The truly ridiculous...

This particular item is one of the more ridiculous examples of "Jesus Junk" that I've ever encountered. So entirely stupid that it made me laugh a little at the same time I was cringing in disbelief.

Those who hope in his steadfast love....

Mmm... I don't quite know where to start this morning. The last two days have been a bit crazy. In the interests of updating, let me do a quick recap.

Monday. Monday was a good day in a lot of ways. I spent hours and hours doing errands by myself, at a leisurely pace, and loved it. I love doing them with people, but the time spent alone, not in a hurry, but enjoying myself, thinking and relaxing as I shopped for groceries, at Ikea, returned videos, went to the library and so on were so refreshing.

I did, in fact, have a party of sorts on Monday night. A nice, small, party - four or five people is my kind of group. In the interests of deniability, I may or may not have done the following things at said party:

• Put on a wedding dress and veil. Incidentally, the dress didn't quite close in the back, so I had to wear a tank top underneath.
• Agreed to leave my house while wearing said wedding dress and veil, accompanied by guy dressed in short shorts from the eighties (think, tucking the boxers UP into them they were so short) a tank top, and carrying a cigar and coke can, another guy dressed as a "terrorist" - complete with a turban and man skirt, and a girl dressed as ABBA.
• Gone trick-or-treating with said costumes in a rather ritzy neighborhood.
• Been informed by an older lady in that neighborhood who noticed my costume that I'd better be careful about who I marry. That I shouldn't rush into anything. (I think we scared her a little!)
• Gone to the largest mall in the city in said costumes.
• Agreed to enter a high-class jewelery store, still wearing a wedding dress and veil, on the arm of the guy in short shorts, while he insisted, "I need a ring, quick."
• Given the jewellery store staff candy for playing along so nicely with our scheme.
• Thanked the lady on the jewellery store staff for trying to talk my "fiancee" into spending at least $150 on a ring, instead of the $50 he kept insisting on.
• Commented several times that my options as bride were limited - after all, the boys with me were either wearing short shorts or a skirt!

Like I said, I may or may not have done any of these things.

I drove a friend home from the party and had a long conversation that left me with many thoughts. I prayed the whole way home, something I haven't done in a very long time.

I woke up yesterday morning frustrated from some things the previous day. I rode the bus to school, sat down in my first class and pulled out my journal and started to write. I kept hearing the phrase "kicking against the goads" in my mind, and seeing this picture of a child's feet, looking like they've been sliced up by razor blades - not particularly bloody, maybe more scarred, but just destroyed. I wrote the following:

"The word for the day is 'frustration.' The old idea of 'kicking against the goads' comes to mind. It seems that the more we thrash and fight and look for something more, the more I find myself in the same place, only with increased woundedness.

It seems as if every conversation I have leads to an expression by my friends of their own frustration. I feel as if we are in this circle of heaviness. We spend hours and hours talking about our frustrations, and we never do anything about it."

I spent the whole day thinking about this, knowing inside me that I needed to share this with at least one of my friends, and terrified at the same time. I came home from school and googled the origin of the phrase "kicking at the goads". This is what I came up with: "The goads were rods that had points on the end of them which would be tied along side of mules. They would jam this point into the mule to make him move. The more the mule kicked against it, the more it stuck to him."

"The more the mule kicked against it, the more it stuck to him." As I read that, I knew why God popped the "kicking against the goads" phrase into my head. That's what we're doing, God. We're sitting here, and fighting for our lives, and kicking and screaming to be free from these things, to persevere, to see you, and the more we fight, the more bogged down we seem to be.

So, off I went to house church. And we sat, and listened, and prayed and talked. And it was good, but I knew I needed something more. I had told a friend earlier in the evening that I needed to talk with him - he's the friend I call on when I'm experiencing stuff (like hearing random obscure phrases and seeing bloody feet!) that I don't quite understand, but I think might be spiritual. As he was walking out the door, he remembered that I wanted to chat, and said he had five minutes.

We ended up talking for probably three hours. We walked around our pastor's neighborhood in the falling snow. We walked out into the field nearby that overlooked the ravine. We sat in his car when we were too cold and wet and tired to keep walking. And it was so good.

God showed up. I don't understand how, or why, or what happened, but it was good. I'm thankful for my friend who gave me the courage to come before God in a way that I haven't for a long time. Who invited me so gently that I couldn't say no. Who challenged me to say the things I thought I'd said. Who told me I needed to step up and ask God for some things. Who understood my frustration because he's been there too, and kept us both from perpetuating the cycle of only talking, by helping us both to pray. Who celebrated with me as a quietness closed in with my prayers, as my spirit calmed a little. I'm thankful for a good who will intervene.

We talked about knowing the presence of God, about the story where Jesus felt the power leave him and the woman was healed. We talked about fear and frustration and coming before God boldly asking for healing. And God was there.

I got the following daily text in my email this morning from the Moravians. I had to laugh. We had talked last night about how fascinated I am with some Moravian theology among other things. I get the "daily texts" every day, but the one this morning was particularly applicable. It read:

The Lord takes pleasure in those who fear him, in those who hope in his steadfast love. Psalm 147:11

But Jesus said, "Someone touched me; for I noticed that power had gone out from me." When the woman saw that she could not remain hidden, she came trembling; and falling down before him, she declared in the presence of all the people why she had touched him, and how she had been immediately healed. Luke 8:46,47

Steadfast Savior, give us the courage and boldness of our sister in faith so that we may come close to you, and claim the healing you long for us each to have. Amen.