A One Grandma Army

I spent my fourth of july weekend with my family: relaxing, catching up, and being pyromaniacs on the eve of the 4^th.  My grandpa told the family about some unusual behavior by my grandma lately, and we’re not sure whether we should encourage it or be concerned.  She’s been hugging strangers a lot.

Grandpa broke the news this way: “Did I tell you about grandma hugging the Canadians?”

We all looked at him and then her like they were off their rockers.  “No…” we all replied, in unison, a little bit worried.

“You know we’ve got all these Canadians coming down and shopping down here now. I think she’s responsible.  She’s been hugging all of them.” 

We all laughed because we thought he was making a joke. And grandma was just deadpanning along with it, as if this was some well rehearsed gag they’ve been doing for awhile.

But, it quickly became apparent that, no, they were serious; grandma was indeed hugging the Canadians. 

“Mom, why are you hugging the Canadians?” My mom asked, flabbergasted.

Grandma was very serious in her response: “Because I love our Canadian neighbors.”

We all just stared, mouths open.  Grandma had finally lost her marbles.  I was wondering, does she walk up to every Canadian she sees or just the women?  Does she approach them in the stores or in the parking lots?

According to grandpa, it’s all of the above.  Grandma will see a group of them and proceed to hug the whole lot of ‘em, telling them, “I love our Canadian neighbors; now give me a hug.”  She’ll just go right down the line, regardless of age or gender and hug them all.  She’s been known to hug people outside and inside stores. 

Frankly, I want to know how you can spot them so clearly, but grandpa claims they’ve worn a specific kind of smile since their dollar went up. 

Apparently, this all started when grandma read a nasty letter to the editor in the newspaper from some local yahoo who wanted all the Canadians to stay out of our country.  You see, my family lives in northern Washington, near the Canadian border, so with the Canadian dollar being worth so much and gas prices being relatively lower here, BC residents are flocking across the border to spend money in the county.  This man was annoyed that the roads are more congested and stores are busier.   

Grandma, seeing that this sort of message is getting out, is making it her mission to counteract it by welcoming the Canadians with hugs. 

My grandma, who hasn’t read the book, Three Cups of Tea, has the right idea for international diplomacy.  One person can do a lot to undo the negative messages sent by our culture. I also believe that one Christian can do a lot to undo the negative message sent out by some people who claim to be Christians.  There’s also just a lot of weird assumptions about Christians out there that some intentional displays of love might help dispel.

Worshipping the False God “Food”

It’s slightly ironic that I’m sitting here at Panera, with the heavenly smells of fresh baked bread wafting over me, finally admitting to what God has been convicting me of these past few weeks.  After searching my heart for the idols that have been taking God’s rightful place, God showed me a huge idol in my life.  It’s food.

If this isn’t your particular item of worship, it might not sound like a big deal to you.  But if you, like me, get a lot of comfort from a carb fix or a chocolate bar, you’ll know how this revelation might hit pretty hard. 

When I was sitting in church, answering Pastor Mark’s questions about the idols in our life, it became immediately clear that food fit many of the criteria.

•  Who/what makes you happiest? Why?

When I started thinking about what I looked forward to the most, it typically equalled something gooey and sweet. 

• Who/what makes you saddest? Why?

I’m at my crankiest when I haven’t eaten in awhile or when I’m feeling “deprived.”

• On earth, where do you run for your safety or comfort as your hiding place (e.g. the fridge, alcohol, the television, a person, a place, a hobby)?

Of all the questions, this one really got to the heart of the issue.  Food is my number one place for comfort. When I’m feeling down or lonely, I don’t run to God.  I run to the cupboard, where my functional god is prepackaged for my immediate satisfaction.

• Who or what do you use to save you from what you fear (e.g. a relationship, children, money, shopping, sex, etc.)?

It’s amazing how a bowl of ice cream drowns out all my worries, at least for awhile.

• Which idols are in your life that when appreciated and/or stewarded correctly are means of worship but have become objects of worship (e.g. work, family, health, friendship, pleasure, leisure, hobby, etc.)?

I know food is a good thing, given by God for our enjoyment and our health and well being.  But, when that good thing becomes a god thing, something I worship, it’s a problem.  Instead, I can imagine that I could worship God with my use of food, but that’s something I have to learn how to do.

•  What idols am I selling to others?

It’s amazing how easy it is for me to praise amazing food to my friends and even strangers.  I was blessed to have a friend stop at Panera and join me for lunch, and I can hear myself singing the praises of various items on the menu.  When do I talk about Jesus like that, so freely, without shame?

Stay tuned for more on this topic, as I seek God’s help for my sanctification in this area.   I’m learning a lot, but it’s a hard process, when one’s primary source of comfort gets challenged.

How People Change

With a recent string of hot days, the apartment complex pool is hopping, and it’s the happening place to be on a hot summer afternoon.  Luckily, the semester is over for me, and I’m wrapping up grading, which means, more pool time.  Which also means, more time for reading at the poolside.  Yes, life is rough.

A couple days ago, I planted myself on one of two available lounge chairs and was shortly joined by another neighbor, someone I’d never met before.  The young woman kept an eye on her two energetic young girls while she caught up on some reading of her own.

 I introduced myself and broached the common topic of books.  She was holding a copy of The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People, a book I’d read several years ago. 

It turns out, she’s a bit of a reader herself and habitually has several books going at once.  Sounds like my kind of person.

She asked what I was reading.  Glancing down at the book in my hand, I paused a moment.  This one was a little harder to explain than my common pool fare.  I’d taken along a church recommended book that I was reading for my training process for women’s leadership. 

“It’s called How People Change, and it’s book we’re reading at my church right now,” I told her, trying not to sound too churchy, but also trying not to sound ashamed of what I was reading.

“Oh, what’s it say, how do people change?” she asked.

“Great,” I thought. “Here’s a chance to talk about Jesus, and I’m very ill equipped at the moment.” 

“Um, there’s this chart see…I stumbled, and pointed, and explained briefly the book’s point.”  It was the worst book summary I’ve ever done.

Obviously, she wasn’t too impressed.  I wouldn’t be either, with that introduction. 

As we sat reading our respective books, I thought of all the brilliant ways I could have summarized its message, about Jesus, about his power to change us inside out.  But, of course, I never said any of that.

After we’d both dipped in the pool and resumed our reading, she’d mentioned that she was reading her book to help her with some bad habits she was trying to break.  “I just can’t get organized and get my act together.  I’m trying to follow the steps in this book. I’m taking notes and making charts as I read.”

I nodded intently. I’ve done the same with self-help kind of books.  That one in particular hadn’t rocked my world. In fact, I got pretty bored with it, but it seemed like she was getting something out of it.

However, I recognized that the book I was holding and the book she was holding were both addressing the exact same issues, just different approaches.  Hers advocated strategies for a person to embrace to take charge of their life.  Mine, it advocated turning to Christ, so he could take charge of our messed up life. 

I wanted to tell her that if she really wanted to see change, it was only going to happen at the heart level.  And the one person who specializes in that is Jesus.  That’s the true way to get rid of those nasty habits you can never seem to shake. 

But of course, I just sat there.  Staring into the pool, watching her kids splash in the water. 

Today seems like another good day for a swim.  I’ll bring my book along, just in case another opportunity presents itself.

Amy’s Marginalia: A Million Little Pieces

James Frey’s had a rough life.  As a drug addict, he messed up his health, his friendships, and his criminal record before landing in an intensive rehab program.  He wrote a fictionalized account of his story, attempted to sell the book, and couldn’t find any publishers (boy do I know that story).  Then, he sold it as memoir, and suddenly, he’s on Oprah and selling millions of copies.  Eventually, word gets out that it’s not a true story, and Oprah reams him out on the show.  Who wants to be reamed out by Oprah?  She white gloves everybody. 

You might remember the headlines when this was going on a couple years ago.  He’s been badmouthed and abused by every journalist and tv talkshow host around.

So when I said I wanted to read his book for one of my book groups, the ladies all looked at me like I was loco.  “Wasn’t that fake?” They asked. 

“Yes, along with every other novel we’ve read,” I thought. 

In a world where truth gets thrown around a lot as something so perception based and individualized, it’s a marvel to me that people get so upset at this guy for not telling the “truth.” 

When I read a memoir, I expect there to be fabrications, even if the writer swears up and down that it’s the “truth.”  It’s not that I’m cynical, well, maybe a bit.  I just happen to be #1 fallen human being along with the rest of humanity and #2 a writer.  Those two things make me know that memories fade, names get changed to protect the innocent, writers get revenge in creative ways, and life gets spiced up a little to create a coherent narrative.

Maybe the same people who blindly think every non-fiction account they read is “truth” also think “reality” TV actually depicts reality.  Don’t forget that during the recent screenwriter’s strike, reality shows suffered too.  It seems odd that unscripted life would need script writers.

So why should Christians care about fake memoirs and “true” life accounts?  I think they’re a great place to begin a discussion about the “Truth,” you  know, the one with a capital “T.”  The same people who claim there is no Truth are quick to denounce any apparent “untruths” in autobiography.  Does that seem disingenuous to you?

But there is a Truth we can know, personally, intimately.  His name is Jesus.  His word is Truth.  Test it. See what people for thousands of years have recognized.  His story is THE True story. 

Compared to him, the rest of us are all just liars.

Why Can’t My Idols be Minor Things?

Let me give you a little piece of advice.  Should you be a little behind on your blog reading, catching up on what I’ve been writing for the past couple weeks, and you get to last week’s questions on how to find your idols (this one), keep in mind that should you decide to go about that process, you might want to expect a crappy week to ensue.  It helps to know what’s coming.

That pretty much sums up my week.

When you ask God to reveal things in your life that you’ve worshipped as replacements for Him, he never points out little stuff.  No, when it’s a God replacement, it tends to be big stuff, or at least, it’s stuff that you’ve made a big deal. 

I’ll probably update you sometime on what I’m learning, once I’ve stopped licking my wounds for long enough to write about it.

Until then, heed my advice, or warning, or what have you.

Cart of Darkness 3

For some reason, idiots in grocery stores flock to me like fruit flies to the produce section. 

Once again, Costco is the culprit.  Either I spend too much time in Costco, or the mega store has more than its fair share of morons.  Maybe it has something to do with the large empty spaces drawing large empty heads.  I’m trying not to think about what that means for me shopping there.

Today, we focus on the nitwits in line, the checkout line to be precise.

Last Sunday, I stopped at the store to pick up some odds and ends, or in other words, excuses for me to browse the book section.  I went on the weekend, which is typically a fate worse than death.  The lines get really long on those days.  I found a line that was manageable, and when it was my turn to put my items on the conveyor belt, I pulled my cart ahead and began loading items on.  There was a gap between my items at the end of the belt and the items of the person in front of me, about 2 feet worth of space.

From out of nowhere, a snappish looking middle aged woman swooped into that gap and placed her items between my purchases and those of the people who were in line before me.  Basically, she was cutting, but cutting while I had my items on the conveyor belt. 

She only had 2 items, sure, and if she had asked, I might even have let her cut, but to do it without asking?  I stood there dumbfounded, holding my carton of strawberries as the conveyor belt went by empty.  The people ahead of her cleared out, she paid, took off, and never looked me in the eye once.  She knew she did wrong.

Sure, I could have made a hissy fit.  Stomped up and down, demanded that she run to the back of the line (several people deep by now).  But what would that have accomplished?  Well, maybe I’d have a better story to tell you, like the one my mom shared with me recently.

 My mom called the other day to complain about her latest Costco fiasco, so I know I’m not alone.  She gave me permission to relate her tale, and I hope that by doing so, I’ll raise awareness of a disturbing individual who is haunting a Costco near you.  We’ll call her “Sample Woman.”

Costco has great samples. It’s one of the reasons I shop there during the hours of 1-4 (prime sample time), especially on Fridays.  It’s funny the things you’ll eat as a free sample that you’d normally never consider sticking in your mouth under normal circumstances.

“Try a taste of beef fat wrapped in bacon, 9.99 for 10 lbs,” A woman in a red apron says, as she holds out a steaming tray of flesh.  A long line forms as soon as the microwave beeps.  I find myself popping one of the morsels in my mouth, praising its texture and moisture. 

But apparently, some people take the sampling thing a little too far. 

My mom was in line, with her purchases on the conveyor belt, waiting to pay, when the woman behind her reached forward and began browsing through mom’s merchandise. She opened up mom’s box of grapes, plucked one, and popped it in her mouth.  “Oh, those are good,” she said, conversationally.

Watching the woman first touch, then eat her food, mom weighed the appropriate response. 

Mom asked her to please stop eating her food.  But sampler woman continued in her sampling spree.  She proceeded to poke and prod with her long fingernails at some fish fillets mom was purchasing. 

Eager to reclaim her personal space and possessions, mom finally told her, “I’m sick and you’d better stand back, so I don’t cough all over you.” 

That worked.  It also had the benefit of being true. Go mom.

Cart of Darkness 1

Cart of Darkness 2

 

Let’s Play “Find the Idol”

I just love it when my pastor delivers a timely sermon on something I’m wrestling with in my own life.  It’s such a great confirmation of God’s devotion to the church body and its growth as a community.  It also encourages me that I’m not alone in my struggles, that the things I face in my daily walk are issues many of my brothers and sisters in Christ are dealing with too.

Last Sunday, Pastor Mark spoke about worship, but in particular, he devoted much of the sermon to the way we misplace our worship on false idols.  And those of you who have been reading this blog for the past several weeks have read about my quest to unearth  hidden idols in my heart, most particularly ones that misshape the one True God into something unlike himself.  You can click here to read about what I’ve found thus far.

We spent the large part of the service going through the following, detailed list of questions, helping us to reflect on the potential idols in our life.  I warn you, don’t approach this too lightly.  Once you start asking yourself these questions, God might reveal things you hold dear, too dear. 

 Consider yourself warned.

Who/what are your external idols?

* Who/what is my Lord that rules over my life determining how I live?
* Who/what is my Judge I am living to earn the approval of? 
* Where do you give the firstfruits of your wealth?
* Where do you give the firstruits of your time?
* What people and things take the majority of your life?
* What do you plan and pray for?

Who/what are your internal idols?

* What false beliefs do you hold about God?
* Which parts of Scripture do you deeply doubt or even disbelieve?
* Deep down in your heart who/what do you love, cherish, treasure, long for the most?
* Deep down in your heart who/what do you despise and hate the most?
* Who/what makes you happiest? Why?
* Who/what makes you saddest? Why?

Who/what is your mediator between you and God?

* Who or what other than Jesus do you use to get closer to God?
* Who or what if taken from your life would cause you to not walk as faithfully with God?
* How do you define yourself, especially when introducing yourself to others?

 Where is your functional heaven?

* When daydreaming about escaping this life, what does your functional heaven look like and how is it different from the real heaven?
* On earth, where do you run for your safety or comfort as your hiding place (e.g. the fridge, alcohol, the television, a person, a place, a hobby)?

Who/what is your functional savior?

* What is your picture of hell in this life (e.g. being single, not having children, being poor, etc.)?
* Who or what do you use to save you from what you fear (e.g. a relationship, children, money, shopping, sex, etc.)? 

What good thing has become a god thing?

* Which idols are in your life that when appreciated and/or stewarded correctly are means of worship but have become objects of worship (e.g. work, family, health, friendship, pleasure, leisure, hobby, etc.)?
* If you could obtain or change one thing/person in your life what would that be?
* What idols am I selling to others? 

Amy’s Additional Questions

*What does your best friend or spouse say are your idols? (hint: ask them)
*What’s the number one topic in the books or movies that line your shelves?
*If your house was on fire, what would you carry out with you?

To download the full sermon mp3, click here:

To watch or listen to the full sermon online, click here:

To read the sermon notes (the source for these questions), click here:

Amy’s False Idols: Therapist God

As I continue to seek out long hidden idols in my heart, those misrepresentations of God that I’ve come to worship, I’ve found yet another insidious creation taking the true God’s rightful place.  I’m calling this idol Therapist God, and I don’t mean him to be a knock against the entire mental health profession, which is well and good.  But when God starts looking like the guy with the leather couch and the Freud beard, you’ve got an idol problem.

I’m not ashamed to admit that there have been times in my life where I’ve sought therapy from counselors, psychologists, and psychiatrists.  Just like our physical health needs attention and its own special brand of doctors, our mental health also requires its own unique forms of treatment. 

So, I understand the counselor/counselee roles, but I was surprised to recognize that I was playing the parts with God.  I’d sit myself on his couch and talk about my feelings.  Me, Me, Me, Me, Me.  I’d search his word for some tips for how to handle my emotions.  In fact, I just memorized two great verses in James for anger:  “My dear brothers, take note of this:  Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry, for man’s anger does not bring about the righteous life that God desires” (1:19-20).

So far, my attitude isn’t exactly bad.  Okay, It’s a little selfish. 

But here’s where it becomes flat out idolatry:  I stop at this stage. 

What makes God vastly different and superior from all mental health professionals is his ability to transform us and our minds.  Whereas a counselor or psychiatrist can give us tips and tricks, be a good listening ear, or maybe even prescribe some excellent pharmaceuticals, only God has the power to change us 100%, in an instant, if he wishes. 

I was talking to a friend of mine the other day who is a former drug addict, and this point hit me really hard.  In her former life, she did drugs, slept around, got abortions, and made a general mess of her life.  Then, she met Jesus, and he transformed her, heart, mind, and soul.  I was sitting with her as she nursed the latest addition to her growing family, when I realized how feeble my idol was.

Sure, a counselor might have helped her out a bit, but nobody but Jesus could make her the incredible mom and wife that she is today. 

So this is where I’m selling God short.  By calling him Therapist God and limiting him to the powers of an earthly therapist, I’m denying the miracles that I’ve witnessed him perform in my own life and the lives of others.  I’m losing faith in his power to transform, renew, and recreate.

And of course, this should change my prayer life.  When I pray to therapist God, it’s as low key as a therapy session.  But when I lay my heart and mind before the God who has the power to change me forever, I walk away awed and inspired.  And a little scared.  Nobody faces transforming change without just a little trepidation.

“Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2a).

Friday Funny: The Saga of Ceiling Cat

I love lolcats, especially those at the ICanHasCheezburger blog, my favorite addiction.

There’s a storyline that has emerged among the submissions, and wheras my husband loves the “nom” topics, I prefer the epic struggle between “ceiling cat” and “basement cat.” It’s a familiar story that you might recognize from elsewhere.

So, for your Friday amusement, I bring you, my interpretation of the story of Ceiling Cat (with credits going to ICanHasCheezburger for the pictures and captions).

(I admit that I got this one from ICanHasCheezburger’s sister site, IHasAHotDog, for all those strange dog people out there).

Amy’s Marginalia: Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress

A friend of mine recommended that I read this little book as part of my blitz through fiction with a Chinese twist.  You can read more about that trend here.

Not having read anything by Balzac before, the book’s title didn’t exactly jump off the shelves at me, but a friend’s recommendation is all I need as an excuse to dive into another book.  Interestingly, at the last writer’s conference I attended, I learned that the number one reason why women purchase books is because of a recommendation. 

The story is set in a time that I knew little about, during the Cultural Revolution in China, specifically in 1971.  The two main characters are bourgeois boys sent to the countryside for “re-education,” which basically means that they were to forget all the city bred culture they knew and replace it with backwoods country ways.  This also meant that all Western elements were banned, especially books.  When the boys come across a cache of forbidden books, including several works by Balzac, their world is expanded, and they are nourished by their worldview and lessons.  The Little Chinese Seamstress is a simple country girl that the boys meet who is also transformed by these Western books and ideas.

Anyone who has read the high school classic Fahrenheit 451 can recognize the horror of a culture without books.  Whereas Bradbury’s book imagines future without books, Dai Sijie’s novel looks back to a time and place where the unthinkable actually happened. 

The boys risk their lives to read these forbidden books.  They devise clever ways of copying the writing, most notably on the inner lining of their clothing.  I’ve read about a thirst for words like this before, and it occurs to me that stories that most closely resemble them are from missionaries who travelled across the Iron Curtain (Brother Andrew’s God Smuggler is the prime example). Today, missionaries in the 10/40 window also face similar obstacles.  Underground churches meticulously copy Bible verses, so the one Bible in the congregation can be shared more effectively. 

Do you ever notice how you only recognize the value of something once it’s taken away from you? If you’re anything like me, you have a bookshelf or two crammed with books, many of which you don’t read.  Most believers probably have several Bibles kicking around their homes. There’s also a public library in your town that you might not have visited in the past year, or 10.

But what if a new government stepped in, one that banned these books and ideas.  Wouldn’t their worth be of greater value to you?  Would you sit up late at night, reading them, searching them for the hidden, secret wisdom that was banned and forbidden?

Sometimes, I wonder if banning books makes people read them more.  For example, in the small town where I grew up, our high school assigned Jane Smiley’s book A Thousand Acres to one of the English classes.  A parent got wind of the assignment and sounded the alarm that there were profanities and some sex scenes.  Would you believe it, the book flew off the shelves in our area?  It was mostly church people buying it to read it, so they could join in denouncing it.  It was sold out everywhere.  But bookstores were quick to catch on, and they restocked quickly.  There’s a copy on my bookshelf too.

I’m not saying that we should ban the Bible. Heaven forbid. But I am saying, maybe we’re a little too comfortable in our freedoms.  Stepping into these stories, where we read about others who don’t have it so easy, who would love to have the access we have, maybe we’d recognize the precious treasure we have available to us any time we want it. 

And we too can be transformed (Romans 12:2).