pleading

I need to stop reading articles...

I'm making myself ill. Surely, I should be desensitized by now, so why does the thought of marital infidelity make me want to vomit? I can't handle it. I can watch the most violent slasher film ever, and yet I have to turn off movies that even allude to cheating. It's not like I'm unaware of the reality of infidelity in our world, but I cannot accept it. I feel like I have to fix something. I feel so helpless.

It devastates me when I know it has happened to someone else, so I can't imagine the betrayal of actually being subject to it. I understand the path that men and women travel to justify the behavior (even when they convinced themselves that it could never be them), but it still doesn't register.

I need a testimony...like now. I need someone to share how much they love their spouse without the need for external stimulation. I need this because I have to believe that God has empowered us to remain pure -- sexually and emotionally. I need this word, because I also desire my future wife to approach our relationship with the same level of hope -- that regardless of how the rest of the world responds to their problems, our bodies will only belong to one another. If I lose faith that this is possible, I'll be done waiting for a wife. I have no doubt what I have purposed for her, but Lord show me that I'm not alone in this. She needs to believe that men are capable of good choices through His Spirit.

I feel grieved, as if I should repent on behalf of mankind. I don't want to appear arrogant, but I need sexual immorality to stop -- in all of its forms. Honestly, I'm a guy...I look forward to sex as much as any man, but it can't be good without everything God provides in marital intimacy, can it? And yet, most who are sexually active have never experienced sex in its only wonderful context. I have to believe that it's the most beautiful covenant that can be shared between two people.

Or am I living in a pipe dream?

comfort food

When I lived in KC, I frequently drove fifteen minutes outside my centralized apartment for dive breakfast. I'd dine by myself, enjoy breakfast, and remember that real people are in the world, with real life jobs and struggles. Sounds funny that I could forget something so obvious as to need a reminder, but ministry can become rather isolated if you allow it to be, leaving you to become self-involved in the quieter moments.

Anyway, last Sunday I decided that I could either sulk in my apartment, or get out and interact with the real world. It's good to remember that the fine people that wait on me have their own struggles. They may be trying to earn their way through school, or working over to support the kids that they'd rather be with. In light of this, I am only a blip on their radar, but I can make the personal choice to brighten their day or tip a little more than what is rational. And I can walk out with little more than a satisfied stomach, but carry the joy of serving someone who has spent the day slaving over tables of ten college students or the after church crowd.

I can do this, because I have been given a light to share. Like the song I sang in children's church, it is an equally viable option to place it under a bowl, or to let Satan "poof" it out. But we were meant to shine. I think breakfast is a great way to shine; I aim to make this a routine.

RE: in support of new feminism?

Men: I think the term "new masculism" sounds a little counterproductive, but if women are willing to meet us halfway and do their part to restore their innate beauty and hearts, it stands reason that we should do the same. This isn't some social return to being "tough" or "Wild at Heart." It isn't enough for us to cut our hair and take off the girl's jeans and eyeliner. We must own the responsibilities that God has given us to lead and protect, to discover and restore the God-given qualities that make us uniquely and wonderfully masculine. We must place aside the fears and insecurities that disable us from serving that which we have been entrusted. We must seek our Heavenly Father for the eyes and guidance to step ahead of the women that trust us. Man up.

Perhaps this is where He has brought me into the picture.

By the way, if you read the article, I love the term "integral complementarity."

in support of new feminism?

When I came to the conclusion three years ago that I was against birth control, most of my old-school church friends asked if I had converted to Catholicism. I found it comical that I was being lumped into a single group in support of my view, since evangelicals had only in the last fifty years found justification for their position. But I speak for my own heritage when I admit that evangelicals are anything but good historians.

However, I said it at the time, and I still find this to be true: my position against birth control is the beginning of a larger understanding God desired to present concerning His heart. I received the easiest parallel first; because I was already seeking the leading of the Holy Spirit, God spoke to me in allegorical terms about His design for fruitfulness and man's struggle for control. Understanding control on a spiritual level opened my heart towards the physical misdeed.

I knew God had disqualified me from beginning a relationship with 99% of the women in my life, if only on this one condition. Still, I couldn't shake it. I had to remind myself that a value held by a majority isn't necessarily right, just more commonly accepted -- not unlike the Gospel I preach. Likewise, I didn't need to be Catholic to believe that they were right about a position, anymore than I had to join the NAACP to recognize the bitter root of racism, or the ACLU to support separation of church and state. We are given our own minds to pursue truth and hold it with conviction; it does not require the adoption of a recognized society to form appropriate conclusions, particularly those concerning God.

This conviction transformed my understanding of what it meant to be pro-life. I began exploring other ways in which we had accepted corruption. A painful evaluation of male/female relationships ensued. This corruption has taken on a standard form: man justifies his claims and dismisses his responsibilities, woman grieves her position and rejects it, which sets in motion a continual back and forth for control of rights and the meeting of personal needs.

However, in the rejection of one another's selfishness, man and woman have never taken time to acknowledge what else they have rejected. Woman in the birth control age have every right to reject that they should be under-appreciated baby-making machines. By all means, reject this behavior in men! But to deny the innate beauty and design that makes woman uniquely feminine, is an affront to God and not man.

Similarly, many good men have felt the sting of rejection as a result of the gender game. This usually results in two more corruptions: receiving the approval of the "liberated" women by denying a responsibility to lead and protect (physically, emotionally, and spiritually), or forcefully laying claim on the "rights" of men through the same tactics that already drove the women away.

In relationships, the "liberated" women are drawn towards weak men that will not subject them to their will, and traditional women are drawn towards domineering men that under-appreciate (or worse, abuse) the partner that serves them selflessly. Over generations, the offspring of these relationships continue to overcompensate and snowball the corruption.

Over the past three years, God has laid all of this on my heart. However, there is one question I cannot seem to breach: what can we do about it?

I felt helpless. Even my own well-intended efforts have been thwarted by my insecurity and woman's prior experience. Were I less hypocritical, I would still only be one man.

Thankfully, God has shown me one more piece of the puzzle. I had spent so much energy focusing on the corruption that I had lost sight of what He desires to restore. Yes, identifying the lie is necessary for restoration, but is insufficient without acknowledgment of the truth. And here is the truth:

God has designed man and woman perfectly -- with His hands, in His image. The more I seek the eyes of God, the more I recognize the beauty of His design. The beauty of woman is not in a contemporary disguise; it cannot be fully known through external measures. Rather, the beauty is discovered in the qualities that make woman uniquely feminine. This femininity is vibrant, protective, willing, and pure. It's sensitivity and regard for life cannot be fabricated. And we are all worse off for the dismissal of this beauty.

I can admire and desire this, but what is my part as a man? How can I affirm this beauty within my own perfectly unique design? This a wikipedia summary on new feminism, based on the work of Katrina Zeno, a Catholic new feminist:

For New Femininsts, being a man means being a father. In order to become a physical father, a man must give away his semen, in order to create new life.

In Catholicism and Eastern Orthodoxy, spiritual fatherhood means spiritual priesthood -- the offering of a man's body and blood for the sanctification of the world. It was because Jesus gave his body and blood away both as a sacrifice for his Church and as a gift to the Church in the form of the Eucharist that new spiritual life could be conceived. "A man is 'head' of his wife not to stroke his own ego, but in order to give up his body for her" and thus create new life. As keepers of the Eucharist, men are entrusted with the body and blood of Christ. All men, whether single or married, are entrusted with woman -- the body of the Church. "She is their Eucharist."

All spiritual fathers, according to New Feminists, also have a responsibility to protect the mutual self-giving of man and woman. This sense of protection of their wives and families is also built into a man's physical capacities -- in the greater physical strength of men, generally speaking, as well as their psychological need to feel competent and capable.

While I may differ on my theological understanding of the Eucharist, I fully support the interpretation of the "profound mystery" between Christ and His church, and man and his wife (Eph. 5:33). I humbly and joyfully accept this role, and pray that while single or married, I will thoughtfully care for and protect the women in which I have been entrusted.

Check out this wikipedia article for an elaborate easy-to-read summary on the movement, along with references for the academic work. I think this is really good stuff.

a year of emotional honesty

This Thanksgiving marks the unofficial anniversary of my return to Hoosier civilization. I arrived in the middle of October '09, but the initial transition of finding a job, an apartment, a social network, and getting settled mentally and physically, ended around the holiday.

Not surprisingly, this year has been hard. It has been difficult to sacrifice many of the benefits of my previous two years in St. Charles: the experiential knowledge of my restoration (and of the Spirit's work), the pleasure of a stress-free job that came naturally to me, the genuine admiration and respect of my co-workers (and the young ladies' willingness to accept my tough love), and the company of a body of believers willing to follow God to difficult places. I could have easily rested (or hid) in this environment, with little concern for my personal needs or anointing; my "selflessness" has historically been safer and more complacent than the sharing of myself, and it is typically better received.

While "death to self" is a relevant and necessary message for the church in every age, I used it as a mechanism for my own distance. If I did not regard my relationship needs as legitimate, then I would not feel. If I did not feel, then I could not hurt. Most people are so desperate to be heard that it was easy to function in this manner with few questions.

But God has been restoring this area of my life for such a time as this. The sensitivity and intensity flowing from my passionate heart are still crude and reckless. My romantic impulses are soured with experiences that lean towards self-preservation. Feeling has brought more trouble upon me than I had faced in eight years. If the Spirit was not transforming me nearer to the likeness of Christ, it would be logical to return to my shell.

It will be difficult not to consider this past year according to what I have lost, which has been plentiful. But I must praise Him, thankful of the blessings I have gained. I have lost a body in which I was granted influence, but have gained one that affirms my heart. I have lost the blind admiration of impressionable young ladies, but have gained the confidence and desire to love and lead a woman again. I lack the comfort of my coffee community, but have been re-introduced to a discarded group of teens, who find comfort in my willingness to show up every night.

I have laughed and cried, been honored and rejected, fallen in love and been disappointed, passionately preached and lamented, gained disciples and lost them...am I not better for pouring myself out before God and my brothers? The results are as mixed as the risk is great, but I am encouraged and thankful that God continues to affirm and renew my heart.

a tough pill

I stuggle with this one...

What shall we say then? There is no injustice with God, is there? May it never be!

For He says to Moses, "I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I have compassion." So then it does not depend on the man that wills or the man who runs, but on God who has mercy. For the scripture says to Pharaoh, "For this very purpose I raised you up, to demonstrate my power in you, and that my name might be proclaimed throughout the whole earth." So then He has mercy on whom He desires, and He hardens whom He desires.

You will say to me then, "Why does He still find fault? For who resists His will?" On the contrary, who are you, O man, who answers back to God? The thing molded will not say to the molder, "Why did you make me like this," will it? Or does not the potter have a right over the clay, to make from the same lump one vessel for honorable use and another for common use? (Romans 9:14-21)

Ugh. God decided before they had done anything good or bad that Esau would serve his younger brother. Men are stricken blind without regard to their own sin or their fathers. Job was the most blameless man of his age; for this, he suffered beyond my imagination.

As much as my theology can attest that I am nothing but a product of grace, I live as if I know something about justice. No, I don't rest upon my deeds for my salvation, but the proudest part of me feels like God owes me for my service.

I get frustrated. My temper flares when I see kids ignored by their parents, or when I hear men speak ill of their wives. The majority of the world clutters itself with various forms of sexual perversion. Therefore, logically speaking, it only makes sense that I would find my loneliness to be unjust in light of my purity and intent for Godly marriage.

And yet, this is not God's greatest concern. Is he grieved when I am grieved? Very likely. Christ was often moved by the pain of those He loved. But of greater interest to God is His glory being known. As much as I would love to think that I know the mind of God, we are all too limited in our understanding to know how He may be glorified.

Mary and Martha had to watch their brother die; the man in John 9 had to suffer through an entire life of disability and scorn. Job lost everything. Through all of our perceived injustice, we are given only one comfort: He and He alone is God.

Evil men will continue to have their way on earth, and men of righteousness will not always receive what we find just. We cannot determine what hardships God will use for the sake of His glory. We can only know Him intimately enough to trust that He knows everything that we do not, that His ways are good, and that He loves us beyond our comprehension.

This will take some time.

understanding my choices

Millions of people are living millions of lives, aimed toward fulfilling millions of purposes. In the infinite array of occupations, pursuits, locations, and lovers, I could rack my brain in an attempt to determine how I ended up here. Whereas many of my high school peers made poor life-changing choices, and many of my college friends made common, yet healthy choices, I am still a nomad -- a man without a home.

Sure, home is more than a location. I know plenty of geographically nomadic individuals that have found their sense of home, within a stable environment of family or community. However, if "home is where the heart is," my struggle has been identified. I long for nothing here that desires to entertain my heart, thus my heart is fixated alone on a Kingdom that often seems out of reach.

Periodically, this is what happens: I discover noble places to lend my heart, particularly when I discover the righteousness of God within it, but even the temporal things that I perceive to be blessings move in and out of my life like a steady ebb and flow. There is little stability in this; there is certainly not a home. And I can choose to position myself to the outskirts of these tides, for such a length that I enjoy the comfort of His shore, only to be thrust back into the ocean by an overpowering tidal wave -- very rarely a gentle brush upon the sand.

I dive, I surf, I sink, and promptly drown. I convince my rescuers that it didn't hurt so badly, and that they should also dive, all the while cuddled safely to the shore until the next violent crash sweeps me unwillingly. But why should they even tempt me? Do I so long to experience the heroic and epic end of Odysseus, that I would sacrifice my heart again and again? Seemingly in my story, Penelope has already claimed another suitor due to impatience; in its best version she has grown more comfortable with her current circumstance. Either way, I return to my empty crown, but certainly not a home.

If my heart is no less calloused than this by the sea, it does not require much reason to evaluate its lack of appeal. My only real use is upon the shore, and then, I am with Him in only mind and heart. When will He take me?

***************************

A kindred spirit of mine, Rich Mullins stated this shortly before his death:

If God should use me, that would be great but if He doesn't there is a very interesting thing you can do. In the gospel of Mark or in any of the four gospels, you go through the gospels and you say, what people are absolutely essential to this story?

So Mary is essential to the story because Mary had to give birth to Jesus. And you could say, well someone else could have. But lets say that if she wouldn't have done it then the story wouldn't have happened. So, you have God who chose to become flesh, you have Mary who gave Him flesh, you have Jesus who was God in the flesh or who was the child of Mary and God, you have Pontius Pilate who had, in an artificial sense, the power to kill Christ, you have Judas Iscariot who betrayed Christ and handed him over to the bad guys, you have whoever it was that nailed Him up to the cross.

Out of those people that God used to accomplish His will in the gospel, only a couple of them were very nice people. Most of them were bad people. We all want to be useful to God. Well, its no big deal. God can use anybody. God used Nebuchadnezzar. God used Judas Iscariot.

Its not a big deal to be used by God and the shocking thing in the book of Mark, and the reason why it is so shocking is because Mark is the briefest of all the gospels but he has these terrific little details and one of the little details is that it says, "and Jesus called to Him those that He wanted." And you realize that out of the twelve people that He wanted, only one was essential to His goal in coming to earth. The other eleven people were useless to Christ but they were wanted by Christ. And I kind of go, I would much rather have God want me than have God use me.

In light of this, my circumstances seem much less complicated. If scripture is true, and Christ does call to Him those that He wants, I am naturally offering the comfort of home for the only one who has ever wanted me: the one who chose me, predestined me to be adopted, redeemed me, lavished upon me the mystery of His will, included me, and branded me with His Spirit (Eph. 1:3-14)...why would I ever look elsewhere for companionship?

Why, indeed! I am fine in desperate longing for His presence until I identify someone of His that would choose me as well. Like human nature, and not unlike the call of Christ himself, I chase love where it presents itself willing to be chased -- those who follow, even knowing the cross I bear. I find blessing in this time...until they have would have it no longer. And I seriously don't know what to do with this any longer.

Therefore, I understand why I choose Christ. He has beckoned me since my creation to be called His son. But to bear the same heart as His and choose others? I am by comparison such a petty blessing to cast aside, so I can only imagine how his heart must ache for those that deny Him.

"everything's fine"

How much energy do we exert to convince ourselves that everything is fine? It is a dangerous assessment, indeed. Two of the most heralded values in the Western world are composure and happiness. So let's be honest: nothing is more unattractive than discontent. We know it and we live it. To lose composure or to be unhappy accepts that life (and our emotional responses) can be dangerously outside of our control.

Over the past twelve months, three of my most dear loved ones have admitted to me their struggles with how they feel. In these cases, either:

* Their feelings betrayed what they presumed to be true.
* Their feelings didn't match their intended desire.
or
* Their feelings were altogether unfamiliar.

In each occasion, I made the fatal suggestion to explore the cause. I'm not smart or arrogant enough to accurately explain why someone feels a certain way, but even the suggestion that there may be cause to explore has condemned me. None of these three are speaking to me, which obviously hurts a great deal.

Yes, I'm tired of losing loved ones; this is only human. It would be much easier for me to say nothing at all. They would still admire my spiritual life, and I would likely be married with 2.5 kids. Everything could be better for me, and all I would have to do is play the game, responding in turn that everything's fine.

For the most part, I should be able to fake it. As long as I limit my thoughts and conversations to benign, controllable, and successful areas of my life, I can push aside the nagging desires. Employment? Everything's fine! Finances? Just peachy! The American dream? Nearly a homeowner! It's warm outside, my breakfast was marvelous, and the Bears won this week.

And if any of this was remotely significant to me, it could work perfectly. It's not that I'm ungrateful; I thank God for my blessed circumstances. But in light of the heart He has given me, everything is far from fine. I hurt with longing for a bride willing to be served, and His church appears notoriously oblivious to its intended purpose. Both of these burdens (and their accompanying rejection) have left me a significant mess. But even if they cause me pain and grief, these burdens matter.

I'm not sure what else to say, because I know no other expression of love. I could shut down this blog, only date uncomplicated women, and go to church every Sunday; most of you will think that I'm better off for it. But if there's a chance that my being unattractive or despised leads to the redemption of even one of His children, perhaps my loneliness is a necessary sacrifice to avoid disturbing the fine lives of the satisfied.

hope and expectation

This passage has consumed me for a week; God brought this to me in the midst of my disappointment. As much as I love God speaking to me, I can't yet express that I like this passage, in light of it revealing my lack of faith.

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed in us. For the anxious longing of the creation waits eagerly for the revealing of the sons of God.

For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of Him who subjected it, in the hope that the creation itself also will be set free from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now. And not only this, but also we ourselves, having the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves groan within ourselves, waiting eagerly for our adoption as sons, the redemption of our body. For in hope we have been saved, but hope that is seen is not hope; for who hopes for what he already sees?

But if we hope for what we do not see, with perseverance we wait eagerly for it. In the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words; and He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. (Romans 8:18-27)

It is relatively easy to eagerly await a pleasantly familiar outcome. I can "hope" that God will meet me in worship, or that I will enjoy a sunny day. Looking forward to my favorite meal is only natural, and I always get amped up when I buy tickets for a concert, a baseball game, or our annual Cedar Point trip.

But do any of these require hope? It is one thing to look forward to the events in which I can place an experiential certainty, but it is quite another to await and anticipate the outcome that is less familiar. I have often taken refuge in my desire for His kingdom, but I must ask myself: do I truly long for the revealing of His glory in my eternal state, or is my greater incentive for physical death in the absence of my current pain and suffering?

These are not the same thing. While both involve waiting, to long only for the resolution of suffering brings me no closer to freedom, understanding, and the revealing of His glory. It gears itself towards survival, and becomes frustrated when the outcome is delayed or does not match my expectations.

In contrast, true hope finds treasure (if not pleasure) in the process. I love Paul's metaphor regarding childbirth. Like one in pregnancy, the process of waiting is not without struggle. I am certain there are days when a woman thinks to herself, "Let's be done with this already!" But I've never known a woman desiring a child that didn't also treasure the opportunity to carry the child to term. Mothers understand what is necessary for the development of the baby, and they would not disrupt the process just to produce a quicker result.

Particularly for the first time parent, the anticipation is intense and deeply personal. While she may lack the experience that tells her everything will be fine, the hope for birth is a great enough reward to persevere through the unknown trials.

When it comes to trusting my Father, I often struggle to see His intended glory through the pain. I want to be through it as quick as possible, especially if my expectations and experiences offer me little reason to hope. But this is what hope is: to eagerly await what I have not seen.

But can I be okay with this, should the process hurt, necessary as it may be for my own growth? If God is interested in whatever means are necessary to bring me closer to the likeness of Christ and the restoration of my heart, why do I get so frustrated when my expectations are unmet, yet His purposes have been served? I find that I dare not hope for the deepest desires of my heart, because I end up disappointed when it doesn't happen my way! How do I hope for a life companion, and to be a husband and father, when these pursuits have only brought me pain?

The verse after the passage makes for a cute little reminder on a coffee mug or a family room picture frame. But the person quoting 8:28 is rarely the one in waiting. It is most commonly used to grant solace when we have no logical explanation for why another must endure hardship. But the peace for the hurting lies in the preceding verses -- the ones that remind us that the Spirit awaits with us. And unlike us, He knows what must be accomplished before redemption occurs.

Can I trust that? Can I place hope in Him for the fulfillment of my desires and the restoration of my spirit, when experience tells me differently? I must if I desire to grow through the process. If I wait out the end of my painful circumstances, and have learned nothing through it, I will be subject to this same insecurity over and over again, and I will never allow myself to pursue my beloved in hope and freedom.

moving forward

A few weeks ago, I asked the question, "Is this growing up?" In light of my recent failures and disappointments, I am forced to look at this question through fogged eyes, but I am still responsible for how I respond to the sting of sin. I could easily mope about and contemplate all that is painful and just in my life, but at some point, it is time to ask for forgiveness and move forward.

One thing we learn from scripture is that the greatest men still faced consequences for their poor decisions. And since I will likely never be so strong as to have the faith of Abraham or the heart of David, it is more reasonable that I must also endure hardship in the process of becoming more like Christ, particularly when something fleshly presents itself.

I am thankful for these "big picture" reminders from my discipler. I am grateful for the grace and understanding of my mom, a woman who has humbly and steadfastly endured in love. And I cannot express how blessed I am to have my phone buzzing daily, with messages from my friends and church body, reminding me that I am covered in prayer during a difficult season. And while this support is amazing, it rests between God and I to grow in intimacy, and allow me to take responsibility for my behavior and accept His grace within a circumstance that is already determined.

Today, I was approved for my mortgage, and now must find a home that serves a purpose that God would have in store. Over the next couple of days, my spiritual brothers will be in need of my counsel, as inadequate as I feel right now. My girls at work will still be dealing with their abuse, and the lost will still look to me to demonstrate light. And I need to be emotionally honest enough to communicate how weak I feel, but also be willing to respond to His next step for my life. Like Abraham and David, my usefulness in the Father's eyes is for His pleasure and glory, and it is not my place to disqualify myself, even while I feel raw with rebuke. I must trust that God will redeem my poor decisions to bring me to His feet, and in turn, I would be fashioned as an instrument for righteousness again.

if i always do what i've always done, I'll always get what i've always gotten

I finally called my discipler to discuss my issues today. Had I made this phone call a week ago, I may have saved myself some heartache, though I may not have. Somewhere between this conversation, 14 hours of sleep, and many unpleasant trips to the bathroom, I was able to formulate some conclusions about the past week.

There is a nasty pattern of behavior in my life...

15 years ago this month, I wrote a love letter to a girl I had liked for two years, with some encouragement from my friends. After receiving no response over the following weekend, I walked into our school cafeteria and was mocked by her friends. Hurt by this, I never initiated conversation with her again.

During a Thanksgiving trip in college, I spent the majority of the weekend with one girl, who made conversation easy and considered my chivalry and respect to be noble. Saturday night, after spending an hour together atop the Empire State Building, we took a walk together, and she expressed that I was pretty much the perfect man. Once I shared that I had strong feelings for her, she felt differently, because she was fixated on a guy that she couldn't even bring herself to talk to. I remained a disappointed and embittered "friend" for the remainder of the school year.

Roughly three years later, I met a girl at a friend's party, and she immediately matched my enthusiasm for romance. I spent the next three months making her the center of my world. She promised me that I had no reason to fear, and that she wouldn't lose interest. After returning from a visit to see her family, I noticed that her demeanor had changed. She told me she needed space. A couple weeks later, I told her that I wasn't interested in just being friends; I couldn't just force my heart to feel differently about her. For the next two years, I watched her jump in and out of relationships with manipulative men, never understanding what I had done wrong.

This is an abridged summary of probably ten women that accepted my emotional investment in them, without reciprocating commitment. To be fair to them all, I allowed myself to continue to emotionally invest myself, even after my expectations were fractured.

Today, I should not be surprised at how quickly I bail at the tiniest indication of doubt. It is still in my true and romantic heart to invest myself fully to a woman of God. But I cannot help but be driven to an uncomfortable level of fear when the indication is given that her enthusiasm does not match mine. Immediately, I draw into my shell of defense that says, "Here we go again."

What is so damaging about my behavior is how poorly it represents the man I am created to be. Every work that has made me more Christ-like is neglected in my pain. As much as I function as an understanding instrument of grace and truth in every other facet of my life, I immediately revert to bitterness, self-righteousness, and justification when faced with my area of pain.

I know that I desire Christ enough to want to rid this from my life, otherwise I will continue to respond to doubt in the same fashion. But this will require a conscious effort everyday, not to mention the grace of the woman who loves me -- that she would know that this is not who I truly am. I can only pray that I would extend the same measure of grace to her.

getting by on reputation

During my college years, I developed a reputation as being a "nice guy." I think that when we begin to own a particular affirmation in our lives, we are at risk of living complacently. The reputation alone of who people say that we are begins to ring true in our heads. Sure, we often know this to be the case with negative comments. Therapists and ministers have been trying to tell us for years that we brand ourselves with identities based on our negative experiences.

But what about the positive ones?

I read Acts 4, and I can't help but wonder what it must have been like for Peter and John, who while walking in the Spirit began to be identified as those who "had been with Jesus." (v. 13) Thankfully for the early church, the disciples understood how limited they were beyond the work of the Spirit, and Peter and John maintained a willingness to allow God to brand them, not man.

But what if it had gone differently? What if Peter and John had begun to place their qualification and merit in their reputation? After a few years, they could have told the believers anything! Sheep so desperate for acclaimed leadership will follow simply on account of reputation and standing.

As scary as this thought may be, what if I do the same? My old campers often still view me in a certain idealized light, and the woman I went to school with still think that I'm the "nice guy." For example, my best female friend (who I see about six times a year), will continually inform me of what I deserve in a woman, and how thoughtful and considerate I am. But isn't that me ten years ago? It is really easy for me to play that part when I spend twelve hours with someone in a year, but what about those that know me daily? Would any of them affirm this as truth?

And yet I have deceived myself into believing that I am some kind of catch, as if I can be self-righteously justified in passing off every uninterested woman as shallow or misguided. The reality may be, if I am brave enough to face it, that my reputation is a house of cards without a foundation.

a day after clarity

I woke at 1am, finally succumbing to the physical sickness I presumed to have avoided just days earlier. Quivering and pale, I caught a glimpse of my image at my most fragile, and remembered the last time I vomited. Three years ago I experienced a similar physical / spiritual purging on the day I decided to clean up my impure sexual thoughts.

While I'm pleased that my pain is my burden alone, I wonder if solitude is also what my pride requires. Wrenching over a toilet seat has occurred in my most private and exposed moments, as if I am given no choice but to acknowledge my own condition.

I pray that grace allows my ears to hear in this place. I plead that God would renew my heart towards His purposes. I ask to be left stripped, but purged of wickedness. I need His touch.

eyes over Minneapolis

I peer out my window to a vast array of lights and traffic, realizing that my view pales in comparison with God's. This is only one major city, sitting in one state, of one large nation, on one planet moving perfectly through an inconceivable galaxy. And I can't help but wonder (and often doubt) what I have to do with this view -- why in the great expanse would God even bother to sustain his grace over my life.

I see a fly in my kitchen disrupting the natural order of my day, and it is hard for me to grasp that God would see my sin any different in light of His perfect will. That he would not also swat me according to my due punishment is bewildering. The only possibility is that I hold some worth or value under the surface -- that he would see me as family and as an asset. It's very difficult for me to see this "worth" when I know the order that I disrupt.

I'm not trying to be hard on myself; I think if I could legitimately understand the love of a Father, I may just trust myself as a son. But by earning His acclaim through my effort, which is due to fail in the most vital moments, I only know what it means to be the hired hand...as if my reward will only be justified by my labor.

when the heart turns ugly

When God grants me every reason for praise, and I acknowledge the overwhelming blessings in my life, it is heartbreaking to consider the disaster that I am capable of when I am fixed on my own preservation. I will inevitably hurt myself and others. Where God sows commitment, I search for doubt. Where God demands grace and understanding, my kneejerk reaction is bitterness. For God to affirm my "humble" heart with a gift, and for me to respond with a display of arrogance and selfishness, is a tragedy.

I need to serve. I need to get on my hands and knees before the broken, because it is the only way to die to my own impulses. And as sure as friends will grade on a curve to tell me that I'm fine as I am, I will be able to expose one more self-inflicted wound. And I have no way to know where to turn from here, so I can only hope and pray that God does. I have to trust that this work of consecration is not finished; that he will not stop blessing me, even though I squander.