the spiritual application of kitty litter

So, yesterday I was cleaning out the litterboxes and having a hard time of it because Merry wouldn't just leave me to it.

Merry, if you don't already know, is the kitten we (read: I, against the husband's better judgment) rescued from the dim, despairing reaches of our parking lot in June. We estimate that she is now 4-5 months old -- and, as I've described elsewhere, she is a tiny automaton with fur, powered by a boundless energy source and stuck in a redundant play-eat-sleep loop.

Pippin, our five-year-old tabby, remains unimpressed with the new addition, but they both seem to enjoy chasing each other.

Anyway, as soon as I started cleaning out the litterboxes yesterday, up bounded the little automaton to investigate what I was about. As I scooped unmentionable stinkiness into a plastic trash bag, she craned her neck over the edge of one litterbox to sniff.

"I'm working here," I told her.

Ignoring me in all-too-familiar cat fashion, Merry came closer and stuck her head into the sack containing the stinkiness.

"That won't smell good," I warned.

Unconcerned, Merry investigated the contents another moment or two.

"I really don't need your help," I said.

Merry withdrew her head from the sack, clambered into the larger of the two litterboxes, and promptly pooped in it.

"I am trying to work here!!!"

But, alas, my protests were for naught. The kitten finished her toilet, made a few half-hearted scratches that didn't half cover up the mess, and raced away to find the older kitty and torment her with some game or other.

Leaving me, of course, with a fresh mess to clean up.

And that's when I thought, "This must be how God feels."

Not that I'm setting myself up as God over my cats. (Anyone who knows cats and/or God knows what a laughable prospect that would be.) I'm more like the kitten. Actually, I think we're all more like the kitten.

God cares for us. He cuddles us and feeds us and gives us a place to sleep. He talks to us and listens to us when we cry. He puts special things into our lives simply for the sheer joy of seeing us happy. He loves watching us be what we're created to be.

And he cleans up our messes all the time.

And more often than not, we humans get in his way while he's doing it.

We don't leave well enough alone. We make a mess of our lives -- and maybe we ask him to help clean it up; maybe we don't. Either way, God steps in to do what's necessary to clean up the mess...

...but we don't trust him to do it. We come back to it to see what he's doing with it. We poke and nudge and prod: Are you doing this right? We try to cover it up, even though there's really no hiding it. We stick our noses into what he's already cleaned up -- even as he tells us he doesn't need our help and warns us that we probably don't want to smell this.

And sometimes, instead of letting him finish his work, we clamber back into the situation and mess it up all over again.

______________________

Pippin, our adult cat, also gets curious when I clean out the litterboxes. She watches me carry the plastic sack to the kitty cubby; she might even jump up into the cubby so as to get a closer look. But she sits back, watching. She doesn't stick her nose into what I've already cleaned, and she certainly doesn't climb into the box to do business in it while I'm trying to work. She knows that if she just lets me finish, she'll have a nice, fresh box and won't have to smell messes again for awhile.

That, of course, is where the effectiveness of the metaphor ends: A litterbox is *meant* to be messed up over and over again. A human life, however, is not designed for continual ruin. God wants to clean up our lives for us -- and then be there to help us keep them clean.

I want to mature so I can learn to sit back and let him do it.

hinder me not

"The servant...asks Rebekah's parents' permission to take her to Abraham's son. Her family agrees to let her go, but they want her to remain with them for ten days before she leaves.

"Here is the servant's reply to this proposal: 'Hinder me not.' In other words, 'Don't quench me. She either comes now or she doesn't come at all.' The parents turn the question over to Rebekah... Her response is shocking: 'Yes, I will go.'

"Notice that it was those closest to Rebekah who were the ones who sought to hinder her the most. The same is true for you. When the Holy Spirit of God says to you, 'Come, follow Me all the way,' the choice becomes yours. But expect to be hindered.

"...What is the call to the bride of Christ at this hour? It is this: Will you leave that which is comfortable to you? Will you leave that which is familiar to you? Will you leave Chaldea so that you can enjoy the riches of Isaac? Will you allow the Spirit of God to take you to a place that you've never before seen?"

--Frank Viola,
"From Eternity To Here"


I find myself answering these questions: "Yes, yes, and yes."

thoughts on God's kingdom, based on the gospel of matthew

The kingdom of heaven is not a place.

The kingdom of heaven is the rulership of God.

Entering the kingdom of God, being a citizen of God's kingdom, means giving God control and rulership over your life. This manifests itself primarily in your relationships, which should be characterized by:

love
mercy
compassion.

This is why being a citizen of the kingdom is the only citizenship that matters.

Being a citizen of the kingdom means having a loving, merciful, compassionate attitude (behavior, speech, thinking) toward others. It means treating others the way God treats them:

with mercy, love, and compassion;
not "playing favorites" between the "good" and the "evil";
forgiving;
sacrificing self for their needs;
and being radical about it.

The church is not the kingdom.

The kingdom is bigger than the church.

The church is the people who have chosen to live in God's rulership.

God knows kids screw up

I currently don't have the mental energy to give this subject the time and analysis it deserves. So, please to be forgiving the slapdash feel of these thoughts. ;o)

I've been thinking a lot lately about this:

In the denomination in which I grew up, either I was taught, or I absorbed as though through osmosis, that mistakes and sins are the same thing.

They are not.

Sometimes, I do the wrong thing for the simple reason that I am a human being.

I am a child who has not yet acquired all the necessary skills for leading a life free from mistakes.

I understand the difference between good and evil. But sometimes, I just don't know any better than to do something. Sometimes, I just make a mistake. It's not a sin. It just wasn't the right decision.

Like I said, there's more to it than this, but that's all I have brainpower for right now.

Ending thusly:

"God knows quite well how hard we find it to love Him more than anyone or anything else, and He won't be angry with us as long as we are trying. And He will help us."

--C.S. Lewis
in Letters to Children, 6 May 1955
(Emphasis mine)

Getting Things Done, and other importantnesses

So, in the interest of bragging, I'd like to direct your attention here, so that you might ooh-aah over How Much I Have Gotten Done since the recent posting of my to-do list.

Yes, I am tooting my own horn, and I am liking it, thank you very much.

*toot*

*toot*

*grin*

I am a geek.

On a more serious note, there is something on that to-do list that I would like to report is now going better. Two somethings, actually. The first is that I have gone running twice a week for the last three weeks. It hasn't been easy--actually, it has been mostly frustrating and demoralizing as I see how much stamina I lost by not running for two months. Six running sessions, and I still can't go as far or as fast as what I was doing when I quit in November.

That's the first time I've called it what it was: quitting. I quit for two months. I hadn't been able to admit that to myself until now.

I soooooooooooooo badly want to get back to what I was doing before I quit. I had been so encouraged by the progress I'd made; it's not easy for a former heart patient to build up the kind of stamina that comes naturally to most people. And by quitting, I sabotaged myself. I tend to do that with a lot of things--too many to go into right now. But I often wonder if I subconsciously believe that I don't deserve for good to come my way, and so I sabotage myself so as to avoid the good I believe I don't deserve?

Possibly. But that is another story and shall be told another time. ;o)

Anyway, the point is that I WANT to work hard and build back up my to pre-November stamina...and then I want to go further. I am competing against no one but myself, which might make my challenge more difficult.

On the other hand, I ***looooooooooooove*** challenge. Bring it on!

The second "to-do" is that I've been listening to God a lot more lately. Things finally came to a head several weekends ago, when I found myself in so much pain--mental and emotional--that I simply had to drop everything and go to God. I'm sorry I let myself go so far that hitting rock-bottom like that was necessary. But hit the bottom I did, and from there, I had nowhere to go but up.

I don't want to go into details, because really, they're not important. What matters is that for about seventeen hours, I couldn't see or talk to anyone (except Ed, since (a) he lives with me and (b) he got to experience the full force of my emotional-fallen-apart-ness). I talked to God a lot, but I couldn't bring myself to go out and see anyone else. It feels a little weird to say, but my need to spend time with God was so great, I couldn't bring myself to attend a Sunday morning worship service. I was so desperate for God, I wanted no other humans with me, not even other Christians. I don't know if that makes any sense at all, but that's how it was.

By Sunday evening, I had regained enough peace to worship with the house church and immerse myself gladly in that fellowship. Since then, I feel as though I've started being a little more aware of God's presence in my life. My relationship with God still isn't anywhere near where it should be--but I think there is healing going on, like a medicine deep inside, working where nobody but God can see. This isn't the first time in my life that I've experienced this healing; one would think I would have remembered that there's a reason he is called the Great Physician.

Hey, remember the song we used to sing when we were kids?

"He's still workin' on me
to make me what I ought to be...
How loving and patient he must be..."

Why do we ever stop singing that song? It's a lot more relevant for adults than it is for children.

for my artist friends...

...and anyone else with whom this resonates.

An Artist's Prayer

O Great Creator,
We are gathered together in your name
that we may be of greater service to you
and to our fellows.
We offer ourselves to you as instruments.
We open ourselves to your creativity in our lives.
We surrender to you our old ideas.
We welcome your new and more expansive ideas.
We trust that you will lead us.
We trust that it is safe to follow you.
We know that you created us
and that creativity is your nature
and our own.
We ask you to unfold our lives
according to your plan, not our low self-worth.
Help us to believe that it is not too late
and that we are not too small or too flawed
to be healed--by you and through each other--
and made whole.
Help us to love one another,
to nurture each other's unfolding,
to encourage each other's growth,
and understand each other's fears.
Help us to know that we are not alone,
that we are loved and lovable.
Help us to create as an act of worship to you.

--Julia Cameron
in "The Artist's Way"

I cried when I read this.

my good deed for today

Once again, I would like to direct your attention here. I won't say anything further about this, because here is quite self-explanatory.

i'm 17 today!

Well, the day is almost over, but I thought I'd still write a brief note to say that 17 years ago today, I became a Christian! The older I get, the more I feel like celebrating this day and not putting as much emphasis on my physical birthday.

After all, why should any congratulate me on my physical birthday? I had nothing to do with it. My mom did all the work--if anyone gets goodies on this day, she should be the one! And my dad should receive congratulations as well, since without him, I wouldn't have happened, either. ;o) As a matter of fact, both my parents deserve kudos (not just on my physical b-day, but on every day of the year!) for raising me the way they did, for being better parents than I ever gave them credit for as a kid, and for showing me what it's like to have strength and faith in God through adversity. I deserve no accolades on my physical birthday. Let it all go to my parents!

And what do I want for my spiritual birthday? Just be happy with me! No matter how crazy my life gets or how down I feel sometimes, I am always happy on a spiritual level (which has nothing to do with my emotions) because I have a relationship and intimate connection with God. That's something to celebrate every day of my life! And I am overjoyed for others to be happy with me on this day.

For today, I want to celebrate that I've been with God for 17 amazing, adventurous, and challenging years. I wouldn't trade them for anything!

P.S. As a somewhat peculiar anecdote, I'll also regale you with the tale that 17 years ago today, I threw up Mexican food and passed out. The End. ;o)

just for today

Father God, just for today
Help me walk Your narrow way.
Help me stand when I might fall.
Give me strength to hear your call.

Here I am just for today.
Live in me, have Your way,
For my desire when this race is run
Is only to hear You say, "Well done!"

May my steps be worship.
May my thoughts be praise.
May my words bring honor to your name.
May my steps be worship.
May my thoughts be praise.
May my words bring honor to your name

--by Marc Schelske

i hate manipulative "christian" forwards

I've said it before (though maybe not here, I don't remember), and I'll say it again:

I HATE EMAILS THAT STATE OR IMPLY THAT I'M NOT A "GOOD CHRISTIAN" IF I DON'T FORWARD A MESSAGE ABOUT GOD TO EVERYONE IN MY ADDRESS BOOK.

I really believe that most Christians aren't thinking when they send fellow Christians emails that contain statements such as:

"Isn't it funny how you can send a thousand jokes through e-mail and they spread like wildfire, but when you start sending messages regarding the Lord, people think twice about sharing?"

or

"Isn't it funny how when you go to forward this message, you will not send it to many on your address list because you're not sure what they believe, or what they will think of you for sending it to them."

or

"Isn't it funny how I can be more worried about what other people think of me than what God thinks of me?"

or

"Jesus said, 'If you are ashamed of me, I will be ashamed of you before my Father.' Not ashamed? Pass this on ONLY IF YOU MEAN IT!!"


No, it's not funny. And I don't appreciate the sarcasm.

No, I don't send messages about God to friends or family who are decided unbelievers. Why? Because it insults them and puts a roadblock in the path of my relationship with them. This means that they become even less open to the Lord than before, because they come to see me, their only Christian example, as inflexible, insensitive, and dogmatic.

No, I am not worried about what other people think of me. But I am concerned with what they think of Jesus. And I represent him to them, so what do they think of him if I show them arrogance instead of loving understanding?

No, I'm not ashamed of Jesus. But I don't have to forward an email to prove it.

Friends, I find such messages insulting. They are not messages of God's power or the love of Jesus Christ. These messages are arrogant and counter-productive to the spread of God's Word. They play on the emotions and inspire guilt, not the fire of evangelism.

Here's another quote:

"This is the simplest test.
"If You Love God... And, are not ashamed of all the marvelous things HE has done for you...
"Send this to ten people and the person who sent it to you!
"I don't think I know 10 people who would admit they love Jesus. Do You love Him?"

Excuse me?
I think you just said that if I don't forward your email, it means that I don't love Jesus.
Excuse me, fellow Christian? Surely I didn't hear you right.

Besides, I do know more than ten people who would--and do!--admit to loving Jesus. Plenty more than ten.

These emails are blatant emotional manipulation.

If we have a fire--a conviction, not a guilt-ridden burden!--to share the message of Jesus Christ, we need to get out there and LIVE it. Just clicking "forward" isn't going to cut it, especially if the forward tells people that they're ashamed and obviously don't have time for God if they click "delete" instead.

Think about whom you're sending such a message to before you send it. Please, think before you click!

More about forwards.

another excerpt from Courtney's journal

November 11, 2004

The following lyrics are Sting’s song “Dead Man’s Rope” from his Sacred Love album. This album will never be my favorite—it’s too “techno,” too synthesized, not enough variety to suit me. But this song has really touched me deeply. Here are the lyrics, and then my comments:

A million footsteps, this left foot drags behind my right
But I keep walking, from daybreak 'til the falling night
And as days turn into weeks and years
And years turn into lifetimes
I just keep walking, like I've been walking for a thousand years

Walk away in emptiness, walk away in sorrow,
Walk away from yesterday, walk away tomorrow,

If you're walking to escape, to escape from your affliction
You'd be walking in a great circle, a circle of addiction
Did you ever wonder what you'd been carrying since the world was black?
You see yourself in a looking glass with a tombstone on your back

Walk away in emptiness, walk away in sorrow,
Walk away from yesterday, walk away tomorrow,
Walk away in anger, walk away in pain
Walk away from life itself, walk into the rain

All this wandering has led me to this place
Inside the well of my memory, sweet rain of forgiveness
I'm just hanging here in space

Now I'm suspended between my darkest fears and dearest hope
Yes I've been walking, now I'm hanging from a dead man's rope
With Hell below me, and Heaven in the sky above
I've been walking, I've been walking away from Jesus' love

Walk away in emptiness, walk away in sorrow,
Walk away from yesterday, walk away tomorrow,
Walk away in anger, walk away in pain
Walk away from life itself, walk into the rain

All this wandering has led me to this place
Inside the well of my memory, sweet rain of forgiveness
I'm just hanging here in space

The shadows fall
Around my bed
When the hand of an angel,
The hand of an angel is reaching down above my head

All this wandering has led me to this place
Inside the well of my memory, sweet rain of forgiveness
Now I'm walking in his grace
I'm walking in his footsteps
Walking in his footsteps,
Walking in his footsteps

All the days of my life I will walk with you
All the days of my life I will talk with you
All the days of my life I will share with you
All the days of my life I will bear with you

Walk away from emptiness, walk away from sorrow,
Walk away from yesterday, walk away tomorrow,
Walk away from anger, walk away from pain
Walk away from anguish, walk into the rain.

--Sting
“Dead Man’s Rope”

Earlier, for the first time, I listened to this song while reading the lyrics. I don’t know why—maybe because I’m tired, maybe because I’ve felt pressured from many sides lately, maybe because I’ve been doubting self and most people around me lately—but as I sat there, reading and listening, I started crying. The crying turned into outright sobbing, and I just sat here with tears running down my face...

...[T]hat’s what it is to walk into the Lord’s embrace. It means walking away from emptiness, sorrow, yesterday, pain, anger, anguish, from life itself. It means that all my life, Jesus will walk with me, talk with me, share with me, bear with me. And I’ve felt this way for so long: that I’m suspended somewhere, in between somewhere, heaven above me, and the past—my sin, which creates hell for me—below me. I’m waiting on Jesus to fold me to him and hide my soul forever in the cleft of the rock, protected forever from everything. I am walking in his grace, because he has saved me.

excerpt from Courtney's journal

July 24, 2005

In the rubble that is too often our office, Ed unearthed the November/December 2004 issue of 21st Century Christian, and I found the following in it which struck me as noteworthy and thought-provoking:

“Mr. C.S. Lewis…said, ‘There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal.’ We look at each other and see—what?—nothing special, just a guy, just a waitress, just a cop, just a Sunday School teacher. But Lewis rightly points out, ‘Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors,’ (The Weight of Glory).

“As we walk sleepily and distractedly through this vale of tears, we would do well to recall that these seemingly-ordinary folks all about us are in fact pretty extraordinary (and need to be treated thusly). That woman was made in the image of Almighty God. And this fellow is my brother for whom the Lord Jesus Christ died (Romans 14:15). ‘Next to [communion] itself,’ Lewis wrote, ‘your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses.’

“Things are not always what they seem.”

--from Things Are Not Always As They Seem
by Ken Durham

I say that I agree with Durham and Lewis. I say that I believe they’re right, that I believe each of my fellow humans is an immortal with either heavenly or damned potential. I say that I believe that each of my fellow humans is either an immortal horror or an eternal splendor…

…But do I live as though I truly believe this?

If I truly believed this, if I truly believed that my fellow humans are nearly the holiest objects in existence here on earth, how would this belief change my relationships? How would this belief in the holiness of humans change how I see everyone else besides myself?

Would I still mutter irritably under my breath at the guy who rides his bike on the sidewalk where he shouldn’t?
Would I still rant and rave and bluster about how that woman annoyed me and “spoiled my mood” this morning?
Would I still complain or giggle about someone when that person isn’t present?
Would I still point out a fellow human being to my friends so we can laugh amongst ourselves at how that person walks/talks/dresses?
Would I still just say whatever pops into my head when speaking with others, instead of giving a little more consideration to the effect my words are going to have?
Would I ever dare make the statement that another person deserves to die?
Would I ever dare make the statement that another person got what he/she deserved?

I’m a sinner. I deserve to die. But I’m also a child of God. So I will never get what I deserve for eternity.

If I truly comprehended all the implications of these facts, I would treat other humans, these holy, immortal beings—for better or for worse—with an attitude of sacred care. Not with irritation, anger, contempt, or belittling. But with respect. And sincere, honest, devoted, self-sacrificial love.

Can you imagine what the world would look like if only we Christians—not even anyone else, just the Christians—treated other people in this way?

Talk about changing the world.