I have been following this blog for a while, but I love it so much more after watching this video.

So backwards..

Just outside, Brother Jed and his wife are preaching hate, condemnation, judgement, eternal suffering, etc.  

The Pride Alliance club, a self-proclaimed safe haven on campus for the LGBTQ community, are wearing angel costumes a la the "angel action" groups that have been combating the protests of the Westboro Baptist Chuch.  

The angels are holding a big sign that says LOVE.  

Just now I was trying to find out if the angel wing groups have an official name (Angel Action was the closest I found).  This led me into a string of articles about all the funerals Westboro has protested in the past year or so.  The one that stuck out to me was the funeral service for Christina Taylor Green, the 9 year-old girl who was killed during the shooting here last year.  Leader of Westboro, Fred Phelps, was quoted in this article saying, "Thank God for the violent shooter." 


That makes my heart cringe and my whole body ache along with it.  It makes my head pound thinking of how someone could say that.  The reason members of Westboro gives for waving their signs at funerals is to warn those still alive to repent before it is too late. 

But how are people supposed to hear that message when their hearts are aching and their heads are pounding from anger?  How do groups with this kind of message expect to be trusted when they are insulting the ones they are attempting to deliver?  

I wish I had the courage, like I have seen of other Christians on campus, to walk up to Brother Jed and ask him please to stop.  I want to tell him that just like me, these students are broken and hurting.  I can't say he isn't accurate when he shouts out to passersby that they are lost, but I can say that it is probably the last thing they need to hear and the last thing they would respond to.  They need to be told what the hope is, not that they are hopeless.  They need to be told they are loved, not that their actions warrant God's judgement.  They need to be told of the freedom that comes from Christ, not made more aware that they are in chains.  They need to be given the fix, not reminded that they are broken.  

I loved watching a man the other day stand in front of Brother Jed and say so lovingly but firmly to the crowd, "This is not what God is like.  Please do not look at this man and see all Christians.  Unlike Brother Jed, I promise not to judge you, so please don't judge me when I say to you that I love Jesus.  And I don't love Jesus because I will go to hell if I don't.  I love Jesus because he rescued me.  Please don't think that this is what all Christians want to say to you.  What I want to say to you is that I am sorry for when people like this preach hate at you, because Jesus taught love."  

I am angry that a "Christian" voice on campus is proclaiming hate and that it will be the LGBTQ community, not the followers of Christ, who will be known for their love. 

I can't wait to see what the view from the top looks like.

When I'm talking with my middle schoolers, sometimes I feel like I am teaching to myself.  Part of that is probably because there are nights when I am the only one in the group listening to anything I say.  I have found that sixth grade girls have a longer attention span than sixth grade boys, but not by much.  I think a bigger reason for it, though, is the richness of truth.

I've had this feeling of teaching myself multiple times, but never as apparent than during our discussion this week of the main point in Andy Stanley's book, The Principle of the Path.  

It is direction, not intention, that determines our destination.  

For a good half hour, we discussed goals and choices and how much more fun it is to watch TV than to do homework.  At the end, I challenged my girls to ask themselves this question:

Does this get me closer to or further from my goal?

We have a lot of goals, even if we never write them down or even verbalize them.  I think this is what Andy Stanley means by intention.  Of course I intend to be a good person.  Of course I want to be godly.  I know I should complete all my homework.  I hope to love all of my friends well.  I would like to be healthier, thinner, more disciplined.  I've always wanted to be responsible with my money.  

But what do my actions say?  I know what my end goals are; I know where I want to be... but what direction am I walking in?  Am I actively moving towards those ends, or am I accidentally moving away from them?  

A man I have learned many life lessons from gave me this wonderful analogy when I was in high school.  He said that life is like a hill, steeper in some places than others, and we are a car trying to drive up it.  Even if we put our car in neutral, we are going down the hill.  We get tricked into thinking that doing nothing means going nowhere, but it is even worse than that.  Neglecting to be intentional about our choices doesn't just mean that we aren't getting closer to our goals.  It means we are actually getting further from them.  Even if the front of my car is facing the top of the hill and I've got my eyes on the prize, I am going to be rolling backwards down the hill if I am not actively working to get up it.  

It is direction, not intention, that determines our destination.

Today I came home from work and ate a moderately healthy lunch.  At the sight of some leftover cake sitting on the counter, I decided I would treat myself to some after I ate.  A tiny voice in my head reminded me that I am planning on going to Applebee's later, which would be a less healthy meal, so I didn't need the cake.  A louder voice said, "Meh.  I want cake."  I cut myself a smallish piece and sat down to take a bite, when I discovered mold on the cake.  After I got my freakout out of the way (I almost PUT that NASTY in my MOUTH!), I laughed to myself.  This is going to be easy if cake is working with me for once.  

And I wish that was true.  I wish that cake I shouldn't eat always became inedible.  I wish the unhealthy food didn't taste so wonderful.  I wish the food would always run out before I was able to eat too much of it.  But it isn't.  The easy choices don't give resistance.  It is easier (and seems like a whole lot more fun) to roll down the hill backwards than to fight up it.  But after making all the easy choices, you are left at the bottom of the hill.  

This is the conclusion my girls and I came to on Wednesday.  The easy choices are easy, but the difficult choices are worth it.  I want to be at the top of the hill.  

Hebrews 12:1

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith, let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.