An Image Crisis

Where have I been these past few weeks? It seems like I've had zero motivation to write for anyone but myself...and I'm really quite sorry because I realize that somehow (I suppose by the grace of Jesus) this blog encourages others. Regardless, of my past laziness and my now unconfident feelings to publicly write again.. I will. I have something important to share.

It all happened when, about three days ago, I neutrally commented on something about myself... it wasn't negative but it wasn't positive. I can't exactly remember what I said about myself, so forgive me for the lack of specific example..but maybe it was something about my appearance (all in context it made sense) and immediately, a little girl I babysit for stopped in her tracks, she looked straight at me and asked, "Anna, what does it mean to be an image bearer?" I didn't really pick up on her point because I had so nonchalantly said that comment I wasn't realizing where she was going with it (more like the "trap" she was setting :)). Anyways, I responded, "I suppose it means 'likeness' or 'to be like'." Dead panned she declared, "You are like God, he wants you to love that you get to be like him!"

Caught entirely off guard by her kind rebuke, I nodded my head in agreement. She will never understand that those words moved me- my heart flinched because of what she said, my soul winced at her direct honesty and my failure to live accordingly.

Here's the string of thoughts that came from her statement "You are LIKE God, he wants you to love that YOU get to be LIKE him." I've thought a lot about what she said, so I've taken her words to lengths and depths, hopefully it all makes sense.

From the second man was created, God, in his ridiculously sweet nature, made us in His image. He desired me to have a heart like his, to have eyes that see like his, ears that hear like his, feet that serve like his; He wanted me to know, in the deepest part of my heart, that I am modeled after the most perfect Being in all of time and outside of all time.
I get easily sidetracked though. The enemy knows how to tug my heart strings. In my twisted sinful heart, I begin chasing images that I can never have- things that I seriously can never be. Why? Because I already have an image... I'm already modeled after something..SomeONE. That's where sin comes in (ie our forgetfulness that we already have an image) we try to find other things to define us instead of yielding to our innate image after God. We decide that "we've got it all under control" that "we know what we want" and live a life contrary, in direct rebellion against, who we were created to be.

BAM! That's who we are. That's who I am.

In essence, I'm one of those little girls who refuses to come when I'm called by my real name because I decided I wanted to be a Juliette instead of an Anna. You know, Anna just didn't cut it any more.... Juliette sounds so much more exciting, thrilling, beautiful- I'd rather be known by that name. Mom? I hope you're okay that. I just really don't like the name you gave me... Please, would you start calling me Juliette?
It doesn't work!!! No matter how much I want to be a Juliette, I will forever be known by "Anna" to the people who truly know me.

This is the best analogy I can think of to relate how our heavenly Papa looks at me when I want my sin and my sinful ways instead of the image I already have. But, you know what, no matter what Jesus knows me. I can claim a different name all I want, but he knows me. And he tells me he desires that I claim the name HE has given me- the name he created me in. That's the part where I repent and Jesus' blood washed me clean...and then I WALK IN THE NAME HE HAS GIVEN ME. His own image.

If you are in a spot, right now, where you are only known by your sins... by the way people SEE you live, rest in the fact that there is HOPE. The very One who gave you your image knows the image you bear even when you forget. He knows your heart. I beg you, repent and be called by your real name.




**Post inspired by my reading of Colossians 3, Genesis 1, and the kind reminders Jesus gives through little children**

*Blank*

You wanna know a thought that has struck me of recent? I am just one away...
One too terrible a day with one too terrible a thought entertained and I could...blank. Fill in that blank with whatever you want. Truly. I am human. So are you. For that reason alone blank can be the very worst thought imaginable or the very best- it's full of potential, possibility. Have you ever humbled yourself enough to look at the "worst person" on the face of this planet and say, "If I had been where you were, thought what you thought and felt what you felt...I could be your replacement?"

If you're being honest with yourself, it's quite possible the thought never plucked your heartstrings.

Why have I allowed myself to loose the realization of my humanness? You know the part of me that is utterly flawed? [What does this word flaw even mean?  Flaw: noun: 3. a crack, break, or breach.] Maybe, what I mean to say is, how can I, with my incomplete (yet totally understood) knowledge of the brokenness I consist of, the breakage in my soul, or better yet, the breach in my intended nature surfaced with the moment of my first breath, how can I, with all this proof of my flawed-ness look at another with eyes glazed in judgement?

Jesus was perfect- human, yet no soul flaws. For the sinners, the flawed ones, that crossed his path, the thought he extended was compassion. He was moved to compassion. And he had compassion on them.  He had compassion for these people. He had compassion on them, had compassion on them, compassion on them, compassion on them. Jesus was so perfect, he could/can/did/does overcome the blank I easily fall into and you easily judge or the blank you fall into and I easily judge. Funny how both of us are sinning in that last sentence; Jesus is the only blameless Lamb.

Quick recap: I (a sinner) cross another sinners path, my first flawed thought would be to judge, to lack understanding. Jesus (opposite a sinner) crosses sinners' paths and has compassion.
[boy, are we a messed up mess or what?]

I write this post because (A) I am convicted and (B) I have been watching countless and differing documentaries that share something in common: whenever the title Christian comes up, the word, by definition, in association is judgmental. [The second is hypocrite, but that's for another time.]

I plead with the true believers, reach deep into your heart and start unfolding the (metaphorical) slips of paper which have blank written on it, take a cold hard look at them. Without Jesus, this is who you are. It is ONLY because of Jesus you are no longer defined by a terrible word(s) that shakes the very corridors of your heart with shame, guilt and fear. You are (re)defined. But to those who are still known only by past/current/future mistakes, I implore us, as Christians, to look with eyes washed in compassion to replace the glaze of judgement. Compassion was the tagline in Jesus' ministry. It should be the same in ours.

Considerations of Recent

If college is the normal route, what is the appeal? Is it just to attain an education, a certain status in society? Or is it greater? More meaningful? Perhaps it allows for college-specific life experience unattainable anywhere else? Could I achieve the same if I were to leave this societal suburbia, catch a flight 3,000 miles away from extravagance, comfortable and all that has been my life thus far? Are these thoughts screaming cold feet? ...finish what you start, finish what you start... But did I even start this? I'm glad it began, but if I didn't start it then does ending become necessity?

Half the day, I find myself wondering how I am where I am and how I became this 2%. The percentage that never ever worries about food on the spacious kitchen table inside the perfectly beautiful american house so much so that I can complain about the food served. I am thankful for the food. The spacious kitchen table. The perfectly beautiful and american house. Every bit of it I am grateful and honored to have. Nonetheless, I can't help but think somewhere along the line I got this askew and began my slew. (couldn't help it.) How did I win this lottery? What about the 98%? Anyway, I've been reading entirely too often recently, and one of the heavier choice reads has been Mere Christianity in hopes to finally finish it (after 3 attempts)- that, and it's a class assignment now.        
Something Clyde Staples spoke resounded so deeply inside me that I cannot shake it, "I am afraid the only safe rule is to give more than we can spare. In other words, if our expenditure of comforts, luxuries, amusements, etcetera is up to the standard common among those with the same income as our own, we are probably giving way too little. If our charities do not pinch or hamper us, I should say that they are too small. There ought to be things we should like to do and cannot do because our charitable expenditure excludes them." Which struck me. Hit me. Sucker punched me right on the spot titled "I have this all figured out" that somehow printed itself on my heart. What do I abandon in order help the cause of  poor? I would be generous to myself if I merely said "not enough." To be honest and looking at the grand scheme, I give nothing and I forfeit nothing. Great self realization... not really, actually.

And what about this thing called "relationship"? By saying there are seasons for friendships and relationships, am I really just wimping out or speaking out of ignorance? Are the so called seasons more purposeful when it comes to the title placement? Could it be that my generation has cheapened the definition of friendship to an extent that there will hardly be any relationship that last long enough? Maybe our societal thinking is backwards, the exception should be a short-lasting friendship and not a long-lasting one?

So, I'll just apologize right off the bat, (i've been reading a book of idioms recently, as well. making a new kind of splash in the pool of conversation.) for any misunderstandings you may think or have. I mostly wrote this just to write. And I wrote it for those who may have considered the same considerations I have...as of recent.

The End.

It was forever ago. Maybe a lifetime- or possibly a different one in its entirety. During the spell when night and day reversed and sleeplessness owned routine. He was her intrigue, everything about him. And she was to him more or less than will ever be revealed or recognized. He stepped with mystery, clasped his hands tightly together but only held the suffocating air of emptiness. Oh, those eyes- icey, chilling, but not quite frozen- annihilating boundaries. When they crumbled, her heart felt boundless, total freedom exhilarated the atmosphere. A frenzied flame to her naivety. Hind-sighting, the only view is half- nothing is full- the picture imprinted onto the ravines of her soul is half of a smile, half of a heart... a clear division of the outer and the inner. An unhappy mind in a place of joyous occasion is a doomed concoction of misery and misunderstanding. But what was replaying in that mind? Those eyes? Questioning herself, puzzle piecing together the very minutia that entailed her being; perhaps it was her. The quest to complete his smile ensued. Regrettably. Pointlessly. The secrets that inevitably lay within the sunken corner of his mouth unnerved her to the core- mystery waged its war inside her mind and the aftermath was cruel. But, the truth is, only half of his heart was ever placed in her small, inexperienced hands. Some would think this a sad story, I agree- it was. They stamped any togetherness with finality and titled it~ The End. Things end, that isn't bad... it's only tragic when a finality lays claim to an unknown, unsettled corridor of the human heart.