Monthly Archives: August 2017

The Stocks of Virginity

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stocksSo much for “her body, her choice”, it seems.

Amanda Prestigiacomo of the Daily Wire wrote an article last weekend on actress Yvonne Orji and her decision to share with PEOPLE Magazine her desire to remain sexually chaste until marriage.

You can guess what happened. The Twitter peanut gallery lost no time attacking her with all the usual talk – how her decision wasn’t “healthy”, how she was affirming harmful patriarchal constructs, bad role model, quit flaunting your faith in everyone’s face, etc.

Man alive. Is it just me, or has the left gotten just as preachy as the right in the last decade?

Some might be tempted to say that these keyboard warriors are basically the Westboro of the left and don’t truly represent their attitudes.

But I can testify that Yvonne is not experiencing an isolated incident.

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Temptation Isn’t the Only Problem

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drawbridgeBoom. Temptation lands.

Satan is enticing you to splurge through your new budget, or dial up that website you know should stay buried, or sabotage your efforts to show kindness at work by letting your temper fly towards a coworker, or whatever else has been convicting you lately. The temptation presses hard against your heart, like a gust of wind.

It isn’t actually the real problem.

There’s usually a “decision” phase in every temptation in which we’re still deciding whether to commit a sin. Sometimes it’s short or even near-instantaneous, a “cruise missile” moment (like the flare of a temper), but even then we have a split second to decide.

Do you notice an internal dialogue in those phases?

“You want to do this.”

“I don’t. But I kinda do, too.”

“Yes, you do.”

“But I shouldn’t.”

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Totality: God’s Scientific Signature On Life

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eclipse1I jaunted down to Idaho on Monday in a bid to catch the solar eclipse in totality.

Had to take a day off work to do it. 900 miles of driving in 28 hours. The same weekend as a 35-mile hike. I was too exhausted to stay awake on the drive back to town after the event (my aunt drove back), and I got a bit sick at work the following day.

Worth it.

Words suck to describe a total solar eclipse. The awe, the indescribable wrongness of a giant hole-like thing staring down like a glaring eye – it’s bizarre. Chilling. Powerful. The shadow rushed towards and over us from the western horizon. Everything got cold. The corona hung frozen around the moon’s edges like white fishnets (or Bernie Sanders’ hair). It looked – well, three-dimensional. Like real objects blow you away after you’ve only viewed the 2-D pictures.

But the most awe-inspiring part was the scientific articles I read beforehand.

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Just Around the Next Switchback

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hikers“I don’t think I’m gonna make it,” I panted.

Below us sprawled the Flathead Valley in its pristine summer beauty, seemingly close enough to touch, the houses and trees like playthings from our vantage at 7,000 feet.

But I barely noticed the view. My friend and I were sitting, gasping for breath, on Columbia Mountain on Friday with 30-pound packs – an elevation gain of 4,500 feet in 6 miles – and I was more exhausted than ever in my life. Seriously. This beat even my black belt test.

I don’t know whether it was the altitude, being out of shape, or both, but my arms were going numb, my legs shaking, and a deep pain starting in my chest. The scorching sun beat down (seriously, moon, you couldn’t eclipse three days sooner?); sweat beaded and dripped off our necks. Everything was dust (the trees having long ago gotten smaller due to altitude).

It had become switchback, switchback, five minute rest, repeat. The summit was in view, but stubbornly refused to grow closer. Was the mountain growing as we hiked?

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Small Christian Blogs Worth Your Time II: Brainy Edition

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You know the search bar at the top of our WordPress reader that says “Search billions of WordPress.com posts”? Yeah, that’s not intimidating at all.

Small-time Christian blogs have a hard time getting noticed in the midst of all of humanity’s blogging output (especially if we start getting censored, as happens on Youtube), so I’m doing my best to bring some new eyes to the quality ones.

I’ve already done one such post. This second installment is (mostly) for bloggers with a more theological or apologetic bent. If you’re into that sort of thing, you should enjoy this list (though, again, I make no guarantees that you’ll agree with every take on the disputable matters).

I can’t list 5,834 bloggers, so to qualify here, you must:

  • Produce posts that are semi-frequent and long enough to be of substance
  • Show Biblical maturity
  • Have less than 100 WordPress followers

I had more qualifying blogs left over from my first post, but ironically, several of them have gone over 100 followers (congratulations!) in the intervening months. So here’s ten that haven’t yet – though y’all will soon see to it, right?

Dive in.

 

“Faith, Philosophy, and Science” by Scientific Christian

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Wait Gracefully

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horse“Wait gracefully”.

This truth bomb was dropped on my head by Sarah over at Love/Power/Strength in response to a discussion here on my blog, and my ears are still ringing from the impact.

It’s just such a deceptively great phrase! And it applies regardless of what you’re waiting for.

Because there’s so many directions you can take the idea of “graceful”, at least in my mind. And because there’s an alternative: to wait gracelessly. I’ve done my share of that.

What could “wait gracefully” mean?

 

1. Graceful appearance

The outward appearance of our lives can be staggered, jerky, tumultuous and ungainly, or it can be smooth, tranquil, flowing, and confident – pleasing to the eye.

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When You Don’t Feel Like Praying for Rain Again

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rainSmoke covers the Montana Rockies. Every thunderstorm that passes through seems to touch off new blazes, which now surround my town on three sides so that the wind can’t easily clear out the smoke. Last night, flakes of ash were drifting out of the sky.

So you could say that, like Elijah, we’re praying for rain.

In the last few days, I’ve prayed for the safety of the firefighters putting their lives on the line to contain the flames. I’ve also asked for your prayer.

But last night, when I realized it had been a whole day since I prayed, something in me quailed.

Ugh. I don’t feel like praying tonight. Not again.

And that’s exactly how I knew that I needed to keep praying.

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Please Pray for My Torch of a State

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Both a general and a personal request here.

Last spring, after a winter of incredible snowpack, I said to a few friends: “Given this much snow, it’ll be pretty annoying if we have a big fire season this summer.”

Well, guess what.

It hasn’t reached the levels of our 2007 season yet, when you couldn’t see traffic lights three blocks away and ash was drifting out of the sky, but we’re headed that way. One town about an hour southeast of me is being evacuated because of air quality concerns. Every thunderstorm that rolls through is producing lightning fires. It’s that dry. And just last night, the most picturesque parts of Glacier National Park got hit.

Please take a moment today (no, really take a moment, don’t just say you will and then forget) to pray for the fire situation in Montana, as well as the Cascades and all through the Rockies. Please pray for the courage, alertness, and strength of the brave men and women fighting these fires from the ground, from the air, and from the offices supporting them.

Also, a personal request – far less urgent, but if I may…

These fires come just a week before my tight friend and I are preparing for a 50-mile backpacking trip. It’s not just any trip; it’s the first step in a story we’re hoping will culminate in hiking the Continental Divide Trail – a 3,100 stretch of trail spanning the Rockies from Mexico to Canada. We’re building up to that goal, gathering experience, over the course of several years and we hope not to be barred or choked out of next week’s trip by the looming fire problem.

So if you don’t mind, please pray for our trip. Although, by all means, spend far more energy on praying for our firemen.

Whaddya Mean, “Are You a Missionary?”

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soldierEver since I started talking about my recent Czech mission, a number of brothers- and sisters-in-blogging have asked the same question: “Are you a missionary?”

I know what they mean: am I a long-term evangelist. Nope; the trip was only two weeks long (though I’ve returned a few times).

But what I wanted to say (without being rude – I love y’all) was, “Aren’t we all missionaries?”

(Most people, including the folks who have asked me this question, would totally agree with what I’m saying. But that doesn’t mean we can’t discuss it again!)

My church teaches variations of this theme: there’s a certain danger in treating our earthly residence as “home”. It’s the danger of mistaking our true situation. We are all behind enemy lines; none of us are home yet. It’s thinking of this earth as “home” that gets our focus off of heaven; it’s thinking of our personal comfort zone as “home” that causes us to miss opportunities to share the Gospel with those in our workplace, our school, or our street.

I’m as bad as anyone else. My focus are constantly on earthly goals, so much so that I have a hard time dreaming about anything else.

But when I consider thousands of people plunging daily into hell, well, it becomes a burr in my shoe. Hopefully more.

Because it’s actually harder to witness in America, precisely because of the fact that I live here.

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My Mole Scare and What It Taught Me

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A few months ago, I noticed my skin was starting to sport moles.

No, not THAT kind.

mole1

THAT kind.

I read that moles tend to happen in one’s thirties and thought little of it. Perhaps that “I’m Invincible” feeling was still lingering from my teens.

But as the year wore on, one particular mole kept staring up at me from my front right torso, as if to say “I’m important.”

Further research revealed that melanoma is not something to trifle with. It would seem that skin cancer is one of the most treatable cancers if caught early and one of the least treatable if not. I spoke to a couple fortuitously placed church friends and learned that investigating the mole via a “shave biopsy” carried a benefit-to-cost ratio too high to ignore.

Biopsy.

Man. There’s a word I never wanted to be using in my thirties. Or, y’know, ever.

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