My small-town, goody-two-shoes perspective (I know this all will read so simply, but if you know me at all, please try to read through my child-like simplicity) jumped into an ice bath in my early twenties after my dad, a die-hard American patriot and former Marine with the sweetest simple heart for Christ and kindness toward others I've yet met, died. I soon after fell in love with a pacifist, who also has a sweet heart for Christ, but who asks questions that had never crossed my mind before, all under a firm devotion for Christ that depends on no other person's opinion.
Since Justin and I've been together, we've had Christian friends choose to become atheists; we've struggled with loved ones' addictions; we've accidentally worshipped with a tiny LGBTQ church while on vacation (a story for another time that I am still processing; the Spirit was very present); and we've deeply loved a church that broke after asking necessary questions about the way we interpret and share God's Word regarding gender roles.
My husband handled it all very firmly and peacefully. None of it shook him. His trust in God is such a blessing to me, one who tries too hard to be in control and make sense of everything urgently so that the rest of my life (and my kids' lives) will go swimmingly (hardy har har). I would totally be the person hogging all the manna in the desert, only to see it rotting tomorrow, the day for which it was not intended. Justin still listens to my confused heartache about it all and dries my tears when I get overwhelmed.
God's Kingdom is so important to me. I care passionately about every little thing I do every day as part of my service to Him. However, I get very distracted by everyone else's stories, which upsets me or makes me feel lost and purposeless. I've recently come to thank God for my anxiety because I constantly drink His Word as the very parched soul I am... so His power is perfected in my weakness because battling my anxiety delivers me from a lot of sins I'd like to nurse and keeps me close to Him on a moment-by-moment basis. He is always in my head and heart, even if I am a limited and weak and oftentimes bitter person.
As the very normal, not professional-about-communication person I am, one thing I have started to notice in my neurotic observations of social media interactions about the issues in our country is a communication deficit. Please hear me on this: Some powerful people are actually harming humans in word and action, and they need to be held accountable by earthly authorities. If our voices can help that, then speak. However, many people, who are simply ignorant (because we can't know every issue every person faces in our separate corners of the world) are being accused of hatefulness, which just breeds more hatefulness, and I think if we gently educated each other about appropriate rhetoric, understanding that each generation or person comes from a totally different perspective with separate concerns and experiences, then a lot of this bitterness could diminish and be no more... which would protect a lot of hearts who have a lot of social media voices in their heads, guiding their specific temptations and choices. I am not necessarily the one to know proper rhetoric between different groups; mine is more a 'be silent and smile when you don't know what to say' mentality.
This is dated and may sound too simplistic, but I think I am not alone in my concern here. I do not understand why people make us choose sides so often. Do y'all remember when people could like "Duck Dynasty" in the open, and be proud of a Christian family being displayed on television? And then some interviewer, who doesn't understand him anymore than he understood the gravity of the communication toward a group of people, asked Phil Robertson his opinion on the hot topic of LGBTQ lifestyles? A lot of people got angry at him for quoting scripture and adding his "humor". And then they continued to demonize their family as a sold-out commercialized version of Christianity. I personally was not in disagreement with his opinion on scriptural interpretation, although his additional commentary was not tactful, which is an important aspect of kindness--but this event illustrates what I mean about a communication deficit. (Disclaimer: He and I do not see eye-to-eye on American politics. Which makes this post even more important to me.)
Phil Roberstson is a man who loves God and loves people. I come from people who are a lot like him, and I relate to how he speaks because of it, and I feel protective of his stances because I can wrap my head around them. If you study his past and his story, he is a saved sinner, who is very open about his need for Jesus, and who continues to love all sorts of people who are different than he is, baptizing them in Jesus's name. That is more than most Christians I know are doing from Jesus's specific commands. He isn't hateful. He is my brother in Christ. He comes from a different generation, and he is in the spotlight, and we all have a lot to learn about communicating with the LGBTQ community--and a lot of others when our differences clash. That means mistakes are being made, and we can help each other learn from them to make things better in the future.
A lot of our interactions with "enemies"/people with whom we disagree cannot be handled with words. Humble acts of service and kindness, though, would speak volumes. And I think a lot of us try to lean on our own understanding by trying to put our beliefs in words to people who do not yet speak His language, and that God would rather us act in trust of Him by being kind and servant-hearted when the occasion calls for it, or simply by agreeing to disagree without having to harp on each other. We feel so urgent about things that take years of conversations and community to be overcome.
My struggle is with people propagating a gospel that is false. As old-fashioned as it sounds, a lot of people want to be with Jesus, but they don't listen to the behavioral expressions of love they do not like or find natural to themselves, and instead of repenting or struggling (which is holy) they just go with it. OR, since the pharisees, many seem on auto-pilot about equating traditions (whether in family or church or country) to biblical commands. I mean, what false gospel may I be propagating by my human limitations, even though that makes me sick to think about?
But if they/we have Jesus, even in a tiny amount, can we leave each other with that tiny bit of Him that is more than all of any of us, and trust Him, in all His power, to convict and work in our lives, as we strive for Him?
Is a tiny bit of Jesus, amidst our huge emotional/behavioral faults and rationalizing abilities, enough to work through our souls, any souls? Can we serve silently in love and part ways when it's best and necessary? And then look forward to the perfection and salvation and whole community of Jesus on THAT DAY?
I am weary from all the demonizing. I am weary of legalists placing their demands on people who are much different than they are, and I am drained by gracious people making THEIR grace legalistic.
Rednecks aren't all empty-headed patriots.
People with #blacklivesmatter hashtags mostly consist of people who agree that #coplivesmatter and #whitelivesmatter. They just want those of us who have no idea what it feels like to be black to think about and acknowledge some gaps our culture has left since racism "ended."
The people who criticize your party's candidate may have something valuable to share about their perspective of America. Political parties are not listed anywhere in God's commands.
Can you imagine kindly enjying a supper with these people who are different? Maybe see the enjoyment over things we have in common more than any battles over differences in that setting?
We don't have to be threatened and urgently react.
STAY CALM AND--
Jesus, y'all.
He is so big.
Let's trust in Him, and spread the authority and goodness of His Word. Somebody who can relate to YOU will need it, and the mighty tree of His Spirit growing in us will slowly but surely make the changes His creativity can shape into a good plan, despite all of our sins. We won't all agree on every single thing with every single person we meet, but we can overlook some things that aren't realistically harming another person for the sake of unity in Christ. And, again, I think in this world that parting ways (without becoming enemies in word and agenda) is part of unity.
Heaven will be full of sinners, redeemed by Jesus, and we're all at different places along the road. The following is an adorable illustration of a heavenly scene:
An excerpt from _Happy, Happy, Happy_ by Phil Roberston:
Willie gave Paul [an old friend who had just been released from 12.5 years of prison for transporting drugs] a job at Duck Commander, where he met his future wife, Crystle, a former Texas police officer. They both rededicated their lives to Jesus Christ and were married in our front yard. Paul is African-American; Crystle's mother is Hispanic and her father is black. So the wedding crowd consisted of African-Americans and Hispanics but mostly white, bearded rednecks. About the time the wedding proceedings were starting, a friend of mine was putting his boat into the river at our boat dock. My friend later told me he realized then that there must be a God, because every other time he had seen so many ethnicities together, there was usually fighting involved! But there, under the towering pines and oaks next to Cypress Creek in our front yard, he saw a lot of people from different backgrounds who seemed to genuinely love each other and were enjoying being around each other. It was a perfect picture of what Christ's body should look like on Earth.
