Author: kdstinnett

children, family, love, Thanksgiving, Uncategorized

I am thankful

kdstinnett

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This picture makes me happy. And thankful. It doesn’t reveal much but it represents just shy of 191 years of life. Our lives. Four generations still living and laughing and loving and venturing out on a beautiful day to have our photographs taken. Photographs that will hang on our walls or lie close at hand in albums (yes some of us still have those), reminding us how blessed we are.

I wonder if I’ve done enough (says every mother on the planet) as a daughter, a mom, a grandmother. Am I passing on the important things? The funny stories? The wisdom gleaned from familial struggles overcome? Am I taking the time to make lasting memories? Am I looking in their faces and making my own indelible memories of lines and details and expressions of who they are, these loves of mine?

We’ve argued and angered and disappointed and forgiven. We’ve screamed (well, only two of us) and cried and laughed and given grace. We’ve ignored and listened and worried and prayed. We’ve prayed a lot. We’ve frustrated and helped and hoped and healed. Mostly we’ve loved. And I am thankful.

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We weren’t the only ones at this lovely park. Countless teenagers dressed to the nines were there having their photographs taken as well, homecoming pictures or something of the sort. Little do they know the moments that seem so important at that age are seldom truly memorable. Our movement among them was slow, Mom taking her time and resting when needed, perhaps provoking a few questioning looks as we waited in line behind the teens for the choice spots. How could they possibly know the meaning of the four of us together?

When do you learn the meaning of this kind of love? When you hold that newborn? When you look into the eyes of that grandbaby? When you beg time to slow down as your little one grows too fast for your liking? When your grown child falls into your arms, bruised and broken? When you sit with your arm underneath your mom so the hospital bed will be tolerable? When you linger around the table, tears streaming from laughter, unable to imagine life without them?

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It won’t always be like this. There won’t always be the four of us together on this earth. But there will always be this love. And I am thankful.

 

“I am thankful” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Photographs by Andie Campbell and cannot be used without permission.

 

Bible, Christian, church, coffee, Encouragement, Faith, God, Jesus, peace, praise, prayer, retreat, Spiritual, Uncategorized, worship

Even the high places have rocks

kdstinnett

Arkansas-12

There are times getting away is an absolute necessity. The weariness of months of almost non-stop activity became unbearable when the hurricane blew into my life. It left me empty and broken and hurting, precariously hanging by the proverbial thread. So in the middle of duties undone and responsibilities unfulfilled, I took time off. I have family in the foothills, so in my need of deep soul healing and rest I made arrangements for a visit. And while there I went to a high place to meet with God.

Compared to living in an area that isn’t that much higher than sea level, just about any place you go is a high place. The high places of the bible, however, were not necessarily defined by elevation. They were places designated for worship, for meeting with God. Jesus changed that by giving us His Spirit to dwell within, but there’s still something to be said for finding a way to meet with God in your own high place. A place where intentional worship will occur. Worship that is free to be messy and frustrated and tearful and even angry if that’s what needs to be dealt with. I believe the greatest worship we offer God is our attention, acknowledging He is, fearlessly coming to Him with no pretense that we are anything but who we are in that moment.

I found a place beside still waters where I set up “camp” – my folding chair, my blanket, my bible and journal, and of course, my coffee. I had determined to stay until I heard God. It was a perfect day with cool temps, a bright blue sky, low mountains in the distance. I sat for a while just taking it all in. The beauty of nature has always moved me and this day was no different. Combine that with the events that preceded this escape and the tears flowed readily. I knew it shouldn’t and couldn’t be rushed, this seeking of answers from God.

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I’d opened my bible to Isaiah without a lot of forethought, flipped through the pages and stopped at the first thing I saw highlighted – “but those who wait for the Lord…” (40:31). I wasn’t even giving it much thought when I looked up and saw three bald eagles effortlessly moving above. If you are not familiar with the rest of that verse, it speaks of renewing your strength and soaring as eagles. God’s good that way, you know?

I knew this time wasn’t going to be one of lengthy bible passages or deep, wordy prayers, but rather just “being still and knowing”. I got up to walk along the edge of the water, exploring the view surrounding me. Now, if you’ve ever been in a mountainous area you know you there are rocks. Lots of rocks. To walk along a shoreline every step must be strategic lest you want to face plant on the stones or take a tumble into the waters. Honestly, I’d rather walk on pristine white sand with clear blue water washing in waves over my feet, mindlessly moving along, not having to measure every step. It’s hard to walk on rocks.

We have a tendency to think that if we’re obedient, if we’re following where God leads, if we keep our hearts right and strive to learn and grow, the walk will become smoother, easier. And it does. But there will always be rocks. There will always be people He brings into our lives that grate on our nerves. There will be responsibilities that He calls us to that are difficult and frustrating. There will be challenges as He moves us into the uncomfortable. There will be pressures demanding action and questions He seems to be slow to answer. There will be rocks.

I returned to my chair, picked up my bible, and begin to skim the next few verses. One phrase was repeated several times and caught my attention “…I will help you…”  I’ve had some wonderful times with God in the past when many words were exchanged and I was led to intense study. This was not one of those times. The four words of that phrase brought me more peace than I’d experienced in months. There were details I still wanted Him to speak to, situations for which I still needed His counsel, wounds that needed to be healed. But this day it was enough to know He would help me. This day was to worship amid the rocks in the high place.

 

“Even the high places have rocks” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

 

 

 

 

Bible, Christian, death, Faith, God, gospel, grace, grief, Jesus, loss, sorrow, Spiritual, Uncategorized, worship

Led to brokenness

kdstinnett

broken pottery*Kintsugi

Brokenness. No one wants to be there. We run from it. We try to protect ourselves. We try to hide. We often avoid those who are there, not knowing what to say or do. Human suffering is hard to see, hard to enter into with another, hard to bear. But sooner or later we are there ourselves, like it or not.

There is quite literally brokenness all around me right now – the piles of debris are slowly being removed, and what is left remains broken and empty. Lives have been turned upside down and there are no answers as to where the displaced can go, where will they work, how will they pay for their losses. Thousands of lives in limbo and I feel helpless to affect. My contributions seem but a drop in an endless sea of anguish and I am fighting the paralysis that inevitably settles in after intense crisis efforts have passed and the day-to-day tries to resume. I am at a loss as to what to do next. And I am not alone.

My frustration increases daily in this state of doing little, yet I find that I busy myself more with the mundane rather than get seriously alone with God. I know I need to. I know that is where I will find the answers I need. It is in His presence I will find joy and peace and rest. So what’s the hesitation? I know He will lead me to brokenness. I can go there voluntarily or continue an attempt to resist. But I will go there.

There is much to learn about Jehovah-Rohi, the Lord Who heals, when life leaves us wounded and broken. Psalm 147:3 assures us “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” and He calls us to Himself for exactly that. But what about those times He takes us into brokenness? We don’t hear much about that.

There is a surrender required in order to be filled. I cry out for more of Him – more understanding, more intimacy, more revelation – but room must be made for this more that I want. My will involved in any level of “self-preservation” must be broken if He is to be what others see in me. It’s not a new thing, just ask Jacob or Moses or Jonah or Peter. Or Jesus. He made it very plain –

For whoever wishes to save his life [in this world] will [eventually] lose it [through death], but whoever loses his life [in this world] for My sake will find it [that is, life with Me for all eternity]. Matthew 16:25 (AMP)

My opinions, my emotions, my desires, and even my own heartache, all must be laid down before Him in an act of obedient surrender. Dying to self. Not allowing self to dictate the steps of my life, but rather yielding to the brokenness that will cause my every natural impulse to become secondary to His. His Spirit within me longs for this brokenness to take place because He desperately wants me to experience Him at a new level. So I will yield. I will be broken. And I will be changed, reminded once again that it’s going to be worth it all.

*Translated to “golden joinery,” Kintsugi (or Kintsukuroi, which means “golden repair”) is the centuries-old Japanese art of fixing broken pottery with a special lacquer dusted with powdered gold, silver, or platinum. Beautiful seams of gold glint in the cracks of ceramic ware, giving a unique appearance to the piece. Since its conception, Kintsugi has been heavily influenced by prevalent philosophical ideas. Namely, the practice is related to the Japanese philosophy of wabi-sabi, which calls for seeing beauty in the flawed or imperfect. The repair method was also born from the Japanese feeling of mottainai, which expresses regret when something is wasted, as well as mushin, the acceptance of change.

Kintsugi kinda sounds like Jesus.

“Led to brokenness” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

*Photograph & text taken from http://mymodernmet.com/kintsugi-kintsukuroi/

Christian, church, God, grief, Jesus, loss, love, sorrow, Spiritual, tears, trials, Uncategorized

Among the losses

kdstinnett

loss

Yesterday I didn’t cry. I think it’s the first day since the hurricane I haven’t. There was no water in my home and my possessions are not heaped at the curb. I didn’t spend hours or days trying to find my mom or my siblings or my children, I knew where they were and they were safe. I didn’t even lose electricity or cell service or cable. But I endured the storm with some who did and I am heartbroken.

As they entered our doors you could see it in their faces. They were scared and angry and frustrated and in shock. They were wet and cold and hungry and lost. They were transported to a place they had never been, a town they had never even heard of, to stay with strangers they were not sure they could trust. Most came with nothing but the clothes on their backs, a few with small bags, many with children in tow and families with newborns. Yes, newborns. A few were sick, really sick with kidney failure and cancer and heart disease, their bodies rescued from the waters but not their necessary medications.

We offered what we could, a hot meal, dry clothes, pillows and blankets, a safe place to stay, and what felt to me like seriously inadequate emotional support given their circumstances. Ill-equipped as we were, we settled them into every room, nook, and cranny of our buildings, trying to make them as comfortable as possible on the cold, hard floors. We packed them in like sardines and hoped they could rest and prayed they could sleep. Some did. Some did not.

We stayed up with one man who literally paced the hall throughout the entire night, agonizing over the helplessness he felt as he couldn’t find his nine-year old son. I held the newly widowed woman as she sobbed in my arms, her recent loss intensified by the loneliness of a shelter full of strangers and the uncertainty of a future without her husband and the home they’d shared. I watched a beautiful young woman crumple to the floor as she received the news that loved ones were lost. I stood on the sidewalk in the early morning hours with a precious mom, her tears mixing with the rain as she poured out her heart, struggling to find the strength to overcome the loss of everything. Again.

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Among the losses in this storm was also any notion I may have held onto that the heart of the gospel can be neatly organized from my nicely decorated office, that it can be scripted and planned and comfortable and easily implemented on my terms.

I’ve visited shelters (as it fit in my schedule) and I’ve ministered to the poor (when it was convenient) and I’ve taught the classes (from my nice, clean classrooms) and I’ve fed the hungry (when I had the $ with me that I could easily hand to the homeless person on the corner as I went on my way). My desire has been to make an impact on the world around me with the message of God’s love through these efforts, and I will continue to seek these very same opportunities.

But I have never experienced anything like this. It has irreversibly affected me. I will never be the same. I don’t want to be the same. I want to be different. I want to allow these flood waters to wash me beyond my comfortable ideas of ministry into really understanding that the hands and feet of Jesus got dirty. He touched those considered untouchable. He loved those viewed as unworthy. He walked and talked with those who were royally messed up. He changed their lives and He did it outside the walls of the tabernacle.

We are moved by the compassion of a community who showed up in the midst of the storm. Literally. Through the wind and rain they brought food and water and clothes and bedding and personal items and kennels and air mattresses and a shower trailer. And port-a-potties (yay!). They brought trucks, BIG trucks, and boats, LOTS of boats. Our first responders brought the professional medical help needed for the sick and the organization needed to send volunteers out to find those still stranded and bring them to safety. The community together brought hope and help and rescue. They brought Jesus to the hurting and the helpless.

This good news of Jesus Christ is a completely inconvenient gospel. If we truly desire to see people find Jesus, He will take us into the unpredictable where our religious platitudes will be meaningless, where our hands will get dirty, where our hearts will be broken, where we will work to exhaustion and then work some more, where we will be pressed to give grace, grace, and more grace, and where we will experience the depth of His love for humanity in a way that doesn’t feel particularly spiritual in the moment, yet is profound.

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I am still grieving for those who came to us, who experienced losses I cannot imagine. I will never forget their faces. I don’t want to. And I am grieving for those who are afraid to go beyond the security of the church doors to be Jesus to their world. I pray we will dare to be awkward and uncomfortable in the spontaneous opportunities presented to us that beg a response. I pray we’ll trust Him as He leads us into the unknown in the inconvenient and often messy business of living as His hands and His feet and taking Him to a desperate world.

 

“Among the losses” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Photographs by Kay Stinnett and cannot be used without permission.

Christian, Faith, family, friends, grief, Jesus, loss, love, mothers, sorrow, Uncategorized

Mother’s Day – look both ways before crossing

kdstinnett

mom and kids crossing street.jpg.838x0_q67_crop-smartThis road is a busy one, traveled by the thankful, the frustrated, the exhausted, the overwhelmed, the happy, the sad, and the everything-in-between. Sometimes we march with determined steps and fixed gaze, confident and sure of where we are headed. Sometimes we watch and follow those with determined steps, completely unsure of where this road will lead. Sometimes we dance and sing and play along the way as if the journey is all that matters, the destination insignificant. Sometimes we just stop in the middle of the road and cry.

There are many who’ve walked before us, those who’ve completed the journey and others we can still see in the distance. If we are blessed, we have those who’ve already walked this road yet have turned back to walk it again by our sides, cheering us on, sharing their stories and giving us hope that we, too, will make it.

Some of us are on the sidelines, hopeful, waiting, resigned. We’ve been there a long time and seen many walk by. To stand still watching feels as if this is the only road worth traveling, all others meaningless and empty. Many speak as they pass, giving encouraging words and heartfelt prayers. Sometimes they stop and hold us while we cry. But they’re on the road and must move forward and they leave us feeling lonelier than ever.

Many have walked this road only to find our travel plans abruptly and heartbreakingly halted. We desperately wanted to complete this journey but now there’s no focus. We find ourselves paralyzed, unable to move. Walking alongside the others is painful and awkward. We don’t return to the sidelines. We just stop. We belong on the road…but now we only look back at the footbrints we left behind…

Before we cross this road or remain on the sidelines or move forward or stand still, let’s look both ways, or better yet, all around. Let’s take ourselves out of holiday mode and just stay in Jesus mode. Let’s share the love and the joys and the pains and the heartbreaks of just being human because for many this is a hard day.

Rejoice with those who rejoice, sharing their joy; mourn with those who mourn, sharing their sorrow. Romans 12:15

Bear one another’s burdens and troublesome moral faults and in this way fulfill and observe perfectly the law of Christ… Galatians 6:2

Nothing wrong with taking a gift or a card and spending time with your mother this Sunday. But do we really need a holiday to do that? Did you know that the woman who created Mother’s Day later denounced the holiday’s commercialization and spent the latter part of her life trying to get it off the calendar?? Yeah. That.

“Mother’s Day – look both ways before crossing” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Christian, gospel, grace, Jesus, Spiritual, Uncategorized

The Gospel – it’s not about me

kdstinnett

not_about_me

I’ve spent a bit of time lately being reflective. Not in the way I did in the past when scrutiny only brought guilt and shame, but rather just an honest look at where I am, what I’m doing, where I’m going, and what is motivating me. If you’ve read many of my posts, infrequent as they may be lately, you’ve seen that I seem to circle the same wagon, making the same point again and again. Today is not much different because I just can’t get away from the fact that this enormous gift of grace, the gospel, the good news we’ve been offered came with the simplest of instructions on how to live it out. Yet this simple message seems to get lost in our focus on the magnificence of the gift we’ve received.

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I need to put my thoughts and feelings into words in order to process the information and keep myself on track. I tend to get tunnel vision. I get focused on something I’m doing, where I’m going, etc., and can easily lose sight of all else. Many years ago I heard a man say that God gave him a word and he made it a sentence and ended up in a different place/or with different plans than God had intended. I can easily take a word from God and make it a 5 or 10 year plan, completely forgetting that my faith walk is to be step-by-step with Him!

This morning as I began the difficult task of waking enough to be functional, I turned the TV to a Christian channel. The program airing was not one I watch regularly but I quickly became interested in where the message from this world renowned preacher was going. Millions will have heard his message by the time I post this and I wonder what they will do with these words that were spoken: “Your number one priority is your happiness.”

Now I’m pulling one line from an entire message which was about not allowing others to manipulate you, being aware when it’s time to stop enabling/rescuing others, etc., which was very good information. However, the words above were in essence wrapping up the message, bringing it to his point. And those words tickled my ears. For a split second everything in my flesh wanted to shout “AMEN!” But I know better.

I went out for my run with those words stuck in my head. I was so focused on my thoughts about them that I looked up after a few minutes and didn’t know where I was. I had intended to go on one of my regular routes through the neighborhood but had inadvertently gone a different way. And being directionally challenged this was cause for concern. (I do possess a phone with gps capabilities, however I choose to run without it because I do not want any distractions…lol) I quickly realized that I was not lost but simply on another familiar path so I returned to my processing of the message I’d heard. Turning my thoughts to my own life, it was easy to see how often I’ve gotten spiritually distracted and tried to make the gospel about me.

The truth is that the gospel – the good news of Jesus Christ – that delivers and heals and saves and empowers and frees is not about me. It is for me. Jesus came for me, He bore the sins of all for me (and you), He sent the Helper for me. But the good news was never about me – it was about Him. It has always been about Him. He IS the good news. When I try to take this gift of grace and make it about me, I twist His intent. He didn’t set me free to chase my own dreams. He didn’t deliver me so that I could be more self-aware. He didn’t empower me so that I could be anything I want to be. He did it all so that I could be who and what He designed me to be.

The gospel – the good news of Jesus Christ – is the gracious gift of God for all who will accept, but Jesus said that to truly receive and experience this magnificent gift one must deny self – completely surrender to His will, His way, His pleasure, His desire. Yet somehow we’ve taken the sacrifice and made the gift about us and our own happiness. We sing His praises and proclaim that we have a good, good Father, but we so often do not trust Him with His plans for our lives. It is only in this denial of self that we will find the true fullness of the good news of Jesus.

“For whoever wishes to save his life in this world will eventually lose it through death, but whoever loses his life in this world for My sake and the gospel’s will save it…”  Mark 8:35

“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” Luke 9:23

It is a challenging balance to maintain – to receive all the wonders of grace and find our identity in Him yet stay focused on Him, not ourselves. To live in the many blessings He pours out over us and yet be willing to hold them loosely, becoming only stewards of what belongs to Him. To exist in our human form and yet live consumed by His mighty presence within.

The gospel – the good news of Jesus Christ – when embraced, changes the perspective of our lives. He has taken a story that is full of the everyday stuff, drama, comedy, satire, mystery, and even a little romance (for this not-so-mushy kind of girl) and given it all meaning and purpose. As He’s revealed Himself in my past, shows Himself in the here and now, and gives me vision to see His hand on my future, I grow to know and trust and love Him more and more. The script of my life has humbled and honored and delighted and even scared me at times, yet I am more confident than ever that the chapters still to come will be rich and full because as long as I will allow, this story will be much more about Him rather than me.  And it will be a very good story because He is good.

“The Gospel – it’s not about me” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

 

Christian, church, confession, friends, God, grace, prayer, retreat, Uncategorized

A public apology

kdstinnett

confession

You know those times that you mess up and you just can’t seem to let it go? You confess, you know that God has heard you, you’ve apologized to the one you’ve wronged yet you just can’t let it go…

I was one of the speakers at an in-house ladies retreat at my church this weekend. It was a wonderful spa-themed event and I was excited about the portions of the Psalms I would share with the ones who had taken time out of their busy lives to come and listen. The passages and topics of the morning had been very meaningful to me and I was under no impression that what I would share was any more or less important than these.

I was up after lunch and hopeful that I could say what I had on my heart before the after-lunch-sleepies set in and I would begin to sound like Charlie Brown’s teacher… wawawawawa… Time always goes quickly when I speak and before I knew it, I had committed the #1 sin of conference speaking – I had overrun my time and left virtually nothing for the speaker following me who was to close out the event. Sigh.

Normally I have a designated person within direct eye contact range who is given the assignment of helping me end on time, someone who will hold up a written 10 minute warning or give the universal shut-up symbol of a knife being drawn across the neck. I neglected to acquire such assistance today. It was my understanding that yes, we were running a little behind schedule, but we would be extending the end time by a few minutes to wrap it up. I was wrong. No excuses, I should have confirmed. I should have been more considerate. I should have…shut up. Sigh again.

I did apologize to my fellow presenter, twice. I prayed as I left and again as I ran my afternoon errands, and more when I got home but I couldn’t shake that yuck feeling. So as I was winding down my activities this evening and finally got still it occurred to me what was left undone – I needed to apologize to all the ladies who attended the retreat. Not only had I taken from this speaker the time and prayer she had invested in being God’s voice today, but I had caused others to miss something God wanted to say to them. I owe them that.

One of my topics today was the prayer of confession and more than a few times God has required of me that mine be made more openly known than just in my quiet corner with Him. He’s like that sometimes.

So, ladies, I hope this finds its way to you because I am truly sorry. Please share this with those who are not on social media or the internet or who may have been visitors to our event. To the ladies ministry team: should you ever dare to invite me to be a part of this event in the future, please give me the last time slot – following her.

Oh, and did I mention the speaker following me was my pastor’s wife? Yeah, let that sink in…  

 

“A public apology” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Uncategorized

And she is fiercely fragile

kdstinnett

fragile

She’s a wisp of a little thing, the kind of child that catches your eye. She’s often quiet and reserved and seems to ration her smiles to be given only to those who can reach within and draw them out, which is no easy task. She is confident and opinionated and smart and when her mind is set she is as an impenetrable wall protecting her stance. She is fierce and many times a force to be reckoned with, the kind of child that one can find intimidating. I am still finding my way with her.

She seems to live as though every boundary must be thoroughly and repeatedly tested, giving the impression that she is belligerent just because. I suspect she believes herself to already be more intelligent than the most of us who are feebly trying to lead her. Perhaps she is right. She has this innate ability to push your buttons as she locks those steely blues on you and counters your every move. She is as tenacious as she is persistent and certain she can outlast any energy you expend in an effort to oppose her.

She’s had a lot placed on those tiny shoulders lately, more than any child should have to carry, and it is taking its toll. As I was teaching this week I saw it wash over her as if she couldn’t hold it off any longer – defeat. My heart ached for her but she wouldn’t let me in. She is struggling with emotions for which there are no easy expressions, pain she cannot stop, and the frustrations of one who is too young to understand what shakes her soul. As fierce as she is, she is fragile.

She is like delicate, fine china, exquisite in appearance and requiring great tenderness and care – something that is easy to miss in one so fierce. Once noticed, this vulnerable fragility makes you want to take her and keep her hidden from the world and all that would threaten to chip and break this frail heart. Resistant to being protected, she doesn’t want to be hidden, just helped, especially when she doesn’t make it easy.

I’ve always viewed her fierceness as her strength and her fragility as something to be changed. Today she showed me that I have it all wrong – it is her fragility that is her greatest strength. I watched her move with no hesitation, no fear, and no awkwardness among strangers who were weak and frail, tenderly looking them in the eyes and offering them simple, pure love. Precious, unspoken understanding of what it’s like to be fragile was the very thing she had to offer. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen.

I was humbled and reminded how desperately I need God to help me see what He sees. For I’m not a delicate, fine china kind of person. I’m more the every day dinnerware that can take the bumps and chips and scratches and drops without shattering. The kind of person that has viewed fragility as weakness in others when, in fact, it can be a wonderful strength.

I saw my little friend again this afternoon and she rushed to give me a hug and a smile. Her world was made right, even if just for a while, by the giving of herself to those who she knew just need to be loved. Another lesson for today.

 

“And she is fiercely fragile” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com 

 

 

 

Uncategorized

Taking the bait

kdstinnett

mousetrap

It was a simple little comment, not intended to offend, but not well thought-out either. A simple comment about my appearance as I was about to stand to speak. Grrrrr. My first thoughts were not nice and my snarky tongue wanted free rein. While I controlled the words I did not hold back the “look” knowing full well that the eyes are the window to the soul. Sigh. I fell for it. I took the bait.

I’m not usually easily offended but this particular day I was tired and the comment caught me off guard. Add to that the fact that a co-worker recently told me he has also seen my “death stare” and it’s time for me to pay attention. I don’t like to think I can be come so easily ensnared but isn’t that the mindset that allows that very thing?

We live in a time when being offended is the norm. It’s open, in-your-face, how-dare-you attitudes displayed for all the world to see over just about everything. Sheesh. I am weary of the news and social media, yet find myself struggling with the same temptation. So what’s the harm in being offended?

The word offense comes from the Greek word skandalon, meaning the trigger of a trap (the mechanism closing a trap down on the unsuspecting victim); (figuratively) an offense, putting a negative cause-and-effect relationship into motion.*

It’s a trap, people!! There is no positive effect in being offended. It breeds negativity and anger, harsh words and resentment, and places the responsibility of resolution on others rather than ourselves. Once given its way, offense ensnares. Oh, we may think we’ve gotten away with our feeling of self-importance as we’ve condemned another for their words or actions, but little do we realize we remain trapped. We become a people constantly reacting to the opinions and actions of others rather than acting on the commands of Christ.

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A brother offended is more unyielding than a strong city, and quarreling is like the bars of a castle. Proverbs 18:19

Good sense makes one slow to anger, and it is his glory to overlook an offense. Proverbs 19:11

Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger… James 1:19

When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly. 1 Peter 2:23

When did we become a people devoid of understanding the difference between disagreement and offense? When did we decide the technology available at our fingertips is our platform to proclaim how right (and superior) we are and how wrong another most certainly is? When did our allegiance to a nation, a flag, an anthem become greater than our allegiance to follow Christ – to do life His way – treating others as if they were more important than ourselves? When did love become something we give only to those with whom we agree?

The injustices and imbalances are real. The issues and debates are endless. Take part. Take a stand, discuss, disagree, listen – really listen – before responding. Vote, protest (yes, I said protest!), take advantage of the freedoms we have that allow us to do those very things and to disagree. Loose yourself from the trap of being offended and be determined to avoid it at all costs! Don’t lose sight of what we are about – to show the love of God to ALL the world, perhaps especially to those with whom we disagree.

Let all that you do be done in love. 1 Corinthians 16:14

*Strong’s Concordance

“Taking the bait” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Second image taken from http://www.dreamstime.com

 

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Staying on point

kdstinnett

 

hang onI’ve dipped my toes into the insurance world once again. After several years out of the industry I have accepted a position to teach a licensing prep course and it feels good. I love the classroom and watching the lightbulbs turn on as information is absorbed and understanding comes. I had a wonderful career in this industry and there is joy for me in encouraging those making career changes by sharing my experiences.

Yesterday we touched on a topic of the studies that got me sidetracked. Insurance is a product that is regulated by both state and federal entities and as we discussed the programs offered through the government, conversation turned to the abuses that occur in said programs and it spiraled from there. I can be very passionate about what I believe and while I seldom enter into discussions about the government or politics, there are realities that cannot be ignored.

I believe in the intent of the programs we have – to help people in need. The elderly, the poor, those in need of medical care. I simply do not believe that government programs were supposed to be Plan A. As idealistic as it may sound, I believe we were created to help each other, not look to the government to take care of our brothers and sisters on this earth. Yet I am not ignorant of the frailties of the human will or the strength of the love of self. Herein lies the problem.

So my classroom became my pulpit for a few minutes. And while I very passionately expressed my feelings and opinions on these matters, it had absolutely nothing to do with what the students needed to know in order to pass the upcoming exam. I got off point. Thankfully no one seemed too disturbed by my short spiritual lecture and I was able to refocus on the actual facts needing to be addressed and move on.

As is my habit whenever I speak to a group of people, my drive home involves the mental replay of how the event went. Yesterday was no different and I chided myself for allowing my personal opinions and emotions to interrupt the fulfilling of my professional responsibilities. And as I did this mental replay it occurred to me that we so often do this as Christians – get off point.

The things that distract us from the point can be matters that stir our passions at depths we cannot fully express. We see the causes, feel the pains, grieve over the losses, protest the injustices and these actions can become so consuming that we begin to believe they are the point. We get off-task. The needs are real and emotions drive our responses. We are afraid so we lash out. We are angry so we blame. We feel helpless to affect so we give up. And while the causes are all very worthy of our attention, we have gotten off point in how we respond.

What is the mission to which we said we surrendered as Jesus-followers? To love. That is how it will be known that He exists and that we are His. If I speak (or post on social media…) of, or more importantly to, a group of people who I believe are in error in their ways and actions, yet my words show no love for those very same people, I am but a clanging cymbal, accomplishing the very opposite of what I was called to do. I bring harm to the cause of Christ which is Plan A: His will, His way.

The questions we must ask ourselves daily (maybe hourly) are “Am I on point? Whatever I have to do, am I doing it His way, not mine? Am I showing His love in everything I do?” For that is the mission.

I feel like a broken record lately, but I can’t get away from this message. I grieve for the hurting and the injustices in this world, but I grieve also for His body who is so often distracted that we are missing the point. Maybe no one near seems to be too disturbed by our passionate discourses and may even vehemently agree. But I pray we re-focus and stay on point. It is then He can use us to change our world. And that’s the Jesus Plan A.

“Staying on point” was written by Kay Stinnett and first appeared on http://www.ourpassionatepurpose.com

Image from www.artique.com