servanthood saturday: testing, testing, 1, 2, 3

This man was the main focus of a newspaper article in my local paper. Seeing as I have no idea how the link will last for, I shall give you the basics of it: his name is Daniel Swarath. He's a convicted child molester recently released from custody and is now back home with his parents. He's been convicted six times of sexual offences involving young girls through his church, of which his father is the pastor. There are details about what had happened, but I don't feel led to share them. That is not what this post is about.

No, what I feel led to blog about is God's mercy and grace. Remember when I had posted back in 2009? My mindset is still the same as it was back then.

It's easy to agree with Jesus when He says to love your neighbour as yourself. It's easy to love your friends, your family, your co-workers, your church family, etc, etc. But what happens when that becomes a test? I believe that it wasn't a mistake that Swarath is now back in Sarnia. I also believe that it is part of God's plan. "Whoa," you may be thinking right now as you read this. "How can it be part of God's plan to have this criminal back?" I can't say I blame you. In fact, I may have been inclined to think the same. Truthfully, I actually did think the same. Then I read the article [somebody had posted this on Facebook].

When I had read that his father was a pastor of a local church, and still is, that's when God started to knock on my door. See, I wanted to know what kind of church he was a part of, what they believed, and the like. So I googled around, looking for it. And I found it. Guess what? They believe exactly what I believe. They are a Christian church and they are of the Christian faith. The knocking became louder and more insistent. I remember reading the church's core values and as I was reading them, I heard God ask me, "So what are you going to do about this?"

When God asked me that, I was floored for about five minutes. What was I supposed to do about this? I began to chew on it for a bit, wondering what God meant by that. The more I chewed and ruminated on it, the more my heart turned toward Swarath and his father.

Guess what, guys? Swarath is one of us [for those who are Christians that are reading this]. Like it or not, this guy, who is on the national sex offender registry in Canada, is a part of our family in Christ. I'll be honest, that's a bitter pill to swallow. See, we like our mindsets of what we think Jesus meant when He talks about loving our neighbours and other verses such as that. As long as nothing comes into our bubble we're safe.

I'm going to take this time now to bring up a real classy dude named Saul. This guy had a mission in life and that mission was to kill every single Christian he came into contact with. I mean, really. Not only was it his job to kill Christians but I honestly believe that it was also his hobby. He got a great amount of joy out of it too, in my opinion. Then one day Saul met the most amazing Man he could ever have met. The Man struck him blind and three days later Saul got his sight back. He was changed from that point on and Saul soon became the apostle Paul who became one of early Christian leaders. You can read about Saul/Paul in the book of Acts. Awesome book.

Point about bringing up the apostle Paul is this: if Jesus Himself cared that much about someone who was murdering His sheep, then surely He cares about sex offenders. And if He cares about sex offenders, and if we're in the army of the Lord, then shouldn't we be like the Army in real life and not leave a man behind? I was listening to a song by Casting Crowns last night entitled "If We Are the Body". One of the lines that really struck me was this:

Jesus paid much too high a price
For us to pick and choose who should come
And we are the body of Christ

A lot of times I think that we have forgotten who Jesus was and whom He chose to hang out with. I mean, all of His disciples were basically unpopular and poor Mary Magdalene has had to go through centuries with this unsavoury reputation that has been placed on her for reasons that aren't even true. I'm pretty sure that if He was still on this earth, He wouldn't be hanging out with me. No, I would be hanging out with Him and all the shady characters that would be around.

For the record, I'm not saying that we should throw Swarath back into the mix and see how he fares with the young girls. No. That trust has been broken. It has been proven that he can't be trusted. So what's the next best thing? Love him by praying for him and his family. That's all we can do for now.

(I was originally going to post this for Faithful Friday but I was writing this post in my mind as I was laying in bed last night. Or rather, God was)

faithful friday: remembrance day

Today, at this moment, people all over North America - and quite possibly elsewhere - are taking their time to remember all of those who gave their lives for their country's freedom....and us so that we may live in a country where freedom is possible. We're remembering their heroic experiences in fighting for their country; we're remembering the fallen, who gave so much; we're remembering all the heroes who shed blood for their country; we're taking the time to honour those still living long after the war(s) and we're also honouring those who are in service today.

As I was having my moment of silence this morning, it occurred to me that we, as Christians, should also see this day as a day of remembrance for all those who have gone before us in the Christian faith. Paul, Stephen, John the Baptist, John the Beloved, Peter, Joshua, Caleb, David, Daniel, Elijah, Elisha...only a few of the heroes of our faith who have gone before us and paved the way for our own freedom in our faith. Yes, we haven't yet gotten to the place where they were yet, and yes, we have had so many mistakes in our past, and there are mistakes we're still making today. Without them, though, we wouldn't have a clue. These people suffered extreme persecution, death, blindness, lions, beheadings, burning oil, giants, stonings, upside down crucifixions, whatever else. There are even countless others that we don't even know about!

And it's not just those in bible times. No, I'm also remembering a certain Rachel Joy Scott, who was one of the victims of the Columbine school shooting who died a martyr for her Christian faith. I'm remembering all the other martyrs that I don't know about who have lived in these present day times and died simply because they chose to put their strength and courage and life into Jesus Christ, their saviour. Our saviour.

All these people have paved the way for how we should be. Sometimes, I think, we are too wrapped up in our lives to fully appreciate the cost that is asked of us. I know I am! We shouldn't be wrapped up in materialistic things. We shouldn't be so wrapped up in what we think others should believe that we don't even take the time to love on the very people around us. Too much is at stake. We, at least I haven't, have never encountered stonings, forced blindness, crucifixions, school shootings, beheadings, burning oil, lions, etc, etc. I hope I never encounter them in the future but you know what? It shouldn't even matter to me if I do [encounter them].

All these wonderful people have showed us what it truly means to follow Christ. They didn't care whether somebody was gay, or black, white, or had leprosy. They just loved them all the same.

Today, on Remembrance Day, not only will I remember those who fought hard for our country, and honour those who are still fighting today, but I will also remember those who have fought hard for our 'freedom' in our Christian faith, and also honour those who are still facing persecution, torture, and death all over the world in our Christian faith, too.

faithful friday: my testimony part two

I used to have this friend, and she lived on my street. We were practically inseperable. Going to her house was awesome because she had this cat, Mitzie, and I didn't have one; she had a swimming pool...and I didn't; she had a big screen tv...and I didn't; her mom made the best pizza and lasagna and cookies...and my mom tried the best she could; she had two older sisters...and I had a stupid brother; she was cooler than me...and I wasn't.

She introduced me to a lot of things: Christian Slater [he's pretty cool now but back then I never heard of him so I had to believe her when she told me he was hot], New Kids on the Block [Go Danny Wood! She loved Donnie, I thought she was kidding herself...or me but she was serious], Land Before Time [first film, though; I loved Cera, and I loved playing with all her LBT stuffed animals], and, unfortunately, the occult. No, actually. It was fortunately, because there was a reason for this; a good one.

We spent many hours sneaking into her sister's closet and reading her Christopher Pike* books because they were "forbidden" so of course we had to read them. We also had R.L. Stine*...but we were allowed to read those so even though he was a good author, he wasn't a match for Chris Pike. Then there was the time we played with their Ouija board and accidentally called upon a demon who was really scary according to my friend. Of course, knowing what I know now, everybody we called up were demons..."counterfeiters", I'll call them, to make it not so intense. We played with it again and we called up my dead father, or what we assumed to be him but probably some counterfeiter playing with us.

I told my mom about it and she got really angry and told me never to do it anymore...so I didn't. But it wasn't because of what she said. No, it was because on our way to Chatham, Ontario, for some family thing, I noticed a cloud shaped like Jesus with His hands outstretched [seriously, it was uncanny]. And I knew that He knew what I did. So I stopped. And she, my friend, didn't bring it up again.

She talked to me a lot about this movie entitled Buffy the Vampire Slayer. To be honest, that movie never really interested me as it sounded so ridiculous. So I just kind of nodded and tuned her out. She was really into witches and 'spells' so we did a lot with that. And by that, I mean we would make games and gibberish and stuff. Pretty harmless...but not. We 'created' a haunted house in her basement too once.

Then one night, while I was sleeping over, she, her sisters, and a few friends rented two movies. One was The Great Mouse Detective, and the other? Poltergeist 3. I kid you not. I was about 6-7, and so everybody was gearing up to watch the movie, Poltergeist 3, but I was still in the playroom hoping that someone would want to, you know, not watch that movie? Guess what? Everybody wanted to, so I refused to stay in the playroom but I also didn't want to go upstairs with the adults. So...against the Voice in my head telling me no, and against my better judgement, with a mix of not wanting to be rejected thrown in, I settled in to watch this movie. And I was terrified. For months. I could hardly sleep. For months. I had nightmares. For months. I could not look at the mirror in my room for months. I was seriously traumatized. For months. Not even The Great Mouse Detective, I insisted on watching immediately afterwards to try to dispel some of the trauma, worked. The damage had been done. And somewhere, deep in my soul, a door was opened way before its time I believe.

After the trauma of that movie went away, sort of, I went on with my life. But a curious thing happened. I was drawn to R.L. Stine books. I sneaked them into the house under my mom's nose...or at least tried to. I could watch scary movies. I remember the first movie I watched after the P3 debacle, I was a little hesitant, because I remembered what that movie was like, but when I watched it, it wasn't that scary. I couldn't believe it. What changed? What had happened that I wasn't scared anymore?

Flashforward a bit more. I was hanging out with my aunt in Toronto when we met up with her friend and her daughter. Now her daughter was possibly a few years older than me. And she watched a show called The X-Files. I had heard about this show, and it looked pretty interesting, but I wasn't allowed to watch it. Around this time, I was also part of an online community and I met this person from England and she watched X-Files too. So then I wanted to watch, too. I begged. I pleaded. Mom finally caved and I could watch it. I was so happy. It became my favourite show back then. It had everything: aliens, cute guys, unexplained phenomena, and also...the supernatural. That was what attracted me in the first place. I was so excited. Wow! This is so cool! Mulder is so hot! When will he and Scully get together?

Then, my online buddy started talking to me about another show, based on a movie that did not really impress me: Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I begged. I pleaded. I made puppy eyes at my mom. I did not let up. But she did. And I started watching this amazing show about this awesome chick who could benchpress vampires twice her size [and if you've seen Sarah Michelle Gellar, you would totally agree]. And I was in awe. The spells Giles did! The incantations Willow spoke! The cute vampire named Spike! The occultic atmosphere! Me. Want. More. Me. Want. More. Yes, I totally had the taste for everything about the occult. It was like a drug. I could not stay away, even if I wanted to...which I didn't. I bought books on the subject, sort of, via books detailing Buffy and Co.'s latest adventures away from the tv. I bought Buffy reference books [because what was the point if you couldn't keep track of every demon that ever lived in the Buffyverse?], soundtracks, DVD sets, a cardboard standup of Miss Buffy herself. Same with XF: DVDs, books, merchandise, etc, etc.

And it didn't end there. Oh no. There was another show, Charmed. Bought books, reference books, a mini Book of Shadows - the girls' spell book - filled with spells and 'harmless' rituals the fan could do. It actually got to the point where I went looking around on the internet for information about the false religion, Wicca. That's witchcraft point blank, just a cute little name to use so people don't get weirded out. I wasn't weirded out. I bought two authentic spellbooks on the subject and hid them from my mom. One was called, "The Teen Spell Book: Majick for Young Witches" by Jamie Wood, and the other was called "Teen Witch: Wicca for a New Generation" by Silver Ravenwolf, an authentic witch. Let's just call a spade a spade, okay? I wanted to be a Wiccan. In fact, one of my dreams back then was to move out and get my own place and create a sort of "altar" somewhere and then find out if there's any covens here. Honest. But I couldn't. And I didn't. Because of my Christian heritage.

Around the same time, my church, River City, had moved into their own building where they are now. And they had started up some courses Sunday nights. The first one I took was led by a sweet lady, now my cute little pastor, Mary Jane. She was teaching on how to be part of the Ministry Team. I wasn't sure why, but I did and I loved it. I actually like hearing about God. So I took the course. That's when things started to happen. I felt like God wanted me to, like, get rid of all my occultic collections. And I was, like, no way. He kept on me, and I kept shutting Him down. He kept on me until finally I was able to say, you win. That was one of the worst experiences of my life. I cut off all ties to my stuff, and the Ministry Team group all helped me by praying, until it was done. And then I could not breathe. It was a pain I could feel all the way down to my heart. I cried.

Life moved on for me. Until a few months later, I was walking through a bookstore and noticed a book about my favourite two vampires on Buffy. I bought it. I read it. I swore this was the only thing I would have. I loved it. I loved it right back to Square One. Thousands of dollars again. Thousands of books. Thousands of merchandise stuff. That addiction, and I do call it that, stayed with me right up until the series finale of Buffy was going to air. God spoke to me. He asked me not to watch that particular episode. I said okay. I did not tape it when it aired. My aunt taped it for me though. I did not watch it, like God told me to. That's when things started to change again. The show and universe it was in, started to wane. I was not into it as much anymore. I had all my stuff, but that was not interesting to me anymore.

(Again this is a really huge post and I'm so sorry but I could not stop writing. See you next week!)

* Anytime you see a link for an author or actor, it will take you to that particular person so you can know what to pray for. They need prayer. Christopher Pike's real name is Kevin Christopher McFadden. Not much is known about him, though. But yeah. These people need prayer. Because they are spiritually dying and they do not even know

** I choose not to post links to where you can see the product, read up on the shows/movies because I don't believe in glorifying that kind of darkness like that.

faithful friday: my testimony

Before I begin, I'd like to start off by saying how sorry I am for not blogging for a few months or so. It wasn't because I was busy or anything, actually, it was. But that wasn't the reason. The reason is that God had laid it on my heart to share my testimony, but every time I went to go sit down, my mind would just fill with static and I could not think of what to write for the life of me. I was under attack. As a matter of fact, I did attempt to start, and I had something substantial down, but for some odd - and by odd, I mean the enemy - reason, my auto save did not kick in and I lost EVERYTHING. I'm highly convinced it's because we all have something to share, and to contribute to the Kingdom of God, and that upsets the enemy a whole lot. Anyway, here goes:


My testimony starts out the usual and traditional way of how testimonies start out, so I'll skim over that. Yes, I was born and raised in a Christian home. Yes, my family is Christian. Yes, I went to church. Yes, I went to a Christian school. Yes, I love God.


My background, spiritually, makes me look like a mutt: I was part of the CRC when I was a wee one, then my family moved on to the Vineyard church, then I moved on to a little church named Dunamis Church Sarnia until finally, I settled in with The Gathering Place Christian Fellowship. But that isn't what I want to get into. My story begins when we left the CRC and decided to join River City Vineyard.


River City. I vividly remember my first impression of this small, little church that had just started up. We learned about it from my aunt and uncle because they were going there and thought that we should check it out. So we did. First impression: I love the music. There were people up on a little stage playing guitars, singing into microphones, and drumming on the drums. Like a rock band! I would've given everything right then and there to be able to listen to this kind of music every Sunday instead of people singing hymns to the tunes played out on a monotonous organ. NOT THAT THERE'S ANYTHING WRONG WITH THAT. It's just that, when I was a wee one, I didn't really appreciate our church and all that it had [and even when we were steadfastly going to River City and had to take turns to bring my dear grandma to church, I still didn't appreciate it; all I cared about were the mints that were overflowing and the balcony seating]. Nowadays, I probably would appreciate it more because it would most likely remind me of my grandma [she died while I was in sixth grade].


One of my fondest memories of RCV was during Sunday school, during the first year or so I was going, it took place in this very kitschy kitchen-type room, and the teacher, Rob, had us all close our eyes and listen to what God was saying or whatever. Knowing nothing about this, I was determined to be the "good one" and try my very hardest at this exercise. So I folded my hands and closed my eyes and waited. After a few seconds, I heard, rather than felt, this gentle breeze around me. Now I opened my eyes to make sure I wasn't hearing things or making myself think I'm hearing something, but when I did, I saw that the window was closed and so was the door leading outside. Now Rob had everyone open their eyes and share what happened. I shared what I heard, and Rob said that it was "meat". I was intrigued.


Little did I know that this would be the start of the battle for my soul. And what a battle it would be!

I remember vacationing for a week up in Stayner, Ontario, during the summer for a few years. This was because all the Vineyards in Ontario were all staying there having their annual summer "camp". It during this that when we all went to this "classroom", this guy started speaking to us and teaching us. I can't remember what all happened, but I do remember that afterwards, he gave a sort of altar call to come up and receive Jesus. Everybody went up with the exception of a few people, myself included. My cousins and brother went up but I stayed sitting. Afterwards, I was wandering the grounds and couldn't find anybody, so I went back to the room that my mom and brother and I were staying in and just hung out there. I do remember my mom coming in and asking her how to ask Jesus into my heart. Now, I will confess that my motives weren't pure. I felt funny all day and I just wanted to be in the same 'group' as my cousins and brother. So I asked Jesus into my heart. I couldn't wait to tell my cousins and brother. I was in the same place as them again.

Jesus knew what was up, but I think He also knew something that I didn't know yet. I think He must have known that on a subconscious level that I was genuine too. How else could it explain this weird battle over my life in the next few years?


I have decided to tell my testimony in parts because who wants to read a 150-page testimony? Not me. Stayed tuned for the next part. It gets interesting; I promise.

faithful friday: be at rest

Be at rest, oh my soul/for the Lord, He is good/He is good/He is good/He is good

For the past week, I've been sensing that God has been wanting me to rest in Him. Which is good but unfortunately I haven't really taken the time to do it. To just...rest. Shut myself out from the world, and all its fleshy desires, and find my secret place with Him. I don't know if you've noticed, but there are a lot of distractions: computer/Facebook/Twitter, iPod [1600 songs and counting], television, friends, family, work...the list goes on and on. Not that there's anything the matter with those things but sometimes they all just get in the way.

What God has been saying is that I need to discipline myself by putting away my computer, my iPod, my tv time, and just really close myself off from the world, no distractions, and just take the time to just find myself in Him and commune with Him.

Think of yourself as a rechargeable battery. When that battery needs to be charged back up in order to work, what do you do? You plug it back in. Same with us. In order to be charged and ready to go, we, too, need to be 'plugged back in' to God otherwise we wouldn't be able to do whatever it is that God wants us to do. When you see batteries recharging, you don't use them, right? You wait until they are fully recharged before you can use them. While they are recharging, what are they doing? They're resting, aren't they?

I'm totally speaking to myself right now. Ha ha! Seriously, though, resting in God is a great way to recharge and to hear from Him and see what He's speaking about you and your life.

Happy Resting!!

open letter to playboy bunnies and playmates

Hello Ladies,

You don't know me and I don't know you. If we had to pick each other out of a police lineup, we wouldn't be able to to save our life. But I've got something to say, so listen up!

You're so beautiful. I'm not talking 'bout the beauty that you can buy to keep your face wrinkle-free, to keep your chest perky and big [how do you buy shirts?], to keep your blonde hair blonder, to keep your stomach free of any kind of fat, etc., etc. I'm talking 'bout true beauty, where no amount of money can make you more beautiful than you already are. Because it's true beauty. It's your heart, it's your soul, and in some instances, it's your mind.

You were made for so much more than just sexual objects! Don't you see the potential that's inside of you? Don't tell me that when you were a kid, you told your mom that you wanted to grow up and become sex-personified. You girls have so much potential, can't you see that? You can do whatever you put your mind and heart to. Ladies, you can do so much better than this; you can be so much better than just a "sex toy" for fat, balding, pervy old men when they read that filthy magazine.

You have so much to give; don't let this be the end for you. If you want to be an actress, fine; but there are other ways to break into the business than this route. Why, you can be a producer, writer, even a director. You could even win awards. Heck, you could even be a role model.

Point is, you were made for so much more than this. You were not made to be known as sex objects. You were not made to be looked at like you are a piece of meat. You were not made to have your lady parts - and yes, I did say "lady parts" - be public property.

I have news for you: that "lifestyle" that you enjoy so much, living with a harem of women in an old man's house? Yeah, it isn't healthy for you. At all. It's disgusting. Oh, I'm sure he treats you all with the utmost respect and takes care of you, but honestly? The way I see it is that you're all a bunch of high-tech hookers and prostitutes. I mean, really, let me guess: you all have slept with him more than once. Don't be going degrading yourselves like that.

You deserve more. You deserve all the honour and respect that there is in this world. You deserve to be treated with respect, and not like a piece of meat. You deserve to be known for more than your lady parts and body.

You are beautiful. Don't ever forget that.

colombo, sri lanka

Sri Lanka is having a flood of their own. For those that don't know, Sri Lanka is a small island located below the country of India.

So if we could pray for them, that would be wonderful. I know that the UN has made a $51 million appeal for help.

faithful friday: forgiveness [part two]

Remember my post from last Friday? I can honestly say that I have forgiven Caleb*. I was having time to myself this past week in the bath, which has been known to be my God-time, and I just decided to forgive him. I was tired of holding on to this hurt. I didn't want this pain any longer. So I forgave him. I expected tears. It didn't happen. I expected to be totally overcome by the Holy Spirit. It didn't happen. I expected some momentous occasion to mark this turning point in my life...and it didn't happen. What did happen, though, was this genuine love that came into my heart and spirit for Caleb.

Letting go of the hurt and pain that somebody has caused you, intentionally and unintentionally, doesn't have to be this huge occasion with God as I had found out. It can, for some people, but for others it's short, sweet, and right to the point. Forgiving someone can be as simple as surrendering to God and say, "Okay, Lord, I'm done with this. I want to forgive." That is completely okay. It doesn't have to be this huge shindig complete with tears, wails, kleenex boxes by the dozen, and people around you holding your hand and praying for you like I had thought.

It's about you, and how you roll. For me, I don't like to be the center of attention all that much so maybe that's why this whole act of forgiveness thing was just a tender moment that I had with God.

I feel good about this, I really do. I released him from any ill feelings I had toward him that may have hindered him, in some way, during his walk with God. I repented of that. Here's what I think: I think that when a person holds someone in contempt/unforgiveness/grudge/whatever, they are holding them back from everything that God has for them. I don't know how it all works yet but it's what God has dropped into my spirit this week.

From the words of Louie Giglio on Twitter:

"If you're not speaking God's best over your life each day in 2011, who is? Don't be afraid to preach truth to yourself!"

That's good advice, and it works in forgiveness too. In order to keep the love flowing, it really helps to speak life over the other person and not speak death.

*Not his real name, and yes, he WILL remain nameless!

lundi linkage: misc

*Lundi is french for Monday.




This is yet another special section! Every Monday, I'm hoping to have a variety of links that I like to look at and follow. Could be videos from YouTube, or a blog I read, or something else entirely. Enjoy!

Music: One of my favourite songs at the moment is "One Thing Remains" by Jesus Culture, a ministry of Bill Johnson. Check it out, here [it's a link because I have no clue how to add videos to this]. As a matter of fact, all of Jesus Culture's music is fantastic. I highly recommend them.


Television: Did anyone watch the Golden Globes? I didn't watch them, but I know who won for Glee, and really, that's all that matters for me [though it would've been nice to hear that Hugh Laurie had won as well]. Jane Lynch won for her portrayal of gym teacher/Cheerios coach Sue Sylvester, my most favourite character on that show, and Chris Colfer won for his portrayal of openly gay student, Kurt Hummel [Chris is openly gay himself]. Kurt is another one of my faves. You can watch his acceptance speech, here. It moved me to tears.


The main reason why I love this show so much is because it's extremely diversive. It has Asian Americans who are bucking against the stigma of stereotype. It has a gorgeous African American young woman who is not a size zero. It has a strong, openly gay character. And last, but certainly not least, it has a young lady who has Down Syndrome that has made her way onto the Cheerios [cheerleading squad].

Addictions: Thanks, Twitter, for giving me an addiction I didn't really need in the first place. Fan-freakin'-tastic. Also, I love Facebook.

That's all folks [for now]! I'll try my best to keep this feature up.

happy 2011!

Happy 2011, everyone!

Well, it's January 15th, still in the first part of the new year. Wow, a lot has happened since it started: Arizona shooting, Australia's flood, Brasil's flood, I'm hearing about another flood over in Sri Lanka... Pretty crazy stuff. I feel bad for the people in those areas though.

Before, I head toward a depression let's move on! A new year means a new beginning. I am so excited about this upcoming year. It feels like a clean, new slate. I'm looking forward to growing closer to God than ever before, I'm looking forward to the direction that God is going to take my church in... The list goes on and on. I'm just so excited about what's coming, spiritually speaking, of course.

My hopes for 2011 is that I want to know more about the world around me. I want to create new friendships, while renewing old ones, I want to go places with people, I want to have fun and laugh, I want nothing to hold me back from the things of God, I want to grow closer than ever to my Daddy God, I want to see things I have never seen before, I want to do crazy and exciting things.

Guys, it's time to take us back from the enemy and rise up as the warriors that we were called to be!

Happy new year!!


(Like the dog in the picture? His name is Boo. Like him. Love him. Resistance is futile)

heroism

Meet Jordan Rice. Son. Brother. Friend. Cute. Thirteen. Australian. Brave. Hero. That last word usually isn't used in the same description as a normal thirteen year-old boy, but then Jordan isn't your average boy. Or rather, he wasn't. He tragically died this week during the flood in Australia when he and his mother were swept away by the strong current in the middle of a rescue mission to save him, his mother, and his ten year-old brother, Blake.

Let me start in the beginning. He, his mother, Donna, and Blake were in the car to go shopping for school. The car stalled in the middle of the street in relatively shallow water. Within seconds, I'm guessing, the water rose considerably and kept rising therefore making the family climb atop their car. Two people went to rescue them. During this mission of mercy, they went for Jordan first. Jordan didn't want to go because he wanted them to rescue Donna and Blake first. Did I mention that Jordan couldn't swim and that he was terrified of water? Yeah. So, they grabbed Blake first. Blake was saved. Unfortunately, the rope that the rescuers used on Jordan tore and that's when he and Donna were swept away.

What gets to me is Jordan's courageous spirit and boldness. I mean, you have to be bold if you were in the midst of a flood, couldn't swim and had a fear of water - a bad combination by the way, and still wanted your mother and brother to be rescued first. I want that. I want that kind of boldness that says, 'yeah, I'm in this absolutely terrifying situation but I still want everybody to go before me'. Can you imagine the complete terror he must have felt on top of the car? He probably was close to having a complete meltdown! I know I would've been.

We can learn from this. I'm twenty seven, and I am in awe of this thirteen year-old boy. That he would stay in an enviroment that he was petrified of just so his brother could be rescued first? That is astounding. Remarkable, even.

Daddy God, I want that boldness. I want that courageous spirit. Jordan was absolutely terrified in that situation, but he still was selfless enough to let his mom and brother go ahead of him. I want that, putting other people first before me. I want that faith that Jordan had in those rescuers even though the outcome was tragic. Thank you so much for Jordan and his mom and brother. Thank you so much for his dad and other brothers who are no doubt proud of this young boy who did this extraordinary act. I ask that you keep watch over Jordan's family as they're mourning the loss of their brother, wife, and mom. I ask that you be with Blake, especially, in case he feels shame and/or guilt over what his brother did. Amen.

When I grow up, I want to be just like Jordan Rice.

If you wish to leave a message about Jordan or say something to the family, and I'm not too sure if it''s even sanctioned by them but whatever, please click here.

rio de janeiro, brasil

Apparently, Brasil* is having their own floody situation. So in the same manner as Brisbane, I'd like to ask you all to keep this country in your prayers too. I have a friend down there as well, and thankfully she's nowhere near the floods, but she's with friends. And if they're important to her, then they're important to me. Brasil has a School Of Ministry with Catch the Fire [which has the main one in Toronto], so if you could please pray for this country and everyone in it, that would be fantastic.

Thank you.

*This is how you really spell Brazil

faithful friday: forgiveness

Okay, so my wish is to start blogging more regularly and in order to do that, I have decided to devote certain days to specific topics. I'm hoping it'll make me more disciplined. Anyway on Fridays I'm hoping to talk about my faith in God and where He's taking me [sort of like what I blogged about last Friday].

What I want to talk about today is forgiveness. Not sure where this is going to go but that's okay.

So God has been speaking to me a lot about forgiving this person who has hurt me in the past. Now, I'm sure it wasn't intentional because if you were to meet them, you would see that they* had no mean bone in their body. But they still hurt me. Deeply. And I thought I had forgiven them, but as it turned out I had only forgiven them in my mind and not where it really mattered: my heart. In my mind, I have forgiven them but there was no depth to my prayer; I was just saying words. It would be a totally different thing if I had just forgiven from my heart because that's where my hurts are, where the pain still is. Because that's where the words will have depth; that's where true forgiveness comes from. It is borne out of the hurt and the pain that has happened within a person's heart.

I know this because recently, every single time they have come up in conversation, I have wanted to kill them. Or, at the very least, kicked their butt all the way to China and back. Not of the good. It's not healthy when every time you picture your heart, all you see is a big steel door with a padlock on it.

I could go into detail as to how they have hurt me, but I won't. Because then you'd want to kick their butt all the way to China and back and despite the hurts and unforgiveness I've locked up, they are really, very cool and I love them greatly.

Yeah, so, forgiveness. I'm going to be honest and lay it all out: I haven't forgiven them. Not by a long shot. God wants me to, I know that for sure, because He wants me to walk in freedom and let nothing hold me back. Besides, He has been bringing this up over and over again, so He obviously wants me to deal with it.

Every time it came up, I'm like, "No," and do something else instead. Like, "I'm not listening to You right now, blah, blah, blah."

Oh, you poor child. After many, many moments like these, God pulls out a whammy and hits me with a hammer that seems like 150lbs. Yay. He says to me, "How can you pour yourself into helping with the teens at church when you, yourself, aren't free and are held back by unforgiveness?" He just has to have the last word, doesn't He?

So, I've been thinking about it. And it's true because how can I expect to give what I have away to the teens when I can't even do something as simple as forgiving someone? So...I am on a journey right now where the destination is forgiveness. I honestly can't say I'm there yet, but I'm close. Really close.

"For we are not fighting against flesh-and-blood enemies, but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits.." - Ephesians 6:12 [NLT]

I believe that holding unforgiveness in your heart towards someone is basically fighting against them, and we aren't supposed to fight against humans; we're supposed to fight the wiles of the enemy with each other.

I'm human; I struggle with it sometimes but lucky for me, I have this amazing God who gives me grace abundantly every morning. I'm going to take this next week to really find it in my heart to forgive...even if it hurts.

brisbane, queensland, australia

This will be a little short and sweet post regarding the recent "inland tsunami" that has happened in Brisbane, Queensland, Australia right now.

It's absolutely terrible what's been happening - families torn apart, people missing, people dying - and I feel compelled to help in some small way [if I had my way, I'd be on a plane right about now].

That said, if you want to know more, and if you feel led to donate some money, here is the site right here.

As always, prayers are never turned down. This is close to my heart as one of the people I went to the School of Ministry with in Toronto lives there. His name is Brett.

Thank you.

who can comprehend?

Last month, I was at a conference in Toronto. And it was amazing. I was so blessed by the speakers and the worship there. But that's not what I wanted to talk about. What I wanted to talk about is something somebody said during a worship. She was talking about this verse in Isaiah that's about the stars in the sky and how God knows each and every one of those stars by name. Then she was saying if God cares that much about the stars, then how much more He cares about us. It was pretty sweet.

What she said has stuck with me all this week and when I was at worship practice for my church on Wednesday, one of the songs we had was "Indescribable". A beautiful song in itself but what really got to me and stayed with me all day today [yesterday?] was the line, "you placed the stars in the sky and you know them by name...you are amazing God."

God knows who we are. He calls us out, one by one, every single day. Not only that, but he calls out the names of billions of stars every single day. And if He does all that for stars, imagine how much more He cares for us. It's really mind-boggling because there are billions of stars and there are billions of people. If I decided to try to call out the names of every single person on the earth and every single star, I'd be in heaven before I even counted a quarter of them all.

"Look up into the heavens. Who created all the stars? He brings them out like an army, one after another, calling each by its name. Because of His great power and incomparable strength, not a single one is missing." - Isaiah 40:26

He knows who we are. Even with the most extreme, fundamentalist Muslim, He stills calls out their name, day after day after day. AAH! He knows us! He sees us and He hears us. We are not invisible to Him, we are not just here because of whatever. He really sees us and He really knows us. Every day He calls out, "Mandie, My favourite one. Sarah, My favourite one. Bob, My favourite one. Jeff, My favourite one. Justin, My favourite one..." And so on and so on.

And with that, it just hit me: He loves me with an everlasting love and He will not let me go. He cherishes me, He adores me. Ha ha! He loves me! He really, really loves me.

And He loves you too. He calls out your name every single day. We are so beautiful and precious to Him.

o christmas tree...

I recently got this unique picture in my head of Jesus and us. I love to stir the pot, so this made me especially happy in regard to those people who think Christmas trees are pagan. And they would be right. But I don't want to talk about that. I'd rather talk about my picture. Because it's cool.

So I had this image of a gloriously decorated Christmas tree. It was so beautiful and crisp. The colors were outstanding and it was so mesmerizing. It was unlike any Christmas tree I have ever seen before. It was brightly lit and so inviting.

Underneath the tree, there were all these beautifully wrapped presents. Big ones, small ones, fat ones, skinny ones, all shapes and sizes the presents were. And each and every one of them were wrapped with such care and love. You could tell.

Now, from what I got from it, it was like Jesus is that beautifully decorated tree. He's so beautiful and awesome and there are no descriptive words in all the world to fully describe Jesus Christ. He's that amazing! When you look at a Christmas tree, you just have to smile because to me, personally, it represents love, giving, and wonder. Just to name a few.

And the beautiful presents that were wrapped with such care and love? That's us. We are all beautiful. We all have something to offer the world. We all come in different shapes and sizes, but we all are a gift unto the world...just like Jesus was the gift unto us. And I believe that the presents lying underneath the tree represented us lying beneath Jesus. When we take the time to lie in His presence, we also get a bit of His wonderful, beautiful majesty.

Have you ever noticed that when a tree isn't lit, it's not as pretty as it is when it's lit up? Even the presents don't look as nice! We are called to be the light of the world. How can we be the light if we are never turned on? If our Light, who is Jesus, doesn't shine through us by our own flesh, then it's like we are just like everybody else, basically [and everybody else is beautiful too by the way].

So let your light shine! Be reminded of Jesus and how, when we get into His presence we also shine a bit more brighter, when you spot a Christmas tree!

I don't know about you, but I'm taking back the Christmas tree from those pagans.

the lost get found: redux

I was lying awake earlier in bed when I came to the realization that my earlier post could be misunderstood. Because I remembered that I forgot to put in one very important detail:

"No way do I condone in any way shape or form the kidnapping, rape, and murder of little children. What Garrido did was horrendous. While I do believe that he is not beyond redemption, I hope to God that he will never be allowed to go near little children again. Ever. He should pay for what he did. With regards to my entry, I am deeply sorry for what it could read as. I repeat: I don't condone rape, murder, torture, kidnapping, abuse, etc., etc."

the lost get found

As a child, I always had a thing for the people who were classified as "unlovable", "beyond redemption", "lost cause". So I guess it's not really a big surprise when back in 2006 God revealed my destiny for me (actually it was back in 2005, but that's a slight technicality).

And isn't that what Jesus wants us to do? Go to the lost and the unlovables and just love on them? After all, that's what He did. He didn't sit with with Herod and Pilate and the high priests and shared laughs over the finest meats and breads. No, He went and sat with the lepers, the prostitutes, and the demonic oppressed and shared His bread and fish with them. And He just loved them where they were and for who they were. And yeah, it was probably messy. After all, the crowd He was rolling with all were some of the uncoolest people you'd ever pick to hang with: tax collectors, fishermen (which I suspect were on the lowest rung of society's food chain back then), and whoever else.

So, yeah. Jesus, who should be our role model, put a huge emphasis on going where the unlovables are and loving them where they are at. Shouldn't we do the same? And yes, it will be hard. "Hard?" I can hear you say. "I love the lost. I'm all for loving the lost." Oh, really. I am sure that it is good in theory, but in actual practice it is, well, uncomfy. Trust me, I know. I have had issues this week.

I am sure that you all are familiar with the Jaycee Dugard case. If not, I shall recap it for you. In 1991, 11-year-old Jaycee Dugard was abducted by Phillip Garrido (the guy in the picture) and only now she has been found, alive, and with two daughters (ages 15 & 11) - fathered by Garrido. For those who do not know, Garrido is a known sex offender.

Do you see where I'm going with this? Yeah, loving the unlovables is easier said than done because who could love people who rape little kids and then kills them? Such as John Couey, who kidnapped little Jessica Lunsford and then killed her.

I remember having an awesome prayer sesh in my bedroom one night. It was awesome! I was in the zone, Holy Spirit showed up and I had a great time praying for Jaycee and her two daughters. Then God brought an image of Garrido to my mind. And He said, "Pray for him." And I was like, "No way. He raped a little girl and who knows what else. He doesn't deserve it." And God was all, "You're right; he doesn't. But then, neither did you." If I were a chicken, my feathers would be all unruffled by that. I mean, what do you say to that? Well, as it turned out, nothing. So I grudgingly accepted what God was asking of me. Turns out it wasn't as easy as I thought it would be. It took me about five minutes to start praying for this guy. My flesh did not want to pray for him. My spirit did; the words were there. My tongue just did not want to utter them. And could you blame my sin-polluted flesh? I mean, here is a guy who kidnapped and then raped an innocent girl. That's huge..to our society. But to God? God loves Garrido just as much as he loves you and me. And as much as some people will hate to hear this, Garrido is just as much a victim as Jaycee or Jessica. Why? Well, it's not like toddlers say, "Mommy, when I grow up, I want to kill and rape people." No, it's most likely that the spirit of perversiveness had been brought upon them by other people.

So if God gives you a heart for the lost, get ready. Because I'm the kind of girl who feels bad for sex offenders, serial killers, and Scott Peterson.

you're the voice

I never really thought that my voice was important growing up. As a teen, I would pray for celebrities and offer prayer requests for them at my old youth group but I would get shot down alot and I didn't really understand why. You see, I had no problem praying for celebrities because the way I saw it, they needed prayer too. Maybe then Hollyweird would turn back into Hollywood. But I guess the people around me never really got that.

So I kept my mouth shut. For years and years. Isn't it amazing how one small instance in your entire life can bring you to your knees? Even while I was at the School of Ministry in Toronto, I would just keep my mouth shut. After all, I wanted people to like me and the only way I knew how was to not talk, for fear of saying something "stupid".

That all changed at the "Heavy Rain" conference [a young adult conference at TACF] of last year [or was it this year, since it took place around New Year's Eve]. For whatever reason, I got the freedom I so desperately needed to use my voice as a tool for God. It was awesome! All of a sudden, I was whooping and hollering and screaming and shouting!! It was pretty cool.

Now, God has been speaking to me about voices. Lately, I've been feeling like there has been tension in the atmosphere during worship at church, and I think it's because people have been silenced by the enemy for far too long. I just feel that he has been whispering stories to them, saying, "What do you know?" and "Come on, you aren't important, what do you have to say?" I should know. The enemy has been telling me these lies for so many years that when I look back, I feel disgusted with my past. It's time to take back what the enemy has stolen and start using the most powerful weapon that we have. See, the enemy doesn't want us to use our voices because using our voices is dangerous to him, especially when we invoke the name Jesus Christ when we want him to go away.

Anyway, God's been saying that your voice is important to Him. He gave you a voice to use to bring glory to God. Don't EVER let anyone bring you down by making you feel as if you aren't good enough or what you say is not good. It is good. After all, God had given you a voice for a reason. We don't use the mouth to catch flies, right? And if you look in the Bible, there are hundreds [if not thousands] of verses talking about your voice, mostly in Psalms. So God has given us voices for a reason and a purpose. Remember, you're the voice!

faced with my own mortality...

I suppose it happens sooner or later to (almost) everyone. However, since the news broke about Heath Ledger's death, this topic seems to be on my brain all the time. He was only 28 - just a few years older than me.

Of course, me being a Christian it shouldn't be that big of a deal. I know for a fact that I'll be going to Heaven after I die so I shouldn't be disturbed. But I am. Being 24, I like to think that I still have a ways to go before I pass on, but reading about these deaths at young ages, it makes me realize that I could go at any time. I could get hit by a car or I could die in a traffic accident, but my mind seems to think that I'm somewhat invincible right now.

Funny how minds do that, hmm? I suppose it's our selfishness that seems to think that this is our world and everybody else just lives in it. We read about death every single day in the paper and we hear about death every single day when we watch the news but still we think that "couldn't possibly happen to me." And yet, it can.

Me, I'm glad that this story had affected me deeply. It made me realize that I've become desensitized to the death and destruction that we see and read every single day and I don't want that anymore. It's horrible!