My Angry Friend

(How do I say this without sounding crazy. I don’t think that’s possible. I’m okay with that.)

I have this friend named Angry Tracie. She first showed up when I was 16 and pregnant; until recently, I didn’t realize how much a part of my life she’d become.

Angry Tracie has been my trusted companion when I’m hurting, and I’ve especially enjoyed rehashing old hurts with her. She seemed to be the only person who listened to me and cared about my feelings. Her presence comforted me. Angry Tracie became my closest friend.

I got saved 13 years ago. But I’ve still trusted her more than anyone. Through lots of personal struggles, when I felt like God wasn’t listening, didn’t like me and wasn’t concerned about my broken heart, Angry Tracie was there to console me. (That confession might be offensive to some Christians. Or you might agree with my conviction that Jesus leaves each of us plenty of room–He’d call it grace–for discovering and working through our humanity. Room, plus the Holy Spirit.)

I didn’t recognize Angry Tracie’s influence, more than 20 years of it. But I do now. Knowing about her is changing the way I think and behave and live. Jesus is gently working us through it. Man. I love Him for that.

Do you have a “friend” who might be keeping you from really living, and really loving?

Christian Womanist?

Womanist: believing in and respecting the abilities and talents of women; acknowledging women’s contributions to society. –Dictionary.com

I’m a womanist. This is almost my first time publicly acknowledging it.

I debated a bit about whether to call myself a feminist (according to Dictionary.com, one who believes women should have rights equal to men). But it seems to me that feminism views a man’s lifestyle as the ideal–like the goal of feminism is to live like men.

Meh.

If I wanted to have a positive affect in the world on behalf of women… if I wanted to change how women are viewed and valued in this world… I just wouldn’t start by putting men on a pedestal (for worshiping, for epitomizing, or for bashing). Let men be men. And let women be women.

I’m also a Christ-follower. I thought for a long time that I couldn’t be both. But I’m learning that God is clever enough to handle all my complexity. Still, I’m sure you can imagine the raging internal debate I’ve been having with myself.

What do you think? Do the paths of Christianity and womanism (and even feminism) diverge?

The Icing on the Cake

Special Note: Much as I dislike Christian-ese, I’m going to use a word straight out of the Church and Religious People’s Vocabulary Handbook: “Anointing.” Just so no one gets lost, I’ll define it: To be anointed means to have been chosen by God to do a specific thing especially for him.

I was thinking today about the difference between talent and anointing. I was thinking about this because I would consider myself a talented singer. But I have this wonderful, beautiful, amazingly talented friend who is very obviously anointed to lead worship through music. So I wondered today (and not for the first time) if I’m an anointed singer. After I mentally compared myself to my friend, I decided that I’m not.

But today for some reason, it didn’t end there. I felt like God stopped me and asked, “Who said you can’t be anointed?” He impressed on me that he wouldn’t give someone talent in an area if he wasn’t also prepared to anoint in that area. It was simply a matter of wanting it, and that would come by wanting him.

So, what kind of music do I listen to? What are my thoughts toward God? What am I doing to demonstrate to him that I want the honor and responsibility of being anointed? I felt like God said to me, “If you want it, come get it.” And then he reminded me that he’d said the same thing to me years ago. Instead of working toward it then, I spent years gradually letting fear lead to apathy. ”I’m not confident enough. I’m not smart enough. I’m not talented enough. I’m not compentent enough. God doesn’t even like me. Who wants it anyway? Who cares.” I eventually buried what he said beneath fear and presumed rejection.

Over the years I’ve often compared myself to my friend, and I always fell quite short. That’s stupid of me, of course. I’m not her. Despite my worst thoughts of myself, me being me doesn’t equal automatic disqualification. I think probably the number one requirement of anointing is that you’re you, not wishing you were someone else…

What is the difference between talent and anointing? That’s like asking what’s the difference between cake and icing: They’re not meant to be the same, they’re meant to go together (and quite deliciously). If God baked it, and you offer it back to him, he’ll totally frost it. And then it will be delicious for everyone, and God will get all the glory for making such an awesome cake.

God In Time

We pray about what will happen. But we don’t typically pray about what already happened. Why?

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I got to be part of an amazing conversation with some friends recently. It was one of those conversations that shifts paradigms.

Who’s seen the movie “The Kid” starring Bruce Willis? It’s the story of a 40-ish man who meets and gets to hang out with his 8-year-old self. Somehow we began chatting about this movie, and then we began to wonder what we’d say if we could talk to a former version of ourselves. We all shared about the things some former version of ourselves needed to hear. For example, I would tell my 14-year old self things like: you are valuable; though you’re the only stepchild of three children, you are just as important as your siblings; you belong; you’re not invisible; you’re accepted.

It was an emotional conversation. We wished and hoped that we could have somehow helped our former selves and unravel knots that still affect us today. We wished and hoped that God could somehow have healed us from the pain we endured then, thereby helping our present selves.

We dug deeper into thoughts about time and God. We shared snippets of things we’d heard or thought or felt.

• One of us shared a story she’d heard: God showed a man a vision of a moment in his childhood when he was wounded by someone he loved. The person had since died–but in this vision, the person apologized for wounding him as a child.
• Another of us shared about a story in the book “A Million Miles in a Thousand Years” by Donald Miller. In it, Donald was trying to comfort a family member who had lost her father. He told her that they were all together in heaven already with her father, because heaven is outside of time.
• Another shared a vivid childhood memory of being at church with her mother. A few years ago, God reminded her of that day. He shared that He had been there in that moment, looking down on her and thinking joyfully about the day of her salvation more than 20 years later.

After these stories, we began to wonder:

God exists outside of time; we know this from the teachings in the Bible. So … if God can see/use time as the thing it truly is (not linear, but something else), if He can place Himself in or out of it, or use it as a tool to accomplish His will and serve His purposes … then why do we restrict our prayers to the future? Why shouldn’t we pray, today, for the hurting and struggling versions of ourselves that only God–unbound by these earthly restrictions–can reach?

If we could do this … what results would we see today? Imagine! Go ahead!

Deciphering Me

 

I never thought of this as a worship song, but it was for me today.

God, speaking to me:
Friend, it’s getting late. We should be going. We’ve been sat here beneath these flickering neons for hours.

Me, distracted by flickering neons:
While I am cracking their code, You are deciphering me. For I am a mystery, I am a locked room in a tall tower.

My spirit to me:
Oh can you feel the gravity falling, calling us home? Oh did you feel the stars colliding? Shining just to show, we belong.

Me, forgetting the stupid neons and looking at God:
Your telescope eyes see everything clearly. My vision is blurred, but I know what I’ve heard echoing all around. While I am tuning You in, You are deciphering me: Not such a mystery, not such a faint and far-away sound.

My spirit to me:
It’s love, it’s love that holds us! We will be alright. It’s truth, it’s truth that shows us, if we’ll walk in its light.

Sinless Christians

I’ve been wondering whether it’s possible for a Christian to become mostly sinless.

Now, I’m talking about born-again believers here. Jesus-followers.

In his book “The Grace Awakening,” Chuck Swindoll said many of us are taught that “we’re only human,” and “we can’t  help but sin.” And this is what we’re being taught after we’re saved. Swindoll disagrees. He asserts that it is possible to become less and less prone to sin as we become more and more spiritually mature. He says teaching to the contrary dismisses grace altogether, negates the purpose of the Holy Spirit…

I read Ezekiel 36:26-27 last week, and I’ve been thinking about it and going back to it ever since.

What do you think?

Hero Complex

I love stories, and I love heroes. So when I head to the movies to look in on someone’s story, I often leave the theater dreaming not just about Superman, or Spider-Man, or Jacob (because everyone knows it should be Jacob), but of what it must be like to be that girl–Lois Lane, or MJ, or Bella.

It’s not about being her. It’s about being the object of his affection.

To the rest of the world he’s strong, capable, smart, handsome, powerful. He protects everyone–but he loves her more than anyone. With her alone he’s also attentive, meek, vulnerable, protective, careful. This powerful being is infatuated with an ordinary woman! Something about her has drawn his faithful attention; she’s worth rescuing again and again; she’s worth his life.

Could I ever be her? Lois Lane! Mary Jane Watson! Bella Swan! Tracie Frank?! [Giggle!]

My soul is hungry for this, absolutely desperate for it. I want to be wildly, passionately rescued! I want to be weak, yet be totally okay with it because I know he can handle it! When I’m afraid, I want his arms to protect me. When there’s absolutely no way out of a situation, I want him to show up, bust some heads, and fly away with me. I may seem ordinary to you, but I’m extraordinary to him. He’d give his life for me; whatever you think of me doesn’ t matter.

No one really talks about Jesus this way. But I know this is true: Jesus is all these things, and I’m his Lois, his MJ, his Bella. I’m his Tracie. I know it’s true! And I want to live this.

I love this quote by C.S. Lewis:

“If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

It bears remembering and repeating on days like this, when I’m longing for something I’ve not yet experienced here on earth.

It’s called good news for a reason.

No, I don’t think you understand… There really is good news! And everybody needs to know it. Everybody needs to evaluate it at face value.

In the spring of 1992 I woke up from a dream about the son I’d aborted. When I sat up, still half asleep, I saw my bed surrounded by leaping, orange flames. (They weren’t really there.) I finally recognized myself honestly: I was a murderer. I also recognized the flames: I was going straight to hell. Right away I was swallowed up by utter hopelessness. That year is like a mental abyss. I don’t remember most of it, and that’s especially sad since it was the first year of my oldest daughter’s life. Eventually I managed to stuff everything. But if something triggered the memory, horror was waiting to dive on me.

I didn’t know there was good news for another seven years.

So, subtract all the hype, the judgmental-ism, the “servants” with gold toilet seats, the ugliness perpetuated by those who believed they were doing God’s work. Just evaluate the good news for what it is.

Everybody knows they’re guilty. Everybody knows there’s a cost for their sins … their lies, their shortcomings, their greed and spite and general ugliness. (Don’t sleep … you know.) Our sin keeps us from being able to get close to God. Worse, we’re slaves to sin. Sin has a ring in our noses and leads us around like cattle. Since it’s the only life we’ve known, we don’t recognize its power over us. We work really hard to stay enslaved. Slavery is comfortable and fashionable, and everybody’s doing it! It’s the new black! And even if we realize the truth about our slavery, we’re still powerless to end it.

So we don’t know who we really are, or who we’re meant to be.

The end result of sin is death. God doesn’t want this. He wants us, and he is willing to chase us and show us how much he loves us. So he chose to both wipe our records clean and pay for our release. The currency for these things was his own blood–completely sin-free. Through His sinless son Jesus, our sins were paid for and our guilt was erased. When he died, he took our sins with him into the grave. And when he came back to life, he left our sins behind to rot in the tomb. 

Now, if you don’t know about this, you might go on living like a slave. Or even if you know it, you might prefer slavery. But if you want to be free, you can be. You exchange your guilt and your former life for the life God wants for you through Jesus. You choose to stop following sin around like a walking slab of beef with a ring through its nose, and follow Jesus. His way leads to the life you were created to live, the you that you were meant to be.

Oh, and it’s not a little of this and a little of that. You can only have one or the other. Complete slavery to sin (which is the default setting when you’re born), or complete submission to Jesus. (I’m not gonna pretty it up and say dumb crap like Jesus will take away all your troubles, and your life will be like a rosy stroll in the park either.) Without God, you’re on your own (and maybe that’s fine with you). With God … well, you’ll have God! Who or what else could you possibly need!

July 12, 2009

Jesus said if you deny him before men, he’ll deny you before his Father.

I was thinking today about what it means to deny Jesus before men. My first response was, “I’ve never done that. I’ll never do that.”

But then I thought about every time I’ve had the opportunity to speak on Jesus’ behalf–to introduce him into the conversation. Not a conversation about faith or about religion or about politics, but just an ordinary conversation.

So let’s say there’s a way to succinctly and relevantly bring up the gospel in an ordinary conversation. And I’m not talking about one of those awkward cheesy segueways. “Speaking of minivans, did you know Jesus loves you?”

No, I mean there’s a real-deal opportunity. I’m fully aware of it. And I don’t take it. Did I just deny him?

July 4, 2009

Do you ever just get sick of the fluff?

Aren’t you sick of Christianese?

Don’t you cringe when people “talk the talk”?

Aren’t you fed up with church as usual?

What does it look like to really follow Christ? Really follow Him?

Did He really die so we could be comfortable?

Did He suffer so we could raise our kids in a nice, safe neighborhood?

Do we go to church to get our varied needs met, or do we go there to find Jesus?

Do we really believe that His church is the hope of the world? That He is freedom?

What does a “prayer of salvation” really accomplish?

Why is worship a list of songs?

What can I do to further the cause of Christ in my life, and in the community of believers with whom I live?