Tuesday, April 16, 2013

Thinking out loud

When I shared my news of coming to Israel, I knew what most people would say: “it’s not safe.”  It is common, almost expected, to read reports of unrest leading to bombs, rock slinging, rockets, and threats of nuclear war here in the Middle East.  It seems it has become a “normal” way of life here.  I admit that sometimes when I get on a bus, I notice the thought sneaking into my mind of  “what if?”  

My usual response to those who may have expressed concern was “it’s not safe anywhere anymore.”  A few years ago, a student at the University of Oklahoma was blown in half when the bomb in his backpack detonated; the explosion rocked my apartment and rattled my windows.  It was called a “lone suicide”, and not considered a possible terrorist attack, although several hundred feet away over 80,000 fans were packed into Oklahoma Memorial Stadium to watch OU play Kansas State.  I have never heard of a person going through all the trouble to make a bomb with the intention of blowing up only himself.   

Last night I awoke at midnight to the news of what happened at the Boston Marathon a couple hours before.  I thought I was dreaming.  My first reaction to events like these is always anger.  It makes me angry that a person can be so filled with hate to snuff out the lives of others.  It makes me angry it is not safe to enjoy routine things like going to a movie, a football game, school, or in this case running a marathon. 

In America, the hot issue still is gun control.  I, along with many, many others, am frustrated: guns are not the problem.  Yes, guns make it easier to commit violent crimes and cause injury and death, but so do common household chemicals that are used to cook meth; once taken, the actions of that person are unpredictable, and meth lab explosions are common.  Cars kill thousands every year when alcohol is consumed and then the person who is drunk sits behind the wheel; all the rocks in Israel should be done away with so no one else can fling them at human targets (recently a baby); all planes should be grounded so they cannot be hijacked…the list goes on.  What do all these “weapons” have in common?  People.   

I have no intention here of getting very deep, or I may never find my way back out.  In all truth, I feel these are just the random thoughts of a person on little sleep, but I am conscious enough to know one thing: the objects themselves are not the problem—we are.  I include myself because I am human and I am seriously flawed and capable of doing great harm.  People are flawed.  It doesn’t make sense to me to get so worked up over “God” being mentioned in school to ban prayer, material, and anything else that may “offend” people who don’t believe in Him, only for the same people to get mad at Him when little kids are shot at school and wonder where He was; and then (and only then) is it ok to say a prayer.  Why can’t we pray before the tragedy strikes as opposed to after?  If praying after a tragedy produces results (if not why bother praying at all?), then why is it ludicrous to think that praying before might prevent it?  Why are people in America screaming about tolerance and equality when being a Christian is not tolerated or treated equally?   

Yes I am a Christian.  Yes I believe in the Bible, from the first letter in Genesis 1 to the last letter in Revelation 22.  Yes I believe the Bible is the only truth.  Yes I believe in a heaven and yes I believe in a hell.  How could a loving God send people to hell?  He doesn’t.  The choice is ours.  Hell was not created for us.  God loves us so much He sent His only Son to this earth to be ridiculed, tortured, mutilated, and nailed to a tree naked on display for all to see.  And He did all this for you.  Why?  It took me a long time to figure that one out.  Jeremiah 17:9 says “the heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked, who can know it?”  “Desperately wicked” in the Hebrew means “incurably sick”…wow.  We are doomed, no?  Isn’t that how someone would feel after being diagnosed with terminal cancer?  They’re told there’s nothing that can be done.  They have a horrible disease, and it will kill them.  Everyone is born into the world with heart cancer.  No amount of chemo can eradicate it, we cannot eat enough healthy foods to heal it, we can give, give, give and do, do, do and still we will fall short.   

To think our hearts are wicked is not easy to accept.  Everyone wants to be a good person or thinks they’re a good person.  By whose standards?  The hijackers on 9/11 thought they were good people because they were fulfilling a “holy” mission.  Were they?  What are we measuring ourselves by?  If we get down to it and examine ourselves honestly and realistically, we’ll know the answer.  It took me 19 years to realize I was on a destructive path and that I was incapable of changing myself.  I am incapable of keeping just ten commandments, let alone the other 603 listed in the Old Testament.   

Does passing a law keep the act from being committed?  No, it just creates consequences for transgressing it.  Isn’t the old cliché “rules are made to be broken” really true?  We can’t help ourselves.  And that’s the problem.  I was just reminded of an episode on T.V.  It was one of those medical dramas, and there was a patient talking with one of the doctors.  The patient was a pedophile, and he was begging the doctor to castrate him because he didn’t trust himself; he knew eventually he would go after more children.  Wow.  What lengths would you go to in order to keep yourself from doing that “one thing”?  Or do you think of someone else and say “at least I’m not like that person…” to make yourself feel better?  Why spend so much time medicating when you can have the cure?   

Jesus lived a perfect life, he never sinned.  He was God in flesh.  He fulfilled the law we are incapable of keeping.  Sacrifices were carried out all through the Old Testament, right up to the destruction of the Second Temple in 70 A.D.  Blood had to be shed to atone for sin.  Jesus was the ultimate, perfect, and final sacrifice.  According to the Law, I am supposed to be on that cross.  And so are you.  And the rest of humanity.  But Jesus took your spot.  He took mine.   

After accepting Christ, I noticed a difference in me.  Others noticed a difference in me.  At the time I couldn’t explain it, I just knew it was true.  For example, all of a sudden I wanted to read the Bible, so I went and bought one, and devoured it.  Over the years, I have changed.  I am still changing, and I will always be changing; it’s an ongoing process.  It’s nothing I have done, in the sense of being able to change myself.  God, through the Holy Spirit, has changed me and is changing me; the only thing I can do is let Him. 

Well this was the last thing I planned on writing today, but maybe it needed to be said.  Maybe I’ll receive some hate mail now, and that’s ok.  Whether or not you believe in a God or the Bible, I can say without a doubt that He is real.  He is not dead, He is alive.   

One year ago today, my grandfather passed away.  He suffered a massive stroke in 2009 that left him unable to care for himself or even recognize people.  I visited one day and he knew I was now living in Oklahoma and remembered that I had been skydiving, but he couldn’t remember my name.  The last time I saw him alive was a year ago last month just before Easter.  He was excited to see me, told me several times he loved me, but again didn’t know my name.  But I knew that he knew me.  The most incredible thing happened; a lady from the local church, a very old friend of the family, had stopped to visit at the same time, and went to the piano I remember him always playing, and started to play old hymns.  He lit up like a Christmas tree, trying to sing the words, snapping his fingers on his one good hand.  And then he started to cry.  When my aunt went to him and asked why he was crying, he mumbled he was happy.  My parents and I had a long drive ahead of us, so before leaving we all held hands and Mrs. Snow prayed for us and for my grandfather.  I held his bad hand, the one he could no longer use, and was overcome to hear him praying next to me, saying “Amen” and “thank You Jesus” several times.  Though the stroke caused extensive damage to his mental and physical capabilities, he still knew his Lord.  If you ask me, Jesus’ name was the one most worth remembering. 

There are a lot of people reading my blog that I do not know personally; according to the stats I also have followers from Russia and Germany; I think that’s awesome.  I will say that if anyone has any questions, statements, complaints, what have you, I have set up an email account you can write them to: staceyinisrael@gmail.com

Of course public comments are still welcome. 

I will end this post by saying that I am saddened by the recent events in Boston and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since I found out.  I am and will continue to pray for those affected by this horrific tragedy.                               

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