Singing While Sleeping

By: Justine Johnson

Singing while sleeping. This phrase popped into my head as I was walking down the dirt road that runs through the ranch camp I am working at this summer. The poetic flow of alliteration soothes the soul and indicates a fantastic dream, if nothing else. But it is so much more than pretty words and uncontrolled off-key melodies. There is a lack of human control which can only point to the complexity of a God-breathed brain.

The difference between songs composed during the day and those that are written while we are sleeping is that there is a different author. In the proverbial daylight of each person’s existence, the pen is snatched from its rightful place and is claimed by those who are inexperienced in their harmonies or unoriginal in their rhythms.  If the composition begins after the metaphorical sun disappears around the horizon, the Writer of every great symphony gently wraps His fingers around the pen to begin the perfect process.

A decision to be made presents the time for a lyric to be composed. I have attempted to create my own songs during my waking hours far too many times in my life. When I am awake, I tend to claim supposed “control” over the pen that should be held by a Hand much steadier than mine. In reality, my Jesus is simply waiting for my sun to set so that He can reclaim His rightful place as the Author of my life.

So what?

Jesus Christ does not sleep, nor does He depend on earthly time for His works. He does, however, speak life into our hopes and dreams when we hand Him the pen that belonged to Him all along. As difficult as it can be for a writer to relinquish their treasured utensil, the only way to build a proper love relationship with Jesus is to allow Him creative freedom. After all, He created that too.

The day is yours, and yours also the night; you established the sun and moon.~Psalm 74:16

Greasy Water

A dishwasher’s nightmare.

By: Justine Johnson

My family has never had a dishwasher installed in our house. Well, actually my Dad loves to quip that we have three dishwashers named Justine, Michael, and Natalie. (We are not amused.) Consequently, my siblings and I have been living up to our name for over ten years.

My least favorite part of doing the dishes has always been the pots and pans containing the remnants of cooked hamburger. These greasy specimens still create a deep dread in my belly. I nearly always forget to wash these last, so I end up transforming the once-sudsy hot water into brown, tepid liquid. These situations are guaranteed to end with me draining the sink to rid it of the filthy water in order to finish the dishes. Grease doesn’t dissolve, folks.

Often I catch myself living as if my sins were washed away with greasy water. I dwell on the leftover hamburger in my life and resign myself to air drying while being stacked upon dozens of plates, cups, and plastic containers—just like my Mom’s massive non-stick skillet. I’m simply one more dish in the pile that will probably have to be rewashed the next morning when Mom discovers that one of us didn’t scrub well enough.

We talk about being washed in the blood of the Lamb. Why are we acting as if our cleansing was done with lukewarm dishwater?

It is easy for me to forget that God only had to do the dishes once. His Hands were gentle—He certainly didn’t use gloves to protect Himself. He used a scrunchy to remove any tough spots, but He knew exactly when to switch to a dishcloth to softly purge the fragile parts. Not only that, but He hand-dried each one of us and placed us in the cupboard where He could use us when our purpose arrived. The King of all kings stepped off of His throne to become the ultimate servant; no grease spot called sin could keep Him from doing the job well.

We talk about being washed in the blood of the Lamb. Why are we acting as if our cleansing was done with lukewarm dishwater? I’m pretty sure God is a better housekeeper than that. If our trust is in Jesus Christ, then His grace has given our china surfaces a new polish that will never wear or crack.

No more greasy water. We are clean and ready to be placed at the Master’s unimaginably wonderful feast.

The Problem of Forward Thinking and Pinterest

By: Abbie Goldschmid

This image probably shows up in your browser history quite often.

Too much forward thinking quickly turns into obsession.

Ahh, Pinterest. It’s where I go when I’m bored, stressed, happy, feeling crafty, or just in need of a good mental vacation for five minutes (that’s Pinterest minutes, so that really means an hour and a half).

When I first started my Pinterest account, I immediately started the “Wedding Board.” Granted, I didn’t even have a boyfriend at the time of my first pins. I was just “planning ahead;” making sure I was all ready for whatever the future might bring.

Even with all of my preparation, I still had to create an entirely new Pinterest board entitled “More-realistic-for-my-real-wedding” (that’s really what it’s called, go follow me) after I got engaged. My plans weren’t exactly fitting two years later. Bummer.

The thing about Pinterest is it feeds this innate desire in every human being to plan and know the future. We think we can look at a few pictures, pin them to a board, and one day our life will look that way.

“Oh, but I’m just getting inspiration!” “It’s just pinteresting. That’s all.” “Don’t judge me. You do it too.”

Sorry you had to listen to those inner protests of my brain, but maybe they were close to what you were saying to me. Pinterest is great, and believe me, I’m not saying “go delete your account” (I’m sure not deleting mine anytime soon. I have a new apartment to decorate, for crying out loud!). My only point is that we need to keep in mind that “too much of a good thing quickly turns into a bad thing.” Too much forward thinking quickly turns into obsession.

I believe it’s only a matter of time before Pinterest turns every bride-to-be into a raging bridezilla because of the “affordable wedding favors” pins that will really cost you like 35 bucks a piece. It’s making our expectations as humans way too high. Sometimes I look around my house and sigh and wonder, “Why can’t my house look the way they do on Pinterest?” Oh, right. Because I’m a college student that makes enough for rent and food and nothing else, and art has always been my worst subject.

Don’t let things like daydreaming, Pinterest, or even Google images start influencing your expectations. It’s going to make life seem a lot more unfair than it already is. Give it a break; find a new hobby that will lower expectations. Go start a new Netflix show or something; those six seasons will keep you busy for a day or two.

Get With the Program, God

By: Abbie Goldschmid

I come here today to confess to you a dark secret. A secret I have tried years to work through, to pray through, and still so little seems to change. I still continue in my same old habits. Yes, it is a lifestyle that I cannot escape, so I tell you. I tell you in the hopes that by hearing my story, you might somehow be saved from my fate. I am a worrier. I have been called “Debbie Downer,” “worry wart,” and any number of other clever word combinations to describe my natural inclination to fear the future both distant and immediate. I hate it, so I start worrying about my worrying. Worrying that my worry is keeping from being close to God, my family, my friends. I worry that I will never be able to stop, and by worrying about stopping, I just keep worrying more. It’s a never ending cycle that I have attempted to understand. Why do I worry? Why do we worry?

College dorms are haunted by worries and fears. When you are a freshman: what will your major be? When you are a sophomore: is this the right major? Is it too late to change? When you are a junior it’s time to start thinking about what you want to do with that major, time to get serious about internships and jobs, and time to start thinking and worrying about new things. And when you are a senior? Well, that’s the worst. Now it’s time to worry about how you are going to live AND pay off your loans. What are you going to do? What if you can’t get a job? College is the worst place for someone like me, someone who can make a mountain sized deal out of a molehill sized problem.

My worry always seems to correlate with life not following my plans. It’s very frustrating. My plans always seem like really good ideas to me. Shoot.

We just plan, pray, and we don’t really stop to wait, to prepare, to see what God is going to do.

My older sister always said that the easiest way to make God laugh was to tell Him your plans. But I never tell God my plans; I just expect Him to shape His plans for my life to match mine. Everything is great in our relationship, so long as He doesn’t get anything wrong in the master plan. It’s not so much that I treat God like a vending machine, because I don’t really ask Him for anything. I just expect that my plans will be the reality. And that comes out in my prayers. When I don’t get what I think I want, the next time I pray I just expect God to “ruin” everything. He already screwed up my life so why not just throw everything else to hell. I get angry. I still pray because I know I should, but part of me believes it is a waste of my time. Then, when God gets back with the game plan, I still feel like it’s a waste of time to keep praying. Good, God is finally doing what He should have been doing all along. After all, my way is the best way, right? I must think pretty highly of myself to think that I can come up with a better plan for my life than an all-knowing Being.

It seems as ridiculous as it is when I say it out loud. I know that I should trust God, and I can expect blessings from Him. They just might not be the “blessings” I imagined. It’s obvious when we think hard about it, but somehow that knowledge gets lost amid papers and job hunts and student loans and relationships and heartbreak and college and life. We just plan, pray, and we don’t really stop to wait, to prepare, to see what God is going to do. We think we are expecting a lot from Him; we feel we have expected too much when He “fails” us. But really, we are just expecting Him to think like we do—which, in reality, really isn’t expecting a lot. I’m sure He looks down at us, smiles, and shakes His head in loving admonishment. By planning our lives according to what we envision, we have chosen to expect such little input from our Father.

Editor’s Note: Check out the first in Abbie’s series on Control Freaks http://cardboardmagazine.wordpress.com/2013/01/24/confessions-of-a-control-freak-dating/

Please Judge Me

By: Justine Johnson

“Hey, don’t judge me.”

Christian Memes has clearly been thinking about this topic as well.

It seems as if this phrase is dropped more often than a toddler’s scorned mashed pea bowl. But unlike the contents scattered all over the floor, however, such a defensive statement does indeed produce some food for thought.

That’s one of the top misquoted verses in the Bible. Don’t believe me? Grab a couple of commentaries on the book of Matthew and study chapter seven in its entirety. I’d love to compare notes afterwards. Until then, I want to focus on a command in this passage that I have been mulling over lately. Perhaps it will give you something to consider as well.

My brother Michael and I had a conversation about this topic a few days ago. Michael pointed out that Jesus was talking about His followers’ wrongful judgment of nonbelievers, not their judgment of anyone. “We have no right to judge nonbelievers because we have no accountability with them through the Holy Spirit. If they aren’t following Jesus, then they also aren’t being held to the same moral standards that we are as Christians.”

So what about judging each other? If we all claim to love the same perfect God and view His Word as holy and true, then it makes sense that we would be held to an identical code of behavior. Therefore, wouldn’t that mean that God is commanding us to judge our fellow believers by the fruits of our lives?

As harsh as that statement might seem, I think it is actually a blessing. I don’t know about you, but I would really like to have people calling me out when I am doing anything that does not line up with the Word of God. As long as it is done in love—and that is so crucial. As Michael said, “We are supposed to encourage each other and build each other up. Part of that process is constructive criticism.”

So please judge me. Perhaps I will be a better person someday because of it.

As I Lay Dying vocalist accused of hiring hit man. (Maybe the name wasn’t convincing enough?)

Not at all intimidating…right?

By: Justine Johnson

Tim Lambesis, the lead vocalist of As I Lay Dying, Pyrithion and Austrian Death Machine, was arrested on Tuesday for allegedly seeking a hit man’s help in murdering his estranged wife.

Regardless of whether or not you recognize the names of those bands, the shock factor still comes into play. I found out about it through Indie Vision Music, the Christian music site that I follow almost obsessively. The comment feed immediately exploded.

Some people simply said “Wow, so sad.” Others posted poorly-punctuated, judgmental rants about how Tim is in a Christian band and should be leading by example. About two-thirds of the responses reminded everyone that we need to be praying for Tim.

Out of all the words my brain filtered through, there was one comment that really stuck out to me the most. A reader named “JoeyLJ” posted:

We are all capable of doing horrible things, being the lead singer in a “Christian” band doesn’t change that.

Whether or not this is true, the one thing Tim needs right now is prayer and support, either that the evidence of his innocence will surface, or if he IS guilty, that he may seek redemption. His family is also in dire need of support, I can’t even imagine what they are thinking right now.

Christians mess up too, folks. Just because this guy is in a Christian band does not make him more likely to live a moral existence. Also, keep in mind that this accusation has not been proven as of yet and there is a chance that he is innocent. Until Tim is convicted of the crime, we should refrain from passing judgment.

Oh, and we should definitely be praying for this guy, his family and his band mates. They’ve got a long road ahead of them.

Normal Is Not Enough

By: Justine Johnson

“You’re a freak. No one would ever tell you that, but you know it’s the truth. Why can’t you just shut up and sit still?”

Welcome to my brain.

Ever since I was seven, I have had mild Tourette syndrome, which is a neurological disorder caused by abnormalities in certain brain regions, the circuits that interconnect those regions and the neurotransmitters responsible for communication between nerve cells. In other words, the nerves send messed-up signals to each other and make me do unusual things such as batting my eyes, grunting and twitching my hands suddenly.

Those things are typically called “tics.” I once heard them described as “itches that will keep bugging you until you scratch them just right.” Some people can keep from scratching for longer than others — I have taught my body to wait until I am alone to itch, and for the most part, I am successful. Basically, I’ve gotten really good at wearing a mask to “protect” myself.

There are times, however, when the tics take hold of my existence and physically shake me for about thirty seconds. I’ve come to label these “tic attacks.” In those moments where I have lost all control over what my body is doing, I feel like a raw, pulsing wound that is just waiting to be discovered by an unintentional nudge from a passing coat sleeve. It is in these agonizingly helpless times that I tell myself, “You can stop it. Just stop it.” But I can’t. And it’s terrifying.

“You’re a freak.”

I’ve always known the verse about being fearfully and wonderfully made, but believing it to the point of feeling free to tic in the presence of anyone and everyone has been a challenge. Surely people would judge me; surely I would no longer be looked at with the same acceptance as my friend with the mole on her chin or the guy with acne on his face. I often feel like a freak, to be completely honest. The paradoxical reality is that, in my mind, my tics are glaringly obvious to the world and they should be hidden, but I also want to show everyone because I want them to understand my struggle.

Sometimes I ask myself what it would be like to feel “normal” according to the world’s standards. Many of my friends here at college have a habit of saying that “Normal is overrated.” But really, how often do we unconsciously alter our behavior just to feel like we are fitting in with everyone else? We may say that it doesn’t matter to us, but let’s face it: we all want to be accepted by others. Even more thought-provoking for me is the question of whether or not I purposely alter my behavior to see what reaction I might get from someone else. That’s not normal—is it?

Further, what is “normal,” truly? I think we often base our definition of the regular upon what doesn’t make others uncomfortable; we are highly conscious of what might bring disapproving looks from our peers. Should we really be focused on maintaining this expectation? Is it even attainable?

When I was a senior in high school, I went to a youth conference called Acquire the Fire, and the theme was “Normal Is Not Enough.” For a day and a half, the speakers and music artists talked about the importance of leaving the ordinary to become extraordinary. I think this concept can be applied to more than our faith; it could also be useful when evaluating how we view ourselves. If we place the task of living an extraordinary life upon our own shoulders, we are setting the bar higher without the fetters of peer approval on our ankles.

Therefore, if we are to make our lives extraordinary, “normal” is not the first prize, by any means. In reality, every single one of us is unique and that uniqueness prevents us from being genuine and “normal” simultaneously.

I’ll never be “normal” according to society’s standards. If I were to strip away all of the supposed perceptions that I think other people have of me, I would look just like everyone else; I would look human. True, I will always feel “different,” but that needs to be okay with me. Besides, we are all different—from each other. I believe that God has a perfect plan for each one of us, and not despite the flaws. Because of them.

To everyone reading this who feels like they have to change something about themselves in order to fit in, stop for a moment. You are not alone, and you are not a freak. None of us are. To quote The Help, “You is kind, you is smart, you is important.”

Colleges are going further into debt. Students can relate.

On the one hand, I get it: You are a college student, you may have your own financial stresses to worry about (constantly) and it’s just so freaking hard to sympathize with an institution that requests $20,000 from you every semester in some combination of your hard-earned scholarships and your hard-earned bi-weekly income from working the desk at the student center.

On the other hand, this kind of stuff is actually important, so here, pay attention a little bit: Colleges are taking a massive hit in debt. So be assured that while you accrue large amounts of debt in the form of college loans, your college is doing exactly the same thing. Except, you know, instead of taking Intro to Earth Sciences, they are building a new dorm.

From The New York Times:

Students piling on debt to go to college might attract all the attention, but colleges have been on a borrowing spree as well, nearly doubling the amount of debt they’ve taken on in the last decade to fix aging campuses, keep up with competitors and lure students with lavish amenities.

In January, Moody’s Investors Service put a negative outlook on the entire higher education sector, even at major research universities, which had been spared in previous forecasts. And that came after a year in which the agency downgraded the credit ratings of 22 colleges, including Alabama A&M,Wellesley College and Morehouse College. At the same time, Standard & Poor’s Ratings Service downgraded 13 institutions, including Amherst College, Tulane University and Yeshiva University. Combined, both agencies upgraded only eight colleges in 2012.

Our colleges are going through a pretty serious identity crisis: Should they build the kind of large, clean buildings that look flashy when students visit campus or should they hire (potentially) more expensive professors who also happen to be better at educating the students who enroll? More and more, it seems colleges are doing the former as opposed to the latter, which is fine if you like sparkle. It’s less fine if you like having competent individuals teaching you how to be a competent individual.

Call me crazy, but I’d rather be taught by an intelligent professor in a broken-down building any day.

Check out our premiere digital issue coming in May!

The Boston Marathon explosions: Should we prepare for tragedy?

The natural reaction to yesterday’s events is fear.

By: Linden Figgie

I’ll be honest, I’m afraid.

With the tragedy at the Boston Marathon yesterday, I can’t help but wonder, where next? Among other locations, we’ve seen it at a movie theater, an elementary school and now an annual athletic event. These places, these times, these people are part of our everyday, routine, normal, nine-to-five lives. Where next?

When I go to class, I don’t prepare for a tragic disaster. I don’t wear my metal armor and steel-toed boots to the grocery store. I don’t think about dying when I wake up or my family and friends disappearing when I go to sleep. But should I?

While I’m both physically and relationally removed from the recent catastrophes, I can’t help but feel a pang, a sadness, even anger, because those people’s stories, those people’s losses and unfathomable anguish could be my story. It seems as if we are getting the memo to plan for the “What ifs,” to be on our guard. But how do you plan for tragedy? How do you plan for disaster?

I say this with an aching, pondering, confused heart: I don’t think we can. And perhaps more importantly, I don’t think we should. I think what we should do is remember that we are all living the same story from a different character’s perspective. One person’s loss is our loss. One person’s victory is our victory. If we are living the Kingdom story, we are living for something much greater than any tragedy could ever take away.

So where next? The next chapter, the next page, the next scene in which we have the privilege to live fully and completely for a much greater calling than we could ever imagine.

And yet, I’m still afraid.

Stop Being “Logical”

“Logic” and “Facebook timelines” don’t really mix.

By: Abbie Goldschmid

I thought hell would freeze over long before I would ever tell people to stop using logic in their Facebook posts, but that day has come as a result of my News Feed.

Just stop people.

Stop coming up with “logical” explanations for why your moral compass points the way it does. There is nothing logical about it. Some Christians will read versus in the Bible and determine that they are no longer culturally relevant or their context changes the meaning or any number of other explanations to determine that they are not true. Others will find this to be a horrendous mistake, borderline heretical and without a doubt as sinful as the sin they are accepting. Is there a logical explanation for why two God-fearing, competent adults will arise at two different conclusions? No. You might say it has to do with one being right and the other wrong, but I would still say no. They just happen to be different.

The logic train has long ago crashed and burned on the subject of gay marriage. “Traditional” marriage (the “way God intended” when He made Adam and Eve and not Adam and Steve [or so I’m told]), isn’t so traditional when we look it straight in the face. Solomon had what…300 wives? That doesn’t sound so traditional. Mary was probably 13 when she got married AND had a kid; that’s pretty frowned upon these days. Women were bought and sold as a means to secure peace, fortune, and happiness no matter how dreadful their new circumstances would be. Mail order brides, arranged marriages, inter-family marriages, the list goes on and on. “Traditional” marriages may have been between men and women, but that doesn’t mean matrimonial history hasn’t morphed along the way. Maybe you think it should stop morphing, but stop acting like it hasn’t in the past.

And it comes from the other side too. This “unequal” treatment idea that keeps floating around is a bit misleading. In fact, a homosexual does have the same rights as a heterosexual. Neither is allowed to marry someone of the same sex. While this comes back to the very nature of the argument (should both those that are heterosexual and those that are homosexual be allowed to marry someone of the same sex), technically everyone is already equal. You’re allowed to debate whether “equality” is really what you want in this situation, but stop using “unequal” treatment as a logical argument. Everything is equal, and perhaps that is the problem.

Moral of the story? Exactly. It comes down to your morals. Your opinion on homosexuality is simply based on what you believe to be an ethical way to live life. It doesn’t have to do with some logical argument that is deeply rooted in fact, because fact is so subjective in this case.

Some people say children grow up better in two parent homes in which one is male and one is female. Well then, outlaw single mothers and fathers. Some say that the main purpose of marriage is to have children, and therefore legalizing gay marriage would be harmful to society. And in response some would argue that we should keep people over 50 from getting married and everyone has to take a fertility test before getting hitched.

There are arguments and responses, and this is the reason no one seems able to convince anyone else because you can’t. You can’t shift someone’s moral compass by simply saying yours is right. Acknowledge that your opinion is what you believe to be moral. Acknowledge that they believe what they think is moral. And then put the issue to a vote. That’s the beautiful thing about democracy; no one has to be a “real” winner to win.