The 15.

Californians put an article in front of all their freeways: The 15; The 5; The 101… I’ve spent the last two weeks driving up and down The 15 to and from faculty orientation.  Each week’s drive sums about 15 hours. Given all of this, it’s only fitting that I title this post The 15 and update the Crenshaw household with a top 15 list.

15. The number of sermons I’ve listened to during my 30 hours of driving. Someone give me an M.Div!

14. The number of hours my mom and Craig have spent watching the Republican National Convention while I sat in HR health insurance meetings.

13. I counted 13 gopher holes in our front and back yard. I despise gophers. California prohibits killing them. You can manage them, but you can’t kill them. What if I manage to kill them?

12. Speaking of wildlife around these parts. I’m up to 12 or 13 on the number of coyotes I’ve seen roaming my neighborhood. Again, California prohibits harming these nasty, mangy, blood thirsty, protected animals.

11. This one is just a guess, but I would imagine I’ve signed up for 11 different technology websites, compliments of all of my in-service training.

10. My sweet baby boy knows at least 10 words: Bottle (that one’s his favorite); Nurse (it was his favorite word until I started orientation—sad.); Gatsby; Bath; More; Mommy; Daddy; School; Guitar; Car.

9. Feel sorry for me. I still have nine pounds of baby weight left to lose.  A few dinners ago, over Domino’s cheese pizza, Craig asked me what my plan was for losing the rest of the weight. I was a little indignant, but he had a right to ask; I talk about it often. I facetiously asked if he thought 15 hours in the car each week might help tone. Maybe I can drive up and down The 15 with one of those thigh master bars.

8. Christopher turned eight months yesterday! He’s growing so fast. I keep trying to freeze time and soak in all his baby-ness. But, alas, he keeps growing.

7. We’ve had seven days hit above 85 degrees this summer. I know that may not sound too terribly hot, but we don’t have AC, people! Sad face.

6. My sweet mommy is here for six days. She’s been watching Christopher so he doesn’t have to go to pre-school.

5. I should probably be more embarrassed than I am by this: I have eaten five cans of Gerber cheesy puffs in the last two weeks. They’re Christopher’s, of course, but I eat them all. the. time.

4. In four days, I start my Assistant Professor position at CBU. I’ll be teaching four English courses.

3. Christopher will attend three full days of childcare while I’m on campus teaching and working. It’s difficult to leave him. I suffer from an unbelievable amount of mommy guilt. But, ultimately, I think he’ll be just fine. He loves school. I love school. And when I’m with him, I am with him. I do all of my professor/PhD work at night and during his naps. 

Dear Lord, please let Christopher sleep from 7pm to 7am until he’s old enough to entertain himself without being a harm to himself. What age it that? 19? 20? 35?

2. I’ve conducted two interviews for my dissertation. Three more to go. And then about 15,000 more hours of writing. 

1. Condoleezza Rice. I’m always inspired by this woman’s poise, precision, and persuasive speeches. Rice’s was the only speech I was able to catch at the RNC, but my mom and Craig reenacted Clint Eastwood’s for me.

Alex

My sweet nephew, Alex, is home from the hospital! Thank you, Jesus.

Alex has spent about 7 months at Cook's Children's Hospital in Fort Worth receiving treatment for Leukemia. For the first few months, doctors tried to heal him with chemotherapy, but when all attempts were unsuccessful, his doctors encouraged a bone marrow transplant. Alex was given a 50/50 chance, which was significantly better than his odds of success with chemo alone.

This sweet little boy took up residency at the hospital for the majority of his third year of life. But in turn, Alex has taken up residency in the hearts of so many. He has been unbelievably loved and covered by his family and a large community. This kiddo has a prayer network rivaling anyone or cause with which I am familiar. He has been prayed for during church services, at the Ft. Worth rodeo, at blood drives-- you name it. It is humbling to see the way the Lord is using his story.

Alex still has a way to go before he's in the clear. In fact, although he's going home, he'll have weekly doctors' appointments, more if there are complications. Alex is beating cancer! This little guy is going to have an amazing testimony to tell.

Alex gets a visit from his pastor, Rick Atchley.

 The Ft. Worth community pulls together for blood drives.

Rodeo star, Tuff Hedeman, comes to visit.

Bike ride'n around Cooks.

Alex's going home party

Alex's pastor gave a prayerful shout out to Alex on Sunday.
http://www.thehills.org/files/podcasts/20120825-9-Where_Always_Is_Heard-web.mp3

Photo Post

I’m going back to work.

Christopher is going to part time preschool.

Craig is going to learn a whole new meaning of partnership. ;)

We’ll let you know how it goes!

Just One

I scrub the last bottle. I wash the last little ring that fits between the bottle and the rubber nipple, that one little component purposed to prevent milk from leaking. I set it to dry on the rack next to Christopher’s various feeding paraphernalia. As I dry my hands on the last unused dishtowel, my eyes rest on the sun setting just behind the hills outside my kitchen window. It is a rare moment of indulgence, and I permit myself to become lost in the magnificence of the orange-red-blue sky. There is such splendor in watching the sun retreat from the day and give way to the lull of an evening sky.

I stand thinking about the yellowy sun dipping into the cool, wide-open ocean. How beautiful the sunset is from the shoreline. I think of all the sunsets I’ve ever known and how each is unique in its own right. The ones setting in big Texas skies over fields after a rainstorm. The sunsets in Boston from atop Craig’s downtown office that cast a golden glow over the entire city and made it easy to see why the land was ordained a city on a hill so long ago. I think of the sunsets in Uganda; the ones where shadows of giraffes and hippos and wildebeests touch that precise spot that the sun met the grasslands. I muse for a moment over how only a creative Creator could design each unique sunset. Just one unique sunset at a time.

Craig’s call to join him on the back patio halts my gaze. He sits sipping a glass of white wine near an empty chair and an untouched glass, both meant for me. Faithful husband sits with his laptop propped up on his knees, and he crunches away at the budget. From my vantage point near the sink, I see just one opened spreadsheet with itemized lines for life’s expenses: taxes, tithe, childcare… For my sake, he’s trying to make it work. In honor of the burden on my heart, he is doing his best to support yet another cause.

Last month, I came to him with information regarding a sex-tracking organization, in hopes that we could find a little room in the budget. “But this one is different,” I implored. “The other organization fights for women’s freedoms. This one teaches them vocational skills.”

Last week it was the San Diego humane society. “But, Craig, just look at these poor puppies!” And then there was, “Honey, can’t we give our friends just a little bit of financial support toward their training school tuition?”

I’m a bleeding heart. Craig is a patient man. I wish I had endless access to finances to help heal hurts and meet others’ needs. I don’t believe it’s the government’s job; I believe it’s mine. And it’s yours, too. But our finances our limited, mine and yours. The need overwhelms me sometimes.

I’m no saint. In fact, I’m pretty darn selfish at my core. I like my stuff— my car, my cute home, my teacher clothes, my cushy vacations— just as much as anyone. But more than knowing what I like, I know what I don’t like. I don’t like to see people hurt. I don’t like to see people in need. I’ve been there. Oh, how I’ve been there.

I know what it is to be that little girl who watches her daddy walk out the door, choose another woman, and never come home. I know what it feels like to fill that emptiness with other loves, loves that leave the heart emptier. I know the struggle of paying for my first car and college and a wedding with very little assistance. I know the heartbreak that lingers long after the loss of a dream, the kind that comes in the form of a miscarriage. I know the pain of wrestling with the Lord and choosing my rebellion instead of His holiness. Oh, how I know.

But I also know how good it feels when someone loves me, forgives me, carries me, shares with me in Jesus’ name. I know how healing it is when people share their cup with a stranger and bind up the broken hearted in Jesus’ name. Oh, how I’ve been there, too.

So, I sip my white wine and rock. I wait for Craig to look up with an answer. His eyes are so serious, so unlike him. There is little evidence in his demeanor of the light-hearted, goofy natured man I married. He is taking seriously the things I take serious. Thank you, Jesus, for this man.

He stops moving budget lines around, sips his glass, and looks out at the sunset. Then he looks to me.

“Just one.” There is disappointment in his voice, which is why I know I can trust his words.

I think for a moment. There is nothing else to say except,

“Okay. Just one. And thank you.”

And I pray.

Lord, thank you for this one little girl in Uganda who will be covered by our contribution. Thank you for Compassion International. Thank you for her mom or dad or aunt who signed this little girl up for the program. 

I pray you send just one person who will tell her she is beautiful and worthy and that her life matters. Just one person who will fight for her innocence, shield her from exploitation, and protect her from evil. Just one person who will invite her to sit and warm herself by the fireside of Truth. I pray for just one person who will unlock the chains of poverty by way of an education and vocational opportunity. 

Lord, thank you for the portions you’ve given me. Teach me what it means to be a generous giver. Should we earn more income in the future, show us what it means to increase our standard of giving before we increase our standard of living.

I look again at the sunset. Although the colors appear a little different from the back porch than they do from the front kitchen window, the sky’s incalculability humbles me all the same. It is the same big sky over Boston and Texas and Uganda, but on my porch, I see just this one view. And it is beautiful.

Lord, for tonight, let just one be enough.

(If you'd like to give to just one kiddo in need: Compassion)

Confession: People who...

A few nights ago, when the little one finally went to sleep, Craig and I sat down to a late dinner and a round of “People Who…” He made the game up on the fly, and he didn’t really preface the game with any stipulations. He said simply that he wanted me to think about things that annoy me, like when people do this or that or say such and such.

So I thought for a few seconds. And then I said,

“I can’t stand people who advocate a pro-choice stance and cloak their advocacy in the name of women’s rights. They are some of the same people who have never visited an orphanage or given substantially to help orphans flourish.

I can’t stand people who fight for gay marriage but do nothing to fight for the freedoms of those enslaved in sex-trafficking.

I can’t stand people who circulate combative Facebook postings and then congratulate themselves on their contribution to humanity. Circulate, fine. And then DO something. 

Man, I really can’t stand people who are so hell-bent on championing philosophical causes that they miss the practical; they miss what really matters. I mean, faith without works is dead.”

Craig stared at me blankly for a moment before responding,

“I was going to say, ‘I can’t stand people who leave their shopping carts near cars instead of returning them to the designated spot.’”

Well, there's that, too. We all have our pet peeves, I suppose!

#fireballmuch? #guiltyofafew?

Why "love” alone doesn’t “win.”

I hear a lot of people throw around the phrase “love wins,” and to be perfectly honest, I’m not sure what they mean by that. It’s possible that those who shout the mantra through the halls of Facebook or from bumper stickers are intentionally espousing Rob Bell’s theology, which is essentially the belief that Jesus isn’t the only way to God. (Jesus is just, like, the VIP way or something.) Maybe “love wins” is a humanistic catch phrase intended to undermine the righteousness of God and exalt the goodness of man. (Pause for awkward call to the carpet.) Or perhaps it’s just a trendy, culturally reflective idiom indented to make everyone feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Whatever “love wins” is supposed to mean, I’m really unsure; but this I know for certain: Love without Truth is disingenuous and deceptive; Truth without Love is divisive and damning. And without Jesus, both are dangerous.

Tough Love

Here’s the thing: I don’t believe love always wins, at least not in the distorted, postmodern “my truth is my truth-your truth is your truth” kind of way our culture likes to call love. In fact, the Bible offers a slew of examples where Jesus stepped on some toes, hurt a few feelings, and called several people out. And then there’s Old Testament God. The God who wiped out cities and people and made His chosen children follow so many rules. What do we do with that?

Culture may encourage people to believe that Jesus never judged, never set boundaries, and never called people out. But that’s simply not true.

Take, for instance, Mark 11 and John 2 when Jesus encountered moneychangers in the temple and a righteous anger overcame him. He was disgusted by the lack of reverence these people had for such holy ground. So what did Jesus do? He made a whip. Scripture doesn’t say he snatched a whip from a passerby; it doesn’t insinuate Jesus already owned a whip or that his disciples provided him with one. Rather, Jesus took time to make that whip. He set aside time to sit and reflect on whether or not he really wanted a table flipping, harsh word-spewing tirade to go down in history. And he chose yes. He chose righteous anger. I am willing to put big bucks on the odds that these moneychangers did not feel a “love wins” kind of love that day.

And lest you think Jesus’ outburst was provoked only this once, I think it prudent to mention some theologians believe the incident in Mark and the one in John were actually two separate occurrences. Which would mean two things: first, disobedient people (that’s all of us) are slow learners, and second, Jesus used anger as a means of rebuking unrighteous behavior. Why? Because Jesus is more concerned with our holiness than our happiness. Because Jesus wants us to understand that when we pursue holiness we are pursuing happiness. And because tough love is still love.

Swindlers in the temple courts were not the only people to receive Jesus’ tough love. Jesus told his disciples they had little faith when they feared for their lives during a storm—ouch. Can you imagine leaving friends, family, and vocations to follow a man around the Middle East and then that very man tells you to stop your whining and get some more faith? Jesus also called Peter out on a sin Peter had not yet committed. Jesus said something along the lines of, “You’re totally going to deny me. Three times actually. But I still love you.”  

Mary and Martha experienced Jesus’ tough love after Lazarus’ death. Jesus was slow to arrive in Bethany, and when He finally arrived, three days too late, he did not come bearing flowers, a condolence card, or even comforting words. In fact, he reprimanded Mary and Martha by saying, “I am the resurrection and the life. The one who believes in me will live, even though they die; and whoever lives by believing in me will never die. Do you believe this?” And later he reasserted, “Did I not tell you that if you believe, you will see the glory of God?”

Clearly, in this passage, Jesus is not modeling a “Love Wins” love. This is “tough love” Jesus. This is “I have a plan that’s better than yours” Jesus. We know this to be true because scripture explicitly says He loved Lazarus and that “Jesus wept” over his death. Maybe He wept because of Martha and Mary’s doubt; perhaps He was overcome by their grief. Whatever the reason, Jesus displayed his love in stern words and tears. Jesus didn’t always cry when He rebuked, but he always loved.

Then there’s the story of the Samaritan woman at the well, the one with five husbands. I cannot read the story without cringing just a little. For starters, scholars believe Jesus did not have to go through Samaria to get to Northern Israel. Like every other Jew, He could have taken the path along the eastern banks of the Jordan and avoided Samaria altogether. But He didn’t. He chose the path less traveled, so to speak, because He went looking for this woman. Jesus purposed his steps in order to find the lost sheep, point out her sins, and encourage her to live a more righteous life. And how does he encourage brokenness, repentance, and conversion? He totally calls her out. He asks her to bring her husband, and when she says she doesn’t have one, Jesus says, “You’ve had five husbands, and the man you’re living with now is not your husband.” (Cue wincing now.)

Jesus called to light the darkness lurking in the Samaritan woman’s past. He did it for the purpose of setting her free from bondage. And it works. Maybe not immediately, because she challenges His authority with some theological question, one beyond my understanding, about where it’s most appropriate to worship God. Yet, within the same conversation, she juxtaposed two truths--I am a sinner and this holy man is offering me cleansing water. She recognized her need for a savior. The Samaritan woman’s worldview is challenged by Truth. And what else can one do when faced with the reality of man’s depravity and God’s holiness? She accepted Jesus as Lord. With abundant jubilation and celebration, the woman ran into town to share the good news.

There are other examples of when Jesus loving passed judgment that come to mind; the story of Mary Magdalene is one of them. In this passage, we tend to emphasis the grace component, which I believe is the banner theme of the story.  However, when we focus exclusively on the “he without sin cast the first stone” part, we tend to lose sight of the passage’s lynch pin. We let Jesus’ forgiveness overshadow His call to righteousness: “go and sin no more.”

Our culture thinks it too judgmental to call sin “sin.” But it was Jesus who said we could judge a tree by its fruit. How, then, can we discern good fruit from bad fruit without judging? Calling Christians to a standard of biblical righteousness is not the same as judging a person’s salvation. That sort of judgment is scripturally forbidden. Speaking from experience, I sure wish there had been people around when I was in my early twenties who could have lovingly said, “Hey, knock that crap off. The Lord has a better plan for you.”

Grace-filled Truth

I like what Tim Keller recently wrote in reference to the importance of applying apologetics (the deep understanding of scripture) and faith. He writes, “There will be no joy in the grace of Jesus unless people see they're lost. Thus a gospel-shaped apologetic must not simply present Christianity, it must also challenge the non-believer's worldview and show where it, and they, have a real problem.”

Nonbelievers and believers alike, we’ve all become quite cavalier with Jesus’ righteousness, and we choose to focus instead on how loving He was. We’ve traded pursuing God’s holiness for accepting cheap grace, and then we label it “love.” We’re so quick to throw around phrases like, “don’t judge me” or “that’s just where I’m at.” And we convince ourselves that our choices are just fine because after all, God is love and Love Wins!... right?

So we don’t judge. We don’t even “tolerate” anymore. Instead, we support. We rally around others’ hurts. We affirm people that they are a whole and healthy person, that there is nothing wrong or lacking about their life. And Truth gets lost in the shuffle. But how loving is it to give people half truths? How transformative it that kind of love?

Maybe you’ve heard people define justice, mercy, and grace along these lines: Justice is getting what we deserve; mercy is not getting what we deserve; grace is getting more than we deserve. Grace is what sets people free from bondage. Not condemnation—never condemnation.

By the time I reached my early twenties, I had lived so much life, and the baggage I carried as a result was heavy and burdensome. I had been hurt by people I should have been able to trust and by places that should have offered refuge: father figures who were not faithful; father figures who walked out; a single mother coping the best she knew how; a church that failed to teach me how to bask in God’s grace. But some of my baggage was self-induced, and for that I take ownership: pride, rebellion, entitlement, mistrust for authority, I could keep going... I was and am and will always be a messy wreck. But I now know where to run for refuge and cleansing. Because I need more than Love. I need a Savior. I need Grace.

Grace is the kind of love that covers a multitude of sins. It calls us a biblical standard of righteousness while simultaneously extending love. Grace encompasses both truth and love, and it is grace that prompts hearts to holiness. Ultimately, Grace is what wins.

Winning

If I’m correct in my assumption that “Love Wins” implies that Jesus is and was and always will be an all-accepting softy who would never condemn anyone to Hell, well, then that’s nothing short of blasphemy.

People of all faiths and no faiths have to reconcile that Jesus says of himself in John 14:6, “I am the way, the truth and the life. No one gets to the father except through the son.” Is there any other way to interpret this verse other than “hey, sorry, but I, Lord Jesus, am the only way to Heaven” ?

That Jesus is the world’s only eternal savior is reiterated in John 3:16, which states, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only son. Whoever believes in Him will not perish but have everlasting life.”

Also in John, Jesus says, "God is a Spirit and they that worship Him must worship Him in spirit and in truth." 

Jesus’ disciples got it. In Acts Peter and John are asked by Sadducees by what power they are able to perform healing miracles. Peter and John are embolden by the Holy Spirit and proclaim that it is in the name of Jesus Christ, for there is no other name by which men can be saved. Salvation is found in no one else.

Non-Christians and nominal Christians often say that Jesus was a really good teacher, a role model for sure, and they choose to focus solely on those facets of Jesus. This perspective makes Jesus out to be a really nice guy who walked around loving everyone, judging no one, and handing out free health care (as I recently read in the caption on some polemical cartoon in support of Obama Care).

I like what C.S. Lewis has to say about acknowledging the divinity of Christ. To paraphrase, Lewis says that if we are going to lay claim to Jesus being a good person or a good teacher, then we have to accept that He is Lord. Jesus says he is Lord. Jesus says He is the only way to the Father God and Heaven. If Jesus isn’t Lord, if He isn’t the only way to Heaven, then He’s either a lunatic or a liar. And if He’s a lunatic or a liar, then He is without question a false teacher and not someone worth emulating. But he can’t be all three. So I’m going with Lord.

I haven’t read Rob Bell’s book, so I can’t speak Bell's intention, only our culture's. I’m sure in addition to all the Love and Winning there’s probably some good Truth in his book. Although, it’s certainly worth asking the question: if something is mostly true, does that still make it Truth? But honestly, this isn’t a critique of Rob Bell or his book or even the silly Love Wins bumper sticker.

No, the issue at hand is far bigger than that.  As the body of Christ, as the church, we need to challenge the perpetuated misconception that an all loving Jesus will always make us feel good about ourselves. The truth is: Truth doesn’t always affirm us; it doesn’t always make us feel loved. But our obedience to Truth always produces fruit.  

Love is what draws people to Christ. Truth is what sanctifies us. Grace is what saves us from ourselves.

God designed it. Jesus paved the way. The Holy Spirit makes it possible.

Making up for lost time

My poor, neglected blog. It’s been four years since I’ve paid you a visit. You must feel so abandoned and unloved. Maybe you’ve wondered where I’ve been, what’s become of me, and whether I’d ever share any of life’s events with you again. The truth is, until today, I didn’t know the answers your questions either.

Since I last wrote, my marriage grew 4 years; it’s now 9 years old— Happy Birthday, Life-Long Commitment! Craig started a new job in 2008 after he finished his MBA program at Baylor. I then started a PhD program… we’re gluttons for punishment like that. Speaking of school, we worked unbelievably hard to pay off our student loans. Between those, and tuition paid outright, we’ve paid off more than the purchase price of our first home-- crazy. In May of 2011, Craig was offered a position with a merges and acquisition company in San Diego. He couldn’t pass it up, and I was finished with coursework; so we linked hands, counted to three, and jumped headlong into the scary. Six months later we moved again, but this time just 40 miles up the road. We bought another home… only this time for 2.5x the cost of our Waco home – insane. After 4 long, difficult years of trying to start a family, an absurd amount in medical expenses, and an amazing amount of faith, we finally conceived and gave birth to a beautiful boy— glorious!  We welcomed Christopher William into our family December 29, 2011.

San Diego has been an adjustment. It’s a long way from Waco, literally and metaphorically speaking. But Craig really enjoys his job, and he feels he’s getting a good deal of experience, so this makes the process of assimilation a little easier. The 7 months I’ve been at home with Christopher have been the most purposeful, refining, life changing months of my life, and I wouldn’t trade it for any other treasure. The Lord has cultivated a nobler, worthier heart in me, one better equipped to mother my son in the image of Jesus.

And, dear Blog, this brings us up to speed. So, welcome home, pull up a chair, and dig in!