So much for authenticity.

Well, if the following information is new to you, and you feel like I should have told you in person, or should have talked to you months ago before making this decision, I'm sorry.  You're probably right.  I should have talked to you, but I had a hard enough time telling my family.  Don't take my not telling you personally, personally.
Have you ever done something that you think is good, but you know others with not approve?  Have you wanted people to rejoice with you, but you knew they would be sad.  Well, that's what I'm going through, and it's tough. 
On Saturday I was baptised at the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  That's the long way of saying that I've decided to become a Mormon.  If you know me at all you'll know that for the last 5 years I've loved Mormons but thought very poorly about the LDS church.  So, something's changed.  A lot of things have changed, the journey has been long and I won't share all of it now.  But still, you're probably asking why.  Well, I wanted to follow Jesus, I wanted to know God, and I'd seen many things in the LDS church that seemed good.  There are things about the hierarchy that do seem good to me.  I saw a lot of small things in the LDS church that were good.  Those things by themselves are insignificant, but together they amount to something.  Part of that is realising the my LDS friends are not crazy, they are not brainwashed, they are not naive, but they are living according to their beliefs, and consequently they are living good lives. They are living testimonies that the LDS church is good. 
On Sunday I was excited to be part of the LDS Church, I learned new things, felt for the first time that the Book of Mormon was good and valuable.  On Monday things were swell.  Tuesday was okay.  I told people at my college about my decision, I do not yet know if they'll let me graduate.  On Wednesday, oh, that's today, I don't feel great.  I don't feel great at all.  I wonder if I did the right thing.  I wonder if my faith will last.  I wonder if I'll end up feeling disappointed by God again.  I'm afraid.
I had a hard time telling my family.  It had me feeling stressed and sick.  I knew the news would disappoint them, and make them sad.  I don't like making people sad.  I continue to have a hard time telling people.  There are many who will disapprove.  I understand.  Not long ago I was among them, offering disapproval to those who joined the LDS Church.  Sometimes that past self haunts me.  She laughs at my baptism, calls it a joke, wonders if it really happened.
Anyhow, I'm not giving up.  I'm still going to strive to follow Jesus and be a good Mormon.  Today it's hard.  Maybe tomorrow will be better. 

To the Seed Throwers

I've been feeding crows, they're hungry, and I give into their desires so easily, that they always come back.  They pick at the seeds, mock them, and then carry them away.  Their presence brings peace for a moment, but it is as fleeting as the birds themselves.  I think about building a scarecrow, to make these birds leave me alone, but I love the birds, they're my friends, I'd hate to frighten them away.

Scatter the seeds, scatter some more; despite the crows, hopefully one grows.

The soil is rocky, I know, the ground is hard clay.  Doubt and fears abide.  Though sprouts may come, life is hard, quickly then life dies.  To clear the rocks that keep me safe is such a dangerous game.  But game it's not!  It determines my lot, and if plants don't grow, I'll erode away.

Scatter the seeds, scatter some more; despite the clay, one might find a way.

The weeds abound, and at least they flower; bud, blossom, shrivel, and their seeds give way.  Their beauty - fleeting- but still beautiful.  I cannot, will not tear them out.  The good seeds, though they try, are choked by the vines, overpowered in their shade.

Scatter the seeds, scatter some more; despite the weeds, hopefully a seed succeeds.

Resolution and my Baptism Date

My New Year's Resolution is to live up to the Robert Makee quote on the side of my blog.  I want to write bravely, and without fear.  The problem is, I tend to worry about what people think, and I fear ridicule, rejection and failure.  In making this my resolution, it might so happen that people will ask about my resolution and in so doing find out about my blog.  Then I may have more people reading my blog that is saying more courageous things.  Hopefully this doesn't backfire.  Hopefully I still have friends when this is all said and done.
I have two requests of my readers.  First, feel free to push back.  If I say something that you think is outlandish, tell me so, tell me why.  Secondly, extend some grace.  My thoughts and opinions are constantly changing, so give me the space to change my mind.  Maybe you'll push back, and I'll agree.  That's cool.  Let me think 'aloud' and shift perspectives.

That said, I thought I'd try it out.  Often I think about something for days, or weeks before it becomes a blog.  This is something I have yet to fully think about, so hear me out.

Over the past couple of months, I've been meeting with a couple of LDS missionaries.  One thing they've told me is that I've changed for the better since we've started meeting, and this is because of the Spirit.  I want to evaluate this claim.  I'd agree that I've changed, but I am not sure if it has been for the better or if the change was brought about by a superphysical presence.
How have I changed?  At the beginning of the fall semester I was feeling quite miserable.  Bible School was far from fun.  By the end, I was enjoying the social life at my school, and that made things a lot better.  I would credit that change to honesty.  While at the beginning of the year I felt pressure to conform, be a good little Christian girl, as more people found out about my lack of faith, conversations became real.  That was nice.  While that change paralleled the time I was meeting with the missionaries, it seems to be completely unrelated, caused neither by the missionaries nor by a Spirit.
Prior to meeting with the missionaries, I felt quite content with the idea that there might not be a god in this universe.  I ordered my life in such a way that I was not living for validation from a divine being.  That was going fine.  As I began meeting with the missionaries, they'd ask questions like "if there is a good God, and his Spirit could speak to you, would you want that?"  In so doing, they instilled within me a desire to know this good god.  It was a desire I once had, but after years of disappointment, I'd given up.  Why wouldn't I have given up.  But now, now I wonder, is there a good God out there?  Is it possible that I could do more good with him than without him?  Is it possible that he's Mormon?  Is it possible that he's been chasing me all these years that I've been loving Mormons?  While I can weave a nice story, as long as I know that I've made it up, it's not too meaningful.  Without knowing if there is a god, I do not know if this change is for the better.  Perhaps I'd be better of not chasing the supernatural, and rather using my time to serve the poor.
I have a greater desire to tell the truth.  While I'm generally not an outright liar, I try to avoid things, or "soften the truth" if in so doing I think people will be happy or like me more.  My people pleasing has some dangerous side effects and it is fear, probably more than anything else, that keeps me from speaking openly about what is on my mind.  I guess this blog-resolution is just one why in which I am trying to be honest about where I'm at.  (Side note:  While I want to be honest about where I am at, I don't want to be trapped here.  I'm not all that content in this nowhere place.  So, as I said above, let me change).  Why?  Why has this change occurred?    I find myself seeking for genuine community, that requires honesty.  Perhaps my desire stems my Bible College experience noted above.  Perhaps I have faith, and faith, being the opposite of fear has driven out this fear.  But faith in what?  Most likely, I think I am tired of hiding.  It is no fun.  My best friendships are the ones where I am totally honest.  I'm not sure I needed the Mormons, I'm not sure I needed the Spirit to teach me that.
When I first started meeting with these missionaries, it was quite different than in times gone by.  I had no agenda, no desire to convert them because I didn't believe that I knew more than they did.  I had no motivation to meet with them other than they asked, and I said sure.  A couple weeks into our meeting, acknowledging it was somewhat ridiculous, they asked if I would set a baptismal date.  I said no.  I didn't want to get their hopes up only to disappoint them.  I wasn't going to get baptised.  They kept meeting with me.  A couple weeks later they asked again.  "Will you, Patricia, take a step of faith and set a date to be baptised."  I said "no, I don't believe it."  But the missionary went on to explain how setting a date didn't bind me to baptism, but showed Heavenly Father that I was willing to act if he gave me an answer.  I said "Ask me again in 2 weeks."  I also mentioned that if I set a date, I thought I'd go through with it.  I like doing the things I say I'll do.  A week later they asked me again.  I said no.  Maybe I was just being stubborn.  It hadn't been two weeks yet.  A week and a half after that they asked me again.  I said okay.  January 11th, we decided.  January 11 would be "the day."  The stipulating being that if I don't believe by then, I don't get baptised.  So, I changed.  I went from an unwillingness to set a baptismal date, to setting that ever approaching date.  Perhaps I changed because I understood it differently.  Could I credit the Spirit for this?  Did he open my mind, or give me a bit of faith so that I thought that there might be a slight possibility of me getting baptised?  Did I just do it because it'd make them happy and I'm just as much a people pleaser as I've ever been?  I don't think so.  I think it was because of how they phrased it.
Well, I'm getting ready for baptism.  If I had to decide today I wouldn't get baptised; I don't believe.  I've got 8 days to believe.  In my preparation I've been reading my Book of Mormon every night and praying.  It's been a long time since I've prayed, but now, I offer a thought to God every now and then throughout the days.  I'm not sure it makes any difference.  Does the spirit lead me to pray?  Is it an old suppressed habit that is coming back?  I don't know.  Does the Spirit lead me to read the Book of Mormon every night?  I don't think so.  I do it though, because I want to know.  Really, I don't want the LDS church to be true, but if it is, I want to know.  I want to have faith.  And, if it is not true, I'd wanna know that too.  I'm not sure praying is the way to come to decide if something is true.  There are those who pray about the Book of Mormon and are convinced.  I'm yet to be one of them.  Is the Spirit changing me?  If I was a little more convinced one way or the other, this post might be more controversial.  For some, that I even consider that the Spirit might be directing me towards Baptism is reason enough for concern.  I'm pretty skeptical myself.

Shameless Self-Promotion

Life is Fine

 Recently I've been reminded that friendships, even if they are well established, require time.  I’d been slacking in the amount of time I’d given my relationships with my Edmonton friends.  With that in mind I decided to make a greater effort to hang out with them.  They are friendships I valued, and longed to sustain.  I made trips to Edmonton to see and hang out with them. 

When I was in Edmonton I spent a quantity of time with my friends.  The one is getting married, the other has a job which could be her career, and the third just bought a house.  They are doing life.  One evening we played Ultimate Frisbee together on a team, and went out for a beer and free pizza after.  It struck me how similar their friends were to them, and how different they were from many of my newer (since high school) friends.  All the same.  All playing the same game of getting ahead and leaving others behind. It's the American dream.

I thought about James:  “Show me your faith apart from your works, and I will show you my faith by my works.”  There was no telling at the Frisbee game who had faith and who did not.  We were all the same.  We were playing Frisbee after all, not healing the sick.  It made me wonder if there was something different we should be doing, if there was some far different way we should be living.

Playing Frisbee was great, going out after was fun, but is that it?  Is that the end of the story?  I won’t be satisfied living my life for Frisbee games and free pizza.  I want more.

I’m just not sure what more would look like.  I feel that for two reasons.  First is quite simply that I feel like I don’t have time for more.  The other is this:  in my efforts to help this world, my steps so far have been in causing less harm. Rather than doing helpful things I have been not doing harmful things.  I've been stepping out and saying "I don't want to be part of the problem," but that doesn't make me part of the solution.  I'm not sure about my next steps.

What are your thoughts?  Does faith make people different?  How is faith shown through works?

Edit, Oct 08, 2013:
Sorry friends who play Frisbee, buy houses, start careers and get married.  Those things are not bad.  They by no means exclude the possibility of doing a lot of good with ones life.  Also, I realise I've mentioned just a sliver of your life.  You do a whole lot more than just play Frisbee.  I get that.  I'm just hoping for something different.  I wanna make every moment count towards changing global systems for the better.  Yes, that is overwhelming, and probably impossible, but I want to try.  The questions of faith are ones I've been asking for a while now.  My friend gets kicked out of her house.  Does Patricia the Christian have anything more to offer that person than Patricia the non-Christian?  I'm not sure she does.  I guess I'm trying to say the questions of faith are reflective of my journey and are not intended as judgments upon yours.  I'm sorry that you got used as the example of what I do not want.  I'm sorry I created a straw-man out of your lives, making it something easy to critique.  I realise that your lives are way more complex and beautiful than this post conveys.  I'm sorry for broken trust and hurt feelings that resulted from this post. Sorry.

The Holy Spirit is like unto...

Today I was playing soccer with my sister.  I really like playing soccer with my sister, and I like when she is on my team.  We play well together because I recognise her still, quiet voice.  "Back" she says, and I know I can pass the ball straight behind me and she will get it.  I do not even have to look.  "Time" she whispers later on, so I take the time to look around me.  I know her voice, I trust her voice, I understand what she is saying and so I act according to what she has told me.
I wish I could say that my relationship with the Holy Spirit is like unto playing soccer with my sister.  I wish I knew and understood the voice of my shepherd and trusted what he says.  I wish it was that clear, but unfortunately it is not.
I think about my other friend with whom I pray soccer.  His voice is not as clear to me.  He will say "yep" or "here", but I have to look up to see where "here" is.  Still, he is speaking to me, and I get a general sense of his position from his voice.  My relationship with the Holy Spirit is not like that either.  Honestly I am not hearing anything at all.
Another friend with whom I play soccer rarely says anything at all.  Yet I have played with him long enough that I generally have a sense as to where he will be.  If he passes me the ball, he will run up field and get in the open.  I look for him there and then I can pass it back to him.  This can be quite successful, especially for our basic play, but when I am trapped in the corner, I wish I knew where he was so I could pass him the ball.  I cannot say my relationship with the Holy Spirit is like that either.  Sure I have read his playbook, but I am never sure where he will be, and when I look around to where I think he could be, I never see him.
There are a few new players.  I think about one guy who neither speaks much, nor do I know his moves.  I am constantly looking around for him, or passing the ball to where I think he should be but he is not.  We don't play well together, but as we work towards the same goal we are slowly learning.  The Holy Spirit and I are not like that either.  I feel no progression in our relationship, and I am not sure we are even aiming towards the same thing.
I have another friend who I texted today to invite to play soccer with us.  He never responded to my text.  I do not know if he is just too busy for me, changed his number, doesn't like soccer or is dead.  I feel like my relationship with the Holy Spirit is a bit more like that.  I feel like our relationship is only my half hearted attempts that I don't know if he is ignoring, not getting, or if he just doesn't care.  Maybe the Holy Spirit only uses facebook.

Let me sleep a little longer.

Augustine of Hippo contemplated “what evil is there not in me and my deeds; or if not in my deeds, my word; or if not in my words, my will”.  While my deeds and my words may not obviously display evil, the evil within me is not without its vices.  I have stopped my “race of virtue [which] marks the beginning of the race of evil” (Gregory of Nyssa).  The former is a marathon (not merely the race, but all the training involved); the latter a walk in the park.

In my class we discussed the word spirituality.  I have held onto the idea that spirituality is made up of divine experiences that stimulate our emotions and leave us changed.  Not only did this concept of spirituality feel very foreign to me, but it also felt like something which I was unable to obtain.  If I could not make God show up, and I couldn’t, then I could not be spiritual.  When the definition shifted to be “theology lived,” suddenly the onus was on me.  I haven’t been living my theology.  I have not been racing towards virtue, but rather I’ve fallen away “from the perfection which is attainable” (Gregory of Nyssa).  I know many of the things I could, and should do, but I have no desire to participate in these things.  Gregory of Nyssa suggests that “those who know what is good by nature desire participation in it”.  Do I believe that God is good?  Do I see the value of reading my Bible?  Do I credit any merit to prayer?  Maybe not.  Reluctantly I sat through chapel on Wednesday.  I wanted to leave.  I wanted to escape.  Recently my escape has been story writing.  I wasn’t feeling close to God, and I knew that story writing wasn’t helping me feel any closer to him, but sitting in chapel wasn’t helping either.   I know it is not all about feelings, so I started to wonder how my beliefs would act themselves out at that moment.  I couldn’t justify writing.  I couldn’t justify running.  I reckoned that if I truly believed in community that I would stay around and be open with people.  If I believed that through others God works, then maybe I could find healing.  Chapel ended.

As I walked down the hall someone approached me

“Hey Patricia, how are you?”  She asked.

“I’m okay.”  I wasn’t okay. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” and with that we parted ways.  So much for living authentically.  So much for living my theology.

Reading the works of Basil the Great reinforces my theology of community.  I cannot go through life alone for we “require the help of one another”.  So frequently, however, I am unwilling to accept that help.  I am selfish, not seeing my gifts as “common possessions” of the community.  I also do not see the gifts of other in this way.  I feel bad being a burden to anyone.  While I may be willing to help someone carry their burden (as long as it is not too heavy and the journey not too far), I carry mine alone.

I do not know why I fear community when it is a gift from God.

I do not know why I escape to story writing when Christ alone is my refuge.

I do not know why I look to the blogosphere to fill my desires when I know that “the longing for Jesus is always underneath our every desire” (Michael Yaconelli, Messy Spirituality).

Though my brain is stuffed with knowledge I am not a spiritual being.  Over and over I fail to live my theology.  I do not know why.  With Augustine I ask “why [do] I find so much delight in doing this”?  When I believe that God is the “true and highest Sweetness”, “by what passion, then, [am] I animated” to do evil?  How easy it is to say that I will suffer with my Lord, but when the suffering is not glorious, when it is simply denying myself of my cravings, how quickly I am to give way.  While I have spoken now mostly of my deeds, often it is my evil will which threatens my theology.  My rebellious desires seek “nothing from the shameful deed but shame itself”.  How harsh are Augustine’s words, and yet how deeply they struck me as true.  “My sole gratification” is in the thought of “my own sin” and there is not much holding my back.   With Augustine I want to say to God “Presently; see, presently.  Leave me alone for a little while” and then I want to fall back into a deep sleep, and not walk up until the interesting dream is over and my responsibilities are left undone for so long that I cannot go back and do them.  Though I want to give myself fully to God eventually, I am “bound by the iron chain of my own will”. My current desires will only make this chain stronger, rather than fight against it.  Maybe I don’t live my theology because I don’t really believe it.  I know the right things to believe.  It is easy to say that God is love, but hard to live in such a way that would proclaim I believed it.  Who is this “sweeter than all pleasure” and how can I know him if not through my “flesh and blood”?

Everything is Meaningless

 

Everything is meaningless

When I hear about someone who is almost killed, but miraculously saved, only to have her life taken from her later that week, I think everything is meaningless.

I have known many a people who after surviving what could have been the death of them say “I lived, so I must be alive for a reason.”  I don’t know that there is any greater reason for them to live than there is for anyone else, alive or dead.

Mordecai tells Esther that perhaps she is in her royal position for a specific reason, but he goes on to say that really, she is not important.  If deliverance didn’t come through her it could have come from somewhere else.

Esther’s position was meaningless.  God didn’t need her.

God does good to those who call on him.  But he does good to those who hate him too.  Blessings are arbitrary.  Everything is meaningless.

God allows good and evil people to succeed.  People’s prayers are answered, whether they are praying to Jesus, Buddha, Ancestors or Themselves.  Everything is meaningless.

Is my life meaningless?  God can use me, but he doesn’t need me.  He can accomplish his will without me.

The end of the matter is this:  Fear God and keep is commandments, for this is the whole duty of man.

I am not very good at fearing God.  I take grace for granted. 

I am not very good at loving God.  That is the greatest commandment.

I have a duty and I fail at it.  Still good and bad things happen to me.  I help one person, but harm others.  This too is meaningless, a chasing after the wind.

P.S.  what language is this:  HOBий ЗAПOBIT  ?

A Pretty Blue Car With An Old Rusted Dent.

A youth I work with told me about how one day she had gotten drunk, stolen her mom’s car and drove 20 minutes to the next town.  On the way back home she was pulled over by the police.  She had been driving a stolen vehicle, while drunk and she does not have even her learner’s licence.  When they called her mom her mom was furious.  She went into the youth's room and started ripping things apart, throwing things on the ground and otherwise trashing the place.  It took days for her anger to finally subside.  When the youth told what had happened, she was repentant and regretted the thing she had done.  She was working to gain back her mother’s trust and mend that relationship.

I was reminded of a time 4 or 5 years ago when I was still living at my parents house.  I asked my dad if I could borrow his car to go pick up my friend, and he willingly agreed.  As I backed out of the garage I heard a crunching sound, the sound that is made when a car hits the side of a garage.  As I was looking behind me it was that noise which alerted me to the fact that the front end of my dad’s car was crunching into the garage door frame.  When I returned to the house with my friend, slightly embarrassed, my father let me be.  Once the time had come for me to take my friend home, I approached my dad, and confessed that I had dented his car.  He nodded, I think he knew.  “Can I borrow your car again so that I can drive my friend home?” I asked somewhat timidly.  I am sure he made a joke that questioned my driving ability, but he let me drive his car again.  There was not a moment of anger, no display of disappointment.  No desire to shame me or to punish me.  When my dad’s friend came over to fix the garage door track, my dad sent me out to help.  That was the extent to which I had to make up for what I had done.  (And I am pretty sure I uselessly stood and watched and did not help at all.) Someone else fixed my mistake, and my dad drove around with a dent on his car for the rest of his life.  He wasn’t one to worry about what others would think.  He didn’t have the need to appear perfect.  He didn’t go around telling everyone that I had dented his car.  He didn’t need to because he didn’t care if people thought it was him.  He was content with what he had, even if that was a dent on his car.

I am now driving my dad’s car, a car with a dent.  A dent that reminds me of my mistake and my dad’s mercy. A dent that reminds me that appearances don’t matter, but love does.  A dent that reminds me that broken garages are easier to fix than broken people, but sometime we have to do our best to mend the wounds from other’s mistakes.  It is a dent that reminds me that what really matters in life is people, not possessions.

 

Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ.

1 Corinthians 11:1

I am grateful for the opportunity I had to follow my father’s example.  He was a follower of Christ, kind and compassionate, gentle, calm and forgiving.  I hope that what I have learned from him I will be able to pass on to others.

copy cat...

I was reading this post:

http://withoutjah-nothin.blogspot.com/2012/01/its-funny-that-i-consider-myself-artist.html

on my friend Kellen's blog, and realised how i feel very much the same as she does, though regarding a different thing. I copied her post almost completely, just changing a few (but significant) words:

It's funny that I consider myself a Christian. Faith is a constant mind-battle for me.
I do think that I have some measure of gifting to theologically reason and it's something that I love to do, but at the same time, I have never been really affected by a spiritual experience. I strive to fill my days with meaningful conversations that have the potential to move people, while I myself have never been moved (to any significant degree).
I feel like a hypocrite; that is my struggle.
Don't get me wrong, I know that it's possible for God to make an impact on someone. I just have a hard time believing that the impact could ever be huge, even though I know that it can. There is a small disconnect between my knowledge and my understanding...

Community

I love Moses! I love the story of God meeting with Moses. I’ve wished that I could have just a bit of what Moses had when he went up on the mountain and spoke with God for forty days. I have often thought to have an experience anything like that of Moses’ I would have I needed to spend time in silence and solitude. I still think those are great things, but I have been trying to understand what is meant by a “personal relationship with God”. I don’t think that it is a phrase that occurs in the scriptures anywhere, and I’ve been wondering if it leads me to have false expectations about how God should be interacting with me. I was flipping through my Bible with this question in mind, and bouncing some Ideas off of a friend. The letters in the New Testament are written to whole churches, so when it is written “you are the temple of God”, it means that we are the temple of God. That blows my mind. We were talking about how it seems that we should relate to God as a community. (Does that happen in church? Or do we all just relate to God individually while happening to be in the same place?) I thought if we are to relate to God as a community, maybe he will relate to us when we are in community. I wondered if that was true. My friend mentioned the letters to the churches in Revelation; they are to churches, not individuals. I find that to be interesting. I then thought about Moses. In Exodus 19 God has a message for his people, the commandments. He gathers them all together so that as a community they hear from God.

“Then Moses led the people out of the camp to meet with God, and they stood at the foot of the mountain. Mount Sinai was covered with smoke, because the LORD descended on it in fire. The smoke billowed up from it like smoke from a furnace, and the whole mountain trembled violently. As the sound of the trumpet grew louder and louder, Moses spoke and the voice of God answered him.” (Ex 19:17-19)

I wonder what it was like to be among the Israelites that day?

“When the people saw the thunder and lightning and heard the trumpet and saw the mountain in smoke, they trembled with fear. They stayed at a distance and said to Moses, “Speak to us yourself and we will listen. But do not have God speak to us or we will die.”

Moses said to the people, “Do not be afraid. God has come to test you, so that the fear of God will be with you to keep you from sinning.”

The people remained at a distance, while Moses approached the thick darkness where God was.” (Ex 20:18-21)

In the end the Israelites back off, and Moses alone approaches God, but I can’t help but wonder if God desires to meet with us in community. I wonder if we’d be ready for that. I think it is time for me to focus on my communal relationship with God.