Christianity: My Journey & Thoughts

Seasons of Life: Walking with Dusty Sandals

I probably rolled my eyes the first time I heard ‘seasons of life’ from a fellow Christian. It sounded chintzy to me, like something you’d find engraved on a plaque mounted next to a Thomas Kinkade print. Can you picture it: a painting of a too-perfect gazebo surrounded by a pristine English garden? Maybe it even has a little painting light mounted above it, to better sear the saccharine display into your mind. It makes me want to pick up a charcoal pencil and sketch in a kraken devouring the flowers, shooting laser beams at the sky in wild, blissful rage. The raw sweetness is sickening.

It can be maddening when you’re waiting for something in your life to happen–a change you want to occur. This can happen in seasons of rest or reflection, or during those times when Dusty Sandals* is preparing you for what comes next. It’s a “Wait here and trust me” or “Walk with me and trust me” kind of thing. I’m not an expert at this, but I think this is how it works.

I’m in such a season currently. A foundation in my life recently changed, somewhat dramatically and suddenly. Like a chess game, I am trying to figure out which piece to move next. I made a couple of foolish moves in the beginning chaos, but am stepping back to take a look at the bigger picture. Dusty Sandals is ever understanding and sympathetic–He gave me my queen back. Then He asked if He could sit down and play.

I said sure, but I would get unlimited handicaps. He agreed. There may have been a chuckle while I prepped the popcorn bowl and drinks.

Whenever we’re uncertain, those who follow Dusty Sandals can (see: need to) remember that He is always present and ultimately in control–even in the midst of evil (see: war) or otherwise very bad situations. When we suffer, He is suffering with us; when we rejoice, He rejoices and joins us at the taco bar for seconds. Sometimes during these seasons of waiting, we need to get out of His way and let Him work; other times we need to sit down with Him and break out the chessboard and talk it through together. But just be reassured–He’s there and He’s not leaving you. He promised you that long ago.

I hope everyone is well. To any readers in India, my thoughts and prayers are with you especially as your country continues to suffer so much with the pandemic. Please do your best to take care of yourselves and each other.

Until then, happy writing.

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*Dusty Sandals: I refer to Jesus sometimes in my blogs as “the guy in the dusty sandals” or “the guy with the dusty sandals”. I shortened it this time to Dusty Sandals. I don’t think He would mind.


Ponderings

Life Lessons from Mr. Magorium: Death & Change

There’s quite a few lines from the movie Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium that have stuck with me over the years. If you haven’t seen the film, I highly recommend it. The script doesn’t blanch at the realities of change and death. The characters frequently toss out clever lines and understand what it means to laugh and to struggle. It’s a simple plot, one that revolves around a magical toy store, but it’s powerful. I think I like the simple, magical stories the best.

One of the more poignant lines, one that is towards the end of the film, goes like this:

Molly: Are you dying?

Mr. Magorium: Light bulbs die, my sweet. I will depart.

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Christianity: My Journey & Thoughts, Ponderings

Disenchanted: American Christianity

Sometimes I feel as if America has “signed on” Jesus at the White House to become their spokesman and undersigner–their “yes” man. This Jesus is Caucasian, always Conservative Republican, is allowed to have an “acceptable” beard, and goes around in sandals and a billowing white tunic, shaking hands with politicians while flashing a Crest sponsored smile. He hands out little medals to those who oppose abortion and easily excuses marital affairs, vulgarity and any covered up sex or child trafficking. He gives flowers to women wearing Gucci and busily writing out checks to avoid taxes at tax time. He kisses white babies and applauds business owners for forming jobs and trickling down a meager sustenance to the undeserving, wretched poor.

And then, if he has enough time in his daily itinerary, he hops onto a book signing by any number of white evangelicals in the blessed world of Christian Marketing and Business. He sits proudly behind the desk and recites pitches dutifully, saying “Yep, buy this book for $29.95. Don’t bother talking with me too much or accepting pain and trials–I sure don’t have the time when there are Senate seats to be won! American Christianity is pain free, pleasure filled with blessings upon blessings–but only if you buy this book and decide you’re worth it. Say, have you seen the latest Hallmark movie? They’re all white–just like me. White, blue eyed and blonde haired, mostly…Reminds me of growing up in the Middle East…”

Is it a wonder I feel disenchanted? It’s enough to make anyone gag on their Chick-Fil-A Coke…

Continue reading “Disenchanted: American Christianity”