Mere Christianity

Have you ever watched a movie or read a book or maybe it was just something somebody said to you that really clicked with you? It just felt like it was exactly what you needed at that moment? Well, if you haven't I pity you and hope you can relate to what I'm going to say here.
In this particular case it was a book for me: Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis. I wasn't exactly planning on reading it either. I just grabbed it off the shelf because we were leaving to go on a road trip and I had nothing really brilliant to read at the moment. Ha. Well, brilliant sure came along.
The first chapter that really hit me hard was the chapter on Pride (oh yay!). He says, "...the more pride one had, the more one disliked pride in others. In fact, if you want to find out how proud you are the easiest way is to ask yourself, "How much do I dislike it when other people snub me, or refuse to take any notice of me, or shove their oar in, or patronise me, or show off?" The point is that each person's pride is in competition with every one else's pride" (110). What got me in this particular quote was how much pride I was reading it with. In all seriousness when I started reading it I was like, "Psh. So and So should really read this. And you know what, those other people geeze. Pride commin out their lil ears." Sick. And then I got to the part with the question and I asked it to myself. It took more than a moment until I realized how even one of the most despicable sins can just become so normal, so "innocent" (in a sense) that I don't even realize it's there. I really hate it when people shove their oar in.
The next part that really hit close to home was when he said, "For Pride is spiritual cancer: it eats up the very possibility of love, or contentment, or even common sense" (112). With the situation with my Papa, saying pride is like a cancer was really quite alarming to me. I don't want that, but yet it's probably unavoidable considering that I can't even recognize my own pride. Okay, so right about here I was thinking that I probably don't want pride in my life. But, what do I want? "Every Christian is to become a little Christ. The whole purpose of becoming a Christian is simply nothing else" (154). Every Christian knows that Christ was the ultimate human example yeah yeah. But it's the second part of the quote that made it stand out to me. Being like Christ is the whole point of being a Christian. Woah. Hold on a second. I kinda enjoy the sweet things I get out of being a Christian. But that's not the point, at least not the main one. Being a Christian is worth being like Christ just in and of itself. Its not what we personally get out of believing in Christ, but just being in Christ.
"Give up your self, and you will find your real self. Lose your life and you will save it. Submit to death, death of your ambitions and favorite wishes every day and death of your whole body in the end: submit with every fibre of your being, and you will find eternal life. Keep back nothing. Nothing that you have not given away will ever really be yours. Nothing in you that has not died will ever be raised from the dead. Look for yourself, and you will find in the long run only hatred, loneliness, despair, rage, ruin, and decay. But look for Christ and you will find Him, and with Him everything else thrown in."

Come And Find Me

If I could trace the lines that ran
Between your smile and your sleight of hand
I would guess that you put something up my sleeve
Now every time I see your face the bells ring in a far-off place
We can find each other this way I believe

From the hills and up behind, my town
is naked from the horizon down
The curvature is pressed against the raise
We walked up in the fields alone
And the silence fell just like a stone
That got lost in the wild blue and the gravel grey

Come and find me now

Though I'm here in this far off place
My air is not this time and space
I draw you close with every breath
you don't know it's right until it's wrong
You don't know it's yours until it's gone
I didn't know that it was home ‘til you up and left

Come and find me now

I keep you in a flower vase
With your fatalism and your crooked face
With the daisies and the violet brocades
And I keep me in a vacant lot
In the ivy and forget-me-nots
Hoping you will come and untangle me one of these days

Come and find me now

[Josh Ritter]

God Loves

I've never really known much pain before. I live in a nice house, with a nice family, with nice friends and a nice school. Sure, I've had the best friend who somehow becomes your not-so-best friend and the occasional glitch in the road, but never pain at its core. These past couple of days though I've known true, raw sorrow. Sorrow where it hurts past the point of feeling. It's just there all the time. I've learned to cry. Not crying like we typically think of it today, but some sort of broken crying. A crying where I don't even know I'm crying. Crying out to the Lord to try and make Him make me understand.



My family and I have been dealt quite a bit of rain this week. On Tuesday my Grandfather (my Mother's Father) went to the doctor. They found a mass in his lungs. He went to the Hospital. They gave him 3 liters of blood. He had a byopsy on Wednesday. He came home on Thursday. Friday, today, he went back to the doctor. They told him he has four months to live and possibly eight with treatment. I cried my broken cry again.


There is hope though: God loves. It's so simple, yet so complicated. God loves. He loves me, He loves my Papa, He loves my family. He loves. The best part of it all though is that even when I forget, He still loves.

***

"My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?
Why are You so far from helping Me,
And from the words of My groaning?
O My God, I cry in the daytime, but You do not hear;
And in the night season, and am not silent.
But You are holy,
Enthroned in the praises of Israel.
Our fathers trusted in You;
They trusted, and You delivered them.
They cried to You, and were delivered;
They trusted in You, and were not ashamed.
But I am a worm, and no man;
A reproach of men, and despised by the people.
All those who see Me ridicule Me;
They shoot out the lip, they shake the head, saying,
“He trusted in the LORD, let Him rescue Him;
Let Him deliver Him, since He delights in Him!”
But You are He who took Me out of the womb;
You made Me trust while on My mother’s breasts.
I was cast upon You from birth.
From My mother’s womb
You have been My God.
Be not far from Me,
For trouble is near;
For there is none to help."
--Psalm 22: 1-13

This One's For The Girls

I suppose it's not that uncommon of a thing to love somebody you've never known. But, I find it strange nonetheless. Often times I wonder what it would be like to have a grandmother. I imagine that the world would seem a lot bigger and my own tiny trials not quite so important. One of my brothers has a particularly good relationship with my grandpa. They like whack down bushes and wash their cars together and stuff. I wonder what that would be like with a grandma. Would I go shopping with her? Would we stay at home and sweep the floor or would we goof off while we were supposed to be working? Would she laugh at the crazy things I do to my hair? Or would she help me in it all? Would she be so set in her ways that I would have to change to be like her? Would she be amazing like my mom? Or would she be more like one of my sisters? Would she tell me stories? Would she love puzzles like my Aunt? Or perhaps she would even stay up late and eat ice cream with me. Or maybe she would be one of those types that would laugh with me at the strange people at school, like my dad.
I don't know the answers to any of these questions. And I'm not totally sure that I want to know. Whatever she was like though, I know I'd love her simply for who she was and for who she made me. It's a strange thing not ever knowing somebody that you love and who is so much a part of who you are.



















Maybe I'm biased but, I think they are pretty much two of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. Huh, and they just happen to be family...



So, here's to you both. I love you.

a note on being happy

Recently I was told something very interesting. Probably the most interesting part was that it was hardly interesting at the time, but I just kept thinking and thinking about it. So, anyways, I was told that this person was raised to believe that the life of a Christian is always supposed to be happy and cheerful and non-depressing because, after all, you're saved and your sins are forgiven you. I kinda laughed at this in my head and then I started thinking about it. That's when things always start going South, isn't it? When I start thinking about things. Anyways, I started thinking about how this is exactly how Christians are raised today: be happy. Be happy even if it means some sort of cheesy smile to get you through the day. Just, be happy.
Do you know how disturbing I find all of this? If I recall correctly Jesus wasn't exactly "happy" about dying on the cross. In Luke 22 He says "'...yet not my will, but yours be done'". Jesus Christ is the perfect example and He wasn't "happy" as we think of it today--what feels good or pleases yourself. That's not what Christ had in mind at all. His joy rested on what God wanted for Him.
When I started thinking about this, I realized that it kinda turned our culture upside down a bit. But, you know what, it's something more than just "being happy". In fact, I don't think it's about something as shallow as "happy" at all. Dude, this is about joy in Christ. Not in yourself, your family, your life or anything else (even including the fact that some lucky people get two spring breaks. Ah, the bliss...). The hardest part about all of this, I find, is that joy in Christ doesn't always equal personal happiness.

/sigh/ I will just stop being happy now, I guess. /sigh/

A Ticking Time Bomb

Today was a great day. Well, almost every day in my life is a great day, but this day was so great that it's (obviously) worth a blog post.
Perhaps it had something to do with all that caffeine and sugar I had at an insane hour.
So, we're all sitting there in the very bleak classroom. With very bleak attitudes. And, most likely, even more bleak little grey cells. Even the light was bleak and the colours.
It's that shy, quiet girl's turn to read aloud. I was looking forward to it--I want to get to know her better. Anyways, the professor calls on her to take it to town. She agrees. And then she just sat there. And sat there. And sat there. Finally the awkward silence is broken when she finally decides to start.
And then the person in the next class room decides to drag his (most likely a "his"...) desk across the floor.
She decides to read louder.
He decides to drag louder.
She decides to read even louder. I didn't know quiet girls could shout. Was she angry? Or just annoyed?
He gives up. I was glad because I don't think her voice could go louder and I don't think my funny bone could take it anymore. Why does everybody look so serious? It's cool though. If anybody so much as cracked a smile at me, I think I would explode. With spit and perhaps some tea as well. It would probably compliment that stark chalkboard. Right in the middle there. Yeah, there. Oh wait. This is serious. The girl is still reading and I haven't caught any of it. Pay attention, Aly. No laughing. No smiling. Nothing. Just listen.
Is she crying? She is crying. Well, this is great. A crying fest. If I was paying attention I would've realized that the main character just killed himself. So utterly ruthless. This girl had strong emotions for him. Didn't she know he would die in the end? I think he at least knew he would kill this girl's ego when he died as well. He wanted to make me laugh. They're all out to get me, I know it.
And then he felt the need to drag his desk again. With all of Hades backing him up. I thought these walls were sound proof?
And then she raised her crackly voice. And he raised his desk and slammed it down. And the tears came gushing out of her eyes. And I realized this was entirely not funny. If I started laughing they would kick me out of class. My grade would go down 1%. That shy girl would hate me forever and I would probably never flash her a smile ever again. Could we even be facebook friends? I think not.
A ticking time bomb. That's exactly what I was. The way the teacher's shoes flopped on the floor were really funny. Ah, how about the way Mr. Smart hit his head on the desk trying to grab his flyaway coffee cup. And that bug. It was getting close to the vent.
Pay attention.
No.
Yes.

She stopped reading. The teacher thanked her. Thanked her, I tell you! Thanked her for putting me through boot camp! Through a hike in a straight jacket and ski boots. Then she told us we could go. And I rushed out that door. And ran. I died a cruel death this day. I never knew laughing could hurt so bad.
A great day regardless.