Help Isn't Always Helpful

So about a month ago I had a little accident walking down the stairs at school. This little accident, which was just a misstep, led to a moderate injury. I sprained my ankle and I bruised the cuboid bone in my foot. I still can't walk properly and I'm in at least a mild degree of pain most of the time. This experience has taught me a lot about community and dependence on G. But one of the most interesting lessons has actually been that help isn't always helpful. My injury has had two stages. The first was the two weeks I was on crutches, which was zero fun sir. People would try to help me by grabbing my arms and pulling me places. This caused more harm than good. I would end up tripping or putting too much pressure on my foot. The second stage of this injury has been the recovery after. I'm in pain and I walk with a limp, but I don't need crutches. During this stage, people have tried to help me by taking my hand and guiding me up stairs or over cracks in the sidewalk. It's so sweet and it doesn't really do harm, but it's easier if I just do it myself. So why am I writing this? To discourage you from helping? Of course not! Although it's always a good idea to ask someone how you can help. I'm writing this because I was reminded that sometimes we do this when people have emotional or spiritual problems. We are so quick to help and we feel the need to do something, but we end up being unhelpful or even harmful. Think of Job's friends. They just wanted to help, but they ended up speaking lies over Job. How many times are we quick to speak clichés or platitudes over people (basically canned encouragement) that just hurt them? Or try to rush them to get back on their feet? Maybe they just need us to be there. I don't need people to help me. I need people to walk with me and not get frustrated that we have to move slowly. Recovery takes time.

I Am a Child of God

"Yet to all who received Him, to those who believed in His name, He gave the right to become children of God..." John 1:12

Al Franken used to play a character on Saturday Night Live named Stuart Smiley. He did a segment called Daily Affirmations. Stuart would look into the mirror and say, “I’m good enough. I’m smart enough. And gosh darn it, people like me.” I was reminded of this recently when a woman I respect was leading a Bible study. She said, “God loves. He likes me. And He has work for me to do.”

Most of us grasp the fact that God loves us, after all, the Bible tells me so. We have learned about this from the first moment we stepped in Church. If you don’t know this, then I will remind you again. God loves you! God doesn’t just love the collective us. The you all. The general group. He loves you specifically and personally. Just as He loves me personally and specifically. Most of us can understand that God loves us. Maybe we don’t understand why, but we know He does. This truth is throughout the Scriptures. It is displayed most prominently at Jesus’ death on the cross.

The thing we have a much more difficult time understanding is that God likes us. He delights in us. He adores us. I myself see this as a truth that is easily true of other people, but not so much of me. After all, I am the chief of sinners. I am too bad. Too selfish. Too broken. Too ungifted to be delighted in by God. He is the King of the Universe. And yet He calls me friend. God adores us because His adoration is not based on who I am or what I’ve done, but on who He is. He is benevolent, merciful, gracious, unfailingly kind, so He delights in me. He takes pleasure in me. I am His child and just as my earthly parents are filled with joy by me, just as they delight in me, my Heavenly Father delights in me as well. And more so because He is the one who formed me in my mother’s womb. Who knew me before I was ever even a thought to my parents. He delights in me even more because I wasn’t born to Him by labor pains or desired by a husband. But because He sought me and bought me by His death on the cross. Every time I seriously consider this truth, I have to pause for a moment because I am so taken aback. Even now, I find it hard to continue writing because words cannot express the awe I feel now.

Brothers and sisters, soak it in. Meditate on it. Believe it. You are God’s child. He loves you, but He also likes you.

Carrying Burdens: What it Means to Serve on a Team

I wanted to take an opportunity to just give glory to God for the team He has placed me on. Part of the reason I still work overseas is because of the community I have. In my time out of the country, G has used a particular group of people to smooth off my rough edges, convict me of sin, encourage me, comfort me, and grow me in unimaginable ways. These people are much more than friends. They are my family. When I came overseas, I gained brothers and sisters. I even gained a set of surrogate parents. They just happen to be only a few years older than me, but they care for me and give me advice.

         I never knew what it was to be vulnerable and honest with people until I moved overseas. I have a few friends in the States who I am completely honest with. But the level of honesty in our group is as encouraging as it is challenging. Challenging because being vulnerable is terrifying and uncomfortable. Challenging because being honest means confronting people when we are hurt or when we see a problem we don’t see.

         I love our honesty and I love the fun we have together, but the best part of being on a team is knowing people have your back. Now, I want to emphasize the point that we are to rely on Christ. However, God puts people in our lives to help us and to carry our burdens. We can do that successfully because we trust Him to help us do that.

         Let me illustrate this point. We have been planning an outreach for a few weeks now. Two of my teammates and I are working together on this. First, one of our teammates thought she couldn’t make it because of another commitment, so we stepped in prepared to lead if need be. Fortunately, she was able to get out of the other commitment. That was a great picture of supporting each other. But the real picture came in when I needed support. For this event, I was the host. However, last night, I broke my temporary crown off. It’s no big deal and apparently it happens all the time, but I was a little traumatized. When I thought I would be making an emergency trip to the dentist this morning, my teammate stepped in to volunteer to host instead. When it turned out that I didn’t have to go to the dentist, but I was just tired from the whole ordeal, she still volunteered to host. No questions asked. No making me feel guilty or telling me I owed her.

         “Carry each other’s burdens, and in this way you will fulfill the law of Christ.” Serving on a team with people who have your back (and you have theirs) really is a sweet, sweet part of living overseas. 

The Year I Couldn't Afford to Eat: Giving Food Stamps a Face

I graduated in 2012 with a degree in Social Studies Teaching. I had dreamed of being a teacher since I was 5 years old. My advisor informed me going into the program that it would be difficult to find a job in this content area. He was not kidding. If you know anything about History teachers, you know that they don’t quit, they retire. It is one of the areas of lowest need. I interviewed for one job after I graduated. One. There were several other candidates. I didn’t get it. Not enough experience. So, I decided to stay in my college town and become a substitute teacher. Glamourous work, of course. School started the first week of September. My first day of work was September 28^th. I worked eight days in October. Doesn’t seem like much, but that was actually a big month for me. That good month. Yeah. I brought home $800. Most months, I averaged about $500-700. My rent was about $300. I could barely pay my bills, let alone buy food. In November, after borrowing money from a friend to pay my rent, I decided to go on food stamps. Not because I was lazy. Not because I didn’t work. But because I couldn’t afford to buy food. The thing about being a substitute teacher (in a district of about 3000 students) is you have to be available at all times, but days go by with no work. Because substitute teaching is the only way to gain experience so you can get permanent teaching job.  

Going on food stamps was a tough decision. We are taught that it is something of which we should be ashamed. Food stamps are for welfare queens and those too lazy to work. Unlike this stereotype, I had no baby daddies. No drug addiction. I had a job. I was clean. As was my house. Every time I went to the store and pulled out that card, I hoped that I wouldn’t run into someone that I knew. Every time I bought a bag of chips or a bottle of soda, I prepared my defense for those who criticized my choices. Not only are food stamps something shameful, but everyone knows that those on food stamps don’t deserve to eat junk food. They’re poor. They can’t have chips or a candy bar. They can only have healthy food. Chocolate and popcorn are only for those who can afford food.

You might be reading this wondering why I’m writing this; I haven’t actually used food stamps in two years. Well, there are a lot of things in the news right now. Measures in state congress to limit what people can buy with their food stamps. No junk food. No steaks. I’ve noticed, as these measures arise, a lack of compassion on social media. I have found that many of my acquaintances see those who use welfare as those who abuse it. I have seen things like, “I took my dog down to apply for food stamps. He’s lazy and doesn’t know his daddy. His food stamps will be here on Tuesday.” Or headlines like, “This new law is sure to upset welfare queens.” And people are applauding these things and agreeing with them. I decided to write this to put a face to food stamps. Maybe people can have more compassion for a 22 year old recent grad who is fighting to make ends meet. Or my 70 year old grandmother who makes just enough social security to pay her bills (with $7 leftover). She would starve without food stamps and the help of her local food bank.

So, before you crack jokes, think about your lack of compassion and remember the shame you are perpetuating. As for my fellow Christians, which of your brothers or sisters are you condemning? What are you doing to help people? Remember the words of James, “Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, ‘Be warm and well fed,’ but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?”

Then David Got up from the Ground

First, welcome to my new blog. I'll post an introduction later, but for now, I just wanted to post this entry. I typed it up a few weeks ago and haven't had the courage to post it. I'm worried it isn't perfect. Which, of course, it isn't. It's a little bit rambly and could use some editing, but it's me and I wanted to share it. Pleasant reading! 

“Then David got up from the ground.”

After David sinned with Bathsheba, God forgave him, but told him his son would die. David began fasting and praying asking for God to heal his son. His son died. When David heard the news, he got up, washed his face, and ate. His servants were very confused. David asked them if there was anything he could do to bring his son back. Obviously, the answer was no. So he told them that he needed to carry on with life.

What really stuck out to me was the phrase, “Then David got up from the ground.” Was he filled with sorrow? Of course. But did he stay on the floor wallowing in that sorrow? No, he got up. This was very convicting to me because I don’t get up. When I’m down, I stay down. When I’m angry, I stay angry. When I fail, I collapse into a pile of tears and potato chips and I stay in a lump on the ground (okay, my bed). Reading this was not the first inkling I’ve had of my inability to get up and carry on. It was actually brought to my attention by my ministry leader. He told me in my semester evaluation that when I get into a funk, I stay in that funk (which, of course, affects everyone around me).

So what keeps me from getting up? Why do my funks stay funky? By the providence of God, after I read that passage, I listened to a sermon by Matt Chandler. It was titled Woman’s Hurdles from the Beautiful Design series. He talked about how most of women’s sinfulness falls into two buckets: comparison and perfectionism. I never thought of myself as a perfectionist. However, what he said really resonated with me. He talked about how women are oppressed by the feeling that they must be perfect. If you can’t do something perfectly, why try it? Women are paralyzed by a fear of being mediocre. By the guilt of not reaching high enough. I may not be a perfectionist in the day to day, but I am crippled by the fear that I am not good enough and I will never be good enough. Why would God use me? I’m a failure. What man would want me? I’m a mess. Who would want to be my friend? I’m a burden.

So, what comes next? How do I get up from the ground? The short answer of course is Jesus. More specifically, I think one gets up from the ground by confessing and repenting of sin, thanking God for His forgiveness, and starting again. The great news is: we serve a God who loves us where we are at, but doesn’t leave us where we are at. He doesn’t give up on us, but lovingly calls us to Himself with a willingness to teach us a lesson as long as it needs to sink in. Praise God for His incomprehensible mercy and unfathomable grace. There is no on like our God.