I don’t think there is avoiding writing about our current moment. It is not often that there is something that goes on that is not universally felt.

There is tension in the air, a collective dread in the grocery stores and in our own homes. We are being told there is not much else to do but stay home, stay safe. It has made me feel like a head without a body.

Personally, helplessness is not a feeling I like to have. All I ever hope to be for people is useful. So what am I to do? What are we to do, even when it seems the safest to do nothing?

“For as in one body we have many members, and the members do not all have the same function, so we, though many, are one body in Christ, and individually members of one another.” – Romans 12:4-5

I do not believe we can be whole on our own. We are all brothers and sisters, and we need each other, especially now. In a time where we have been encouraged to isolate ourselves, it has become more apparent than ever how much I rely on the good people in my life. Thankfully, we have the capabilities today to remain connected to each other, should we choose to be.

Take advantage of our modern blessings.

Reach out to your friends.

Call them, hear their voices.

Video chat with them and see their faces.

Lean on each other, and see that joy has not left us

As a very active, involved college student, being told to suddenly drop everything you were doing, and sit at home can be quite jarring. The last thing I ever thought I would be doing during my last few months as a student would be scrolling through online assignments trapped in my parents’ house.

I thought I was going to be finishing out my last events for the Northeastern Activities Board, an organization I have dedicated most of my time to since I was a freshman, serving my community through volunteering with Big Event, or even just going out to dinner with my friends to celebrate our accomplishments.

Instead, everything I had planned, hoped, and worked for was thrown out the window in a few short days. It was a Wednesday night at the Wesley when we all found out about the Thunder game and players, the first real Coronavirus scare in Oklahoma.

We had been watching a movie with a mission group from West Virginia, whose spring break plans had been suddenly canceled and they needed something to do. We laughed off the craziness of it all, and connected in the small concerns on how our lives as college students would change through all of this. I had no idea that would be the last time I would be with some of my favorite people on campus in a place that has meant so much to me during my time at NSU.

In terms that can only be described as the stages of grief, I’ve felt it all. I was angry. Not really at anyone in particular, but just at the whole fact of it all. I was sad that so many people are hurting in the world, not just college students, but that I had to mourn the loss of getting to properly wrap up a very instrumental part of my life. Confusion in the midst of it all in ways that everything I had planned since the beginning of the year had to disappear and I just had to sit and be okay with it all.

I’ve had a lot of time to think it all over now. I’ve realized a few things; How many times have I prayed for a break? How many times have I asked God, “Please, just let it all slow down for one day so I can rest and catch up?” Now being quarantined for the foreseeable future WAS NOT what I had in mind, but I’m beginning to see the beauty of it.

When again in my life am I going to be surrounded by family with unhindered time to spend with them? I get to work on my classes at my own pace. I’ve grown closer to faculty in my degree and through extracurricular activities by bonding over the challenges of transferring online. I’ve made it a priority to connect with people more on a regular basis than I did when I only got to see them a few minutes a week on campus.

While finding rest in this time has been beneficial to me, I know that this is such a stressful time for everyone. Many people are worried about income, health of themselves and family members, and the many other issues that come in living in a time like this. As a Type-A personality at someone that likes to take charge and “do” I have found comfort in the fact there is nothing I can plan for.

Every day is new and I have to take it as is, there is no way to slack off when you are forced to sit still. My small and probably meaningless advice to you is, enjoy life on a day to day basis as much as you can. Find joy in the stories of people coming together all over the world who are fighting to save lives, find a healthcare professional and tell them thank you. Most importantly, stay inside as much as possible, enjoy your rest, and use this unprecedented time in history while the world is standing still to better yourself, lift up others, and find peace.

We serve a God who will never forsake us or leave us alone, no matter how much it feels like it.

My favorite verse comes from The Great Commission in the book of Matthew, chapter 28 verse 20, “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

These are strange times. It seems time for the Wesley foundation to reach out to the community to serve as a reminder for all of you.

We are sorry for all of those who are suffering currently to whatever extent it may be.

Everyone has been affected in some way, some more than others, and there seems to be no light at the end of this tunnel. And it is a very long tunnel. Regardless of the situation, just know that we are here to serve at the capacity we are at.

For those in need, we will do what we can within our power to help.

Please, know that you are not alone and that you can reach out to not just us, but whatever resources you may need because they are out there.

We are praying for all those who are affected.

This pandemic has tested human society, the entire world completely. It is at this point in time that we must remember that to overcome this, we must work together to minimize the negative impact. This is a team effort, and to love thy neighbor is of upmost importance in the scenario we find ourselves in. When you wash your hands, avoid large crowds, and practices social distancing with your friends and family, this is a form of loving your neighbor. This is how you look out for one another as well as yourself. This must all be done cohesively.

I can say from my standpoint that it all seems dire, and it seems to be that this is only the beginning. This needs to be said relentlessly; there is a light at the end of the tunnel. The end of this will come and our lives will return. The restaurants and movie theaters will open up again and it will be a day we can rejoice in the return of what we had. We may even be excited to return to class.

So, friends, take this as a moment to realize you are not alone, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, and try to use this moment to appreciate the small things. Know that we must cherish what we have because it can easily be taken away by something out of our control. Psalms 91 says “whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadows of the almighty”. Take refuge in the lord. Trust in yourselves and others on this perilous journey. These are strange times, but you are never alone.

For those in need or who want to donate where they can:

https://www.charitynavigator.org/index.cfm?bay=content.view&cpid=7779

I recently went to my first funeral. It was not anyone I knew, I was asked to handle the slide show by my pastor at the church where the funeral was being held. I was very reluctant at first. I took the majority of the day he asked me to answer the request because I was quite anxious to go to my first funeral, something I felt I had been lucky enough to avoid all of my life.

I expected funerals to be like in the movies; very melancholy, dark, gloomy, and maybe even a little ominous. I figured though that it would only be an hour of easy work, I would get paid and the church needed somebody to do it.

Even though it was a relatively small task to press the next button on a keyboard, I figured I could serve my church this way even if it was only a little bit of work.

I swallowed my fear the morning of the funeral, clad in a black shirt and pants as I thought would be the attire of such an event. Upon walking through the doors, I was quite surprised. There was much talking and even a little bit of laughter coming from the attendees of this funeral. People were not wearing black colors, excluding the two pastors and the funeral service director. Within ten minutes of the actual funeral proceeding the atmosphere robbed me of any anxiety I had at that moment. I read the obituary, and the individual (whom will remain unnamed) had written it themselves.

It was a beautiful story of this person reminiscing on their life lived the way they wanted to and the sights they had seen and the experiences they had gotten to enjoy in their long and fruitful time among us. In a single moment, when we were all singing Amazing Grace, one of my favorite religious songs, it dawned on me that while it was a time for mourning of this individuals passing, it was more importantly a celebration of life.

When I left the church and headed home I brought back a lesson with me. I was awarded by god through doing this small favor for my church and stepping out of my comfort zone. I brought back an enlightenment that has further evolved with this question, “before I die I want to what?”.

I still only have vague answers for it, but I know I want to do something suited for me in the same capacity that the individual whose funeral I had attended had done. To quote a small, laminated poster on my math teachers podium in the eighth grade, “When I stand before God at the end of my life, I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left, and could say, ‘I used everything you gave me’”. Through a quick google search, I found the individual who spoke this quote was Erma Bomback.

So, in the same theme as the boards now posted in Second Century Square, I have a lot of answers. They can all be encapsulated into this; before I die, I simply want to live my life to the fullest. To fulfill this insanely broad answer, I have to graduate college, travel overseas, fulfill my tenure in the army, start a family, and answer my call to serve God’s kingdom in whatever capacity God would have me, the same way unlikely candidates like Moses and Paul did.

I want to do a plethora of things before I die, many I know I want now and will want later. I am sure many of my peers and whoever is reading this feels the same way. I want to look back on my life with a big smile and justify its celebration to myself when I do die.

I can only imagine this is what God intends for us all.

It’s fascinated me for a long time now that every major culture has or had a religion, or at least some sort of spiritual philosophy. Some kind of explanation for why we are here, why the world is the way it is, whether it’s explaining winter by way of the story of Persephone and Hades or that cows are gifts from Iat, the ancient Egyptian goddess of milk (the Egyptians sort of overdid it with the specificity of their pantheon, in this writer’s opinion).

However, it goes beyond the desire for knowing the way the world works.

We as humans have instilled in us a deep need for connection, not just to each other, but to something greater than ourselves. We are vessels, lightning rods of spirituality, if you will, and that is why loneliness can be such a cold weight in our lives. This is the bane of my generation, and it’s a great irony.

The world is more connected now than it has ever been here in the digital age, but as a result is so much smaller, and easier to only see unkindness and a lack of warmth. We are compelled to only present the best version of ourselves, both online and in person. Even myself, right now as I write this, can’t help but to consider this piece being shared on social media and am therefore spending long stretches of time considering every sentence, as to uphold any reputation I might have of being someone who can string together a coherent thought without sounding like a moron.

It is that fear that holds us back, that makes us lonely.

I encourage you to take a look at your life and see if you are allowing fear to get in the way of being who you are in God. I’ll start- I’m not even going to edit this piece, even though sometimes I think faster than I write and this ends with sentences that are long and rambling and hard to follow but that is okay.

Did this blog start like it was going to be a reflection on the consistent presence of spirituality in every culture but ended on a weird rant over individual loneliness?

Yeah, I guess that’s what happened, but here I am.

And here you are, at the end of it.

Look at us, connecting.

Perhaps my point is in need of some summarizing: We’re all messes in some way.

It’s fine.

Don’t be afraid of your perceived flaws, learn from then. You’re far from alone. If you want Biblical proof to back that up, trust me, God makes it quite clear that He is always with you (though if you super want specific verses, try Deuteronomy 31:6 and Matthew 28:20, to name a couple).

All right, I’m coming up on 500 words, so I’ll duck out.

Thanks for reading.

You’re great.

There is a certain stigma that plagues the church that has been conveyed by the emerging generation. Many would say that this stigma is well-earned and deserved.

Many in my generation have used a plethora of familiar words to describe the church: judgmental, hypocritical, homophobic, racist, hateful, and critical among many other words. Many in my generation have been shunned and ostracized for not having a strong enough faith and being full of sin to the point in which they have turned their back on the church altogether.

I was in that same boat.

I was always a believer in Christ, but not always a follower. I was spiritual, but not religious. I believed but had no one to believe with because I was angry at how my home church had treated people outside of their close-mindedness. I held onto that grudge until it became a crutch to me and my relationship with God. I still remained a believer, but my mind was broken from being told I was not good enough, and I was a sinner.

However, I grew older and went through many spiritual crisis’s, that lead me to try again with myself and God and experiment with different denominations which were most of the time hit or miss. It was not until I went to college that I found United Methodism. I am not saying that it is the answer for everyone, I just learned the doctrine and it spoke to me more than anything else has before.

I tell this story to let everyone know that turning your back on the church is not the answer, and that it is OKAY to be a sinner. A church is out there waiting for you with open arms eager to transform your life. I wore the guilt that I allowed my home church to put on me as I know so many others do, and it took a lot of courage for me to let go and try again.

It payed off however and I know in my heart that it can for you, whoever you may be, as you are caught between the pain of being guilted by your neighbors and the love of God. To all of you feeling that way, I am sorry the church has failed you.

I am sorry that you are feeling this way, but please seek out redemption from guilt.

Be found again.

If nothing else, know this: you are loved, not only by God but by me and the many others who have embraced me as the sinner I am at my own church.

Know that the church is for everyone, not just the saints, it is specifically for the sinners just like Jesus had surrounded himself with so many years ago. It is for sinners just like you and me.

Do not think you are not good enough; do not sell yourself short.

There is plenty of room in God’s kingdom, you just have to let yourself be found again.

When I was in middle school, specifically 7^th grade, my group of lunchtime friends included a girl named Kelsey Tennant. We weren’t particularly close, but her bright eyes and sharp wit made her a welcome addition to the sass masters I sat with at the lunch table. After 7^th grade, Kelsey and I did not keep in touch in any meaningful capacity.

In March 2017, I found out over social media that Kelsey had been strangled to death in her apartment by a man who had broken in. She was nineteen. The thing that stuck in my mind the most was how physically small Kelsey was. Her aggressor could have easily been twice her size. He could have easily gotten away without resorting to murder. It all seemed needless.

I have not been a stranger to death throughout my life. I have lost several family members and friends to sickness, addiction, murder, and accidents. It can loom over me. I often think of the people outside of my personal social circle who have been lost, such as the five NSU students who died in a car crash and the innocent people gunned down on the streets of Vegas. It is a lot to live on this earth, and it is easy to feel powerless to be a force for good.

And yet. And yet.

“Finally, brethren, whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praiseworthy- meditate on these things.” – Philippians 4:8

In my profile on the Wesley’s website, I list the simple phrase “choose joy” as advice I would pass on to fellow students. I feel like this phrase is not always popular, in the implication that choosing joy is as simple as choosing joy, that those who suffer depression cannot flip a switch on their mental health and “get better”. I agree with that sentiment.

But that is also not what I mean when I say “choose joy”, because I believe that joy is different from happiness, not unlike how depression is not sadness, but rather the lack of feeling. Happiness and sadness, they are emotions; they come and go and change with the seasons. But joy is something that is in you. And it is in me. When I am feeling it, I feel it course through my veins and swell in my chest and fill my lungs with laughter. That is the idea behind Philippians 4:8. If God is in you, then joy is in you, because God is joy (I think they call that the transitive property in math).

Joy, like so many spiritual concepts, is a muscle. If you do not take care of it, do not exercise it and do not take in the proper things, it becomes weak. I encourage you to find whatever things that are beautiful. Submerge yourself, and your joy will be strong as iron.

One of our most important pillars in Christianity is to forgive others as God forgave us, to summarize Colossians 3:13.

So important, in fact, that in order for God to forgive our sins we must also forgive anything we have against anyone (Mark 11:25). Our entire faith is based on the acceptance that we are human and therefore imperfect and need God’s grace and forgiveness in order to separate ourselves from our imperfections until we are eventually completely free.

So, it is vital that we understand forgiveness and what it truly means for us as Christians.

Something I hear a lot in sermons about forgiveness is that forgiveness is “for you, not for them”, the point being that holding a grudge is ultimately more harmful to the wronged than the wrongdoer, and forgiving and letting go is the way to be free of the emotional power the wrongdoer has. I agree with this.

However, I still believe there is a fundamental misunderstanding of what forgiveness entails after the fact.

We are not God; we do not have the ability to wash away sins, plain and simple. That is the difference between our forgiveness and His. This is precisely why we hear forgiveness is, again, “for you, not for them”. This is important because it is in opposition to what is at times expected of the Christian community. That we should be unconditionally, absolutely, totally forgiving.

But there is a line, isn’t there? There is no question that toxicity is present in people. Generally, I prefer to see the good in people. Life is hard and unfair and emotions are difficult to sort out and I do my best to be an encourager.

But there is a line, isn’t there?

People will take from you, tear you down, suck you dry, leave you for dead. Learn to know what that looks like. Forgiveness is shedding the power someone has over you. Sometimes that means shedding the person themselves.

Do not be afraid to trim the fat.

They are not your responsibility.

Thank you.

 

    1 Why are you so far from helping me, from the words of my groaning?

(Lord, hear my prayer.)

2 O my God, I cry by day, but you do not answer;

    and by night, but find no rest.

(Lord, hear my prayer.)

3 Yet you are holy,

    enthroned on the praises of Israel.

(Lord, You are holy.)

4 In you our ancestors trusted;

    they trusted, and you delivered them.

(Lord, in You alone, we trust.)

5 To you they cried, and were saved;

    in you they trusted, and were not put to shame.

(Lord, to You be the Glory.)

6 But I am a worm, and not human;

    scorned by others, and despised by the people.

(Lord, hear my anguish.)

7 All who see me mock at me;

    they make mouths at me, they shake their heads;

(Lord, grant me strength.)

8 “Commit your cause to the Lord; let him deliver—

    let him rescue the one in whom he delights!”

(Lord, in You alone, we trust.)

9 Yet it was you who took me from the womb;

    you kept me safe on my mother’s breast.

(Lord, to You be the Glory.)

10 On you I was cast from my birth,

    and since my mother bore me you have been my God.

(Lord, in You alone, we trust.)

11 Do not be far from me,

    for trouble is near

    and there is no one to help.

(Lord, quell my fear.)

12 Many bulls encircle me,

    strong bulls of Bashan surround me;

(Lord, quell my fear.)

13 they open wide their mouths at me,

    like a ravening and roaring lion.

(Lord, hear my prayer.)

14 I am poured out like water,

    and all my bones are out of joint;

my heart is like wax;

    it is melted within my breast;

(Lord, quell my fear.)

15 my mouth is dried up like a potsherd,

    and my tongue sticks to my jaws;

    you lay me in the dust of death.

(Lord, hear my anguish.)

16 For dogs are all around me;

    a company of evildoers encircles me.

My hands and feet have shriveled;

(Lord, hear my anguish.)

17 I can count all my bones.

They stare and gloat over me;

18 they divide my clothes among themselves,

    and for my clothing they cast lots.

(Lord, hear my prayer.)

19 But you, O Lord, do not be far away!

    O my help, come quickly to my aid!

(Lord, to You be the Glory.)

20 Deliver my soul from the sword,

    my life from the power of the dog!

21     Save me from the mouth of the lion!

(Lord, in You alone, we trust.)

“Lord, prepare me to be a sanctuary;

Pure and holy, tried and true.

With thanksgiving, I’ll be a living

Sanctuary for You.”

 

It’s the song most often stuck in my head, most often hummed as I work, and most often (kindly) shushed by my husband. There’s something about the hymn that sticks with me.

Though I was raised attending three church services per week, it has taken until very recently for me to settle into God’s love. My family gave me the best foundation possible, but I think grace is the kind of thing you have to experience and claim for yourself. It’s uncomfortable, to say the least, to accept (I can barely cope with someone complimenting my outfit… How am I supposed to embrace the Creator’s love for me?). It requires me to be vulnerable and to recognize that my self-deprecation is not the same thing as the mature humility needed to take God’s hand and walk, but I am beginning to understand.

As I’ve grown more comfortable taking refuge in God, I’ve felt a push. Well, sometimes it’s less of a push and more of a shove. It’s a reminder that I am not here for myself, that God does not fill my cup for me to hoard, but to serve.

I’m sure most of you have heard of the #nofilter movement? The concept: followers on social media platforms are given a glimpse into the barefaced, authentic reality of another person. It’s similar to #nomakeup in that it seeks to dismantle the destructive ideals usually represented as the norm on social media. It’s a reminder that everyone is human and, therefore, flawed.

Sometimes, while I’m busy praising myself for coming to God with “no filter”, I forget to empathize with those who come to me exposed, raw, and honest.

I sidestep the anxious.

I brush off the upset.

I internally criticize what I see as oversharing.

And I fail to consider until convicted how hurt I would be if God viewed me that way. If my God wished to hold me at an arm’s distance, or held back cringes, or rolled Their eyes at my problems.

So I’m calling on the Lord to prepare me to be a sanctuary, to make me an instrument through which those who need can find refuge.

Prepare my cup to pour out daily.

Turn this little light of mine into a candle in the window.