"i believe the whole Bible: from the table of contents all the way to the maps!"

still wondering about predestination.
for the past 3 years or so.

Paul asks some interesting questions in the book of Romans.
some questions that i'm pretty sure i have asked as well.

"do you presume on the riches of His kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God's kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?" (2:4)

"if our unrighteousness serves to show the righteousness of God, what shall we say? that God is unrighteous to inflict wrath on us?" (3:5)

"if through my lie God's truth abounds to his glory, why am i still being condemned as a sinner?" (3:7)

"what if some were unfaithful? does their faithlessness nullify the faithfulness of God?" (3:3)

good questions, Paul.
i think that Paul was completely inspired when he wrote this letter. the Holy Spirit somehow chose to use him to write several amazing works...and i'm so grateful for them.

sometimes people say that they like the gospels more than the epistles, because the gospels are the words of Jesus.

to that i respond: the epistles are the words of Jesus as well.

if we believe that the Scriptures are given by inspiration of God, then we must believe that Paul's words, John's words, etc. have as much authority as the words of Christ Himself. this is because they are the words of the Holy Spirit, Who is also God.

let's treat them seriously.

forgive me as He forgave you

well hello everyone.

i live in a continuous state of blog-reluctancy.
this is due to my abhorrence of anonymous internet arguments. i learned long ago that to do so is to waste time.
still, i savour the art of writing, and enjoy my amateurish share.
therefore, i hope to continue my ramblings, despite the disagreements they may stir up.

i'm sorry to those anonymous readers who think that i will never understand.
perhaps i won't. i'd like to, and that is why i'm searching through the Scriptures. i need your forgiveness again and again for any falsity that i publish here. most of my blogs are simply a stumbling attempt to step closer to the truth, and to be honest-- i now disagree with many blogs i wrote previously. please be patient.

but above all-- i never want to dishonour the name of God. i hope you understand that i view God as quite the opposite of a "being of absolute evil."
there are many things i don't know about the character of the Lord, but if there is one thing i do know it is that He is good. if i implied in my last post that God was anything but perfect, please erase that thought from your mind.

perhaps i didn't express my true thoughts accurately. this is the danger of the written word.
i wish you were here so we could speak.

make no mistake:
God is compassionate. gracious. full of love. patient with us. slow to get angry. merciful. pure. holy.
and in His love for me, He saved me.
the only answer i can give as to "why" He saved me is that He is merciful. it certainly isn't anything that i did to deserve His kindness. it's not about what i do, but it's about Who He is.

my thoughts on the justice of God, on the existence of hell, on predestination, and on my depravity do not lead me to conclude anything negative--only that He is merciful. He does not give me what i do deserve, and He does give me what i don't deserve. phew.

if i thought that everyone deserved salvation, then i would get angry with God for creating those who aren't ever going to be saved. but i don't. i find only gratitude for His grace in saving any of us.

ok ok ok

i've got 9 minutes and 46 seconds to get a thought across.

total depravity.
as a Christian, i believe that everyone is born with a sinful nature.
this means that from birth we are slaves to sin. it is impossible for us not to sin. it is impossible for us to please God.
i also believe that because of that, everyone deserves punishment-- namely hell.
God, in justice, has the right to send everyone to eternal punishment.
including me.

also,
i believe that Jesus was perfect in every way, and didn't have a sinful nature.
He is the Son of God.
He died because of our sins, to take our punishment for us.
because of this, i am not going to hell.

i believe that in our sinful state, it is impossible to repent, and impossible to have faith in Christ.
i think that we can only become Christians if God enables us to.

we have free will-- we can do what we desire to do.
but as sinful creatures, we don't desire Christ, we don't desire holiness, we only desire sin.
we have the ability to do what we desire, but we don't desire Christ unless He gives that desire to us.

that is why i believe in predestination.
i still don't understand why God seems to give some people the desire to turn to Him and not all.

but i do know that He owes salvation to NO ONE.
we have no right to get angry at Him because He only chooses to enable some of us.
if He was obliged to give the whole world grace, then it wouldn't be grace.

i'm inexpressibly grateful that God has changed my heart.
i know that, in my natural form, i desire nothing except sin and to please myself.
i am in awe that He chose to transform me and save me.
because He has saved me-- i have faith in Him, and i follow Him.

maybe faith doesn't get us saved,
maybe we are saved by God, and then faith is the fruit of that. maybe we aren't saved because we repent, but we repent because we are saved.

fear of God,
and understanding my own depravity,
has finally helped me to get a glimpse of His grace.

so there you have it.
my most recent thoughts.

1 minutes and 35 seconds left.
i think i'm done.

This wound was a two year process.

It all started two years ago, when I was scrubbing the floorboards of the room,
In the Shaldon Hotel, down the hall, and around the corner from good old room 218,
Because my philanthropist roommates suggested
That we do “Extreme Home Makeover: Slum Hotel Edition.”
As I washed, a splinter of the slipshod floorboards dug down deep under my nail.

My finger has never been the same since,
With a thick white scar, and a diagonally slanted nail.
This didn’t bother my in any way, except for my hand vanity.

On Sunday night, the guys were playing violent floor hockey and I was bored.
I’d rather drink tea and chat.
So, I fulfilled my gender stereotype and
Washed their dishes, instead of joining them.
I’m not too lady-like though—
Up to my elbows in slimy bubbles and orange water (the drain was blocked),
Pouring gallons of elbow grease and steel wool into the mix.
I let out all my rage on that damn, unappreciated cookie sheet,
Stained by years of torpid teenager’s stubborn pizza grease.

The cruel combination of grease, suds, and steel
Led to my finger’s flaw breakdown.
The scar split,
And I thought I might go into shock from lack of blood.

Happy International Women's Day.

Dinnertime at Hope Renfrew

“Dinner is ready!”
Ready, finally.
She’s finally ready to open and share her life with us.
It’s taken some time, but the long-awaited bell has now chimed.
After years of preparation,
Anticipate. (Her story, that is, not dinner.)

“Please pass me the salt.”
The shaker is passed.
She shakes as she passes on to another grave tale of woe.
Didn’t know that much sorrow was possible for one to take.
Without shrivelling like a slug.
Way, way, too much. (Her sorrow, that is, not the salt)

“More juice for you, Grace?”
Carefully, I pour.
She pours out, lavishly, generously, easily, her heart
Her heart stretches and holds more than her glass would ever want to.
Both transparent for the moment
Horrible stuff. (Her anguish, that is, not the juice)

“Ice cream for dessert.”
Mmm, such soft sweetness.
She’s always so sweetly determined to be softly spoken
Despite the trauma that she experienced back when she was—
Her affect is like a raw child.
Delectable. (The ice cream, that is, not her past)

“I’ll wash, and you dry.”
Ew. Dirty dishes.
She feels dirty; everyone she knew used to tell her she was.
We can scrape and scrub and rinse until the heavy job is done.
As long as it will have to take.
Clean and perfect. (The dishes, that is, and the girl.)

Anticipate. Way, way too much. Horrible stuff. Delectable. Clean and perfect.
Her story, that is, not dinner.
Her sorrow, that is, not the salt.
Her anguish, that is, not the juice.
The ice cream, that is, not the past.
The dishes.

The girl.