Copyright Christa

Embracing the Mystery

2009-08-30T00:59:00.003-05:00

I originally set out to have this blog be "Pursuing a Relationship, Part II," and elucidate on all the ways I've learned how to better relate to God in the past year or so.

Truth is, I'm not really sure I know any better.

The idea that little Christa Kenyon could mentally wonder part-time for a year or two and discover the equation for relationship with God is so bogus. I still have so many questions. Why? Why do I feel like reading my Bible some days and not others? Why do consistent actions get me inconsistent results? Is it okay to just obey God even when I feel distant on the inside or do I need to fight for an intimacy feeling? Does prayer really work? How often do people see the results of it? Does our level of faith in God affect how our prayers are answered? Do I think God is more present during late-night worship because I'm tired? Is the reason I cry at 11pm worship and not 11am worship because I'm tired and not because God's presence is stronger?!? Why is it easy to obey God in some areas but not others? How does the Holy Spirit talk to me? How in the world do we hear the voice of God? What does that even mean? How do I decide what kind of ministry to do? Is it simply what I prefer or do I do what my mentor says? Do burning bushes happen any more? Why do I feel closer to God in physical settings like nature? How do I reshape my interests into God's interests? Fake it and hope the make it part comes along one day?

Then, the more I think about it, the more I realize I don't know a lot of things.
Where does my personality come from? Why do I like pink more than purple? How it is possible to have a God that is three separate beings, yet the same God? How come I'm attracted to certain people and not others? What the heck is love and am I doing it right? How does marriage work? How does baptism work? How do you raise children? How can I be capable of forgiving people that have wronged me? How do I pick what to do with my life?

Unfortunately (and this is what people have tried to tell me all along), it's not a science. I can't put these things in equation form and expect to hammer them down and write a book with all the answers. The truth is that my human, logical, idea-driven brain can't really wrap itself around these ideas.

What do I know? It takes time. It's a search. It's obedience above emotions. It's willingness to be humiliated for the sake of growth. It's smiling and shrugging my shoulders when I don't know the answer. It's extreme gratitude for life's sweet blessings, and tearful determination when something comes along that is not desirable. It's faith, and not really understanding, but knowing that here I have staked my life, and it is upon this rock that I will die.

Broken

2009-07-11T22:21:00.002-05:00

It’s so sweetly tragic and ironic how fast I can fall from cloud nine.

Skipping through life, laughing and joining in, feeling treasured and carefree. Then something happens, and the full-length mirror is held up to me, and I get to stop and see the gross parts of myself. It doesn’t matter that it’s gentle, it hurts, and my humanness wants to recoil.

I want to react. I want to excuse away why I do what I do. I want to defend myself. I want to point out the things I do that are good. I want to remind people that they fail too. I want to say that it’s none of your business what I do, and that it doesn’t matter because I’m so much better than most people.

Then it just stings, because I realize it’s true. It’s true that I mess up. It’s true that I break my word. It’s true that I hurt people’s feelings. It’s true that I give up on things. It’s true that I am selfish. Then I realize I can’t snap my fingers and make it go away. My worldly anger turns into righteous sorrow, and I am merely defeated, ashamed, ready to give up and go hide forever, away from light.

And then, in that moment, with the snot and mascara running down my face, feeling stripped and ugly of spirit, I feel a touch. Gentle, like soft rain and puppy fur, it touches my soul and I can breathe deeply in the sweet whispered assurance that God is with me. That touch does not dismiss my problems and failures, actually it doesn’t fix anything. But I am reminded, that if I am willing, I can have all of his strength to work on those problems. The grace of God renders me capable of greater kindness and fortitude. Without it I am merely a human, young and foolish. With it, I am still just a young and foolish girl, but I do know there is something stronger than myself to which I can cling, something that will shape me, in pain and in happiness, into a more holy young woman.

Even as I write these last lines, I feel my heart turning within me. I know what is right, and I will be damned if it is merely my pride and tears which carry me away from doing it.

In Gratitude

2009-05-12T23:45:00.003-05:00

It is a blissful thing to be part of a group.

To know the ebb and flow that comes with personalities meshing and clashing, the strength and struggle in reaching a decision as a whole.
To have people join you in the heartache and hopefulness that is working through a job you're not sure how to do.
To laugh in amusement when you begin to realize each person has their own way to grow and work through problems, and it's not the way you would do it.
To sigh in disappointment and then smile with relief when you recognize someone else has stepped in where you have fallen short.
To be aggravated with those who are different, then grow to appreciate and love that they can do so many things better than you can.
To be challenged, broken, shown your faults, then built back up again in a more complete way.
To truly understand that together, in community, as individuals working in unison, as brothers and sisters, we represent the body of Christ.

To those of you who were part of that group that I spent my Tuesday nights with this year, thank you. I have been challenged, and gotten mad, and been taught, and enjoyed myself greatly.

To anyone else reading, know that being a part of something like this is a blessing you should not lightly choose to forgo.

A Love Letter

2009-04-07T00:51:00.001-05:00

Dear Sir,

Do you know that Paris is a morgue without you? Be not alarmed, I am well, and my days are replete with nature and art and thought, but it seems I have overestimated my capacity to enjoy such infinite beauty and history. Such things fill me to excess with joy and light and emotion, but no one is here to catch the overflow of my heart in its exuberance. I am choking here in myself, without you.

Instead, I once again match pen with paper and create for you a poor reflection of my heart’s secrets. I will bring my thoughts to life, give them form and structure, for your consideration. In your solitude you may draw upon the things I have told you and the words I write you.

This recent turn of events finds me reflecting upon your character. In the midst of my musings and reminiscence, I pull my gaze from my window to smile quietly at myself, at the blush that comes with your memory. Who you are exists in the posture you exhibit to the world, to specific people therein, a posture of righteousness and sacrifice. You involve yourself with our world, you interact with science and nature and mystery and humanity, hesitating only to consider the consequences of your intended actions. You are stability and discipline. You are wisdom and cunning. As the ways in which I see into your soul grow, I recognize that which is truly valuable within you. You are marked by the merits of honor, trust, and the dedication to finding the best course of action in every situation.

I ponder this thing into which you have induced me. I am sure I know not the complexities and breadth of this assurance I give you. Yet this perfect morning finds me grasping with all my being the hope that we will reach the end of our days with fortitude and compassion, successful in the goals we create for ourselves. Together, our two hearts can give more to the world than they ever could alone. When you weaken, I will stand for you. When I am overcome, you will take my hand and lead. When you grow discouraged, I will show you how to continue. When I am unsure about my purpose, you will tell me again who I am. Together, we have more strengths to offer the world, more grace, more counsel, more wisdom in addressing the shortfalls of society, more inspiration in bringing about benevolence between mankind.

And this represents your opinion as well. It brings me delight and anticipation to realize you want me to join you, to be with you, to occupy with you the unfamiliar depths of the soul. May I express to you how much easier this makes staying strong? I thank you for wanting me, for wanting to elicit the ways in which I can bless you.

Yet I will not lie. You have caused me pain. You sought out the parts within me that were not perfect and lovely, and you invited change. With your guidance I have become much more than I ever was. I have faced my childish ways, and widened my heart to encompass acts of compassion and mercy, a character of nobility and fortitude. This has been my path as directed by you. I hope it brings a smile to your lips when I remind you that this was not easy. In your arms I fear nothing except the selfishness within me, which I know you will cause me to leave behind as years pass.

Everything within you calls forth all that is within me, and I ache with desire to conquer life with you, by your side, as your lover, confidante, and most faithful champion.

As I gaze down on the ring that now binds me to you, I realize you have loved me, in your words, in your actions, in the way you desire my betterment. I am overcome, and my spirit is resolute within me to love you. May you never doubt this promise.

You have all my respect for all my eternity.

The Ebb and Flow of the Greatest Mystery

2009-02-26T20:18:00.003-06:00

Oh to that thing which so many have fought for, died for, cried for, changed plans for, compromised for, sung about, written about, received great purpose from, and sought with all their being.

That thing that enables a woman to get up every day for eighteen years and live in service of a child, cleaning, holding, structuring her life around his.

The thing with which two people will bind themselves together for eternity, leaving behind differences, seeking something greater than themselves.

That thing that has inspired countless songs, endless literature and instruction and explanation and description, and occupies the minds and hearts of so many who are searching.

The thing that keeps the friend at the hospital bedside and in the examination room, not fleeing the discomfort and decay, but holding on to hope and unspoken promises.

The thing that made the man continue through town and out of the city, carrying on his back his means of execution.

Does it come from God? Is it something that we pray for and expect to receive in a certain measure? Is it something we grow within ourselves for others? Is it something we are taught through example? Is it something that must be practiced or is it just the natural reaction of the heart? Is it something we will ourselves to possess for all time or will it change with our life circumstances? It is something our appearances and emotions affect? Is there a limited amount of it floating around in the atmosphere for us to grab onto? Or do we simply not know how to embody it enough? Is this something you must ponder and search for or is the uneducated soul perfectly equipped for its expression?

The Bible illustrates it in detail. Ten thousand books in the self-help section describe it. Wikipedia defines it. Dictionary.com gives it 28 definitions. Valentine’s Day labels it one thing, serving at a homeless shelter will show you it’s another. Surging hormones make you think it’s one thing, daily sacrifice will show you it’s another. A life of ease makes it easy to do, but trial and suffering will make you prove you really have it.

They say chocolate induces it. And flowers and poetry. And carbon atoms which have been compressed for years and years.

But wait, I’ve heard this story before. Actually, I’ve heard it a couple of times. Boy meets girl. Boy and girl flirt and get along. They go with the flow, and subscribe to couplehood, and go through all the motions together. They talk about how they met, how much they like each other, how they’re alike, how their future would go. They engage in the activities, cuddling, movie-watching, hand-holding, the kissing, thinking and daydreaming about one another.

But the chocolate didn’t work. The equation didn’t stick, and whatever period of time down the road they find themselves upset, recognizing the faults of their partner, sad for the loss of the previous intensity, ultimately realizing that which is reality and how they are actually tasting it for the first time.

It’s too complicated to continue, so they struggle and call it quits. They seek solace in the arms of their friends, their gods, and their vices. They work themselves back to completeness, pining terribly for the lost rush of emotions, determined that next time, they will do the same thing, only better.

This doesn’t have staying power. It’s not even a very stable foundation upon which to build anything concrete. It’s not what Jesus did. Surely this is not the love that everyone is looking for.

Surely this is not the love that everyone is looking for.

Narrative of a Day - Jury Duty

2008-07-15T00:01:00.003-05:00

I was excited. I caught the 7:37am to the ITC station in downtown Fort Worth. I studied the bus routes and flashed my bus pass like I’d done it a thousand times. I joined the crowd walking to work in the mild coolness that is 8am during a Texas summer. There I was, little miss independent, in my corporate getup, proudly wearing my would-be juror identification badge, on my way to try something new, to join something bigger than myself. I felt very grown-up.

Ushered through metal detectors and juror selection check-in, I sat in a bench on the 7th floor for three hours before lining up and surrendering my courtroom pass to the bailiff.

The room was icy cold, maybe so people would stay awake, maybe so we would all more acutely feel the gravity of the situation, maybe so we would all want to get things over and get out as soon as possible. The judge was strict, the attorneys slick, and the defendant was scared. I could see it in his eyes.

The suave prosecuting attorney was explaining laws and asking questions. Voir dire for those of you who know. He talked to people about their pasts. He probed for biases. I kept thinking about the movie Runaway Jury and almost bursting into a big smile. I wondered if there were cameras somewhere in the room watching my every move, trying to see if I was crazy, or pro-victim, or a stickler for maximum sentences. It felt like a joke, a dream from which I would eventually wake.

But the minutes ticked silently by, and there were no jokes.

And I sat there in the cold, looking into his eyes. He barely looked older than me. He was being accused of this and that with a deadly weapon, penalized with up to life in jail. I'm not really sure what I was feeling. Not pity. Not contempt. Astonishment perhaps. I couldn’t believe I was actually sitting there. I was on unfamiliar emotional ground. I realized that I might have the chance to judge this young man’s actions. His future would be in my hands. I could send him to jail for the rest of his life. Me! Little 20 year old me who was more concerned with what to wear than morning than how I was going to think and act.

The minutes ticked by, and two seconds turned into two hours. And then I wasn’t chosen for the jury.

Who knows why. I didn’t voice any weird opinions (for once). I wasn’t acting like a playful 5 year-old. There was nothing in my past that would have affected my ability to judge the particulars of this case. Maybe I was too young. Maybe I didn’t have quite enough college under my belt. Maybe they thought young people are risks. I guess they’re probably right.

Somewhat relieved, I filed out of the pretty glass and metal standard government-issue building. Breathing the air outside was like breathing for the first time. I found my appropriate bus stop. I had an abbreviated conversation with the corner hot dog vendor while I waited for the the 1:37 train back to my Hurst/Bell station, ready to continue my life. I climbed to the second level of the train and sat next to an old policeman eating pretzels out of a ziplock baggie and solving a sodoku. He told me I was a good girl when I turned my phone back on and called my dad to say I was headed home. I looked out the window and thought about my life. I realized I have it easy. I discovered how much I absolutely love public transportation. I thought about how much I hate it when housing developments have no trees because the builders wipe them out so they won’t have to build around them. I texted my friend who was leaving for Mexico that afternoon. I was back in my world. My little stint in the business/legal/official/grown up world was over.

But for the individuals still in the courtroom, the story was just starting.

Post Script: I know many people who think jury duty is gross and bothersome. And maybe it is. But it is the way our justice system functions, and the way by which we will be judged were we to commit a crime. And if the system is corrupt, then all the more reason for honorable rational individuals (like most of us) to involve ourselves with the institution. In the same way that we do not give up on the modern church, even though it can be incredibly corrupt and misleading and humanistic, we should not abandon this system. A component of combating society’s problems is for individuals who are capable of wisdom and mercy to choose to walk out their lives with honesty, valor, and sacrifice, involving themselves with the people and in the institutions that most need redeeming.

My Freedom. (In Practice.)

2008-02-27T14:31:00.005-06:00

So what is the result of realizing God is real and alive and true and powerful and that his plan is better? What does it look like to stop worrying about life and pursue true freedom by only "worrying" about the things of God?

I think this realization can have influence over every area of life, but there are a few of mine that have been gently changed even since the beginning of this year.

The first is worship - my worship before God, on Sunday mornings, nights, in my room, whenever. I'm ashamed to say this area of my life is mostly defined by those around me rather than by God. But what does God want? I believe he wants my heart's reaction to his love, whatever that may look like. I've been taking some pretty cool steps in growing and expanding the scope of my adoration of God, and each of those steps involves a little sacrifice, a little risk, and a little boldness.

Another area is in my relationship with my parents. I'm working on letting them (each in their respective ways) see more of the young woman I am becoming - more specifically, the development and growth of my faith and how that's influencing how I think. That's scary. These are two of the people I love the most, and want most to approve of me. Now for the first time I'm discovering what I think about life and faith, and the reality is that it will probably look different from what they think. But ultimately, it's not about what they think, it's about what God thinks. I believe he wants me to seek him above what any person on earth tells me.

A third area is the way I relate to people. In a nutshell, I'm trying to relate to people on God's terms, with his heart, his love, seeking the best for them, and not being out to protect or defend myself or "my rights" in a relationship. (Although there is a point when one becomes too open/vulnerable and that extreme isn't healthy either.) I'm seeking to show unconditional friendship - being willing to relate to someone, love them, give them value regardless of what they do or how they treat me, being willing to talk to anyone, looking past stereotypes, not evaluating people based on what I can get from them, celebrating with others and not being jealous of good things that happen to others. Dating/marriage is an extension of this area, but I think I might have enough to say about that to fill a whole blogging kingdom.

Jesus chose love over coercive power in his posture toward humanity, and I'm trying to emulate him in that. I've been praying to be able to love people as God loves them, and while I'm nowhere near this, I've seen myself grow. God is answering my prayer!! I think I will become more capable of unconditional love as I experience more and more of God and his unconditional love for me. The result of knowing God is in control and has my back is that I'm just free to love people, period.

These are areas of my life where I used to/still do look around me to determine how to go about doing certain activities, places where I look to see what is normal and expected. But God is slowly leading me out of that. Furthermore, I don't actually want to be normal. I want to be set apart. I want to worship the Lord with my all, seek him above people like my parents or friends, and love the people in this world just like he does. None of those things is the current status quo. Why then do I keep looking to things around me for guidance in those areas? Why should human standards define things for me? Ultimately, I don't want external factors to decide who I am, where I'm going, and what that looks like. I have to bring those questions to God.

I've been extremely independent my whole life, but most of that came out of a rebellious heart. I think now I'm learning about healthy independence, the kind that comes (ironically enough) as I learn to be completely dependent on the Lord.

My Freedom. (In Theory.)

2008-02-13T17:37:00.003-06:00

During my senior year of English in high school, I studied the concept of literary analysis, which is distinguishing the different pieces in a literary work and determining how they relate to each other. The other day when we were discussing chapter 11 of The Jesus I Never Knew, I was hit by how much Jesus’ disciples changed after they saw him post-resurrection, and how that event was really a pivot point around which the disciples' behavior turns. “The 11 men who had deserted him at death now went to martyrs’ graves avowing their faith in a resurrected Christ.” Obviously something big caused them to change their intentions and plans for their futures.

One visible result of this change was that they really no longer cared what the world thought of them; so much so that they chose to die instead of relinquish that in which they believed. Do you think it was at this point in their lives when they experienced true freedom? Not physical freedom, because, obviously, this chain of events led them to their deaths. But a freedom to walk boldly in what they believed?

What would happen if we could grasp this freedom? If we really “got it,” if we really understood that the most powerful being in the universe not only died for us, but rose from the dead, would that change how we live? In a sense, if we were given the disciples’ chance to react to the resurrection, what would happen?

I think I would stop worrying.

How am I going to pay for the rest of college? What am I going to do when the car I’m currently driving breaks down? Who am I going to live with next year? Am I going to get married? How should I go about that process? What if my friends get scared away by the ideas I have about faith? How is the boy checking my ID at the AC going to react if I make a comment about the book he’s reading? What if my communications professor is offended by the spiritual examples I write about on my exam? What if my advice to my friend isn’t really something she wants to hear so she gets upset? What if my father thinks I’ve gone off the deep end? What if those in spiritual leadership over me think I’m nuts? What if following God means giving up material comfort or living in a hut somewhere in Africa? What if he calls me to be single? What if following God means never having free time again?

I think I would stop worrying, because all this stuff DOESN’T MATTER.

I KNOW WHO I AM. I KNOW WHERE I’M GOING. I should have enough faith in my God to trust that he will take care of me in the interim. Ultimately, his plan for me will be much better than my plan for me.

If only I could step out and live as if I truly believed that. I would be so free. I would not be afraid of fear, of rejection. I wouldn’t be hindered by the ways others discourage me. I would be capable of walking through life without worrying about myself, or my situation.

There’s a Newsboys song with a line that I love: “It’s God’s safe harbor, why play it safe?” God has already bought us, and won the battle, and secured our futures. We have nothing to fear in this area. Why do we still “play it safe”? It’s his harbor we’re sailing around in. We have nothing important to lose. He’s got it under control. He is big enough, strong enough, wise enough, faithful enough, compassionate enough to take care of us. We don’t need to worry about ourselves. We have nothing to lose by pursuing his example with all of our being.

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“Lord, you have assigned me my portion and my cup; you have made my lot secure. The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; surely I have a delightful inheritance. I will praise the Lord, who counsels me; even at night my heart instructs me.” (Psalm 16:5-7)

Suffering. Freedom. Desire.

2008-02-06T21:01:00.000-06:00

At one point in core the other night, we answered the question, “If you were not a Christian, hadn’t grown up in church, hadn’t had spiritual influences or anything, would you believe God is a fair and good God just by looking at the world?” There were different answers, but one that was fairly common was no, I wouldn’t see God as being good. There is far too much suffering, and too many innocent people hurting, and natural disasters that wipe out thousands that were merely going about their days. If God was out there and real, he wouldn’t let these things happen.

I was one who voiced this opinion. The thing that makes me the absolute maddest is when I watch little three-year-olds and I see how poorly their parents treat them. Who are these little precious loving boys and girls that they deserve this? Parents were put on the earth to love, to nurture, to provide for their children’s wellbeing, and when I watch the opposite of that happening, it makes me want to explode. Of course little kids can be difficult, but they deserve nothing but love. How could I have a God who would let millions of children go through their young life abandoned, neglected, and unloved?

And then in our discussion, there were several of us who came around and stated something like, well now that I’ve read the scriptures, and learned about God, and been in a Christian community, I realize that God is good. That he is a fair and just God. And I said this too.

But why do our beliefs change like this? Obviously the state of the world hasn’t changed, necessarily, since our first opinion (i.e. children still suffer, innocent people still get diseases, etc). It’s still bad. There’s still suffering. So why do we switch? What happens in that interim? What do we read/realize/know/perceive/discover that leads us to think differently about God?

Where is the “cause” of the “effect” that we now believe God to be a fair, just, good God?

That was spinning through my head during core, and I couldn’t answer it. The only thing I could think of was that God doesn’t force himself. He has power, yes, and strength, and the ability to save. But they are never forced on anyone.

Philip Yancey speaks a little of this in The Jesus I Never Knew, in chapter 4. He says Satan’s power is external and coercive. God’s power is internal and noncoercive. In its commitment to transform gently from the inside out and in its relentless dependence on human choice, God’s power may resemble a kind of abdication. God made himself weak for one purpose: to let human beings choose freely for themselves what to do with him.

I think that makes sense. Our savior didn’t come as a rich, reigning, dictating emperor-king, he came as a peasant, a carpenter, a fisherman-figure. Our savior didn’t come to force us to believe in him, he came, and in some ways, he was not very imposing. I guess he wanted us to have to choose him 100%, with no worldly influences, with all our hearts.

I think some of it boils down to the issue of desire. God wants a response from us because we want to, we desire to answer his call.

Yancey brought up the issue of communism. Christianity and communism have many of the same ideals: equality, sharing, justice, and racial harmony. Yet the Marxist pursuit of that vision had produced the worst nightmares the world has ever seen, he said. Why? Because you can’t force morality. The part that made it not work is that the people didn’t want it. Christians, (for the most part) embrace and want this idea of community, so it has a better track record. Rape, for example, is not that much different, in action, from normal sex. The part that makes it so terrible is that it’s not wanted. And God is not a dictator or a rapist, so it’s not so much God “sitting on his hands” as much as it is God not forcing himself in our earthly realm.

In Yancey’s words, preserving the free will of a notoriously flawed species seemed worth the cost of letting the earth be inhabited by evildoers, of waiting to restore the earth to perfection, of watching as things like the Crusades and the Holocaust happen, of seeing hurricanes and tsunamis destroy nations, of allowing a gigantic apocalypse to loom ever in our futures. If we are to be free, this is how it’s going to be. Evil running rampant is part of the freedom package.

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I don’t really know. This was just something I thought of trying to answer my own question. Something like God can’t step in and make life perfect, because then we would be compelled to believe in him because of that. And he wants us to choose him no strings attached – to choose him independent of wealth and power and freedom from suffering.

That still doesn’t really satisfy my curiosity. Why again are so many children starving and neglected? Why do thousands of people who are out fishing to earn their day’s wages suddenly drown? How do we attempt to explain this and answer those who ask us this? What do I say?

Romantic Adventure: Based on a True Story

2008-01-28T03:40:00.000-06:00

So I’m getting into the incredibly bad habit of drinking coffee at midnight and then being wired for about 4 hours before I crash and get about half a night’s sleep before a full school day. Bad idea. Oddly enough though I do some of my best work during those hours.

I was reading Ryan’s blog a few minutes ago, and something he said made my fried mind think twice. He said he had considered Christianity to be a romantic adventure.

He’s right.

Has anyone else heard the story of that far away land where there is a beautiful princess and a really bad guy and he lays siege to the kingdom and all sorts of evil things are happening and a really brave courageous prince comes riding in and fights to win the kingdom back and restores peace in all the land and falls in love with the princess and they reign for years and years in prosperity and triumph and wisdom? (hmm not sure if Ryan would have gone that far… )

But actually this life is an adventure. There’s a big battle going on all around us. I think deep down many of us have the desire to be part of an adventure in life, to do something big, to join a cause, a war, a campaign, and truly come alive as we fight for it. Christianity is such an amazing example of this:

First, there is a kingdom. It’s the kingdom of God. It can exist in the heart of every person. Next, there is an incredibly powerful bad guy named Satan who wants nothing more than to see this kingdom destroyed. He kills, assaults, maims, devours, and destroys. He is real. He has an army of soldiers – demons. However, the good guy, God, is ultimately much stronger than the bad guy. He has unlimited wisdom and strength and resources. He calls us to join him. To take up our crosses, and put on his armor and join him in the greatest battle of all time. This battle transcends this temporary life. The war is real. The results, either glorious or devastating, are eternal.

There’s a quote from Captivating that I love: Your life is a love story set in the midst of a life-and-death battle. Jesus fights on your behalf and on behalf of those you love. He asks you to join him.

Damn straight. This isn’t a joke. This isn’t fake. This isn’t some game we play.

Our enemy is real. Remember Eddie’s stories at camp? He was attacked. Not the type of attack where you wake up one morning and you’re tired of going to college (which is fixing to be in about 5 hours for me lol), the type of attack where you wake up and watch as everything in your life is taken from you. It takes a powerful enemy to do that.

I was thinking one night about the whole “reaching out to people” thing, when I realized something. No matter how much I attempt to influence people on this campus, to study the Bible with them, to have a positive and uplifting effect, to hang out and show them God’s love, there always seem to be ten or twenty or thirty more people in their life who are waiting to do the exact opposite!! People who want to lead them away from Christ, who want to influence them for ulterior motives, who want to lead them into sin and immorality. (To say nothing of TV or the media or society in general.)

At first, this was just really depressing. Then I was plain furious. How are we expected to fight when the odds are so overwhelmingly not in our favor?!! “It’s not fair God!” My heart cried out, “You should make the playing field even for us.”

Unfortunately, arguing with God doesn’t usually get very far. And this blog wasn’t supposed to be depressing, it was supposed to be about how neat it is that we can participate in a real adventure, so let me try again:

We are needed. The battle is real. What we do matters, and there is much to be done. The hour is late (literally at this point haha). This life is a chapter in the ultimate, true-story fairy tale of an amazing good God and the courageous princes and princesses who receive from him the strength to pick up a sword and follow him in rescuing a kingdom and defeating a terrible enemy.

Susceptible to physical or emotional injury; capable of being wounded

2008-01-23T04:28:00.000-06:00

Why does life hurt so much sometimes? Why do I sigh in heartache when my ideas and wishes and desires that I share get stepped on?

Anytime I invite someone to be a part of my life, I am taking a risk. A risk that he or she may say no, that my gesture may not get returned, that my invitation may be rejected, that my love may not be reciprocated. One of the scarier things I’ve done recently is reaching out to freshman at the beginning of the school year, offering to be their friend and help them get to know our school. I’m going out on a limb and I have no idea how they’ll respond to this.

Being vulnerable is handing your heart to someone and taking the risk that they will hand it back because they don’t want it. When we love, we give the other person the power in the relationship. They can do what they like with our love. When we love, we put ourselves out there, we expose ourselves, we allow ourselves to be vulnerable. Love is giving up control. It’s surrendering the desire to control the other person. If we are serious about loving someone, we must surrender our wish to manipulate the relationship.

Vulnerability is hard. Scary. Lonely sometimes. Jesus is the ultimate example of this.

Jesus is God being vulnerable. Naked, wounded, and hanging on a cross, asking the question, “What will you do with me? Will you accept me or reject me?” It’s God making the first move and then waiting for our response. It’s God holding his hand out and then waiting to see if we will take it or laugh at it.

In the most stunning act of love and self-sacrifice and vulnerability, our Lord hung on the cross, offering his everything to people who had a track record of hating him.

I don’t think he thought everyone would accept his offer of life and love. There have been many people dedicated to God throughout the years, but there have been many more people who ultimately, completely, absolutely rejected Jesus. But the fact that some people would reject him didn’t stop him from offering to everyone, knowing there would be some who would accept him.

This is incredible. Could it be that we are called to be ready to offer ourselves, our friendship, our love to the entire world? Not just the people we know will reciprocate it? Again, this is super scary. But we’re not alone in this.

If you have ever had your heart broken by someone, you know how God feels. If you have ever given yourself to someone and found yourself waiting for their response, exposed and vulnerable, left hanging in the balance, you know how God feels. If you have ever given yourself to someone and they responded, they reciprocated with a love of their own, you know how God feels. Why? Because this is exactly what God does for us!

The cross is God’s way of saying, “I know what it’s like – I know how you feel.” The cross is God taking on flesh and blood and saying, “Me too.” You see, we have a God who knows what being vulnerable feels like, who knows what taking a risk in loving someone is like. God chooses to be vulnerable to us. Love is risky for God too. But he keeps going, keeps offering, keeps loving, keeps risking. And if God can continue to risk, then maybe we can too.

I especially believe this is important for women in today’s world.

The classic novel A Tale of Two Cities creates a beautiful beautiful portrait of a young lady who treats the valueless, fallen men in her life with compassion and love, opening her heart to them, believing in them instead of belittling them, recalling them to lives of purpose and strength. The story ultimately revolves around a worthless bum who is the unsuspecting recipient of this girl’s love and mercy, and how his heart is so changed by her actions that at the novel’s end, we find him forging an incredible, sacrificial plan to provide for the young woman’s wellbeing by nobly, heroically giving up his own life.

Never have such little black words printed tiny on the musty page made me cry so much. How can I be this type of woman? How can I live my life after the pattern of my Lord, taking risks in love and choosing to be vulnerable and inviting and loving to the people of this world that no one else will even look at?

A man reflects the strength, the wildness, the protection offered by a mighty God. But a woman is meant to be the incarnation of the part of God that is beautiful, captivating, inviting, lovely, relational, merciful, tender. And vulnerable.

A woman who unveils her beauty and love and friendship is inviting others to life. She risks being vulnerable – showing her true heart and inviting others to share theirs. She is not demanding, but she is hopeful. Her beauty is a glimpse into the heart of God.

You see, ultimately a woman invites us to know God. To experience through her that God is merciful. That he is tender and kind. That God longs for us – to be known by us and to know us. She invites us to experience that God is good, deep, lovely, alluring, and captivating.

Of course this is not easy. To offer and be selfless and to take a chance in loving those who may not reciprocate is hard. Once again, we have a God who understands this and sympathizes with us.

Jesus offered like no other, and many many rejected him. In those moments or seasons when vulnerability hurts, God’s invitation is to bring our sorrow to him. Not to shut down with, “I’ll never try that again.” But to keep our hearts open and alive, and find refuge and healing in his love. Ultimately, that’s the only way we’ll succeed in being vulnerable to the world.

(Many ideas and text from this post were borrowed from Chapter 8 of Captivating, by John and Stasi Eldredge, and Chapter 5 of Sex God, by Rob Bell. Many thanks to these authors who are much more skilled than I.)

Special Intel Report No. 558b

2008-01-07T22:58:00.000-06:00

INTERNAL, Security Level 5 Clearance Required
EYES ONLY

This top secret report will summarize the plans and procedures as regards the organization Alpha Beta Fun.

Mission Objective: to engage the populace of UTD in fun-filled ways at various relationship-promoting venues,

Agents on Task: Bill Rohleder, Josh Mello, Jamie Smith, Eric Anderson, Christa Kenyon, Amanda Roese, Charlie Martin

Collaborators: Hayley Tiefenthaler, Travis Jones,

Additional Info: alphabetafun@gmail.com, 817.995.9879, utdallas.facebook.com/group.php?gid=6199351355, utdallas.edu/student/dev/orgguide/

Mission Procedures:
1. Pictionary Tournament and Game Night. A group-centered Pictionary play-off, and various other games, complete with snacks. Location: Galaxy Room. Equipment Necessary: Games and food. Estimated Time of Completion: Wednesday, February 6th, 7pm to 10pm, pending confirmation of reservation details. Status: Terminated.

2. Soccer Play-day. A semi-competitive afternoon of soccer and other field games, outfitted with refreshments and sustenance. Location: Intramural Fields. Equipment Necessary: Soccer gear, table, water cooler and food. Estimated Time of Completion: Saturday, January 26th, 2pm to 4 pm, pending confirmation of reservation details. Status: a smashing success.

3. Swing Dance Workshop. An instructive and free-style period of swing dancing. Location: Activity Center Auxiliary Room. Equipment Necessary: Nametags, audio equipment, playlist, instructors. Estimated Time of Completion: February 23rd, pm. Status: T minus 3 weeks.

4. Cookies at the Pool. Status: Pending warmer weather.

5. Night at the Rangers Game. Status: Pending additional information.

Mission Funding: Through Student Organization Forum (SOF) Requests for Funds and subsequent reimbursement,

Mission Communication: Agents and Collaborators will formulate best outline to involve people from other organizations and at random, and to generate spirit, and to inform others of events happening,

Mission Requirements: SOF Meetings, subsequent planning for engaging events.

Pursuing a Relationship. Part 1

2008-01-01T20:56:00.000-06:00

One of my bestest friends and I met as seventh graders. That was a long time ago. I think our friendship broke the mold. Of course, spending massive amounts of time around each other didn’t hurt. We played little junior high basketball together. We were in class together all throughout high school. We both were on our high school newspaper staff. We worked at each other’s jobs. We went roadtriping to scary places in west Texas (hm good story there). Our friendship was fun, it was deep, it was sincere, and it was significant.

Then a year and a half ago we went to different colleges. And that was weird. Being together wasn’t easy anymore. We each had busy lives in our respective worlds. We didn’t get to talk and hang out and have fun and cry and pray together everyday. We definitely had to drive more than ten minutes to see each other.

But I love her.

So I do my best to keep her in my life. We do phone calls, and emails, we hang out when we’re in the same town. A couple of times we’ve just packed a bag and gotten lost for a weekend (not literally of course, but almost… west Texas is pretty big). I know what’s going on with her, and she knows what’s going on with me. Spending time with her is something I now have to protect.

Now think about someone you love. Someone you truly love.

Even when life gets full, we make time for those people, don’t we? We’re so busy, but that never keeps us from hanging out. Or when I have a date (hypothetically speaking of course since all boys are gross... jk), I make time for that. I write it down in my calendar to make sure I won’t forget it. I look forward to it (provided that the gentleman in question is perfect in every way... haha) and plan what I’m going to wear and say and do, etc. If someone asks me to do something that Friday, I’ll tell them I’m sorry I can’t because I have plans. Spending time with –insert cliché anonymous male name here– is something I have to protect.

Here’s the kicker – the friendship I can generate with any female or male in this world will ultimately pale in comparison to the companionship my amazing savior can give me.
Haha yet I fail so terribly to protect that friendship. The one that should be my most important friendship usually gets less of me than all of my other friendships.

But I want to change that. I want a passionate blossoming relationship with my lord. That means time. That means work. That means getting up earlier, staying up later, or not taking a nap. That means saying no more often. That means writing it down in my calendar, like I would a date. That means going to the park, or taking a walk, or just going for a drive to get away from things. That means turning off my phone. That means turning the rap music to worship music, or better yet, just turning it off. This means using my energy and resources to pursue my God where he may be found, giving him my best, not the time and brainpower I have left over.

I have a busy life. So does everybody. And that's an excuse to push away our most important friendship with our heavenly father. But you make time for what’s important to you.
And I love him. So I’m going to try my best.

"Miss Christa, he hit me!!"

2007-12-11T22:24:00.000-06:00

My boss is amazing.

I’m back working over Christmas break at the preschool where I spent the summer. It’s such a neat job. I’m in with 12 little three-year-olds and we just play all day long. We go outside, we make crafts, we have naptime and snacktime, we play with play-dough and somehow get it EVERYWHERE, we read stories, we watch Clifford and Veggietales, and we just hang out. Little kids are so loving, and they laugh all day long.

And yet,
My job is hard. No one likes to be told what to do, and little kids are no exception. It takes a whole lot of energy to go each day and be the one in authority, to be the one who punishes, to be the one who says, “No, we don’t treat our friends that way,” to be the administrator of justice when those little human beings come running up to me saying, “Miss Christa, he hit me!” or “Miss Christa, she took my toy!” except I didn’t actually see what happened, to be the one who insists they pick up after themselves when it’s ten times easier to just reach down and do it myself. It’s like ten thousand little battles that I go and fight every day trying to show my kids that I’m in charge and they’re going to do what I say.

Those kids certainly don’t like to be disciplined. But the strange thing is that their parents don’t like that either. For some reason, a large number of my little kid’s parents think their children are perfect. PERFECT. If they hear that I put their child in time-out, they flip out and think there must be something wrong with ME.

And then they call my boss and complain. And this happened recently. One “my child is perfect” parent called in and said some things that weren’t very nice. Now my boss is very discerning and she’s spent the past 3 decades of her life dealing with children and their parents, and after checking out the situation, she realized there wasn’t any truth to what the parent was saying.

But I felt like crap.

I go to work each day and love those little kids and try and teach them the difference between right and wrong, and how they can treat their friends, except it’s like NOBODY wants me to. I went to my boss and told her I didn’t think I was right for this job, and how I felt inadequate, and now this parent has made me feel really bad, and I’m trying to do right by these kids, but that it would be so much easier to give up.
But she
literally took my hand
and said I was wrong.
I’m behind you, Christa. I believe in you. I know this job is hard at times, but you can’t give up. I know you’re not perfect, but I watched you this summer with those kids, and I see how much you love them, I see how they run to you when you walk though the classroom door. Trust me, if I didn’t think that you were 100% right for this job, then you wouldn’t be here.

That makes me feel so much better. It doesn’t make anything easier, but knowing that my boss is my number one fan makes me feel stronger. As long as I’m doing what’s right, I shouldn’t be afraid of her, I should be excited that she’s on my side and she’ll stand up for me.

Suddenly I realized that’s a lot like how God is.

God isn’t a crazy lunatic boss who’s hovering over me with a checklist waiting to jump on my back the moment I mess up. He’s not a taskmaster who gives me more than I can handle so that I’ll fail. God is on MY side. He supports me. He wants to see me do well. As long as I’m doing what’s right, I shouldn’t be afraid of what he’ll do to me, I should be excited about what he’ll do for me.

Being a true radical Christian is hard. It’s not mainstream. It’s not what most people expect. It’s not always what’s easy. It’s this job I have where I’m called to reach out and be a friend to people, to sacrifice my time and interests to help others, to exhibit mercy and grace when I would rather just tell people how annoyed I am with them, to bite my tongue when I want to say something nasty about someone, to speak up about things even when it’s awkward and people won’t think I’m cool.

When the world is discouraging and disappointing, God
figuratively takes my hand
and tells me that it’s going to be okay.
I’m behind you, Christa. I believe in you. I know this job is hard. People are going to call and say mean things about you. People are going to hurt you. Life is going to seem really messed up. But you can’t give up. I want to see you succeed, I want the best for you. I’m not out to get you. I’m on your side. Keep trying, and I’ll be with you.

God is my number one fan. And that's enough for me.