A Monster Within Me

Today I have been sick for 9 months.

Most of the time when I tell people how long it's been, people give me a really weird reaction. They extend pity and sympathy, which is kind, but it's not what I'm looking for. I see this as a milestone; while I'm not happy about my circumstances, the joy of the Lord penetrates the worst of circumstances. He redeems the worst people and the worst trials to make His beauty known. The nine month mark of being sick is evidence of that to me; I see not nine months of trial but nine months of grace.

My life has completely changed since getting sick. It started with a stabbing pain in my left foot in the way home from a road trip with friends, an unusual and alarming pain that wouldn't go away. I was then diagnosed with a neuroma. After a while it spread to two, three...six neuromas, an unheard of diagnosis. I was diagnosed with tarsal tunnel, a pinched nerve in my ankle. But the pain spread and became unilateral (both feet), then soon I had unilateral carpal, cubital, and tarsal tunnels--pinched nerves in both of my wrists, elbows, and ankles, respectively. Another unheard of diagnosis. It spread to my lower back, arms, and made half of my left hand numb. I was tested for frightening and untreatable autoimmune diseases. We ruled out rare conditions that cause a painful and short life. The pain got worse and continued to spread--my shoulders, my neck, my face. The doctors are stumped.

Daily life looks completely different now. It's structured around taking medications, putting everything on hold for doctors appointments, and canceling weeks of my life when I'm in too much pain to get out of bed. The braces around my back, elbows, and wrists restrain me like this disease has restricted my life. I know all too well the side effects of medications: getting dizzy and lost on an elevator, days of nausea, the cripling effect of brain fog, drunkenly falling out of bed, feeling like I'm losing my mind. Constant pain serves as a constant reminder for my imperfections.

I know the fear of not knowing what's happening to my body, if I'll ever be well again, or if I'll ever live a normal life. There's a monster inside of me, and I don't know its name. Is it eating me away? Or are the remedies I use to make it through each day what are destroying me? Should I fear liver damage from my medications or long term nerve damage from this disease? Should I fear for my life?

I hate this monster. I hate what it has done to my life. If I could kill him without destroying myself, I would.

But when I don't know what to fear, I learn not to fear.

I have lost many things from being sick. Opportunities, comfort, friendships, freedom, the ability to perform simple tasks, even my handwriting has changed. I say all of this because I have learned the following:

A thorn was given me in the flesh, a messenger of Satan to harass me, to keep me from becoming conceited. Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:7-10) 

I am incredibly weak, in some of the most practical and obvious ways. Some days I am too physical weak to stand and must be carried to the bathroom. Other times my medication changes my ability to think so drastically that friends and family must take care of me, help feed me, and walk me across the street because I am too sick to notice the oncoming cars. I go days, even weeks feeling like a stranger with a different personality. Even in the midst of this trial, I still struggle with turning to God but instead react to pain with anger and sin--I am so spiritually weak in the simplest ways. And goodness gracious am I emotionally weak, like I never knew I could be. I feel frail and worn out, I'm exhausted and sometimes feel hopeless.

I am not complaining. I am boasting.

God has allowed this to happen. This does not make me angry at Him. I get angry sometimes that I am sick, but He has continually shown me that He is still good. He allowed me to be sick because somehow, in a way I cannot understand, me being sick for 9 months is what glorifies Him the most. I hate the monster that reminds me of my fallen state and the imperfections of this world. My eyes are opened to a new level of suffering that so many experience much worse than I can comprehend, and I long for the return of Christ when sin and evil and pain will end forever.

I hate this monster, but I love the Father who uses even the worst evil to teach us of His love. I now know what depending on Him for daily bread feels like. I have learned to not trust my own plans for the future, whether it's plans for the weekend or the summer or my life, I never know what my health will be doing. With so many misdiagnosises and now being undiagnosed, I have learned not to lean entirely on my own and my doctor's understanding but take comfort that God knows everything. My Maker holds my health, and I'm learning to let that be enough.

I've prayed Psalms from the inside of an MRI machine. I've joked with nurses while they draw my blood and hook me up to IVs. I've almost fainted in a professor's office. I've been carried through a McDonald's. I've had to ask for help. I've had to let others love and serve me. I've seen people fail me and had to forgive them.

This is not the life I would have chosen, but there is a Savior who has chosen me for it. There is a peace that passes all understanding. I am as undeserving of this peace as I am of the grace that gets me through each day and the love that surrounds me and overflows my cup.

It's been nine months. Nine hard months, but nine of the richest months I've ever experienced. This isn't the anniversary of the day I lost something, but the day God moved my life in a direction I hadn't anticipated. As a Puritan prayer puts it:

"I rejoice to know that all things are at Thy disposal, and it delights me to leave them there."

Resting in the sovereignty of our Lord,
Happy 9 months.

Water is the New Sidewalk

The past six months have been phenomenal--I've learned so much, depended on God in new ways, made new friends, transitioned to a new phase of life, and grown up a lot. I love my life right now. 

About a week ago, I passed the six month mark on when a weird pain started in my foot. Since then the pain has moved to nearly every other area of my body; it has manifested in many different ways, I've been to more doctors than I can remember, tried more medications than I care to think about, and been tested for diseases I hadn't known existed. It's funny, though, how normal this all seems. Wearing braces, keeping track what of time I take what medication, limping, and planning out my days to avoid walking as much as possible is routine for me now. 

You can get used to doing what it takes to get by, but not the pain itself. I don't think you can ever get used to chronic pain--the stabbing pain with each step, the sudden sharp cramps, the numbness, the tingling, or the worry of noticing when something else is wrong. There are times when I feel almost hopeless--like my body is refusing to work, falling apart, shutting down on me and no one can figure out why. But I'm not hopeless, and I never will be. There really is a "peace that passes all understanding," a God-given ability to "rejoice in the Lord always," and a "joy [that] comes in the morning." 

Yesterday my pastor talked about Jesus walking on water and storms in our lives. He said that God allows storms for a reason, and when the reason is fulfilled the storm will end. He showed how when Peter focused on Jesus the storm was not important, and only when he his attention strayed from Jesus did he sink. Whatever the purpose of this particular storm, apparently it is not fulfilled. That is encouraging to me--I have learned so much already, and there is more yet to be learned. I look forward to the day when I can walk normally, run around and be goofy, not have to worry about having my orthotics and braces and all my medications each morning, wear whatever shoes I want, serve others instead of always being served, stand on my toes, prop myself up on my elbows, and not have to take breaks from sitting up to go lay down. But there is purpose for pain, there is joy in suffering, and every flare has that beautiful moment when I realize my pain has subsided. 

I've learned to depend on others. I've learned to discern when to ask for help when I need it and to suck it up. I've stopped caring about what other people think while I adjust my noisy back brace, limp, shake the bottle of Tums in my backpack with each step, look terrible because it took all my energy to get out of bed, and miss out on fun events because of my pain. Well, I should say, I'm learning to do all of these things. It's still a struggle, but one day I will get there. There is a time when the purpose of the storm will be fulfilled and the seas will calm. Until then, I will keep looking at Jesus and walking on water.

Well, limping on water. 

Protesting People Protesting

A few weeks ago, a 26 year old named William Carl Kapp decided to stand up for his beliefs and convictions in a very... odd way.

When Kapp passed an intersection in Iowa, he saw an elderly couple in their late seventies holding signs protesting abortion. The sign depicted a picture of the head from an aborted baby. The 26 year old pulled over, approached 77 year old Donna Holman, and grabbed her sign from her. He destroyed it until her husband walked up holding a video camera and calling 911. He said to Donna's husband and the video camera, "you can take as many pictures of me as you want, because I'm proud of what I did." They began to argue and Kapp said, "you know what that image is on there? that image is awful! Children do not understand when they see an image like that! A four year old child, how do you explain that? That's a headless baby!" The video shows Kapp calling his employer at a lawn care company, explaining how he would be delayed coming to work in the company's water truck. He told his boss that he saw something that he felt he needed to take care of, but will probably be delayed with the police.

I find this situation so interesting. Quite frankly, William Kapp's reaction shouldn't be shocking to us. He said the sign he destroyed was "awful," "horrific," and "obscene." Abortion is awful, horrific, and obscene. The point of graphic abortion signs is to show how grotesque the reality of abortion is. We should react in horror to images like these.

However, Kapp's reaction wasn't what the sign was supposed to inspire. He is being charged with stealing and destroying personal property, as he should. While it is shocking that someone would approach an elderly woman, steal something she was holding and proceed to destroy it, I find the way the Holman's reacted even more shocking. The video, posted by the Holman's, is called "Left Wing Extremist Errorist." Kapp shows no signs of being a left-wing extremist, rather he recognized the horror of abortion. He didn't use the terminology of left wing extremists--used the word "baby" instead of "fetus." At 5:52 in the video, Kapp shakes his head and asks, "Who is your God, man?" Holman's response left me speechless: "Well he's not yours. You serve the devil. You do his work."

Kapp looked stunned and didn't say anything for a few seconds. The heard thing about speaking about abortion is you never know where a person is coming from. If you say someone serves the devil for merely removing the sight of abortion from their eyes, how would they react if they had an abortion in their past? If they were responsible for an abortion? I think the pro-life movement would be so much more effective if we couple truth with love. We need to be sensitive with others. We need to display truth, but not in an abrasive, condemning way. If we come across as judgmental, they will retaliate. If our words sound violent, we should not be surprised if people tune us out or come back even more violently.

I am really saddened by this video, and I think neither person handled themselves very well. This is really challenging for me. When this happened, the Holman was angry. A stranger 50 years younger than him approached his wife, grabbed her sign, destroyed it, then repeatedly told him that he was proud of his actions. That would make anyone angry! But we are told to conduct ourselves with love even then, when it is hardest.

Everything we do to defend life will be futile without love. 1 Corinthians 13:

If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

What do you think the pro-life movement would look like if we conducted ourselves with the love described in 1 Corinthians?

Teen Mother Choices International

I've been looking for an organization like this for a while. Teen Mother Choices International is taking Pro-Life to the next level. They come along side of the girls who choose life and help them in the most practical ways, such as finding them a mentor, taking them through life skills classes, paying for childcare so the young woman can go to school, and even helping them out with taxes. I love how Christa March, the founder of TMCInternational, explains it:

"It's not about glorifying teen motherhood. It's honoring those women who have chosen to give their children life. And saying that we're going to help you do whatever it takes to be independent so you don't need anyone--not the government, not a bad boyfriend." 

I'm sick of hearing people say that we should look down upon teen moms because they were irresponsible to get pregnant in the first place. We've all made bad decisions, and we all have to live with them. If we as the church don't help teen moms, then who will?

"'Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven--for she loved much. But he who is forgive little, loves little.' And He said to her, 'Your sins are forgiven.'" (Luke 7:47-48)

The teens who choose life for their child deserve respect and honor. They could have taken the easy way out with abortion, but instead they did the sacrificial thing, put their own lives on hold, and chose life. Choosing life is not a one time decision, it's a commitment to making that decision everyday. They are laying their lives down for another, isn't this the greatest kind of love we're told to emulate?

"Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13) 

Stand With Teen Moms Day is on May 6, 2012, one week before mothers day, because teen moms became moms just a little earlier than most women. 

Lunchable

A couple thousand years ago when the Roman Empire was pretty big and Jesus was in the middle of preaching and doing miracles, something really incredible happened to a lunchable, twelve homeless guys, a little boy, and five thousand people.

The coolest lunchable-eating kid I could find
on Google Images. Look at that hair!

Jesus wanted to get away from people for a little bit, so he hopped in a boat. Generally boats are a pretty sure-fire way to get away from someone who's bugging you. I mean, I've never tried it, but you're completely surrounded by water and you have their boat, what could go wrong? Well, something went wrong for Jesus. 5,000 people ended up finding Him. If you don't know anything about Jesus, you need to know He has a heart of gold. Instead of being annoyed with His 5,000 fans/semi-stalkers, He had compassion on them and spent the day preaching and healing them. (By the time the healing went down they were back on land, thankfully. That would be tricky business.) In the evening the disciples decided it was time for the crowd to go away and get their own dinner. Instead, Jesus said, "They need not go away; give them something to eat." The disciples knew there were a ton of people there and they themselves were broke and homeless, they certainly couldn't feed 5,000 hungry people. So they turned to their best option for the crisis at hand: the little kid and his lunchable. They brought him to Jesus. 

The boy had five barley loaves and two fish. First off, that's probably not enough food for two people, much less 5,000! Secondly, barley loaves sound kind of gross, and thirdly, I'm picturing the fish raw and having sat in the sun all day. I certainly hope I am wrong, because that would smell terrible and be so gross. All that aside, a couple of pieces of bread and some nasty smelly fish isn't enough for 5,000 people, plus 12 disciples, plus Jesus! But the disciples, always being helpful, brought the boy to Jesus anyways. He told them to make everybody sit down and watch the Master. (Literally, Jesus is the Master. He's God.) 

That's right: lembas bread. 

"Jesus took the loaves, and when He had given thanks, He distributed them to those who had been seated. So also the fish, as much as they wanted" (11). Get this-- Jesus made a little boy's lunchable (which I'm still convinced sounds nasty) feed a few thousand people. It's like He made barley bread into lembas bread. All the people had to do was sit down and wait for Jesus to provide. All the disciples had to do was have faith that God can make the ridiculous happen. All the boy had to do...well, he didn't have much choice. I guess the disciples kind of stole his lunch. 

We hear all the time about how we need to be like the little boy, and give God the little that we have and let Him use it. I realized this week that this story is so much more than that. I am the disciples, going on wild goose chases because God says so without knowing or understanding His will behind it all. ("Write a book for teenagers about abortion while in high school? I have no credentials. No one would want to read it. Abortion is so controversial, my voice will be lost in the noise. It wont go anywhere." Nobody would have been fed if the disciples had listened to thoughts like these. Just do the little God tells you to, having faith that it'll fit into His master plan, which is incredible.) I am the five loaves and two fish--kinda gross, really smelly, but God will break me and make me into something He can use. Who am I to hold back anything? I can be a smelly lunchable or a feast enough for 5,000. I am also the 5,000, just sitting back and waiting to receive God's gift without ever considering the price that was paid for it or the power it required. 

"And when they had eaten their fill, He told His disciples, 'Gather up leftover fragments, that nothing may be lost.' So they gathered them up and filled twelve baskets with fragments from the five barley loaves left by those who had eaten" (12-13). When God provides, He doesn't provide just enough. He provides an incredible abundance.

Bonus round: when searching for a picture of lembas bread, I found a recipe. I love the internet and the nerdy people who inhabit it. And while finding the lunchable kid I discovered that pocket espresso exists. I'd say this was a successful blog post. 

October Baby: March 23!

The hardest part about pro-life work is treating it correctly. On one hand, abortion violently kills an innocent child. Meanwhile, the people in abortion clinics as employees and as scared girls who feel they have no other option are real people who really exist, not baby killing monsters. At the same time, countless women suffer silently from the pain of a past abortion or abortions. When educating people about abortion, what should our attitude be? Do we treat abortion like a genocide, like the holocaust? Do we speak about it sensitively and avoid talking about the baby all together as not to hurt a woman who has had an abortion? There are so many examples of people and organizations and articles (probably some of my own) veering too far on one side or the other.

On March 23 a movie called October Baby is coming to theaters. When I first heard of the movie a few months ago I was incredibly skeptical. I tend to be wary of Christian movies, music, and art in general. While it's certainly not always true, there is a lot of poor Christian art out there. However, when I had to privilege of seeing a prescreening of October Baby a few weeks ago all of those thoughts vanished. October Baby is a beautiful piece of art that tells a beautiful and heart wrenching story of very real characters. It's a stunning and quality movie with a strong Christian message. It's a movie about abortion, but it's doesn't feel like a movie about abortion. It's a story about people effected by abortion. It shows the abounding forgiveness and love of God after abortion, but it shows the pain it takes to get there. This film shows that abortion is murder, but it does so in the most stunning way I have ever seen.

On March 23 it comes to theaters, and I strongly recommend seeing it. See it twice! See it seven times! If it doesn't do well the first weekend it will leave theaters quickly, but this movie deserves being in theaters for a while. People need to see it.

I get so discouraged watching movies and TV shows that tear you down. While they're entertaining, they portray life so negatively. This movie, however, is absolutely beautiful while it shows that life has value and is worth living. It's honestly the only movie I can think of that has this message, a message the world is aching to hear!

You Are of More Value Than Many Sparrows

"Are not five sparrows sold for two copper coins? And not one of them is forgotten before God. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Do not fear therefore; you are of more value than many sparrows."
Luke 12:6-7

His Voice

The nations raged, the kingdoms were moved;
He uttered His voice, the earth melted. 

Psalm 46:6

And God Seeks What Has Been Driven Away

 "I perceive that whatever God does endures forever;
nothing can be added to it, nor anything taken from it.
God has done is, so that people fear before Him.
That which is, already has been;
that which is to be, already has been;
and God seeks what has been driven away."

-Ecclesiastes 3:14-15

If you are not firm in faith, you will not be firm at all.

-Isaiah 7:9

When People Become My Gods

My existence, my very being, rests on what God has done and continues to do.

They have done nothing for me compared to what He has done; He has expressed His love for me through Creation, atonement, grace, mercy, Christ's life, Christ's death, death's death at Christ's life, sanctification, faith, justification, seeing me as already righteous, common grace, continuing grace, never ending grace, by Him all thing are made and all things hold together.

Without Him, we are nothing.
Compared to Him, we are nothing.

Mark 2:1-12

Today I was reading in Mark about when four guys lowered their paralytic friend down through a roof so that he could meet Jesus and be healed. I've heard this story a zillion times in Sunday school with the good 'ol flannelgraph, but today it got me thinking. To what lengths would I go to get my friend to Jesus? Would I drag him on top of a roof, bore a hole into said roof, and then carefully lower him down into a crowd of people surrounding Jesus?

I wonder if those guys knew how long their determination would last. With determination, creativity, and some faith they brought their friend to Jesus and watched him be healed and his sins be forgiven. Did they think the extra trouble they went to was worth it? They certainly didn't know their stunt would be recorded in Scripture and thousands of years later people would tell their story on flannelgraph. What if people remembered our deeds, hundreds or thousands of years from now? We don't know these guys' names, just their faith and what they did for their friend. What if people knew of our deeds in history books? What if we had that faith?

Just some thoughts.

Proverbs 31:1-9

 The words of King Lemuel. An oracle that his mother taught him:

What are you doing, my son? What are you doing, son of my womb? 

What are you doing, son of my vows? 

Do not give your strength to women, 

your ways to those who destroy kings. 

It is not for kings, O Lemuel, 

it is not for kings to drink wine, 

or for rulers to take strong drink, 

lest they drink and forget what has been decreed

and pervert the rights of all the afflicted. 

Give strong drink to the one who is perishing, 

and wine to those in bitter distress; 

let them drink and forget their poverty 

and remember their misery no more. 

Open your mouth for the mute, 

for the rights of all who are destitute. 

Open your mouth, judge righteously, 

defend the rights of the poor and needy.  

The Weight

This was originally posted in July of 2011 using tumblr. 

I can already tell this post is going to be very hard to write. This is a question that I still struggle with every day, though I have no idea how to answer it. I’ve been facing it for over two years and I still feel like I deal with it by improvising. Though I don’t have it anywhere near figured out, I’m learning a lot about what works and what doesn’t. Going through daily life with the weight of abortion is possibly the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I choose the word “weight” carefully—feeling the emotional pain of so many children dying and women hurting who you can’t help and seeing such a huge battle ahead when you’re already tired, the only way to describe it is a weight. It wears you down, makes everything else seem tedious, exhausting, and so insignificant, and I’ve found it to even wear me out physically. There are so many people dying, they all need someone to grieve for them. There are so many women hurting, they all need someone to cry with them. How do I handle that while doing homework, babysitting, hanging out with family and friends, and doing chores?

I’ve had many dark days where the weight consumes me. I’ve had many days that are dark in another way because the weight seems to no longer matter. How I handle this weight effects my family, friends, performance in school, my productivity with book stuff, and my relationship with God. I don’t think it is humanly possible to excel in all of these areas—however, there is a way to prioritize and do my best at what matters. I just have to figure that out, now.

So how do I handle the weight of abortion? A very simple answer is to use it as fuel. People often tell me after I explain abortion that “that’s so sad” and “that makes me want to cry.” While it is heart-wrenching, I do not believe simple sadness is the answer. The Bible distinguishes the difference between anger and righteous anger; anger is a sinful, irrational, self-centered emotion, and righteous anger is joining God in a strong negative emotion toward something unjust that leads to action. Abortion does not call for sitting back and pitying the children being ripped limb from limb in their mother’s womb, but a fiery, passionate, righteous anger that leads to swift action to bring justice. Turn the weight into righteous anger, and let that fuel our work of bringing justice.

What Does That Look Like? 

Here’s the all-annoying question I ask myself way too much: how does this practically play out? How do I write a paper on Hamlet when I’d much rather do something to save another precious child’s life? How can I let the weight fuel my righteous anger and let that lead to action when I’m supposed to unload the dishwasher? (Speaking of which…) How do I comfort a friend who’s having personal issues when tens of thousands of lives are on the line every single day?

It’s an obvious tension we must walk in. I feel like Paul when He said, “To live is Christ and to die is gain.” He wanted to continue to serve God’s people, but he also longed to be rid of this world and meet his Savior in Heaven. There are days when I feel like I’m called to two lives, the “normal one” and the passionate one, and I can’t handle them both. I oftentimes find myself picking one or the other, but either way it ends up disastrous. All I can do is trust God. Trust Him to provide me the strength to live with this weight, trust Him to give me the ability to remain sane another day longer, trust Him that He knows the end of abortion and how we play into it, trust Him in everything. That’s my big and grand answer. I’ve been told by many caring people that I’m not made to carry this burden, and I believe that’s true to some extent. I’m not carrying it, Jesus carried abortion to the grave and left it there. However, I do believe there is incredible value in feeling it. There is value in feeling the weight. We are called to walk this tension, feel the pain abortion brings, mourn for the dead, mourn with those who feel it too, and let it fuel our righteous anger.

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” Matthew 5:8

The Morning

This was originally posted in June of 2011 using tumblr. 

The world:

“The mask I polish in the evening by the morning looks like shit.” (Bright Eyes) 

God:

“Weeping may spend the night, but there is joy in the morning.” (Psalm 30:5)

I’m holding on till morning

Mark 5

This was originally posted in June of 2011 using tumblr.

Today I was reading Mark 5, where Jesus casts demons out of a man and sends them into a herd of pigs. Verse five definitely caught my attention, “Night and day among the tombs and on the mountains he was always crying out and cutting himself with stones.” The notes in my ESV Study Bible says, “The goal of demons is to destroy the person created in the image of God.” Pretty simple, but I never realized that before. All over the world we see lives being destroyed. Think of cutting, suicide, depression, eating disorders, abuse, slavery, abortion; there is an endless number of things that demons are using to destroy precious, priceless people made in God’s image. Instead of seeing that as proof that God is not good, see it as proof that demons are at work. Someday soon, God will defeat them and bring justice. 

He is good, and justice is coming

Behold!

This was originally posted in June, 2011 using tumblr. 

***Edit: Oh snap! I said Peter, but this disciple is definitely John. Sorry about that. Also, this passage is John 19. Thank you, Michael, for the correction!***

Recently I’ve been obsessed with the word “Behold” and how it’s used in the Bible. I keep finding really sweet verses in the New Testament when “behold” is followed by something incredible. 

Today I found an extra amazing “behold.” When Jesus dying on the cross, suffering more intensely than I could ever comprehend, and taking on the sins of the world, he said behold. He said to his mother, Mary, “Woman, behold your son,” then to John, “Behold, your mother.” Awesome, right? Yeah, I know. 

Quite simply, Jesus was telling John to take care of his mother when He died. She was in her late 40’s or early 50’s, probably widowed, and had no source of income to provide for herself. Jesus was caring for His mother. 

It goes much deeper than that, though. Jesus was suffering intensely, dying on the cross, taking on the sin of the world, and He cared for His mother. When I’m going through trials and hard times, I use it as an excuse to get out of my responsibilities. Then from Mary’s perspective, this is an incredible moment. God took care of her, even when His perfect and eternal Son was dying. In moments that defined history and fulfilled thousands of years of prophecy, God did not forget Mary.

God doesn’t forget you, either. When it feels like the world is falling apart with earthquakes and tsunamis and fires and floods, you are never forgotten. The Maker of the stars wants to hold you.

The band Starfield has a song with the line, “I want to hold the hand that holds the world.” And the hand that holds the world wants to hold your hand. Let Him. 

Wow, You're So Judgemental

This was originally posted in May, 2011 on tumblr

Today I had a funny realization. Well, I hope you find it funny, because to me it’s just shameful and embarrassing and a terrible reminder of my humanity. I was reading 1 Peter 2 (one of the most convicting chapters ever) and with each verse I felt like I was being pummeled with more conviction-stones. Verses 11-17 were hard for me to read, especially 17. “Honor everyone. Love the brotherhood. Fear God. Honor the emperor.” Short, sweet, to the point. And horrible. My thought process went something like this: I know some people who aren’t doing this. They are constantly judging and questioning authority. They act like they know everything about this situation, but I heard something else from so-and-so, so they must be wrong. How can they be so judgmental? 

Then came that terrible moment when I actually thought about what I was saying, put myself in the verse instead of everyone else but me, and realized how stupid I am. God likes to do this to me a lot, and I’m still not sure how much I appreciate it. (I’m definitely exaggerating here. Conviction is good, realizing my sin is good, I just hate the sting at first. For some reason believing you’re perfect is easier than working to get rid of sin in your life. Huh.) I was sitting there, Bible open, praying to God, telling Him all about how He needs to go convict this person of their ridiculous sins of ignorance, arrogance, and judgmentalness. I was being judgmental about someone else being judgmental about something that I obviously know nothing about. 

Ouch. 

A teacher at school recently talked about how easy it is for us to compartmentalize our minds. We know about all these sins, wrong ideas, false beliefs, then we place them in boxes in our minds and label them “BAD.” Then, when we meet people who subscribe to these false ideas and beliefs, we put them in those boxes. We lose discernment and begin judging. The person who God loves doesn’t matter any more, because we’re right and they’re wrong. And well, apparently I do this too.

I hope you enjoyed this. I didn’t. 

:)

Moses

Originally posted in March, 2011 on tumblr. 

Note: this was posted a while ago, and thanks to some hardcore editing I'm not nearly as close to being finished now as I was then. This isn't a bad thing at all, it's just how editing happens. 

Stress and Big Prayers

After a much needed two week spring break and a week of being sick, now “real life” has to start again. The other day I was thinking about the coming quarter, I got slightly overwhelmed at the lists of things that needs to be done. Besides school, there’s babysitting and family and so so much writing to be done to keep me busy. With only four chapters left to write (only one of which requires a lot of research! Hallelujah!), completing the first draft seems so close but still just out of reach. While thinking about all of this, I began praying. “Help me glorify You. Did I say that wrong? Be glorified through me. In me. Despite me. This is one of those scary prayers that I don’t know if I want to pray—but I feel as if I must. Help me depend on You. Make me depend on You.” In the book Forgotten God Francis Chan talks about how God will do something completely unexpected in the most unlikely person possible in order for Him to be glorified even more. I’ve been thinking about that a lot the last few years. 

Unlikely People Doing Unexpected Things

My favorite example is Moses, because he was so unlikely for the job God gave him to do. He was born an Israelite, but grew up in Pharaoh’s house as an Egyptian. When he was around 40, he went out and saw an Egyptian beating a Israelite man. Moses killed the Egyptian and buried his body, which made the Israelites fear him. Once Pharaoh heard Moses had killed an Egyptian, Pharaoh tried to kill him as well. In a matter of days, Moses found himself belonging nowhere and hated by everyone. I can’t imagine that in my own life; everything being normal one day, then suddenly everyone hating me and trying to kill me. He ran, and left behind him his family, friends, everything familiar and dear to him. Years later God came to Moses in an unlikely way, a burning bush, to give him an unlikely task. 

God said to go back to the country where he’s an outlaw. Go to the man you grew up with as a brother who probably now hates you (who happens to be the king by now), and tell him to let all of his slaves go. Then become their leader, despite the fact they hated you too, and bring them out of oppression and into the wilderness. After hearing this, Moses promptly reminds God that he has a speech impediment (which is kind of funny, actually). All the odds are against him. There were so many people who would have been a more reasonable choice to do what God was telling Moses to do. What does God say? “Who has made man’s mouth? Who makes him mute, or deaf, or seeing, or blind? Is it not I, the LORD? Now therefore go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak” (Exodus 4:11-12). Now, it seems unlikely enough that the most powerful king on earth would listen to a man without an army when he said to let all of his slaves go free. Then throw in the other variables that Moses was an outlaw, wasn’t exactly on friendly terms with anyone, and could very easily be thrown into slavery with his fellow Israelites. Not to mention he was putting his own family at risk by bringing them to Egypt with him. But God had a bigger plan: “Now therefore go, and I will be your mouth.” God wants to use our weaknesses to show off His strength. I used to always think He made us with our different talents and abilities so we can serve Him best. While that’s somewhat true, I think He gives us our weaknesses even more for Him to be glorified. 

I’m not an outlaw, I’m not hated by everyone, I’m not suffering from a speech impediment, and there aren’t people plotting my death, but I do have my own weaknesses. There are so many things that should disqualify me for doing what God has me to do. I have nothing interesting about me to make people want to read what I have to say, I’m not that great of a writer, I’m only sixteen years old… Just to name the most obvious, but the list goes on and on. However, God is telling me to “go, and I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak.” 

Prayer Is an Opportunity for God to Shine 

Asking God to make me depend on Him is intimidating. Actually, it’s really, really scary. Setting out to write a book on on of the most heated topics of our time as a teenager is really, really scary and intimidating. Praying and asking God to end abortion and the daily murder of thousands of innocent children is also scary and intimidating. But God is a big God, and if we don’t depend fully on Him, He wont have the opportunity to provide for us in big ways. If we’re not weak, He wont have the opportunity to be our strength. If we don’t pray big prayers, He wont have the opportunity to give us big answers. 

So, these next few months, I’m going to be depending on God. The normal Becca stresses out each week because of just homework, and really can’t manage much at all. Instead of freaking out, I’m learning to ask: What is God going to do despite of my weaknesses next?

Why the Heck Are You Writing a Book?

Originally posted in February, 2011 on tumblr. 

Woo-hoo. Little Book Girl’s got herself a blog. 

For my first blog post ever, I wanted to explain the question I get asked more than any other: “Why the heck are you writing a book?” I’m a sixteen year old highschool girl who’s setting out on the ridiculous mission of writing a book. For teenagers. About abortion. Believe me, I’m still in shock too. It’s still an absurd thought that I would be doing something like this, and I laugh about it frequently. Let me try to explain why I’m doing this. 

In the Beginning, There Was a Research Paper

It started with a research paper, assigned to me in early 2009. The assignment was a 7-9 page paper on an American “anti-hero;” certainly a daunting task for ninth-grade me. The list of people we could choose from included Betty Friedan, Karl Marx, Charles Darwin, Margaret Sanger, and many more. While my topic was still undecided, one day my teacher came up to me at church and asked me about my paper. She told me, “You should write your paper on Margaret Sanger!” For some reason, I completely agreed with her and just took her word for it. From that moment on, I knew that’s what my paper needed to be about. It’s odd explaining it, but I felt as if it had already been decided. 

2.5 billion: Dead. 

I soon began researching the life and legacy of Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parenthood. In my research I read books like Killer Angel by George Grant, Why Can’t We Love Them Both by Dr and Mrs Willke, and Won by Love by Norma McCorvey. I read dozens of pamphlets and brochures about everything related to abortion. I read websites like theunchoice,justfacts, and afterabortion. Everything I read lead me to one conclusion: abortion is a heinous act of murder and treachery, and somebody has to stop it. I clearly remember the moment, sitting at my desk in my room, reading Grant’s Killer Angel, when I read that 2.5 billion children have been killed by abortion. That has left far more than 2.5 billion people scarred by the abortion—mothers, fathers, siblings, family members, doctors, nurses…billions of people. I was stunned. I felt helpless against such a huge evil; there was nothing I could do. 

Do Hard Things 

Soon, I finished my paper and turned it in. I hadn’t totally forgotten about abortion, it seemed to lurk in the very back of my mind. I didn’t start thinking about it daily until later that summer. I read Do Hard Things by Alex and Brett Harris and suddenly I could believe that teenagers could do big things too. Teenagers can, and are, changing the world. I attended their Rebelutionconference where I heard of Abort73. I looked them up when I got home, and the horrors of abortion became fresh in my mind again. Despite lots of other things going on in my life, abortion became the front and foremost thought in my mind. I memorized statistics. I littered my room with sticky notes. I read anything I could get my hands on about it. Finally, I emailed my teacher who I wrote my research paper for and asked her what to do about it. 

“Hey Becca, Write a Book”

A few weeks later, she came up to me at school and said something that, since that moment, has completely changed my life. “Becca, I think you should write a book.” She went on to explain how much teenagers need to know about this; it directly effects our lives and we have the power to do something about it. I knew right away this is what I had been waiting for; this is what I needed to do. I continued to pray about it. I was incredibly hesitant to tell even my friends and family for fear I would fail. But God gave me an incredible peace about it, and more faith than I had ever experienced before. This is what I was made to do. This is why I am here. I’ve become more comfortable with the thought of writing a book, it’s gone from terrifying to hilarious. God has provided for me in so many ways for this book—from giving me a free laptop right after first telling me to write a book, to people frequently sending me links to things right when I need them the most. It’s been an incredible growing experience for me, and I hope to share some of that with you as God moves, I write, and life goes on. I’m still figuring out how in the world you’re supposed to write a book (much less as a teenager and about abortion), and I’m blown away over and over again by God’s grace in the midst of this chaos. 

That is the condensed version of why I’m writing a book. God works in such mysterious ways, I could never write all of them in a blog. I don’t think even I will fully understand why I’m doing this—other than because God said to. Nothing brings me greater joy than doing this. I’m hoping I can share that with you through this blog. Let’s hope I actually update it :) 

Here are some more FAQs (I’ve always wanted to say that. Ha.) 

Q: What is your book going to be called? 

A: The Unborn and the Uninformed. Snazzy, huh? 

Q: How long will it be? 

A: 30,000 words. Give or take a lot. Right now it’s looking like 10 chapters,between 3,000 and 5,000 words each, which is approximately 15-20 pages each. That means the book could run between 150-300 pages. But all of that depends on font, font size, page size, publishing company, how editing goes, ect. Basically: ask me when I’m done. I don’t really have a clue. 

Q: Are you going to get it published? 

A: That’s the plan. 

Q: How will that work? 

A: Ideally, I’ll find a publisher. But that’s unlikely and very difficult to do, especially because my book is so unique. If publishing doesn’t work, I’ll self publish. 

Q: When will you be done? 

A: I’d love to be done by the time I graduate highschool, but I don’t have much control over that. The more I research, the more there is to write. The more I write, the more there is to edit. I’m relying on God’s timing for all of this, so whenever He decides He wants it done it’ll be done. James 4:13-17. 

Q: What’s the significance behind “twopointfive”?

A: 2.5 billion lives have been lost to abortion. That was the statistic that first hit me and has stuck with me the most. Long story short, when I sat down and tried writing for the first time, I named the document “2.5,” and the name just stuck. (For those of you who don’t know, twopointfive was the name of my survey project a year ago.) 

Thanks for reading :) 

“Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world” James 1:27, ESV.