Paghanga

Ngayon lang ulit ako magsusulat sa wikang Filipino. Nakakahiya, kasi parang pangkalye lang ang Tagalog na alam ko; mas bihasa pa ako sa wikang Ingles. Siguro hindi na ito kagulat-gulat, lalo na sa henerasyon ngayon kung saan ang Ingles ay lalong binibigyan ng importansya dahil nga daw sa globalisasyon. Ang gusto ko lang naman sabihin (bago pa ako lumihis sa nais ko talagang ibahagi sa inyo) ay hindi ko na maaaring ipagpalipas pa ang pagsasanay sa panunulat sa Tagalog. Kasi naman eh. May 'Kasyon diyes ako. Hindi ...cation, kundi ...kasyon. Suma tutal, kinakailangan ko nang hasain ang sarili ko sa pagtaTagalog dahil kung hindi, napakalaki ng posibilidad na bumagsak ako sa kursong nabanggit ko kanina lang.

Pero hindi talaga 'yan ang gusto kong ibahagi! Ang gusto kong ibahagi ay tungkol sa...

Paghanga. Sa Ingles, "crush". (Tandaan, paghanga / crush lang ito, at hindi pa pag-ibig ha.)

Hindi ako madaling mapahanga. Madalas, humahanga ako kapag ang isang lalaki ay may angking talento, talino, o namumukod-tanging katangian. Kaya nga hangang hanga ako sa mga kapatid nating napakahusay tumugtog ng gitara, drums, keyboard, violin, etc. O kaya 'yung may mga angking talento sa pag-awit. O kaya 'yung mga napakatalino. O 'yung may hitsura. At aaminin ko, madalas ay pinakamadali akong napapahanga sa pisikal na aspeto pa lang.

Kaya nga matagal bago ako magkaroon ulit ng crush. Kasi, to quote my friend, "...ang taas taas ng standards..." ko. Eh kasi naman, 'yun ang turo sa'kin. Palagay ko, tama naman 'yun. Siyempre dumating ako sa puntong parang hindi na yata matutupad ang aking mga pamantayan, na parang imposible yatang makahanap ng hahangaan na Kristyano din.

(Sasabihin ko 'to sa Ingles dahil hindi ko alam kung pa'no sabihin sa Tagalog:)
Until now. Dahil humahanga ulit ako! (yay!) Eh sa gwapo siya eh. Matalino pa (sabi nila). Magaling rin tumugtog ng gitara. Mabait. At hindi lang basta-bastang Kristyano.

Pero isang linggo na ang nakalilipas mula nang una ko siyang masilayan. At kahit gaano pa ako kahibang sa kanya, hindi ko naman maaaring isantabi ang mga iba ko pang responsibilidad. Hinding hindi ko rin maaaring itaya ang aking mga paniniwala kahit na isa akong romantikong tao na nangangarap na suyuin balang araw ng lalaking mamahalin ko habambuhay.

Nakakatuwa lang, simula nang makilala ko siya, sari-saring mga tao (mga kaibigan at ka-church) ang biglang naghandog ng mga payo tungkol sa pag-ibig. May isa pa ngang nagkwento kung paano niya ipinanalangin ang lalaking ngayon ay asawa na niya. Ang nakakatuwa, hindi lahat sila ay alam ang pinagdadaanan ko ngayon. :)

Bakit ko nga isinulat ito? Isinulat ko ito dahil gusto kong ihayag ang aking mga nararamdaman kahit sa huling pagkakataon (sana). Kasabay ng pagbitiw ko ng mga salitang ito ay ang pagbitiw ko ng kahit anong pantasya na balang araw ay magiging kami. Bakit hindi, ang ilan sa inyo ay magtatanong. Posible namang magkatuluyan kami, kung iyon ang ninanais ni Lord, pero kung hindi naman, eh ako lang din naman ang masasaktan 'di ba? Kapag kasi ako nagka-crush, malalim. Kaya nga minsan napagkakamalan ko siyang pag-ibig, kahit hindi naman. Malalim ang aking mga emosyon at lumilipad na sa hinaharap ang aking utak. Oo, baliw. Eh ganun ako magka-crush eh. Hindi lang ako nagkaka-crush for the sake of kilig. Iniisip ko na ang kinabukasan... na kasama siya.

Lilinawin ko lang, hinahangaan ko pa rin siya, at patuloy na hahangaan hanggang -- siguro, hanggang mapuno ng ibang bagay ang utak ko at malimutan siya. Hinangaan ko pa rin siya, pero simula ngayon, ang lahat ay isasangguni ko na kay Lord. Lahat lahat lahat.

Ang ilan sa inyo ay natutuwa matapos itong basahin, ang ilan ay naiinis, ang iba siguro ay nag-aalala. Huwag po kayong mag-alala. Muli, isang paghanga lang po ito. Babae pa rin naman ako, na may 50% more romantic element sa kanyang pagkatao.

Bakit ko kayo ni-tag? Pananagutan. Sa Ingles, accountability. I want accountability. :) Ikakalulugod ko kapag ako ay inyong tinanong sa aspetong ito, kahit na minsan iisipin kong sana ay hindi ninyo ako pakialaman.

Mahal ko kayo. :)

PMA LTI Spice (7 Reasons Why I Loved Today and Yesterday)

If you check my recent FB statuses, you might correctly guess that I am, at this point, at the height of emotion -- joy and a very pleasurable fulfillment. I just arrived home earlier this afternoon from a Leadership Training Institute (LTI) hosted by PMACF, attended by PMA cadets and several civilians. This is despite the fact that I joined them only on the last two days of the LTI.

(Before I go any further... Yes, Orly. I couldn't help myself. See, I blogged about it right today. haha!)

So why this blog / note? Well, I just feel the need to justify myself because of this half-correct notion of why I immensely enjoyed yesterday and today at the LTI. Haha. Because contrary to Jude's, Josh's and everyone's belief, I didn't just enjoy this just because of THAT reason (and I would REALLY appreciate it if we all don't name names :D).

Allow me to share the 5 Reasons Why I Loved Today and Yesterday:
1) I was invited to teach 3 consecutive messages in the Basic Level. It probably won't hurt to tell now, but preparing for those messages was a struggle. I've only taught one message before, and I just felt that these messages - which were, coincidentally, about the Holy Spirit - were way too big for me. I had half a mind to back out of the teaching assignment. Of course, we do not depend on feelings. I'm glad I didn't. My teaching sessions turned out well and my students (hurray Basic!) were sooo responsive and attentive. In retrospect, I don't think I've had this much fun in all my fairly limited NLT Teaching experiences.

2) Because this LTI was PMACF-sponsored, most of the delegates were cadets. Although I really appreciated these cadets (more of this letter), I just loved the fact that Crus from SLU and La Union were here too! Especially the La Union peeps. I am really encouraged by their dedication and desire to be trained. Hurray for you guys.

3) I had planned to stay only until 1730 (ahem! time check), but ended up helping out with the Commitment Night.  Tediously wrapping up those ropes around the trees up the hill to form a rope trail and tripping on twigs and roots on the process wasn't half as fun as the actual Commitment program. You may have guessed already that delegates were to climb up the hill blindfolded, with only the rope to guide them to the top. I was given the all-important job of leading  blindfolded delegates from the end of the rope to their seats surrounding the bonfire, which was prepared on top of the hill.

4) I think we stayed up until 12 midnight last night just talking and laughing with the staff and cadets. Which was a wonder in itself for me, because I honestly initially thought that these cadets always, always dripped of sobriety, seriousness, stiffness and solemnity. Pretty much of a hasty generalization, yes. But I stood corrected last night. Once we finally got them talking, there was almost no end to it, and we learned more of them. For instance, Angie is the first cadet I know who has just about the same personality as ate Coco (yes, the ate Coco). And there were these really cool, great guys who humored us by teaching us about some PMA jargon and culture (did you know cadets were supposed to speak to any of their superiors in English?)

5) This morning, we went out for Witnessing Blitz at a cemetery near the LTI venue. Cadets were paired with civis. Each person was handed five 4SLs (that's 10 per pair) and were given one and a half hour to share them all. And the results were just amazing. The Basic people really rocked it out! -- most of them were able to share all five of them and more. What really amazed me was that the really eager beavers were the cadets. I already had my mind set to the other way around. It was just immensely refreshing to see them so fired up to share the gospel. Some of them even joked about using their authority to share to their underclassmen (you know how upperclassmen are sooo respected).

6) I loved working with all the LTI staff. They were all just great. You really are talented, smart, and wickedly OH SOME people. :D

7) Lastly, I loved today and yesterday because well, this was my first time attending / participating / watching a PMA LTI. And you know how first times are almost always magical.

So you see, my friends, it's not just about THAT. haha. As ate Crista put it, it was but "...a little spice..." I enjoyed everything.

I have absolutely no regrets spending my yesterday and today like this.

Oh, there is one thing I do regret. I regret not coming earlier because I WASN'T ABLE TO WATCH AND HEAR JUDE RAP.

The Final Blow (My LMT Testimony)

It's been three days after the Leaders' Mobilization Training (LMT) and as is the custom, I've been meaning to write a blog detailing my highlights. Yet what and how do I write when everything I have and am still experiencing and feeling are beyond words?

And so when my dear, beautiful discipler asked me for a one-paragraph testimony (for her newsletter.. I'm pretty sure your disciplers would be asking you for something like this too) about the LMT, I thought and thought and thought and scrunched up my eyebrows and came up with this:

"I’ve been thinking of what to do after graduation since the start of this school year. It was a struggle for me trying to decide which pathway to pursue. Thankfully, through circumstances and people I met, God slowly changed my heart and helped me arrive at a decision. He had worked and hammered and chiseled at my heart throughout the semester. The LMT / MIMIC was the final blow – it was there that I finally knew for sure in my heart, soul and mind that my decision to be a Volunteer missionary with Campus Crusade for Christ after graduation is my calling. I am eternally grateful for the LMT; everything about it spoke to me in a special way, from the Devotions, Sessions and Seminars, and the simple talks and fellowship. The LMT was unlike any other retreat or camp I've ever been to; I was especially moved by our speaker, ate Germaine Santos' life testimony and fervency to serve God. I was thoroughly challenged to take a stand for my generation and help fulfill the Great Commission."

God is really, really great, good and amazing.

Flashes

  [Dedicated to the UPB CCC Core 2010]


As most of you may know, I attended a Leadership Mobilization Training. The venue was in Bolinao, Pangasinan, and we had to leave Baguio at around 4:40am. Take note, Typhoon Juan had only barely left the Northern Philippine region, and so during the entire bus ride we experienced drizzles to lashing rain. But before the rain lashes, there were the thunder and lightning.

We were driving with the solid mountain wall on our left side of the road. On our right side of the road is the edge of the cliff -- a sheer, long drop. Without any light, the right side of the road was a big black nothing. But then came the rumbling roar of the thunder -- and then the glorious crack and flash of lightning. And for a split second, a portion of the cliff and mountain side was illuminated. It was a magnificent sight -- every crevice, tree, and rock exposed. And then it was dark again.

For an hour, the lightning flashes came and went, and I excitedly awaited each flash.

I believe that a person, a human being, is a complex creation, full of mystery, and getting to know a person - really getting to know them completely - is a task that requires much patience and, I believe, divine intervention. And over the years I have come to the definite conclusion that truly learning about a person is next to impossible. Only the Creator can truly know each of His creation.

And so when it comes to trying to learn about a person, we are left groping in the dark with only our imaginations and ideas to satisfy ourselves with. But thank the Maker, we are given intermittent flashes of who each person really is. Short flashes they are, but very revealing. You would have had to be paying attention, because if you hadn't, you would have missed your chance. And there is no knowing when the next flash will come.

Last Tuesday, at our Core meeting in Figaro, I felt that God had given me illuminating flashes of each Core member's life. I almost missed them, these glorious flashes. Thankfully, I was nudged to keeping my eyes open to these flashes which gave me glimpses of who each of us really is.

I marveled at everything you shared. I rejoiced at your victories and triumphs. I was in awe of your many spiritual and wise insights. And my heart ached for your struggles.

Indeed, they were but glimpses, but glorious glimpses they were.

I shall keep my eyes open for more of these flashes. In case it still isn't obvious, let me tell you -- I love you guys. I really, really do.

"By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love on another." John 13:35

Storm + No electricity + Evenings = Prayerfulness

First, I thank God that typhoon Juan has passed our area. Juan has indeed left, but not without leaving destruction on many people's livelihoods and jeopardizing a LOT of plans. Here I am still reeling from the news my disciples had given me about not being permitted by their parents to attend the Leaders' Mobilization Training (LMT) because of the bad weather. Sigh. I wanna cry. Seriously. I need a shoulder, anyone?


How such situations like these where I am powerless leave me sooo frustrated... and restless!

Like yesterday, electricity was out, prompting an all-afternoon Dutch Blitz Competition and Championship - participated in by all Lawagan siblings. Of course I won three out of the four consecutive rounds (scored - raise to 100 points) we had. Oh, what fun.

And because there was nothing else to do after dinner, I went to bed at 6:30pm. SIX THIRTY! A record, if I might say so. Electricity -- or the absence of it, does wonders. Add to that complete darkness, and you get something else: Prayerfulness (if such a word exists).

After turning in at six thirty, I was suddenly jolted awake sometime in the middle of the night. I realized, in my half-asleep state, that an unnatural light was shining through my windows. That could only mean one thing. I looked out to confirm it -- yes! Streetlamps were on! Electricity's back! I quickly turned on the lights and walked out my room, turning on every switch on the way down to the comfort room. And so I got back in bed, with the lights all switched off again, reveling at the fact that God answered my prayer (been praying on and off the whole day that the power would return), the streetlamp outside suddenly flickered, and went dead. Hmm. (I honestly think God turned the lights on just so I could conveniently relieve myself in the toilet. lol)


I tried to sleep, but alas! It would not! And just as every Christian does when darkness reigns supreme - literally and figuratively - I prayed.

I prayed for the Little Kibungan villagers who were evacuated to the Puguis area, in an attempt to avoid last year's tragedy.

I prayed especially for Reyjean and Lynx, and all the other delegates who were in danger of not being permitted to attend the LMT.

I prayed that the weather would clear tomorrow (which is today).


I prayed we would arrive safely at Bolinao.

I prayed for a whole lot of things I do not remember now.

I think I spent at least two hours alternately trying to sleep, sitting up and looking out the window, and praying. And when I thought I had finally exhausted all prayer points, I did what anybody with a touch screen MyPhone would do: I played Magic Sushi. All. Night. Long.


Funny, when I met up with staffs this afternoon, they told me they had done the same thing all afternoon and all night long. Praying, that is. Not playing Magic Sushi.

Yesterday, our breakfast hatched.

Yesterday, our breakfast hatched. Literally.

One of the eggs we were supposed to have for breakfast for the next few days hatched. And no, it's not like it wasn't touched or anything already. I mean, how would you bring an egg from its nest to the egg rack without touching it and shaking it up, right? (I read somewhere that eggs have to be left alone if you want them turned into fully fledged chicks)

But there it was, a fledgling of a chick poking its way out of the shell, hanging on for dear life. No, I didn't see it with my own eyes. My sisters did, and now I am beginning to regret that I didn't spare a minute of my oh-so-precious time to witness this miracle.

We were all upstairs, doing our thing, and my mom kept whining about this loud chirping sound she had been hearing for ten minutes or so. She thought that one of our chicks (my dad raises native chickens) had somehow stolen into our house. And like the good, nice daughters that we were, we told her that it was impossible.

And then Bency (sister next to me) finally took it upon her to find the source of the chirping sound that even I had begun to find irritating and disturbing. And then there she saw it -- a chick beating its beak and tiny little feathery wings against the shell, which was in the egg rack, which was placed on top of our refrigerator. (Shame I didn't get a picture of it.)

And now for the moral of this anecdote (which I just really feel this anecdote should contain): if that doesn't display hope, resistance and resilience, I don't know what does. Really, that egg was destined for the frying pan and my stomach for the next day. And then it goes defying death and the odds. How amazing is that? I mean, seriously?! (We've long concluded that the heat from the refrigerator top was what incubated the egg.)

Admittedly, I didn't initially react that way. My first thought when I found that out yesterday was -- "That is plain creepy. Imagine your breakfast suddenly coming alive?"

In retrospect, though, I've come to think of it as cute, amazing, and even containing a bit of majesty and mystery. Really amazing.

Now, if the meat destined to be my lunch moves in the freezer, I would really be creeped out.

Future Talk

She sat there, finishing her meal, while I stirred my hot chocolate. The silence was prevailing... and then suddenly, I thought, why not ask now? So I raised my mug, partly obscuring her view of my face.


"So, should I take the LAE*?" I asked her for the nth time this semester.


"When is it?"


"November 12 is the deadline of submission of forms. Should I take it?"


"Why, sure. Yes."


"But I don't want to. I want to take up another degree. But not law." It's not that I didn't believe I could handle it. I know I could.


"You don't want to be a lawyer? What do you want to take up?" Taking up law is fine, but... I doubt if I would have as much fun as taking up --


"Film. I want to take up Film." There. I said it.


"Film? Why do you want that?"


"Well, I want to be a filmmaker. But not now. I'll take it up after a year. First, I'll be volunteering. And then I'll go to film school."


She was finishing the last of her meal. I looked at her, finding a response. But she just stood up and brought her plate to the kitchen. I restrained myself from asking "Is that okay? Are my plans okay with you?"


I remained seated and sipped my chocolate. I figured she still must be processing this. I smiled to myself, knowing I have a lot to process myself.

SIGH.

When your discipler is broken...

Dedicated to Ate Flor. Yes, you. :D Love you!

Guys aren't the only ones with the macho attitude, the I-have-to-be-strong, nobody-should-ever-see-a-weak-part-in-me mentality.

Girls have that too. I, for one, have such an attitude. I think it stemmed up from realizing that crying never really made things easier. As an infant and a toddler, I bawled to get something - anything - I wanted. I think I began to realize that tears had lost its magic for me when I was about seven or eight. All the other times beyond that age, I was humiliated whenever I cried, and-I cried whenever I was humiliated.

You get the point: I saw crying as a weakness. (Sometimes, I still do.)

This is one part of my life which God is still refining. I rarely cry in front of other people, not even my family. Not my friends. Definitely not my disciples. Often do people expect other people to behave the way they do; I expected the same behavior from relatively all others - from my family, from my disicples. I expected the same from my discipler.

So when my dear, dear discipler wept to us yesterday afternoon... well, I was sort of stunned. Not that I hadn't been expecting it. I had heard some about the difficulties she had been and still is going through right now, and she has already shared how God was teaching her as well to disclose to others. Baka daw kasi bumaba ang tingin sa kanya.

But no, at that moment, when she was sharing to us, fighting to smile through her tears, sharing to us her hopes and fears, I couldn't help thinking: I have yet to see her more beautiful than she is now. I have yet to see God greater in her life than at this moment. How lovely, lovely she is.

I have always wondered why the statement "Jesus wept" was given a verse on its own in the Bible. It seemed too trivial, too small a thing to be bothered to be even recorded. Now I believe it must have been written there to show Jesus' connection and ability to relate to other humans. It was to show that God, after all, does understand his creations above anyone else. It was to show that He was something other than a legalistic, cruel, stoic Being who did nothing but execute punishments; Someone more than a vending maching humans pester to grant them their wishes and desires.

Similary, I believe there is a bond created between the mentor who shares not just the joyous, but the painful as well, to his / her disciples. It implies a beautiful trust, an offering of a part of this older person's life.

What do you when the person you look up to is in a broken state? You look at his / her reaction. You look at how he / she handles it. The person is, after all, your mentor. It might seem or sound heartless, but really, once you have accepted your position as a learner from this person, you inevitably, unconsciously try to learn from this person's every move, every word, every attitude - even at the person's expense. How privileged the learner is who is able to learn wise things from a wise mentor who reacts wisely in every circumstance! Just as the the twelve disciples and early Christians learned much from The Great Discipler's brokenness, so do we - must we - learn from our mentors and leaders in their brokenness.

Now I see how privileged I am.

And no, hindi bumaba ang tingin ko sa kanya. If anything, my respect for her has deepend two-fold.

Why I like difficult.

I expected challenges when I first enrolled in the required Communication 199 (Thesis Proposal) last year, but the challenges I, together with all my other classmates, faced throughout the course were beyond what our imagination could fathom at the time.

Our Professor, who I choose to believe is driven by excellence and a desire for it, was a very intelligent person. She didn't hide the fact that Research was her favorite course back in her college days, and we were just amazed with her stories of her "nerdity".

My classmates and I quickly noticed the difference between our class and the other classes taught by another professor. For one, we had a difficult time choosing our topics, because The Prof unabashedly eliminated those she deemed insignificant of study. I know a trio who submitted three sets of topics - all rejected. At the end of the course, our grades simply magnified the difference between our class and the other. The other class' grades ranged from 85 (roughly 2.0, if my calculations are correct) and above. I and my partner got the highest - 2.25. And a lot of my classmates failed.

But even when we were grovelling to meet The Prof's demands, spending sleepless nights revising and revising again to meet her standards, and even when at the end, my final grade for the course was lower than what I would have preferred, I still say that I do not regret being under her. In fact, yes, let me say it -- I loved it.

Early on, I told my thesis partner Charlie that we would have to do anything and everything to meet The Standards, even if it hurt us. This principle applied even at the initial part of the course when we first had to choose our topics. I wanted to do something on Culture and Communication and already had my eyes on a specific village in Ifugao. That meant having to spend a huge amount of energy and resources. But I insisted, because I believed we had a better chance of bagging the Best Thesis prize with such a study.

And so every time we were faced with the choice of doing something difficult or doing something easy, Charlie would just look at me, understanding, and say, "Oo, alam ko, gusto mong pinahihirapan ang sarili mo."

For the record, I am no masochist.

But during that time, while we were undergoing the course and it became plain how much harder we were having it compared to the other classes, even while my classmates cursed The Prof for all such hardships and themselves for taking her class, I held on. I think I believed that we were much better off and were under better tutelage than the other class, and hence, I equated all these difficulties with better quality - of education and of learning.

And so when I held the returned and checked final output bearing the red mark of 2.0 it was pure bliss. Bliss at having conquered The Prof's hurdles. And an unquenchable feeling of pride at being the owner of such a mark.

Again, I am not a masochist, but I like difficult, because from personal observation, difficult does often result to best. One example is our respective college educations. Some people believe they are better (indeed, others have proven to be better) than others because their college educations were more difficult than others.

Think of the choir members who receive the Conductor's stinging criticisms and commands openly and willingly, knowing that following such an expert would make them better performers.

Or Manny Pacquiao, who endured hellish trainings under his Coach for the reward of victory and titles and trophies and wealth enough to make anyone drool.

Think of a doctor, or a nurse. Would you trust your life to the hands of someone you know has not had any proper training, someone who achieved his diploma from one of the many diploma-factories in the country masquerading as "nurse colleges"? And the reward of the doctor's or the nurse's difficult training could be a license to practice.


Think of the soldier. The soldier cannot possibly be effective in battle without having passed through rigorous and arduous training. One reward the soldier is glad to receive could simply be that of keeping his own life.


Think of our faith. How many times in the Bible were we Christians called to endure, to stand fast, to keep the faith? All these point the simple stark fact that things are to be difficult, hard, weary. And while our experiences may differ greatly, I think we can agree on the fact that at one point in our lives, we feel like going through the Shadow of Death.

The results, however, of such difficulties are promising and indeed are to be looked forward to - stronger faith, more maturity, a deeper relationship with and understanding of God, fruitful and abundant life... the list goes on.

And that is why I like difficult.


In retrospect, another reward of going through The Prof is having less difficulty now in Comm 200 (Thesis Proper) than those who were in the other class. Our formats and content, it turned out, are those appropriate for the Thesis Proper.

I do not want to be an additional reason for anyone to mock my Christ.

First, let me say this. The Internet is AMAZING. Of course, even with all those effects, that still is an understatement (Come on Sarah, we're living in the Digital Age! Of course we know that.)

But why do I start this post with such a statement? Well, simply because I stumbled on the amazing first six essays from Anne Jackson's  "Permission to Speak Freely" book on the internet. The book is just free form the press and I would never have had the chance to read such essays were it not for The Net. How empowering. Also, I was able to find some really though-provoking sites and organizations I never even knew existed in the internet... such as xxxchurch.com (more in this later, promise). Side note: Sometimes, I wonder if my extensive browsing, even in the "Safe Website Arena" (safe AND wholesome, mind you) wouldn't get me in trouble.

Anne Jackson's second essay was up on Jon Acuff's SCL site yesterday (http://stuffchristianslike.net/2010/08/3601/), and from there, I tracked all seven essays. The essays were actually Jackson's narratives about her life as PK and her families' very painful experiences in various churches.

Here is an excerpt (you really should check that link up there):

"When I was sixteen, my family was at the last church my dad would ever pastor. It was in the booming town of Abilene, Texas. We had lived there around three—maybe four—years, and the inevitable mess of real life began to take its toll. People began to show who they really were, complaining about this or demanding that, and justifying their actions with “for the Bible tells me so,” or “My daddy laid the foundation of this church,” the latter statement carrying more weight than the former.

My dad, who was the senior pastor at this church, was passionate about caring for people who are far from faith. Because he believed everyone in the church should participate in helping others, he taught classes coaching people on why we should be concerned for our community and how to love people when they are going through a difficult time.

However, most people at this particular church had been members for life. Nobody had ever asked them to step out of their pews before. To them, you went to church three times a week, and that was how you found Jesus and built your mansion up in heaven. My dad was the one getting paid to care for people. Why in the world would he ask them to do the same without getting paid for it?

His challenging the status quo did not sit well with some of the congregation. After a few months of tension and secret meetings, my dad was asked to resign his position at one of the church’s monthly business meetings.
And they didn’t ask kindly either. An avalanche of insults and lies tumbled down on my family and on another pastor in the church who supported my dad."


Those essays to me were amazingly horrifying. AMAZINGLY HORRIFYING. And again, for emphasis, let me say that that is a mere understatement. My heart ached for her, even as my mind reeled in unbelief. Could there really be such "Christians"?


Then I stumbled on xxxChurch.com, which initally really FREAKED me out (be honest, I know you are too!). I was like, is this some pseudo-Christian cult? But then I surmised, from the way it was being endorsed by other Christian websites, then it really must be Christian. Upon further investigation, I found out that xxxChurch is a Christian organization with the queer ministry for folks with problems with pornography, and other sins of a sexual nature.

Even more shocking to me than discovering that such an organization exists is the fact that one of their staff took his own life. Apparently the reason why he did it was because he could no longer endure the guilt and frustration he had over the "sexual" sins he committed. Many people are apt to judge, for one, his salvation, but I do not wish to. I do not wish to cast stones. No.

Reading and learning all these things and discovering these sites opened my eyes to the reality of sin IN the church; that Chrstians are struggling just as much,or probably even more, than those who are not.

But didn't Christ have victory over all sin already?

Moreover, all these taught me that while sin and Satan are far less powerful than God, they should never be downplayed, especially by the Christian who is ever the Enemy's target.

And I was warned to live carefully, always obeying intentionally, and not providing an opening for the Enemy. If anything, my resolve to live right in the eyes of God was deepened.

I do not want to reach the point of such despair and guilt and shame that the only alternative would be to take my own life.

I do not want to cause anyone to stumble.

I do not want to be an additional reason for anyone to mock my Christ.