Is This Faith or Am I Living in Denial?

I've decided if I were ever to write a memoir, it would probably share a title with this post.

Do you know those spiritual gift tests that you can take? You number on a scale of 1 to 5 how true or untrue the statement is for you, and then you tally everything up in the end and whichever one has the highest score is your spiritual gift. We've done those a lot in the office at work to discover our strengths. We do it mainly because my supervisor is amazing and realizes that while weaknesses do need to be worked on, you have the strengths you do for a reason and those can't be ignored. So, we score ourselves from 1 to 5, tally the numbers, and in the end I always find myself staring this spiritual gift of faith in the face.

At first I kind of laughed and shook my head. Sure, I have faith in my friends, I have faith that the pizza man will deliver a round pie of perfection after I make the right call, and I have faith in God. That's not what we're talking about though, a spiritual gift of faith. That's intense faith, serious business. No way. Not me.

God and I have a great relationship. He tells me something, I tell Him to tell me more about that, and then He does. Very slowly and subtly, sometimes I don't even realizing it's happening. In this case, He spoke to me through my past. He walked me through a timeline of my life and as I looked at that fun and adventurous road He simply asked, "at what point did you doubt Me?" 

I have doubted many things in my life, but God has never been one of them. I have built walls between us, and I even turned my back and tried to ignore Him for awhile, but I always knew He was there. I always knew that in the end, His hand was in my life and He was sovereign. I have never doubted that my God is real. I always had faith in God, but there was a time in my life I denied Him my heart. 

If you've ever spent any amount of time around my best friend and I, you may have heard us at some point use the phrase, "I'm fiiiiiine." We say it in a certain tone, drawing out the I, as if trying to convince ourselves that we will, indeed, be fine. We usually say it in situations when we will clearly not be fine. The main reason we picked this little habit up is due to the fact that we both like to push sticky situations to the side. As long as I don't have to deal with it, things will be fine. Right? Ignore irritating emotions and eventually I'll be fine. Right? We recognize that there really isn't much that can be done in some instances, so we decide to ignore the problem. It'll be fiiiiiine. So far, we've always been.... relatively fine. We're both still breathing, so we've got that going for us.

So, as I look down at this paper in front of me. This cute little Christian cliche of a spiritual gifts test, I realize that I will be fine. While I was saying those words in denial of a problem I didn't want to face, God pulled through in the end. While I deny the problem, I know that God is present. I have always known this.

Is This Faith, or Am I Living in Denial; a memoir. Look for it at your local bookstore... just give me a couple decades to live the kind of life I want to write about.

With Love,
Trishelle

Goodbye to Arthur

Here I am again, returned from Spring Break awhile ago, and into the full swing of life here at BGU. This last weekend we had our Campus Preview Weekend. We have a great host of prospective students come and stay with us so they can get a feel for what life on campus is all about. It's fun and exciting because you get to meet so many new people who have the same calling to missions as yourself. However, for introverts such as myself, it can also be exhausting. After two days of life back to usual, I'm just now starting to feel like myself again.

If you received my newsletter, you may have read about what happened with my car over Spring Break. If you did not receive my newsletter and would like to, you can add yourself to the mailing list  right here, right now.

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If you did not hear about what happened to my car, let me sum it up for you rather quickly. There was an unfortunate accident, and, well, you can see for yourself. My poor baby didn't fare so well. 

After several calls and discussions with insurance, they announced that it was a total loss. I cried. I cried a lot. I don't cry very often, but when I heard they couldn't fix my car I really, really cried. I loved my car. It wasn't just a set of wheels and a gas tank, his name was Arthur, and he was my partner in crime. We had some great adventures. 

I cried even more when I found out I would not be seeing any of the insurance money. While it was fully covered, I still owed money on the vehicle. This now meant I would no longer have my Ol' Faithful, but I would be completely without a car. 

If you are somewhat familiar with me, and who I am, in general, as a person, you may have noticed that I have a fairly strong independent streak that runs right through the center of my heart. I'm what some people might call a free-spirit, an adventurer, and I don't really need you to do my exploring. In fact, I really like doing it on my own. It's not that I don't like you, but going on adventures by myself is how I destress. It's a huge part of how I refocus my brain and keep myself moving in the right direction. 

Here's the thing though, when I decided to follow God and come to Minnesota, I gave Him one condition. "As long as I have a car. As long as I'll be able to keep my freedom." He didn't really have much to say in return, but I was able to get my car and happily headed off to the freezing tundra. 

God saw things I wasn't willing to recognize though. He saw a wall I'd placed around my heart, and He saw pride. Pride in a hunk of metal and four tires. He saw a girl who was willing to give it all... except for her "freedom." He saw this, and He knew that she would never be able to live the life He'd called her too if it wasn't addressed. Sometimes God speaks in a gentle whisper, reminding you of who He is, and what He would like to see from you. Sometimes, a car comes from nowhere and smacks your pride and joy, leaving it useless and forcing you take a step back and reexamine yourself.

I realized I needed to stop holding the idea of who I am in my car. My freedom and independence, my free-spirit, my solitary expeditious ways, that wasn't what mattered. What mattered was that I was holding all of that one level above the call I have in my life. I had conditions that needed to be filled in order for me to obey.

So, now I'm trusting Him to provide transportation. It has been a struggle for me, to ask other people for a ride, when I'm the one who is generally able to offer the rides. It's been a struggle to not be able to grab my keys and just go. It's been a struggle when I feel trapped in one spot. I'm struggling guys, but at the same time, I'm learning that my identity isn't within what car I drive, or where that car can take me. It's in what Jesus Christ did for me on calvary and how far this story of true love can take me. 

With Love, 

Trishelle

Please, Please, Let Me Love You

We, Americans, live in a culture where people are always rising to defend others. They want society to know that it's okay if you love cats, and it's okay if you love dogs. It's okay if you like to bike, or snowboard, or skateboard. It's okay if you like black, but if you like yellow, that's alright too. Introvert, or extrovert? Both are good. Do you like to stay inside and read, are you a geek, or a nerd? It's all good. Some of us are vegetarians, and some of us like steak. Don't worry, both of you are accepted. Do you like the cold, or thrive in the sun? Whichever you choose is excellent. Coffee is good, but tea is good too. Muslim, hindu, atheist, agnostic, buddhist, you're all okay.

I am a christian. 

That's not okay.

I get it, I really do. I've been hurt by people who have claimed that title as well. I've seen their hypocritical ways. I've watched them tear people down. I've heard them lie through their teeth. I know. 

Please, please, let me tell you. They are not christians. The meaning of christian is "to be Christ-like," and even if you don't believe the Bible was truly inspired by God, you at least know that Jesus Christ was known as a good man. A kind man. A loving man. A man who cared for others more than he cared for himself. Here's the thing, and please stay with me, I could spend all day telling you I'm a fish, but when you look at me you don't see scales. You don't see gills. You don't see fins. No matter how much I tell you I'm a fish, you won't believe me, even if I'm convinced of it myself; that's not what you see. Don't you think there are people who can knock on your door and say the word christian, and be wrong?

We're a culture of not setting stereotypes, and yet for years I have feared stepping forward and saying the words "I am a christian." I was afraid, because I knew I would be put into a category I didn't want to be a part of. I didn't want to be seen as the one who brings the Bible to you and proceeds to force it down your throat. I didn't want you to see me as the one who would turn away from you because you did something the Bible teaches against. I didn't want to be seen as someone of judgement, instead of someone with love. 

Here I am, begging you, do not put me in that box with the other "christians" who have hurt you. Let me love you. Let me walk beside you and show you what the word Christian really means. When I fall, recognize that it's not because I have a Bible, but because I forgot to open it. When you ask me for advice, or my opinion, expect real and honest answers, but know that even if it's not the answer you wanted, I still love you. I am still here for you. I still care about you, even if I don't agree with you. If you want to know why, I will gladly tell you, but be prepared to hear the answer.

I love you, because Christ loves me. 

With Love,
Trishelle