Truth be Told

So I was browsing a new website I found that offers Bible reading plans and various devotionals, when I stumbled on the following article from 2009. It took a minute to sink in, but inevitably left me feeling like I'd been socked in the gut.
I only wish I had read it sooner.
When I look back on 2010, I get a sinking feeling. I decided to post the article here as a reminder that the upcoming year can be different. I want to look back on 2011 with the knowledge that I really loved others, not regret for having "fought" but not LOVED.

Why It's Easier to Fight Than to Love
Russell MooreShare this February 2, 2009

J.D. Trout says we need to be our brother’s keeper. The Loyola University philosopher is leading the charge these days for “empathic policies” that will narrow the divide between the rich and the poor. Trout agrees with President Obama that the United States government has an “empathy deficit,” and he’s written a book called The Empathy Gap to call us to a new era of empathy. He writes a blog called “The Greater Good” that calls for things like putting more supermarkets in poor neighborhoods.

Oh, and he hasn’t spoken to his brother in about six years.

Trout’s view of brother love was explored in a short but to-the-point interview in this week’s New York Times Magazine. Trout argues in the interview for a social policy in which Americans move away from the “hedonic vomitorium” of consumerism and toward a new commitment to others. When asked why his book says nothing about the role of churches in caring for the poor, Trout says: “The concerns addressed in the book–improved education, health care, existence above the poverty level–are too important to be left to the tender mercies of charity.” But then the interview takes a personal turn.

Journalist Deborah Solomon asks the empathetic philosopher if he is his own brother’s keeper, and clarifies that she means his, well, real brother. Trout acknowledges that he hasn’t spoken to his brother in years.

This answer is telling, though not because of the particular details of the story. Trout’s brother sounds like a horrible guy. He owns strip clubs and the philosopher (rightly) disapproves of the way this treats women. The brother also wouldn’t visit when Trout would come home from college (too busy at the strip bars). What’s telling is the way the philosopher dismisses what seems like his own close-to-home lack of brother-keeping, and what it tells us about how all of us can so easily do the exact same thing.

Trout says his estrangement from his brother is “no big deal” even though he is a national spokesman for empathy.

“In the biblical norm, I don’t read ‘brother’ as meaning your blood brother,” he explains. “We have an obligation to give to as many people as we can the opportunity to be successful, whether they are your own kids or kids that are otherwise invisible to you.”

It’s easy to shrug our shoulders and dismiss this “national spokesman” as a hypocrite. But, before you do, notice here one of the strategies of hypocrisy, because we’re all vulnerable to it. Trout doesn’t reject the idea of love and brother-keeping. It’s hard for him to do so because those concepts are embedded in his conscience (Rom 2:12-16).

Instead, he “fights” for love and empathy, but defines that as advocacy for government programs, not personal, local relationships in his own home. He is able to gain the felt experience of loving his brother by advocating for people who are “invisible” to him.

It sure helps to love invisible people. That’s why one rattles on and on about “The Family” while neglecting his kids. That’s why another “fights” for “social justice” by “raising consciousness” about “The Poor” while judging his friends on how trendy their clothes are. And that’s why one pontificates on “The Church” while rolling his eyes at the people in his actual congregation.

“The Family” never shows up unexpected for Thanksgiving or criticizes your spouse or spills chocolate milk all over your carpet; only real families can do that. “The Poor” don’t show up drunk for the job interview you’ve scheduled or spend the money you’ve given them on lottery tickets or tell you they hate you; only real poor people can do that. “The Church” never votes down my position in a congregational business meeting or puts on an embarrassingly bad Easter musical or asks me to help clean toilets for Vacation Bible School next week; only real churches can do that.

As long as “The Family” or “The Poor” or “The Church” are abstract concepts, as long as my interaction is as distant as a government policy, they can be whoever I want them to be.

The Spirit warns us about this. Jesus lit into the Pharisees for “fighting for” the Law of God while ignoring their financial obligations to their parents, all under the guise of their religious advocacy (Mark 7:10-12). The Apostle Paul tells us that a man who doesn’t “provide for his relatives, and especially for members of his household” has “denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever” (1 Tim 5:9).

And James, particularly, shows us the difference between “fighting” for a cause, and loving people. “If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, ‘Go in peace, be warmed and filled,’ without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that?” (James 2:15-16). “Be warmed and filled” is advocacy; “get in here” is love.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m for government policies to protect the family and to care for the poor. J.D. Trout probably has a lot of good ideas as to how to do some of those things. I’m for missions activity for people I’ll never see or know. But I have to remind myself that “fighting” for such things is a great deal easier than loving those people, the ones God has put around me in my house, my neighborhood, and my church.

Truth is, apart from the transformative power of Christ, we’re all something like the empathy expert. We want to live by our self-crafted motto, “I am my brother’s keeper (some restrictions apply).”

Merry Christmas, Cicely Style

I'm a huge fan of the 1990's TV classic, "Northern Exposure." The episode, Seoul Mates, won an award and is, in my opinion, one of the best Christmas shows ever made. I wish I could have found the entire thing, but this clip is pretty good. I hope you enjoy it. Merry Christmas!

"Drink Me"

It was all very well to say `Drink me,' but the wise little
Alice was not going to do THAT in a hurry. `No, I'll look
first,' she said, `and see whether it's marked "poison" or not';
for she had read several nice little histories about children who
had got burnt, and eaten up by wild beasts and other unpleasant
things, all because they WOULD not remember the simple rules
their friends had taught them: such as, that a red-hot poker
will burn you if you hold it too long; and that if you cut your
finger VERY deeply with a knife, it usually bleeds; and she had
never forgotten that, if you drink much from a bottle marked
`poison,' it is almost certain to disagree with you, sooner or
later.

However, this bottle was NOT marked `poison,' so Alice ventured
to taste it, and finding it very nice, (it had, in fact, a sort
of mixed flavour of cherry-tart, custard, pine-apple, roast
turkey, toffee, and hot buttered toast,) she very soon finished
it off.

`What a curious feeling!' said Alice; `I must be shutting up
like a telescope.'

And so it was indeed: she was now only ten inches high

---------

When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.)
The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)
Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”
“Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?”
Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

I don't know how long it took for me to shrink to the height I am now... inside...

and I don't remember who first asked me to drink their poison, the world's poison, though I'm fairly certain that it wasn't "marked poison" either.

I'm just thankful that Jesus offered this glimpse into His unending love that restores

even the smallest Alice.

Perserverance Shmerserverance

Sometimes quitting is the best thing to do.
My husband and I quit smoking over 2 years ago and we couldn't be happier.
I recently quit school, again... and I think it was the best decision.
I'm constantly setting goals for myself that result in nothing but pressure, stress, confusion, and ultimately madness for me and everyone around me. And WHY?
(I'll have to get back to you on that one. I also decided to quit obsessing on things that can't possibly improve my life.)
So, today I'm celebrating the right to QUIT! It is highly liberating.
My friend and I went to an art show yesterday where I saw some decorative "To Do" lists. They had phrases like, "Kiss like you mean it", "Drink Great Wine", and "See the World...from a bike!"

In light of my recent decision to embrace freedom,
I would like to present my "To Quit" List.
Here goes...

To Quit:

Self Bashing
Seeking Approval
Putting Off My Music
Avoiding Fun & Messy Art Projects
Being Irritated By My Children
Refusing to Take Walks
Expecting Perfection from My Husband
Letting Good Books Collect Dust
Hating How I Look
Letting the Enemy Tell Me How Dumb I Am
Trying So Hard
Letting Days Go By Without Laughter


Oh, and I'm also going to quit eating junk (Vegan Diet in 7 days and counting.)

Wine Cork Cross

I have a habit of saving wine corks and foil tops from the bottles. After filling an entire coffee can with corks, I decided it was high time I did something with them.
So, the other day, after I finished my coffee, I laid them out on the counter and began fiddling...

This is the result.


Oh... and today I bought a burrito. It was delicious.

Welcome to my world

I sat at a group meeting the other night with 3 other women who know the meaning of pain. One of them said that I haven't allowed myself to have a voice.
So, here it is. My blog. My voice.
I don't know what I'll have to say, but I'm going to allow myself to say it.

Today I'm struggling with depression and self pity. I wanted a burrito this morning and should have bought one, but I didn't. I spent the majority of the day pouting about not buying one and, instead, downing enough calories to support a small battalion.
Not burrito calories.
Cheez-It calories.
Cookie calories.
Banana-which-was-most-certainly-not-a-burrito calories. And then I felt shame.
So goes today.

I pray that tomorrow is, well, sunnier. Although, I prefer rain.

Welcome to my world.