Responding

The amount of bad news is overwhelming. Is it okay to admit sometimes I’m a little disturbed that it is possible access the terrible, no good, very bad things happening in every country as they are happening? It’s too much. If you’re a doer or have a big, empathetic heart the scope of the world’s problems being at your fingertips is the wooooorst. Every day there is something horrible occurring as the result of large-scale, corrupt, systemic issues. Every day there is a justifiable reason to numb yourself, grow bitter and cynical, or become paralyzed and hopeless. I think this has probably always been the case… only now we live in a viral and far-reaching world of reporting that puts fear and hate on loudspeakers and then allows anyone who wants to comment to do so on a hundred different media platforms. It feels inescapable. It demands our undivided, or very divided, attention.

Although I have a guilt-inducing amount of things to be thankful for, this year I found it difficult to posture my heart in gratitude. Its all so heavy. There is always a new issue. Or an old issue with new steam. The list of things to be heart broken about grows and grows. Every time I read a headline that makes my stomach churn, I find myself sitting and wondering…

Okay, so what should my response be? What the hell am I supposed to do with this information? 

This is what seems certain: due to scope and copious amounts of complexities, most problems are not going to just end/go away/get solved. Injustices will continue to exist or increase, even. There will always be stomach-churning headlines.

I’ve obviously heard this in various contexts, but especially during college, I was consistently encouraged to “step back and look at the big picture”. As an artist, it was necessary to regularly back up and look at my work from across the room. From a distance I could see more easily what needed manipulated.

When it comes to the atrocities happening all over the globe, it is hard for me to believe that looking at or trying to do something about the big picture is helpful. I personally cannot elicit a response that changes something at a macro level and I struggle to see governments or other agencies implementing change effectively or compassionately. While I never want to disengage or isolate from the big picture, I cannot do anything from across the room.

You change the big picture on a detail level.

My response to the micro matters.

Colyn, my dear friend/air drumming extrodinare/part-time house mate/hero delivered an eloquent and thought-provoking message on Sunday that spoke to how we see this perfectly modeled in Christ. Christ never looked to a system, hierarchy, religion, or political party. He essentially was the big picture and the way he lived was one of small actions with big love. He took on a method and perspective of personalism. I am always stuck by how consistent Christ was in the action of tailoring his interactions. How as God, he worked on a detail level- ministering and calling individuals personally and intimately. This is the example he asked his followers to emulate. This free, creative, unrequited love is intented to lead us into solidarity with others. I believe the divine is experienced in community where we learn to empathize, bear one another’s burdens, and seek the best for the other.

What a different world we would live in if everyone actually sought what was best for…the refugee, the transgender, the drugged up, the prostitute, the delinquent, or the undocumented. If we cast aside our own presumptions and prerogatives. Perhaps this is the best way to fight against the ovewhelming amount of terrible, no good, very bad news. I would bet one of the main reasons this does not happen is because we read the papers, watch a bunch of news, and then feel entitled to speak about “them”. We’re convicing ourselves that we know and understand. That there’s nothing we can do about it except write about it on Facebook. But we must start from a place of admitting we do not know or understand anything.

If you want to talk about ____ I want to hear you say their names, show me their faces, tell me their stories, and what your relationship with them is like. As someone who wants a life of big love…if do not live this out myself, I miss the whole point. I think issues become impossible to generalize when we personalize and humanize them. I personally cannot stand see what is happening all over the world and respond by donating some clothes and dropping change in a styrofoam cup. There is a whole lot of pain and lonliness out there. Jesus’ response was to alleviate these sufferings through touching, tasting, and seeing. He invited everyone to the table to break bread. He showed that when we love and serve from a place of relationship, moving from unknowing to knowing, we see it all so very differently. We are convicted to seek the will of the other.

You will never understand or be satisfied with the big picture if you do not intimately study the detail work.

Love,

Taylor

 

 

Tattoo & Taking Heart

Even though my parents were Christians and I grew up going to church with them, they were never pushy or forceful about religion. It wasn’t mandatory and they welcomed my questions and doubts. They wanted my faith to be something that I chose and when I was twelve I decided that I wanted to be baptised. To this day, I am thankful that they allowed me to make that decision on my own. I know that twelve is still very young. Like, what do you have to think critically about at twelve? How to beat Zelda on N64? How to dispose of your vitamin shake without mom seeing? But honestly, I remember thinking hard about that decision. It wasn’t something that happened because I had reached a certain age or because everyone else was doing it. It was a commitment I wanted to make. I had periods of time where I just went through the motions or ignored my faith altogether, but when I started to do mission work, I was never really the same again. It exposed me to the enormity of the world and rocked my tiny viewpoint.

My faith, which had once seemed small and simple became increasingly challenging and complex. I went to six different countries and in each I was confronted with injustice and brokenness that sank my heart and made my blood boil. But I found it impossible to be disheartened to the point of giving up on my faith because the people who had every reason to believe that God had abandoned them were the most faithful, resilient, grateful and joyful people. Consistently. Everywhere I went. And they could tell you of all the ways God provided for them. Even when the world was dark and evil, He was still good, they told me. There was never any denying of the loss that comes from war, poverty, famine, or disease…but there was always rejoicing in hope. I think in much of the third-world there is a greater understanding of Jesus’ words, “I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). It’s not going to get any better, really. It seems like Jesus is warning everyone that life is always going to shit on you. It will lack logic and reason. It will be easy to lose heart but he says, take heart, people!  If you only live in the world, you’ll be full of anxiety and disappointment. If you live in me, you’ll find the peace and love you need to navigate allllll the troubles.

I have read quite a bit about the Celtic faith since being here and have appreciated this way of understanding. It developed far away from the Roman and Orthodox churches, starting around monasteries in the British Isles. It began with rural people, to whom tribe or kinship was very important and therefore living in community was essential. Being monastic, there was no real separation of living and praying. The Celts were very connected to the earth and an awareness of the elemental forces is woven through out their prayers. There is an emphasis on imagination which is emulated through symbolism, storytelling, and poetry. The monastic life is about a never-ending journey of the old into the new. It relies on a deep understanding of oneself and interior reflection, but the journey is not just a personal one…it is fundamentally about finding Christ in others, becoming a more loving person, and growth into relationships. Celtic spirituality has a deep sense of connectedness, valuing harmony and interdependence. This reflects their deep conviction to worshipping God as Trinity: three persons in a unity of love.

You know, thinking back to the places I’ve been…Christianity looked different everywhere I went. Obviously, there are core principles that remain the same…but the way it manifested and was expressed differed by culture and individual. It fascinates me that so many people possess this need to know what is ‘right’ and ‘true’ when we are all made differently. We have completely different contexts and backgrounds. I don’t understand how there could ever be one way of understanding that would work for 6 billion individuals. And this is one thing I find really beautiful about Christianity– God is bigger than your understanding. If Jesus is the way, the truth and the life…then you aren’t. And that is ok.

But anyway… In my reading, I stumbled upon a series of Caim prayers. “Caim” is a Scots Gaelic word meaning “sanctuary”, “protecting”, “encircling”. The encircling prayers affirmed the presence of God with them in the circle. Wherever they walked, God was with them, and they drew these circles around themselves as a reminder of God’s presence and protection. The Celtic way of prayer is rooted in the notion of Immanuel, “God with us.” These prayers have been so, so important to me in my time here. Carrying a deep awareness of Immanuel with me and ‘taking heart’ has been crucial to my sanity. I started out feeling extremely vulnerable when I arrived in Scotland. I was newly-divorced, thousands of miles away from home but five miles away from Clayton, beginning the most gruelling academic work of my life. My grandparents were diagnosed with Alzheimer’s and cancer. The rain, wind, and darkness (night starting at 2:30 pm is just not okay) felt like they would never let up. It suuuuuucked. I didn’t know how to navigate it and I definitely haven’t done it well the whole time. But hey, sometimes you win and sometimes you learn, right? I have done my best to encircle myself in sanctuary. I have reconnected with Jesus’ teachings and just what a badass he was. Is it okay to call him that? I don’t care, he was. Even in the darkest times, I have experienced the peace that comes from resting in His protection and love (and the bosoms of the fiercely amazing friends I have made here ;)). When I get hit with a wave of intense (insert emotion), I remember the Caim circle and am mindful of myself as a sacred space where God dwells, surrounded in every direction. I acknowledge what I am thinking or feeling and pray to keep the truth/positive within and the lie/negative without.

I drew my own Caim circle. And then I got it tattooed on my forearm.

Now it really is with me wherever I go.

Love,

Taylor

Freeeeee

So, I’m going to get kind of spiritual. If that’s not your thing…feel free to stop reading.

BUT something amazing happened to me and it can happen for other people too, so I think that’s the whole point of sharing.

I was at church and this woman prayed over me.

“At birth you were defined by joy. It was poured into you,” she said.

She took hold of my hand. My eyes met hers. Her gaze was confident and piercing, as if it were looking right through my soul. There’s only one other person I’ve met like this, and if you know the Rev Kev, you know exactly what I’m talking about.

“I think planted within you is truth. A desire for truth. To reflect truth. To bring truth. It’s who you are and what you do. But He gives you a gentleness and sweetness to bring it. It changes the very atmosphere.”

Woooah, lady. Way to make a girl awkwardly cry-laugh.

The incredible thing was she just stayed with me as I vomited out everything that was on my mind. She had no clue who I was. I just got here a few weeks ago. Yet, she was so…present. I found myself forgiving people for stuff I thought I was totally over. I was breaking off lies that I tell myself. There were moments where the weight of the burden or mourning was so heavy, I couldn’t even get words off my lips…but she’d hold my hand and led when I couldn’t. And this is what amazes me about faith. You can be in a place thousands of miles away from home, talking to someone you just met 1 minute ago, crying into their sweater about why your heart is broken, and they’re speaking these powerful words and it’s totally accepted because: Jesus.

And at the end, I had this huge sense of relief wash over me. I can’t even describe it. Well, maybe I can. It was like when you take the first gulp of air after you’ve been holding your breath under water. All of the guilt I had…gone. All of the disappointment…gone. All of the resentment…gone. All of the grief…gone. Images and memories that disturbed me…gone. It was as if my own identity of joy was restored. For the first time in my life I cried tears of bliss. Beautiful, unadulterated bliss.

You guys. I feel so f—ing free! So fresh. So clean. I can quote Outkast right now, right?

Hallelujah.

“He heals the broken hearted and binds up their wounds.” Psalm 147:3

I knew it was coming. He’s so good, you guys. So good.

Love,
Taylor

7 Things Sunday

Since it is Easter…

7 (of many) reasons I think Jesus was the man:

One. Jesus a radically awesome friend to women. There is a Jewish blessing that goes, “Blessed are you, Lord God, Ruler of the Universe, who has not made me a woman.” In Jesus’ day women were essentially seen as property. Men didn’t speak to women in public. Rabbis were not to teach women.  And yet we see many accounts of Rabbi Jesus teaching women, even one-on-one. He included men and women as disciples. We see Jesus interact with women intimately and personally. They flocked to him. They used their resources to support his ministry. Jesus violated the morals and traditions of his society to give women honor and respect.

When the religious leaders were tired of Jesus’ popularity, teachings, and rule-breaking, they thought they could bring a charge against him. So they instigated a mob and drug a woman caught in adultery (which was punishable by death) before Jesus. They said to him, “Teacher, this woman has been caught in the act of adultery. Now in the Law, Moses commanded us to stone such women. So, what do you say?”

Jesus has a lose-lose situation, here. If he shows her mercy, he ends up condoning adultery and getting arrested or at the very least he proves the Pharisees’ point. If he agrees with the stoning, then so much for all his teaching on mercy and forgiveness. So much for his unique and against-the-grain treatment of women. So what happens?

He bends down and writes something on the ground (what he wrote remains unknown, but I like to think it said something like, “Suck it, Pharisees!”). Then when they continued to question him, he stood up and said, “If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw the stone at her.”

BOOM. No takers. No condemnation. Walk away, people. Daughter: go home, live your life, don’t cheat anymore.

Who stood at the foot of the cross when Jesus’ male disciples fled? Ladies.

Who did Jesus choose to first appear to when he rose from the dead? Ladies. WHAT?! This is amazing. Women had such little standing in culture and certainly no authority to be religious spokespersons. And here Jesus is, giving them this role to be the first to tell others of his resurrection.

Two. Jesus was really annoyed by self-righteous religious people and legalism. Amen, me too. Thank God. Literally. Jesus told the crowds in Matthew 23, “…don’t follow their example. For they don’t practice what they teach. They crush people with unbearable religious demands and never lift a finger to ease the burden. Everything they do is for show.” He goes on to say to the Pharisees things like, “What sorrow awaits you teachers of religious law and you Pharisees. Hypocrites! For you shut the door of the Kingdom of Heaven in people’s faces. You won’t go in yourselves, and you don’t let others enter either…For you cross land and sea to make one convert, and then you turn that person into twice the child of hell you yourselves are!….You ignore the more important aspects of the law- justice, faith, and mercy…Outwardly you look like righteous people, but inwardly your hearts are full of hypocrisy and lawlessness…Snakes! Sons of vipers!”

That’s pretty intense stuff. As with the parable of the tax collector, Jesus consistently and intently made it evident that God looks at each individual’s heart posture. Only he knows, only he can make judgements. The rest of us are commanded to love.

Three. Jesus understands suffering. I take comfort in knowing this. That when I grieve something or someone, he’s doing it, too. I won’t even begin to compare any of my suffering to what he experienced. But he knew the pain of being betrayed by close friends. He knew the gut-wretchingness of seeing insane injustices all around him. He knew hunger. He knew accusation. He knew the pain of giving up family. He knew the pain of death. He experienced all the emotions I experience. I love worshipping a God who’s response to human suffering was to enter into it- to endure it with me and for me.

Four. Jesus was grace. The crucifixion story amazes me because I see just how jaw-droppingly full of grace God is, even in torture, awaiting an unjust death. His first words on the cross are to ask God to actually forgive the people who are killing him (Luke 23:34). Then, the criminal who hung on the cross next to Jesus, acknowledging Christ’s innocence, asks to be remembered when Jesus enters his kingdom. He doesn’t start confessing his sins or asking how to ‘get saved’, he simply asks to be a part of the kingdom. In his last seconds of life, hanging in excruciating pain on the cross, Jesus assures him they’ll be in paradise together that day (Luke 23:43). And then his last words on the cross moments before he dies are, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

Five. Jesus was a “come to the table” guy. He was known disapprovingly as a friend to prostitutes, tax collectors, lepers, and a whole assortment of social outcasts. Jesus chose to wine and dine this crew. Even the disciples were a bunch of kids who hadn’t made the cut. Jesus seemed to do a lot of his ministry during mealtimes. Jesus’ first miracle (while full of symbolism) was turning tons of water into the best wine to save a bride humiliation and keep the reception dinner party going. During dinner one night, Jesus exemplfies the servanthood of leadership by washing his students’ feet. Jesus taught that the kingdom of heaven is like a wedding feast. Then, most infamously at the last supper he first offers himself as the Eucharist using bread and wine.

Six. Jesus was a story-teller. Who doesn’t love a great storyteller? The endless parables used to get on my nerves a little. If Jesus was worried about making everything clear and not leaving much up for interpretation, I don’t feel like he did that. He was a man of symbolism. I’ve come to hold a deep appreciation for that and what I assume his reasonings are for teaching this way. Parables, or stories that parallel a principle with an easily understood illustration are for one, memorable. They also allowed him to teach controversial lessons without getting in trouble with religious authorities for heresy. They indicate people’s spiritual condition, being lost on those who are resistant to instruction, while piercing the hearts that are open. And ultimately, I think it was because Jesus wanted to show us God, not lecture us about his principles. Jesus illustrates that he wanted us to understand how good God’s kingdom is and what it means for us as broken, fallen people. Jesus was constantly confronted with ways in which God’s intention had been perverted by human brokenness. God’s way had become all about religion and rules, not about humility and love. 

Seven. Jesus meets you where you’re at and has faith in you. Obviously, there are a lot of stories where Jesus is talking to a large group of people, but I’m always most amazed by his one-on-one interactions. He didn’t use a system or have a method when it came to healing and drawing people into relationship with him. He used various methods of speaking commands, asking questions, being touched or touching, forgiveness, compassion, to convey God in the way that specific person needed to receive it. He knew where each person’s faith was at, and he got on that level to call them into restoration. To call them to follow. I love this (paraphrased) part of Rob Bell’s “Dust” sermon…

If you are a disciple, you have committed your entire life to being like your rabbi. If you see your rabbi walk on water, what do you immediately want to do? Walk on water. So this disciple gets out on the water and he starts to sink, so he yells, “Jesus save me!” And Jesus says, “You of little faith, why do you doubt?” Who does Peter lose faith in? Not Jesus; Jesus is doing fine. Peter loses faith in himself. Peter loses faith that he can do what the rabbi is doing. If the rabbi calls you to be his disciple, then he believes you can actually be like him. As we read the stories of Jesus’ life with his disciples, what do we find that frustrates him to no end? When his disciples lose faith in themselves. He doesn’t get frustrated with them because they are incapable, but because of how capable they are. 

So Jesus, at the end of his time, tells the disciples to go make more disciples. Then he leaves. He dies. He promises to send his Spirit to guide and direct them, but the future of the movement is in their hands. He doesn’t stick around to make sure they don’t screw it up. He’s gone. He actually trusts that they can do it. God has an incredibly high view of people. God believes people are capable of amazing things. I’ve been told that I need to believe in Jesus, which is a good thing. But what I’m learning is that Jesus believes in me. 

 

 

 Love,

Taylor

Good Friday Tunes

Love,

Taylor

A Look Back

I was reading through some writings from my time doing art therapy in Uganda and this one particularly stuck out to me this morning:

Each girl has a few minutes to draw whatever she would like. After a while, Megan and I asked them to close their eyes. With eyes closed, Megan and I took black markers and drew some sort of line on their drawing. Essentially, we messed up their pretty little pictures. After we let them express their shock and disappointment, we challenged them to make the black mark a part of their drawing. Turn it into something. Don’t let it ruin the picture, but instead think of it as an opportunity to create something new or different.

And just like that the black lines went from being dark, obstructive, and out of place to being jump ropes, snakes, mountains, gardens, boats, hearts, etc.

Sometimes in life someone or something comes along and messes up your picture. You weren’t ready for it. Your eyes were closed. Maybe you opened up your eyes only to see that someone abducted you at 14 years old and now you’re forced into killing people with your bare hands. Maybe you opened your eyes only to see that your spouse cheated on you and ran off with all your money. Maybe you opened your eyes only to see your house burning in a forest fire. Maybe you opened your eyes only to see that the dream you were chasing is never going to be a reality. Black marks look different for everyone, but they invade all of our pictures from time to time. A lot of people let black marks define their pictures. But, like we told the girls, “You and God in you are capable of making something good and beautiful come from something that once seemed dark and horrible.”

A friend recently told me, “God doesn’t eliminate evil. We don’t really see evidence of that. He transforms it.”

God doesn’t give or use erasers, He’s more creative than that.

I don’t know about some of you, but I’ve got lots of black marks in my picture right now. I feel like all I can do is pray and hold onto my marker. Challenge accepted.

Love,

Taylor

7 Things Sunday

 

 

 

I hope that you all had happy hearts this week! I hate that couples take the cake on Valentine’s Day because really it’s just a day to overtly celebrate love. Anyone and everyone can do that. Think about or do the things that make your heart sing! Treat yo’self: to pedicures. To an extra piece. To a dance in your new underwear. To an hour of quiet. Make things: hats for people with cold heads. Drawings for people with naked fridges. Gluten-free cake for people with sensitive tummies. Tea for the friend who is sad. Give things: Nice words to people without smiles. Kisses and hugs to your grandma, boyfriend, kid or cat. Your precious time to the ignored or poor. Your prayers and thankful heart to the Creator. Remind people they aren’t alone. FYI: This week is Random Acts of Kindness Week! What a perfect way to extend the good love vibes.

It’s interesting to me how love is something so natural and yet I’m always learning more about what it actually is. What it actually means…what it looks like…how it feels. What I knew about love at 14 pales in comparison to what I know now. I wonder what I will know at 30 and 55. It makes me really excited to see how much I’ve learned but to know that I don’t know it all yet.  That there are bursts and depths of love that I have yet to experience. That there are people out there in the world that I will immensely love but have never even seen their faces. That there are places I will leave bits of my heart at, but have never been to. That there is room for my heart to grow and expand, but it has yet to be tested. Right now I’m learning about sad kinds of love. Or bittersweet kinds of love, at least. Love for what is lost and broken. Love for what is out of reach. Love in the midst of everything unknown. The handing over kind of love. The kind of love that rips you apart and holds you together at the same time. I think that’s the kind of love Jesus had. And that’s the kind of love I want to emulate, so maybe this is a good lesson. A good season of learning love.

7 Things I would tell my 14-year old self about love:

Hey you awkward little thing, you:

1. You think you are in love right now. I won’t say you aren’t. I won’t roll my eyes at you and speak of puppy love or whatever it is grown-ups talk about. I won’t tell you that you have no idea what you’re really feeling. I will validate the in-loveness, the euphoria of it all and the earth shattering feeling of when you get rejected. I was thinking about telling you to guard your heart better (as if this is something we all inherently know how to do) so that it doesn’t hurt as much when its over (and then over again) but no…no, don’t do that. Because later on it will just feel silly. In a good way. The kind of silly that makes you smile. The kind of silly that makes you happy you experienced what you did. You eventually forget the hurt and all that’s left is a whimsical, nostalgic kind of thing. I shouldn’t say you forget the hurt. It’s definitely memorable. But the dancing in the rain kind of stuff will be more in focus. We learn from heartache. Everything is a gift, even that part. As Elizabeth Gilbert says, “It’s a good thing; a broken heart. It means we have tried for something.” So I guess what I’m saying is take it all in with everything you’ve got, but then let it be over. Don’t keep trying or desperately hoping for more. Let it be.

2. You’re really good at loving your friends. Love your family more. Friends will still mean everything to you. Friends will still be who you see the most on a daily basis. But don’t miss out on family. I wish I could tell you everything, but just trust me. The family thing gets much better and bigger and more lovely. So give them the quality time they deserve. Your presence is love. Its cliche, but they will literally have your back no matter what. They don’t change. They always love. They will be your sounding board in life.

3.  Sometimes love is making the decision that doesn’t seem loving. Sometimes the most loving thing you can do for a person is to say, “no more.” I know you’ve had it drilled into your brain: love, forgive, love, forgive, love, forgive. But that doesn’t always look how you think it does. You’ll realize all the love and forgiveness you can give doesn’t change a person. And sometimes you end up enabling the bad things because you’re too scared of doing the wrong thing. You’re not a very brave person in that department. You don’t trust yourself very much. It makes me sad. But grace is key to who you are, so don’t change that. Just know that it’s okay. It’s okay to have a breaking point. And it’s okay to not know what God is teaching you before he teaches it to you. It’s okay to let go of whatever is hurting your heart and soul.

4. For goodness sakes, love yourself more. In order to love people well, you do truly need to be in a healthy place of loving oneself. At the end of the day, you are all you have. You have your mind, heart, soul, and body. Take care of it. Love it, with all it’s flaws and all it’s beauty. Love your body. Be outraged at the objectification of the female body. Stop trying to please everyone. It’s okay if people don’t think you’re the greatest or the prettiest. It’s okay if people don’t agree with you. Don’t burn yourself out. Listen to yourself. What do you need? Ok…now do that. It’s quite simple, really. You don’t have to go to that thing because that person will be disappointed if you’re not there. You don’t have to do every little thing someone asks of you. It’s okay to say you’re busy. It’s okay to say you need a night at home. Learn to be in tune with your gut. Sometimes you have to listen to yourself and to God and accept that someone you love might not understand.

5. God loves you, no matter what choices you make. There’s nothing you can do that will ruin His plan. He won’t see you as less of a good person if you do___. Your life isn’t going to be less full or blessed if you ___. You don’t worship a conditional God. No, really. You know this, but knowing it in your head is entirely different from knowing it in your heart. It’s a really hard thing to grasp–unconditional love. Maybe you’ll get it more if you become a mom someday. I don’t know. You definitely have a “gray” perspective. You’re really good at being accepting of everyone else and not being judgmental. You’re really good at knowing if Jesus is the Truth, you’re not…except when it comes to yourself. When it comes to your life, things are more black and white. It’s harder to believe that whole unconditional love thing for yourself than it is for everyone else. But you are, you are so radically loved and accepted just as you are. Don’t let anyone else taint your journey by comparing it to their own. And don’t do that to yourself. Live into what God has for you.

6. Sometimes love needs boundaries to keep hurt and confusion at bay. And then sometimes screw boundaries…love with abandon, my dear.

7. Some of the greatest loves of your life will not be boys. They’ll be the girlfriends who intensely know you and are your memory keepers. They’ll be the places and spaces that saw you through unforgettable seasons of life. They’ll be the children that light up your world and teach you to wonder. They’ll be the roles or vocations that allow you to live out love and purpose. They’ll be the women you look up to, the ones who blazed the trail before you and come back to walk you through it.

Love,

Taylor

 

 

No more faux love

Disclaimer: I’m not looking for you to pick apart my thoughts and show me the error of my ways. I’m a big fan of thoughtful, productive, well-behaved conversation which unfortunately doesn’t come in the form of blog comments. If you’d like to participate in that, let’s set something up.

I can’t get over how heartbreaking and beautiful this blog post from The Registered Runaway is

“But, sometimes, God delivers us out so we can sprint smack dab into Him. His followers have hurt me, yes, but the God who is good, the God who saves me, the God who says- Father is too informal, call me your Abba, pulls me in close and fills up all those empty places with his deep, day-and-night, everlasting love.

And it’s more than enough.”

A read worth your time.

I hope it makes you think, or at least feel something.

I’m not one to parade my political opinions around on social media. I grew up in a fairly conservative family whose stances I am aware of but have never been pressured to make my own. So, even though no one is asking me to do this and maybe no one wants me to do this, well…I’m coming out, in my own way.

I’m a Jesus follower and I will love, be friends with, and support my gay friends who want to get married. For me, being a Christian is much more a way of life than solely a system of beliefs or a book rules. I want to live a life that people see Jesus in. I want people to feel a confrontational, reverberating, powerful love when they get to know me so that I have the opportunity to tell them where it comes from. For me, the reality is that God meets people on individual levels and in individual circumstances. They’re all different and none of them are more or less “right” than the other. You can’t put Him in a box, He doesn’t even fit inside our heads. His ways and thoughts are much higher than mine or yours. I know many people in my community and family would disagree with my view. That’s fine. Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe they’re right. But I’ve learned that God is much less about giving permission to do or not do something, to believe or not believe something and much more about having and giving grace to those who do and do not do, who believe and do not believe.

I think its easy for a lot of Christians to say they love gay people, (even if/when they don’t actually have relationships with gay people) they just don’t love their lifestyle or think that gay sex is immoral, wrong, unnatural, etc. But to really love someone means to give love as a gift without expecting anything in return, right? Unrequited love. The love God has for us that we are supposed to mirror. My question to those people would be, are you really loving gay people, or deep down are you expecting that your love is going to eventually influence them enough that they will change, have a sudden come to Jesus moment, realize their sin, etc? Can you really love someone if you are willing to be nice to them but aren’t willing to accept who they are?  I ask this because it’s a question I had to ask myself.

As Americans, I think our perception of marriage is very small. We only look at what we’ve been exposed to, what has been “natural” or our own culture.  It’s interesting to me how people look to Songs of Solomon as this beautiful, erotic, love story that we quote for marriages but the reality is Solomon was writing about one of 700 wives and 300 concubines. Yeah, what an excellent picture of marital devotion. So what do you say about Christians in places like rural Uganda who still practice polygamy because it’s been ingrained in their culture and is all over Biblical texts or to people who are born with both sets of genitals?

I have a hard time believing that when I die one day and I’m having a nice glass of wine on heaven’s porch with God (hey, a girl can dream a little) that He will get mad at me supporting gay marriage.  I think my life is about so much more than that and I’m doing the best I can with the heart He has given me, the experiences He has used to shape me, and the will He allows me to have. I’ll let Him be the judge and no one else.

Love,

Taylor

Ode to Advent & God Removal

Right now we are in a season of advent. A season in which we remember Emmanuel- God with us. Jesus came not to explain the existence of pain and suffering, nor to rescue us from it. His response to human suffering was to enter into it himself. He came to endure it with us- for us. God is here in the midst of our suffering.

There are no words for what happened in Connecticut this weekend. But my thoughts, along with everyone else trail to, “Why, God? Why?” I hear people claiming that these terrible things happen because we have removed God from our schools and political platforms. It kind of baffles me really, that people who claim to know God would say that. Suggesting that we have the power to remove the creator of the universe from our school buildings and society. That somehow we have just kicked Him out and kept Him from entering in. That He isn’t present in people and places everywhere. The God I have read about and come to know isn’t easily dictated by humanity, and he certainly doesn’t give up quickly.

In Hosea 12, God says, “My heart is torn within me, and my compassion overflows.” Our God feels and knows pain. The book of Jeremiah is loaded with images of God’s heartbreak and desire for the Israelites to turn back to Him. It doesn’t matter how many times they mess up or how many times they “take Him out” of life- He’s there. Waiting. Watching. Involved. When God saw what humankind was capable of in Genesis, He responded with grieving. What kind of God chooses to feel the pain that mere humans feel? Emmanuel- God with us.

In Jesus, God sent someone to take on all our mistakes, our burdens, our suffering. He was innocent! His “crime” was being crazy enough to suggest that to be the first, you must be the last. Declaring that God’s blessing was upon the poor, not the rich. For telling the religious, self-righteous bastards to shut up (Matthew 23) and justifying the sinner with a repentant heart (Luke 18). And that it’s not enough to just “love” people.

The crucifixion story amazes me because I see just how jaw-droppingly full of grace God is, even in torture, awaiting an unjust death. His first words on the cross are to ask God to actually forgive the people who are killing him (Luke 23:34). Then, the criminal who hung on the cross next to Jesus, acknowledging Christ’s innocence, asks to be remembered when Jesus enters his kingdom. He doesn’t start confessing his sins or inviting Jesus into his heart, he simply asks to be a part of the kingdom. In his last seconds of life, hanging in excruciating pain on the cross, Jesus assures him they’ll be in paradise together that day (Luke 23:43). And then his last words on the cross moments before he dies are, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Mark 15:34). Jesus knows pain and suffering better than I ever will. God knows the pain of losing an innocent child.

I’m not going to bother trying to comprehend the incomprehensible. But I will take comfort in knowing that God is well-versed in issues of pain and suffering. When I don’t understand I choose to put my hope in Him.

Lamentations 3: 19-30 (MSG)

Love,

Taylor

Do You Know the Poor?

Parental influence and involvement in political activities is one of the largest predictors of where their children’s vote will go.

So, this election I’ve been seriously pondering why my political tendencies are different from that of my own family. Politics were rarely brought up in my presence. In my opinion, this was great because I always relatively knew where my parents stood, but it allowed me to keep a very open mind and make a decision for myself.

I believe for most people, political preference simply comes down to personal life experience. When I think about my depression-era Grandpa who grew up in rural Iowa, a staunch Dutchman, man of God’s word, a tax accountant who had two or three kids by the time he was my age, it makes sense for him to vote Republican. When I think about my friend who is Hispanic, Catholic, left a gang when he became a dad of two, juggling a job at Wal-Mart and an auto-body shop while taking college classes to become an art teacher, I understand why he votes Democrat. It’s not right or wrong. It just is. And it’s a good thing, because America is a melting pot for a reason and we need to see things lots of different ways.

When I think about myself, I come from a conservative, hard-working, middle-class family. I chose to be a Christian and for me following Jesus meant loving the poor, homeless, orphaned, and broken. Not just sending them a check and prayers. It meant praying with them, touching them, smelling them, eating their food, sleeping on their floors, and attempting to see their life in the way Jesus so profoundly did (and I should still do a better job). And those people affected me and changed my way of thinking. I married someone who shared those thoughts, or actions. We got married young-really young. So we’re kind of broke and have had to live life in ways a lot of married couples don’t. But I’ve never been worried about being poor and desperate because we have networks. We have LOTS of family, friends, and churches that would cushion the blow if something devastating were to happen. So many people in America don’t have that. And here’s where my background and my current state divide.

I think a lot of people, perhaps some of my own family included, have a very inaccurate depiction of the poor. And this deeply, deeply saddens me.

First of all, to understand the poor, you must know the poor. If you want to talk to me about the poor I want to hear you say their names, show me their faces; tell me about their lives, and what your relationship with them has been like. Because if you’re going to tell me that volunteering to feed the homeless twice a year or donating your used clothing to a local mission is how you “know the poor” I think you have the Gospel all wrong.

If you think the majority of people on welfare abuse the system, if these people would just get jobs it would solve a lot of problems, or if you think tough love is going to change them then you don’t understand the culture of poverty. If my grandparents were poor, and my parents were poor, I’m going to be poor. And if by some miracle I make it through high school and into college and I make good money, my money goes to my family because they need help whether they’re in America or in another country.  If I have an influx of income, I spend it because it could be taken away at any moment. No one has sat me down and taught me how to save and honestly, you really can’t live off of minimum wage. Point being, if you didn’t grow up in poverty you have no way of comprehending what it is really like. I know I don’t! But I’ve tried hard to. You can get a better idea by building ACTUAL relationships with the homeless, orphaned, widowed, and disabled in your community. I promise if you do (and if you’re a Christian, you are CALLED to do this), your heart and your head might change a little or a lot.

I’m not politically savvy in the least bit and I choose to put my hope in God no matter who sits in office. I realize these conversations about poverty and politics and religion could go on for days and I really only skim the surface of a lot more I’d love to say. I understand it is not a black and white issue and am not claiming to be correct about everything. I just want to encourage people, especially my fellow Jesus-followers, to ask yourselves what your relationship with the poor looks like? Do you even have one? If you don’t, do you make judgments or have pre-conceived notions about the poor? Spend some time reading over scripture about God’s heart for justice. Justice for the physically poor, spiritually poor, homeless, widowed, orphaned, and foreigner.

Love,

Taylor

“We can admire and worship Jesus without doing what he did. We can applaud what he preached and stood for without caring about the same things. We can adore his cross without taking up ours. I had come to see that the great tragedy of the church is not that wealthy Christians do not care about the poor but that wealthy Christians do not know the poor.”

― Shane Claiborne, The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical