Soul Dust

Echoes from a radiant spirit {igniting thougtfulness}

[dustofmysoul]

~switching gears~

You guys. This little DustofMySoul & Tumblr community has been so so very good to me for these past few years. I’ve loved this little blog and nurtured it along and YOU HAVE READ THE THINGS I’VE WRITTEN and that has meant the world.

All that being said, I’ve found an engine that is more customizable and lends itself better to the sorts of things I post.

www.missjordanjean.com is the new spot. 

You can “subscribe” there so that when I post, you’ll get an email. 

Farewell, Good Tumblr.

[dustofmysoul]

[dustofmysoul]

[dustofmysoul]

facebook & civil discourse: A Possibility

July 8, 2015

Sometimes, I really like discussions that happen via Facbeook. 

BUT

Sometimes, I feel like comment thread commenting is a *huge waste of time.*

HOWEVER

The other day, Trent, pointed out that, really, “speaking” via social media is no different than “speaking” via a written letter and is, actually *more permanent* than speaking words in person--the majority of which are lost to the air as soon as they exit my mouth. Written letters are simply an alternative medium, but there is nothing in their essence that makes them better or worse. Just, different. It may be the case that “an opinion was never changed in the course of a comment thread discussion,” but it may also be the case that there are a lot of people who simply watch the discussions take place and who care very much about the content and the way (loving, or hateful?) in which the discussions are carried out. These are the Facebook Silent Ones who, really, have a lot to say--they just say it via other mediums. And they care. They watch. They listen. They want to see whether or not those of us doing the Furious Typing will be kind with our words; whether we’ll be spiteful and vengeful; whether we’ll take into account the fact that we’re typing at actual people with souls; whether we can be Good Humans, even when speaking over the interwebs.

SO, with that thought in mind, I have decided maybe communicating via social media is not nearly as big of a waste of time as I once thought. This most recent post (and subsequent comments) are case-in-point. I’m copying them here because I want to keep them forever, amen. 

We can learn from each other, you guys. Even via Facebook. 

I wonder if the oft touted Christian lines "be the best version of yourself; pursue your passions; be who God made you to be (AKA exactly who you already are)" are misleading...even direly erroneous.

Maybe I'm missing something (which is possible), or maybe I need to be more nuanced (also possible), but it seems to me that the over-arching messages espoused by scripture are "be like Jesus; die to yourself; obey the Holy Spirit."

In the Old Testament, heroes of the Faith were called by God to use their current circumstances/gifts/talents/selves to do God's work (Abraham, Joseph, Moses, Joshua, David, Esther, etc.)

But the New Testament seems to tow a different line. It's like Jesus arrived on the scene and said "NOW you know exactly the character of God. No more guessing games. Therefore, the only right response is to die to YOUR self so that the Holy Spirit can begin to form you into the image of Christ...and can continue to do so until The Last Day." It just seems like Christ's message is "I love you for who you are right now, but I'm telling you that *I* am The Best and therefore follow me to become like ME -- not to become a better YOU." It seems like he doesn't want us to simply "accept who we are" and end there...because God made us to be like Christ. And in our fallen state, we aren't. So if we ACTUALLY want to "be exactly who God made us to be," then I think that looks a lot less like being/accepting "exactly who I am right now" and a lot more like knowing that "who I am right now" is not very much like Christ--so I should be asking Him daily to make me more like *Him*, instead of being satisfied with me being me.

I am terrified that we, as The Church, are *saying* "be (celebrate) exactly who you are," when what we *mean* is "God loves you exactly as you are right now". The latter is true. God saves us while we are still sinners. What is also true is that He wants us to conform to the image of Christ and be sanctified.

Would love to hear thoughts on this.

(*Update: I have learned so very much from those who have chimed in, below. Please don't stop your reading at my original post. I think it would have been written differently, had I been taught/known the things written by friends below before I wrote it. So read what they've written...)

[oregontopatagonia]

I heard a TED talk about belonging and community yesterday. It said that humans developed in tribal groups of thirty people or so. And that we lived that way for a two hundred thousand years or more. It said that we’re designed to have intense bonds with a group of that size, that fights together side by side against the struggles of an unpredictable world. We crave group bonding. In modern society, where we’ve conquered nature so completely that she cowers in the caged parks.. our primary bonds as a society are small and often weak. Usually with our immediate family or a scattered group of friends across a city. I’m not sure what to do about this, or what it means. But I observe a poverty of ‘belonging’ in our culture. Maybe working at a small company with a clear purpose could be a way. Or having strong traditions with your kindred friends, things you do together, like travel or camping…. I just know that when I have a caravan of friends scaling a mountain to sleep under the sky, and one guy is setting up the tent while another is chopping onions and another is collecting wood, and more have their own jobs which may be just having a beer, the whole damn world makes sense. The truth can be hidden in a moment, too young in my mind for words just yet, but I can see it clear as day.

[dustofmysoul]

June 29, 2015

“But the godly (also: righteous) will flourish like palm trees and grow strong like the cedars of Lebanon.”

-Psalm 92:12

Today, I did a Hard Thing; a boat-rocking Thing. It ended up turning out well (they don’t always, you know), but the process of getting to today has been quite a...beast. I’ve taken a lot of darts and felt like NO ONE ELSE wanted to shoulder any of the burdens; NO ONE ELSE understood the importance of The Thing; NO ONE ELSE cared to effect change; NO ONE ELSE wanted to be courageous.

After The Thing, one of my classmates pulled me aside.

Take Psalm 92:12 to heart, she said, it's the righteous who will bend like palm trees. Think of yourself as a palm tree. You (we) are always going to be the one closest to the storm...closest to the hurricane. And the winds will be so intense that they will make you bow all the way to the ground and you'll feel like you're doomed to break...and then the storm will end and you'll stand straight again and the TRUTH IS THAT YOU WILL BE STRONGER FROM THE STORM. 

Do you know which trees BREAK in storms? The big strong ones. The oak trees break. The pine trees break. The redwoods break. All the people who seem so big and strong and loud and powerful and critical--they break when the storm comes. But you and I? We're skinny, little, paper-barked palm trees. BUT WE BEND and WE DO NOT BREAK because Christ is at our core, and He is unbreakable.

Be encouraged. We are palm trees, my friends. With Christ at our core and the Spirit of the Living God inside us, we *cannot* break--our job is always to bend as the storm rages on.

[mikedonehey]

To Hear or Be Heard

I am the chief among sinners. I’ve stolen. I’ve lied. I’ve cheated. I’ve committed adultery in my heart and murdered in my mind. I am a disgrace, a convict in need of pardon, an orphan in need of a Father.

And yet, Christ saw me, loved me, and gave Himself for me. He lived the life I could never live, died the death that I deserved, and rose again over all I could never conquer on my own.  He breathed His Spirit into me.  He broke through the stone walls of my heart and gave me a heart of flesh. He bought me. He won me. He called me His own.

So now, I give all that I am to Him.  I am His and He is mine.  He is my life and in Him I live and move and have my being.  I am not who I once was.  I’ve been remade.  I no longer come to the world with clenched fists, I come with open hands.  I do not come with a swinging gavel, I come with a life laid down. Servant to all, friend to sinners, I come the way Jesus came to me.

Which means I get to embrace everyone.

If they complained that Jesus hung out with sinners than I hope the same will be said of me.  Homosexuals, chief justices, prostitutes, picketers, preachers; there is no one beneath my service. There is no one beneath my love.  I love those who disagree with me. I love those who boycott me. I love those who tell me I need to stand for truth and I love those who tell me my truth is not theirs.

I get to love everybody.

Of course, the question remains, how do I do that? I mean, practically speaking, how do I truly love people? What does that even mean?  What does it look like?  Does loving someone mean agreeing with everything they do and everything they are? Can you even love a culture who feels hated if they’re disagreed with? How do I love the souls with differing beliefs, especially when minds are made up on two opposing sides? How do I build bridges to Jesus and to others? And in what ways could I be unknowingly burning those bridges down?

I don’t think I have the answers figured out on many of these, but I do know this, I am not called to judge the world. It’s true. Especially if you believe the Bible is true, because Paul even agrees;

“When I wrote to you before, I told you not to associate with people who indulge in sexual sin. But I wasn’t talking about unbelievers who indulge in sexual sin, or are greedy, or cheat people, or worship idols. You would have to leave this world to avoid people like that.” (1 Corinthians 5:9-10 NLT)

I also am quite certain I’m to offer my two cents with supreme tact and kindness.

“Gently instruct those who oppose the truth. Perhaps God will change those people’s hearts, and they will learn the truth.” (2 Timothy 2:25 NLT)

James echoes this thought when he says the wisdom of God is first of all pure and kind and adds, “Understand this, my dear brothers and sisters: You must all be quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to get angry. Human anger does not produce the righteousness God desires.” (James 1:19-20 NLT)

So let’s recap. I am loved by God and have been given the ministry of reconciliation. In spite of all I’ve done to undeserve His love, He has won me back and invited me to be a part of His work. That is, I’m here to tell people God wants them back.  I get to tell the world God wants them. How do I do that?  Well, I don’t have it all figured out, but I know it does include laying my life down, serving like crazy, not judging, being gentle, listening, and not getting angry, because anger does not produce righteousness.

Got it.

Now, what does that mean for gay marriage?

To say the decision today was a big deal, is a gross understatement.  I wouldn’t even call it “landmark,” I would call it; “nuclear.”  The Supreme Court ruling sent supporters into the stratosphere with joy. Rainbow flags blew up the internet while #LoveWins came straight from the oval office. Furthermore, it sent adversaries into a state of mourning. Doomsday prophecies abounded.  Fingers were pointed.  Prayers were offered.  Hard lines were driven into the sand. I posted a pic without really thinking saying the decision was “historic.”  In a few minutes, I was labeled a heretic, a hero, and a demon; and I didn’t even think I had offered an opinion.

I scrambled. I regretted posting anything, I felt like I was in the middle of a cultural crossfire and I was being commanded to choose; with the only two sides being avid support or open hostility.  I didn’t want to be a proponent of either.  

So I sought solace from my sister and as always, she helped ease my mind. First, she reminded me how the internet gives people all the authority and none of the responsibility to say things they would never say to someone’s face. She also called to mind how Jesus seldom gave people a straight answer, particularly when they weren’t motivated by love.  My friend Audrey pontificated with me via text;  "I don’t understand when the church got co-opted by the idea that legislating morality was the same thing as preaching the gospel. The sooner we stop trying to run society and start loving our neighbor, the sooner the Church gains footing in people’s lives and is able to welcome them, teach them, whatever. Why wring our hands over the culture? If the Church starts to experience persecution, so be it.“

And that’s just what I want to say to you.  What if we stopped trying to be heard and just tried to hear?  What if we served people so well, they were desperate to hear what we thought, because they knew we truly wanted what’s best for them?  That kind of love is more like what I saw Jesus doing.

It's…incarnational.

It’s Jesus coming and living among us for thirty years, before He did one miracle.  It’s the kind of love that’s messy and practical and can never be lived out on a soap box.  It’s what we were made for.

When I was working at a church in Florida, I had the privilege of mentoring several young men who were experiencing an overwhelming flood of same-sex attraction.  It was strange how many came to me at the same time.  To be perfectly honest, I didn’t know how to respond.  I had never dealt with the issue personally, so I couldn’t offer meaningless rhetoric like, "yeah dude, I totally know how you feel.”  And since no one I knew was friends with anyone who was homosexual at the time, I felt so powerlessly under-prepared for the conversations that followed. I mean, what do I say?  "God hates that you know?“  "You really disgust me man, you should try liking women instead?”  Of course not!!!  They didn’t need me to tell them they were going to hell.  They didn’t need to be told their sin was worse than mine.  They had enough condemnation heaped on them to last several lifetimes.  You know what they did need though?  They needed to be heard.  Seen.  They needed someone to hug them, cry with them, listen to them.  They needed a friend who wouldn’t run in disgust, but run to them with open arms.

And you know, that’s still the case.  Today, I have several gay friends and family members, and if they don’t want to hear my stance on their sexuality, I don’t offer it.  Maybe that sounds bizarre to you, but after the friendships I’ve built and the conversations we’ve had, I’m quite convinced when it comes to the deep places of a person’s heart, like their sexual desires, the privilege of speaking to those things is something that must be built with time and trust. And it must be asked for, not thrown down from above.  If you recall, Jesus didn’t even reprimand the wiring of the woman at the well, He simply asked her why she hadn’t come to Him for water.

Maybe the biggest thing I’ve had a hard time with today, is the sentiment that it’s my job to tell the whole world how to live.  Maybe it has to do with growing up in a Capitalistic society, or maybe it’s just a result of the digital revolution where something can be seen and shared by hundreds of millions of people in a few hours, but either way, I firmly believe it isn’t my calling to steward the morality of mankind.  I’m simply called to make disciples.  And that, is a down and dirty, one person at a time kind of a calling.  It’s small, often times thankless, and it’s not a campaign.  It’s a kingdom. LIke Paul said, I’m not called to judge the world, I’m called to love the world. I’m not even called to change the world, that’s the Holy Spirit’s job.  I’m to simply introduce people to Jesus, and let Him do the rest.  If He is life, my job should be to bring others to His arms, and let the power of His love shift their thinking.  I make the introduction, but Jesus wins their heart.

So, with that, let me remind you of a few last things.

If you follow Jesus, He hasn’t promised you a government, but He has promised you a kingdom.  He hasn’t promised you freedom from persecution, but He has promised you His presence in the middle of it.  He hasn’t promised you fame, money or prestige, but He has given you the treasure of Himself, and a whole world to share with.  So let’s share Him like we have nothing to lose and everything to gain.  Let’s share Him by sharing ourselves, and that starts with our ears.   I bet when we put down our megaphones, we’ll find a world out there, waiting to be heard.  And when they know we truly want to hear, they just might be interested in what we have to say.

[dustofmysoul]

empty chairs & empty tables...

June (I think) 24, 2015. 21:51.

I’ve been awake since 5am, was in a psych ward (where I mostly listened to heart-wrenching stories, prayed a lot, and shed tears) from near-then ‘til 1600; worked out ‘til 1700; showered; sat in traffic; spent $6.11 of my tip money on Chik-Fil-A; and now I’m sitting in the coffee shop where I work on Saturdays...alone, because it’s been closed since 19:00.

I’m working on a group project, the subject of which is “Fetal Scalp Electrode Placement,” and I’ve got about 12 tabs open--half of which are Google Docs/Google Slides/Google Hangouts as my group tries to “work together” to get this thing finished up and presentation-ready for tomorrow. I *really* despise group projects. If you’ve ever been forced to do one, you understand the vehemence with which I typed that statement.

The only reason I’m writing (really) is because I felt the need to explain my recent absence in the blog-posting world. Mostly, this post functions as a place-holder so that when I’m reading back through here someday and wonder what happened during the summer of 2015 that made me so infrequent-of-a-writer, I’ll be reminded “you were taking 18 hours of nursing school classes, helping your family move back to Oregon, working on Saturdays, doing rotations in an acute psychiatric hospital, writing a collaborative devotional, and trying to be a good friend via snail mail and group text; the end.”

So here I am. In an empty coffee shop that closed hours ago. I spend multiple evenings/nights a week in this state, since I don’t have internet in my apartment. I actually kinda like it here. Except the strange noises coming from the dark kitchen make my heart race, sometimes.

I guess...maybe...the psych hospital isn’t sounding too shabby, at the moment...

Here’re some selfies of me wishing I had more coffee, as I sit here in sweats and an oversized flannel, with wet-braided hair so that I can “sleep in” tomorrow and still have “good hair” for our (business casual) presentation. Excuse the desperate/psychotic-looking one at the end and the fishy-lip-seductive one at the beginning and the one in the middle that looks like I’m making out with my coffee cup. I *really* needed a break from reading Medscape...thanks for indulging me.

The end.

[dustofmysoul]

[dustofmysoul]

when Neville Longbottom grows up.

June 4, 2015

Whenever I see pictures of how much my hair has grown in x amount of time, it gives me pause. Time is such a strange phenomenon. Hair growing longer is, for me, a picture of the reality that time does, indeed, pass. I was telling a friend last night that I still feel like I’m 16 and should be driving down an old logging road Friday night after the football game to find a creek and sleep under stars for the weekend with my buddies. I also feel like I’m still ten and it’s midnight and I’m under a blanket with a flashlight reading an entire Harry Potter book through the night because my dad took me to Barnes and Noble to get it when they released it at 9. 

I saw a picture of “Neville Longbottom” (Matthew Lewis) last night, and thought to myself: “WOAH, HE SURE GREW UP FAST!” And then I realized...wait, we were kids together. I was a kid watching him as a kid on the Big Screen. Does that mean *I* look like a grown-up now too?!? Because in my mind, I’m still an eleven year old little girl and I’ve got a crush on “Neville all grown up.” I feel like time passed in his life, maybe, but not in mine.

But alas. I am not ten or eleven or sixteen. I’m twenty-two. It’s as if one day I just woke up and Adulthood was like “HERE I AM! You won’t feel any different inside but I’m telling you you’re different. Little kids look UP to you (and up *at* you) as if you’re not one of them.”

It’s the same phenomenon that happened when I was helping my parents move a couple weeks ago and was up late one night going through my “box of letters.” I was trying to figure out which ones to keep for a while longer and which ones were okay to part with. Buried in a stack was an old envelope from “Soldier Matthew.” 

When I was 7 or 8, my teacher had us write letters to soldiers in Iraq and Afghanistan. I wrote one to “Soldier Matthew,” and he replied. He said it was the first he’d ever replied to, on tour. I was so excited to have gotten a letter from a real live soldier. I kept it, tucked away among the stacks, for all these years. I never forgot him--in my mind he was always this Hero--so much older than me, so much wiser, so much more learned. 

So a few weeks back when I was digging through the stacks and re-discovered the envelope addressed in his handwriting, I opened it up. “Dear Jordan, I’m twenty years old and am currently in Afghanistan...”

I stopped there.

Wait. TWENTY? That is two years YOUNGER than I am right now. When sent this, I was a little girl in elementary school, and now I’m two years older than he was when he wrote it. That means he’s in his FORTIES now. I feel like a kid, and I’m 22. HE WAS ONLY 20.

It was strange rediscovering that letter after all these years and realizing how much time has passed since he penned its words. And how I’m no longer a seven year old girl heroizing a twenty year old soldier...I’m now a 22 year old woman reading correspondence from a man who may now have kids of his own.

I wonder if he’s still alive. I wonder if he made it home. I wonder if he’s married. I wonder if he remembers writing a little 2nd grade girl in white keds who wore matching bows and sundresses.

Crazy.

[dustofmysoul]

just a worm...

June 4, 2015

Most days, I carry my little blue bike out the front door and down a flight of stairs to street-level and use my little legs and two wheels to get to school. It’s usually a 15 minute ride, give or take, depending on the traffic and the amount of road/sidewalk construction around which I have to navigate. These days, the rides are extraordinarily hot, and I’m all sweaty-like by the time I walk in the door for lecture. Air conditioning is a nice thing.

The pedestrian traffic around the med center is pretty heavy, so by the time I get close to school I often find myself saying “excuse me....sorry, thank you so much...” to people of all sorts walking in front of me on the sidewalk. This morning, there were two heavy-set janitor/maintenance guys near the parking garage. One had a long dark braid down his back. They were chatting about life and the day in front of them. “Excuse me, sirs,” I said politely. They each took to a patch of grass on either side of the path to let me through. “Sorry, ma’am. We didn’t hear you coming!” Oh, no worries at all...thank you so much!

A few turns of the wheel later I glanced down to see a fat, long worm flip-flopping on the hot cement. Without so much as a second thought, I dismounted, put down my kick stand, wrestled with the little guy until I could grab him, and tossed him aside into the grass. I didn’t think much of the effort--it was instinct, really. I then remembered the men behind me and realized that, with my abrupt stop, they were probably close to catching up. So as to not cause them to have to slow their pace waiting for me to go, I hurriedly hopped back onboard and began to continue on my way. As I reached for the handlebars, the one with the dark braid looked at me with teary eyes and said, “that was awfully kind of you.”

“Well, he was going to die on the hot cement!” I exclaimed.

“He sure was,” the gentle man said. “He sure was.”

“Have a wonderful day, sirs!” I shouted back behind me.

“You too, ma’am. You too.”

Now I don’t always dismount to save soon-dead earthworms from frying on hot sidewalks. In fact, before this morning, it had been a while since I’d done so. But as I parked my bike and walked into school, it gave me pause. Why would I do such a thing...ever? It’s only an earthworm. There are millions of others. Millions of them die every day. Plus, stopping made me sweatier. It was an inconvenience. It made me arrive two minutes later than I would have had I continued on my way, and two extra minutes to study for my impending OB quiz would have been crucial.

I don’t really have any answers that make sense. But what I can say is this: there is something that happens in my soul, in our souls, when we make a hard stop and do something for someone (or something) else that benefits us in no otherwise tangible way. I cannot explain why, upon seeing that little worm, I completely cut off my hyperfocus of needing to get to school and, without second thought, hopped off my bike to save him. I really cannot. Sometimes, things like that simply aren’t measurable by our limited human standards. But maybe my inconvenient kindness made that pony-tailed man’s heart stir just a little. Maybe he’ll remember my act when he’s confronted with an annoying co-worker later today and think to himself, “if a little sweaty blonde girl can save an insignificant earthworm, I suppose I can be kind to the human standing in front of me.”

Or maybe, next time he sees a dying earthworm, he’ll think to stop and toss it into the grass.

Maybe you will, too.

[dustofmysoul]

June 3, 2015

Spent today (and will spend every Wednesday for the next ten weeks) in a psych hospital. My eyes were opened like never before to the nature of mental health illnesses. Daily, let's work to increase our empathy toward each other. We might not be able to fix the world's problems--some are simply too big and complex to be solved this side of Heaven--but we can *listen* to each other. We can try to understand each other. We can ask tons of questions. We can extend grace and charity. We can take time out of our crazy-busy lives to fully attend to "interruptions," and we can treat one another with dignity and a level of brokenness that says, "hey, we're all in this together, friend." Massive amounts of respect for the tireless servants working hard in their professions--the nurses, the moms, the businessmen, the baristas, the garbagemen, the post carriers. Be kind; for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. 

[dustofmysoul]

Sunday Afternoon Musing

May 31, 2015

I went to church this morning. It’s been a long time. Truthfully, I’ve gotten really worn out by “cool” churches with theology that is off-kilter and teaching that is, at best, superficial and at worst, not Gospel-centered. I had clinicals on Sundays last semester, so that didn’t help my “I should find a church” cause either because, well I simply couldn’t. 

So this morning, I found myself driving by myself to a church that had been recommended to me by my parents’ (beloved) pastor. I sat in the back, by myself, next to a girl who arrived late like me. We had walked in the sanctuary door together, and she started “looking around” as the congregation sang. I figured she was looking for her friends, so I pretended to be looking for mine too. After a few minutes of my game, she pointed to two seats a couple rows from the back and said, “looks like those are free. Let’s sneak in?” Wait, me? You’re asking me to sit next to you? You weren’t looking for friends-already-here all along...you were looking for seats for....us?

I thanked her for inviting me in, and we listened to the pastor preach on 1 John 1:1-4. It felt so right to be back in a place teaching from Scripture. Without any sugar-coating. Straight-up exegetical. Straight up about Jesus Christ--and the truth of who He is. It felt good to be sitting among people who were listening not because the preacher was eloquent and entertaining but because they were thirsty to learn exactly what God’s Word has to say. It felt good to worship with a small band, sans all the flashing lights big shows. Those things aren’t all bad...it’s just that I’ve become jaded a bit because I have watched all the Smells and Bells become the objects of people’s affection, and that is really hard to see.

It’s funny that we started in 1 John. It was about this time, one year ago, that I was starting my summer as a counsellor at Kanakuk K-1 in Branson, Missouri, and we were very thoroughly reading through and studying that very book. It feels strange to be at the beginning of a Not Summer right now. I’m in 18 hours of classes + 3 labs + clinicals. It’s the first Not Summer I’ve ever had...which means that last summer was the last Real Summer I’ll ever have. The days of 3 months “off in the sun” each year are over.

I made my way to a coffee shop down the street after the service so that I could sit here and study for the rest of the day. I don’t have internet at home, which makes for a logistical conundrum on most days. But it’s alright. Coffee shops are nice. 

Once my self-control timer ended, I checked my Facebook. In my inbox was a message from an old high school friend. He was wanting to engage me in the gay-marriage debate, since I post stuff so often about it. It was a very kind email, and had many good points and questions. I was happy to hear from him.

 This is one thing he said, and then he attached his friend's blog post:

I have an acquaintance at Seattle-Pacific that I think you should read (whenever you have time haha). For one thing he is an incredible writer and I find he is worth reading based on this alone. Besides that, he is also Christian, gay, and one of the most authentic people I've ever met. He has written some pretty articulate discussions about Christianity and gay culture/identity.

I sent him a quick note informing him of my receipt of the email. Those little “read” blurbs at the bottom of Facebook messages are so ambiguous because when I send an email, see it’s been “read,” and then the recipient doesn’t reply for days/weeks my immediate thought is that I said something catastrophically offensive or hurtful. To avoid that ambiguity, I try really hard to send a personal “got it--will reply as soon as I can. Thank you!” remark when someone sends me an email with content that could be perceived as touchy.

I told him  I had every intention of being dilligent and "finishing my studies for the day" and putting his email off for however long it would be before I "had time" to answer it. My curiosity and heart, however, had different ideas.

I read the post.

Erik is right--Sam is an incredible writer and also an authentic man. The post made me cry. I REALLY think it's worth reading. I've linked it below. I don't really have a lot to say about it (not even sure *what* to say), except that it, in ways, softened my heart for the Christian men and women who are gay. I think my heart becomes calloused to the PEOPLE over time because the debates get so ugly and filled with such incorrect “facts” and statistics that I just write people off as "unthoughtful" and "wrong." I start to become more concerned with the debates than the brokenness of the people (on both “sides” involved in them). It is really important for me to be brought back to the heart of PEOPLE sometimes....and to simply sit with them in their pain. This post did just that. 

Anyway, here it is. I really think it’s worth your time. I also would love to take Sam out for a cup of coffee and just have a conversation with him. I think he’d genuinely listen to my questions and concerns...and I think he would be kind in his replies. I think he would hear where I’m coming from in all of this--and I think I could be honest with him. I don’t think he’d mind. 

Thanks, Sam, for your courage. Thank you for speaking gently and honestly on this issue. Thank you for softening my heart for PEOPLE facing brokenness/struggle/frustrations of all kinds. I do not dismiss the brokenness of these past years of your life.

 http://samuelernest.com/2013/03/07/the-end-of-a-silence/

[dustofmysoul]

Recent Thoughts on Gender..

May 30, 2015

This is a conversation had via group text a couple months ago, between my best friends and I. 

Me: What did Facebook just announce? http://qpolitical.com/what-facebook-just-announced-is-an-attack-on-biblical-values-i-wont-stand-for-this/ Ah, this. Jesus, come soon. My heart breaks for this world. Absolutely breaks.

Friend 1: Gender... What an interesting topic Interesting... What a value neutral word meant to halt all intentional conversation. Forreal though, I doubt the 1st century gentile or Jew had a concept of Gender...

Me: FRIEND 1-I literally was typing almost this exact same thing when you sent it. Lol. Brain wave. So instead I will validate you, since you already said everything of import 1) yes, interesting serves that exact purpose 2) YES EXACTLY. That we are even having this discussion is indicative of the sickness of our current world. We are so sick, so very sick. As evidenced, in part, by the fact that a concept that has been black and white since the beginning of time is now so...translucent. And what's worse: we are completely unaware that what I just said is even INDICATIVE of sickness. It doesn't occur to modern humanity that there is a PROBLEM here. THAT fact, in itself, is even more indicative of how the sickness has permeated deeply and widely.

Friend 2: Wow j, thanks for sharing that. That makes me so sad and confused. I mean, I just wonder what that must be like.. To have so many options in front of you for what to call yourself and thereby how you relate to others Studies show that the more options we have, the less satisfied we are with our choice. So interesting I love the word you used J.

Can something become translucent because we call it translucent?

Friend 1: Exactly, this cultural enshrinement and idolatry of choice--endless choice!-- to define oneself in every arena. We forget that it all equates to how many ways we can be autonomous, masters and commanders of our lives, how far man can become the measure of all things, to what extent can we control nature, our very selves; which necessarily excludes obedience to an outside lawgiver... aka God.

Friend 3: ^So true!!!

Friend 1: In short, Obedience vs. Autonomy. The latter is the guiding light of the self-made American hero, rousseau's romantic individual divorced from place, family, tradition, lived-out values, cultural context, or obligation to his roots. I think of the movie blue like jazz

Me: ↑ amen. Imagine how broken someone's soul must be to be conflicted as to what gender to call themself. Like of all the things we should be certain of in life, absolutely certain of, gender is top 5; right up there with needing oxygen. So to be uncertain of THAT (to be ALLOWED to be uncertain of that) must cause so much turmoil. The problem, like Friend 2 said, is that our society has MADE it an option. It becoming a choice LEADS TO gender uncertainty.

No different than the anonymous clicker quiz we took in health class when I was 14 and one of the questions was "what is your orientation?" And the options were 1) heterosexual 2) homosexual 3) undecided

"UNDECIDED?!" I remember thinking. "How has this become something 14 year olds just get to DECIDE?!" Can't we just assume we are heterosexual (like, natural) until we need to consider otherwise? Why are we given a CHOICE to be undecided? That only creates more uncertainty. ↑ those were the thoughts going through my little sophomore brain And YES, I believe things become what we call them. Things end up taking the shape of their name.

If society names a girl "fat" her whole life, she will most likely ACTUALLY grow into that name.

Words are the same.

If we begin to say gender is translucent, decideable, there will come a day when it actually IS. When we have believed the lie for so long that it has actually and literally become a reality. Woe the day when the lies we concot become our realities...

Friend 1: This is straight outta Lewis' abolition of man. He thought liberalism--rights of man to free speech, expression, self-governance-- insofar as it neglected the "Tao" or first principles, natural law, judeo-Christian values, etc, would eventually lead to this: personal "re-creationism". We are creating man, we are creating ourselves, we are even creating our progeny (via genetic recombination) into OUR OWN IMAGE. Whatever we want! God's image is done for, the only standard left is one we decide for ourselves.

Me: Lewis was right. So are scriptures. We should not be surprised. But I am so broken, always, over the state of things

Friend 1: We are way too serious a bunch..

Me: ↑ NO! There are enough un-serious, apathetic, "you do it your way, I'll do it mine," people in this world. We MUST maintain our seriousness about these issues. These things simply matter.

Friend 3: Turn up. Shat that’s good, Friend 1! Dang J, I remember thinking the same thing in my typical Boulder middle school sex-ed class. It’s crazy how autonomy has become the greatest value in our society - I think it goes hand in hand with the moral relativism that seems to dominate our culture. And the idea of an individual person having an individual “orientation” is pretty new - before the 1700s, orientation was always referred to as a society’s “orientation”. Crazy how language can shape our thoughts and our actions.

Me: And Friend 1-YEP to all you said. The day when WE ourselves are the standard-setters is here upon us. I suppose it has been since the Garden of Eden. That is Hell. When we give ourselves over to ourselves. When. We. Become. God.

Friend 4: The media frenzy on the Indiana law is where it's at right now. The liberal sexual movement snaps and all fall in line. No tempered discussion whatsoever. Check out your boy Ryan Anderson on MSNBC, etc doe

[wnq-writers]

They say I am a poet that my words make her beautiful; they don’t understand that I am not. I think that the sea is deep and blue and that is as far as I can go with expressions, they don’t understand that she is poetry and I am just reading.

VàZaki Nada  (via wnq-writers)

[timmanley]

For a year, a filmmaker friend and I kept an email correspondence. We asked each other the questions about making art we felt weird asking elsewhere. We told the stories we don’t usually share publicly.

The project was a way to feel less alone in what can sometimes feel like lonely work. (I posted a comic about why it was great to do it, and a comic about how you can try it yourself.)

I think it’d be worthwhile if others tried doing it too. And we’re offering up our letters as proof / a starting point / volunteer tribute.

You can read them on your own and feel less alone on your own artistic what-am-I-doing, or you can read with a partner who you’re trying the project with.

I’m someone who prefers reading books that are over-the-top-intimate, and more personal than polished. I’m also a big fan of interview podcasts, but I wish they got closer to the secret things the artist is scared to say aloud. If you’d like a behind-the-scenes look at making a book from a tumblr, and then trying to make another book, and trying to sit down every day and make art and make it your life, I don’t imagine it gets more behind-the-scenes than this.

If any of this sounds good to you, you will like this. You can check out the book here.

(You can also check out our secret release gathering.)

Any thoughts / questions?

[mikedonehey]

The Bachelorette, the Currency of Sex, & the Spirit of Divorce.

I sat down with my wife last night to watch “The Bachelorette."I know. I know. Bad move.  Such a bad move.  I think I could actually feel my soul dying inside.

I had never seen an episode before, but let me tell you, watching one girl simultaneously date a group of competitive suitors is not my idea of a good time.  At first, it actually made me physically nauseous witnessing a group of grown men literally fighting over one woman, who, might I add, showed no restraint of her own sexual appetite whatsoever. I just kept thinking, "That’s all this is; a competition.  These guys have no idea who this girl is. They don’t want "her,” the person, they want “her,” the prize. They would rather use sex to win, than be known and loved for who they truly are.“  I turned to my wife and said, "Do you think these people need counseling after this?” It all felt set up to be purposefully and inevitably emotionally devastating.

The episode ended, and I was consumed. I seriously couldn’t even get up off the couch.  I was stuck in my head and couldn’t get out.  I ranted on Twitter.  I tried to watch ESPN to turn my mind elsewhere but I just couldn’t shake the melancholy.  It was all right there on primetime ABC.  A live in color picture of where this generation’s sexual values are.  It seems like we have embraced sex as nothing more than a consumer good.  I could almost hear the heart of God breaking.  Covenant and commitment are not only unnecessary, but seem to be unwanted hindrances in today’s dating economy; while using your body as advertising has become the norm.  I think that’s what got me writing this blog at the moment.  I can’t get over the idea we were never meant to use sex to convince someone to stay with us.  Rather, we were meant to glory in the gift of sex by employing its power to celebrate the safety and the mystery of loving one person forever.  Sex wasn’t meant to be currency, it was meant to be cement.

Come to think of it, a girl once told me that in high school.  She said, “Sex is supposed to be cement for the soul.”  At the time, I thought she was crazy, now I think it’d be crazy not to believe her.  Seems to me, the show, though obviously hyped up by television and marketing dollars, was painting a vivid picture of how many people view marriage, sex, and dating.  I call it, “cultivating the spirit of divorce.”  

We call it, “covering all my options.”  But no wonder over 50% of marriages end these days. I mean, in our dating lives we get closer, emotionally and physically, until we find out something we don’t like, and then we split.  Of course that mentality carries over the walls of wedding vows.

Here’s the thing though, my mom is smarter than me.  

I remember when I first starting dating my wife and she said to me, “Oh I like her. You should marry her!” “Mom!” I choked in disbelief, “We’ve only been dating a few months.” “But you’ve known each other for years right?” She countered. “Well yeah, but I just don’’t know how compatible we are.  I need to figure it out.” My mom was cutting into my relational consumerism, and I didn’t like it. “Mike,” she went on, “Here’s the thing.  Do you think your father and I have been married over 30 years because we’re perfect for each other?  Not a chance.  Even if we were perfect for each other back then, we wouldn’t be any more, because people change.  So, to stay married, you have to commit to keeping up with the other person’s changing, and keep asking God for the grace to love whoever they become.”

Like I said, she’s way smarter than me.

My friend Zach and I were on a run the other day, and he put it perfectly, “Choosing to love one woman for the rest of your life is a far far wilder ride for your heart than promiscuous sex will ever be.”  I love that, makes me feel like we’re all worth a lot more than we think.

So I don’t know if any of that makes any sense to you, but I want to say to anyone single out there, don’t believe the lie you have to let them sample the milk to buy the cow.  It’s simply not true.  In fact, I’ve witnessed it over and over again, more often than not, when you get physical too quickly, it only clouds how connected you really are. I believe the physical was really meant to be the cement on top of the foundation of emotional and spiritual connection, not the other way around. Mortar works best when you have bricks already to work with.

Married peoples of the earth, remember, you’re displaying something much more powerful than yourselves by staying married.  Your covenant to one another displays not just your own love, but testifies to the covenant keeping grace of God that Christ has for his bride the church.  

And to us all, sex is God’s gift, to become a living gift to someone who will give all of themselves back to us. It speaks to us but a shadow of the intimacy we were created for.  Or to say it this way, if your lover wants your body, but won’t give you the promise of forever, that kind of sex, sex without covenant, lacks integrity. It says, “I’m willing to give you my body, but I’m not willing to give you my life.”  And my friends, our God wants more for us.  We are not currency. We are His.  We’ve been bought with a price, we are not our own, therefore, honor that love with your body.

[dustofmysoul]

Sex is not currency, it's cement. Amen, mike. Amen.