Love Those...

But I tell you who hear me:

Love your enemies,

do good to those who hate you,

bless those who curse you,

pray for those who mistreat you.

If someone strikes you on one cheek, turn to him the other also.

If someone takes your cloak, do not stop him from taking your tunic.

Give to everyone who asks you, and if anyone takes what belongs to you, do not demand it back.

Do to others as you would have them do to you.If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' love those who love them.

And if you do good to those who are good to you, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' do that.

And if you lend to those from whom you expect repayment, what credit is that to you? Even 'sinners' lend to 'sinners,' expecting to be repaid in full.

But love your enemies, do good to them, and lend to them without expecting to get anything back.

- Jesus

This verse defines "love." According to the above, love is what you do to your enemies, not what we do to our friends. When we care for our friends, it's nice, but it can be lazy and easy, or even selfish and centered on insecurities and fear. Friend-love keeps us safe. You know - I like him, he likes me, we like each other, no one risks looking stupid, no one will judge, no one will get hurt. Practically risk free.

But Jesus says that love is what we do when we risk everything. Even "pagans" like people who have something to offer them. Even "pagans" like people that won't potentially hurt them or humiliate them. But to love someone with no net to catch you? Real love, that goes out to people that will never be able to love us back?

Jesus didn't hand out Precious Moments figurines on sidewalks. This is hard as nails. What kind of person would demand that  we risk everything emotionally for people who don't have our best interests at heart? Who would ask for 100% emotional investment where we might never reap the benefits? Who asks us to sacrifice it all for jackasses, snobs, and gossips?

Religion ain't for the faint of heart.

Three Days Left and Nothing to Say

I only have three days left of this blog challenge and I have absolutely nothing to say. Well, I have lots to say. I shan't say it all.

Half of it's repetitive.  I don't usually think about "new things", I just dwell on the old things in different ways for weeks and weeks until somehow it starts to make sense to me, or starts to actually affect my life. There is nothing new under the sun. Or in my brain.

A third of it is entirely inappropriate for a public blog. You know the drill - 14 year old girls sobbing their emotive, enraged, heartbroken, depressed, hyper selves over cyberspace... No, I'm not heartbroken, enraged and depressed, but sometimes my moods go there and there's really no sense or propriety in blogging when in that state of mind.

The rest? Undeveloped, too lazy to think about thoughts and poems that I've never taken the time to think about sufficiently and probably never will.

Three days to go and I can't spit out a blog post?!?? I made it 27 days and I can't go on for three more??!?

Well, if I did write a blog post, here's what it would probably be.

"Sin is what makes us love Jesus, so even though we'll never reach the end of the road, we should relinquish all control and learn that it's not the end result but the process of knowing him that is important. SOB SOB I'M SO IMPERFECT I'LL NEVER BE LIKE JEEEESUS!!!"

Happy? (Thanksgiving!)

Treadmill Morality

Isn't it interesting that we either spend our life cultivating goodness or badness? There is no in between. Either we're getting better or worse - there's really no such thing as moral stagnation.

I've Been Thinking, Overthinking...

All your friends will laugh at you if you switch majors... again.

The reason that I left Humanities was because smart people made fun of me and looked down on me because humanities isn't a "real" major.

You're only quitting the major because you're lazy and don't want to work hard or think hard.

I only switched into philosophy because I was looking for an "identity" as a philosophy major, not because of philosophy itself at all.

You don't like the responsibility of running Socratic Society, you don't like the pressure of professors knowing you and expecting you to succeed, you don't like having to have relationships with your peers in the department, so you're running away.

I hate every single one of my philosophy classes this semester!

You are just bored of thinking hard - the novelty of college has worn of and you're getting intellectually lazy. Start doing the homework and maybe the classes will be more interesting.

I have been sitting in my existentialism class all semester listening in on the poetry class next door wishing that I was in it instead.

And you spent your first semester wishing you were in English classes, your second wishing for History classes, your third wishing for Humanities classes, and your fourth wishing for Philosophy classes. So what else is new?

I really love thinking about important things, but philosophy doesn't do that like I thought it would. I thought we would talk about meaning and truth and beauty and instead we are talking about analytic vs. synthetic and a priori knowledge and bullcrap techno-jargon.

This has nothing to do with philosophy or humanities or anything - you are just perpetually unsatisfied with everything you do, and you always will be, and until you hunker down and stick with something through the good and bad time, you will always be an eternally bored, flighty student of nothingness.

I don't want to spend 4,000 dollars a semester to take classes that I hate.

You really don't want to spend 4000 dollars a semester to reinforce unhealthy attitudes and work ethics that you'll spend the rest of your life trying to unmake.

Doesn't God want me to be happy?

Don't you believe that God knows what will make you happy better than you do?

I want to write a thesis on Dostoevsky, not on theistic existentialism.

Quitter!

I feel intellectually raped in these classes, I am overthinking everything, these philosophy classes encourage and reward the most unhealthy tendency in my life - thinking without conclusion.

GOD SAYS STAY!

Excuse me...you are very loud and all...but how do I know that you are God?

Oh, the Places You'll Go...

Courtesy of Dr. Seuss.

You will come to a place where the streets are not marked.
Some windows are lighted. But mostly they're darked.
A place you could sprain both you elbow and chin!
Do you dare to stay out? Do you dare to go in?
How much can you lose? How much can you win?

And IF you go in, should you turn left or right...
or right-and-three-quarters? Or, maybe, not quite?
Or go around back and sneak in from behind?
Simple it's not, I'm afraid you will find,
for a mind-maker-upper to make up his mind.

You can get so confused
that you'll start in to race
down long wiggled roads at a break-necking pace
and grind on for miles across weirdish wild space,
headed, I fear, toward a most useless place.
The Waiting Place...

...for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go
or a bus to come, or a plane to go
or the mail to come, or the rain to go
or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow
or waiting around for a Yes or a No
or waiting for their hair to grow.
Everyone is just waiting.

Waiting for the fish to bite
or waiting for wind to fly a kite
or waiting around for Friday night
or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake
or a pot to boil, or a Better Break
or a sting of pearls, or a pair of pants
or a wig with curls, or Another Chance.
Everyone is just waiting.

What William Wallace Never Told Us...

Freedom is responsibility.

Us

Isn't it weird that what we call "us" and our "personality" is so dependant on sufficient sleep, proper vitamins, lots of sunlight, exercise, and a perfect deluge of other factors?

Or is it weird that we only like to call "us" what we are, all other factors being perfect? ("This isn't really me - I didn't get enough sleep last night... I'm not usually ___, it's just winter.... Sorry I'm so cranky, it's that time of month") 

The state of "all other factors being perfect" is a rare one. I think I'll have to resign myself to the fact that who I am when I'm malnourished, sleep deprived, November living and PMSing is just as much "me" as the me that wakes up on a sunny June morning after 10 hours of sleep.

FYI - I don't like November.

Love is Not A Pretty Feeling

I get home from school. Had a longish day. Some good, some nasty, some lazy, some whatever. I left school frustrated, feeling very overwhelmed for my campus and the church and feeling so useless and sinful but wanting to do something, to be part of God's movement, to serve Him in a big way right here on campus but seeing no way, no place to do it. I prayed for open doors, to see what He wants, to do what He wants - there is somewhere, something that I should be doing here and I can't see it.

So with all these desires to pursue God and be God's and serve God and be holy and all that messing around in my brain...

My mom gets home. And says, "I listened to R.C. Sproul on the radio. He was talking about capitalism and how God says..."

And I blew up at her!

Bam!

"Butdon'tyouseethatthechurchneedstogetoutofthepoliticalrealmandwhoarewetomakethesepolicydecisionswhenwe'resupposedtobefollowingjesusandinsteadwe'relookingforpowerandwhataboutmaterialismthiscountryisacesspoolandiamdisgustedbytheculturethatclaimsthat..."

I am a self-righteous, conceited, condescending idealistic snotty Jesus freak!

God says to serve Him here. So, OK, I want that to mean "go door to door to frats; preach the word outside of the library; pray for revival". But what it really means is "Love your neighbor as yourself."

"But who is my neighbor?"

Your mother. Love your mother. For pities sake. If you can't love your wonderful, Godly mother who you sometimes disagree with about politics and the church and a Christian life but who you ultimately share Jesus Christ with - who the hell do you plan on loving?!?

Get serious, Laura.

At the Sink

Tonight I had the most meaningful experience that I've had all month.

I washed the dishes.

It felt real and right and yes it's silly because some people have to wash the dishes three times a day and chores are normal and it's like when duchesses used to have little gardens to play in so that they could pretend to be the laity for an hour because it was so "quaint." Well, it wasn't really that. It was just real. I was doing something. The dishes needed to be washed. My mom cooked dinner and I was home for the first time in a long time for dinner, and so I did the dishes and my mom got to play piano and my dad watched the end of whatever football game was on.

I don't remember the last time I felt so useful and busy and happy. Perhaps this is a little too Heideggerian, infusing everyday life with meaning... but every day life has meaning.

Maybe academia is just too removed from reality. Maybe it's too far removed from being human, which is doing and acting and fixing and folding laundry (eugh, yes, i need to do that after I finish this post... we'll see how meaningful that is...) and painting the house and making your own clothes and bringing casseroles to the lady next door and growing your own food and making things and needing to make things to survive.

Maybe it's not just academia that is too far removed from reality. Computers and supermarkets and malls and eBay and Pandora and cars and hairdressers mean that none of us ever have to do anything. Ever. We just buy things. And sit. We don't need to make our own music or cook our own food or even go anywhere on our own two feet.

It's easier, sure. But the easier something is, the less it matters. And so life gets easier and easier, and matters less and less.

But Jesus, I LIKE Arbor Mist...

Jesus, I don't understand.

You call me away from small and weak and silly things to love big and beautiful things.

But I don't have a taste for your things yet.

I like Oreos and Arbor Mist and McDonald's.

You're offering me gourmet - European chocolate, $100 dollar wine, caviar - but Jesus -

I don't really like it that much.

I know it's better.

It just tastes nasty.

So how am I supposed to survive in the interim?

You are calling me away from my cheap substitutes.

But I don't like the real things yet.

So here, now, will nothing satisfy?

Will nothing make me happy?

Will I just have to wait here, McDonald's forbidden but caviar repugnant?

I know that eventually, your food will satisfy me much deeper than anything I've ever eaten.

But if I can’t eat what delights me now, and what I ought to eat doesn’t delight me yet, then there's nothing left to delight in - and how can I do this without delight?

It's the Process, Stupid

A + B = C
Turn L on Route 16, second house on R
Laundry washed and folded.
Completed papers due on my desk at the beginning of class.
"Welcome to the 4000fter club"
complete, finish, end, finale, wrap up, destination, goal, final, conclusion, purpose meaning reason

Everything I do is so that I can be done. Everything I do is so that I will win. So that I will have accomplished something. Everything is centered on the finish line, on the completed product, on success, on what will happen at the end.

The end doesn't matter.

"I am not leading you to An End, I am leading you to Me."

Maybe I will never be "successful" or "complete" important things. Maybe I will not see the "finish line" that I want to imagine. Maybe all that He is calling me to is Himself. And right here, right now, halfway up the trail, the research incomplete, with the "end result" nowhere in sight, He is telling me that he is here.

And since He is here, then I need to be here, as well.

Jesus Looked on Him... and Loved Him

You know the passage where Christ meets the "rich young ruler"? What we remember is that Christ tells him to give up everything that he had. What we forget is that at first, when the rich young ruler asked how to get into heaven, Christ didn't even mention money or lifestyle. He just told him to follow the commandments - and only after the man said that he already followed all the commandments did Christ add one final, purifying command.

Was the young man hypocritical? Was he lying when he said he followed all the commandments?

I don't think so, because right after the man claims this massive accomplishment, it says that "Jesus looked on him and loved him." Jesus wasn't dissatisfied with the man's claim that he had obeyed all the commandments since he was a boy. He looked at him - and loved him.

Are we skipping a step? We want to serve God in massive ways that involve us giving up everything we have and following Him, but we are only listening to the final words of Christ to the rich man. We have never heard the beginning of the conversation. 

I think that before I start talking about giving up all my money and moving to Africa, I need to listen to Christ about the every day things.

"You shall not murder ('and whoever is angry at a brother or sister is guilty of murder'), you shall not commit adultery ('and whoever looks at a woman lustfully with his eyes is guilty of adultery'), you shall not give false testimony, you shall not defraud, honor your mother and father."

And may I one day be able to say, "Teacher - all these I have kept since I was a child." And hear Christ say, finally - "One thing you lack - give all you have to the poor and follow Me."

The Blind Man Said..

Then they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (that is, the Son of Timaeus), was sitting by the roadside begging. When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, "Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!"

Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, "Son of David, have mercy on me!"

Jesus stopped and said, "Call him." So they called to the blind man, "Cheer up! On your feet! He's calling you." Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus.

"What do you want me to do for you?" Jesus asked him.

The blind man said, "Rabbi, I want to see."

"Go," said Jesus, "your faith has healed you." Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.

Why does Christ ask the blind man what he wants?

Why is it "faith" for the blind man to state the obvious?

What am I refusing to ask Jesus to cure because I can't imagine life without it?

When Jesus asks me "what do you want me to do for you?" - what is my answer?

And when He cures me - do I regret asking him because life was at least predictable before?

What does faith even mean in this verse?

Faith is wanting to be healed.

Like Minded Folk

It's very dangerous to surround yourself with people that agree with you. You usually end up thinking about how wonderful you and your ideas are after an evening with like minded folk. I scratch your back, you scratch mine - we can all sit in a nice circle and think nice thoughts about how clever we all are, and how much fun it is to be us and to be thinking such wise thoughts.

Come to think of it, why do we even talk about anything with anyone that we agree with? How is it possible that we spend half an hour discussing an issue that we both are in perfect accord about? Isn't it to hear our own voice, and to hear another voice validate us right back?

Why are we so afraid of dissent? Not arguing, but dissent - disagreement, differing opinion, discussion. We all migrate to groups of people that dress like us, think like us, worship like us - I don't buy that it's just because we want to feel "comfortable." We want to feel good. We want to like ourselves. We don't want our outlook or our perspective to be challenged because- it's uncomfortable, and because it means admitting that we are not right. We are wrong. We make stupid judgment calls and dumb choices. Putting our lives under the light of a different view means that some nasty dirt will show up. But if everyone around me has the same dirt - maybe the spotlight will never find it and I can stay comfy and protected by the agreement that I find myself surrounded by.

I shall not just be an echo chamber for my friends' ideas! I shall not use my friends as mirror images! I shall open up, be challenged, stifle my sensitivity, and listen and reflect and be made uncomfortable by the spotlight that reflection insists on shining into the darkest, dirtiest corners of my opinionated brain. So there.

I Call Foul

I'm overtired. I have a headache. I have homework. My alarm is set for 6:30AM.

And I have to write a blog post?!?

Well, I made it for a whole week. That's got to count for something.

All right, the clock is set for five minutes: here is what I am thinking about for the next five minutes.

Isn't modern culture funny? We drive up, tell someone what we want to eat, they make it, and one minute and thirty-four seconds later, we drive away with food. Strange.

Isn't modern music funny? Every single song on the radio is about love or relationships. But not every movie is about that. So why is the music industry dominated by romance but not all the other art industries? And is that really all that we think about, love? No wonder we need so many depression meds.

Isn't modern fashion funny? Fashion used to come and go within 30-40 year periods - or better still, ancient fashion, which went in 100 year periods. (Think Greek art...) Now, something is in style for one season. The boots you wear this fall cannot be worn next fall. And the color you buy this November cannot be worn in June. So quickly time moves!

Isn't Christmas funny? I went to Wal-Mart today and they were playing Christmas carols. Wow.

Aren't friendships funny? You can't love someone too much or they replace God. You can't love someone too little or they don't matter. You can't love someone for yourself or you become manipulative in order to get what you want. You can't love someone for who you want them to be or you like them less and less as they continue to fall short of your imaginary vision of them. Finding the line is hard enough. Then you have to walk it.

Isn't sleep funny? No one knows why we need it. Science can't explain it. Technically, our bodies shouldn't need it. But we do. And without it, we can't memorize, focus, or have any emotional stability.

Good night.

"You Don't Have to Do It Justice... You Just Have to Do It!"

If I start writing now
When I'm not really rested
It could upset my thinking
Which is no good at all.
I'll get a fresh start tomorrow
And it's not due till Wednesday
So I'll have all of Tuesday
Unless something should happen.
Why does this always happen,
I should be outside playing
Getting fresh air and sunshine,
I work best under pressure,
And there'll be lots of pressure
If I wait till tomorrow
I should start writing now.
But I if I start writing now
When I'm not really rested
It could upset my thinking
Which is
No good at all.
- You're a Good Man, Charlie Brown

Here I sit. Seven pages due on Monday. So far? A paragraph.

I should just start... I can't start until I know exactly what I'm going to write. I don't know exactly what I'm going to write. I'll never know exactly what I want to write. I should just start... Oh look, Facebook!... I'm thirsty. If I don't fill up my water bottle than I'll just be distracted until I do. OK, compromise. Fill the bottle... I have to go to the bathroom.... Just one page! Just the first page! OK, OK, OK, thesis - check. Points, check. This is a really bad thesis. I should fix it... Oh, look, Facebook!... This room is really hot. Maybe I should go the library. I always focus better at the library.... Is my cell phone turned off? Should it be turned on? What if X/Y/Z calls?... PANIC! PANIC! PANIC! WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING WRITE THE PAPER WRITE WRITE WRITE!!!... Oh, look, Facebook!... I'm such a procrastinator. I wonder if there are any ways to combat procrastination. Google: procrastination. Hmmm. Good info here... If you don't write it now, you'll just have more to do tomorrow. If you work on it now, you'll be done by Sunday. If you put it off it'll just be harder. Therefore... Oh look, Facebook!...

It's going to be a long weekend.

The Animal Whisperer... of DEATH!

The Snape-mobile is a death trap for the birds of the air and the beasts of the field.

First, there is the assortment of squirrels and chipmunks. They barely count. Darned things are suicidal. Way to stop in the middle of the road and then turn around to dive under my wheel. Clever, little creeps. Now I'm stuck with the guilt of your little act of hari-kari.

And then there was the mouse. In all fairness, the Snape-mobile did not kill the mouse. I think. All I know is, I got into the van with a friend, our delicious summer ice cream cones in hand, and there, sprawled underneath my CD player, his little pink paws stuck up in the air, was a dead mouse. That was so, so not okay. All I could picture was a whole family of them nesting in the back, and one day one of them would leap onto the brake... just as I went to slam it with a bare foot. I could almost feel the furry little body being crushed under my toes... Yeah, that one screwed me up a little while.

And then there was Mr. Bird! Smack! On the windshield! As I was listening to the Beatles! And instead of hitting the windshield and sliding off, he gets stuck under the windshield wiper! No crap. And I'm driving on, mesmerized by his little body splatted on my window... So I had to pull over, pick his limp, bloodied body off my car with a stick, wipe the blood (!!!) off my windshield with a tissue, and continue my trip to the soundtrack of "I Wanna Hold Your Hand". I thought that was was as bad as it could get.

I was wrong.

Last night the Snape-mobile claimed another forest victim.

BAM! Deer under the car!

No, I did not hit the deer. I ran over the deer. (It was a very little deer.) 9:45 on 125, 55 mph, pitch black, bright headlights, and a dark shape that barely is there before WHAM! Left tire up, THUNK, and then I was past it. Yeah. I screamed. Really loudly...

The Snape-mobile - the Pied Piper of the Road...

By the way, if you're still waiting for the spiritual component of this post... I'll get back to you on that. Maybe.

ACTION?!?! part II: Wherein God Tells Me To Shut Up

"His master replied, '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!'" -Matthew 25:21

If I get one more answer to a complaint, worry, or question, I'll go crazy. Time to admit that my questions are just a smokescreen for my own reluctance to get up and start obeying. If I pretend that I don't understand than I don't have to actually act on anything... but now I stand with no excuse.

Lord, help me to be faithful with the few things that you have given me - with the boring and bland, all the daily sacrifices that seem to add up to nothing much, every moment of obedience that never seems to equal revolutionary trust... give me faithfulness as a college student with nothing more radical to give to but a research paper and some relationships.

"Wherever you turn, to your right or to your left, you will hear a voice behind you saying 'This is the way. Walk in it." - Isaiah

Lights, Camera... Action? Helloooo? ACTION?!?!

I think that sometimes I sin just because I'm bored. I do things I don't really want to do, I act in ways I didn't mean to, I give up on battles that should be easy... because otherwise... it's just... life as usual. Doing the right thing every day isn't hard... but its sameness is draining.

True confessions of a self-proclaimed drama queen - whenever there's no battle and no emotional rush life is so grey and pale and monotonous that sometimes I - invent a battle. It's not usually conscious - "Oh, woe is me, I am so very bored, I ought to sink into depression and whine to a friend because otherwise the sky shall be grey and my life shall be a pallate of differing shades of brown!". But I feel myself getting antsy, spoiling for a fight even if I won't win it, just to shake things up.

It's hard coming off of massive spiritual gains and massive spiritual battles. You have radical highs and lows, you fight important battles and sometimes you lose and sometimes you win, but you never wake up and feel like luke warm oatmeal. Things are real, God is real, temptation is real, everything is painted in such harsh and sharp colors that life may suck but it's never in danger of just being ... bland. It's like hiking. I don't mind the steep hiking as much (well, unless there's ice...) as the steady uphill that is so... boring... and hard...

So rather than be bored, you make up a battle. Or you pretend that you're still fighting an old battle. Or you succumb to the old sins because than at least something will be happening.

Adventure! Action! Tears and laughter! Sword fights! Damsels in distress!

Yes, this is where God is calling me. I do believe that my spiritual growth in "steady uphill" is stronger and more lasting than the icy-cliff-face growth. But oh God, it's so painfully - boring.

Get Out of My Head

I just really want to stop trying so frikken hard. I'm sick of trying to look good, and trying to say the right things, and trying to get good grades, and trying to make the right people like me, and trying to write wise words, and trying to Be Someone and trying to Do Something Important, and trying to impress my best friend, and trying to have everyone see the Me that I've never seen but somehow believe that if I can fool someone else into seeing it than somehow it'll be true.

Whence came all this insecurity? Whence came all this acting?

But on the other hand, I want to be good and right and intelligent which are good things to want, no? To want to be mature, and wise, and all that great stuff. There's nothing wrong with wanting to be better than one is, no? Or no?

But on the other hand, there is such a difference between wanting to be wise and wanting people to think that you're wise, between wanting to be intelligent and wanting to get good grades, between wanting to love Jesus and wanting to be a person that loves Jesus!

But on the other hand, I'm afraid that if I stop looking at myself and trying to fix myself that what I'll end up with will be a slovenly, lazy, silly, immature, unintelligent recycling bin of shredded paper. If I stop trying... than that's what I'll be. Becuase I see that my non-striving-self is selfish and immature and ridiculous. So when I am "trying to get X to like me," I am usually recognizing some wisdom or maturity or selflessness in someone else that I wish I could have, and I'm drawn to X, but the truth is that I'm not really the kind of person that X hangs out with... so I try. I try to be someone that they'll like. I act and pretend and usually end up looking pretty silly.

What am I supposed to do?

Humph, I hear the answer. (I hate it when I hear the answer to my questions...) Stop looking inside, stop looking at yourself, LOOK UP! and LOOK AROUND! You're sick of the voices inside your head? Well, stop listening to them. You aren't sick of trying, you're sick of trying for the wrong thing. Stop trying for the image, start trying for the reality. Stop trying to "be the kind of person who loves..." and start trying "to love." Stop trying to "be the kind of person who is intelligent" and start learning. Stop looking in and look up.

But on the other hand...

Or is there really no "other hand" after the command to "look up"?

The Invisible Elephant in the Room

Major lesson to Christians - you never, ever, ever know your audience.

Make a comment about the right and good Christian conservative views - the kid in the front row is just starting to check out Christianity, and he's voting for Obama.

Talk casually to a group of "close friends" about the violent, abhorrent murder of babies that women commit every day - one of them might have had an abortion.

Discuss reaching out to the "gay community" even though when you see two girls kissing it "grosses you out" - someone in your prayer group may be struggling with same-sex attraction.

We assume so much in casual discussion, but the truth is that we don't know who we are talking to, and we never will. There is never a "safe place" to talk casually or flippantly about sin that you assume is "far away" from the people you're talking to. There's never a "safe place" to demean or mock a differing political or philosophical view.

Stop assuming that everyone has the same past and ideas and sins and struggles. No, don't gloss over sin. But be aware that the moment that you say that "girls just don't struggle with pornography," the girl next to you is caught in it. When you say that "depression just means you aren't relying on God to give you joy," the faithful servant of Christ across the table has been fighting depression and loving Jesus for all his life.

A little less assuming wouldn't go amiss.

NaNoWriMo

So it's National Novel Writing Month.

I'm not writing a novel.

But I am going to try and post one blog post a day for the month of November... just for the heck of it. We'll see how interesting a blog post written under duress can be, but no matter how innane they get, I am going to do one a day this month. We'll see...