Every wonder why churches blow thousands of dollars to have a nice building, just so we impress the people who attend it? Yep, me too. We care more about money and material things sometimes than the starving people across the world (God's world). It's disgusting. We strive to make the American people happy, yet we are NEVER happy. I don't get it.
Yet the starving, the poor, the hurting are more happy than us. Does that tell you something?
I've been inspired by David Platt's book "Radical". I'm not too far into it, but only after a few pages, I feel a burning passion in my heart. I'm realizing the values of this country are selfish. They work to take away from what Christianity is about. They put Jesus in a box. The book talks about how Jesus tells us to sell all of our possessions to the poor, then we will have stored up our treasures in heaven. We, as Americans who long for the comfort and marrow of life twist these words into, "Well, Jesus doesn't actually mean to sell all we have and let go of things that we long to have". This is a huge problem. The Jesus we are worshiping at this point is our own, made-up, fake, comfortable, American Jesus.
Who are you worshiping on Sunday morning?
Pin It
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Things I've Always Wanted to do...
~Tour Europe, Australia, and South America
~Open my own store (book, art, or coffee shop)
~Write a best-selling novel
~Speak fluent Spanish
~Be a mom -someday.
~Road trip across America (and make it further west than Wisconsin) Pin It
~Open my own store (book, art, or coffee shop)
~Write a best-selling novel
~Speak fluent Spanish
~Be a mom -someday.
~Road trip across America (and make it further west than Wisconsin) Pin It
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Keep Holding It
To those hemorrhaging hearts
of missing love
He's patching it.
To the falling inspirations
of misplaced hope
He's catching it.
To the lonely rooms
of cold souls
He's hugging you.
To the tired minds
lacking belief
He's replenishing it.
To those giving up
on a seemless life
keep holding on to it. Pin It
of missing love
He's patching it.
To the falling inspirations
of misplaced hope
He's catching it.
To the lonely rooms
of cold souls
He's hugging you.
To the tired minds
lacking belief
He's replenishing it.
To those giving up
on a seemless life
keep holding on to it. Pin It
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Bailing out on class around 7:30pm, I drove my way home, stopping at church on the way. I entered to see little boys soaring, screeching, and sprinting around the building, sticking their tongues out at every little and big girl they saw enter their domain.
Proceeding to my office, I made copies of one of the devotionals I looked forward to presenting one night in the Dominican Republic...wow, I'd be in the Dominican in a less than 24 hours.
Other team members stopped in, slipping last minute things into their bags. After a brief exchange of excitement and a pinch of nervousness, I proceeded home to take one last hot shower and finish loading my carry-on bag.
Around 11:15pm, I returned to MCRC. Switching some last things in and out of my carry-on bag and luggage, I realized I had forgotten my bottle of Tums, Advil, and Excedrin - true essentials for a week in the Dominican Republic. I drove back home and returned in plenty of time for the passport copying party in the office. I also discovered the multitudes of video cameras accompanying us on the journey.
We gathered in a circle to say a prayer for the trip. This was it.
Jackie, Pete, John, and I rode in Pete's pickup, and by 12am we were on our way. Pin It
Proceeding to my office, I made copies of one of the devotionals I looked forward to presenting one night in the Dominican Republic...wow, I'd be in the Dominican in a less than 24 hours.
Other team members stopped in, slipping last minute things into their bags. After a brief exchange of excitement and a pinch of nervousness, I proceeded home to take one last hot shower and finish loading my carry-on bag.
Around 11:15pm, I returned to MCRC. Switching some last things in and out of my carry-on bag and luggage, I realized I had forgotten my bottle of Tums, Advil, and Excedrin - true essentials for a week in the Dominican Republic. I drove back home and returned in plenty of time for the passport copying party in the office. I also discovered the multitudes of video cameras accompanying us on the journey.
We gathered in a circle to say a prayer for the trip. This was it.
Jackie, Pete, John, and I rode in Pete's pickup, and by 12am we were on our way. Pin It
Friday, January 15, 2010
A Chicago Roadtrip
Dotted highway lines run together as we keep our 80 mph pace toward Chicago, Illinois. We bump along to holy hip-hop, drinking our Brooklyn Bagel coffee, and talking about fantasy football. Leaving small town, Scottville for a weekend is bound to do me good, as I love spontaneous adventures and weekends surrounded by old friends, making plans ten minutes in advance.
As the foggy Chicago skyline comes into view with the surprisingly blue Lake Michigan, a warmth fills our eyes as they burn in delight to see what we have been striving for half the day. It is truly gorgeous. Pin It
As the foggy Chicago skyline comes into view with the surprisingly blue Lake Michigan, a warmth fills our eyes as they burn in delight to see what we have been striving for half the day. It is truly gorgeous. Pin It
Friday, November 13, 2009
Day 1, Part 1
People make blogs to talk about their exciting lives. I lack the excitement for right now, and let's be honest, no one wants to read about my day to day activities in an office with 3 people. So maybe I'll focus more on those times when life presented awe-inspiring moments, and times of fun and excitement. Don't get me wrong, there are plenty more of those to come, but until they do...
As we descended into the rugged lands of Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, I thought my ears would explode and head fry of fever. Flying with a mucus-filled head isn't always the ideal way to arrive into the Caribbean, but I did, nonetheless. Of course the airport welcomed us with the classic corralling of human cattle and chaos. Mugginess hit our fa
ces as we trekked through the chaotic airport to customs. I wanted to pass out, I was so fatigued and weak. Chaos was overwhelming but the culture shock was almost nonexistant in my careless attitude.
Managing to pull my passport and appropriate documents out, I somehow ended up with my bags and following the group out the door of the airport into the Dominican atmosphere, where we were surrounded by a different type of chaos.
Constant horns and vehicles and a foreign language being shouted from every which way. My head spun and I crawled into an air conditioned van past jungles of seat belts that no one ever wore anyway in this country. I curled up next to a window, wrapped up in my blue hoodie, freezing as sweat oddly enough poured from my forehead.
Passing Spanish billboards and horses in the back of pickup trucks, and people walking in the road, selling fruit and candy, I enjoyed hearing the oohs and ahhs of our first time team members. It was all such a magical experience, even for those of us who had been down this highway multiple times. There was always something new to gawk at during the 45 minutes of stopping and going and close calls and mopeds weaving in the three f
eet that remained between you and the vehical in the next lane over. Our supposibly 4 lanes of traffic was somehow 6, as street lines were an optional suggestion.
Turning off to a bumpy, half dirt, half paved, falling apart road, we had reached the area of Los Alcarrizos. Just as many vehicles as the city and even more people and dogs running around. The 15 passenger dipped and hopped as we drove through hardcore road damage and potholes. People weaved around us in their 80s style pickup trucks with just as many people riding in the bed. Horns would beep to let the people know not to hit us, and we wouldn't hit them. Armed guards sat in plastic beach chairs, watching our van bump by. We weren't sure whether to feel safer or more alert.
Finally reaching Unto Inc.'s gate, we pulled aside and waited for it to be opened to us to enter the camp. Eyes watched us with a glimmer or curiosity, knowing full well there were Americanos in that van, since there were always Americanos staying at that camp. The van pulled up to the side of the kitchen and halted. We had arrived at our home for the next 8 days. Pin It
As we descended into the rugged lands of Santo Domingo, Dominican Republic, I thought my ears would explode and head fry of fever. Flying with a mucus-filled head isn't always the ideal way to arrive into the Caribbean, but I did, nonetheless. Of course the airport welcomed us with the classic corralling of human cattle and chaos. Mugginess hit our fa
ces as we trekked through the chaotic airport to customs. I wanted to pass out, I was so fatigued and weak. Chaos was overwhelming but the culture shock was almost nonexistant in my careless attitude.Managing to pull my passport and appropriate documents out, I somehow ended up with my bags and following the group out the door of the airport into the Dominican atmosphere, where we were surrounded by a different type of chaos.
Constant horns and vehicles and a foreign language being shouted from every which way. My head spun and I crawled into an air conditioned van past jungles of seat belts that no one ever wore anyway in this country. I curled up next to a window, wrapped up in my blue hoodie, freezing as sweat oddly enough poured from my forehead.
Passing Spanish billboards and horses in the back of pickup trucks, and people walking in the road, selling fruit and candy, I enjoyed hearing the oohs and ahhs of our first time team members. It was all such a magical experience, even for those of us who had been down this highway multiple times. There was always something new to gawk at during the 45 minutes of stopping and going and close calls and mopeds weaving in the three f
eet that remained between you and the vehical in the next lane over. Our supposibly 4 lanes of traffic was somehow 6, as street lines were an optional suggestion.Turning off to a bumpy, half dirt, half paved, falling apart road, we had reached the area of Los Alcarrizos. Just as many vehicles as the city and even more people and dogs running around. The 15 passenger dipped and hopped as we drove through hardcore road damage and potholes. People weaved around us in their 80s style pickup trucks with just as many people riding in the bed. Horns would beep to let the people know not to hit us, and we wouldn't hit them. Armed guards sat in plastic beach chairs, watching our van bump by. We weren't sure whether to feel safer or more alert.
Finally reaching Unto Inc.'s gate, we pulled aside and waited for it to be opened to us to enter the camp. Eyes watched us with a glimmer or curiosity, knowing full well there were Americanos in that van, since there were always Americanos staying at that camp. The van pulled up to the side of the kitchen and halted. We had arrived at our home for the next 8 days. Pin It
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Hoops, and fire, and jumping...
I'm learned that adulthood isn't that much fun this week. Maybe it was just the week I had, but I'm left here asking life "why?". "Why the hoops, and the fire, and the jumping?"
It was a fairly frustrating week, with still learning a lot about the job and then dealing with the email scam on Thursday. Still working on getting all the emails right. We switched to Gmail, which is awesome, but so far I'm not impressed with the bulk mailing. I've tried to send out announcements to our church literally 15 times and there are still a good 30 people who haven't gotten them. The emails we have still aren't declared correct from many people, and I've pretty much given up on gmail for the weekend. Probably should be working on that when I'm actually working anyway.
Today I was driving home, and went to stop to turn into my driveway, and I was pressing the brake peddle, and nothing. My brakes went and I coasted down the road, formulating a quick plan, and sort of panicking at the same time, and my brake light went on, after the fact. Luckily I turned down Gordon, and turned around to coast on home. It was one of the scariest moments of my life. Right up there with the whole dump truck incident last winter.
Frustrated and tired, I walked into the house, only to see my three weeks worth of laundry still sitting there, staring at me. The reminder of washing multiple loads of dirty, stinky clothes from weeks ago, that I can no longer remember why some of them smelt that way, was staring me in the face, and threatening to spill out of the hamper. So I started laundry and proceeded to practice songs for Sunday on a guitar that no one in church can hear anyway, because my guitar stinks.
Not my week. Maybe next week will be better. Pin It
It was a fairly frustrating week, with still learning a lot about the job and then dealing with the email scam on Thursday. Still working on getting all the emails right. We switched to Gmail, which is awesome, but so far I'm not impressed with the bulk mailing. I've tried to send out announcements to our church literally 15 times and there are still a good 30 people who haven't gotten them. The emails we have still aren't declared correct from many people, and I've pretty much given up on gmail for the weekend. Probably should be working on that when I'm actually working anyway.
Today I was driving home, and went to stop to turn into my driveway, and I was pressing the brake peddle, and nothing. My brakes went and I coasted down the road, formulating a quick plan, and sort of panicking at the same time, and my brake light went on, after the fact. Luckily I turned down Gordon, and turned around to coast on home. It was one of the scariest moments of my life. Right up there with the whole dump truck incident last winter.
Frustrated and tired, I walked into the house, only to see my three weeks worth of laundry still sitting there, staring at me. The reminder of washing multiple loads of dirty, stinky clothes from weeks ago, that I can no longer remember why some of them smelt that way, was staring me in the face, and threatening to spill out of the hamper. So I started laundry and proceeded to practice songs for Sunday on a guitar that no one in church can hear anyway, because my guitar stinks.
Not my week. Maybe next week will be better. Pin It
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