It's presidential election season, and you've likely had your fair share of  the candidates (unless you've hidden under a rock - in which case, why would you be reading this?) With the last change of office in POTUS came an undercurrent of hope, with many swept up by the prospect of change. This election has revealed that people are still attracted to the rhetoric of change. There is a continued restlessness, though one can argue it looks different with each election.

To interpret the persistent restlessness is to first realize that people know that things are not the way they're supposed to be. And the truth is yes, they aren't, and they will never be until Christ returns and God's Kingdom is fully established. This yearning tells me that we were meant for something better (2 Corinthians 5:1-5). Second, this ought not to leave Christians apathetic about the present. We ought to care deeply about our government, as its establishment is God ordained (Romans 13:1). Third, we must live in the tension of the already but not yet - knowing that Christ is the ultimate King but as He instructed, we are to continue to bring the gospel to the ends of the earth (Matthew 28:19-20). And then the end will come (Matthew 24:14), and an inauguration I can't wait to witness.

I just finished reading through the book of Genesis and one thing that stuck out was the number of times the Bible records that Joseph cried or wept. He had to turn away and weep as he was reunited with his brothers after being ruthlessly tossed and sold into slavery (Genesis 42:24). He cried when his brothers brought back Benjamin (Genesis 43:30). He wept loudly when he couldn't withhold his identity anymore to his brothers (Genesis 45:2). He wept on Benjamin and his brothers (Genesis 45:14) and again on his father's neck after being reunited (Genesis 46:29) and a final time at his father's passing (Genesis 50:1). That's a whole lot of tears, but what also comes to mind are the times Joseph wasn't recorded as crying -

• Not when he was ditched by his brothers and sold into slavery
• Not when he was falsely accused and thrown in jail
• Not when his jail stint was longer than anticipated having been forgotten by the chief cupbearer after interpreting his dream

Joseph could well have been crying in those moments (I know I would have!), but in trying to understand what's recorded tells me there is a kind of weeping at the end of a trial when God's purposes are more fully revealed. For Joseph, he saw God's purpose (Genesis 50:20) and had faith to still show compassion to his brothers. Sometimes when you've already mustered faith through extended difficulty and realize you are still being called to faith, the tears flow. I have to think part of Joseph's tears were about this.

One of my professors in grad school said something that has stuck with me ever since. He said that all beginnings are hard as he addressed our class of bright eyed, freshly matriculated grad students. I don't think I quite understood the significance of what he said in the moment, but it's  surprising how often I refer to it every time I start something new. I'm in the middle of something new at work. And while I've had many  beginnings since grad school, the vulnerability of not knowing what I'm doing always unsettles me. Understanding that all beginnings are hard allows me to see that what I'm experiencing is normal.  It's normal not to know what you're doing. It's normal for this to cause stress. It's normal that it's going to take time for things to get settled.

The crazy thing is that while I know that all of this is normal I still think it's not normal when it happens to me. And were it not for grace, I'd be working to have you believe this too.

To say that you have an exclusive claim on truth is a practical crime these days, quite literally. And yet unless you settle on something absolute, there is no rest. Even if you declare that there are no absolutes you are yourself commending an absolute.  In a world of angst, I find Scripture to be an anchor. As things appear worse in the world, Scripture reminds me there is nothing new that hasn't been seen before (Eccesiates 1:9-10). When Jesus prayed for us to be sanctified in the truth He declared God's word to be truth (John 17:17). It's piercing (Hebrews 4:12) and when preached (Acts 2:37) it cuts the heart. But yet God's word is simultaneously sweet and pleasurable (Psalm 119:103). It's altogether precious (Psalm 139:17). And I believe what it says. 

Sola Scriptura. 

I got a lot of things done last year. I feel good about that. They say being successful requires a fanatical type of discipline. I have this discipline in spurts, but in subsequent moments am mired in complacency. It's like I'm driving along at high speed only to put on the brakes completely. I've had to deal with this complacency at various moments, including getting into this new year. What's behind this complacency? I can think of a few things:

1. Fear. I'm very much swayed by what I see (or don't see) in front of me. I think of Peter, who when asked to get out of the boat and walk towards Jesus in the midst of the storm, was swayed more by the storm than his Savior (Matthew 14:22-33).

2. Overanalyzing. I can't help but always be analyzing something. When something doesn't make sense I'll balk and question its validity. Nicodemus was very much in this mindset, and was perhaps overanalyzing in his exchange with Jesus on being born again (John 3:1-22). In overanalyzing I forget to allow for faith.

3. Mistrust. I suppose this could be defined as a lack of faith, but really it's a misplaced trust in self over God. Thus it becomes mistrust because if I ask myself if I really trust God - like the kind it says in Proverbs 3:5 with all my heart - I'm not sure I can honestly say that I do. Mistrust makes me unwilling to move forward and allow seeds of doubt.

Now that I've broken down this complacency, it's time to deal with it...

Part of being a perfectionist is presenting myself in the best light possible. I can't have you see anything less than lovely of me, and maybe, just maybe, I'll have your acceptance and you'll think I'm worth something.  It goes against all that is rational for me to acknowledge that while we were less than lovely - dead in our sins and lost - that Christ died for us (Romans 5:7-8). What love is this, that we are worth everything without having to be anything. I don't get that. I don't get why God would love the world in this way. I don't get why He would love me in this way. 

But in the moments when I do get it, my worship deepens. Insecurities are shed. Faith is strengthened, and hope abides. 

For awhile I stopped writing on my blog because I was entrenched in academic writing - the kind that makes me feel less and less intelligent the more I get into it.  Then there's the excuse that I've been running (literally) training for my first half marathon in 3 years. This has taken more out of me than I remember in the past, or perhaps it's the same as a mother forgetting the pains of childbirth that I return to it. 

There are times when I feel I have nothing more in the tank and the last thing I want to be reminded of is something I'm not doing. And while my blog is rather low stakes as far as things I must do, I still feel a sense of guilt. 

I'm going to stop and hit "publish" before I make another excuse. 

I am less loving than I seem. I know this because of the lengthy inner dialogue and wrestling I undergo to love people around me. 

"It's easier to survive this life on the surface, brushing up against people gently, rather than doing the mess of intentionally loving them." - Jennie Allen, Restless

This is so me. I can do without the mess. I would rather be around people who don't require as much effort, yet I seem to cross paths regularly with those who require more. It seems almost humorous when the respite I seek cannot be found even in my concerted attempts to avoid people - taking the short cut to the printer to avoid unnecessary conversation, slipping on earphones to signal my don't-talk-to-me public transportation mode, or avoiding all eye contact to escape human interaction. 

If Christ did not enter the mess of humanity I'd be dead in my sins. My pride has no grounding, as being loved  compels my love for others (2 Corinthians 5:14-15). 

This is my reminder to get messy. 

Last week the Supreme Court sanctioned gay marriage in all 50 states, inciting a flurry of celebration from its proponents. While I anticipated the majority nationwide approval, the decision was also warmly received from many in the Christian community, which was the more surprising response.  The churches of Pergamum and Thyatira received a strong rebuke for their tolerance of sexual immorality (Revelation 2:12-24). To those who remained firm in faith, the exhortation was to "hold fast what you have until I come." (v.24)

With much grace, the church of Jesus will persevere.

There are many thoughtful resources that hold to biblical authority that I encourage all Christians to investigate, including this well-written and highly readable book. 

A thoughtful plea to Christians embracing gay marriage can be read here. 

The transgender debate has surfaced a new tolerance for the blurring of gender distinctions in our society (which, oddly enough, flies in the face of liberal ideology by embracing embodied gender roles - for a thoughtful discussion, read this article). With more Americans embracing gender as a fluid construct, can the same be said of race? The now former Spokane AACP leader Rachel Dolezal proved that falsely claiming another racial identity is not something most Americans approve. Certainly, like gender, social constructs of inferiority and superiority come into play, but race has proved different. This week's tragic Charleston deaths, intended by the shooter as the start of a "race war," further demonstrated that race is still a highly charged issue in our society today. The Bible acknowledges that race is not a negligible point. Race matters. God set aside a people for himself in the nation of Israel and asked that they be set apart from other peoples. Yet God used non-Israelites for His purposes like Ruth the Moabite. Jesus crossed racial and societal barriers to reach out to the Samaritan woman. The Apostle Paul understood what it meant to be all things to all people. In the end, race is so significant that every nation, tongue, and tribe will be represented at the throne. "After this I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” (Revelation 7:10-11). 

It is at this point that what will matter most is not race, but the collective affirmation of the Lamb in a beautiful display of Christ as Savior of the world.