A Love Affair

"This world has nothing for me."

As many of you probably know, this is a line from a popular worship song (with a great video) called "Rescue" by Desperation Band. I really love the song, I really love the line, and I really wish that I believed it.

I'm not saying that I don't think it's true; I'm saying that I wish I believed it. 

Confused? Well let me explain: I know that when I die, the only things that will matter are the things that I've done for Jesus—everything else will fade away—but I don't live my life this way. I'm caught in this horrible predicament of loving God and loving the world, and I doubt there's a more terrifying or unfulfilling place to be. 

It frustrates me because sometimes I am ON FIRE for God. Over the summer, I had an amazing experience coaching at an FCA camp, and I came back home passionate and spiritually-renewed; all I wanted to do was pray, worship, and read my Bible. I had big plans to start Bible studies and plan youth group events and witness to my friends and lead a life wholly dedicated to bringing glory to Jesus' name. I was firmly set on living for Christ and never turning back.

But soon those aspirations were superseded by a whole new set of longings and desires. It was my last month of summer and I wanted to have fun. I obsessed over how I looked and what people thought of me, and soon the Bible verses on my Facebook page were replaced by quotes from Daniel Tosh, I put down the New Testament and picked up People Magazine, and I traded in Hillsong United for Jam'n 94.5. 

If any of you have been where I am, you know how frustrating it is. I know that when I'm standing before Jesus, popularity and prosperity won't matter, but I strive for them anyways.

Galatians 5:19-21 says, "The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity, and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions, and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God."

I've had to memorize this verse for school, and I practically know it by heart, so why do I ignore it? I have no excuse; I know what the Bible says and I know what's demanded of me. I mean, this verse states as clearly as possible that if we are living in sin then we are not alive in Christ. The Apostle Paul is not ambiguous here and he holds nothing back. He writes it concisely and powerfully: If we live like this, we will not inherit the kingdom of God. 

So why do I still sin? Why do I still gossip about who broke up with who? Why do I still judge people that I have never taken the chance to get to know? Why do I still want to do good things so I can bring glory to MY name, and not to the name of Jesus?

Why am I still enticed by the empty calories that Bud Light commercials are offering me? I mean, I wrote an entry on why I don't drink just last month, but it has still been hard for me to say no to alcohol since then. I have some friends who have no desire to drink and aren't tempted at all by the freedom to shed their shyness and insecurity and run out to the middle of the dance floor and do the Dougie. I honestly wish that it was that easy for me to say "no," but it's not. It's difficult for me to turn down a rum and coke when everyone around me seems to be having a grand ole drunken time.

In James 4:4, we are warned, "You adulterous people, don't you know that friendship with the world is hatred toward God? Anyone who chooses to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God."

God can't associate with sin because it's against his very nature. We need to stop looking at sin as simply us doing something wrong and realize that it's a personal smite against our Savior. We never think of ourselves as God’s enemies—that’s Satan’s role—but when we are working with the world, we are fighting against the will of God.

When we sin, we forget who we are hurting. We lose sight of the cross and the pain that Jesus suffered simply because he loves us. We take his grace for granted. 

Too often, I play the grace card. I figure that God will forgive me and that it's really not a big deal if I laugh at a "That's what she said!" joke or tell a white lie to get out of trouble. But the truth is, God demands holiness from us. He's not okay with us just giving Him Sunday mornings and thirty seconds before meals. All of our time, energy, talent, and heart should be His. It's not like tithing; 10% doesn't cut it.

We're all human and will never be perfect. We'll always have our struggles and our sinful desires, but we need to stop condoning our actions. Of course it is easier to only think about ourselves and do what we want to do, but that doesn't mean that it's okay. We need to strive for holiness.

Revelation 3:16 says, "So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth."

Basically, we're like sour milk to Jesus. We make him sick. He'd rather we were one way or the other, instead of straddling the fence between Him and sin. We can't serve two masters, but we try to anyway. 

I know that it’s a bit cliché to say that we are the “Bride of Christ,” but it’s a good metaphor. It’s as if we have this amazing husband who is always patient and loving, who doesn’t yell at us or belittle us, who offers us comfort and encouragement when we are struggling, and then we go out and cheat on him with some jerky guy we meet at the gym. Every time we sin, we are cheating on Jesus. It sounds strange, I know, but it’s true. If we are really, truly, in love with Jesus Christ, then we wouldn’t even want to search for anything else; Jesus would satisfy all our desires.

I think I love Jesus. I love to talk with him and sing to him and read His Word, and I know that He is always there for me when nobody else is. But if I truly love Jesus, then why do I cheat on him over and over again, every single day? Why do I search for happiness from friends and guys and success and popularity? If I truly love Jesus, then why do I take advantage of his unfailing love and never-ending grace? Why do I behave in ways that push him farther and farther away? Why do I continue to hurt him?

If I truly love Jesus, then why do I still lust after the world?

This One's for the Guys

I see misandry everywhere.

From websites dedicated to funny—and definitely off-color—jokes about the, uh, shortcomings of men, to USA Today articles bemoaning the lack of men attending church on Sundays, to ladies in the mall who snarl at guys who open doors for them, it seems that hating on men is the thing to do. Maybe there is some truth to the sentiment that good men are of a dying breed; perhaps, as more women have stepped up socially and professionally, more guys have spent all day sitting on the couch playing Call of Duty.

But it's unfair to criticize men without also noting the great things that they do for us. I've been blessed to have great men in my life—my dad, grandpa, brother, uncles, teachers, cousins, coaches, and friends—who have shown me what real men look like.

So while it's easy to complain about how they burp, don't wash the dishes, and leave the seat up, let's not forget why we love them.

We love men because:


They spend less time in the shower, leaving all the hot water for us.

Their hairy legs make ours look better.

They don't really care if we gain 5 pounds (but gain 15 and watch out!)

They never ruin our binging by saying, "Ugh, I wish I could, but I'm on a diet."

They don't PMS. Or if they do, they can't use it as an excuse.

Men's cologne smells good.

They don't get as caught up in drama.

They might not notice our new haircuts, but they don't notice all our pimples either.

They keep creepy guys away from us.

They don't cry as much as us.

They open doors.

They pay for dinner and a movie.

They don't have annoying, high-pitched voices.

They don't care if our Coach bags and Burberry scarves are fake.

We don't have to try too hard for them to find us attractive.

They give up their seats on the subway.

They drop us off at the door, and then go park the car.

They aren't afraid to make decisions.

They always eat our leftovers.

They don't take a long time to get ready.

All they need is chips and a football game to be content.


They kill spiders for us (sometimes).

This guy knows how to get it done.

They heat up the car for us.

They mow the lawn.

They know how to change our oil.

They can reach things that we can't.

They lift things that are too heavy for us.

With a new haircut and a quick shave, they look like they just had a makeover.

They give up their jackets/sweatshirts for us.

They carry our bags.

They let us cry on their shoulders.

They show off to get out attention.

They can lose weight quickly.

They are impressed with our gracefulness.

When we kayak, they like to paddle so that we can rest.

They make us feel safe.

They can paint their chests at sporting events . . . without getting arrested. 


They give us foot rubs.

They can fix stuff.

They walk on the windy side and the side closer to traffic.

They like to drive so that we can kick our feet up on the dashboard and relax.

They take up less closet space.

They give us piggyback rides.

We don't have to dress up to impress them.

They carry our purses.

They can do a lot of  pushups.

They pack less when we go on vacation so that we can pack more.

And then they carry our bags.

They hold the umbrella.

Their deep voices sound better for theater, public speaking, and broadcasting.

Make them nachos and they think that you're Gordon Ramsay.

They aren't as absolutely psycho as we are.

They buy us roses and chocolate; we buy them a card.

They bus us diamonds; we buy them a sweater.

They don't freak out at the sight of Justin Bieber, or any other person they haven't seen in about 3 hours.

They don't need three friends to accompany them to the bathroom.

Athletically, they can do amazing things that girls just can't. Seriously, when was the last time you saw a woman throw 95 mph or take off from the foul line and throw one down with two hands?

They pump our gas.

They love to barbecue.

They shovel the driveway.

They don't spend money on makeup and hair supplies.

They don't play mind-games; when they're mad, they tell us.

They pick us up from the airport at 3 AM.

When it's 15 degrees outside, they scrape the snow off our windshields.

They watch The Proposal and The Notebook with us.

They look great in hats.







So, sure—men refuse to ask for directions, forget our birthdays, and can't multitask to save their lives—but that's because they are different from us. Certainly some men become 2nd-grade teachers and some women are presidents, but in general, males and females were created with different strengths and weaknesses. Equality doesn't necessarily mean the same.

Men aren't perfect, but they do a lot of great things that go unnoticed. Of course, some women do these things and some men don't, but how many times has another woman given up her seat for you on the subway?

As Flannery O'Connor said, "A good man is hard to find." So if you have been blessed with great men in your life, let them know that you are thankful for them. Don't take the little things for granted. Let them know that you appreciate everything that they do.

Then maybe we can still harass them about leaving the seat up . . .

Panacea for Pain

Flashback to 2005.

Hurricane Katrina decimated the South, Kanye West lamented that "George Bush doesn't care about black people," Tom Cruise jumped on Oprah's couch, Rihanna burst through our speakers with her first big hit, and Brokeback Mountain "came out" in theaters,

I was thirteen, and before MySpace was filled with user names like "Taylor likes Facebook better," my Top Friends was dominated by "Katie! at the Disco" and "My Chemical Megan" (after popular bands of the time).

Long before Instagram, middle schoolers were perfecting the "mirror pose" in their bathrooms, complete with pouted lips, deuced-up fingers, and more black eyeliner than Marilyn Manson.

Yep, 2005 was when emo went mainstream—when the local mall rats traded in their black leather boots, fishnet stockings, and spiked mohawks for purple Converse shoes, skinny jeans, and side-swept bangs.

That was six years ago and a lot has changed since then: the polish of Facebook has overtaken the creative mess of MySpace, and snapbacks and leggings have reopened the gender gap that emo's androgynous style once tried to close.

But some things have remained popular: long, dyed side bangs, Converse shoes, bands like Paramore . . . and cutting.

I was not familiar with "intentional self-inflected injury" until my early teens, when some of the kids at my Christian school were struggling with it. I began to notice how certain classmates only wore long-sleeve shirts, even when it was 90 degrees outside, and I'd catch glimpses of the cuts on girls' wrists when their bracelets slid down their arms.

I didn't understand why anyone would ever try to hurt themselves; I mean, I cry for hours when I get a splinter or stub my toe.

But then some of my friends began to open up to me and I realized that, in a way, the physical sensation dulled them to the much more potent sting of emotional pain. Like most teenage girls, they were self-conscious. They thought they were fat, ugly, and worthless.

The weirdest part is that from my objective view, all of these girls were fantastic: they were smart, athletic, pretty, and had family and friends who loved them. They had everything going for them, but they couldn't see it. And the songs they were listening to didn't help.

See, in the same way that teen suicide rates skyrocketed in the 1990s after Kurt Cobain killed himself, cutting gained popularity in the 2000s after bands like Dashboard Confessional scored a younger, more mainstream fan base.

One of my favorite songs, "Ohio is for Lovers," contains the following chorus: "So cut my wrists and black my eyes, so I can fall asleep tonight." In "Black Dahlia," Hollywood Undead screams, "Pull up my sleeves and see the pattern of my cuts."

I'm not saying that emo music is the sole reason for the spike in cutting, but its lyrics certainly glorify the masochistic behavior. For kids dealing with abuse, divorce, or other stress, cutting can be one of the only ways they find relief. They're searching for help and this is the answer they're getting.

The emo subculture is just one example of a generation starving for meaning.

The truth is, our youth culture is depressing. A lot of us grew up in broken families that didn't provide the security and affirmation that we so desperately craved, so we looked for it in other places. We turned to drugs, alcohol, sex, cutting . . . anything that could numb the pain, at least for a little while.

Recent studies show that 15-24 year-olds account for over 9 million new STD cases each year and that 7.2% of all babies are born to teenage mothers. 72% of teens admit to drinking alcohol by high school graduation, 37% by the time they finish middle school. In 2009, over 46% of high school seniors and 15% of 8th-graders answered that they had smoked weed before, and 24% of seniors had tried a drug other than marijuana.

A 2010 study estimated that up to 37% of high schoolers have intentionally injured themselves, and the Center for Disease Control and Prevention found that 18% of high school girls had considered suicide and 9.3% had tried, while 9.2% of guys had considered it and 4.6% had tried. Suicide is the third-leading cause of death among adolescents.

I'm sorry to bore you with all these numbers, but I'm trying show you that I'm not making this stuff up; clearly, teens are looking for ways to escape, whether it's cutting, drinking, or downing pills. It has me wondering: where is the joy?

Broken people from broken homes are living in a broken world. As Christians, why aren't we showing them the only way to truly escape the anguish of the world? Why aren't we showing them love, hope, and joy?

For many of us, it's because we aren't experiencing that joy ourselves. About a quarter of Americans will suffer from depression at some point in their lives, and the statistics are virtually the same for Evangelicals. It's hard to help others when we're hurting, too.

I understand that depression is more than just a thought pattern and that it is an actual medical condition. For many people, it is a genetic trait that they cannot simply ignore or pray away.

But I'm not actually talking about those Christians who are clinically depressed. I'm talking about the rest of us. I'm talking about the 75% who won't ever suffer from the condition but are still bereft of joy on a daily basis. In John 15:11, we are promised, "Your joy will overflow!" So why isn't it?

Most of us are so caught up in the hectic frenzy of our daily lives that we forget to smile and have fun, because we have bills to pay, mouths to feed, and people to please. We let worry and stress rule our lives.

Trust me, I struggle heavily with both of those. I'm kind of a control freak and I hate the thought of failure or letting someone down. This mindset helped me earn a good score on the SATs, but too often it has kept me from enjoying life.

For example, in high school I used to spend New Year's Eve skiing with my friends. After dozens of times down the slopes, I have never fallen, not once. I also haven't made it over 3 m.p.h. and I also haven't had any fun. Sometimes I get so worried about falling down that I can't even enjoy myself.

I never liked how much I worried, but I didn't understand it was sinful until I read a section on it from Francis Chan's Crazy Love. Chan states,

"Worry implies that we don't quite trust that God is big enough, powerful enough, or loving enough to take care of what is happening in our lives. Stress says that the things we are involved in are important enough to merit our impatience, our lack of grace towards others, or our tight grip of control."

When I worry and stress, I'm acting selfishly. I want to change that, so one of my New Year's resolutions this year is to stop worrying and stressing so much, because nothing I'm going through—no matter how horrible—should keep me from being filled with God's peace and joy.

The world is depressing, but we don't have to buried alive by the mire that it's shoveling onto us. We have a way out, not when we get to heaven, but right here, right now, while we're still on earth. We shouldn't continually lose battles when Christ has already won the war. God, the only true panacea for our pain, has already made us victorious over everything that the world throws our way, and no amount of sickness, stress, or financial woes can take away the joy that He has given us.

So while we spend January guilting ourselves into going to the gym more and drinking less coffee, remember that Philippians 4 implores us, "Always be full of joy in the Lord. I say it again—rejoice!"

Find things that fill you up with joy. If you like to paint, set aside time for that. If exercising puts you in a good mood, go for a jog every day. Don't become so overbooked that you have no time to enjoy yourself. God doesn't want us to be stressed-out, joyless, just-make-it-through-the-day worriers. He wants us to be happy!

Enjoy the little things in life that are often forgotten and overlooked. Smile when you see a toddler running through the aisles at the supermarket, when a car flashes you to tell you that a cop car is waiting for you up ahead, and when you step outside in March for the first real day of spring.

Find the joy that God has promised you and share it with others.

Go out and provide healing to the people in your community who need it. Don't write them off as "troubled," but see them as God's creations who are dying for something, anything, that can give them relief. Love them, spend time with them, show them the joy of Jesus Christ.

Back in 2005, when I was only 13 myself, I learned that I wanted to work with teenagers for the rest of my life. I realized that God gave me a passion for young girls who are desperate to find love, peace, and joy in a culture that provides minimal lasting support.


What gifts has God blessed you with? How can you use them to bring joy to a dark and desolate cultural landscape? Look for ways every day to share the love of Christ with the people in your community who so desperately need victory over the battles they are facing every day. Sometimes the best way to get out of a slump is to help someone else.

Our lives will never be perfect, and sometimes they will seem downright horrible, but we have hope in Jesus Christ. Let's not forget that.

If Tom Cruise can be filled with so much happiness that he slides to his knees, fist-pumps, and jumps on a couch on national television, then there's no reason that those of us who have been filled up with Christ's love can't also be joyful every day.

2 Corinthians 6: 4-10
Rather, as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: in great endurance; in troubles, hardships and distresses; in beatings, imprisonments and riots; in hard work, sleepless nights and hunger; in purity, understanding, patience and kindness; in the Holy Spirit and in sincere love; in truthful speech and in the power of God; with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and in the left; through glory and dishonor, bad report and good report; genuine, yet regarded as impostors; known, yet regarded as unknown; dying, and yet we live on; beaten, and yet not killed; sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; poor, yet making many rich; having nothing, and yet possessing everything.