Fear, love and freedom

"I will not fear
I will not deny Your love...
All of my life
I could not deny Your love."

When I sang these words for the first time, I didn't really think about them. It was about mechanics. Memorization. Music notes.

But music is so much more than notes. Words like these were designed to mean something.

They're from a song called "Freedom is here" by Hillsong United. It's a song to (and about) God.

When I started thinking about the lyrics, I thought they were about having courage to share my faith…to live for God. Maybe that is true. But maybe it’s about something more.

As I again contemplated the song lyrics above, I realized that when I live in fear, it can be a form of denying God’s love. Because when I live as if I know I’m loved, it’s virtually impossible to be afraid.

Let me explain...when people see me, it’s like they’re watching a little girl standing on the edge of a diving board. The girl who knows and trusts her Dad to catch her approaches the edge differently than the girl who doesn’t trust her dad at all…or the one who doesn’t believe anyone is in the pool waiting for her with open arms.

I’m not diving into a pool today, but every day I dive into situations, relationships, work…you name it. Do I jump with confidence? Or hesitate?

In the words of another musician (Dave Barnes—my fave—to be exact), “Where love is, fear won’t tread.”

I believe with all my heart that there’s a freedom found in Love alone.

Commitment, Phobia and Purity

Yesterday at our young adults' service, we had a time to commit to purity--abstinence for those of us who are single and faithfulness for those who are married.

I'll start by saying that I'm really glad we encourage commitment to purity. It is an important part of living a life that honors God.

I'm not sure how to phrase this exactly, but it kind of feels a bit strange to publicly recommit to purity every year.

Here's what I mean--I first made a purity pledge when I was 14. I was committed to it then as a way to honor God, my parents and my future husband--and I'm still committed to it now. I think the annual recommitment may feel a bit odd because I don't, for example, get rebaptized in water or respond to a salvation altar call every single year. My original commitments still stand there--why should a commitment to purity be any different?

The fear of commitment?

Maybe churches ask people to recommit to purity regularly as a sign of solidarity for those who are making the commitment for the first time ... possibly because too many young adults are too afraid to commit period, so we use the power of positive peer pressure to help them take a stand.

In general, I think our generation may have a wildly rampant case of commitment phobia. Why is it that so many twentysomethings are scared to commit to anything--attending a party, working at a great company for several years (even if it's hard work), volunteering, going to church or a small group regularly, getting married? You name it--it seems like a lot of people in our generation have a hard time making and keeping promises.

... Or commitment-light?

Or maybe the rationale for the broad purity recommitments is because committing to purity is something people take lightly--and therefore, the recommitment is to start over again or to simply remember a previous commitment?

There are statistics that show that although the percentage of people who save sex for marriage is higher for those who make purity pledges (a great thing), it's still (sadly) way lower than 100%. I wonder if some view purity commitments like they view committing to volunteering or attending a party--as in, "Yeah sure--I'll stay committed. As long as it's convenient for me ... or until an alternative comes around."

Is there a cure for the fear of commitment and commitment-light?

Maybe discussions about purity should start with talking about the power of a promise kept.

Personally, I have been extremely blessed to have grown up in a home where I honestly can't remember any time when Mom and Dad broke a promise--to me, to my sisters or to each other. None of us are perfect. But a couple who has stayed happily married and in love through 32 years of marriage definitely doesn't buy into the idea of commitment-light. Their example has taught me that commitment may not always be easy, but it's worth it.

I know my life experience is an exception (even in the Christian community). Most twentysomethings have lives touched repeatedly by broken promises--in their families, in broken friendships or in failed romantic relationships. If someone hasn't experienced the power of "no matter what" love and commitment, it might explain why they are afraid of it ... or doubtful that it's possible.

Perhaps the cure for a generation plagued by commitment phobia starts with a greater understanding about God's character--and the fact that He always keeps His promises. Maybe some Christians haven't realized exactly how much God is into commitments with us. And though some of His commitments (like salvation) have to do mostly with His grace, others are more dependent on our obedience.

One thing I know for sure is that God always outgives me. Obedience may seem demanding at times, but the rewards God promises--things like long life, prosperity and wisdom--always outweigh the costs.

Lead by Love...and The Beast

This past Saturday I was exiting Target, happily leaving with a birthday present, two multi-packs of perppermint Orbit gum (my fave) and a new hair dryer when this woman stopped me. She handed me a pamphlet which I later recognized as a Christian track. She didn't say anything to me, so I simply took it and threw it in my shopping bag.

When I got home, I took the pamphlet out of the bag and decided to take a closer look. The result was both disturbing ... and kind of hilarious, so I thought I'd share some of the pictures in this track with you.

"The Beast"

Here is the cover:

It's hard to see here, but all three of these people (including the baby) have "666" imprinted on their foreheads and the woman in this picture is crying. Wow.

Let's imagine for a second that I was a non-Christian, happy Target shopper twenty-something. Would I really want to read this disturbing looking booklet?!?

Here's a page from the inside:

Okay, aside from the cheesy artwork, does this picture above really represent "Life as it is today"? I'm thinking no. But wait...there's more:

Yes, the world may be messed up. But when was the last time you really saw someone shouting, "I have the power...Lucifer is Lord!" in the middle of a restaurant? Anyone?

And if a non-Christian was reading this, do most of them know anything about Noah besides the fact that he had a big wooden boat? Why would they even care whether or not "Today's conditions are the same as it was in the days of Noah"?

And yet one more picture:

Yes, these are real verses from the Bible. But the pictures are really scary. And then there's my favorite part--the mini commercial at the bottom for another lovely track by the same company who produced this masterpiece.

Lead by Love

Joking aside--this approach to witnessing bugged me and here's why:

• It was impersonal.
  
  The woman who handed me this track didn't know me or care to try and get to know me. She didn't even say, "Hi. What's your name?" before handing me a disturbing piece of literature that attempted to change my worldview and eternal destiny.
  
  
• It's irrelevant.
  
  Yes, this booklet includes things based on Scripture. But the presentation (a tacky black-and-white booklet) and representation of today's society don't ring true with 99.9% of people. And to a non-Christian, a lot of it looks kind of far-fetched and kooky (there are other drawings of wolves wearing clothes, angels and flying scorpions).
  
  
• It was designed to motivate out of fear.
  
  The key pitch of this booklet is, "The world is evil and scary. Accept Christ so you can go to heaven." That might be true--but is it an approach that connects with most people? It is an approach filled with hope and love?
  

It would be easy to judge the woman who handed me "The Beast" and her style of witnessing. But I'm sure there have been times when I've been impersonal or irrelevant to someone, too.

This experience made me again realize the importance of leading by love, as Jesus did. Caring about people, listening to them and getting to know them. Exemplifying hope, love and compassion. Because something tells me He wouldn't walk up to a stranger, hand them "The Beast" and walk away.

What NOT to say to Christian singles

I have some pretty incredible friends. And over the years, we've talked (and laughed) about all the weird things Christians say to singles.

So this post is a little commentary on what not to say to single people ... no matter how spiritual it may sound.

1. "All you need is a willing guy."

This comment was delivered to one of my good friends (who is happily dating now, by the way) in front of an entire graduate-level class at a Christian university where she (as one of the few single people) found herself the object of her classmates' curiosity.

This comment is wrong on so many levels--it basically implies that "willingness" to get married is the main quality my single friend should look for in a guy--but doesn't she deserve so much more? This comment implies that my beautiful, smart, fun, and amazing Christian friend is too much (or not enough?) for a cute, smart, fun and amazing Christian guy to handle--and that she should resign herself to someone who's just simply "willing." Ugh.

2. "Why is a great guy/girl like you still single?"

While intended to be complimentary, this question is annoying because:

• It implies that perhaps there's something wrong with the single person that's keeping them single (maybe ... but maybe they just haven't met the right person under the right circumstances).
  
  
• It implies that singleness is completely a choice up to the individual--as if one day you magically wake up and say, "I'm a great girl and I don't want to be single anymore" and then poof! Mr. Right shows up and wants to marry you. I've never seen it happen this way...
  
  
• Single people don't usually like to be reminded of their status. Asking this question is like saying, "Why does such a great person like you have X illness?" (and I used the word "illness" because I think that's how some dating/married people sadly view singleness).
  

3. "God must still be working on something in you before you get married."

This statment is probably true. But isn't God also continually working on all of us (married or single)? This statement implies that to be married, you must be completely mature (spiritually, emotionally, financially)--which is pretty much impossible with imperfect people. There are some things you probably should have in line before you get married...but it's impossible to be completely mature and perfect in every way.

4. "How old are you? You better get married soon before all the good ones are snatched up...and don't you want to have kids?"

Again, this comment implies that we are in complete charge of our (single/married/parental) status. Yes, odds are that "options" decline a bit after time. And most of us don't want to be first-time parents in our 40s. But isn't God bigger than any human timetable? Doesn't He know what's best for our lives? Speakers of these types of comments are not speaking out of faith, but out of fear or doubt in God's provision for their single friends.


5. "Singleness is a gift. Celebrate it."

Okay, I can see that the speaker here wants to be encouraging. Yes, when you're single, you have freedom to travel, volunteer more, make independent decisions, etc. But I don't think singleness itself is a gift--life is. Some people may feel called to a life of singleness (like the apostle Paul), but probably not the majority of us. If God put a desire in your heart to be married, you probably don't have that call. For you, singleness is a season. I think those of us in that boat should make the most of this single part of of our lives' journeys, but it doesn't mean we have to dig our heels firmly in and throw a (pretty lame!) party to celebrate singleness.