The Call

A friend of mine posted on Facebook today: 

Ive been wanting to ask my fellow Christians an important political question today. As Christians we know that all of the troubles facing our society today are a result of our sinful brokenness. Poverty, oppression, the broken family structure, drug addiction, violence, these all stem from our sinful appetites. 
My question is: why do we look to the government to solve problem that humans by their own nature cannot fix? If the church truly is the body of Christ in this world, why do we look to others to fix the problems that Christ himself addressed. He didn’t condemn Herod or Caesar for not ending slavery or for not caring for the poor. He didn’t demand a minimum wage or free healthcare. He didn’t criticize the Romans violence and oppression. He didn’t come to say those things, and discussion of those topics are for another time. My point is that Christ came to call us to repentance and to a new life of true freedom. Freedom in spite of the brokenness of our world. We can be poor yet rich, broken yet whole, and return good for evil. Why do we expect a politician to do the work of the Holy Spirit? Republican or Democrat if you expect a bunch of men on a hill to accomplish the societal change that can only start with inner revival then you’re out of touch with reality. The Holy Spirit cant just be on Capitol Hill, or in the White House, or written in the law. It must be in the Church. It starts in our homes, on our streets, in our communities, in our hearts.

I suppose I have more questions than answers about this issue he describes prior to asking his point. 

Should we exclusively as churches deal with this issue or should we as Christians vote in candidates who will help steer the government in a direction to take care of people on a mass scale? Which does the most good? Can that even be quantified? I don’t know what the “most good” can even look like in a social climate prone to corruption and destruction. 

In our broken state, and even with the Holy Spirit, doesn’t the same kind of broken affect the Church as well? Wouldn’t that also mean that there is a possibility for corruptibility and if so would it do more harm in the sight of the world and “cause our brothers and sisters to stumble” if the Church to have a slip up? Would that be effective to the cause? Is such a slip up inevitable? Look at the issues of the Catholic Church and all those molestation accusations they had. How many people ran in shame and disappointment then? In counterpoint, those who stayed in the Church, how many forgave the kind of people who committed such atrocities? How does all that reflect on the record? 

In addition, would we run into the problem of the Church being a commodity instead of a spiritual and communal relationship? How does that affect the cause? 

How much has present government influence tied the Church’s hands? 
It’s such a big hot topic issue with so many scenarios and a lot of factors. None of which I think have a definitive or even correct answer. I still wonder if perhaps our fear of these questions and their potential results is what stops the Church from living up to its full potential. 
1 John 4:18 tells us “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love.” 
We have forgotten this. We have forgotten that throwing money at people and actually loving them are two different things. Can we even come back from going so far? Has the revival halted? As Christians, what is stopping us from using the full power of the Holy Spirit? 

Finally…

After several months of waiting and waiting, I had thought the ship had sailed. I was convinced and disappointed. It was a great position. Only five minutes from my house. What are the odds of that? Finding a corporate graphic design job only five minutes from my house in a tiny lakeside town very few people in the world had heard of? I thought it was impossible. Still, I waited. Nothing. I waited longer. Nothing. I e-mailed asking how things were going. I got a generic response of noncommittal and affirmation that they were still interviewing. I waited more.

Eventually my wedding came and went. Still nothing. I had given them the dates I would be “away” on my honeymoon, so part of me still hoped that  they were considering me and not counting me out. Still, there was that other part of me whispering that it wouldn’t happen. Not to me. It was too big of a step. Too much for me. There were so many other talents and people asking for less from them financially. Every doubt encircled my heart, and I became discouraged. Still, I was tired from looking for other jobs. I stopped looking. Kept going to work at retail, praying hard that God would open a door somewhere.

“We need another hand in the gift shop, and obviously we thought of you right away. It’d only be short hour, but it would give you a better financial situation.”

I was flattered that the Director of the museum wanted me to switch from volunteer to paid associate. I wanted to say yes, but he inquired about the interviews I had for the design position. I told him honestly that I hadn’t heard anything back, but I wasn’t sure what to expect really.

“There is a part of me that says I ought to wait on this.”

He nodded knowingly. Kindred spirit to my own.

“We can play it by ear, but by saying this, I have a feeling that I’m going to lose you to them. You’re talented and very special.”

I was so encouraged. A fellow designer, professional, and creative twice my senior thought I had what it took. I held on a little while longer to that little glimmer of hope. There was also a bit of relief knowing that even if I didn’t get the design job, money was going to come from somewhere. I wasn’t being left out here, trapped in a position in retail that wasn’t doing anything for me. I had options that would be supplemental, fulfilling, and use my expertise. I thanked God for listening to me, even if it was for a moment.

“Have you heard back from them babe?” My husband asked the evening he came home from his first day at his new job.

“No. The ship has sailed I think. It’s been nearly a month since I last heard anything.”

“You never know though.”

“I do know.”

I didn’t know.

That same evening my iPad told me I had an e-mail notification. It was them.

I got the job.

Thoughts on 9 Days of Marriage

I really don’t want this to sound cold, because marriage is a very significant commitment to so many people, including myself. However, I understand now why people don’t seem to feel like marriage is as big of a deal as others. Sure, you have the ceremony. Sure you have the reception and party a bit. Sure you have the honeymoon and in my case, lose your virginity. However, none of these things seem to make you “feel” any different. At least in my case it doesn’t. I love my husband just as much as the day I married him. I love him just as much as when we would only see each other every few months. I love him just as much as when we spoke every night on the phone. I love him the same when I wake up and when I go to sleep, if he’s next to me or not. Nothing really changes. You just kinda go from being together…to being together forever.

There is of course a knowledge there that you’ve made the commitment, but there really isn’t much of an indicator that gives you a “feeling” of being married. I was speaking to my husband about it just the other night. While I sat on the toilet, door wide open (as usual) as he finished the dishes I asked him if he felt like we were playing house. He said he did.

“It just doesn’t feel real. I feel like I’m going to wake up and be back at my old house.”

For him it feels a little more real though than what I describe, he admitted. He had to move away from his old home. A place he had been all his life and travel to another state. I didn’t. I’ve been in this house for seven months. I moved in my own stuff. He moved in his. Things just kinda happened around me. I felt somewhat detached from the situation, while somehow still feeling attached to him. Empathizing with the transitions he’s experiencing, but not really feeling the transitions myself.  While he had to move across state lines, I was just coming back to the place I had prepared for us.

Maybe that’s why it doesn’t feel like it’s that big a deal? Because while he was starting a new adventure, somehow, subtly, I had already crossed the threshold. It all felt really normal to me. Like this was how it was supposed to be. No big sense of feeling or emotion attached to it, just….it happening. Finally happening. Even still, you would think I would have this big sense of emotion, or relief. Not to say there is none though. Every so often I find myself looking at my husband and saying “I don’t have to send you back. You get to stay here.” With those big blue eyes of his smiling back at me he’ll nod, affirming my discovery. Though it only twinges at my heart in those moments. It’s not like my heart settles into the fact. It’s almost like it hasn’t quite realized that there is a hat to hang on the hook of that reality.

A friend of mine warned me this would happen. She told me that after it’s all over: the ceremony, the reception, the paperwork, the sex, the honeymoon, you just kind of wonder why people make such a big deal out of it. I guess I’m one of those people. The next natural step is just that….the next step. Maybe that’s why people have the parties? Huge ceremonious extravaganzas that make things a big deal, because innately, it really isn’t that big of a deal. They want to experience something. A feeling. An excitement. Something that pushes them over the edge of being a couple to being a married couple. I can get that. I can respect that too. I just wasn’t the kind of person who really needed it, because the work I put into my wedding really didn’t do anything to give me a sense of what was really going to happen. Which was just the happening part. The slight adjustment to the new normal. Which doesn’t really feel like much. The love is the same. The life part doesn’t change much either. You just kinda, move in and get things rolling.

Busy Week

I’ve been out with people nearly every night this week. Which is odd for me. As an introvert I’m almost always isolating myself to give me plenty of time to recharge, especially since I work in customer service and spend … Continue reading

Photos

The biggest talent I feel a photographer must have, is being at the right place at the right moment when life is happening. Which is a hard talent to master, and definitely requires you to be out, about, and prospecting critically what life moments one is meant to capture. Things I have not been able to do for a long time. 

As I’m sitting here waiting for my camera battery to charge I’m trying to recall the last time I actually picked up my own camera and took photos for my own use. It was nearly two years ago. I took pictures of Door County Wisconsin. My mom and I drove up there for the fall colors. It was the day I put my first cat Oliver down. 

I hadn’t picked up a camera since. Though I had plenty of opportunity and reason to. Now here I am, waiting for a battery to charge and a moment to capture. 

I’m hanging out with the young adult ministry today. We meet on Mondays at 7pm at our church and hang out reading through the book of John. It’s been a really inspiring time and I’ve had lots of fun with them. They’re less subdued than other Christian groups I’ve been in. We swear. We talk openly and vulnerably. We are human and know it. Aware of the changing dynamic of our church, faith, and understanding. 

Since they’re becoming a greater part of my life and my attitude towards church and faith is changing, I’m finding that I want to capture moments with these people. I want to be involved in their lives. I want to do things with them. I want to take pictures of them doing life with me. It’s been too long since I’ve been with people whom I actually wanted to capture moments with since I moved back from Illinois and left my college friends behind.  It’s been even longer since I used my Nikon to do it. 

House Hunt

“Honestly Em, you can legitimately live in that house for the same amount you’re living in your apartment.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.” 

I thought about it for days already. The place was cute. In a quiet neighborhood with lots of families living on that street. The upstairs wasn’t finished, but it wasn’t hard to finish it up. Just new flooring through all of it, 4 sheets of drywall, a tub, and some paint. Good as new. Could make it completely my own. It had a tiny yard. Perfect. I could probably cut that lawn with a scissors in 3 hours. The yard was shared with the firehouse. That would be great for insurance. Plus asking price was wayyyy under $50,000. 

“I’ll have him take a look at it.” 

My boyfriend and I have been talking marriage for almost 9 months now. His insecurity with moving to Wisconsin had mainly been the big question: “Where are we going to live?” I had intended for the house hunt to happen with both of us present for most of it. But I knew that wasn’t going to happen. Not right now. It was too difficult for him to get over here. Too much hassle with work and obligations for him to see places in the flesh. I just happened to be anticipating my lease being up in October, and I was sick of renting. So I started looking for places to live. Something fairly small. When this two flat popped up I was interested. It had one of those curved roof lines. Brand new roofing too. I wanted to see it in person. 

The realtor who was selling it was a member of my church. My parents and I asked to set up a viewing. My dad is a Contractor and a licensed Inspector. We did a walk through. I fell in love with the first floor and saw so many possibilities with the unfinished second floor. I had dreams about this house. I told my boyfriend about it when I got home. I talked to my financial people about my options. I talked to my aunt about real estate stuff…most of which I didn’t know much about at all. We figured it all out. Set up a plan. 

Now I just gotta get him to see it and see how he likes it. 

Responsible Party

I don’t hate police officers. I’m afraid of them though. I’m not really what one would consider a minority, I’m a white female so I understand at least a little where I have privilege (though I’ll admit there is much … Continue reading