A Letter to Liberty.

Yesterday evening, I was sitting on a couch in the lobby of our church building. Attempting to spend my free hour reading and writing, I read a paragraph before this preteen girl came walking up to me. She chose to ignore my not-so-subtle wish for solitude, instead plopping down next to me and chattering away. As the mostly one-sided conversation continued (I'll give you one guess as to who was doing all the talking), she asked how long I had been attending Liberty Baptist.

"My family's been here for 17 years this fall," I replied.
Her eyes nearly popped out of her head. (She was a tad dramatic, but I'm not one to judge that...)
"Seventeen years are you KIDDING me?!?!?!"
"......No."
"That's such a long time! That's, like, your whole life!"

And while in the moment, that conversation was an inconvenience, it made me think. It's very true; seventeen years is a long time. So I began to look back on those years, and all I could find was beautiful memories and gratitude for the people who created them.

A bit of background:

My family moved here when I was seven years old. South Dakota was all I'd ever known, and moving across the country absolutely terrified me. I was leaving my school, my friends, my house, my church, and at the age of seven, that was my entire world.

Upon arriving in Appomattox, Virginia, I found myself immersed in a different climate, a different culture and a completely different life. There were church members waiting to help us move into our house. We had church members bringing food for an army. There were even children of church members waiting to be my friends. It felt too good to be true.

Seventeen years later, I can tell you that it was true, and is to this day. For the three of us, hundreds of miles away from any extended family, these people were our family. They still are.

A lot of things have changed over the years, as to be expected. Pastors leave, new ones arrive. People come and go, leaders shift around. But every time I walk through those doors, I feel as though I'm coming home again. And that is something I believe will never change, no matter where I may go in life.

While sitting in church yesterday morning, I was journaling, and what I wrote still rings true.
(Side Note: Sometimes I journal in letters. It makes my writing feel more personal.)



Dear Liberty,

Today I'm sitting in church, and I keep looking around and seeing things that I love so much, things that are so dear to my heart. My father leading his beloved choir, my pastor who leans over in his classic awkward way to say, "How long ya in for?" and simply remembering 17 years of Sundays spent in this wonderful place. I've never been able to find another church that even comes close to resembling this, and I doubt I ever will. This sanctuary is filled with people that have shaped me and changed my life forever. 
I look around and I see Doris Nash (or Momma D), my 5th grade Sunday School teacher. 
I see Geri Granato, who was such a huge part of my time in youth group. 
I see Rodney and Rhonda Kane, who are my best friend's parents and loved me as an honorary child over the years. 
I see Melissa Small, who helped me navigate through the drama of being a teenager and encouraged me to use my struggles as stepping stones to strength. 
I see Jim Smith, who made up a secret handshake with me as a child and still remembers it to this day.
I see Mary Hancock, our church secretary who always let me sit at her desk and never got upset at me for changing her computer background when she wasn't looking. 

And even watching Rusty preach, I am flooded with memories of all of our conversations over the years. How grateful I am for a youth leader that would let me pop into his office, just to talk about his new stack of Hebrew notecards, or my confusion over where heaven really is. Being a ministers' child, I think I was privileged to see a side of him--and the other staff--that many people didn't see on a regular basis. I sometimes forget how glad I am to have known Rusty Small like I have.

I'm currently reading a book by Donald Miller, called "Searching for God Knows What," and he says this:

"I believe now and will always believe that if we are willing to love people, God will pour out His resources to bless our lives and our efforts."

This statement is full of truth, and no church has exemplified this truth as you have. You have loved people in countless ways, and God truly has blessed Liberty because of your passion for loving others.

There are many, many new faces that I don't recognize, and I know that in just a few weeks I'll be off once again to another place. But while I'm here, I simply wanted to take the time to say thank you to a home church that truly is home. Thank you for shaping, growing and guiding me into the person that I am today. I can honestly say that there will never be another church like Liberty Baptist for me. This place has been my life...and the people within its walls have stolen my heart.

I love you all, forever.

A Broken Body.

Okay. When I woke up this morning, I had absolutely no intention of writing a blog post today. I especially had no intention of writing a blog post that in ANY way touches the topic of gay marriage. I have tried my very best to steer clear of the subject, because to be perfectly honest...I have not been sure how to answer the question, "So what do you think about it?"

Right now I'm chuckling to myself, because I know that one sentence--saying I'm not sure how to respond-- is probably going to have several people saying, "Oh good heavens, she supports gay marriage. Call her parents, start the intervention, the music minister's kid has lost her faith!"


That is not what I'm saying. Please, hear me out.

***

Today, my home church's youth pastor Matt spoke about the unity of love. He based his message on Philippians 2:1-4. I'm only going to put verses 1 and 2 here, because they're the focus of this post.

"Is there any encouragement from belonging to Christ? Any comfort from His love? Any fellowship together in the Spirit? Are your hearts tender and compassionate? Then make me truly happy by agreeing wholeheartedly with each other, loving one another, and working together with one mind and purpose."

Matt went on to say that as Christians, we must love everyone in the body of Christ. Even if someone has hurt us, wronged us, abused us, deserted us...we are called to love other believers. We can say,

"But you don't know the whole story. If I told you what he did...
                     
                        If you only knew what she said about me...
                                                   
                                                You weren't here when it all happened..."

And to be honest, I've done that. There have been people in my life that have hurt me. Some of those people left my life many years ago, and there are still moments when I feel the anger, the betrayal, and the pain that they caused me. I've even used that exact excuse before. When someone tells me I sound bitter and unforgiving, I retort, "You just don't get it. If I told you all the gritty details and explained everything, you would totally understand." And maybe that's true. But that's not the point.

During his message, Matt gave 3 statements that reveal how God responds to our struggle to love each other.

God is above personality.

God is above history.

God is above emotions.

The more I think about those simple truths, the more convicted I become.

***
I've often heard people say that one day, we will be at the throne of God worshipping and praising Him, all the while surrounded by everyone that has hurt and wronged us, everyone we were estranged from in life...and it won't matter because everything will be forgiven, made new, and forgotten. But here's my question:

Why don't we strive for that now?

Yes, it's not fully attainable. We're sinful jerks and incomplete. We won't be complete until we reach eternity. But why do we not try harder to forgive, to let go, to forget and to love each other on this earth like we will in the new one? We keep to such a narrow-minded view of things, griping about the people we can't stand and the hurtful, stupid things they do. Sometimes we even say, "Well, at least I know one day we'll get over this in heaven. At least I know he'll speak to me in eternity." We continue to talk about what's to come, thinking that the reborn world will fix everything. And it will, of course it will...but why do we not even attempt to create a semblance of that within our churches, our communities, and our nation?

Matt said something else that really caught my attention. He was talking about how unity is a result of individual humility, and that means we should have the same love, share the same feelings, and focus on one goal as a church, as a body. Of course, the goal of Christians is to make disciples--to bring people to Jesus. The Great Commission clearly states that fact, and it's no secret that evangelism is a pillar of the Christian faith.

But when you look, really look at the life of Jesus--you see that before Jesus drew people to Him, He simply...loved them.

He looked through their flaws;
                                                                 Because He is above personality.

He gazed beyond their past;
                                                                 Because He is above history.

He did not dismiss their uncertainty or hesitation;
                                                                 Because He is above emotion.

To put it plainly, Jesus loved people so completely and through that overwhelming love, brought people to Himself. How do we take such a simple way of living and make such a complicated mess?

***

This is where things get sticky. I scroll through social media lately, and all I see is believers (followers of Jesus, sinners saved by His forgiveness and love) spewing disgust, shock and ridicule at other believers (also just as much sinners who have been redeemed) who in turn retaliate with anger, resentment and cruelty. Just last night I came across an intensely heated argument between people from my own church family, and my heart was broken by reading the defensive and relentless judgment thrust from brother to brother in Christ.

I'm going to say this, and it is harsh. I have no doubt that some people will be offended, but I am so convicted and burdened by what I have seen.

When the Supreme Court legalized gay marriage, the church was given an INCREDIBLE opportunity to show not only the homosexual community, but the entire nation how Christ loves them. We were handed a chance to completely change the way homosexuals view Christians.

And we failed miserably.

The portrait that Christians have painted of Jesus on Facebook over the last 10 days is grotesquely unrecognizable. It is an embarrassment and a source of shame to me, as I know it must be to many others who have tried their best to stay away from the line of fire. How can we even begin to love the world like Jesus, to function as a unified body with one love and one goal, when we can't even manage to love each other that way? It is heart wrenching.

Matt made one more statement that I want to include here. While talking about how the church finds unity, he said:

"It is not our beliefs, our worship practices, or our morality that binds us together. 

It is our condition of mind."

I wish I could shout over the computer screen to you, because I feel it is worth shouting. Our beliefs are not what binds us together as the body of Christ! It is our desire to be Jesus to those around us. It is our longing to bring others to a place where they can experience His grace and His love. Our beliefs don't hold us together. There will always be deviations. There will always be those who think differently from you on certain issues. That's just life. But the command of God to love people, to show His patience, his sacrificial kindness and his constant forgiveness should be the one thing in which all Christians can join together. It should be what Christians are known for.

With the legalization of gay marriage, believers are so caught up in hurling accusations at those they disagree with...when all we need to be doing is loving not only the homosexual community, but loving each other despite our differences of opinions. We complain about how corrupt America has become and how far we have strayed from our Christian heritage. We whine that the government is godless and that soon, we won't have a single trace of Christianity left in the USA. But can we honestly say that our response to events like this has been appropriate? Can we truthfully state that we are trying to turn people's gaze to Christ, or are we actually just drawing deeper battle lines and clawing across them, snatching back our conditional love from those who aren't like us?

I posted a quote from Philip Yancey on Facebook when the Court's decision was first announced, and I want to reiterate some of what he said. It is so perfectly applicable.

"Jesus honored the dignity of people, whether he agreed with them or not...The person was more important than any category or label. How easy it is to join the politics of polarization, to find myself shouting across the picket lines at the "enemy" on the other side....[but] Jesus' love cuts across lines...and dispenses grace. From Jesus I learn that, whatever activism I get involved in, it must not drive out love and humility, or otherwise I betray the kingdom of heaven."

If Jesus looks down at us and the way we are living on earth, He would see that we trample people's dignity, slap a label on their disposition, and point a glaring spotlight at their differences. How much sorrow we must bring to the heart of God. He gave us the perfect example of how to live, and instead we take the parts of that example that we want and throw them in the world's face, changing a message of hope, forgiveness and unfailing love to one of condemnation, judgement and humiliation.

I don't know what it will take for us to put aside our differences, our disagreements and our sinful stubbornness...but I believe that when we do,

That is when we will truly begin to change the world.