Tis the Season for a Testimony

I've felt a strong urge to bear my testimony over the past few days. And since the internet is full of testimonies (well founded or otherwise) what better place?

I grew up in the Mormon culture. It is a culture like none other. Many Christians believe it to be a cult (more on that later). I am very fond of the good upbringing and stabilization that church affords its members. However, I always found myself lacking. I would read a verse in the bible like the one that says "by grace ye are saved and not by works less any man should boast". I probably paraphrased, but anyone with a bit of Biblical training would understand where I'm going. The LDS church (fond as I am of Mormons) added a bit to that verse. They say that by grace we are saved after all that we can do.

Okay okay...LDS members claim that the bible has been translated a million times and things have been lost. I understand that...but consider this:

The one true living loving God who really loves and cares for his people and wants them to come to him and live with him probably wouldn't make it so hard to get there...right? After attempting to be Mormon for a good portion of my adolescence, I was finally starting to feel buried under guilt, shame, and all of the responsibility that Mormon's have in doing all they can do to get to heaven.

I talked to one of the Bishops who suggested that I read the Book of Mormon to get a better testimony of it and to pray Moroni's Prayer at the end asking with a sincere heart whether it was true. I thought, coming from the Bishop (pastor) I should probably give this a shot.

So I did...

I spent a few months reading the Book of Mormon, holy cow did it make me feel good to tell all of my Mormon friends that I had made it through this book. Any who, I read it. Then I asked with as much sincerity as I could muster for God to tell me whether it was true......and then, nothing.

more nothing....

I figured I wasn't being sincere enough, so I tried to invite the spirit...I cried, I read some more of the book...and asked again, "Lord, is the Book of Mormon true?"

more nothing....

Every Mormon I talked to told me that I should get a burning in my bosum confirming that the book was true. I got nothing... For several days I prayed and pleaded every night for the Lord to manifest the truth of the Book of Mormon to me, and every night I got nothing.

Obviously this cast a bit of doubt on the situation. I started to wonder if God really did exsist. I started to worry if whether or not I was sincere or if some sin was keeping me from hearing God speak to me. I had never heard him or felt him in the way I thought I should. I began to think deeper into the situation wondering, "if there is a God, and he knows me and loves me...why would it be so dang hard to hear him? Why would he make it so hard for his children to communicate with him? What I needed was a neon sign from him telling me whether it was him in my head or something else. I couldn't understand that if he wanted me in heaven so badly, why would he make it incredibly difficult to get there?

Well, these questions would never be answered fully, at least not be Mormon doctrine. I had to leave. I fell away from Church altogether, I was mad at God for never answering me that night, I was mad that my family wasn't what I thought a good family should be. I didn't understand why God put me in certain situations and never helped me get out.

What I didn't know, was that he was helping me get out. Not just out of my bad situations, but out of a church system that was slowing strangling my spirit from me. I wandered for a few years being mad at everything.

Eventually, I started feeling empty again. I wasn't making it financially, mentally, or spiritually. I needed to believe in God again. I wanted to go back to church. I almost made the mistake of rejoining Mormonism, but I really didn't want the judgment that unfortunately resides there for anyone who doesn't meet the status quo. I wanted the unconditional acceptance and love that they talked about so much in the bible. Why isn't that present in the LDS church?

I wandered a little longer thinking about going back, but something always kept me from that place...I just couldn't bring myself to walk back in there and have them call me sister White to my face, and talk about my life behind my back. Then a wonderful thing happened.

I went on a date with a great guy (now my husband). We had a terrific time and when I asked about a possible second date, he invited me to church with him. Imagine that! I thought, "This is great! I can go back to church and feed my starving soul". So, I went....

I had been to other churches before, but never ever in my life had I felt the spirit like I felt it that day. I was completely floored. It was the best experience of my life because it was almost like Jesus Christ himself had come down from heaven and invited me in. FINALLY!

I could finally hear the Lord clearly speaking softly to me! He said, "Come back and worship me in the right way. Come and meet me at my table and finally fill your life and your soul with my love for you." The church had an alter call that day and I practically ran down the isle! I wanted to finally meet the God that I had read about in the bible. I wanted to feel the love he had for me. I prayed to Jesus begging him to take me away, so that I could be with him. I begged him to accept me and love me and forgive me for being so bitter for so long.

Oh how it has changed me! My dear Jesus didn't just give me back my life he gave me back my life abundantly. In the space of six or seven months I lived my life like I had never lived before. I was finally saved and Jesus was so thrilled to finally have me with him. I say that as if I am talking about a true living friend of mine, because that is what my Lord is. I feel like I can take on the world with him near me, and all he wanted from me was a willing acceptance of who he truly is.

He told me that I now have a real truth for the first time, I was finally coming out of the darkness and into the light for him. He wants me to remain in the light with him, just as he wants you to finally come out of the darkness.

He loves Mormons so much, he aches for them. He knows how wonderful they are, he created them. I've begged him to redeem that church and he has told me that he wants to so badly because he knows and loves each one of them. Oh how he wants to show his love to them, in the right way. He wants them to feel the true spirit, he wants them to feel a spirit that is far greater and more powerful than the one they already feel. The spirit in the Mormon Church reminds me of how you feel during the end of a sad movie. The spirit was meant to be felt in such a different way. He wants to share that with the Mormon people and show them that they don't have to overcomplicate salvation. The work is done! He did it for them on the cross and only through him, through his grace we are saved....he wants to cry with them, laugh with them, and live in their hearts forever and ever. Amen.

A Christmas Twist

As I did last week I'd like to share from Max Lucado's When God Whispers Your Name. This chapter was really a good story to read during the Christmas season. I hope you enjoy it...
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Gabriel must have scratched his head at this one. He wasn't one to question his God-given missions. Sending fire and dividing seas were all in an eternity's work for this angel. When God sent, Gabriel went.

And when word got out that God was to become man, Gabriel was enthused. He could envision the moment:

The Messiah in a blazing chariot.
The King descending on a fiery cloud.
An explosion of light from which the Messiah
would emerge.

That's what he expected. What he never expected, however, was what he got: a slip of paper with a Nazarene address. "God will become a baby," it read. "Tell the mother to name the child Jesus. And tell her not to be afraid."

Gabriel was never one to question, but this time he had to wonder.

God will become a baby? Gabriel had seen babies before. He had been platoon leader on the bulrush operation. He remembered what little Moses looked like.

That's okay for humans, he thought to himself. But God?

The heavens can't contain him; how could a body? Besides, have you seen what comes out of those babies? Hardly befitting for the Creator of the universe. Babies must be carried and fed, bounced and bathed. To imagine some mother burping God on her shoulder - why, that was beyond what even an angel could imagine.

And what of this name - what was it - Jesus? Such a common name. There's a Jesus in every cul-de-sac. Come on, even Gabriel has more punch to it than Jesus. Call the baby Eminence or Majesty or Heaven-sent. Anything but Jesus.

So Gabriel scratched his head. What happened to the good ol' days? The Sodom and Gomorrah stuff. Flooding the globe. Flaming swords. That's the action he liked.

But Gabriel had his orders. Take the message to Mary. Must be a special girl, he assumed as he traveled. But Gabriel was in for another shock. One peek told him Mary was no queen. The mother-to-be of God was not regal. She was a Jewish peasant who'd barely outgrown her acne and had a crush on a guy named Joe.

And speaking of Joe - what does this fellow know? Might as well be a weaver in Spain or a cobbler in Greece. He's a carpenter. Look at him over there, sawdust in his beard and nail apron around his waist. You're telling me God is going to have dinner every night with him? You're telling me the souce of wisdom in going to call this guy "Dad"? You're telling me a common laborer is going to be charged with giving food to God?

What if he gets laid off?

What if he gets cranky?

What if he decides to run off with a pretty young girl from down the street? Then where will we be?

It was all Gabriel could do to keep from turning back. "This is a peculiar idea you have, God" he must have muttered to himself.


Are God's guardians given to such musings?

Are we? Are we still stunned by God's coming? Still staggered by the event? Does Christmas still spawn the same speechless wonder it did two thousand years ago?

I've been asking that question lately - to myself. As I write, Christmas is only days away and something just happened that has me concerned that the pace of the holidays may be overshadowing the purpose of the holidays.

I saw a manger in a mall. Correct that. I barely saw a manger in a mall. I almost didn't see it. I was in a hurry. Guests coming. Santa dropping in. Sermons to be prepared. Services to be planned. Presents to be purchased.

The crush of things was so great that the creche of Christ was almost ignored. I nearly missed it. And had it not been for the child and his father, I would have.

But out of the corner of my eye, I saw them. The little boy, three, maybe four years old, in jeans and high-tops staring at the manger's infant. The father, in baseball hat and work clothes, looking over his son's shoulder, gesturing first at Joseph, then Mary, then the baby. He was telling the little fellow the story.

And oh, the twinkle in the boy's eyes. The wonder on his little face. He didn't speak. He just listened. And I didn't move. I just watched. What questions were filling the little boy's head? Could they have been the same as Gabriel's? What sparked the amazement on his face? Was it the magic?

And why is it that out of a hundred or so of God's children only two paused to consider his son? What is this December demon that steals our eyes and stills our tongues? Isn't this season to pause and pose Gabriel's questions?

The tragedy is not that we can't answer them, but that we are too busy to ask them.

Only heaven knows how long Gabriel fluttered unseen above Mary before he took a breath and broke the news. But he did. He told her the name. He told her the plan. He told her not to be afraid. And when he announced, "With God nothing is impossible!" he said it as much for himself as for her.

For even though he couldn't answer the questions, he knew who could, and that was enough. And even though we can't answer them all, taking time to ask a few would be a good start.

Your Sack of Stones

I haven't had time to check the news but at work I have had time to read. I've been reading When God Whispers Your Name by Max Lucado. There were two chapters in there that I wanted to be able to share with all of you. The first I will post tonight and the second one late next week.
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You have one. A sack. A burlap sack. Probably aren't aware of it, may not have been told about it. Could be you don't remember it. But it was given to you. A sack. An itchy, scratchy burlap sack.

You needed the sack so you could carry the stones. Rocks, boulders, pebbles. All sizes. All shapes. All unwanted.

You didn't request them. You didn't seek them. But you were given them.

Don't remember?

Some were rocks of rejection. You were given one the time you didn't pass the tryout. It wasn't for lack of effort. Heaven only knows how much you practiced. You thought you were good enough for the team. But the coach didn't. The instructor didn't. You thought you were good enough, but they said you weren't.

They and how many others?

You don't have to live long before you get a collection of stones. Make a poor grade. Make a bad choice. Make a mess. Get called a few names. Get mocked. Get abused.

And the stones don't stop with adolescence. I sent a letter this week to an unemployed man who's been rejected in more than fifty interviews.

And so the sack gets heavy. Heavy with stones. Stones of rejection. Stones we don't deserve.
Along with a few we do.

Look into the burlap sack and you see that not all the stones are from rejections. There is a second type of stone. The stone of regret.

Regret for the time you lost your temper.

Regret for the day you lost control.

Regret for the moment you lost your pride.

Regret for the years you lost your priorities.

And even regret for the hour you lost your innocence.

One stone after another, one guilty stone after another.

With time the sacks gets heavy. We get tired. How can you have dreams for the future when all your energy is required to shoulder the past?

No wonder some people look miserable. The sack slows the step. The sack chafes. Helps explain the irritation on so many faces, the sag in so many steps, the drag in so many shoulders, and most of all, the desperation in so many acts.

You're consumed with doing whatever it takes to get some rest.

So you take the sack to the office. You resolve to work so hard you'll forget about the sack. You arrive early and stay late. People are impressed. But when it's time to go home, there is the sack - waiting to be carried out.

You carry the stones into happy hour. With a name like that, it must bring relief. So you set the sack on the floor, sit on the stool, and drink a few. The music gets loud and your head gets light. But then it's time to go and you look down and there is the sack.

You drag it into therapy. You sit on the couch with the sack at your feet and spill all your stones on the floor and name them one by one. The therapist listens. She empathizes. Some helpful counsel is given. But when the time is up, you're obliged to gather the rocks and take them with you.

You get so desperate you try a weekend rendezvous. A little excitement. A risky embrace. A night of stolen passion. And for a moment the load is lighter. But then the weekend passes. Sunday's sun sets and awaiting you on Monday's doorstep is - you got it - your sack of regrets and rejections.

Some even take the sack to church. Perhaps religion will help, we reason. But instead of removing a few stones, some well-meaning but misguided preacher may add to the load. God's messengers sometimes give more hurt than help. And you might leave the church with a few new rocks in your sack.

The result? A person slugging his way through life, weighed down by the past. I don't know if you've noticed, but it's hard to be thoughtful when you're carrying a burlap sack. It's hard to be affirming when you are affirmation-starved. It's hard to be forgiving when you feel guilty.
Paul had an interesting observation about the way we treat people. He said it about marriage, but the principle applies in any relationship. "The man who loves his wife loves himself" (Eph 5:28). There is a correlation between the way you feel about yourself and the way you feel about others. If you are at peace with yourself - if you like yourself - you will get along with others.

The converse is also true. If you don't like yourself, if you are ashamed, embarrassed, or angry, other people are going to know it. The tragic part of the burlap-sack story is we tend to throw our stones at those we love.

Unless the cycle is interrupted.

Which takes us the question, "How does a person get relief?"

Which, in turn, takes us to one of the kindest verses in the Bible, "Come to me, all of you who are tired and have heavy loads, and I will give you rest. Accept my teachings and learn from me, because I am gentle and humble in spirit, and you will find rest for your lives. The teaching I ask you to accept is easy; the load I give you to carry is light" (Matt. 11:28-29).

You knew I was going to say that. I can see you holding this book and shaking your head. "I've tried that. I've read the Bible, I've sat on the pew - but I've never received relief."

If that is the case, could I ask a delicate but deliberate question? Could it be that you went to religion and didn't go to God? Could it be that you went to a church but never saw Christ?
"Come to me," the verse reads.

It's easy to go to the wrong place. I did yesterday. I was in Portland, Maine, catching a flight to Boston. Went to the desk, checked my bag, got my ticket, and went to the gate. I went past security, took my seat, and waited for the flight to be called. I waited and waited and waited --
Finally, I went up to the desk to ask the attendant and she looked at me and said, "You're at the wrong gate."

Now, what if I'd pouted and sighed, "Well, there must not be a flight to Boston. Looks like I'm stuck."

You would have said to me, "You're not stuck. You're just at the wrong gate. Go down to the right gate and try again."

It's not that you haven't tried - you've tried for years to deal with your past. Alcohol. Affairs. Workaholism. Religion.

Jesus says he is the solution for weariness of soul.

Go to him. Be honest with him. Admit you have soul secrets you've never dealt with. He already knows what they are. He's just waiting for you to ask him to help. He's just waiting for you to give him your sack.

Go ahead. You'll be glad you did. (Those near to you will be glad as well...it's hard to throw stones when you've left your sack at the cross.)

Alternatives to MySpace

I must say I found this article pretty cool...

Left Behind Games, an evangelical Christian software corporation spun off the best-selling book series, has launched a social-networking site that it promotes as a safe and profanity-free alternative to services like MySpace that have largely unregulated content.

I was curious about this so I went to the site they provided and registered. I had both good and bad opinions of the site.

The good news is that it IS porn free. I saw no advertisements showing a half naked chick on them. The look and feel are very similar to MySpace too so there is only a mild learning curve if you are used to MySpace. Also, what I'd say is probably good news, it isn't plastered with Christianese that would make non-believers steer clear. Its always best to encourage nonbelievers into our circles so that we can witness to them, hopefully, through our love and kindness.

The bad news is that though clean there is still people on there advertising their wares. I wasn't on the site two minutes when I already had a couple of users advertising horse saddles and the opportunity to work at home. This is also a Beta version at the moment too. So there are plenty of bugs. For instance they offer to email your friends for you to let them know about the site but yet, as far as I can tell, there isn't any place to actually DO that.

All that said, if they bring it up to par with MySpace I would more than recommend it to any Christian out there. Its a chance to have all the fun and communication that you do thru MySpace but without all the garbage that comes with it.

Link
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Maker of Christian games launches social-networking site

Forward to Genesis

I found the following in the preface to Genesis in my Amplified Bible. Its too good not to share!...

Genesis, a Greek word meaning "origin" or "beginning", was the title given to this book by the translators of the third century B.C. Greek Old Testament known as The Septuagint. The first word in the Hebrew text, Bereshith, means "in the beginning" and is used as the Hebrew name for this book.

Although this book begins with the creation of the universe, the focal point is the creation of man. As the human race multiplies, the account is narrowed to certain genealogical limits...

Certain scholars question the historicity of the events recorded in Genesis 1-11. Although they regard them as "mythical" or "supra-historical" stories, they assert that these stories have religious value. This position is difficult to maintain in view of Christ's authority and attitude to the Genesis record as is reflected in the following passages: Matthew 19:4-6; 24:37-39; Mark 10:4-9; Luke 11:49-51; 17:26-32; John 7:21-23; 8:44.

The book of Genesis, as the introductory book in the account of God's progressive self-revelation to the human race, is crucially important. It is quoted more than sixty times in the New Testament, where this revelation culminates in the person of Jesus Christ. In this way Genesis provides the historical account of the beginning of God's relationship with man foundational for and essential to a proper understanding of subsequent divine revelations.

American Tradition

My mother sent me this article. I'd like to know what you think. Read the article and comment on it...

Keith Ellison, D-Minn., the first Muslim elected to the United States Congress, has announced that he will not take his oath of office on the Bible, but on the bible of Islam, the Koran.

He should not be allowed to do so -- not because of any American hostility to the Koran, but because the act undermines American civilization.

A Palestinian woman holds the Koran during a Hamas rally against Israeli troops operation in northern Gaza strip November 3, 2006. Israeli troops shot and killed two Palestinian women acting as human shields between Israeli soldiers and Palestinian gunmen during a clash at a Gaza mosque on Friday, witnesses said, before the gunmen escaped. REUTERS/Mohammed Salem (GAZA)

First, it is an act of hubris that perfectly exemplifies multiculturalist activism -- my culture trumps America's culture. What Ellison and his Muslim and leftist supporters are saying is that it is of no consequence what America holds as its holiest book; all that matters is what any individual holds to be his holiest book.

Forgive me, but America should not give a hoot what Keith Ellison's favorite book is. Insofar as a member of Congress taking an oath to serve America and uphold its values is concerned, America is interested in only one book, the Bible. If you are incapable of taking an oath on that book, don't serve in Congress. In your personal life, we will fight for your right to prefer any other book. We will even fight for your right to publish cartoons mocking our Bible. But, Mr. Ellison, America, not you, decides on what book its public servants take their oath.

Devotees of multiculturalism and political correctness who do not see how damaging to the fabric of American civilization it is to allow Ellison to choose his own book need only imagine a racist elected to Congress. Would they allow him to choose Hitler's "Mein Kampf," the Nazis' bible, for his oath? And if not, why not? On what grounds will those defending Ellison's right to choose his favorite book deny that same right to a racist who is elected to public office?

This is only part of the article. What I'd like to say is I agree with the general point of the article. I don't want the swearing in of our political figures to become a farce. If we let whatever we hold most sacred to become our book of choice I could see someone who thinks he is funnier than he is wanting to swear in on a comic book or a book of political jokes.

Our country was founded on Christian principles whether or not all who signed our laws believed them or not. Let's keep the Bible as our book of choice and remember where we came from.

Link
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America, Not Keith Ellison, decides what book a congressman takes his oath on