My great-great grandmother was Frances Greenleaf Knapp. Her cousin was John Greenleaf Whittier, famous Quaker poet. Whittier was rather famous for saying, "we are not shakers!" whenever people misunderstood his faith.

I started reading up about the Shakers. There are 4 of them left. Four. They are praying for more converts, but their radical life of celibacy prevents them from birthing more Shakers. New Laws forbid them to adopt - so they have to wait on converts. They get about 70 requests a year from people who want to join them, but most are rejected because they aren't serious enough about their relationship with God, rejection of sin, or reliance on a communal lifestyle. They are praying for new converts, they get about 70 "applicants" a year - and yet almost all are turned away.

I am almost sure that if a black lesbian showed up at my church with an application for membership we would immediately reject her application. We would explain to her that there are churches more suited for "her kind," I imagine. She can go to a black church or a Metroplolitan Community Church if she wants to continue living in sin. I doubt strongly we would accept her as one of us and allow God to convict her in her sin issue. I personally don't have a problem with a devout Christian confronting another devout Christian about a sin issue in his or her life. I have huge problems when a Christian judges a non-Christian for his or her sin ... and even bigger problems when we outright deny fellowship and membership to someone who is openly living in sin.

Landa Cope said something that suprised me and that I didn't believe. She said that every gay man was abused as a child either sexually or physically. This suprises me and I didn't believe it. I've checked with all of my gay friends and it holds true in my circle of friends. Now, I realize that a lot of people are molested or beaten as children without becoming gay ... but, I can't help but think that maybe, just maybe gay people don't choose their orientation. Maybe the actions of others dictate the orientation of a person. (Nothing revelatory ... just a new thought for me.)

So, I think about these things and I remember that at one point we discriminated against black people. We differentiate our discrimanation of homosexuals from our discrimination of blacks by qualifying that homosexuals choose their lifestyle. If they don't choose their lifestyle ... well, then we are just repeating history. I don't want to ever tell my grandchildren that I didn't learn my lessons from the past. I want them to know that I was a progressive Christian and that I fought for equality for all humans.

Again with these lofty ideals that I can't live up to. I'm not going to stop trying, no sir.

Welcome to Isaiah 58. We discussed this passage in class today. When asked our definition of fasting everyone discussed the idea of giving up food and suffering for Jesus.

5 Is this the kind of fast I have chosen,
only a day for a man to humble himself?
Is it only for bowing one's head like a reed
and for lying on sackcloth and ashes?
Is that what you call a fast,
a day acceptable to the LORD ?

6 "Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?

7 Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe him,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?

I begin to immediately think of the 30 hour famine that my youth group did every year. We tried for so long to talk the youth group into serving in a soup kitchen. There was always a problem because only the older kids could serve food. The younger kids would get to paint or clean or something. I'm still disapointed that we never served the poor. We did the 30 hour famine every year. We raised a lot of money ... it was actually our biggest event on the youth group calendar. I don't have a huge problem with World Vision, but I am starting to see a problem with the fact that the only concept of fasting we have is one of denying ourselves of food.

We raised a good bit of money. (More than 15% of it going to administrative fees!) We didn't actually help any poor people. We never invited the poor in to help us "break our fast." We missed the point on fasting. Yeah, our youth group missed the point on a lot of things. We missed the point on a continual basis. We never had enough fun to keep youth interested and we never offered a gospel other than the "get out of Hell free pass." We didn't change lives.

We missed the point on fasting, we missed the point on salvation, and we missed the point of youth ministry. I disagree with almost every youth ministry idea that Pastor Craig ever had.

Pastor Craig had a heart attack this morning. He loves the kids in youth group. He has some flaws when it comes to youth ministry - but he isn't nearly as flawed when it comes to loving kids. He hasn't changed all the lives of all the kids. He has impacted a goodly number of kids, though. I'm not going to be bitter about it anymore. I realize that we don't agree on everything - but we do agree on the idea of loving people.

I'm still here. I feel much better. Mentally, emotionally, and physically I am better. I have faced a lot of things this semester. I have had pneumonia twice - for starters. I'm appealing to move off campus. I have been rejected twice, and now my appeal is to go before the president's cabinet. I will have the nurse write me a letter detailing my illnesses and hopefully she will recommend that I move off campus. Dr. Smith is writing me a letter of personal recommendation. My parents have told the dean of students that I will not be returning next semester if I am not allowed to move off campus.

I'm not worried. I'm suprisingly content. I have a huge paper due, a book to read (I read it once already), and a big project. I'm not worried. I know that everything is going to work out. I have been in the house that I want to rent - and I know that I'm going to live there. I know that it will work out for good.

I am at peace. I'm not sure what will happen, but I know that God is sovereign.

I want to be a "Patch Adams" Christian and not a "Survivor" Christian. I watched Television today. I might be flogged if the administration reads this, but I enjoyed every minute of it.

I watched Survivor - and I'm struck by how banal it really is. First we hear the conversation, then the person tells us what he or she said, and then we get striking, shocking social commentary on what was said.

So, uhmm ... do you like to eat coconut?
(voice over) So I asked her if she likes coconut ...
(commentary) Because, I don't think I could fornicate with a girl who didn't enjoy coconut.

Really, is this what the American Public wants to hear? I see the church doing this a lot - we , ney, I say a lot of things that don't really mean a whole bunch. "Oh, school violence is bad - that's original. Did God have to point that one out to you, or did you figure it out yourself?" It's easy for me to participate in the establisments that I'm opposed to and then to talk bad about them. That's easy.

I also watched Patch Adams today. He took a bold step and changed things. He hasn't changed the world, ... yet, but be has made a difference. He was weird - and he loved lavishly.

I think I want to be a "Patch Adams" Christian and not a "Survivor" Christian.

I love Methodists.

I went to the Thanksgiving staff dinner at Camp Glisson. Some days I forget how freeing grace is. I worked with 75 college kids who go to secular universities and openly share the love and grace of Jesus Christ with everyone they come in contact with. I'm moved to tears by their graciousness and love.

When I left Camp Glisson I was very sick and pretty depressed. I remember thinking that I hadn't made any friends and that those people didn't really love me. I was surrounded by love, today.

I haven't had the best day. My petition to move off campus was rejected. The last step is to appeal to the President's cabinet. I had a meeting with a Dean to discuss my request. Everything I said bounced off the ceiling. I, sadly, had to have my father call him. Dad called him and the two had a really good conversation. My dad said the same things I had said, but he listened to my father. The Dean now realizes that if I'm not allowed to move off campus that I will be leaving the school. When I said that it didn't mean anything, but when my father said it - it was gospel.

I'm tired of being treated as a child. It was refreshing to be surrounded by Methodists who love God with their whole heart. I'm tired of people with a devotion for God that can't get past silly rules. I pray that I never fall into legalism again. I know that some days I skate on thin ice with the idea of love. Some days I believe that God's love is all that matters ... most days I realize that "God loves you just the way you are, but He loves you too much to let you stay that way."

Jesus was a Quarterback!

I went with my youth group to see "Facing the Giants." I am embarrassed by most Christian media. This movie (except for a few, rare touching moments) is not an exception. It was pretty bad. The acting was off, the plot was both predictable and contrived, and there was more than one scene with a glowing field and a man reading scripture.

I'm one of those liberal Christians who doesn't think that football and Jesus are irrevocable intertwined. I just don't think that way. Most of the way through the film (in fact every instance where someone said that they need to praise Jesus in times of sorrow and in times of plenty) I prayed that they would lose a big game - and still admit victoriously that God is good.

Of course, they didn't. They won the big game. If you have Jesus your football team will win. That's why you should accept Jesus, right now. Without Him your football team is screwed! Why can't Christian media ever admit that some days things don't go well - and that's not because of a lack of faith. The movie showed Christians have a really sucky life - then revival broke out and everything was better. Everything.

That's the Christianity we have to offer. If you accept our Christ everything will go perfectly (we promise.) Maybe that's the reason that so many people are fed up with Christianity. We withold the promises of scripture - and make up promises that Jesus never said.

I am officially stating my support for Wesley Clark as the democratic presidential nominee. A Clark/Clinton or Clark/Obama ticket would be an excellent choice for America. Wesley Clark is a strong military hero, a four star general, and a passionate moderate. I think that Clark's foreign policy experience (he lead NATO in the same capacity as Truman), his military experience(vietnam, kosovo, and the 1st gulf war(, coupled with the fact that he has only a small (and generally non-conflicting) voting record as opposed to the senators who would run makes him a great candidate.

Sadly, I can't vote in the primaries (I'm a registered Libertarian) and I don't hold much political clout.

I would also like to recommend Carol Moseley-Braun for a cabinet position in Clark's presidency. Moseley-Braun is the only black, female senator - ever. She is one of 2 blacks to be senators in the 20th century (and was the only Africa-American in the senate during her term.) I really think she is a well spoke and accomplished woman who deserves a cabinet position.

"We're here to celebrate the words of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., not because he spoke them, but because he lived them." - Andrew Young, former Atlanta Mayor, at the groundbreaking ceremonies for the new MLK center.

I realize that I say a lot of things I don't live. Not that I'm dishonest or don't keep my word. I just realized that I say some pretty radical statements but rarely have the life to back them up. I think that Jesus is more radical than the church will ever give him credit for. I think that I should live more radically.

I'm starting to think about these things. It's a start. I'm too afraid to put down anything definite. Because, well - I wouldn't be comfortable doing any of the things that would be radical. I still can't leave my nets. I don't even have nets, yet, to leave. I am in college "building my nets" why do I need to build nets I'm going to leave behind? I understand that training and preparation are important. I don't think I'm ready for anything radical yet. It's sad to admit that.

I recently had a wonderfully justifying dream in which the administration came to "shake down" my room to look for liberal contraband. After they had searched my room and couldn't find anything exceding liberal I opened my bookbag and handed them by Bible. I cooly said, "I think this is what you're looking for."

It was a good dream.

I talked with my grandmother today. I guess she's doing alright, but she doesn't sound well at all. She is really out of it still. I guess that's to be expected. I'm praying for my little cousin. He's going down to visit her tomorrow. I'm praying that he will be able to understand why Grandma's head is cut open ... and also that he can boost her spirits. I am content with the will of God. If my grandmother had died I would have accepted it will praise. My grandparents are finally proud of me. They have the sporty, athletic grandson they always prayed for. I also know beyond a shadow of a doubt that my grandparents love Jesus and have accepted his grace. That's a beautiful thing - beautiful enough to make death a non-issue.

My request to move off campus was denied at the first level and has moved on to the appeals process. I'm still holding out hope and praying for grace.

I'm going to see The Prestige tonight. Hope it's good.

Suddenly I want to go to a High school reunion!

I found my high school year book. It was a fun read. I'm quoted saying that being a senior means ..."it's your last year and you get to pick on freshmen." Now, no one I know would believe that I pick on freshmen. Why would I say that? And, since I was in Russia for the second half of Senior year I'm really wondering if someone just made that up.

I started thinking about what I have accomplished since I left high school. I have spent a total of less than 50 days in "good ole General Kane, PA." I have worked at two church camps and almost earned almost 50 credit hours of college credit. (having completed my 47th credit hour at the end of this semester means I almost earned almost 50 credit hours.) I have learned a great deal about Jane Austen, lived with no fewer than 10 different people, put several hours into a new church plant, started a drama ministry, worked with youth, and made tremendous friends.

I have also lost touch with a lot of old friends, been majorly sick more than in the rest of my life, and haven't seen my mother for more than a week at a time in almost a year. It's been hard but I think it will end up being worth it.

I want to go to a reunion now, because no one has accomplished anything. Other than a few kids having fornicated their way into parenthood or worked their way into a steady job, no one has accomplished much of anything. Except, we have all grown. I have grown a tremendous amount since leaving home. I imagine that the rest of my class has grown as well.

I feel that I have been keeping a secret. I will hopefully get my letter in the mail tomorrow from my parents and will be able to send in my request to move off campus. It feels to dissidant. I honestly don't know what will happen if they refuse my request. Here's to my personal happiness. Here's to hoping.

I'm one of those painfully tolerant people. Painful because I am tolerant of everything except intolerance. I realize the full extent of irony contained in my current position - I think I like it. I believe that when we embrace diversity we truly embrace God.

John chapter 1 translated into Spanish says that in the beginning was the verb ... not the word, but the verb. In Irian Jaiya Jesus became the "sweet potato of life" because in their culture they don't eat bread, only sweet potatoes. I believe that we will never fully understand the Bible until it has been translated into every language. I believe that we learn more truth about God from every culture. I am disgusted because the church I love so dearly leaves no room for diversity. I consider it a heavy sin issue that there isn't a single black person in my church.

I find that a difference in theological opinions is a beautiful thing. I get worried when a church has no diversity theologically. I love diversity.

Bill, if I remember correctly you once posted(or preached or conversed) about a friend who went to a tolerance training meeting where everyone had to go around the table and discuss how they had become more tolerant. When it was his turn he explained that he had become less tolerant - but more loving. I like that story. I love considering myself a tolerant person - in a postmodern world you have to be or no one will listen to you ... but I think in reality I handly my tolerance with love.

I realize now how intirely cynical I become when I get sick. I won't lie. It sucks to have pneumonia. I sucked the last time I had it and it sucks this time around. I was hoping (yesterday, before the doctor appointment) that I was just delusional and that the doctor would laugh at me and excuse my silliness by explaining that I had a soar throat because of _________ (blank.)

So, I'm on lavaquine, again. Let's hope it works this time. My friend Dustin dropped me off and picked me up. I'm not well enough to drive myself. I was in the doctor's office for over 2 hours. I got to take him out for steak afterwards. I really enjoy dinner conversations over steak. All dinner conversations are nice, but when a conversation is over a steak dinner - it's amazing. You can talk about anything and everything over steak. I love eating steak for this reason alone. It's a beautiful conversation food. We talked about our families - it was cathartic.

Well, my grandmother's surgery went well. I'm going to the doctor today. I haven't told my mother I'm sick again. I hope that I will get a clean bill of health and I will just have to tell her when the insurance check shows up. Idealistic? You bet.

I've come to that point in life where I am content. I realize that worrying isn't going to change anything. I think I would have been okay even if my grandmother had died. I mean, I would have cried a good bit, but it wouldn't have been devastating. I am hoping to get a note from the doctor to move off campus. That would be phenomenal. Here's to hoping I don't have pneumonia again. That would be teh sux.

We talked with a kid in a coffee shop who is young and idealistic. I disagree with a lot of what he said ... but I like the way he said it. I like the days on which I am young and idealistic. I hope for that youthfullness and that sence of hope, on my good days at least.

So, here's to hoping! I raise my glass and propose a toast. To hope!

I want to give up.

My grandmother had an anyurism (sp?) today. I haven't heard anything since this afternoon, so I think she's okay. I was trying to plow through the 50 pages of Jane Austen I still need to finish when I realized. I don't care anymore.

I'm starting to get sick, again. I went out for coffee with friends and we started talking to a kid from the falls. He was arguing about doctrine and I realized. I don't care anymore.

I can't confront anyone. About anything. I just deal with emotion and my emotionalism. I just want to put my head down and cry. It hurts to breath, again. I just don't care about my classes. I enjoy them ... but they don't mean anything to me. I don't even want to begin thinking about my Jane Austen term paper. I don't care anymore.

I wonder what's so bad about crying? Why does everyone put up so many stigmas about it? Why can't guys cry? I'm going to go cry myself to sleep. I will probably wake up to write my Austen paper tomorrow.

I'm praying for peace, grace, health, my grandmother, and my best friend's girlfriend - Bobby. Pray with me.

All I know about Gerald is that he had been in prison for a number of years before he gave his life to Christ. According to him he had "worked for satan for so long" he didn't know anything other than that. We discussed the temptation to sin. Gerald told us about one of his temptations to sin this week. He was at a hardware store - one with jacked up prices - and he was buying two connector pieces. He had bought them a few months earlier for another project and they had been 2.50 each. This time they were $5 a piece. He had been in prison for stealing. It wouldn't be anything new to him. But, Jesus convicted him. See, a mexican boy works for him - and this mexican boy wants to learn about Jesus. And, he knew that the mexican boy would have a lot of questions if Gerald bought one connector and then produced two at the job sight. So, Gerald didn't steal the connectors. Gerald talked about living under Grace and not under the law.

I've figured it out this way. I'm not sure if I'm right, theologically, but I know it helps me to understand. We are all little kids playing out in the yard. The church (and Toccoa Falls) tries to put up a fence around the yard. It's a way to contain the kids so they don't run out into the street and get smashed by a car. That's the law. It's a fence that keeps us from running into the road. Sometimes that fence is very confining. At TFC that fence is built a good hundred yards from the road. We are trapped. God doesn't need a fence. He's out in the yard playing with the little kids. He makes sure that they know that the road is bad and dangerous. He gives the kids plenty of room to run and have fun - but he's always watching out for their safety. That's living under Grace.

The Law: A fence, meant to contain us and stop us from doing bad.
The Grace: A Father who keeps his children safe by playing with them and encouraging them to do good.

Gerald never dealt well with the fences the church put up. It was the only thing they could do, though. Gerald has a lot more fun and enjoys his life now that he is out on the field playing with God. It's how grace works.

It's been a while since I've blogged about a lot of the things I have been thinking about. Here are a random compilation of my thoughts, musings, and life:

I was watching Sesame Street with my children (the Kindergarten class I work with) and they were at an art museum. Oscar the Grouch found a display of broken statues and sang a song about how much he loved them, how they were broken and shattered and pieces were missing, but that he loved them anyway and thought that they were beautiful. It reminded me of how we as humans are broken and shattered and pieces are missing and yet Christ loves us and thinks we're beautiful. I see so much brokeness in the lives of people around me - and I know that Christ thinks they are all beautiful.

I talked with a man from my Sunday School class about the contemporary service at my church. He is a great guy and really loves the Lord. He is upset that people eat and drink during the worship times (I will continue to stuff my face, but in a more worshipful manner) I asked him how he can support drinking coffee during Sunday School hour. I didn't want to have to trap him, but it's a silly argument that he supports. He was also upset at how the youth dressed for worship. I understand his point - but I explained that it is the fashion and I would rather have the youth there and not dressed appropriately than to have them not there at all. He agreed. Pete was 50 years old when he first married. He started coming to church after he retired - so I think he is new to the faith. There's a lot of enthusiasm there which is lacking in some of the other older adults.

One of the girls in the kindergarten class I work with talks nonstop. She never shuts up. The kids were working on a beaded craft project and after I was done reading to some kids I went over to work on the art project with them. She was sitting there, having accomplished absolutely nothing on her own beaded craft project, telling everyone else how they should do there projects. She didn't even have one bead on but she felt justified to go around the room and "teach" all of the students who were half finished how to do the project. It made me so angry. It made me angry because I do it. I tell people how to live out their faith - even though I sometimes suck at it. I'm a hypocrite as often as anyone else. I've been thinking a lot about this.

I don't know how important marriage is to me. I see a lot of people who are single and who have a lot more free time, can do whatever they want, and can work a lot more for the kingdom. My friend Ricky has 8 kids. He can't really just pick up and go overseas as a missionary. If he was single he would be able to do that. I don't want a wife and kids to hold me back. I want a wife (and possibly kids) who would be flexible enough to go wherever God sends us. I still want to get married, but it's not a focus anymore. I have also decided that when I am overseas I want to send my kids to a British "public" (aka private) school. I'm sure it will be expensive, but it will be the best education in the world and I won't have to worry about them in a violent nation or that they are not being educated in an MK school.

I made my English Lit professor cry today. They were tears of laughter, but it was still such an oddity. I think we were mocking one of the characters in Northanger Abbey and it just became funny enough that she had to dab tears away. I love my Jane Austen class and right now could fail it and still feel like I accomplished a lot in it.

I have written my appeal to move off campus. I will probably wait until I get a yeah or neh from the administration before I discuss it with my roomate. I just think it is best for my mental health. I praise God for my church, friends, and pastors who have been so much help to me during this trying time in my faith walk and life. I'm never taking steroids again - I can't deal with mood swing inducing medicine well. My church has been so amazingly supportive. I am also thankful that I have parents who, although firm, are willing to understand that comprimise had to happen for my own well being and are allowing me to search for an off campus apartment.

I talked with Rachel about my father. I explained why we don't get along and all of the problems. I told her about being raised by a single parent and how hard that was for my mom. I told her that my dad never tossed me a ball. In my 19 years he has never thrown anything for me to catch other than car keys! It's such a simple thing and it has affected me greatly. I had never been willing to openly admit that. It was cathartic.

I'm reading "In Cold Blood" by Truman Capote. I love his writing style. I read a lot of his writing over fall break. In one piece he explains (by way of a two-person monologue!) his views on faith. He reveals that he really struggled with the idea of a loving God. He believed in God and even loved God, but he had a terrible time believing that God love him and was willing to forgive him. While research for this about the murder of a Methodist family in Kansas he met a lot of God fearing folk. You can tell that initially he dismissed it, but after a while he was intrigued by their simple faith. I hope that my simple faith is enough to make people curious about my Savior.

If you read all of this, welcome to my life. Thank you for joinging me for such a long time. If you read all of this - well, you probably love me a lot. Thank you.

The Fringe sat around a grouping of tables. Every person leaning in towards the woman speaking. Landa talked with us about every area of our lives and how to apply Christ to each area of said lives. There's nothing fantastic about Landa L. Cope. She is an older woman with short spikey hair and black-rimmed glasses. Her smoker's laugh and scrunched up smile are laughable. And yet everyone, the dozen people who refuse to identify themselves with the main-line Christianity so prevalent on TFC, all sat around her drinking coffee, leaning in, and doing everything in their power to not miss a word.

She hasn't said anything new (except the word "boob," which I imagine has never been said in the chapel before.) Her points are insightful, but not extraordinary. So what sets this woman apart from all of the other chapel speakers? We talked about sex for probably half an hour. We laughed heartily (she made a joke alluding to the fact that God made our arms long enough for self-exploration - and how funny it would be if our arms weren't long enough), but she came to the same conclusions that all of the obese, white, old, male preachers have come to. What makes us so compelled.

I think it's the Holy Spirit. There's something extraordinary about the way she presents herself - extra enough to let everyone know that this isn't Landa we are seeing, but rather Christ Jesus himself. So, I had coffee today with Jesus. Actually, quite a few Jesuses. (The plural of Jesus? Jesi?) Around that table sat quite a few people in whom I see our Savior on a daily basis.

I have a renewed hope. I want people to see the Savior in me.

Pete asked me if I could play the piano for Sunday school. I've been practicing daily, I hope to be able to play the hymns for Sunday school by January.

We sang a hymn of no extraordinary regard. Alma was sick today and Sam led the singing time. Sam is a tall, old man with ears too big for not only his head, but his whole body. His entire being is curved so that from the side he looks like a big S - perfect for any sitting position, but rather peculiar standing behind a ram-rod straight podium.

Monteen Brown requested the next hymn, "Rescue the Perishing." Monteen often requests that everyone call her Aunteen. She remained single all of her life, and it's important for her to feel that she has family. Her father and mother both died of Alzheimer's disease. She cared for both of them through the difficult sickness. Her siblings have all suffered and died from Alzheimer's. She always remembers even me, a college kid she sees once a week. It is a statistical oddity that she doesn't have Alzheimer's yet. She is proud of her years of service at "Belk's" department store. She feels that caring for her parents and watching out for her nieces and nephews is God's ministry in her life. She sits with the college kids who sit by themselves.

Aunteen never married, never moved away from home, never made any serious money, and never raised any children of her own. By so many standards of this world she failed. By God's standards she has been an amazing success.

Rescue the perishing, care for the dying, snatch them in pity from sin and the grave; weep o'er the erring one, lift up the fallen, tell them of Jesus, the mighty to save.

Rescue the perishing, care for the dying;Jesus is merciful, Jesus will save.

Though they are slighting him, still he is waiting, waiting the penitent child to receive; plead with them earnestly, plead with them gently; he will forgive if they only believe.

Rescue the perishing, duty demands it; strength for thy labor the Lord will provide; back to the narrow way patiently win them; tell the poor wanderer a Savior has died.

I'm sad. I'm frustrated. I doubt.

That's my cycle. That's how things work.

It makes me sad that people at a Christian College feel they have accomplished "Christian Community" by living with other guys and taking a yearly trip together. I'm frustrated that I had to be in the picture of the men of my building (I didn't even know the names of some of the people on the other side of the building.) And I doubt that Christian community is a real thing. I see myself chasing a white rabbit down its hole only to find a world that bears no resonance with the real one. I've found that Christian community only seems to work at the exclusion of non-Christian community. That's not Biblical.

It makes me sad that people can hinder the Gospel by a narrow interpretation of obscure references with multiple possible explanations. I'm frustrated with people who have no room left in their theologies for God to move. And I doubt the Bible. I see a Bible that we have deified, made a graven image of, and used to support hate for centuries. Whether it is inerrant or not doesn't matter to me most days - only if it's worth it to pick up my Bible and try and read a page or two.

I'm sad that people won't look me in the eye. I'm frsutrated that people will end a conversation when I say something uncomfortably liberal. (I understand that I sometimes cross the line of decency.) And I doubt whether I want to be grouped with these people who call themselves Christians at Toccoa Falls. If I can't be forgiven for being a liberal (Christ has forgiven me of all of my sins) by other Christians, why should I count myself among their number?

I'm sad. I'm frustrated. I doubt.

It's how things usually go. I'm praying for grace, peace, and understanding. Pray with me.

It was during the summer before my freshman year in high school that I, at church camp, went to my counselor and confessed that I "struggled" with masturbation. I knew that I was the only boy on the face of the earth who masturbated almost daily. Once I had even done it 6 times in a day. I had a serious problem and needed to confess.

Now that I'm older (and old enough to do a Wikipedia search on masturbation without giggling and turning red) I realize that I was not alone. Ever. I've started talking with people honestly about masturbation. One kid did it 12 times in one day. Wikipedia says that more than half of all guys masturbate daily. I was normal - so incredibly normal.

I admitted my "sin" to the guys I was staying with that week. They all supported me and showed me a lot of love - but I still felt so alone. I was the only one in that room man enough to admit my "sin." Probably half of the guys there struggled much more than I did. None would admit it. I lasted 3 months before I masturbated again. I was so ashamed that day. I thought that I had failed God and could never be taken back.

I was so wrong then. God took me back (I hope no one is shocked) and continues to love me. I realize how incredibly normal I am. I realize how incredibly often God takes all of us back.

I think that the church needs to be more honest and to openly address the issue of masturbation. I am going to let my children know that it is completely normal (and healthy, maybe.)