i interrupt this silence with an important message… 15.November.2009

Church lasted half an hour today, and since we were fifteen minutes late, it lasted fifteen minutes for us.  Pastor Pete preached on love — the kind of love by which people will know we are disciples of Jesus.  We didn’t know it was coming, but at the end of his message, Pete asked our church to help fill the local food banks.  Metrocrest Food Pantry was full at the beginning of last week; today it is empty.  There is need.  And the body of Jesus Christ — we are the need-fillers. 

Ushers handed out a little paper, mapping out nearby grocery stores and a list of most needed items at the food bank.  We all huddled together and said, “Break!”  And then we were commissioned to storm the local grocery stores to shop for the people who can’t afford to shop for themselves. We’re taking food to an empty parking lot, where trucks are sitting until mid-afternoon today, being loaded up to take the food where it needs to go.

About ten area churches partnered with ours in this effort to feed the hungry.  It is not only our church, but the Church.  The hands and feet of Jesus do not keep themselves within the walls of a church building, or even within the walls of a denomination.  Tonight, we are praising Jesus together.

I just had to tell you because I had this surge of excitement to really be part of feeding the hungry right now.  Not next month, or next year, when I’ve gotten my act together and my theology on giving all straightened out.  But now, together with my brothers and sisters.

I wonder what it would look like for the Church in every city — big and small – to break out their wallets and feed the hungry, on the count of one… two… three.  Would it endanger hunger itself?

finally, some political conclusions 3.November.2008

“Never underestimate the power of a few committed people to change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has” (Margaret Mead).
Foreword:  I wish I had the time and energy to respond to each of you separately, but again, I can only thank you for the time and thought you put into your responses to my last post.  It all was food for thought.  Some of it angered me; some of it challenged and changed my convictions; all of it was appreciated.  I believe such candid discussions bless and refine our communities.
Thanks to Jill’s link to Jim Wallis’s article on listing one’s own “faith priorities,” I have made my own list of non-negotiables — issues of faith that I believe should not be compromised in politics.  It’s this list that’s guiding me as I go into the voting booth tomorrow.  I come at most of my faith priorities from an obviously Christian viewpoint, but I have realized that no candidate can fulfill all of the items on my wishlist.  Jesus could, I think, or at least He could change my mind to see where I’ve misread His priorities.  I foolishly maintain that Jesus is the answer for everybody everywhere, and the only reason we can’t figure out how to run a nation with perfection is because we don’t have enough of Him and His philosophy.  (Speaking of Jesus, I really want to read Shane Claiborne and Chris Haw’s book Jesus for President: Politics for Ordinary Radicals as soon as possible!)
My Non-Negotiables

1. A pro-life perspective.  On war, abortion, and life-threatening diseases, I will support a presidential candidate who not only protects the life of the unborn without reservation, but also protects the lives of its citizens, even those in the military.  While military troops may be willing to give their life, I believe a President should only risk those lives if absolutely necessary, and furthermore will not abuse his power by choosing to go to war without the proper support of the other branches of government.  Life threatening diseases are of particular concern in third-world countries, and I will support a presidential candidate who makes foreign aid (either through the government or through the American people) a priority.  I also believe that the death penalty should be abolished because I believe in forgiveness and redemption.

2. Care for the weak.  Based on many verses scattered throughout Deuteronomy, the Psalms and verses like Luke 3.11 (“[Jesus] answereth and saith unto them, He that hath two coats, let him impart to him that hath none; and he that hath meat, let him do likewise.”), it’s obvious God cares for the widow, the orphan, and the poor.  He asks me to care for these groups of people regardless of how much they deserve it.  They do not supersede His importance (see Mark 14.7), but especially now that Christ is not with us in flesh, we are called to represent Him to the poor, the widows and orphans, and to all the world.  God cares about those with little strength, and I can support a candidate who respects God’s perspective in this.

3. Freedom.  As a Christian, I find true freedom through Christ, but insofar as the Constitution claims to protect its citizens’ “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness” (as well as some other freedoms), I will support a candidate who will uphold these rights.  Specific freedoms on my mind (by no means exhaustive) are the freedom of speech (so that I may spread the gospel) and the freedom of homosexuals to marry.  American freedoms should only be limited when they endanger another person’s freedom (as in the needful arrest of a criminal).

4.  Environmental care.  The earth is the Lord’s; we are its stewards.  I will support a candidate who does not promote further tearing down of God’s Creation, but allows it to be sustained and nurtured.

5. Inclusiveness.  This concept mainly deals with immigration.  If our nation is to live by moral, just principles, we should embrace those who wish to join our social experiment.  Deuteronomy 10.18 says, “[God]… shows His love for the alien by giving him food and clothing.”  We need a nation that will allow this type of open door philosophy.

6. Cultural regeneration.  Political officials should applaud healthy family values and the necessity of quality education over economics.  I will support a candidate who does this.

Choosing a Candidate
I’ve come to a conclusion whom to vote for, by the way.  Want to know who it is?  Well, my friend Tami sent me a few notes after my original political post, assuring me that a vote cast for a third-party candidate would not be wasted.  She gently introduced me to Chuck Baldwin, a Constitutional party presidential candidate endorsed by my old favorite, Ron Paul.  Baldwin is a little unrefined, his website unpolished, and has held no government office.  He fails to mention poverty or the environment on his site, which bothered (bothers) me.

But he has some interesting things to say about abortion:

“Republicans tout themselves as being “pro-life.” Yet, the GOP controlled both houses of Congress and the White House for six years and did absolutely nothing to overturn Roe or end abortion-on-demand. If the Republicans were really serious about being pro-life they could have already ended legal abortion in America. Obviously the Republican Party and most GOP politicians are not serious about ending abortion, but are, regrettably, simply content to perpetuate the issue to manipulate pro-life voters.

Under my administration, we could end legal abortion in a matter of days, not decades. And if Congress refuses to pass Dr. Paul’s bill, I will use the constitutional power of the Presidency to deny funds to protect abortion clinics. Either way, legalized abortion ends when I take office.”

Having read that, I was wondering: What exactly is the saving grace for the Republican party, if, as Baldwin claims, the pro-life agenda is only a campaign point for them? If McCain will cut my taxes, won’t Baldwin, as a small-government, unbending Constitutionalist, cut them more?

And so my thinking spiraled into a series of what if questions:

• What if I had more money to give to the world’s poor, or to give to the perpetuation of the gospel message, or to give to the building of a more environmentally just future?  Would my dollar — and the dollars of those who care for social justice — stretch further than if it were in the hands of the government in the form of taxes?
• What if there were more competition in the health sector?  Would natural health remedies be more common and celebrated?  Would necessary prescription drugs be more fairly priced?
• What if “we are the ones we’ve been waiting for?   What if “we are the change that we seek?”  If volunteerism and “every man for his neighbor” were philosophies that began to blossom throughout our country, would we need the government to do the jobs of poverty-fighting and carbon-taxing?

And then on the flip side, I wondered:

• Isn’t Constitutionalism a bit ruthless?  Without the regulation of the government, won’t Americans all the more seek their plastic castles at the lowest price possible?  Won’t they cease to care about how their food is produced, or from whom their oil comes?

But it turns out I believe in the triumph of good over evil (I know, I know, that’s a big, assuming statement!).  I really do believe in grassroots movements to spread messages of love and change.  I believe that by picking trash up in the park, I have done my part in reducing the need for government (and I’ve taught my son something about caring for the gift of nature).  I have hope that our nation’s financial struggles and health crises and embarrassment of an educational system will be recognized through the voices of the passionate.  New remedies can be sought be more easily when freedom is at its height.

So, in the end, Chuck Baldwin will get my vote tomorrow, for a few reasons:

1.  I like the idea of voting for a third-party candidate.  If we look toward the future, hoping for a party that conforms more accurately to our political priorities, one of the best ways to make that happen is to stop voting for the Big Elephant or the Big Donkey, and vote for a human instead.  (Please don’t take offense at my facetiousness!)

2. I believe in the power of average citizens (and especially those powered by Christ) to bring about change.

3. I can vote for Baldwin with the least guilt, given my “faith priorities.”
How Baldwin Meets My Priorities

It is a little difficult to go into depth on how Baldwin specifically fulfills all of these (or even most of them), since many of these “faith priorities” have been placed under my responsibility because his Constitutional ideals.  Protection of life (priority 1) and freedom (priority 3) are two cases over which I have little to no control as a citizen, and Baldwin’s presidential plan takes these into consideration.  As for the others, I will try to create a picture of how most of these priorities can be played out under his presidency.

1. A pro-life perspective.  Baldwin is unapologetically against abortion, protecting the life of the unborn baby.  He also firmly stands against engaging in wars that do not directly endanger the rights of the American people.  He says, “‘Supporting the troops’ means putting their interests and America’s interests first and not in needlessly endangering them by engaging in ‘policeman of the world’ military adventures all over the world.”  I believe this is an important “pro-life” stance to hold.  As for exercising a pro-life stand in regard to life-threatening diseases here and around the world, I believe that Constitutionalism has the potential to make the greatest impact on eradicating HIV/AIDS, malaria, tuberculosis, starvation, and other life-threatening conditions.  Try this on for size:  Barack Obama pledges to double foreign aid from $25 billion to $50 billion dollars by 2012 — a commendable goal.  But for the 300 million Americans to meet the same financial goal without the government as the go-between, each citizen would have to give only $166 per year.  A pipe dream?  Not if taxes were significantly relieved.  Not if this modest goal were perpetuated by a small group of committed people.

2. Care for the weak.  Again, Baldwin’s plans calls for the citizens to tend to these issues, rather than the government.  So, in a way, I’m voting for myself to get this done.  But with Darrell Castle (the vice-presidential candidate) as the founder of an organization which ministers to homeless gypsy children in Romania, I’m hopeful that care for the weak is a priority that will be supported by a Baldwin presidency.

3. Freedom.  Chuck Baldwin’s Constitutionalism sounds like the best plan I’ve heard to protect an individual’s right to freedom –for protection against slavery, for protection of rights for homosexuals, for choice and competition in education, the right to eat as one desires, etc.  His plan gives no special rights to anyone, but protects each citizen equally.

4. Environmental care.  While I think a carbon tax like Obama proposes could reduce the negative impact Americans have on the environment, it may not teach them to care about nature or understand its role in our lives.  Baldwin doesn’t address the environment specifically, but my hope is that his Constitutionalist message would increase competition for farmers, stop the subsidizing of single-crop farming (read: corn!), and promote organic, sustainable agriculture.

5. Inclusiveness.  On immigration reform, Baldwin is a bit tough on illegals, as my friend Tami warned me.  While I agree that there have to be restrictions and laws in place to protect American citizens, to ship all illegals back to their respective countries (as Baldwin wants to do) would be unnecessary if they are willing to go through the proper procedures.  Baldwin welcomes legal immigrants.  I admit Baldwin comes short of the mark on this priority.

6. Cultural regeneration.  As far as I have seen, Chuck Baldwin supports and models healthy family values.  Baldwin’s plan for education is to eradicate the Department of Education and do away with public schooling.  Can you imagine that?  He argues that the Constitution doesn’t give the government power over education, and that privatizing education would improve its quality.  I would love to be part of this experiment!
Some Final Thoughts

Some of Chuck Baldwin’s ideas seem far-fetched, and I admit, I can’t imagine living the United States he describes.  But if it happens, I want to be a part of it.  To avoid the ruthlessness of having a smaller government, to prevent the public from destroying itself, I believe Constitutionalism calls on the Christian church and other concerned and caring citizens to promote principles of health and life and love to those who are less fortunate.  In fact, I believe that’s the only way Constitutionalism will work.  We cannot look at Constitutionalism as “every man for himself” but as “every man for his neighbor.”  That’s the kind of nation I want to live in.  And that’s what I’m voting for tomorrow.

But (ding!) let me just wake up to reality and admit that Chuck Baldwin will not win tomorrow.  I still refuse to fear either the Republican or Democrat candidate.  I do not agree enough with either of them to give them my vote, but I will give them my prayers and support.  My sister Rachel posted a blog article called “Religion and Politics”, in which she shared the main points from her pastor’s sermon on Sunday.  For a Christian in this election, her thoughtful post was such good news.  To borrow her pastor’s final questions:

• Where is your hope?
• Are you going into Tuesday with fear or faith?
• Most of all, is this fear or faith stoking your desire to go into the world with the gospel?

Finally, after a lot of stressful reading and pondering, I’m happy with my answers to those questions.

i am from 28.July.2008

I am from the rolling, foliaged hills.  I am from rows of corn, standing tall and packed together.  I am from empty pastureland, from brome grass, black-eyed Susans, and phlox, from where bumblebees forage for pollen.  I am from cicadas sawing their rhythm into the gathering dusk.

I am from Childcraft books and the big purple dictionary, from orange, deep green, and light green carpet, from painted blocks that smell like wood and dirty fingers.

I am from the farm.  I am from the green lawn with a homemade tree swing and butt-pinchin’ time.  I am from the black-soiled garden where potatoes are dropped into holes beside the cold, narrow spade.  I am from the long lanes and the hoghouses and the warm, dust-coated barn where the kittens live.  I am from pick-ups smelling of sour grain.

I am from loud-talking Germans and plates of Spaetzle and Knoepfle, from the clicking closet and from damp kisses, and squishy, infrequent hugs.  I am from hard, grey cookies, and I am from lusciously chocolaty buckeyes, English toffee, and boob cookies.

I am from lots of laughter, from notebook paper filled with preteen handwriting.  I am from puzzles, crochet, cross stitch, and the Lucky Clover 4-H club.

I am from the church on Virginia, from veiled, calm-smiled women and black-coated, sober men.  I am from church potlucks and crowds that smell like leftover potluck food.  I am from the back pew, where I make tallies of the number of times the minister clears his throat.  And I am from the second pew where I listen for a word from Jesus.

I am from blue crinkled eyes and the biggest callused hands in the world.  I am from nonsense songs in the countryside and “Will you scratch my back?”  I am from “Little Black Sambo” and “The Cookie Monster.”

I am from job charts, shiny hands, rounded fingernails, and Grandmother’s Apple Dessert.  I am from the chair in front of the purple robe, from curling irons, French braids, and breakfasts on time.  I am from a surprisingly soft hug.

I am from the quiet places alone, from sobbing corners, and from conversations with imaginary friends.

I am from a God who sent me Jesus.  I am from a self-prescribed cure, and I am from a pool of grace.  I am from “I am screwed up” and from jubilant heights of freedom.

I am from dust.  I am from eternity.

I don’t know where this meme originated, but ever since reading Mary’s collection of stories on Owlhaven, I have wanted to write my own “I am From” story.  Ann from A Holy Experience reposted a beautiful rendition called “From” on her blog this morning, and I decided hers was too inspiring to wait any longer.

and who is my neighbor? 16.June.2008

I walk the streets outside my house.  They are dotted with strangers in cars.  The front doors of houses are usually silent and closed, window blinds drawn.  But the lawns are lush and green, telling me that there is life.  There must be.

Outside my window, in the vast expanse of my suburb, families live.  I live inside my house for more hours of the day than I live anywhere else.  And only yards away, living in their house, is another family I have never met.   

When we moved into the neighborhood, I baked extra Christmas goodies and hand-delivered them to the four houses adjacent to ours.  This was something I had wanted to do for years,  and I finally mustered up the courage.  My neighbors surprised me by not being scary, by not having a hood over their eyes, with a cold, lifeless hand extended to take their cookies.  No one slammed a door in my face.  All of them were friendly, you know?  With every neighbor, we had this thing called a conversation.  They were people.

But with the exception of one family, whose daughter we asked to come babysit for Isaiah two times, we have not had another conversation since then.  It has been almost six months.

Does that make your heart sink with emptiness as it does mine?

Why have we as Americans chosen to live in such an isolated and isolating manner, estranging ourselves from the people who live right next to us?  Mrs. Pivec at Golightly Place posted on a related topic last week.  I encourage you to read her post, including her comment in response to mine.

In America, it is no longer mind-boggling to travel to the other end of the country in a matter of hours.  We have this group of people called commuters – those who drive often insane distances to work every day.  In choosing a church, distance is hardly on the top of our list of deciding factors. 

When Kyle and I first moved to a new state, we drove over three hours to church every Sunday.  (Yes, that was one way.)  It drained us every week, but we were convinced that keeping denominational ties was worth it.  I told inquiring friends that some people in third-world countries no doubt walk more than three hours to a church on Sunday, so I surely shouldn’t count the drive a burden.  I love the people in that little church, and while I don’t suggest church seekers throw all scrutiny of doctrine to the wind, I do regret not having learned how to step out of my comfort zone a little sooner in life.  What opportunities for touching lives were right outside my very door, while I insisted upon handpicking the people I would like to get to know?

Maybe this is why I hate surburbia.  Maybe this is why I want to get away.  It is not just that the houses are void of character, but also that they are full of strangers.

But maybe the quickest way to get away from a stranger is to make him your friend.

celebrating Christ with joy 3.April.2008

As I’ve finished my year of spiritual disciplines, the practice of joy has been the most lasting and fulfilling of all the disciplines.  I chose to read Psalm 119 repeatedly, often aloud, in the weeks before Easter, to remind myself to delight in the word of God.  I want God’s passions to be my passions, so that the actions and thoughts that overflow from my heart are ones that exude the joy and glory of God.

“Celebration is essential to joy,” Jim Wallis writes in The Soul of Politics.  I don’t think a statement like that needs context.  Holidays like Easter should be commemorated with the utmost jubilation.  Many churches today seem to have set aside meaningful traditions, perhaps in an effort to squash out rituals that had become legalistic and cold.  But in so doing, we have lost the art of teaching and enjoying and celebrating.  I want Isaiah — and all my children — to understand why we believe what we believe, why we do the things we do.  To celebrate in tangible ways is to make my life full of Christ, so that he is my family’s meditation “when [we] sit in [our] house and when [we] walk along the road and when [we] lie down and when [we] rise up” (Deuteronomy 11.19, New American Standard Version).  Too many holidays have gone by in my life with only consumer-driven traditions.  I have learned to be thankful for physical gifts but have not learned to be thankful for sanctification, for deliverance, for redemption, for consummation, and for reconciliation.

On Sunday, our church had a Messianic Jewish guest speaker (Steven Ger, from Sojourner Ministries) who explained the spiritual significance of the Seder meal Jews enjoy at Passover.  I came away wanting to celebrate such a meal with my family and friends, retelling the story of rescue and forgiveness and healing every year.  The symbols of wine and bitter herbs, salt water and hyssop are powerful teaching tools.  If an event like the Exodus is worth celebrating with such dedication, how much the more is Christ’s work at Easter?

I was most impacted by Ger’s description of the matzoh — the unleavened bread.  There is a Jewish tradition to put pieces of matzoh into three compartments of a bag.  The piece in the middle compartment is taken out, wrapped in a linen napkin, and hidden away until after the meal.  The other two pieces of matzoh are eaten.  When the meal is completely over, the hidden piece is retrieved, broken, and eaten.  Although Jews disagree amongst each other as to the meaning and beginning of this tradition, the three-compartment bag perfectly symbolizes the Trinity.  The middle piece, Christ, was hidden away in the tomb in linen cloths.  But in his resurrection, he finishes the work with his broken body.  Ger likened the unleavened bread to the unleavened (or sinless) Messiah.  The matzoh, like Christ, is pierced and striped.

The Christian Communion cup took on a whole new significance, too, once I understood more about the Jewish Passover meal.  While four cups of wine are traditionally taken at a Seder meal, Jesus introduced a fifth at the Last Supper with his disciples.  This cup represents the new covenant, the blood poured out in forgiveness of our sin.  Without this cup of reconciliation, Gentiles like me have no part in God’s redemptive plan.  But the cross and the resurrection change all of that.

I’m an amateur at explaining such significant spiritual concepts.  I only know that with a tangible symbol, I start to get it.  I start see what’s worth celebrating.  I remember to celebrate with joy.

blogland favorites 27.March.2008

I haven’t been overly generous in publicizing the blogs I read, so here’s a special post to recognize my favorite blogs created by people I’ve never met.  (If you’re interested in reading my friends’ blogs, check my comments.  I figure they’ll provide a link if they want to be found.)

1. the ashram

Oh, how I love this blog.  It is written by members of a Christian community in Lexington, Kentucky.  It is brimming with examples of how to communally live in the fullness of Christ.  These people have creativity, passion for living holy lives, concern for the environment, intentionality in creating meaningful relationships.  The bloggers publish thoughtful poetry, powerful quotations, important and timely web links, and compelling photography.  I just wish Lexington, Kentucky were a little closer to Dallas.

2. Owlhaven

This is my favorite adoption blog, to date.  I think Mary, the author of Owlhaven, may well be a superwoman.  She shares a lot about the goings-on of her ten children (a mix of biological and adopted kids), and throws in some adoption advice and helpful house-running tips along the way.

3. zenhabits

This popular and highly successful blog is well-organized, topically focused, and inspiring.  I don’t visit it often, but I know it’s there as a great resource on how to live simply and minimalistically. (Is that redundant?)

4. walk slowly, live wildly

Hands down, my favorite blog right now.  This girl is my hero.  How can one person be so spiritually focused, creative, interesting, unafraid, and green all at the same time?  She loves books, has dreads, and tours the the country in an RV that runs on veggie oil.  She has another blog, happy foody, where she sings the praises of eating raw (a little too brave for me), but walk slowly, live wildly is where I hang my hat.

5. The “Blog” of “Unnecessary” Quotation Marks

Okay, I’ll admit, this one is getting a little old, but some of the posts are a lot of fun.  The blog’s sole purpose is to publish pictures of signs that use quotation marks unnecessarily, which, obviously, is right up my “alley.”

6. The Pioneer Woman Cooks!

I stayed up way too late last night reading this blog for the first time.  This is the secondary site of Pioneer Woman Ree.  Her other site is undergoing a facelift, but I think it’s almost done.  I was overwhelmed with all the pictures when I read the first post, but Ree is so funny in her cooking banter that she drew me in.  Her recipes are not fancy or health-conscious, but they sound yummy (and the pictures are pretty!). 

tradition 4.January.2008

In the church I grew up in, there was this beautiful time of fellowship after the Communion service, when all the members – all 150 or so of them – would lace their way through the pews of the church and greet every other person there. The line would start at the front, with the ministers, and every bench would play “follow the leader” until every person had been greeted by everyone else. It was so beautiful because no one could avoid anyone else. They were – at least for that evening – one body in social unity.

the curse of anonymity 24.September.2007

There are pieces of me I’m afraid to tell, out in the open like this.  I’m afraid to tell of my journey in the Apostolic Christian Church, afraid to tell of my journey away from it.  I’m afraid to talk about my family too much, except the parts that exude joy.  I’m afraid to name names, to describe deep hurts, to delve into the details of marriage and money.

But I am a writer.  Sometimes I think I can only be a true writer when I am willing to lay it all out on the table.  In a way, to describe my deepest thoughts and pains and longings is to expose my jugular for anyone who comes along.  Or maybe it’s more than that.  Maybe it’s also exposing the jugular — or the private parts? — of the people closest to me.  My family, my husband, my former churchmates — they didn’t sign up to be written about like any old fictional character.

I wonder if creating is the most vulnerable profession in the world.  There is no taking back, no unpublishing, no privacy.  Unless, of course, you don’t write with full abandon.

Sometimes I wish that the stuff I wrote for others didn’t have to have a sense of anonymity about it.  I wish I could write whatever was calling to be released from my soul.

awe 24.September.2007

We took Communion in joy–
for once–
drinking that bitter cup
with jubilation.
“Drink and enjoy.”
And I did,
looking up at my Saviour
with adoration.

tablemates 23.August.2006

In his book The Ragamuffin Gospel, Brennan Manning writes about a friend of his who said her greatest anxiety about going to Heaven was not being able to choose her tablemates at the heavenly banquet.

And then someone told me this joke a couple months ago, in which St. Peter was giving some new residents of Heaven a tour of their new home. He walked them down the streets of gold, showed them the various mansions, and let them see what was behind the doors. The group walked down a small hallway, past a closed door, and Peter shushed everybody — finger on his lips. “Now you have to be very quiet,” he said. Everybody wondered why. “Because behind that door…” Peter said, “that’s where the [Southern Baptists, Catholics, Apostolic Christians -- you fill it in as you choose] live. They think they’re the only ones here.”

I laughed.

The humor has faded; the joke is not funny. It is sad and sick and twisted. Whether exclusive Christianity is common in one denomination or another is not the question. The question is: how often do thoughts of my exclusive acceptance in Heaven cross my mind, not necessarily excluding Christians of different denominations but individuals?

How do I love with the love of Christ, the love that says to the sinner, “Yes, you were a prostitute, a liar, a miserly tax collector, a homosexual. But go, and sin no more. You are a child of the King now — His child. I love you.” Under the blood of Christ, I have no room for haughtiness, looking down on the people I think are more annoying than me. I have nothing to boast about. I’m as sinful as the next guy. Do racism, anger, pride, little white lies displease the Lord any less than murder, homosexuality, robbery?

In Heaven, my forgiven tablemates are overcomers. There is no heirarchy. God looks at my brother who, on earth, struggled with pornography and sees “clean.” God looks at me — my lips that used to drip with complaints, my body that used to be drenched in slothfulness, my mind, my eyes, my feet, my hands, my heart — and sees “clean.”

We sit together at the table (in Heaven… or is it right here, today?). And when my tablemate tells me he never had a church because he never stopped going to mosque after he started believing in Christ, I don’t want to have to doubt how that could be possible of a true Christian. I want to rejoice that I know such a man, an overcomer, covered in the blood of Christ just like me.