The whole problem with the world
Is that fools and fanatics
Are always so certain of themselves
But wiser people so full of doubts

Bertrand Russell Quotes

There is nothing
More dreadful
Than the habit of doubt
Doubt separates people
It is a poison that disintegrates friendships
And breaks up pleasant relations
It is a thorn that irritates and hurts
it is a sword that kills.

Buddha Quotes

A person who doubts himself
Is like a man who would enlist in the ranks of his enemies
And bear arms against himself
He makes his failure certain by himself
being the first person to be convinced of it.

Alexandre Dumas Quotes

1. You know something is wrong with our culture when police officers have to show up at Wal-Mart or Best Buy to stop people from stampeding (killing) each other as they rush to the electronics department to play tug-of-war over a large piece of plastic, with metal things in it, that displays a pretty picture that tells us to buy more of them and other things like them. Its a vicious cycle and you’re stuck, if you’re lucky to get out of the store alive.
2. “Save more. Live better.” As if they really want you to ’save more.’ As if they really want you to ‘live better.’
3. You know something is wrong with our culture when dogs have more clothing than some Third World third graders. Its 50% off today, by the way. So not only can you get your dog a sweater that’s 50% cheaper, but you can also ensure that more of those sweaters are sewn by third world third graders working in a factory. “Mama…who are we sewing these clothes for?” – “For the dogs.” – “But we eat them here.”
4. I want a kangaroo.
5. Is it possible to believe one thing as a matter of faith while knowing another contradictory thing as a matter of scholarship?
6. It is becoming more and more human and less and less divine. Schleiermacher et. al. are beginning to seem more and more like family rather than the grumpy and nasty in-laws.
7. Nothing like an evening playing Catch-phrase mixed with conservative political sound-bites! Gotta love it.
8. Our culture is a Febreeze culture. We know things reek, but we just spray a little ignorance and justification over the issue and its all better. Meanwhile, the issue is never clean. I know. I do it all the time.
9. Jesus is either setting me up for the biggest Damascus Road experience since St Paul, or the biggest disappointment since the St Peter’s three denials.
10. #10 is just filler. I don’t have ten thoughts on my mind right now. Actually, thought #10 is: time to go put of Christmas lights.

This question came in from last week’s Success 2.0 Webcast.

“Did you have a moment where you had a doubt about your recovery? If so, how long did you allow yourself that moment of doubt before you picked yourself up to make your journey back up?” Lauri

Speaking with Dad I can tell you he never had a doubt about his recovery.  He has always believed and taught that there is no point in worrying about what you cannot control.  The reality is all you really can do is accept the facts of the situation you are in, and then determine to focus on what you can do.  You can choose to respond rather than react.  You can choose to do something that will make your situation better.  You can choose to look for a new way of getting done what you really want to get done.

I think one of the secrets that Dad “discovered” years ago is that true success is not measured by a “worldly” standard, but by a spiritual standard.  Are you doing everything you can with everything you have?  Are you honoring Him in your thoughts and actions?  If you can answer yes to these two questions, then you have no reason to have doubts or worries.  But, if you get focused on what you can’t do, or what could happen, then you take your eyes off of Him, and then all you can do is worry and doubt.

When speaking of Estonia with foreigners, most reactions range from clueless to have heard of it… maybe. However there is a whole group of people from very different countries, USA to Somalia who know exactly what that mysterious Estonia is. Surprisingly to many, they know it through lace. Estonia, specifically the town of Haapsalu, has a long history of lace knitting, Haapsalu shawls being the finest example.

Lace knitting dates back to the early 19th century and is still going strong. With the new internet era, these shawls are being knitted in Asia, Africa, Europe and USA. Without a doubt this goes to show the unique value of the craft.

Despite the scary mind bogglingly difficult look, it really isn't bungee jumping to learn how to make yourself one. All you need is to know the basic stitches of general knitting, get some needles, yarn and arm yourself with patience to have a successful experience at knitting lace. All of that with the added bonus of people turning green with envy at your superior skills!

Today shawls are being made following the old traditions as well as giving a new twist to the craft by using different materials, colors, edging methods and so on. While it could be argued to be a bad thing, creativity and innovation also can help to keep the old traditions alive.

organza evening wrap shawl

To learn more about the history of the shawl and learn to knit one, Saara publishing company released a book Haapsalu sall by Siiri Reimann and Aime Edasi. The English version of the book is titled Haapsalu shawl and can be ordered through their international sales and shipping department – tiina@saara.ee.

This book is a true delicacy with its beautiful layout and mouthwatering pictures (pictures with this article also from this book). It features a wide range of different patterns, quite a few of which have never been published before, all wrapped into a gorgeous book that is a work of art on its own. This surely is a gem for anyone interested in lace knitting. Or interested in having a pretty book in your shelf to show off to guests.

My good friend Tokyo Jo over at abstractetiquette.com put me on to Hi-Jynx last week then this week my friend Marv RT’d the link for his mixtape that dropped on Monday. I should’ve posted it then but I was lazy #kanyeshrug. But like I said in my “Happy Thanksgiving” post, today is a day for good music. Check out his single “Doubt” (available on the mixtape) which is currently featured on AOL video. You can download the mixtape by clicking the album cover.

Peep the tracklist and where you can find him after the jump.

Follow him on twitter @JynxUrself

Celebration in Florence City Center

by D’Arcy

A phoenix is a mythical bird with a tail of beautiful gold and red plumage. It has a 600-800 year life-cycle, near the end of which it builds itself a nest of cinnamon twigs that it then ignites; both nest and bird burn fiercely and are reduced to ashes, from which a new, young phoenix, reborn anew to live again. The bird was also said to regenerate when hurt or wounded by a foe, thus being almost immortal and invincible — it is also said that it can heal a person with a tear from its eyes and make them temporarily immune to death; It is a symbol of fire and divinity.

These past two years have been my time of the phoenix. It’s been a time when all I knew and all I was went up in flames. A time of seeing my life rise up in flames and swirl down into gray-white ashes, floating around me, with no chance of using them to rebuild anything. It seems like it’s been that kind of a year for many people. But there comes a time when you just have to decide to come out of those ashes reborn. I think the season of gratitude and kindness and unconditional love is just that time for each of us.

I’ve been thinking about the human tendency to get stuck in the past or to live in the future. We are the only animals that do this. Think of a lion on the hunt. If he missed his prey, does the Lion sit back, and think about what he should have done differently “Oh, man, I should have zigged when I zagged. Or I should have gone the other way. I’m a failure. I’ll never catch anything.” Does the Lion get caught up in the past, in the what ifs and never hunt again. Does the Lion bring on his own death with his paralyzing fear? No, the Lion gets right back on track and keeps going until he’s gotten his dinner. It’s important to be present. It’s important to be gentle with ourselves. It’s important to admit we don’t know it all, that none of us are all “right” and none of us are all “wrong”. Seems like sometimes we mortals get really obsessed with the rights and the wrongs of life.

There has been a lot thrown at me this year. Broken relationships, leaving the country, finding a new way to live my truth, a sister who almost died, a family that’s shattered a bit, a testimony that just won’t get back to where I thought I wanted it to be.  But, there is one thing that I’ve learned about myself in all this doubt and wonder, no matter what life serves up…I’ll keep rising.  It’s the phoenix inside of me.And there is one inside of each of you.

As I was pondering what to post on my last Thursday of each month slot, I couldn’t help but have something on my mind from Jessawhy’s latest post about her articles of faith. I was reading them, loving them, rejoicing in them, and also in the comments. Reading down, there was one comment that was a slap in the face to each of us who have broken out of some certain type of LDS person we may have been. The commenter bluntly told Jessawhy (and as I am in agreement with her, he was telling me and everyone else who got something from that post) to mail in a request to the church office buildings and have our names removed from the community because we obviously don’t belong. I don’t usually mention things like that again, I don’t think they are worth mentioning. But it’s been hanging around in these thoughts of mine. This idea of being “sheep” to a fault. This idea of harsh judgment from people who don’t think my ideas fit the mold of what they want to see in the church. My struggle to wonder if that’s the community I want to keep belonging to– one that seems unable to allow for doubt, that shuns individual revelation if it differs from the masses, that hesitates when someone finds their own real and personal truths, and that can’t allow deep evaluations and questions without returning with some sort of flippant remark.

I’ve had to come to a lot of decisions this year about a lot of things.
And I have decided that I’m letting go of the definitions that held me to me. I’m no longer defined by a religion. I’m no longer defined by my degrees or education. I’m no longer defined by the trips I’ve taken or the things I’ve seen. I’m no longer  defined by any of these things. For it is only when we stop placing ourselves in the boxes that have defined us that we realize we are free of confinements, and free to fly. Free to rise up like a phoenix out of the flames. Free to soar to heights and fall to depths that other people may be too afraid to reach. As Anias Nin once said, “Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.”

Here’s to each of you who have the courage to be who you are. Here is to each person who is not afraid of reaching new heights and achieving new things. Here is to each of you who have helped me ask the questions I didn’t dare to ask before you gave me a place and a voice to do so. Here’s to the phoenix inside of each of you. May you be reborn and rejuvenated and keep on keepin’ on!

CAUTION

Cautious they watch me,

Judgmental they view—

Who does he think he is?—

Drinking champagne, listening to jazz—

I read, once and so long ago, read

Literature—that uneased them—

Incorporated literary thoughts into

Everyday speech and manners—

I existed like text to be read only

In page.

These many years later—glutton—

Avaricious among us­—am guilty of

Any and all the seven sins—in heat,

Burning, burning—feel the fever from

The page—I am waiting, I am waiting—

Waiting for others to rise up from their

Own petty moments—they melt I am told

In the heat of your own brilliance—the best

Well-meaning words have to offer:  they slap

My face.  How—tell me—do puddles help me

Now?—a rotund monk—oblate, out of step

With this world, slipping in puddles—cassocked

In brown—a Jesuit heart, a Franciscan mind—

No community undergirding this fast fading Falstaff—

Cocktail, mixed, in hand, eye on the buffet:

Faulkner—The Call—closed in one hand—

Morrison—The Response—fisted in The Other—

Poetic language escaping my mouth full of Easter

Memories and Pentecost dreams washed

Down by champagne and numbed by chocolate.

Cautious, cautious I am viewed—I am—listening

To Coltrane and Hartman—smooth as hot-chocolate

Wishes with a brandy sidecar—Shirley Horn waiting

Breathless in the wings—so again—­here’s to life­—

Cigar burning like incense in a thrift-store ashtray,

Turquoise and kidney-shaped—baby hands holding

The literature which killed me—baby feet still

Smooth—calloused not even by warehouse

Work—feral with Desire—I am only here—

Falstaff fading fast—remembering the September

Garage—this is not a poem—these are the words

They will find. 

I should like only just once to be unfevered—

Cold, like the forgetful frozen foods in the freezer

In the garage—a refreshing bag of Peas placed as

A compress over my burning eyes—frost-bitten

Piece of flesh blackening the big toe in the fall—

The blissful dark of the garage, like the old confessionals,

Door closed against the chaos of the word, drawing in,

Drawing close to solitude and contemplation—with

Jazz and champagne—no need for a coffee—I’m buzzed

Enough—and piled at my feet—the literature which

Surely killed me.

Winter 2009

Dan Davis, © 2009

This is the newest devotional I’ve done for Code-4 Ministries.  Enjoy!

I love men. Men are my life. all i can think about is men lately. i want a man. men think i am weird. men think only of me as a friend. i go after taken men unknowingly. i will never find a man this way.

It was my first clue that athiests are my brothers and sisters of a different faith, and every word they speak speaks of faith. Like me, they go as far as the legs of reason will carry them–then they leap.
I’ll be honest about it. It is not athiests who get stuck in my craw, but agnostics. Doubt is useful for a while. We must all pass through the garden of Gethsemane. If Christ played with doubt, so must we. If Christ spent an anguished night in prayer, if He burst out from the Cross, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” then surely we are also permitted doubt. But we must move on. To choose doubt as a philosophy of life is akin to choosing immobility as a means of transportation.

~Yann Martel, the life of pi

Everton’s hopes of moving to a new stadium in Kirkby appear to be over after the government rejects a planned 400m development according to reports…. From BBC News. Full story

This site may contain information about: english fa. The blog is also related to: soccer picks.

Yesterday someone saw an area of my life that is organized and she started telling me how important it is to have things in such good order, especially since this is of a medical nature.  I explained that years ago our insurance was a HMO.  Never before did I have to contact the insurance company so often. (They even got upset because I took our son to have his eyes checked to see if his glasses needed to be changed and I did it without a referral!) If I was going to keep things straight when dealing with insurance, I had to write down who I spoke with on the phone, when I spoke with them and what about, so I started a notebook. Later it occurred to me that I ought to write down what the doctor says when I see him so I put that in the notebook. Once I was filling out forms to have a test done and, oh, gee. One page asked for info on past tests and surgeries and family history. So, now I have all that in my notebook as well.

All that said, the point of this is not the notebook. The lady who admired it works in the medical field and she was telling me how important it is to have it all written down, especially what medicine I can and can’t take. Then she started telling me how unorganized she is. She has trouble remembering what she’s supposed to do when and where she’s supposed to be. Someone once gave her a little notebook to keep in her purse to help her keep up with herself but she would forget to use it. I told her that I have run out the door to the doctor’s office without my notebook so, I don’t do this perfectly!

Keeping up with our schedules and responsibilities is a matter of habit and all we have to do is change our habit. There’s a lady named Marla Cilley who calls herself Flylady. Marla says whatever we do everyday is a habit whether it’s the habit we want to have or not. So, it’s a matter of changing habits. If you aren’t familiar with Flylady and you want to build good organizational habits (she has a great way to get you through Christmas!) check out her website at www.flylady.net. She gets what it is to live a side-tracked life and has helped many a person (male and female) get on track with free daily email reminders. She is able to turn a lot of things that are boring – and don’t we sometimes procrastinate because it’s boring? – into a game.

One more thing to consider. I read a really good book years ago by Os Guinness, “Of Two Minds: The Dilemma of Doubt and How to Resolve It.” This book is primarily about faith, unbelief and doubt and how to work through these things but, something he said that applies to a lot of areas of life is relevant here. Our identity can get all wrapped up in our problems so that we don’t see ourselves without the problem but we see the problem as part of who we are. It’s possible that the lady I spoke with yesterday was not only telling me something about herself; she was telling me who she is. We have to be willing sometimes to want to change how we see ourselves and also deal with the change in relationship equilibrium that it causes when we do change. What if there is someone in this dear lady’s life who likes her that way? Someone who would feel threatened by her changing? Sometimes we have to be brave to change.

Well, if you would like to be more organized or, even if you just feel like you are the only person on the planet who is cleaning a house everyday and you’re tired of feeling isolated, you might like Flylady’s methods. I got her email for a few years myself and enjoyed the thought that if I was wiping down my front door (a very short, less than 10 minute chore) so were folks all over the world. I found out later that not only were the members in the US doing that little chore that day along with those in Australia, England, Spain and other countries but, so did a good friend who lives across town from me. And right now as I’m writing, I have my Holiday Control Journal (a freebie on her site), right next to me. I’ll be doing a bit of Christmas shopping today.

Down to 0% patience. Every action sets me off. And I’m a person with a million triggers. Talking doesn’t work. And I am unwilling to be affected by the animosity. It’ll cost me the exam, and cost him nothing. But I foresaw it; foresaw the inability to comprehend, the defensiveness. Some things are like wine. I am growing unhappy. Perhaps it will lose me some unwanted weight. I am growing discontent.

Promises must be kept. Helping me to study doesn’t mean turning up the volume on the soccer channel and leaving me alone in the room. And if there isn’t a more hideous sound in the world: The sound of a commentator’s droning British accent and the cheering of rabid idiots. Helping me to study doesn’t mean setting the book and me down on the bed and barking “Study”. I feel unsupported. Alone.

Scary word, innit. Alone. 3500 miles away and it felt like you were always there for me. Now 3.5m away, you’re as inaccessible as I am withdrawn from you.

Now that I’ve taken the morning off, perhaps I could use the time to talk. But I’d be better off studying. Much less of a waste of time.

1. Early morning in the cafeteria makes for interesting conversations (one-way however): Man sits down at table across from me: “How are you this morning”? – “Fine” – “That’s good.” – “I was having a good day until yesterday when I got on the bus and you know how they let you bring a mug with a lid on the bus?” – “Yes” (actually, not really) – “Well yesterday I got on the bus and the bus driver told me that it wasn’t a lid (motions to his Tim Horton’s paper cup with no lid) So you know what I did? I just ignored her the entire trip.” – “Oh.” – “Anyhow, you when people are acting like that, she was being rude, bitchy, and mean, you know, they are worshiping the Devil and Satan.” – (I didn’t realize that they were two separate people) – “And you know when we are sitting here acting like we are, clam, cool, collected, patient, kind, we’re worshiping God, Christ, and Jesus.”
2. Aaaaaannnd…I just realized something. I am waiting for my “date” to show up for our 8 AM appointment (it is now 8:30) and I almost left, but maybe I ought to take this random guy’s advice and be patient because its the right thing to do. Or, I’m just super-spiritualizing this chance encounter with some random guy I’ve never talked to before. That too.
3. Every time I go and talk to C.A., I feel like I’m talking to myself as a 45-year old and I mean that it a completely respectful way.
4. Question the Resurrection in class, everyone assumes you are actually questioning the Resurrection. Question the Resurrection on your own and you realize you are actually questioning the Resurrection, but you don’t want to actually question the Resurrection in class otherwise everyone will think you’re one of those (the cynical and bitter RELS student that became an atheist after RELS 101 or 102; they do exist).
5. “Minimal facts”: Habermas’ point of departure for the defence of the Resurrection. Use only the texts that all scholars (regardless of school of thought or religious adherence) can agree on. Supposedly, one can “construct the entire Christian faith from the ‘minimal facts.’” That still doesn’t mean we addressed the presupposition of biblical historical reliability.
6. “I perceived that God was always near, directing my life, creating the circumstances and opportunities to choose, yet always leaving the crucial choices to me. I was awestruck by the realization of the intimacy and love that reveals, not because we deserve it, but because it is always there and all we have to do is turn to Him to receive it….God is the source of all the love, mercy, kindness, and wisdom—of all the beauty—that we experience and feel.” Think a Christian wrote that? Think again. How do we explain that?
7. I’ve found my passion in life, what I want to do, what I want to be, how I want to live. Now the task of doing that becomes the focus.

It’s so easy it’s scary!

Watch this video for a dark and twisted (and largely accurate) take on what I’m currently researching for upcoming posts…

how many more tears
would you have me fall down my face?
how many more tears
do I have to hide from your sight?

how much more anger
would you want me to feel?
how many more gasps
of despair do I have to hold inside?

I get so angry, that I cry
then I hate that I cry these tears
I can’t continue to feel
so many emotions all at once

For now, I choose to live in this misery
against all good advice
For now, I endure the pain
against all that’s right for me

Because I believe you when you say
you will make a change
Because I want to feel again
what we once had

I saw a  movie the other day that gave some serious challenges to my faith. I left the theater questioning, doubting, and worrying that I am wasting my time with God.

Some say there is no evidence for God or that is God is a silly, irational idea. But just because we can’t see him doesn’t mean that there aren’t good, logical reasons to believe in him. I think it is good to have a reason for what one believes (or doesn’t believe). That is what this series of posts is all about: Why I still believe in the midst of my own doubts.

Reason 1 : Something Created the Universe

“How do you know that?”

• The Universe began to exist.
• Something can’t be created without having a creator.
• So something had to “pre-exist” time and space to create the Universe.
• We call that something God.

Simple. You have to have a painter to have a painting, a chef for a gourmet meal, a composer to have a song. You must have a creator to have a Universe.

Not converted yet? Good. This is not an argument to get anyone who doesn’t believe in God to change their minds. I don’t think converts are made by sharing a proper syllogism or line of reasoning. So please, please, please understand I am not trying to convince anyone of anything with a blog post.

“So why write about this kind of stuff?”

I write about these things because I like to have reasons for what I believe. I created this blog to write out my thoughts and share with those you care to read them.

These sort of things help me to make sense of my questions and doubts.

I think we all (atheists, pastors, young, old, democrate and republican) have doubts about God and religon. What is it that you doubt? What seems fishy? What is it about God that bothers you?

My distractions have led me away from the dreams I have sought to transform, and my attention span testifies to its betrayal. But really, they are mine, one and all, because I lead temporary passions by a short leash until I see another sparkling orb of the unfamiliar and choose to follow it instead. Positions in and around fate are constantly changing, and I am subject to them, losing places as often as I lose myself. Regret is a fictional parade, and moves nowhere.

The West pulls at my heart as magnetism pulls me east, and understanding of this phenomenon eludes me, as does Focus. As a tumultuous result, inspiration tosses me about in ragtime, but I seldom bite back, or chase it – or always. Disappointment is legion, and only intentional breath levels me. For lifetimes I have retained the irritating inability to voice what it is I want regardless of expectation. Priority is a façade, and reflects only the bonds of responsibility. These I will not abandon, for they are mine, and belong to me, like truth does. More importantly, it and they belong to those around me, and I can affect them. I will affect them, because I gave my Word, and I pretend that means something. Somewhere, it does. To someone, whom I may or may not know yet, it does.

Escape is mine, and we have been friends often – but I have escaped the things I love, for reasons I can detail sonically only to myself, and it is my wish to discontinue this pretension, this flight, this grand alighting I have made ceremonious. Impossibility does not exist, and walking on the sun taught me that, while standing on mountains, walking away from that lake underneath the cliff – remember that? I do, and I have banished that memory for its happiness, for its contentment, and I have disputed my deserving of that day. But it, too, is mine, and is yours, too, if you want it.

Winter beckons. The snow and cold calls, and my dreams feature those lost to me. I intend to find that Focus, though we have never encountered one another – and there is only one place it resides, and this location claims no borders on any map, is not kept by governments, not managed by corruption, unlimited. I am boundless and do not know it, or it is taken for granted, not appreciated, not loved, and this is irreverent, depraved.

Presently, I make no oath to the god of change, unless he is me, and I am him. Perhaps we are, and I do. This line of breadcrumbs and featureless terrains I have followed in hopes of some fortunate event ultimately befalling me ends here, now. Faultlines are now marked, I have been down that road, thinking it was the one less traveled, that my passion and patience would reward some sacrifice, and I was mistaken. And maybe I will be again, and again after that, but to learn is my ambition, to inspire my infinite hope, and I cannot achieve these without Truth, or the pursuit of it. My capabilities are limited only by doubt, counterfeit instinct.

And I’ll heed no more of that, if I can help it.

Yesterday, I was introduced to Rob Bell by way of his Open video. I then proceeded to watch Flame,Whirlwindand She. (see NOOMA for downloadable full length versions) I may be the last person in America to have heard about this hip and controversial Christian thinker. Let me say, it was instant wow and deep regard. Perhaps even infatuation (I admit I have a weakness for big thinking, cool-glasses-wearing, idealistic guys.)
 
He’s the evangelical pastor of Mars Hill Bible Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan, and… a graduate of Wheaton College (note: they don’t dance there.) Hoo boy! Bible church, no dancing, and evangelical… that trifecta is more like “lions, tigers and bears” for liberal, pole dancing, multi-faith me! 
 
Yet I took it as a good sign that conservative bloggers blast him. In a Boston Globe interview he says the word “evangelical” has been ”hijacked” by the political right. He offers instead, ”I embrace the term evangelical, if by that we mean a belief that we together can actually work for change in the world, caring for the environment, extending to the poor generosity and kindness.”
 
He’s written a book called Sex God: Exploring the Endless Connections between Sexuality and Spirituality; he honors the feminine qualities in God (that alone makes me want to move to Michigan) and he likens God’s care to that of a mother’s fierce, lay-down-her-life love for her children. He speaks with palpable commitment, yearning and gentleness. And most importantly for doubters like me, he struggles with having no answers to unanswerable questions.
 
I’m not writing about him so you too will think he’s great. I bring him up simply to say that this unexpected “evangelical” voice went straight to the heart of someone who feels closer to God on a yoga mat than dressed up in a pew.  
 
Who does that for you? Whose integrity inspires you? Whose passion speaks to the deepest questions in your heart? Whose values make you feel ah, yes, there is hope?
 
As you can tell, I love people who speak up about what they believe. People who say, “This is what I stand for. This is what I suffer. This is how I yearn to love and live.” By letting you know exactly who they are, they give you permission to take or leave them.
 
Richmond yoga teacher Aimee Yowell is another one who really goes for it. She is pure embodiment of what she teaches. With the spirit she exudes and the devotion to something greater that she brings to her teaching, each 1 hour and 15 minute class feels like a 3-hour journey to the core of it all. She is unabashed in moving as if the life of her soul depended on it. It’s infectious and it is an invitation to discover what frees my own soul. I love her willingness to put out there exactly who she is and the gift she offers.
 
Tell me, who turns you on to life? Who inspires you to rise up and participate with all you have in this magical, mystical ride? Tell me. Tell them. Tell others.

Kenneth and Debbie Linnell

Article by Dr. Kenneth Linnell

Most of us I believe are like me in that as we go through our lives we have doubts, all sorts of doubts. But for us who have professed Jesus of Nazareth as Lord, Savior and Son of God, as the Risen Christ, doubts are especially troubling.

We have the scriptural example of the Apostle Thomas, now known to the entire world as long as it remains, as “Doubting Thomas.” All of us as beginning followers of Jesus, whether as children in our Sunday school classes or later in life as adults learn of poor misguided Thomas. We all determine in our hearts and spirits we will not be like Thomas, we will never doubt. But then we live out our lives among the challenges presented to us in a world that does not yet recognize the one who saved it through His sacrificial offering of Himself, and we doubt. Doubts of allsorts assail us and when mixed with bits and pieces of false teaching, half truths and downright misinformation fed to us by the enemy of God from every angle of our lives we wonder if some how in attempting to serve JESUS as LORD, even loving Him with all our heart, mind, and soul, that some how we have missed the point and failed Him miserably. If we are honest even while we profess our faith with utmost vigor we fell abandoned and alone. If we are honest in our confessions I believe we all must admit to these thoughts and feelings.  

At the time of the event I recount I too had been in this frame of mind and place of life for some months.But first a little background for those of you who do not know me.I am a minister of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

I am currently preparing to take Holy Orders as a priest in the ICCEC (International Communion of the Charismatic Episcopal Church). I also ride a motorcycle and belong to several related organizations. I wear the colors of the CMA (Christian Motorcyclist Association) and serve as Chaplain for both my CMA chapter and the chapter of the SCRC (Southern Cruisers Riding Club) to which I belong. My ministry is among the motorcyclists where ever they are found along the highways and byways of our land. When asked recently concerning the location of my “church” my reply was, “wherever I am at the moment.”

On November 9, 2009 while riding my bike in moderate lunch hour traffic in Columbus, GA, a young woman made a left turn less than a car length in front of me without warning or signal. I was traveling at approximately 30 miles per hour. There was no time for reaction of any sort, I remember thinking, “this is gonna hurt,” and it did an instant later.The next moments, hours, and days were filled with many details to lengthy to report here, but I was instantly surrounded by caring and concerned people, EMT personal, Emergency room personnel, ICU nurses, and finally the staff of the trauma floor of the hospital. They were all wonderful and I am convinced many were angels sent to assist me in recovery, especially those who first responded at the site of the accident.  

I was wearing all of my protective gear, leathers, boots, gloves, and helmet. These were removed at the scene by one of the EMT’s, who was also a “biker”, I remember him telling me he would do this for me because he knew they were expensive and if he did not get them off me the ER people would simply cut them off, destroying them in the process. They were removed and there is not a mark on them. One would never know they had been through such a trauma.As I made the short trip to the emergency room in the ambulance the EMT began to methodically cut my clothes away from my body, this process was continued in the ER until I lay as unclothed as God had made me. There was a great deal of pain, but I was conscious throughout all the event and attempted to be as light hearted as possible, even tough I could not move off my back. I remember saying to an unseen emergency room person , “you have just cut off my brand new drawers,” to which a very pleasant female voice replied, “but they are not your lucky drawers”. We all had a good laugh.

I wear a cross as a pendant around my neck and have done so for many years. Recently I was given a crucifix by the priest of the church I attend. On that morning as I dressed I chose that particular pendant to wear. It was not a conscious decision as I do not even remember placing around my neck that morning. Several hours later I discovered this crucifix to be the only article of my personal belongings remaining on my body. For some unexplained reason it had not been cut off.

 As I lay there in the ER some hours after arriving (I was in the ER approximately 13 hours), I noticed the crucifix lying upon my chest, and saw that the longest leg or the portion below the transept of the cross was slightly, almost imperceptivity bent.

Instantly, with an unexplainable visible rush of knowledge and love, I knew that Jesus had taken the hit for me as my bike, my instrument of ministry, crashed in to the body of the car placed so inappropriately in front of me. I was filled with a fullness of understanding of all Jesus did for us on the cross, for me. I knew with certainty He is with me, that he was there before, during, and after the event. I knew again with a wonderful freshness that His promise never to leave us nor forsake us is forever true. How I wish I could convey to you who read this the absolute wonder of that moment and the absolute peace brought into my spirit. The reality of life in Christ was made so clear, simply in Him we are safe regardless.

The EMT’s told me that my helmet saved my life, that my leathers prevented my body from sustaining all sorts of damage. I am certain that these where the instruments used for this purpose, but as I lay there holding the crucifix in my hand I knew, and know with certainty, it was Jesus of Nazareth who took the hit for me over two thousand years ago at a place called Calvary.

The Jesus I know and love, is no longer on the cross or in the grave He is risen, and now seated at the right hand of the Father, coming again for His loved ones. All who will and have surrendered to His Lordship and proclaim Him to be Lord of Lord’s and King of King’s, Jesus the Christ of the living God of all creation. Therefore, the crucifix has always been problematic for me, and at times I have even considered it to be a symbol of wrong thinking, a distraction for the truth of the Gospel message. The Cross of Jesus is empty. Yet now I see the crucifix as emblematic of the blessings Jesus worked for all of us, for our life here and now on this earth, in this life. I see it as a symbol for the journey of Jesus to the cross, where by His stripes we are healed, where He is bruised for our iniquities, and where finally in His suffering and death we are set free of the penalty of sin and death.

I have for many years believed and known, within Jesus and all that He is, lays everything we need for this life and the life to come, and now because of an unconscious act on my part in placing the crucifix around my neck that morning, and the gift of a friend and contemporary, I can, each time I hold this crucifix in my hand see with my own eyes the evidence of things unseen and the substance of things unknown. Jesus took the hit for me and I have no broken bones, I am in Him and He has no broken bones. He was bruised for my iniquities, I am bruised but not broken, I have been given knowledge that my ministry and my time of usefulness in His service is not over. I have been shown just as was beloved Thomas of long ago, that Jesus is real and alive, shown that He is with us, that His promises are true. Regardless of the circumstances of life and the lies of the enemy, regardless of how hopeless the situation, Jesus has never forsaken us. We are not alone, be assured, He is there to take the hit.

Give yourself to Him freely and unconditionally for He can be trusted. He will take the hit what ever it is. He did for me! He will for you!

Nowadays, I’m always happy with the status quo. But everybody wants to change everything; ruin the intricate balance. Killjoys. Really now, who could ever be my consistent immortal?

Only Him, I guess.

The pledge card sits on silver-plated tray,
Reproachful because I don’t want to give
To priest who won’t hear me, won’t see me stray
From husband’s love because this faith’s a sieve
That holds nothing, means less, and is nowhere.
As others walk in two straight lines Sunday
For communion, I sit alone and stare
At stained glass, stained self watching the relay
Of host and cup; or blue-veined hand on cane
Tottering back down the aisle to steady
The woman I might have become. Refrain
Of centuries-old hymns, and I’m ready
To die for my sins. I will not repent
Of sweat-soaked hours that left us both well spent.

Some mornings (and late nights, and dinner times, and during my favorite part of my favorite television show) I wonder why the hell Carrie and I live where we do. Home for us isn’t what it was growing up. Home is where you went when your world didn’t make sense, where you could close the door and shut out the world, the problems, the sadness, the worry. Home was where you went to get a big hug from mom, or sit in dad’s lap watching tv after dinner, or where you could retire to your room to talk on the phone with friends. Home was safe. Home was secure.

Some mornings (et al) I wish we didn’t live where we live, or believe what we believe. Sometimes, even when I’m acting like I believe it, I’m not quite sure that I do. But then again, what does belief mean besides orienting your life around what you understand to be true. Maybe I’m still to caught up in the idea that belief is just mental assent to certain principles… and that one can be unwavering in their belief (most likely because my beliefs didn’t used to affect how I lived my life).

Some mornings, I wonder if I’m crazy. I know for a fact that if the 25 year old Justin ran into the 18 year old Justin, the elder would be outright rejected by the younger for being insane. “Non violent resistance, huh? The world just doesn’t work like that”. Or “Of course you have to support ‘our’ armies, what are you some sort of anti American liberal” or even “You wanna live there and NOT own a gun? What happens if someone breaks in and kills you and rapes your wife?”. And the 25 year old could answer those questions, but they are never going to satisfy the 18 year old. Cause sometimes those answers still don’t satisfy me now, absent any theoreticals.

“For the Cross of Christ is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to those who are being saved it is the power of God”

Paul penned those words some 1900+ years ago. I think I get it now. If you get serious about following Jesus, not only will the world think you are crazy, but even you yourself might. Its not logical to lay down your life. Its not logical to give not just from your plenty but from your poverty. Its not logical to practice hospitality to those you don’t even know, must less have a reason to trust. Its not logical to move to the inner city, to break bread with felons and give rides to known prostitutes (the police will follow you, trust me on that one).

All this to say, my life is completely nuts. Sometimes I wonder what we’re doing, whether I really believe what I think I believe. I tend to go with yes, but only because Carrie and I have done some things that I just don’t think would have been possible without the Spirit guiding us. But that doesn’t mean that we’re 100% crazy for Jesus all the time. I used to think it was supposed to be that way, but now I’m finding that faith isn’t being juiced up on a spiritual sugar high. Faith is living out your calling even when you’re tired, weary, when things don’t make sense, and when you can’t stop thinking about how comfortable living in a false security was.

God bless spirit infused faith.

So I created this blog under the sentiments that studying the word of the Bible would rid me of my problems, by essentially guiding me in ways such that I could become a more suitable Christian and make it to heaven. But I’ve wound up learning an important lesson this week: I’ve learned that it is not reading scripture that saves you; that only accepting Jesus Christ as your savior can save you.

Interestingly enough, in this moment, I was not lacking faith in God but rather in the power of Jesus. I could not get past my being a sinner. It was like the self doubt kept playing through my mind on repeat–How could the Lord love me when I continually  sin and fail him? And thus, it was in this self doubt that I underestimated the power of Jesus. I was no longer seeing Jesus as the answer sent by the Lord to answer my struggles with sin.

And while it is perfectly normal and probably healthy to evaluate your sins and strive to improve your behaviors I was taking it to a level in which I was sabotaging my own relationship with God. I was making it such that I became torn within myself. While I wanted to go out to party and kept telling myself that the Bible never said there was anything wrong with dancing, I kept beating myself up because of the vulgar music that we listen to or the “grinding” that everyone was doing (which are problematic but still).

I began feeling ashamed again when I would pray, and thus lost my excitement to talk to God in prayer. I felt unworthy of His love, unworthy of even reading the Bible and ultimately questioned whether I was in fact saved. And may I remind you that all of these major problems sprouted from my excitement to further my faith and improve spiritually–funny how Satan can turn a moment of renewal into one of destruction.

All in all, I’m not sure what the special formula is in terms to handling sin but after this battle I can assure you all that the answer is not to question our relationship with the Lord. Upon His departure, Jesus left us in good hands and we must learn to trust all three vehicles of the Lord as the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. If we have accepted Jesus as our Savior we must have faith that the Lord will never leave us and that the Holy Spirit within us will continue to strengthen us through our lows and highs.

In parting, I hope that you take this scripture to heart.

Romans 6:14 | For sin shall not be your master, because you are not under law, but under grace.

Sincerely,

Nadia