I’ll answer it the same way that Joan Didion answered it in her essay, she said “I’m heading home.” Me too, Joan. Me too.

In the meantime though, I’m instructed by Scripture to:

[…] let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

Hebrews 12:1-3 ESV

I have a vague idea as to what this race will look like–serving through a church. Where though? I’ve lately been convicted by something Mark Driscoll says in his book, Vintage Jesus,

The answer is for Christians to love the city, move to the city, pray for the city, and serve the city until Jesus returns with his city from which all culture will emanate throughout the new earth (158).

Serve the church in a city. Yes, I can do that. Doing what, though? God, I want answers. Oh wait, you don’t deliver answers faster than a spicy chicken sandwich at Chik-fil-a? That’s outrageous! Oh, what’s that?

More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope…

Romans 5:3-4 ESV

I’m probably being a bit melodramatic thinking that this uncertainty I’m currently facing is a form of suffering. For what exactly am I impatient? Opportunities to serve God? I have them abundantly. A secure job to pay off loans? At the dentist yesterday, the hygienist told me how her son got a practical major at Virginia Tech and already has a job months away from graduation. What do you want to do? Where are you heading, she asks.

Oh, seminary? That’s nice. As a creative writing major, I’m sure you’ll write great sermons. You don’t want to be a pastor? Women’s ministry, maybe? What does that mean? You’re not sure. Oh.

That’s how these conversations end. I don’t know. They wander off towards other safer topics. I want to be the type of person that trusts so much in God, that’s looking to Jesus so entirely that I forget cultural expectations and just does things that the world considers to be impractical, illogical, stupid. If what I am doing makes sense to the world, I’m not living out my faith because faith doesn’t make sense. Faith is irrational.

What if I just jumped? What if I trusted that God would be there not to cushion my fall with material comforts but with all the things that he promises his children in his Word? With joy, peace, love, righteousness, hope? These are things that no one can take away. If I prefer to cling to my uncertainty, to my anxiety, to my compulsion to plan, I forsake those promises. I tell God that my worries are bigger than he is.

Where are we heading?

I don’t know but I’m willing to go.

Ransomed

Ransomed: That is, to buy back someone from bondage by the payment of a price; to set free by paying a ransom. “Ransom” was a technical term for money paid to buy back a prisoner of war. Here it is used of the price paid to buy the freedom of one in the bondage of sin and under the curse of the law (i.e. eternal death). The price paid to a holy God was the shed blood of his own Son (John MacArthur Study Bible).

As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, you also be holy in all your conduct, since it is written, “You shall be holy, for I am holy.” And if you call on him as Father who judges impartially according to each one’s deeds, conduct yourselves with fear throughout the time of your exile, knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.

1 Peter 1:14-19

I was under the curse that came from Adam and in which I was a co-conspirator.

I was a prisoner of war. Satan owned me. He owned my thoughts, my fiery spirit, my will, my desires, my worldview, my attitude, my talents, my failures, my heart. I was his. While I belonged to Satan, numbed by sin, I thought I was free. I thought that I was my own master. Oh yeah, I thought I was a Christian. It’s amazing how Satan is able to deceive one so easily into thinking that. No, truly belonging to Christ is so much more than words wrenched from my mouth because of external expectations from my family and my upbringing. It’s so much more than that.

I was an ignorant slave.

I am ransomed. A price was paid to secure my freedom from my bondage. Gold and silver weren’t doled out. Worldly currency wasn’t enough. In fact, nothing in the world could remove the curse for which I was responsible. I loved my sin. I thought it was just an expression of my “independence.” I thought I was a “passionate lover.” If I lashed out in anger, I was more genuine or more honest and ultimately, the recipient of my anger would thank me. I was a lover of justice delivered by my own hands and my own words. I was a lover of myself.

I was a slave but I was purchased, purchased by the blood of the Lamb. Jesus loved me passionately, honestly, completely. He saw my sin and pitied me. He knew that I didn’t know any better. He asked his Father to forgive me and the Father did that. I can trust in that promise.

I was ransomed from futility. If I didn’t have faith in Christ, I would be the very worst of offenders. I would cling to vain intellectualism and knowledge, seeking affirmation from others that would never be enough. I would scoff at Christians, throwing stones and laughing in their faces. I would look at their faith as an exercise in futility. What’s the point? There’s no Christ. He was a good person but mostly a figment of the imagination of hopeful, naive people. I was saved from those futile thoughts and from the meaninglessness of a life apart from purpose and God’s love.

“You shall be holy, for I am holy.” He called me to be his. He wants me to look like him; to reflect his glory to some small extent.

My understanding of this is that I am called to seek those who think that they’re free and tell them the truth. They’ve been lied to. Nothing in the world satisfies. Since we are created beings, the only source of fulfillment can be found in God, the Creator. He knows everything about us! In this collection of essays that I’ve been reading by author Joan Didion called The White Album, she interviews a young woman who wants to be a famous movie star. More than that though, she wants to be known. That’s what we all crave though, isn’t it? That’s why we invest in relationships. Through these connections with other people, we can fulfill that craving temporarily. However, it is God who knows us better than anyone else. He knows every shortcoming, every sin, every mess that we’ve created in our own lives and in the lives of other people. In the words of Christian from one of my favorite movies, “Moulin Rouge”:

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.

John Piper has a famous saying that he develops in his book, Desiring God:

God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him.

Our relationship with God is reciprocal. It’s not a one-sided effort on our part to appease his wrath (thank goodness). No, Jesus took care of everything when he paid the ransom on the cross. When all my sin was imputed to him and his righteousness was imputed to me, I became worthy in the sight of a most holy Father. Father! Abba! How incredible is that? I did absolutely nothing to deserve this righteousness. In fact, I did everything in my limited human power to not deserve it. In the parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15:11-32, I was the older son who made every pretense of being a religious person but I was lost, owned by Satan.

Thank you God for the Lamb who stood in my place and took the punishment that I deserve.

Thank you Lord for ransoming me.

What Matters?

God’s timing is great. Period. He knows the things I’m going to encounter and struggle with and he equips me in how to deal with these things beforehand. God is awesome. I’ll climb down from my lofty abstract place to which I have wandered and explain what I mean. Today in church, the pastor preached a sermon on why being a member in a local church matters (now I’ve just answered the question posed by the title of this post). I got home and my roommate had just woken up an hour before that and missed church for the second week in a row.

I’m not judging. I’m not judging. I’m not judging. I’m not judging.

Did you get that? I’m not judging her. I am concerned though. This is not me gossiping through a prayer request. This is me explaining what happened next. God allowed me to have a conversation with her in which the Holy Spirit affirmed her–I think. My roommate is kind of a closed book in many respects. She has a lot of thoughts and blogs about these thoughts sometimes but rarely do I get insight into her discouragement and faintheartedness (I know this isn’t church or Middle Earth but I’m going to throw that word in there anyways). Today I think I glimpsed it. I came back from church all excited because of how pertinent I thought the sermon was and then bam, I got to apply what I had just learned. God, you are awesome.

I took notes in the sermon and I’m going to jot down these notes here because it’s my blog so don’t read it if you don’t care. So there. Didn’t you read my About Me section? There, I said I don’t want life to be about me, I want it to be about Jesus.

In our commitment-phobic culture that we’ve developed in 21st century America, being a member in the local church is crucial. Scripture reinforces this:

But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. 1 Corinthians 12:18

Though we as Christians are all part of the universal church (we are one body, one body in Christ, and we do not stand alone, no we do not stand alone!), we are empowered by God to be members (body parts) of the local church.

1. Membership in a local church is an expression of obedience. In Colossians 4:16, Paul tells them to share the letter with the Laodiceans. This indicates that when Paul planted a church, we expected certain things from that local body of believers. You have to be involved in a local church in order to receive instruction, accountability and reproof. 1 Timothy 5 includes instructions for the church. It tells believers to help widows and talks about elders within the context of the local church. (The church is derived a group of individuals, not a building or a pastor or a meeting). Finally, in Ephesians 4, verse 11, evangelists, prophets, shepherds, etc are leaders whom God has appointed to serve the church, by which I mean the local church body.

2. Membership in a local church is an expression of a physical relationship.

[T]hat there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. 1 Corinthians 12:25

The word ‘care’ suggests that there is a physical intimacy between members. Dr. Drew and other Spotswood pastors like to throw around the phrase “life on life contact.” We can’t have that meaningful contact outside of a church community. When we have relationships with our sisters and brothers in our church, we have accountability. In Sunday School, we talked about the vulnerability of taking communion in a really small group. If we have unconfessed sin in our lives and do not take the bread and wine/juice but pass it on to the next person. We’ve just told the group that something’s going on. Also, being a member of a local church allows us to use our spiritual gifts biblically.

To each is given the manifestation of the Spirit for the common good. 1 Corinthians 12:7

3. Membership in a local church is an expression of submission. We submit to what God says in his Word about membership in a local body of believers and in that way, we bring God pleasure. We honor our Father and glorify him when we obey him.

4. Membership in a local church is not a spectator sport. Being “fed” is not the point of church. If we judge a church based on how well we think that we are being “fed,” church becomes a means of bringing yourself pleasure and will ultimately be a fruitless search. Every single member of Spotswood has a vital role in Kingdom ministry. We are to take what God has entrusted to us and use it to further God’s Kingdom. That’s why we need church. We need a context for our spiritual gifts and other blessings (e.g. money).

5. Membership in a local church is determined by an accurate presentation of Biblical truth. Since the Bible is the only source of truth, church membership should be based on whether or not that church is preaching from the truth.

The Litmus Test: I don’t live in Fredericksburg but I would like to get plugged in to a local church. That’s great! Please do! First, check to see if the church you are considering joining does the following:

A. Preach, teach the Word of God?

B. Define a clear process for becoming like Jesus?

DS 106 Reflection

Okay, after exporting my blog and importing it here, I found that playing on WordPress is quite fun. So, approximately two hours later, I’ve remembered that I need to write this here reflection.

Why I took the course: I owe all fourteen weeks of fun and joy (too much?) to a former ds106 student by the name of Katie Jones. She endorsed it so strongly that not only I ended up in @jimgroom’s class, but also our other roommate, Sadie Smith and two of our other friends as well. I got to participate in ds106 the semester before I was enrolled when Katie recorded me telling a “boring” story (sound familiar?) right after I woke up from a nap. Then she made me sound like a crazy chipmunk on helium. Dearest roommate of mine, you inspire me.

Best Part: I discovered my love for video editing through ds106. Confession time, during the summers growing up, I “wrote stories” using PowerPoint. Good ol’ PowerPoint. Old school, right? I loved the slide transitions, the fonts, the ability to incorporate animation. The videos I made in this course bring me back to that first love. Despite working with inferior technology most of the time (dang Windows Movie Maker), the things I was able to produce, I am extremely proud of. My Lord of the Beans/Rings mash-up, my Doctor Who homage, my Shakespeare in Love commentary are all things that I love showing to other people.

Bestest Part: I really like how ds106 lets you tell whatever story you’re interested in telling. No boring prompts, no limiting assignments, no syllabus (wait, you say there was one…?) to cause us to gripe and complain. Nope. We were handed a toolbelt, a how-to book (the internet) and told to go off and create great things. I saw some amazing work done by my fellow students this semester. Lindsay’s mash-up is a given. Sadie’s project website is truly amazing. The red door just pops off the screen, doesn’t it? Finally, Morgan’s cooking website was fabulous. I was so hungry every time I visited her page.

Like @jimgroom said, DS106 rocks.

A part that is seeking improvement: hm, this is a tough one to answer. I’m not saying that because I’m sucking up. I just prefer to look at the positive side of things. I could say, “I struggled a lot with figuring out how some of the specific technologies worked”…thinking back to the beginning of the semester when I was thinking some less than kind things about @jimgroom. But, those were not insurmountable issues. @Jimgroom was always available to help me sort through those issues (thanks!).

I think the classroom dynamic is something that could improve. We liked to talk in the beginning of the semester when we were reading the articles and digesting what they were saying…then the talking stopped. I like classes that have a huge discussion component because I like to engage the ideas and hear other input in a non-online environment. That said, next semester’s class that is entirely online is going to be interesting to say the least.

Since I said I like video so much, I’ll leave you all with one final Youtube video:

 

 

Thinking about my homage

I was surfing the interwebs looking for some entertaining (and perhaps useful) Doctor Who videos when I stumbled across this guy, Charlie McDonnell.

He is what one might call, a YouTube personality. According to his site, “Charlie McDonnell is an English Video-Blogger and Musician from Bath (yay Bath!), who currently resides in London. Known on YouTube as charlieissocoollike, he is currently the most subscribed YouTuber in the United Kingdom, with just under 600,000 regular viewers. Currently, he has amassed over 70 million total video views. He is 20 years old, and does not enjoy small talk.”

In other words, he’s a hilarious and British–best combo ever. In my search for Doctor Who vids, I found one that this Charlie guy made. I believe it would fall under the category of homage (“a show of respect to someone or something” -Wikipedia). Check it out: