fruit...do you have it?

The fruit of the Spirit is one of those topics of conversation that the majority of Christians either ignore, or avoid. I think it stems from a very awkward and uncomfortable viewpoint. When discussing the fruit of the Spirit, we are always left with one lingering question... Do I have it? If the answer is "no", then the notion is terrifying and uncomfortable and requires a reaction. The fruit of the Spirit requires us to examine ourselves, and most often in ways that we don't want to.


I have noticed that when choosing people for leadership positions in churches, the fruit of the Spirit is largely ignored. People tend to make leadership decisions on many other factors: I prayed about you and felt lead to you. You kept popping up into my head. You are always doing work for God at our church. You are so nice and you say the right things, most of the time. You are "growing" as a "Christian" so we want to get you in leadership to keep that going... and on and on and on. In all my years of leading, teaching, being taught, being led, etc, I have never heard someone say, "You exhibit the fruit of the Spirit so well that we can see God's work in you and want you to spearhead A, B or C." People select leaders based on feelings, and that, my friends, is unbiblical.


The fruit of the Spirit is something impossible to fake long term. I think that's why Christ says that we will know His people by their fruit (Matthew 7.20). Seriously, think about it. "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, ²³gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law." (Galations 5.22-23) 


Lets just break these down one by one...love. It's sort of an easy one. Most people can say that "Christians" are loving. I think that's sort of the obvious, fake the funk (if you genuinely don't have the Holy Spirit), act nice around people so they think we're loving kind of thing. Joy, on the other hand, is virtually impossible to fake. It is not the same as happiness. I think a lot of people have that confused. Joy is a sort of gut filling, body encompassing, obvious to anyone with any sort of intuition kind of fruit. To be perfectly honest, I have only met one person in my entire life of following Christ and meeting people, who was filled with joy. Peace...do you really have peace? I mean, when the tornadoes are coming, the job is ending, the children are sick, your body is falling apart, do you really have peace? Patience. Ahem...how patient are you? Are you patient when your family member isn't doing what you want? Are you patient when waiting for that new job opportunity to come through? Are you patient waiting for that special guy or gal to come into your life? Are you patient while waiting for your soldier to return home from deployment? Kindness, how kind are you really? And are you kind to people who are kind to you, or are you kind to everyone? Goodness. What does this even mean!? I mean, seriously, what does it mean to show goodness? Faithfulness, are you faithful when no one around you is? Are you faithful in your heart, when that attractive person walks by, or does your mind take you to someplace a little less faithful? Gentleness. Are you gentle when your spouse does something that angers you? Are you gentle when your children are not making the choices you want them to? Are you gentle when people around you are upsetting you? Self control. How controlled are you really? 


After examining all of these things, I don't know about you, but I know in myself, I fail at almost all of them. Which then begs the question, "Do I have the Holy Spirit in me?" Is it possible to have the Holy Spirit for a time and then for Him to leave because of our own sinfulness? Should anyone be in a leadership position in church (deacon/elder, teacher, etc etc) while they are not exhibiting the fruit of the Spirit? 


I don't believe that lack of fruit of the Spirit at any given time causes one to lose salvation. Peter denied Christ three times (he obviously didn't have peace, or faithfulness), but yet I don't believe he lost his salvation in those moments. I do, however, believe that if we do not actively see the fruit of the Spirit in a person's life, then they have no business being in a leadership position. 


We are so quick to assume that someone has Christ in their hearts simply because they say they do. Really!? Is that genuinely common sense? If I go to England and say I am the Queen's niece does that make it true just because I say it is? 


Just because you might see character growth in an individual, it does not mean that God is working in them or through them. Do you really believe so naively, that the devil does not actively put people into our churches, our lives, our congregations, our bible studies, who do not follow God and are there only to cause destruction and dismay? Why are we so quick to ignore that this spiritual battle, the devil is a liar, cunning, sneaky, and very adept at "playing the part" so as to cause mass confusion and deception. We need to open our eyes and actively, genuinely, persistently, TEST THE SPIRITS! We choose to wear blinders that allow us to be so actively led astray. We are all like sheep. 


My heart is troubled with these thoughts. My heart is troubled because in truth, what does the fruit of the Spirit say about me? Who does God say that I am?

SAA. stuff addicts anonymous

I am filthy, freaking rich. Seriously. Honestly, so much so that it almost disgusts me. The very notion that buying a $3 toothbrush is not even a remote issue for me, means that I am considered rich in the majority of the world. When our lives are filled with boredom, I think we have much to be concerned about. When we need entertainment because we "deserve" a break, I believe there is something wrong with that picture.

In the majority of the world, food, water, shelter, and clothing (what many consider the basics of necessity in human life) are scarce. The idea of going into a clothing store and buying clothes is preposterous. The idea of having a television, a computer, the internet is so bizarre and foreign. 

When I turn on my faucet, water comes out. Have you ever fathomed what it would be like to live in a place where you walk for miles to get a jug of dirty water? Have you ever fathomed a place where you can't take a shower whenever you want to? Have you ever fathomed being someplace where the "tap" water will literally kill you if you drink it? 

We are so overstuffed with stuff in America. I know I am. When I look at my house filled with stuff...I become so disgusted. What is here that I really need? Anything? Even as I sit here writing these post, I am irritated with my grabby, sticky, self focused hands thinking about how I want more and more and more stuff! 

How do we break this addiction? Do we need to surround ourselves with environments where stuff ceases to matter? Do we need to move away from the US and embed ourselves in communities that genuinely know what suffering looks like? Do we have to suffer to grow?

I wonder how many times in the course of my life, I have become angry with my children for breaking some item in my collage of stuff. I wonder how many times I have chosen "stuff" over people or relationships. How many times have I watched a movie or been on the internet or on my cell phone, instead of being with my children, or helping people around me? Do I actively seek opportunities to serve others, or do I seek opportunities to serve my stuff obsessed self? Does my husband work to provide food, shelter, clothing, or does he work to acquire more and more stuff? 

We have prostituted ourselves out. We have sold ourselves in jobs, in time, in emotion, in vast dedication to items. To inanimate objects with little to no meaning. We are so focused on stuff that burns up in fires, blows away in tornadoes, crushes in earthquakes, taken away by thieves, destroyed by time...

We buy food we don't eat, stuff we don't use, clothes we don't wear.

I want to be better than this. I want to do more than this. I want the items in my house to have no hold on me. I want to be completely content with whether or not they fade away in an instant. I want to go back to where I was so many years ago, watching my house burn. I want to hold on to the beautiful lesson I learned from that..."stuff" ALWAYS goes away. I want to do better than what I am currently doing. 

sugary sweet

I have the world's greatest husband. Seriously. I don't just mean that figuratively or ridiculously. I am married to someone who knows how to be a man. 

My husband has never once, made me feel worthless. He doesn't take me for granted. He helps me. All the time. I think he helps me more than I help him sometimes. He supports me, encourages me, cherishes me. He makes me feel like a million bucks.

He has taught me so much about living. Despite my immensely broken self, he has never spotlighted that, or attempted to degrade me. Even when I was doing things he knew was wrong, he patiently, prayerfully, and kindly accepted me as I was, and knew I would develop and grow in God's timing, not his. He has shown me the greatest level of heavenly love. He has given me grace.

I am so thankful for him. Truly I am. Every day he teaches me something new. I am in awe of how blessed I am. I genuinely do love being with him.

Catholicism.

This week I keep feeling, tugged, pulled, something'd towards the RCC. It's a notion that confuses and perplexes me, to be perfectly honest. Not that I am against that church. Not at all. Quite the contrary. I definitely think it has a lot of brokenness and issues that need to be corrected and resolved. Truth be told, though, at the core of all things Christianity, I don't know of a single church that doesn't. In my entire life, I have never seen one church that 100% completely follows and obeys what scripture lays out.

While the RCC has some brokenness, it has an immense aspect that I have found in no other church: reverence. In protestantism, worship of God has morphed so much more into a concert, than an awesome awe inspiring, amazingly beautiful, humbling, silencing, amazing act of love towards God. It seems to be more about solo's and spotlights, than it is about who He really is and what it is that He enjoys. People have so little reverence for God. He is portrayed to be all about love and laughter, and His majesty, His fierceness, His justice, His power, are almost completely ignored...especially the presence of His Holy Spirit.

The urging towards the RCC isn't what perplexes me, it's the person connected to it that does. In all my years of loving, fighting, arguing, aggravating, and debating Catholics (including priests and one bishop), he is the only one who gets under my skin. Of our countless "discussions" he has only conceded on ONE issue (and when he did I was so shocked that it literally rendered me speechless).

The complication of him is that he is the last person on God's green earth that I would've ever expected to bring about this situation in my life. I suppose I had become comfortable in the position that no one was smart enough, capable enough, quick thinking enough, or fierce enough to take me on. I am an intense person to discuss theology with. I will not be comforted, nor resigned to wishy washy, "good feeling" religion and if you can't back up what you say, I'm genuinely not interested. Did God create him for the purpose of calling my family? Is that merely coincidence or divinely all laid out?

What do I appreciate about him? Truthfully, his compatibleness. He is capable of holding his own against me. I value that, honestly, I think more than anything else. I am a fast talker, a fast thinker, and I know how to argue. So is he. I honestly don't think there is another person on this planet capable of taking me on, aside from him. I have never met a person like him.

I value that he is not my husband or any other romantic entity in my life. When I was dating SS, I always felt pressured, pushed, forced, and almost begged to "convert" (though to be honest, I don't like that word. Our faiths are virtually identical-protestants and catholics. I think acceptance is a better word, as the RCC is more about humbling one's self to leadership). SS desperately wanted me to be where he was so that he would never be challenged, and so that he could marry me without any sort of nervousness or guilt. With J, he has nothing to gain, nor benefit, by what I do or don't believe. It really doesn't matter to him, one way or the other. That is refreshing.

What I wonder is, when he moves on from my life, will this urging go away? Is the urging linked to his ability to fight me, or is it spiritual? Is he the cause or is Christ? His existence nags me. Is this all coincidence or providence? If it is, just coincidence, does that devoid it of all meaning and intent? If it is providence, is that a divine revelation of where I belong?

It's embarrassing to have loved Christ for so long, to have studied, to have pondered, sought, and desired for so long, and yet to still seem to know so completely little about Him. I love being the student. I suppose what I wonder is... is he trustworthy enough to be the teacher?

circus acts

I wonder at what moment in my life did the notion of all of my goals and ambitions get thrown up in to the vast array that is our atmosphere, and I decided that I wanted to join a circus. You might be asking, the circus? What is she? A trapeze artist? Nope. Terrified of heights. Seriously. If God wanted me to be up high, He would've made me taller. ;)

The notion of ever having a circus was pretty much lost on me when I was fifteen. I didn't grow up in the most delightful of circumstances. To basically fight, force, and beg your way to feeling loved and accepted, isn't my take on having a delightful childhood. Not that I am complaining about it, I believe it instilled in me a fighter pilot nature that has enabled me to withstand the most violent of adulthood experiences. I was not a hilarious child. I wasn't pretty. I wasn't graceful. I wasn't classy. I was hardcore and angry. I was hell bent on perfection. I found my acceptance in achievement (which was largely ignored), and Christianly perfectionism. Truth be told, in my family, if you weren't attempting suicide, or shagging everything in sight, or screaming louder than everyone else around you, then you didn't matter. To rebel against the "system" was what got you attention. I was way too convicted religiously to allow that in myself. I was way too focused on being perfect to allow myself to fall. 

When I was fifteen, I was diagnosed with a disorder that would make having children nearly impossible. Truth be told, I think when my doctor said it, I was relieved. The idea of creating a circus (as opposed to leaving the one I grew up in) was atrocious. Why would anyone ever want to have children!?

Perhaps this notion of being unpregnatable and my passionate abhorrence of all things birth control, I never even contemplated cautiousness in regards to conceiving a child. This is where I can say with 100% certainty, that God has a sense of humor.

The woman who was supposed to not be able to conceive (I was literally told that I probably would never be able to have a baby even WITH methods like IVF), was found to be with child...days before my brand new, fresh off the printer, licensed and armed, husband was to head on to the middle east.

The circus began...

Over the years our circus has grown from two, to three, to six, to eight... People have come and gone from our lives. Pets have come and gone. We have broken down the tent, and put it up elsewhere.

All of this leads me to wonder what my circus role is. I mean, who do I portray under the bright lights? I suppose I would be the ring leader. I make sure all of the acts are keeping up with time, looking sharp, and the crowds are entertained. A lot of people might be under the impression the ring leader is the boss, the alpha male...the top dog. However, it just goes to show how little they know about the circus. In a circus, the top dog is the director, not the ring leader. The ring leader is just another act in the grand balancing scheme that the makes up the circus whole.

I wonder how we perform in the grand scheme of things. I wonder if our circus is valuable.

Under the grand illusions of elation that seems to pour out of me, lies the experience of one very complex, and emotional woman. My imperfections are dominant and many. It always seems that no matter how intense my daily effort is, failure is often, and always, an option.

Within the scope of my two very capable and completely fallible of hands, lies a devastation that seems to only rear its ugly head occasionally...perhaps that is because I can only handle it on rare occasions.

I drove for two hours. Circling this giant city that I live in, hoping, praying, screaming, wanting this ugliness that is in me, that is me to go away. Eventually, my tired and weary eyes faltered, and I decided it would be best if I figured out a way to show my face, back at home.

I am wounded and sore. I am disgusted and embarrassed by myself. I am in loathing.

My tiny little heart has a tin cup that it's banging against the bones of my rib cage.

It always seems like the circumstances play out so that I get to experience hell on earth, and then meet some lonely, broken creature, who is where I was at some earlier point in life, and then I get this hell bent, damned frustrating, insane yellow brick road to compassion that I have to pour out on them whether I want to or not. And the ugliness of the entire affair is that life is so freaking messy and complicated and fantastic and hard, and how do you sit still on the sidelines while a perfectly wonderful human being stands super glued to their life of misery? Damn it things could be so different than they are.

Here I sit pondering all of my inabilities...all of my flaws that are flashing as bright as the sun in my face. I know who I am not. I know who I so desperately wish I could be. I wish I could bend myself, and break myself, so as to fulfill the status quo of what people think I should be. Truth is, I don't know how to remove the mar from my marrow. I don't know how to undo the blood from my veins. Where is the liberty in this? Nowhere to be found. No place to be seen.

I don't even think you understand. The depravity of my mind. I don't think you know the pressure that your damaged heart has placed on me. I am weary. I am drained.

It's so easy to pour out the "it's not fair's" all over the whole freaking world. I know that this darkness that washed over me today will stick around for a while and eventually fade away. That seems to be how the Boss likes the play the cards at His table. I suffer...alone. Always with the alone-ness. It's strange to me how comfort finds no way to my soul. Does no one in the world care enough to penetrate the pressure cooker that is my existence? Does no one see beyond their perception of this illusion?

Why do so many have the notion that the strong never fall? Why are we all either damsels or knights? Is there no in between? Can knights sometimes be damsels, and damsels sometimes be nights? Or rather can I just be me, and can you see through your own freaking need of my strength in order to permeate the skin that I wear so thickly and connect to the heart of this matter. Can you, for one time, be me?

I know the question is more ridiculous than the answer. It's a lonely place to dwell. I guess I had just hoped that I could be your knight, and you could be mine.

I am so tired of fighting off all your demons. I am tired of protecting you through the night. I wish, for this moment, that you could stay awake and fight off mine. I wish I could be damaged, and wounded, and broken. I wish I could be splintered and cracked. Or maybe the truth of it all is that I wish you could be the glue the holds me together. I wish you could understand these things without me communicating them. I wish you could perceive me well enough to reach into the thick, black, billowy clouds and promise that you won't leave me alone.

"Where was my conscience? Where was my consciousness? And what do I do with all these letters that I wrote to myself, but can not address?"

the lobster, and pretty-ness, and me.

I am not a girly girl. Seriously. I think of all people who know me, they would seriously look at me and say "Her? Girly!? HA!" I have a dominant personality and I am hardcore. I have just always been that way. I have intensely high expectations for myself, and I have pretty much expected to have the best of the best.

I was never willing to compromise. You know how guys always are about girls (unrealistic, INSANE expectations on what kind of woman they will "allow" to love them?)? ahem...that was me. Just in the male way. I was crazy high in what I demanded from a husband. That is if I would have allowed it to get that far.

Every single relationship that I was in was a settlement. Each of them had unique reasons for why I was with them: loneliness, growth, challenges, comfort, laughter, something to do...but none of them were capable of standing the test of who I genuinely was, and being able to be more of a man than my personality portrayed.

I am intelligent. I don't say that in a look at me aren't I so great? kind of way. It's simply a matter of truth. I don't think I have ever been the kind of girl that a man looks at and goes "oh my gosh I want to shag that mustang right there!" But, to be completely honest, I never wanted a man to look at me and think that ever. It always enraged me the idea of wearing make up, or jewelry, or clothing in order to "lure" a man in. In my opinion, a real man sees beyond all things external to the true nature of the woman underneath. I don't know if I actively sought out the opposite of attractiveness. I never tried to appear ugly, I just didn't give my appearance much thought, because I genuinely wanted to be loved, cherished, and cared for, because of my character, integrity, honor, and virtue, as opposed to my breasts, legs, eyes, lips, etc etc etc. I am so much more than physical appearance.

It's strange to me how the man I married appears to so many as weak. It quite honestly baffles me. I think it shows a pathetically low level of intelligence to see my husband and have a picture of weakness. To know my personality, is to know the incredible amount of intelligence, leadership, and ability that it takes to lead me. My sister told me a long time ago that I would not find happiness until I found a man that was stronger than me. To be perfectly honest, I did not "find" him. God led him to me, in every single sense of the word. Our meeting was divinely created, and our relationship has been completely 100% founded, blessed, sustained, and developed by the grace of God.

I still remember the day I was going to meet him in person (we met on the phone...long story...). Never in my life had I tried on so many outfits. I remember that I was thinking what the heck is wrong with me? I've never cared about my appearance before! I finally settled on jeans, an orange turtleneck that was my mother's when she was young (and yes, I still have it), and a cute jacket (it was really cold outside after all). I spent forever asking my roommates how I should wear my hair, if I looked good, if I should change. I remember them laughing at me, because I think they were completely shocked to see me so nervous. I knew I was going to marry that man the night I met him on the phone. Seriously. I had no idea what he looked like, but I knew. It was instantaneous. If you don't believe me, you can ask my college friends, because that night at dinner I told them all that I had met the man I was going to marry...on the phone.

I think, when it comes to ugly ducklings, the right kind of love and affection can morph them into something so completely different than what they were. I genuinely want to look nice for him. It's strange, because I really don't care about what anyone else thinks. Just him. I know that he thinks I'm beautiful. He tells me all of the time. It always seems that the parts of my body that I am most insecure about, are the one's he cherishes the most.

I am so thankful that God gave him genuine eyes. I am thankful that God blessed him with a deeper perception than skin deep. I am blessed that God laid so heavily on his heart, a desire for character so much more so than physical appearance. He is literally the greatest gift I have ever been given. I am so humbled to be his helper.