Tag Archives: love

In The Meantime…

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(Been pretty quiet here. Just a lot to process. Still struggling to find words, but…}

I’ve been conflicted for some time now…years, probably. Over and over, talking to people and realising that their Jesus and mine isn’t the same…that their Jesus sounds like an absolute monster and I get why they would walk away. And then I wonder if I am just part of the problem…with my inconsistencies and fears, my not wanting to offend/hurt people, not wanting to be yet another voice in the chaos–claiming to be representing God. I just…dunno.

No one has been kinder to me than the Lord. No other love has so pursued me when I’ve run away, been so patient with and through my sin, so calmed me on days when I want to bang my head against a wall until it bursts, so listened to my fears, so let me be my weird self, called me out of darkness and despair…I don’t quite have words. I just know this song says so much of what I’ve been struggling with for years.

Also? Benjamin Hastings is a genius.

A Crisis Of Faith (Part 2 of…?)

29 Tuesday Nov 2016

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One of my favourite people ever is agnostic. Strangely enough, he has done more for my faith than just about anyone else in my life. We have difficult discussions, perhaps made more challenging by the difference in our worldviews. As much as I wish he would return to a place of faith, I can’t deny the world needs more people like him–those capable of independent thought, not stemming from rebellion, but a genuine thirst for knowledge.

A common theme in our discussions is that he thinks my faith is…unshakeable? He once said he can’t picture me at a place of not believing God exists. For some reason, this has always baffled me, perhaps because belief in God’s existence does not imply it has any effect on one’s life. Perhaps because of the gulf that has always existed between my head and my heart.

I think, to him, it’s hard to perceive the love of a God whose existence you have much reason to question. For me, it’s hard to deny the existence of a God whose love you can’t escape, despite your best efforts. That’s probably the hardest thing to explain: that I’m not a Christian because I’m awesome and I just love this Jesus Guy so much, but because I honestly suck, and He hasn’t backed down from that.

In the face of relentless love, it would be intellectually dishonest of me to say God doesn’t exist, but what does an acknowledgement of His existence guarantee? Can’t I know He exists, but not give a hoot? Can’t I live as if He doesn’t exist, as if I’m sovereign, as if what He says doesn’t matter? I can. And I have. That is the story of my life and my faith journey. Almost 20 years in, I’m still a colossal wretch, but isn’t that the point? Isn’t that what the Cross shows us? That we are all far from awesome, but it’s not a deal-breaker? That we are tansformed, not by understanding we are wrong, but by understanding we are loved? That God, who is Love, is willing to walk with us…as we are?

That’s a hard concept for many people, especially Christians, to grasp. Maybe that’s why I don’t know how to talk to people about this Jesus I know…because He might not be the same one you have heard about. Maybe you’ve heard about a ‘God’ whose love you have to work for, who is put off by your failings and the very stench of your humanity, who dangles the idea of salvation like a carrot, but is really waiting for you to screw up enough for him to cut you off. But, that’s not my God. If He were like that, I would have been cut off years ago…because I’m not joking when I say I’m a sinner.

I’m definitely not a good person, and I probably break more of God’s laws than many people who don’t even believe in Him. I’m detached and callous, I have anger issues, and if the morality police decided to come after me? Life sentence. There is nothing about me that qualifies me to be a Christian, and I’d be an even bigger liar if I told you I could change. It is not in me to love God, or even to love people well. I care, but only as much as my built-in resistance allows. I’m about as far from perfect as you’re likely to find on this planet, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

I am a sinner. And that is why I need Jesus.

But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that, while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Romans 5:8 (NKJV)
New King James Version®. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson.

 

A Crisis Of Faith (Part 1 of…?)

30 Wednesday Mar 2016

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Eighteen years. That’s a long time to be anything, especially a Christian. For the better part of those eighteen years, I was in an environment that encouraged my faith, and made it possible for me to develop an identity that wasn’t rooted in meaningless religious exercise. I was never taught that my faith made me a better person than those who didn’t share it. As a result of that faith, I developed a worldview founded upon the indisputable value of each person, and tried to live accordingly, though not perfectly.

Over the past eighteen months, I have been caught in a struggle. I don’t consider myself to be what I call an obnoxious Christian, so I don’t believe in shoving my faith in people’s faces or down their throats. Some may see this as being ashamed of being a Christian, but I honestly don’t see what in mainstream (Western) Christianity merits such pride. More importantly, I could not see what in my own life was worth being proud of.

I have moved from a safe faith environment to one that doesn’t readily seem to offer any place for the faith that has moulded so much of who I am. Thankfully, I am surrounded by some of the most amazing people I have ever known, but that encouragement in matters of faith has been missing. Some of these people don’t even see God as worthy of the least significance. Does that make them bad people? Definitely not. But, it made me have to step back and view my faith through different eyes. This place has done more than challenge me–it has revealed the absence of a living faith.

I was (and, in many ways, still am) in possession of a faith that had yet to transcend my intellect and make its way into my heart. You see, I fully believe in all Jesus has done for me, but I had closed my heart to what He wants to do in me. I had woefully neglected to live out the very principles I claimed to hold dear. It took being away from the comforts of home for me to truly appreciate that my faith is worthless if it does not lead to a transformed heart. If I am not growing in my love towards people, if I deny others the same grace gladly extended to me, if I am not kind in the way I think about others, then how am I being Christian (like Christ)?

Now, I’m in a vulnerable spot–and vulnerability is not my strong suit. Surrounded by people who have accepted me, but appear to have little use for my Christ, all my inconsistencies are out in the open. To be honest, this is exactly what I needed…not a faith I can hide behind, but one that calls me to true love and openness.

It’s so ironic that it took being away from my Christian circle to reveal the deficiencies in my faith, but I’m grateful and humbled. Grace has found me in this place, and I trust it to lead me home.

 If the faith I claim to hold has not taken hold of me, it is less than genuine…and so am I.

Eating My Words/Challenging My View Of Men

29 Tuesday Sep 2015

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If you spend enough time around me, one thing becomes clear: I’m frank–often painfully so. Spend even more time, and we’re bound to arrive at one of my core conclusions: men are wicked. I am not a bitter female, I have never been in a relationship or had my heart broken, I’ve never been on either side of unrequited love, and most of the guys in my life are simply amazing. But, I have seen enough to be aware of the kind of havoc men wreak on society, especially women, when they don’t stand up to the enormous task that is manhood. That, to me, is more than enough cause for caution.

“Men are wicked.” For the past year or so, I have been increasingly uncomfortable with this philosophy, even as my exposure to the horror stories has increased. Are men wicked? Yes. Is it any less wicked to hold that idea as a baseline? No. I have six nephews, two godsons, and several friends with young sons. I cannot bring myself to see any of these males as wicked, even though I know they will grow up and imperfectly execute the requirements of being a man.

See, men are not simply wicked. They are also broken, as is all of humanity. If I zoom in on the wickedness, and ignore the brokenness, it makes it almost impossible for me to view men with compassion, especially in my thoughts. I have close male friends, and I’m pretty sure they think I’m more than slightly cynical when it comes to this, even though I think I’m merely stating the facts, just being my frank self. How do I characterise men as wicked without inadvertently including all those men I love and respect?

Statistically, it’s frightening. So many men are simply not stepping up, and there doesn’t seem to be much hope for this generation of men. It’s easy to think that decency, integrity, honour, and fidelity are things of the past. Still, how am I helping by reducing men to the ones who are not worthy to bear the name? Whether I want to admit it or not, labeling men as wicked makes it easier to dismiss them altogether. It is as destructive as those women who would hold men to no standards whatsoever, simply because they are afraid of being single.

So, what do I do now? I would like to renew a commitment…to love and support the good men in my life, to encourage their efforts, and view them with honour. More than that, though, I will no longer define men by facts. I have no doubt men will continue to be wicked, but I must also remember that they are broken and human, just as I am…that every man was once a vulnerable little boy…that the odds are stacked against them, and even society doesn’t expect much of men. I will no longer add to that lack of expectation, difficult as it is likely to be.

I must remember that men were designed to be living examples of strength founded upon love and protecting the vulerable. I must honour what is there, look for and celebrate the good, even when I do not see it.

Where men fill the purpose and design of men as the Bible has outlined it, humanity flourishes, and where men refuse to step into the space that men are called to fill, the world burns.

                                        Matt Chandler

Disclaimer: This is an entirely separate issue from a man’s suitability as a mate (standards matter), and I remain happily and gratefully single…no need to get excited (you know yourselves). 😛

I Told Myself I Wouldn’t Do This, But…

28 Saturday Mar 2015

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I am Jamaican. I am a Christian. I am heterosexual.

And, I am deeply wounded by the way in which some Jamaicans, Christians, and heterosexuals are navigating the whole issue of homosexuality. Then again, maybe that’s it. Maybe, in the minds of those who so readily disregard gay people, they’re not even people–just an issue. Perhaps, in those minds, they’re the ones who are going to lead children astray, teach them that being gay is normal, force us to live in a world in which it is commonplace to see two men or women engaging in rather public displays of affection. Maybe they’re afraid, but enough is enough.

Who gave us the right to act as God’s mouthpiece, when we’re busy misrepresenting His intentions? Under whose authority do we decide that ‘the world’ that ‘God so loved’ did not include gay people? How do we live so comfortably with the idea that so many men and women are afraid of being true to themselves, because to do so would mean risking ostracism and even death?

It is indeed incredibly sad that so many people, Christians included, would rather focus on issues, all the while missing the very people involved. It is even more distressing that principles God laid down out of love for us, out of His commitment to our joy, have become fodder for cannons of condemnation. It is an injustice that God has so patiently given all of us time to come into the light, that He so relentlessly pursues us even after the light has found us, yet we want to cram truth down people’s throats in an effort to open their eyes.

I have had enough. Enough of young men being killed because a mob decided it wasn’t okay to be gay in their presence. Enough of ‘men’ forcing themselves on women in an effort to ‘straighten’ them. Enough of young people committing suicide because they were bullied for being gay. Enough of Scripture being flung at people, as if truth were meant to be wielded like a sword. Enough of this ‘them vs. us’ mentality. Enough of the notion that the fullness of the expression of grace reveals itself in heterosexuality–as if being straight offers any measure of protection from immorality.

We will never get anywhere until we move past the gay and start seeing the people. Maybe some of us will have to have gay sons, daughters, friends, uncles, nieces, etc., before we put a face to homosexuality. Maybe we already do, but they’re too afraid of our rejection. Maybe, like me, you will have to have someone you love and treasure be almost killed by law enforcement officers–and for what crime? Sitting on a park bench beside someone of the same sex.

Can we please stop pretending that being gay is the end of the world? Being gay does not make you more evil or less of a person than anyone else. It does not mean you decided to tell God and society to go self-fornicate, just so you could live your life. It does not mean you’re not special, beautiful, gifted, funny, insecure, angry, sad, hopeful, and anything else that fits on the spectrum of emotion. Being gay does not make you any less human.

We don’t all have to agree on how to approach life, but if we can’t agree on the sanctity of life, where is this civilisation of which we speak?

Something More…

25 Tuesday Jun 2013

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It is no secret that, of all the things I’ve done with my life, living hasn’t been one of them. From time to time, the reality of my mortality works its way into my consciousness, and there’s that inescapable question of when (whether?) I will finally learn what it means to live. Finally decide to live.

Whereas I’ve missed out on so many things that were quite within reach, none of those things, or any combination thereof, had the power to shake me up by virtue of its absence. Usually, being unshakable is a good thing, but when you’re Lori? Not so much.

Discontent has somehow managed to provide the illusion of safety–as if I needed further proof of my insanity. Oh, to step out of that wretched yet beloved prison of my own carving. To taste even the tiniest morsel of the elusive entity we know as freedom.

To be more than a wounded soul most at home in its own poison.

To remember You.

And now, Lord, what wait I for? My hope is in Thee.

Psalm 39:3 (KJV)

Great

Image source

 

Sabotage

17 Wednesday Apr 2013

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Fear is one of those things I don’t process well. I just don’t have many active fears. I have huge categories of fears, and then they morph into…aversions. 😛 Weird as it sounds, I think I have an aversion to “good”. As soon as my life begins to look up, as soon as I begin to make smart choices, something in me retaliates by finding the quickest way to sabotage it.

I think this would be easier to handle if it were deliberate. It is so intrinsic and so entrenched in the essence of Lori that I very often don’t see it outside of the lens of retrospect. But, I see it now. I’ve seen it before. And, I can’t change it. Maybe that’s what I need to embrace. Left up to my own devices, all I can do is kill myself, succeed only in depriving my soul of one breath at a time.

And, you know, part of me says this shouldn’t be so. I mean, I’m smart enough (I reckon), I’ve known God long enough, I have enough amazing people in my life for this to not be who and what I revert to with such ease. I know God saw this–saw me–coming, and still chose me. Gladly. He didn’t choose me to remain as I am, though. He chose me to remain in Him. But, I don’t…won’t?

Maybe that’s it. Maybe it’s the same plight plaguing all of humanity — that innate core of rebellion against the Creator. Whatever the case, I can’t keep living as if God is a liar…as if the life He offers is somehow on a plane that ought not to impact and define my everyday life. I cannot persist in the distorted reality I call ‘grace’, for if grace were seen correctly, if grace were my reality, would it not spur me on to abundance of life? To obedience? My head gets grace, but my heart? Well, that story is perhaps best left untold.

So, why continue to kill saplings of anything good and beautiful in my life? Why act as if my worth is such that I’m most content within the confines of Suckville? Why, if I love myself as much as I’m convinced I do, won’t I give myself the best possible chance at life? Or, any chance, for that matter?

I can’t be alone in this…well, I hope not. Undoubtedly, I’m extreme, but there are elements of sabotage in each of us. How easily we tend towards our own destruction. Overcoming that tendency may lie outside of our reach, but there’s nothing to stop us from embracing it…and giving it to the Only One who can make us into what we were designed to be.

O Israel, you have destroyed yourself; but in Me is your help. I will be your king: where is any other that may save you…?

Hosea 13:9, 10 (KJV [paraphrased])

My Jorge, one of the best friends a Lori could ask for, gave me this song. (Fine, her name is Georgia…and how much I love her? No words…) Like, she’s all sunshine, rainbows, and pink rooms sometimes, and I kinda thought the song was along those lines, but it’s…sneaky. Maybe it’ll sneak up on you, too. 

I Tell Myself…

07 Friday Dec 2012

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…what I want to hear…and then I tell myself I don’t want to hear it. By then, it’s already too late, and I’ve managed only to dig myself deeper into this hole I tell myself I want to come out of.

…what I don’t want to hear, and then I use it as an excuse to not do anything about it…”Oh, at least I know what the problem is”, and then I tell myself that’s progress.

…that I’m changing, perhaps finally growing up. After all, if I can perceive the lies I tell myself, it must mean I’m moving in the right direction.

…that I’ll never change, and this growing up thing is yet another doomed seed planted in the fertile soil that functions as my imagination. After all, if I can perceive the lies I tell myself, yet hold on to them, it must mean I am even more of a moron than I thought.

…to hope and dream. How else will my soul catch those much-needed breaths? Of all the things I tell myself, this is perhaps my least favourite.

…not to hope and dream. How else will my heart remain in the seclusion that guarantees my sanity? Of all the things I tell myself, this is perhaps the most dangerous…

…I love You, and then I tell myself I’m wrong.

…I don’t love You, and then I tell myself all the reasons I must be right.

…to shut up, for it is long overdue.

…to talk to You…and that just may be the best thing I tell myself.

Thus says the Lord:“The people who survived the sword Found grace in the wilderness—Israel, when I went to give him rest.”

The Lord has appeared of old to me, saying: “Yes, I have loved you with an everlasting love, therefore with lovingkindness I have drawn you.

Jeremiah 31:2, 3 (NKJV)

The Holy Bible, New King James Version Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc.

The Power of Weakness

03 Wednesday Oct 2012

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What do you do when you get to the end of yourself? What will it take to get you there?

It’s funny how I’ll know something is true, but spend years denying it. I know I can’t be trusted. As much as I appear to have it together on some levels, there’s just something in me that tends towards my own destruction–gleefully.

Even knowing that I can’t be trusted to do something as simple as brush my teeth every night or take a shower every day (most days, though. Teehee), I still want to get things right. I want to be strong enough to resist the things I know I should stay away from. Why? Because I know I should stay away from them. I want to not do what I know is wrong. I want to be strong, but I’m not. I’m terribly, terribly weak.

Not only am I frail beyond my own comprehension, I also delight in things I ought not to. No matter how I try to deny it, no matter how I take refuge in the illusion of improvement, this is who I am.

But, this is good news–excellent, even. I can’t make myself different. There isn’t going to come a day when my desires will suddenly line up with military precision to the standards of morally acceptable conduct. There won’t be a day when I wake up loving God above all, and hating sin (general or specific) to the point of utter repulsion. It’s just not coming.

It doesn’t need to.

See, when I stopped trying to fix myself, and just embraced the reality that I am truly wicked, I had to fall on God’s mercy. All these things I ought not to do will never fade by human effort. Only God can change me. God, who loves me as I am, just wants me to look into His eyes and give myself to Him, wretch that I am. That is where the fullness of joy comes from … from seeing God and knowing He is Love … from facing the reality of my own brokenness and the incomparable greatness of the God who makes all things new.

So, what’s your story, your “struggle”? I won’t say it doesn’t matter, but it is not the hindrance you may think it is. God knew us in advance, and He chose us. He saw that we’d fail, saw that we’d watch pornography, have sex when we shouldn’t, have homosexual desires, have abortions, kill, rape, steal, hate, lie … saw that we’d willingly and gladly worship all but Him. He saw that, and He loved us … still loves us.

He saw us, and He chose us … He delights in us through Jesus, as we are.

Let’s just be honest with ourselves. We’re not gonna beat those things, and the sooner we face it, the better. God longs to bring us to Him, to transform us as we fix our eyes on Him. He is the goal, not acceptable behaviour. Let’s be honest with God. Let’s be honest with each other. We suck, and it’s okay.

I dare you. Open up to God. Open up to someone about your struggles, someone who will pray with and for you … someone who will love on you. See where it leads.

Perhaps the first step to freedom is facing the power of our own weakness.

Waxing Poetic

05 Wednesday Sep 2012

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Most people who know me think I have quite the aversion to all things romantic. Whereas they’re not entirely off the mark, it’s more of a matter of being realistic…okay, with lots of cynicism thrown in. Point? I honestly don’t feel as if I’m missing out.

To this day, I still haven’t found anyone I’d reprogram my mind for. The closest I’ve come is saying to my sister, Felicia, that I’d marry her if she were male and we weren’t related. Why? You’d have to know her to understand. My mission today is to give you a peek into the lovely world of all things Fel.

Drive me crazy? ✓

Make me smile from depths of self I didn’t know I possessed? ✓

Finish each other’s sentences? ✓

Communicate without words? ✓

Remind my heart (dubious as its existence is) of what love feels like, just by the simple act of taking in oxygen? ✓

I could go on. Everyone needs a Fel… like, seriously. It’s so much bigger than the Bank of Fel phenomenon. It’s the way she lights up a room with a smile…the way she’s everyone’s self-appointed “fave”…the way her feet aren’t adult-sized…the way she walks around the house making noise for no reason…the way she delights in mischief…the way she can tick you off and make you smile in the same heartbeat.

I love my Felicia…and I miss her…and that’s what’s on my heart and mind today.

Is my family normal? A resounding no. Would I trade any of them for my greatest desire (whatever that is)? No. Each one is a gift. Know what I think? I think God knew I needed a Fel… and He gave me one. The same God who saw our need for Him (and gave us Jesus–best gift ever!) sees our need for human representations of His love, and He fills that need so beautifully. Be grateful.

If you have a Fel, say thank you. Thank you to that person who can make you remember how to smile … that person who can make you cry on a plane … that person who lets you enjoy being you, whoever you are.

So, not my best piece of writing, but I like it…because it’s about my Feliner…and I like her…lots.

Since I’m no longer on FB, I need a favour. All you nice people who are friends with Felicia, please share this link to her wall, or to your own wall. Just loud up di ting, so as many people as possible know how amazing she is. Who knows? I could get a brother-in-law out of this. She’s actually single…shocker. (A picture would be overkill…plus, she’d probably hurt me. Teehee.) OK, I’ll behave now. Thanks so much!

(P.S The title of this blog post was inspired by Felicia’s idea of how I’d express my response to the joy of her presence. Love you, Felpee! Thanks for loving me.)