Wow.

The day has been full of up and downs for me. One of the girls, Vilma, didn’t show up today. I texted her to let her know she was missed. I’m going to try and connect with her this weekend. I’m hoping that she isn’t trying to avoid the group. I know there is so much we could learn from each other.

I’m planning a small party for Frank’s birthday. For some reason, it’s easier to do here. Everyone knows our house, and knows they are welcome to drop by and say hello. We have visitors from sun up to sun down here, and while I would have told you 30 days ago that I would hate that, I actually love it. I feel like part of a real community here. The birthday party is the perfect opportunity to make them feel even more welcome.

During one of our groups this morning, we started talking about Jesus giving us authority to cast out demons. I mentioned that I didn’t think that demons worked in the same way. As in, getting thrown out of a person into a group of pigs that then run off a cliff. I mean, have you seen that? I haven’t. I said that sometimes people think psychiatric disorders are demon posesssion, and that was a mistake. When you are near someone who is szhizophrenic, it is clear that it is a psychiatric issue rather than supernatural.

The group here is definitely more Pentacostal than I am, as in some of them have spoken in tongues and participated in sessions where supernatural healing has happened. I happen to be a Lutheran in hiding. I’m uncomfortable in worship where clapping occurs, and I find God in the quiestest of moments. I am introverted and introspective to a fault, and the whole speaking in tongues thing is just freaky as all get out. I’ve been around people who have done it, and it makes me supremely uncomfortable.

So anyway, my comment sparked this long discussion about demons. And to be honest I felt really uncomfortable. It’s like telling people I voted for Obama. Sometimes you find a welcome audience, but usually (in the Southern Baptist arena at least) you don’t.

There’s a little girl that our team went to pray over today. She has a hernia, and they were praying for healing. They invited me, and I declined. Again because it stretched my comfort field. Her family has scheduled the operation on the 29th. It costs $100, and they don’t have the money. That’s about a month’s salary for the average job. Before taxes, before food, before shelter.

I have the $100 in my bank account.

I spoke with Frank and we talked about my Mother Teresa complex. My first inclination is to give first, ask questions later, and at the end of the day maybe talk to God about it. I’m seeing the negative side of this as it cuts off all opportunity for God to work in miraculous ways.

I started talking about ending my life with plenty of money for retirement, while people starve to death all around me. That would be the definition of wasting my life. I would consider myself a failure if I had not given away everything that I possibly could.

At the end of the conversation, I knew I had to talk to one of our team members about it. So I did, honestly and truthfully. We’re going to pray for the next ten days, giving God the opportunity to heal and provide for this family.

My prayer:

God, I know you can do this. I read stories all the time about how you healed, and I believe in your son who was healed. I am waiting on you to provide miraculously for this girl. Know that I am willing to provide the money, if you need it.

I want to believe in God. I want to believe the Bible is true, and that we have a purpose. That God loves us and gave us a chance at redemption. I don’t want to believe that hell exists. I don’t want to believe in Revelation. I don’t want to believe that God would not send someone to hell without giving them a final glimpse of each choice.

How can I share the story of God to people when I struggle with it myself?

F and I had a talk a few days ago about the accuracy of the Bible.  For anyone outside of a Christian religion, this topic seems meaningless.  As in, of course it’s not completely accurate.  It’s an old text.  I read articles on the gospels and how they might be inaccurate, and it makes me doubt.  Those doubts are there already, but the articles enhance them.

F says I need to talk to someone who knows more about the history of the Bible manuscripts.  I’m not ok with simple answers.  I need someone who know what they are talking about and won’t give the “trust in God” speech.

It’s not that I think this is all false, I just need answers.

I hope for God to forgive us of our hate.
I hope for God to grant us the chance to help our neighbors.
I hope for God to grant us the chance to tell others what he has done for us.
I hope for God to grant us the chance to tell others what he has done for them.
I hope for God to grant us the chance to tell others how good he is.

I hope for forgiveness.
I hope for love.
I hope for faith.
I hope.

I have hope because I am filled with the one who created hope.

I refuse to vote for a candidate who does not believe that diplomacy is the most important weapon we have.
I refuse to vote for a candidate who does not believe that all Americans need equal access to health care.
I refuse to vote for a candidate who uses women as political pawns.
I refuse to vote for a candidate who has built a campaign based on hatred and lies.
I refuse to vote for a candidate who has publicly treated his wife with contempt.

I refuse to vote for a party that does not address the reasons why a woman would have an abortion.
I refuse to vote for a party that condemns a woman for having an abortion.
I refuse to vote for a party that does everything they can to keep the poor, poor and the rich, rich.
I refuse to vote for a party that consistently and willfully misuses the name of God while killing innocent civilians and ignoring the plight of people in need all over the world.

I refuse to vote with family members who refuse to acknowledge their racism.
I refuse to vote with family members who insist that Christians can only vote for Republicans.
I refuse to vote with family members who refuse to acknowledge that God has called each of us to live a life of poverty for the sake of our neighbors.
I refuse to vote with family members who have sent hate filled emails that are based on lies.

I refuse to keep silent.
I refuse to believe that I cannot produce change in the world.
I refuse to stop trying.
I refuse to believe that any candidate is the remedy this broken world is seeking.