I have to admit that, for much of my life, I was a lousy eater. Initially it was because the food in our home growing up wasn’t much to look forward to. We were a big family with very little money.
In an effort to economize, my mother used a cooking technique known to ‘poor folk’ as stretching. Read more “You Are What You Eat”
Surf the web at your own risk these days. Save for a few adorable videos of dogs and ducks becoming best friends or fluffy kittens playing with turtles, everything else seems to be about the sharp divides in the realm of politics, society and religion. In all my years on this planet I can’t recall a time where our society was more divided …or fraught with more people actively being divisive.
We can’t safely have philosophical differences and privately stand for or against a different ideology anymore. We have to choose a side and actively join the fight to either dominate or be dominated by those we disagree with. Read more ““Them’s Fightin’ Words!””
The way we communicate with the people in our own family is very different from the way we communicate with people outside our family.
I grew up in a family with eight children. That’s a big family by any measure. I was number seven. Being number seven meant that I missed the coveted position of being the “baby” of the family by one. Just one. I thought about that a lot growing up. Full disclosure, my sister, Gael, is my favorite person on planet earth, but not so much while we were growing up. I was a tiny bit jealous of the attention she received and the deference she was afforded when she misbehaved. And, let me tell you, she was a little stinker! But, because she was “the baby” she almost always got let off the hook. Who wouldn’t envy that?
But I digress…
Inside our families, communication is raw, unbridled and unfiltered. Brothers and sisters rarely repress the urge to tell you what they think of you. Inside our families, we are brutally honest with one another. Brothers and sisters don’t hesitate to ask hard or embarrassing questions and will tell you how they feel whether you want to know or not.
Likewise, parents aren’t usually shy about confronting their offspring. In our family, my mom and dad made no bones about calling us out and correcting us in front of the whole tribe. They rather capitalized on the opportunity to make an example of us to the others. I imagine they hoped we’d be smart enough to learn from the mistakes of our brothers and sisters so they’d be spared having to teach the same lesson eight times over.
Raw, unfiltered, honest and uncomfortably confrontational. That’s how most families communicate.
There was little chance of getting away with anything in my family. Not with as many as seven siblings there to make sure they weren’t blamed and punished for something they didn’t do. Fingers pointing in every direction; “Wasn’t me, Kevin did it!” “Uh uh, Sharon did it!!” “NO! It was Gael’s fault!” (That one never worked) We didn’t care who got thrown under the bus so long as it wasn’t us. Kangaroo Court was held in our living room practically every day of the week! Raw, unfiltered, honest and intensely confrontational. That’s how most families communicate.
How we communicate outside our families is different though.
Most of us would never talk to our friends the same way we talk to our brothers and sisters. We may be honest with them, but we usually apply some sort of filter to avoid hurting their feelings. We may feel a sense of duty to be honest …but not too honest, with our friends. We avoid saying things that would alienate them or jeopardize our friendship. Unless it’s something terribly egregious, we keep our admonitions light hearted and respect our friends’ right to do as they see fit. After all, we reason, who are we to judge?
Barefaced honesty has its place. Used properly, it builds character and defines the boundaries of what is acceptable. When it comes from a stranger, however, it rarely causes anything other than anger and hard feelings.
Unless you were hired for the job, chances are, your negative assessment of a stranger’s behavior or character won’t be welcome or well received. Even if what you have to say is true.
You simply cannot speak into the life of a stranger in the same way as those who are close friends or part of your family. It is simply not your place.
I believe we could calm much of the contempt and vitriol that presently shrouds the Christian community by applying these same rules of communication to our church families.
If you are close to a brother or sister in Christ or they are part of your church family, you should have permission to speak into their lives. Not as raw, unbridled and unfiltered as with our actual brothers and sisters perhaps, but honest nonetheless.
We should feel a responsibility to lovingly go to one another when we believe our brother or sister is courting sin or living contrary to what we say we believe.
We should speak up when we hear gossip, coarse talk, dishonesty, or see poor character displayed in some other way.
We have a right to expect our brothers and sisters to ever increasingly take on the character of Christ and represent Him (and us) well when they go out into the world.
We have an obligation to our church family to lead by example so as to help those who are new to learn where the boundaries of our society are. Gently, sincerely and with integrity. But if we don’t know them or they are not part of our family at all, we need to back off and keep our opinions to ourselves.
We simply cannot speak into the life of a stranger in the same way as those who are close friends or part of our family. It is simply not our place.
Some of us spend far too much energy berating people we don’t know. We take even greater liberties confronting people who aren’t yet part of the Family of God.
It doesn’t matter if what you are saying is right or true or good. Only those who have the indwelling of God’s Holy Spirit have the ability understand what you are trying to say.
“The person without the Spirit does not accept the things that come from the Spirit of God but considers them foolishness, and cannot understand them because they are discerned only through the Spirit.” 1 Corinthians 2:14
Not only do we waste our time confronting non-believers about issues that only matter to believers, we’re adding to the noise, anger and rebellion against our Christian values in the United States. Not to mention the very important fact that we need to turn our attention and efforts toward cleaning up our own act. We’re called hypocrites because there are so many hypocrites among us.
Not only do we waste our time confronting non-believers about issues that only matter to believers, we’re adding to the noise, anger and rebellion against our Christian values in the United States.
Imagine what could be different if we left the world alone for a minute and turned our attention back toward ourselves.
Imagine what could be different if we stopped railing against the values and behaviors of people who aren’t submitted to the Lordship of Christ and found the courage to lovingly object to the behaviors of the people in our own congregations who say they are. Admit it, there is at least one person that comes to mind when you think about a church member who could use a little intervention.
While we live on this planet, it isn’t enough to belong to the Family of God. It’s our job to contribute to the health of our family and protect the values. Don’t demand the world live up to standards we are unwilling to live up to ourselves.
I’m just being honest.
In His love and service,
Sharon Bollum
It breaks my heart to know that though most of American society had come to see the enslavement of our black brothers and sisters in the mid-1800s as inhumane and unrighteous, the most vocal opponents to the abolition of slavery came from within the Church. Perhaps you would have been on the side of those Christians who voted to end slavery, but there is no denying there was a very large number of Christians who strongly believed that owning slaves was their God given right. So sharp was the divide that denominations were forever split over the issue.
According to Wikipedia:
“Passages in the Bible on the use and regulation of slavery have been used throughout history as justification for the keeping of slaves, and for guidance in how it should be done. Therefore, when abolition was proposed, many Christians spoke vociferously against it, citing the Bible’s acceptance of slavery as ‘proof’ that it was part of the normal condition.
In both Europe and the United States many Christians went further, arguing that slavery was actually justified by the words and doctrines of the Bible.
[Slavery] was established by decree of Almighty God…it is sanctioned in the Bible, in both Testaments, from Genesis to Revelation…it has existed in all ages, has been found among the people of the highest civilization, and in nations of the highest proficiency in the arts.
— Jefferson Davis, President, Confederate States of America[118]
… The right of holding slaves is clearly established in the Holy Scriptures, both by precept and example.
— Richard Furman, President, South Carolina Baptist Convention[119][120]
In 1837, southerners in the Presbyterian denomination joined forces with conservative northerners to drive the antislavery New School Presbyterians out of the denomination. In 1844, the Methodist Episcopal Church split into northern and southern wings over the issue of slavery. In 1845, the Baptists in the South formed the Southern Baptist Convention due to disputes with Northern Baptists over slavery and missions.[121]
Some members of fringe Christian groups like the Christian Identity movement, and the Ku Klux Klan (an organization dedicated to the “empowerment of the white race”), and Aryan Nations still argue that slavery is justified by Christian doctrine today.”
Today’s modern Christians would surely bristle at the thought of fighting FOR slavery. No Christian I know would sit still for being accused of having any alignment with the Ku Klux Klan at all. That begs the question; when did The Church finally reach the conclusion that owning a human being and forcing them to live their lives in servitude was morally wrong… EVEN THOUGH THEY BELIEVED THEY HAD SCRIPTURAL BASIS TO ARGUE FOR IT?
For long after slavery was abolished (way too long) many Christians treated their black brothers and sisters as an inferior race. I remember when the marriage of a black person to a white person was considered indecent and immoral. In my own lifetime, I’ve watched our culture evolve and come to recognize that race is a nonissue in marriage. Most decent and mature people don’t think twice about mixed-race marriage these days. We came to see that what we previously believed…was simply wrong.
You may be wondering why I even bring it up now. After all, it’s a part of our regrettable history, right? Wouldn’t we be better off letting bygones be bygones and allowing the past to remain silently in the past? No. I don’t think so. George Santayana wisely said, “Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.”
It seems to me that we are only repeating history with our war against freedom and respect for the LGBTQ community. The parallels are ubiquitous.
What did we lose when gay people gained the right to be married? What chaos has resulted? My sexuality is not threatened and neither is yours. My life has not been changed and neither has yours. I promise you that only those people who desire to be in a same-sex marriage will enter a same-sex marriage. And, what would we have gained if we’d been successful in defeating gay marriage? Control over the sexuality of others? Hardly. Was it just our attempt to keep them living in a state of disapproval, inferiority, and alienation? Probably. But, my friends, is that righteous?
God is glorified each and every time we choose His way over anything that leads us to sin. I stand alone before God for my choices. I can’t choose for you and you can’t choose for me. I can’t bring God glory by forcing you to believe as I believe or live as I live. Forcing another person to conform to a standardized determination of God’s will is what the ancient Pharisees did to the early Church. It’s what the Europeans did to the Native Americans when they first arrived in the “New World”. Not for nothing, but the “sexuality” of the Native Americans was one of the primary reasons early settlers believed they had to be converted to Christianity. Was God glorified in that? No, He was not.
This country became a much better country when it began benefiting from the gifts and talents of our black brothers and sisters who became free to pursue exploration, education, and leadership in science, medicine, and public office to name just a few. The only people who suffered when slavery was abolished were those who built their wealth on the backs of those they enslaved. And it is essential that we know slave owners were NOT all white. Not by a long shot. There were black slave owners AND slave traders too.
How will our religious liberties crumble by allowing our LBGTQ brothers and sisters the freedom to pursue all the same joys in life and marriage that you do? Your religious beliefs should define and govern the decisions you make for yourself. They should not govern others.
Christ never dishonored another person. He lifted up those who were derided by society and castigated those who had mistreated them. He called the oppressed His friends. Even the criminal who hung on the cross next to Jesus was promised a place with Him in heaven. God only knows the sort of life that man led or how unworthy his crimes had made him. He reached out to Jesus and Jesus accepted him just as he was. Despite the fact that he didn’t repent or ask to be forgiven or promise to turn from his ways if Jesus would save him.
It’s not our place to say who the blood of Christ will cover and who it will not. It flies in the face of the Love we proclaim to withhold kindness, blessing, compassion, and generosity of spirit to our gay, bisexual, lesbian, transgender, and queer brothers and sisters. MANY of whom share our Christian Faith! We are to love one another just as Christ loved us. Freely and without reservation (John 13:34). Stop treating them like they should be legally bound as slaves… to your view of Christianity. That’s not the battle you should be involved in.
This brings me to the point:
I’m not trying to tell you what to believe. I’m trying to tell you that we are waging war with the wrong people. No doubt by the deception of the enemy, we see the LGBTQ issues as the front lines in a war on morality when in reality, our doing so has only allowed us to be flanked by the true godless who are taking ground right from under our feet. We should be standing together against the anti-God movement which is parlaying political correctness into government encroachment on our religious freedoms and individual rights as Christians in the United States.
If you want to fight for The Church, turn your attention toward the attacks made on our freedom to teach what we hold to be true inside our places of worship. We should be far more outraged by attacks made against our right to pray and share the Gospel on all government-owned property and public places. If you want to take a stand, stand against anti-God attacks made against Christian schools and their ability to receive government funding. And we darn sure ought to fight against the efforts being made to scrub the foundation of our nation from all evidence that it has always been “In God We Trust” in America.
It’s one thing for one to be against gay marriage, quite another for a minister to be legally bound to officiate one even if they really and truly believed they’d be going against God’s will to do it.
What is more important; the national freedom of religion, religious expression, and religious protections under the law OR fighting over who gets to marry whom or who gets to use which bathroom? One has little if any effect on your life and the other could mean the end of life as we know it as Christians in the United States.
We are being attacked on all sides and we’re spending all our energy trying to enslave people whom God made free. Never before has the phrase “Mind your OWN business” had greater consequences.
It’s a Free Country. Let’s keep it that way.
In His love and service,
Sharon Bollum
We can’t demand the world accept and respect our religious freedom while simultaneously disrespecting and denying freedom to others (unless we believe hypocrisy to be a good thing). Those who are only interested in preserving the freedoms that they personally consider worthy can’t truly say they value freedom.
I stand ...and I will fight for my religious freedom, but I do not feel that my freedom should dictate society or circumvent the freedom of others. Not for nothing, but our trying to do so, seems to me, to be one of the biggest reasons Christianity is losing ground in America.
Freedom is at the core of our identity as human beings. Were it not so, we wouldn’t fight so hard against being enslaved. Not only do we naturally resist it, but our very spirit withers and dies under the weight of slavery imposed on us no matter where it comes from.
The thirst for freedom is born the moment babies realize they have the power to wiggle across the floor on their own accord. Watch any toddler being prevented from the freedom they feel entitled to and you’ll see a brand of rage unmatched by any other emotion. Our entire childhood is the evolution and discovery of our freedom and the boundaries that must go with them.
God, most of all, values our freedom. Whether we believe it or not, we live under His sovereign control though, in His infinite wisdom, He rarely exerts His control above our free will. If having slaves were His desire, every man, woman and child on the planet would be at His feet. But it isn’t slaves He desires, it’s children. Children who are free to love Him or not. To serve Him or not. To choose Him or sin. His desire is that in our freedom – we wouldchoose to love Him and live according to His will. His will, ironically, is that we would not be enslaved by our sin.
Two thousand years ago, church leaders perverted God’s word in an effort to control the culture. They had strayed so far from the ways of God that their desire for holiness had been completely replaced by their desire for human power and greed. But despite their arrogance, God didn’t abandon them. He sent His son to draw them back to the path He intended for His people. Not with more laws or threats of destruction if they didn’t obey- but with irresistible love and unreserved forgiveness.
Christ came to show us the way to please God and restore our relationship with Him. It wasn’t imposed on us. To this day we remain free to reject Him. Without freedom, following God has no meaning. Without freedom it is impossible to glorify God.
It baffles me to no end that so many in the Christian Community are fighting for laws that will force their version of Godly standards on the whole of society whether they know and love God or not. It would be one thing if they used their energy to instruct Christians to be better people and better examples of Christ’s love -but that’s not what’s happening. Arguably, if we used half the energy demanding that Christians conform to godly standards as we do demanding the world outside the church does, we might solve more problems than we cause.
Have we have become as self-serving and hardhearted as the ancient Pharisees? Why, in the midst of a society fraught with brokenness and need are we best known for our determination to force others, by law, to conform to our standards? It’s an ever increasingly ugly battle with untold casualties. At the end of every day, we stand bloody and battle worn… with nothing GOOD to show for it.
If the Church is in decline we have only ourselves to blame. We should not be using our religious freedom to circumvent the freedom of others. It’s time to stop waging war with society and take up the fight for righteousness among the people of God. Christ won people over using the law of attraction and so must we. He said “the world will know you are my disciples by your love”.
If laws were the answer- Christ died for nothing. Human power will never build the Kingdom of God. Only hearts transformed by the love of Christ can further the work of the Gospel and change this world for the better.
You may be able to fight fire with fire, but you can’t protect religious freedom in the United States by denying the freedom of others.
In His love and service,
Sharon Bollum
I probably should have avoided reading the posted comments below a recent article about Donald Trump on a Christian News service.
Truth be told, I should know better. I have been gut-wrenched by caustic comments written by non-Christians against Christians and Christians against non-Christians many, many times before and it always hurts my heart to read them.
This time, however, it was a Christian website.
The nasty comments that scrolled on and on were aimed at Christians by other Christians…again.
I felt frustrated as I read the things they said to one another.
I felt sad about the ugly things they said about Donald Trump…even though some of it was absolutely true!
It wasn’t enough for them to respectfully disagree with one another, they had to spew insults and accusations about one’s intelligence, poor spelling, or the ability to properly interpret scripture.
Most outrageous were those who called into question the salvation of those who disagreed with them. What???
Before you jump to any conclusions about how I feel about Donald Trump let me tell you straight up. He embarrasses me.
When he calls himself a Christian and then says and does things that fly in the face of how a Christian ought to behave; he does so before a huge audience of unbelievers who judge us all by it.
But I don’t hate him. He is not our enemy. And if he becomes our next President I will afford him the dignity and respect that goes with the title. Even if that’s hard to do.
If Hilary Clinton becomes the next POTUS I’ll offer her the same….but I must confess I’ll be tied up in knots about it! In either case, I will continue to fight for Christian principles and stand against any policy that I believe would grieve the heart of our Father.
Trump calls himself a Christian. Clearly his transformation is in its infancy. But like there is no such thing as being a little bit pregnant, there is no such thing as being a little bit Christian.
I have encountered a LOT of people who claim to be Christians but don’t project or convey any of the Christlike qualities one should expect from someone who claims to be a Christ follower.
I find it exceedingly ironic that the toxic dump against him on the internet comes from Christians whose behavior is just as unbecoming as Trump’s is.
So, I did it. I shared my opinion too. Only it wasn’t in favor of or against Donald Trump. It was my prayer that the people of God would consider the speck in their own eye and allow God the purview over His son, Donald Trump.
Here is my post:
“Oh dear God, how I grieve for your people. Just listen to the way they talk/post to one another. Fingers pointed, judgments flung left and right. Scriptures and parables used like weapons meant to offend and discredit their brothers and sisters… and even question their salvation!
It must hurt Your heart so much, Jesus, to see that those people who claim to be Your followers don’t come even close to exemplifying your character when it matters the most. They value only their own opinions and have the audacity to claim that only they, and those who agree with them, are properly aligned with You.
YOU ARE GOD ALONE. Your Word says that the heart of the king is in the hand of the Father. Don’t they remember that YOU are the Hero in our Story?
Don’t they understand that what the enemy intends for evil You will use for our good?
Haven’t they read in Your Word how many times You used the most unlikely and unqualified to accomplish Your goals?
Yes, Mr. Trump is about as flawed as they come. But what can YOU do through him?
How long does it take for a mind to be changed?
How long does it take for a heart to be changed?
How long does it take for a character to be changed?
Does it not all happen in the miracle of ONE moment when YOU are in the midst of it?
ALL THINGS ARE POSSIBLE WITH YOU. Do they think Mr. Trump is beyond Your reach? Is it possible that those of Faith…have no Faith in You?
Father God, I beg You to touch the hearts and minds of your children. Remind them of how much we can accomplish if we come together as the Family of God in this world.
Holy Spirit, teach them to pray for our leaders rather than publicly disrespect them and one another.
Convict them in their hearts and minds with the knowledge that their arrogance and unkindness before the unbelieving world does far more damage to advancing Your Kingdom than a president ever could.
I ask this in Jesus’ Name, Amen.”
Christian, I hope you will join me in praying for our leaders.
Remember that God can do anything with a willing heart.
An open door is open if even only a crack.
In His love and service,
Sharon Bollum
I loved my dad. I almost always felt safe with him while I was growing up. My earliest memories of being his daughter were… mostly wonderful. As little girls, my sisters and I often fought over whose turn it was to sit in his lap while he watched TV or listened to music. When it was my turn I relished every minute of it. I loved curling up against his warm body and feeling his strong arm wrapped around me. With my head leaned against his chest, I could hear his heart beat. I loved hearing his heart beat. It was loud and strong and inexplicably soothing. I also loved hearing him sing. My dad had a beautiful voice. As much as I loved leaning against his chest, it was hard to do that while he was singing. The percussion of his booming voice inside his chest was almost enough to burst my eardrum. But rather than get off of his lap I would just raise my head an inch or so, so I could still feel the love and warmth of sitting in his embrace.
When I was a little girl, my daddy was my hero. I adored everything about him. I happily spent hours outside watching him work on the family car. I tried not to notice that he didn’t seem to be very good at it. No matter how much time and effort he invested in “fixing” or “tuning up” our cars they still sounded like tanks, still spewed black smoke like a locomotive and were still prone to stalling out at stop signs and traffic lights. But if the amount of grease and oil on his hands and face were the measure, my dad was a great mechanic. In my eyes, he was great at everything!
If you asked me to describe my dad when I was a child I would have told you he was the smartest and greatest man on earth. He was loving, tender, thoughtful and handsome. He seemed to genuinely care about us and what made us happy. But that wasn’t all that was true about my father. It was also true that he had been a violent alcoholic who suffered prolonged bouts of depression. The darker side of my father cut a swath of destruction that crippled the people in my family. No matter how tightly I held onto the highlights reel, the truth is that who he was as a father set a tragic trajectory for our lives.
There was no escaping the truth or the consequences. There were eight children in my family. Four are already dead and one will spend the rest of his life in prison.
I tried to understand my dad and give him grace. I suppose it would be fair to say that what I was really doing was looking for excuses for him. I simply couldn’t reconcile the things that broke my heart with the greatness I wanted to ascribe to him. Long after my mother divorced him and my siblings gave up on him, I still tried to hold on.
It was when I became a parent that I stopped making excuses for him. Knowing that there was nothing I wouldn’t do for the benefit and welfare of my own children I could no longer reconcile the many ways that he let us all down. Ultimately, I gave up on him too.
Though we had been estranged for several years, I was with him when he died in 2002. I held his hand and wept as he slipped away. Not only because he was dying, but because his dying meant that there was no more time for him to change. No more chances for him to become the father we always wanted and needed him to be. No more chances for reconciliation. In a way his death was his biggest abandonment of all. I wasn’t bitter but I was bereft.
Grief is a terrible thing. When coupled with so much brokenness … the grief is never ending.
Over the years, a larger picture of my dad came into focus. He was one of five children. Losing his father in a lumbering accident when he was only four years old was just the first of the many tragedies my dad would endure.
I don’t know my grandmother’s story very well, but I do know that she drove her five young children to the outskirts of town and left them under a tree. She said she was going into town and would come back for them later. She didn’t. The five children were all alone without food and with only the shelter a maple tree could provide. The oldest, my aunt, was only eleven or twelve. My dad was four years younger than her. The youngest was a six month old baby girl. For days the oldest two did what they could to care for the rest. They took turns going into to town to steal what they could to eat. Ultimately someone noticed and called child welfare. My father and his siblings were rescued…only to be sent to live in orphanages. The youngest were taken in by families but the older kids languished in an institution for years. He had lost his father and now he had no mother. He decided there could be no God either.
When he was barely sixteen, to escape the orphanage, my father lied about his age, forged some papers and joined the army. After a few weeks of basic training he was off to kill or be killed in war. He may have been physically able but in the ways that mattered most, he was too young to go to war. So young that even though he survived it physically, he was devastated psychologically.
My dad told us a lot of stories about his time in the military. Most featured himself as a great soldier but there was one that was awful to hear. Every time he told it there was a shadow that filled his eyes. I sensed that he was seeing the scene play out in his mind as he spoke. His squad had stopped for some rest and a quick bite to eat. He and his best buddy sat next to each other on a barricade made of sand bags. Halfway through his sandwich the sound of a distant rifle blast and the whooshing sound of a bullet flew right past his nose. He turned to see if his buddy had heard it too. But his friend was slumped over and dead. The bullet that had so narrowly missed my father had hit his friend right between the eyes.
No one knew what Post Traumatic Stress Disorder was back then. I’m not sure our society would have offered the appropriate sympathy even if they had. Men were only allowed to be strong and brave. No other emotions allowed. Real men sucked it up and carried on.
It was only in putting my father’s history in context with my own that I found out what I needed to know. What can the world expect from a person traumatized at an early age and robbed of all connection and emotional support families are meant to provide? What does family even mean to someone who has no framework or foundation for understanding it? Add to that the crippling psychological pain of PTSD… and Depression… and copious amounts of alcohol to wash it all away. Wrap it all up in the belief that there is no God and no redemption and no purpose in any of it. What kind of a husband is he capable of being? What sort of Father can we expect a man like that to make? The one I got.
I know in my heart that my father would have been the great man my 5 year old self believed him to be…if he was able to. But how can I harbor anything against him now? I can’t. I grieve for both of us. Neither one of us got what we needed in our childhood. Neither one of us got the Father we deserved.
Maybe you had an awesome childhood with a wonderful father. If you did I’m genuinely glad. But maybe there is someone else in your life that makes you relate to my story. Who is it that broke your heart? Who let you down? Who have you given up on? I bet if you could know how and why they came to be such a person your anger might be replaced with compassion.
We all carry both light and darkness within us. Unless someone is actually evil (and that is hardly EVER true) the things they do to hurt others comes from a deep well of insecurities, gaping wounds and pain we don’t understand. The same holds true for all of us. Whether we realize it or not, it’s those broken places in us that cause us to hurt others.
“Hurt people, hurt people” as someone once said.
In Luke 6:37 Jesus said, Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.”
I suppose the saddest thing about my dad was that he never knew the healing power of the Holy Spirit in his life like I do. It’s hard for me to not anguish over what could have been.I know it was the Grace of God that changed the trajectory of my life. And by His Grace I was given the time to share that with my dad just before he passed away.
I held my father’s hand and did my best to lead him to our Lord. I have talked to a lot of people about Jesus over the years. I don’t know if I’d ever win awards for eloquence but I always try to make the moment as beautiful as it feels in my soul. This time the words were all tangled up in the heart of my five year old self. “Jesus is here for you dad. Nothing else matters anymore! He loves you and He wants to forgive you. Do you want that, Dad?” …By this time my father was no longer able to speak or open his eyes; but he could still respond with facial expressions. “I want you to go to heaven, Dad. I want to see you there some day. Do you want to go to heaven, Dad?” I watched him raise his eyebrows and form an expression I’d seen a thousand times before. ‘Well, why not?’ Of course I don’t know that for sure. I do hope though. I pray that I’ll have the chance to celebrate Father’s Day with a father who’s been healed, made perfect and filled to overflowing with joy.
In His love and service,
Sharon Bollum
Years ago Robin Williams starred in the movie “Hook” where he played the part of Peter Pan. He had grown up since we first met the character some decades ago and had forgotten all about his life in Never, Never Land. In one particular scene he is sitting around a banquet table with dozens of children who are all excitedly enjoying a banquet that Peter can’t see. He would love to join them, but the table he sees is covered with empty platters. The Lost Boys are all exclaiming how wonderful the food tastes as they shovel empty forks into their mouths. Poor Peter is frustrated because he’s hungry and unable to partake in the feast.
Church can feel like that sometimes… a roomful of people feasting on food that seems to exist only in their imagination. A shared illusion. And to the visitor it can seem either fake or contrived… sending them away in disgust. Believing that there just is no There, there. Believing that church is a waste of time. Or worse, believing that they have just witnessed a close encounter with God and walked away Empty. Hungry. Discouraged. Bored. Disenchanted.
We have created a dilemma. In a church service like that, the observer either has to join in the imaginary feast and pretend they received their fill, or they must suffer feeling alienated because they somehow weren’t able to see what everyone else seemed to see. They may conclude that they are somehow lacking in discernment. Thinking perhaps they just don’t have “eyes to see”.
I have met a lot of Christians who told me they weren’t growing or weren’t “being fed”, or they weren’t getting anything out of the messages at their church. Why? Did they have a really boring pastor? Were they putting any effort into learning and growing? Did they expect to be spoon fed? What was really going on? What needs aren’t being met? Fed what? It can’t be Scripture because they own the same Bible their pastor does and they can read it anytime they want to. It isn’t Sunday school or a small group because those are easy to find and join any day of the week. Fed what? What exactly are they hungry for?
When you’ve committed your life to Christ and faithfully attend services every week, how is it possible to still feel empty? How is it possible to still feel so far away from God? Why do so many leave church feeling like they are still missing something?
No one has a true heart-to-heart with the Spirit of God and walks away hungry.
I’ve come to believe this is what’s missing for a lot of Christians. Church leaders are often more concerned with getting people to commit to their church than they are in fostering the disciplines that lead us to have an ongoing, dynamic and authentic heart-to-heart experience with Jesus Christ. This practice has left us, as a community, anemic and hungry for more. We’ve been conditioned to believe that our church has a program to meet our every need for Spiritual growth but it doesn’t. Truly, one can go his or her entire life attending a church but never experiencing God. Because our Spiritual growth isn’t programmed – it’s pursued.
“I grew up in a Christian home. I grew up with a mom and dad who loved Jesus. I grew up in a church and for whatever reason what I perceived to be Christianity was very hollow to me. I walked away from what I considered to be the faith at that time. The reason I make that distinction is because what I think I rejected wasn’t Christianity. I think I rejected a form of moralism that had a Christian veneer on it.” Pastor David Ritchie, Redeemer Covenant Church, Amarillo, TX
If you’re wondering how long it’s been since you last felt truly engaged with the Holy Spirit during a church service…it’s been too long.
Each one of us must take responsibility for our relationship with Christ and our spiritual growth and maturity. Only then will we be equipped for the mission given us more than 2000 years ago. It isn’t enough to go to church. It isn’t enough to know that your pastor uses the Bible. It isn’t enough to go to Sunday school or belong to a Small Group.
If you are a Christian then your walk with God is meant to change you more and more into the likeness of His Son. If you can’t honestly say that you are more like Jesus this year than you were last year that’s a problem. Do not be content with a stalled-out spiritual journey. If you’re not growing -you’re not on mission.
We must not be content with simply attending church. We must stop evaluating our churches by the bells and whistles. Programs will never make us stronger Christians. Commitment to having a dynamic, personal relationship with our Living God will make us stronger Christians and turn us into the kind of people who draw others to the cross. We have to stop looking to things outside of us to cause our inward changes.
A lot of times we go looking for a church when we don’t know what we ought to be looking for. If I can answer in the negative, what you don’t show up looking for is ‘will they babysit my kids? Will they entertain my students? Do they sing the type of music I like?’ We are not consumers shopping for products that we want… If you come shopping you’re totally missing it because when you do join a church the intention is that God has you connected to a Body. You’re a part of that Body. You’re a body part and you exist there to function for the good of the body… Don’t ask, “Am I finding what I’m looking for here?” Ask, “Am I finding a place where God wants me to serve? God has wired me up so I can fulfill a specific purpose for His body somewhere. Is that here?” God is calling you to be a member who serves, not a person who just receives. Pastor Andy Hale, First Baptist Church, Mt. Juliet, TN
Christian, if I succeed at anything, I pray it is this; that you would know that your life and how you live it as a disciple of Jesus Christ is your testimony to the world about Christianity. What does your life tell your family and friends about the redeeming grace of Jesus Christ and the transforming power of His Holy Spirit? Your Spiritual growth is in your hands. Our faith is being marginalized more and more every day in our nation. We have no one to blame but ourselves. We demanded an amenities based church with something “fun and engaging for every member of the family” rather than a spiritually rich experience that leads us to meaningful growth. But we can turn it back around. We can become something new in Christ today.
In His love and service,
Sharon Bollum
Yesterday my husband, Mike, and I were driving home from a wedding I had officiated about two hours away from where we live. Along the way home we had to make a waypoint stop in another city. Our grandniece just graduated from high school and we were invited to her celebration.
We’d never travelled this route before so we were very happy to have the assistance of our car’s navigation system. My dear husband has his own built-in navigation system and he is forever second guessing the car’s. A practice I find alternatively amusing and frustrating. I keep expecting the lady in the car navigation to speak up one day and say, “Mike, why don’t you just turn wherever the heck you want to and leave me out of it!?”
The route, at first, wound through long country roads lined with almond and walnut orchards and occasional sunflowers. The scene was a lovely contrast to the busy concrete suburb we live in. I enjoyed the ride. Long country roads have a way of seeming like forever though and it can seem, after a time that perhaps we’d missed a turn somewhere. I looked at the navigation screen. The solid blue line assured me that we were still on the right track.
After about forty five minutes we found ourselves turning through the streets of a city again, following the signs to Highway 99. Road construction caused a series of detours that only our navigation system could follow. Or so we thought. We expected the onramp to Highway 99 to be right around the next corner, but no matter how many turns we made to follow the detours, the onramp to 99 never appeared. Instead we found our navigation unit had rerouted us. Our new route was on surface streets that lead through some pretty sketchy areas…with no signs for highway 99 anywhere. On both sides of the street were dilapidated homes with more garbage than grass in the yards. Graffiti (not the artistic kind) could be seen on the sides of just about everything; including cars parked along the street with cinderblocks where the tires used to be. I wondered if the graffiti and missing tires were related events or if the graffiti came only after the immovable cars became part of the landscape of the neighborhood.
I looked at the navigation map. The word “Rerouting…” appeared, and not for the first time that day. Each time we turned off from the originally planned route, “Rerouting…” appeared on the screen with an hourglass icon to convey some new thought had to be put into figuring out how we were going to get where we were going. A moment later an updated route was displayed on the screen. Sometimes, the “time to destination” changed too. Boy, that can be disheartening, can’t it? Is there anything worse than seeing your estimated time of arrival suddenly jumping up by ten minutes? Already the ride that we thought would take us about 45 minutes had turned into more than an hour.
We passed by small neighborhood owner-operated shops named after the people who owned them, I imagined. Bob’s Corner Market, Cecil’s Garage, Lucy’s Load and Go… Most had iron security bars on the windows. Signs of poverty were everywhere. Even my six year old Honda seemed like a luxury car in comparison to those we shared the road with as we worked our way through the neighborhood.
My heart felt heavy for the people who lived there. Perhaps because I still remember when I lived in neighborhoods that looked just like this one. It’s a pretty safe bet that most of the residents owned television sets. They can see how different their surroundings are than the ones they see on TV. It isn’t as though they don’t know that their living conditions aren’t as beautifully groomed or comfortable as those enjoyed by many people in our affluent nation. I don’t suppose anyone is particularly happy about living in a poor neighborhood. But most accept that it’s either the best they can do or, worse, all they deserve. That’s how I felt when I was a kid. I genuinely believed that the world that surrounded me was the world I was meant to have.
There was a billboard on the other side of the road. “We buy ugly houses” was printed in four foot letters. “I bet that’s the most lucrative business in town” I said to my husband. Still another twenty minutes to go.
Rerouting…
My mind began to wonder. How many wrong turns had my life taken? How many times had God rerouted my life? How much of my life was spent in poverty as despairing spiritually as physically?
I grew up surrounded by uncertainty and chaos. The only things plentiful in our house were anger and criticism. Insecure and afraid I bumbled through life trying to keep my feet on the ground and my head held high. Mostly I held it pretty low though. Because we moved a lot, it was hard to have friends. Because we were poor, there weren’t opportunities to join any sports or learn ballet. There were six girls in my family. Five of them were beautiful. I was the ugly duckling. I did well in school but that wasn’t something acknowledged or celebrated in our home. Don’t ask me why. I didn’t have a lot of reasons to feel good about myself. Don’t laugh, but despite all of that, I always had some strange sense that there was something good inside me. I didn’t know how to define it. I didn’t believe I deserved it. Nonetheless, it was there and I knew that whatever it was, God had put it there.
It’s strange and confusing to walk about believing you’re worthless, while also believing God placed something wonderful inside you.
When I set my mind on God I felt stronger. Like I was on my way to something great and my life mattered. But that wasn’t very often in my early years. I spent way too much time looking in the other direction. It’s tragic the choices one makes when they don’t believe their life matters. Reckless. Dangerous. Regrettable.
Rerouting…
Today I can’t help but wonder how close I am to being whom or where God originally had in mind for me to be. It makes me sad, sometimes, when I think of the circuitous route I took to the beautiful life I’m living today. I have a loving husband, three amazing children, one terrific son-in-law, another great guy betrothed, two adorable grandsons and two precious dogs (full disclosure, I am leaving out the mean-spirited feral cat that my daughter Kelsey gave to me for my birthday 9 years ago. I’ll say I love him, but I can’t say I’m especially grateful for him). I have wonderful, awesome friends all around me. None of it would be if I ALWAYS turned the wrong direction. None of it would be if I’d have fully given in to the hopelessness I felt so long ago.
I am deeply grateful to God for all the times He rerouted me when I turned off in the wrong direction. I have many, many reasons to feel grateful for my life.
And without hesitation I can tell you that God has a few more destinations plotted out before me. I feel it in my bones…even on the days when I feel bone tired from the journey. I only pray that I’ve gained enough wisdom along the way to be a little more like my husband who has done a lot to help me gain a better sense of direction.
How about you? Have you sensed God’s direction for your life? Have you turned off in the wrong direction? Beloved, please know that no matter where you are right now, God is sending you guidance. There are mile markers and road signs and people who can help you read them when you can’t read them for yourself. No matter how far you’ve wandered, God is always there to redirect you back to where He longs for you to go. There is something wonderful inside you that He placed within you. It’s His gift in you that He planned as the gift you’d give the world. Don’t give up. You’re not lost. Not to Him.
In His love and service,
Sharon Bollum
I have this memory that has remained on the top 100 list in my mind since a November afternoon in 1973. I was in the seventh grade that year and school had just been dismissed. As always, I walked home. The long trek from school to home, as I considered the memory, was miles of traversing through neighborhoods, across a creek and several fields. (Just for giggles, I looked it up. According to Google it was actually just under one mile.) I had just crossed from my school onto the elementary school parking lot across the street. There was a noisy crowd of Jr. High kids standing in a circle. I walked up closer to see what was going on. I remember thinking that it might be something “cool” and I didn’t want to miss my chance at being one of the kids, in the know, at school the next day.
As I looked at the faces of the young teens gathered around, I saw wide toothy grins and eyes that danced with excitement. The scene made me smile in response. Then I caught sight of the two shirtless boys at the center of the gathering. They both stood stiff-jawed and slightly crouched, ready to fight! One with his back to me and the other directly across. The boy I was facing looked more afraid than angry. His light brown hair a stark contrast to his bright red face. I knew instantly that this confrontation was not his idea. His forehead was beaded with sweat and every muscle in his body tensed. He didn’t want to fight. He tried to save face by saying things that made fighting sound stupid. The crowd answered back by calling him ‘sissy’ and other similar but much more vulgar names. Someone shouted “fight, fight, fight!” and quickly several more kids shoved their fists in the air as they joined in the chant. The other boy’s back was to me so I couldn’t see his face or read his expression. I could sense he was angry but he didn’t seem to be afraid like the other boy did.
The cheering confused me. The smiling faces confused me. Why did they want this fight? Why would anyone enjoy it? I wanted to walk away but a vague sense of guilt left me feeling like I should stay. I was worried about the boy. He was a stranger to me, but he was afraid and it felt wrong to turn my back on him. Then it happened. The boy whose face I couldn’t see lunged forward and threw the first punch. I heard the sound of his fist as it slammed into the body of the other boy. Not like the sound effects in a movie where the noise exists only to convince the audience a punch took place. This was a solid, heavy, brutal sound that conveyed real pain. I can still hear it. The sound seemed to reverberate in my stomach. The boy cried out in pain. My stomach turned and my heart sank. He tried backing away from the swinging fists aimed for his face but the crowd behind him prevented him. They shoved him forward, shouting, laughing and taunting him. I couldn’t watch. As I turned to leave I caught sight of the large, fist sized, red marks that had already begun appearing on the face, chest and back of the poor boy who had hoped he wouldn’t have to fight.
I walked away as fast as I could, trying not to break out into a full speed run. Away from the thudding sound of fist to flesh. Away from the screaming, cheering crowd. I didn’t slow down until I couldn’t hear it anymore.
Long after, I couldn’t get the face of the boy or the fear in his eyes out of my head. I couldn’t get the sound out of my head. More than forty years later the physical memory isn’t as clear, but the emotional memory is as sharp as ever. But, all these years later, more than anything else, I’m still troubled by the mentality of the crowd. How could anyone be so callous?
Sadly, that callousness is repeated a thousand times in a thousand ways every single day… and not just on school yards filled with children.
What is it about human nature that enjoys a spectacle even if it is at the expense of someone else’s dignity or well-being? We see people being humiliated and hurt in every arena of life and there always seems to be those who view it as entertainment. From the sidelines of a street fight, a picket line and even their computer keyboards, people shout their scathing opinions and words of judgment. Without mercy they pummel others with insults or words of condemnation… some do it with a microphone or a YouTube video, while others, more furtively, by ‘liking’ or reposting carefully curated toxic waste on social media. “Fight, fight, fight!”
I’d love to say that Christians are never like that, but that wouldn’t be true. Pick any controversy on the internet perceived as a threat to the Christian worldview and you need only look as far as the comments section to find an endless supply of bullies either throwing punches or cheering on those who do. It’s a facet of our humanity that seems to completely lack… well, humanity.
Christian, this should not be true of you. We should take no part in the wounding or public humiliation of others. It is wholly beneath us. We are called out of the world and into a life governed by love and peace. Yes, there are things that make us angry. Yes, there are things that we should stand up for and others we should stand against. But we should never come off looking like bullies with a Bible.
Ephesians 4:26 says “In your anger do not sin”
We are at our greatest risk of dishonoring our head when we are angry. The reputation of Christ is at stake when we behave badly while, at the same time, claiming the moral high ground. Christ didn’t do that so why would we? The only people He publicly dressed down were the religious people who thought themselves superior to “sinners”.
Christian, the world has a right to see Jesus when they look at a you.
There is a vast difference between having a judgment and being judgmental. There is a vast difference between being an innocent bystander and the audience of hate.
Proverbs 15:1 says, “A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.”
We don’t get to stand on the Cross and look down at everyone else. They way of the Cross is humility, service and unflappable Love for God, ourselves, and our neighbors. ALL of our neighbors. Even the ones you don’t agree with or approve of.
1 Corinthians 13
13 If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. 2 And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. 3 If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned,[a] but have not love, I gain nothing.
4 Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant5 or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;[b] 6 it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. 7 Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
8 Love never ends. As for prophecies, they will pass away; as for tongues, they will cease; as for knowledge, it will pass away. 9 For we know in part and we prophesy in part, 10 but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. 11 When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. 12 For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.
13 So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love.