The following information comes from information provided by Redeemed Ministries at their weekend conference on Aftercare Training.
I am 100% convinced that God hates the sexual exploitation of women. I am positive that he is grieved by the fact that 21-30 million people are trafficked, 80% of whom are women, and 50% of whom are children. Why do I know God hates trafficking? Because of how he has revealed himself in the Bible. Continue reading
At the graduation ceremony at Dallas Theological Seminary, an allusion was made to “Well done, good and faithful servant,” at least three times. This phrase is from a parable Jesus told in Matthew 25 in which a man entrusts money to three servants in the hope that they will use it well in his absence. The two who invested are rewarded by their master and told, “Well done, good and faithful servant! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share your master’s happiness!”
If we are the servants and God is the master, it’s a nice thought that we might be greeted by him in our resurrected bodies with this kind of affirmation. But the near obsession evangelicals have with this verse concerns me. It feels very close to a works-based faith and a desire that God see our actions, our ministry, our goodness, and commend us for it.
Or maybe I’m just wired differently, because if there is one thing I want to hear God say, it is, “I love you.” I’ve spent my whole life working to impress people. I live for approval, and I’m just self-conscious enough to crave constant compliments. That kind of affirmation is fleeting, and I am never satisfied. I don’t want to work for God’s affection. I don’t want his affection to be based upon my work. Continue reading
I am a graduate of Dallas Theological Seminary! Three years of reading, writing, and learning, and I am a Master of Biblical Counseling. I am so relieved to have a brain break, but I admit that part of me is sad to leave the school behind.
DTS is not a perfect place because it is full of Christians. But despite my occasional rages against the more conservative leanings of the school, I am so grateful to have attended. My faith blossomed at DTS as I learned to see truth everywhere–in psychology textbooks, in the Bible, in nature. I learned to trust in a God bigger than I’d ever considered, a God who cannot be fathomed except that He made Himself known. I learned to stop putting so much of my identity in my GPA, to value knowledge for its own sake rather than for a grade. And more than that, I learned to put knowledge into practice, because what’s the point of having wisdom if it doesn’t affect the way you live and love other people?
Most of all, DTS taught me to appreciate grace. I live so often by the law of karma, demanding good for the good things I do and expecting bad when I do something wrong. I learned, by teaching and by experience, that God throws cause and effect out of the window. I learned to delight in a God who gives and gives and gives, who held out His arms to His people no matter how many times they ran away from Him. Continue reading
Mumford & Sons has been one of my favorite bands for the last five years. Naturally, when they announced their new album, I was ecstatic. Also naturally, when I first heard their single “Believe” on the radio, I was appalled. Rock had replaced folk, and my knee-jerk reaction was to recoil from change.
However, my love is nothing if not loyal, so I bought their album with the intention of listening to it until I loved it. So far I’ve listened through the whole thing twice. I might have done more, but I got stuck on “Broad-Shouldered Beasts.” THIS SONG. This song reminded me of everything I love about Mumford & Sons. It’s still not folk and there’s still no banjo, but the heart of the band is the same. Continue reading
I used to think Christians have a monopoly on truth. I thought that only we could see the world as it truly is. But I have since come to realize that most humans are on the same page. We all have a deep awareness of the fact that this world–and the people in it–is capable of beauty and extreme horror. And I think we all know that something needs to be done in order for the beauty to redeem the horror. I do think that Christians hold the final piece to the puzzle, the part that says Jesus and proclaims a God who died and rose again in humble love for a rebellious people. But there are people all over the planet, holding to all sorts of religions, who see the other pieces of the puzzle. Continue reading
I grew up in two worlds: the postmodern culture of my public education and the isolationist culture of my church. Although I was not consciously aware of the secular culture in which I grew up, it influenced me all the same, both implicitly shaping me and as I explicitly reacted against it. On the positive side, postmodernism taught me to value individual experiences and to look on the world with wonder at the multitudes of cultures and belief systems around the world. On the negative side, I internalized a belief that I could never fully be sure of anything. This applied to friendships, family members, and truth. I became a cynical person who doubted people’s love and wondered if I had any purpose in life. Although I was a loud-and-proud Christian at my public school, the theology I parroted rarely took root on an emotional level to counteract these fears.
In fact, although my church tried to offer hope in the face of a “sinful” culture, the theology I learned only exacerbated the loneliness and detachment of postmodernism. I was taught a theology that was centered upon the cross in hope of a future in heaven. I learned about the depth of love Jesus had for us by dying a horrific death in atonement for our sins. I had a guilt-based relationship with God in which I feared every new sin I committed would crucify Jesus all over again. The only hope, I believed, was in heaven. This world was entirely awful, and I certainly was not capable of making things better. Therefore, I looked forward to the day when I would be dead and blissfully happy in heaven, a nebulous place of whites and golds where I knew my sin-stained self would be able to see Jesus face-to-face. Continue reading
I’ve been thinking about working in HD. My reflex is to think of myself as these girls’ savior, and I plan how I will help them and love them and show them Christ.
Today I got a glimpse of something else. I stepped outside of myself for one moment, which is both a profound relief and an intense discomfort. I thought about each individual woman I will meet. I thought of a young girl who will be bold and brash and powerful. I thought of another woman who will be timid, thoughtful, and scared. I thought of another who will ignore me, lost in her own world, unwilling to be helped. Continue reading
During my last semester in college, I shrank away from friends and became an almost-recluse. I was anticipating leaving the people I loved, and the fearful part of myself thought it would hurt less if I left them emotionally before I left them physically. Thankfully, my best friend called me out on my actions and made me aware of the fact that, although it might help me, it was hurting her.
In the last ten years, I have moved five times (I’m jumping forward to include my move to Greece in a few months). Each time I left people that I loved deeply and considered family. There is still a part of me that wants to avoid getting close to people for fear of inevitably being separated. But I’ve learned that there is a particular kind of bravery that allows a person to keep opening their heart to joy and pain. I’ve learned that I want to fling myself into loving people, experiencing the heights of friendships and depths of loneliness. Continue reading
Tonight is Good Friday. I asked to get off work early so I could go to church, where everyone wore black in anticipation of our mourning. Our service was somber, lights dimmed, people hushed. People read the story of Jesus’s arrest, trial, and murder, not as a skit, but as something more than a recitation. The story was interspersed with music, sometimes performed by a choir, by the congregation, by a soloist.
I’ve been learning about the value of walking through Holy Week one day at a time. Too often we jump to Easter, because it is easier to focus on good news and hope and life than to let ourselves sit with disappointment, rejection, fear, and death. But I think it is valuable to walk with Jesus and put ourselves in the shoes of those who knew him, listened to him, trusted in him, and watched him die. Continue reading
I often forget to celebrate Holy Week. Sometimes this is for amazing reasons–like a visiting friend who brings me so much joy. Sometimes this is for dumb reasons–like being anxious about the future and how to make hard decisions. And I think God is patient with me, understanding my distractions, waiting for me to realize the gift He’s given the Church in walking through Holy Week year after year after year.
On Palm Sunday, we celebrate Christ as humble King, entering the city not on a military horse but on a plodding donkey. At my church, we walked down the aisle with palm branches, laid them on the alter, and took Communion from our elders. We were encouraged to symbolically lay down something along with the palm branch, and I gave up control. Or rather, for one moment I gave up control, hoping that God would honor that fleeting moment of trust and see my heart that is scared and doubtful but so desperate to lean on Him. Then I took the bread and the wine, looking back at what Jesus did for the world so that I can look forward to what He will do when He returns. In all this, Christ is King. He is in control. Continue reading
It Is Trish 