Does your theology drive you to your knees to weep for people who disagree?
Or does it provoke a surge of self-righteousness and increased volume and overpowering tactics to prove your point?
Does your theology allow room for growth and imperfection and an eye-to-eye understanding of the whole story?
Or does it imprison a person into a one-dimensional caricature who must think exactly you like do, or else?
Does your theology look for ways to love and engage and move in? Or does it look for permission to cut off and shut down and divide?
Does your theology have grace for people with bad theology?
Or did you read this thinking “This is for them and not for me” …?
Without grace, our theology is only posturing, and that’s not what Jesus came to die for.
One time after church, I texted this girl “You looked great today” and she didn’t reply. And then I felt horribly stupid, like just beat-myself-up stupid. You know, that swimmy sick-to-your-stomach anxiety when you want to jump out the window with a desk tied to your leg. I mean who even says that out loud to another person? I kept repeating it in my head over and over in the most nasal voice possible – You looked great today! – and doing the corny Yeah-You-Betcha wink. I lost sleep. I had that late-night regret twitch where I wanted to punch myself to never do it again. The cool thing is that now we’re married and it’s awesome.
Photo from Image Catalog, CC BY PDM
Hey friends, I was published on Thought Catalog! It’s a post called If You’re Friends With A Christian Introvert, Keep These 14 Things In Mind.
The original post is here: https://jsparkblog.com/2012/12/13/14-ways-to-handle-a-christian-introvert/
On the third day of a church retreat or when it’s five in the morning at a lock-in, the inner-beast might be unleashed. But it’s not very cool and calculated and witty like an extrovert. It’s all kinds of nerdy and neurotic with a shaky voice and twitchy flailing, as if we’re learning to use our bodies for the first time: and in a sense, we are.
When that happens, please don’t humiliate us. Roll with it, laugh with us, and endure our horrible dance moves and bad impressions.
If you do, we are loyal to you for life.
Read the rest here. Love y’all, friends!
There is a list of people in town who are waiting for you to fail.
There are people who are waiting to say, “I told you so. You had it coming. That’s what you get. You deserve this.”
There are people who time-stamp you, who think you haven’t really changed, that you’re still the same person because “I know how you really are.”
There are experts who will tell you it can’t be done.
There is the constant loop of self-condemnation, second-guessing yourself, holding yourself back because you think others will scoff at your newfound sense of confidence, the perpetual eye of criticism on anything you do outside the box you’ve been put in, that feeling the universe will somehow pay you back for every wrong thing you’ve done.
Continue reading “When People Wait For You To Fail: Let Them Wait”
We often waste an incredible amount of time wanting to be somewhere else, someone else. Our head-space gets clogged with compare, contrast, what if, why can’t, I should. But you’re never getting this time back. You can’t borrow tomorrow. Please don’t save the best for last. The best is all of you, here, where you are, brightly lit and painfully now, in this breath you’re leaving. Each second dies as it is born; every hello must say goodbye; all is fading in the collapsing hallway of a fragile hourglass, a grain at a time. You are here. The best is you, now.
Photo by Stefan Lins, CC BY-NC 2.0
If you express a strong opinion and get attacked for it, please don’t backpedal with “I was only trying to say” or “What I really meant was.”
Of course we want to be humble and teachable. There is always room for criticism and dialogue. It’s good to say you’re wrong: but don’t apologize for being strong. Please don’t hold back on your heart to look more rational than you really are. You can’t always be so cool and calculated. The strength of your voice is necessary in a nervously muted world.
Your expression is who you are in the heat of the moment, fully imbued by your wild strokes of passion and personality, and no one should be sorry about that. Don’t minimize your own humanness by trying to appeal to everyone’s civil sensibility. You might need to examine your content, but don’t let it shrink your character. In a silent world of jaded conformity, we need more of your voice and not less.
Photo by TOM81115, CC BY-NC-SA 2.0