chivalry is not dead

For all you haters out there: Chivalry is not dead. There are, in fact, young men out there longing to honor and respect women. I just talked to a couple of them.

Some of our students stopped by the office this afternoon to hang out. As conversations with young men this age are wont to do, the topic turned to relationships. It's a common topic around here; a female student recently passed along to me an article on gender roles, which has also inspired some good conversations. Our guys especially are so tender-hearted, so intentional. They want to do right by the women in their lives - you can see it in their eyes and in the way they ask their questions. It's absolutely heartwarming.

One asked what it looks like to lead spiritually in a relationship. Another wondered about asking for permission to date a girl from her father. They want to be respectful. They want to be chivalrous.

As a woman, it's encouraging to hear their questions and thoughts. I feel like some might grow discouraged by the stereotypes of our generation. Of men who use and abuse, who physically or emotionally exploit, who won't commit. But these young men are a different kind, and will likely become absolutely standup men, husbands, and fathers of honor someday. How refreshing!

As their sister in Christ, and something of a spiritual mentor/encourager, it was also a neat teaching moment to tell them of my own experiences with godly, chivalrous men. They were genuinely interested to learn what a God-honoring relationship actually looks like, how it's fleshed out; what a privilege to tell them of my own and what a blessing it's been.

To the young women I know, take heart. God is building up a generation of young men who are tender warriors, firm in their cause and resolute in their purpose. The question remains: are we a generation of women who can respond with gentleness and graciousness to the chivalry they offer?

on being preachy

In all honesty, I'm a bit at a loss for content on this blog. I don't live or teach in Nigeria anymore, I don't feel like my day-to-day life is all that interesting, and I don't know how well my friends and loved ones would like it if I started writing about them. Also, I don't have a cute kid to write about, or the adventures of being married or owning a house to draw on, like some of my other blogging friends.

What I do have though, is a big God, who condescended to save tiny insignificant me. And if my relationship to Him and with Him is all I can think to blog about, well then: That's all there was to write about in the first place.

I worry some about getting a bit preachy. Then I worried more about the connotations of being preachy. Then I worried less, because I figured as long as I'm preaching the right thing, I can be okay with being preachy. Then I worried some more because holy interwebs, Batman: am I preaching the right thing?

So I pulled out the dusty old Bible concordance biblegateway.com and searched the term preach. (Sometimes, in my head, I imagine that this blog is my tiny pulpit and these posts are my tiny sermons. So it makes sense in my head to go to biblegateway.com for these things.)

Here's what I found (emphasis mine):

• 2 Corinthians 4:5 "But what we preach is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servant for Jesus' sake."
• 1 Corinthians 1:18, 23 "For the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing, but to us who are being saved it is the power of God...but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles."
• 1 Corinthians 15:1, 12-14 "Now, brothers and sisters, I want to remind you of the gospel I preached to you, which you received and on which you have taken your stand... ¹² But if it is preached that Christ has been raised from the dead, how can some of you say that there is no resurrection of the dead? ¹³ If there is no resurrection of the dead, then not even Christ has been raised. ¹⁴ And if Christ has not been raised, our preaching is useless and so is your faith."
• Philippians 1:15-17 "It is true that some preach Christ out of envy and rivalry, but others out of goodwill. The latter do so out of love...The former preach Christ out of selfish ambition, not sincerely...But what does it matter? The important thing is that in every way, whether from false motives or true, Christ is preached. And because of this I rejoice."

I preach a gospel of grace, to myself as much as to you. I preach Christ, God incarnate, being crucified and raised from the dead. Whether I preach Him to boost readership, whether I preach Him to remind myself of his grace, whether I preach Him to reflect glory and honor back to Him, I preach Him.

Christ.

Alone.

on inadequacy, projects, and calling out elephants

There's a phrase we used in Nigeria: "I will deal with you ooo." It's used particularly when a parent disciplines a child, but more generically, when there's a serious conversation to be had. When a person must address someone else and it's a big deal.

God has been dealing with me, you guys.

Most recently, it's been my struggle against inadequacy in all forms. Physical, professional, relational, personal, spiritual: you name it, I've battled it within the past couple weeks. Let me just tell you, inadequacy wins these mental struggles. It wins because the struggle results in me resolving to make myself better in whatever way it is - to run a half marathon, to be more holy, to listen more, to take on more responsibility at work without losing grasp on my relationships, etc. Because clearly, the goal is to become something perfect: something God, and my parents, and my boss, and my friends, and even I can be proud of. Something fantastic and phenomenal.

Then I show up for church on Sunday night, where the message is titled: "Transformed: My (God's) Masterpiece."

Oh heyyyy, God. You have my attention.

Steve Wiens from Open Door shared. I cried. It was exactly what I needed to hear. He borrowed from John Ortberg here, but these words flashed up on the screen:

Your life is not your project.
Your life is God's project.
God thought you up.
God knows what you were intended to be.

God is dealing with me ooo.

Steve called out the sin when he said that we focus on making our life--our project--acceptable to other people. Because it matters to me what they think. It becomes a full time job, he said. Because the inadequacy and the comparing myself is always there. Except that it's not my project. God is doing the work. Because I'm his project, his masterpiece. And he's not finished with me yet.

I very nearly ran to the communion table, where I knelt and surrendered my project (myself) to God. I can't do it anymore, but he is so capable. He is capable in my inadequacy and in my fears.

My best friend Laura reminded me tonight that fears are elephants in the room. My fear of inadequacy has been hanging out in the corner for far too long, growing bigger, not smaller, with each resolution I make to be better and more perfect.

So here I am, naming the elephant--Inadequacy--and stripping it of its power. I am not inadequate because I'm not even my own. I belong to Jesus Christ, my identity is found in Him, and he makes me worthy. There's a lot of power in that, and I'm going to say it until I believe it, all the way into my soul.

I told you God was dealing with me.

on the precarious, and waiting for nothing to happen

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when one part of your life starts going okay, another falls spectacularly to pieces. --Bridget Jones' Diary

I wonder if you ever play the same negative mind games as my dear friend Bridget Jones and I do.

Let me paint you a landscape: It's been a few months since something disastrous has happened (i.e. the loss of a grandparent). Things at work are pretty fantastic, opportunities on my specified career trajectory are opening up (a summer recruiting schedule is in the works), and I've developed rapport with my coworkers. The friend group I'm rooted in is growing and changing and deepening, but always--always--for the better. The church community I joined a few months ago has been ministering to my spirit and challenging me to be more intentional, more sacrificial, more Christ-like. I've even got some fun trips planned in the upcoming weeks: trips to relax and recharge, to meet new friends, and to bond with my oldest and dearest ones. In short, life is fantastic.

Which is round about the time that Bridget and I start getting on famously.

I am so guilty of finding myself in a place--a good, healthy, encouraging, loving place--and waiting for it all to fall spectacularly to pieces. As if my life couldn't possibly maintain a positive momentum for very long. Surely I do not deserve a life so full, so rich, so blessed. Surely it will all come crashing down very very very soon...perhaps even right. this. second.

What energy I must waste trying to keep all the glasses balanced on the tray without crashing to the floor. As if I were the one holding the tray to begin with.

Because really, I don't believe that nonsense. I believe that God gives and takes away, and I would choose Him over everything else, every single time. His love is better than life, even when my life is spectacular. Every single time.

It is so tempting to cling to all the wonderful things in my life, in an effort to control them and make them stay wonderful, when in fact, I just want to cling to Him instead. If I'm trying to hold on to all the pieces of my life and one piece breaks, I drop everything. But when I cling to Him and something falls, He can keep the rest in perfect balance, according to His will.

Clinging to Him means that I stay standing when a coworker of mine from Nigeria, a beautiful, vibrant, smiling twenty-five-year-old, dies from pneumonia, leaving behind her husband of two months.
Clinging to Him means that I can comfort friends who experience unexpected and painful loss, even when it happens 3 times in one week.
Clinging to Him means that I don't buckle under the pressure of added responsibility at work, or financial concerns, or even the stress of becoming an adult.
Clinging to Him does not mean that all the wonderful fantastic parts of my life will stay wonderful and fantastic. It means that if everything does fall spectacularly to pieces someday, I will still have hope.

And that hope? That's something I would stake my life on.

My hope is built on nothing less
than Jesus' blood and righteousness
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
but wholly lean on Jesus' name

the Table, communion, and why kneeling matters

Admittedly, this holiday season was the busiest of my life: balancing time with family & friends, travel, and the long-awaited launch of the college I work for. This has also been one of the richest, most meaningful Christmases I can ever remember. A lot of that meaning can be attributed to my new church community, The Table at CPC. Their celebration of Advent was both intentional and profound, and the candlelight Christmas Eve service was probably the most worshipful Christmas service I have ever experienced.

I don't know if you can have a favorite Church sacrament, but if it's possible, communion is mine. The most significant part for me is that at The Table, we typically kneel to receive the elements.

In this culture, this day and age, I am required to bow my knee to no one. Knowledge is power and money is king, and as long as I have both, it seems that I will never have to answer to anyone but myself. These are the lies my culture has sold me, and the truth is clearest to me on Sunday evenings, when I kneel in the face of absolute majesty. I kneel to remember He who took my place, and I kneel to remind myself that I am not in charge; I never was. I kneel in recognition that I give up my autonomy to belong to Jesus Christ, who paid the highest price for my freedom from the bondage of sin.

I don't kneel because I'm enslaved to fire-and-brimstone God. I don't kneel because I'm a brainless automaton who only moves when I'm instructed. I live and move and exercise my free will because of the grace of God. I make decisions and work hard and love my friends & family not because I'm forced to, but because, by God's grace, I am able. So I kneel to recognize that my ability to be a productive member of society comes from the God who made me and redeemed me, and the least I can do is dedicate the work of my hands and the overflow of my heart to His service.

In 2011, The Table will be celebrating communion each week and I am greatly looking forward to the weekly reminder that I kneel before and serve a God who knows me personally, cares about me deeply, and loves me sacrificially.