BaptistDancer's Xanga

Extremely important points

Sun, 16 Aug 2009 02:25:53 GMT

I've been reading Total Truth by Nancy Pearcey. Her insight into the thought patterns of American Christians is critically needed. I wish every Christian would read this book before going to college, faith-based or secular.

Here are some of her points I have found most impressive:

“ . . . no system of thought is a product purely of Reason—because Reason is not a repository of infallible, religiously autonomous truths, as Descartes and other rationalists thought. Instead, it is simply a human capacity, the ability to reason from those premises. The important question, then, is what a person accepts as ultimate premises, for they shape everything that follows.

If you press any set of ideas back far enough, eventually you reach some starting point. Something has to be taken as self-existent—the ultimate reality and source of everything else. There’s no reason for it to exist; it just “is.” For the materialist, the ultimate reality is matter, and everything is reduced to material constituents. For the pantheist, the ultimate reality is a spiritual force or substratum, and the goal of meditation is to reconnect with that spiritual oneness. For the doctrinaire Darwinist, biology is ultimate, and everything, even religion and morality, is reduced to a product of Darwinian processes. For the empiricist, all knowledge, is traceable ultimately to sense data, and anything not known by sensation is unreal.

And so on. Every system of thought begins with some ultimate principle. If it does not begin with God, it will begin with some dimension of creation—the material, the spiritual, the biological, the empirical, or whatever. Some aspect of created reality will be “absolutized” or put forth as the ground and source of everything else—the uncaused cause, the self-existent. To use religious language, this ultimate principle functions as the divine, if we define that term to mean the one thing upon which all else depends for existence. This starting assumption has to be accepted by faith, not by prior reasoning. (Otherwise, it is not really the ultimate starting point for all reasoning—something else is, and we have to dig deeper and start there instead).

In this sense, we could say that every alternative to Christianity is a religion. It may not involve ritual or worship services, yet it identifies some principle or force in creation as the self-existent cause of everything else. Even nonbelievers hold to some ultimate ground of existence, which functions as an idol . . . Faith is a universal human function, and if is not directed toward God it will be directed toward something else.” (41-42)

“The implication [of the Bible] is that no part of creation is inherently evil or bad. ‘Everything created by God is good, and nothing is to be rejected if it is received with thanksgiving,’ Paul says (1 Tim. 4:4). Being spiritual cannot be defined simply in terms of roping off and avoiding certain parts of creation—whether movies, cards, dancing, or makeup. Once we understand this, Christians will never come across as negative kill-joys. While hating sin, we should exhibit a deep love for this world as God’s handiwork, seeing through its brokenness and sin to its original created goodness. We should be known as people in love with the beauties of nature and the wonders of human creativity.” (84).

“This ‘secular revolution’ affected every part of American culture—not only higher education but also the public schools, politics, psychology, and the media. In each of these areas, Chrisitianity was privatized as ‘sectarian,’ while secular philosophies like materialism and naturalism were put forth as ‘objective’ and ‘neutral,’ and therefore the only perspectives suitable for the public sphere.

Of course, they were nothing of the sort. There is nothing neutral about the claim that the only way to get at truth is to deny God’s existence. That is a substantive religious claim, just as it is to affirm God’s existence. Yet because of the secular revolution, even many believers came to believe that speaking from a distinctively Christian perspective was biased—that to be truly objective they must bracket their faith and think like nonbelievers in their professional work.” (98-99)

I haven't finished it yet, but so far I haven't found anything I outright disagree with. Some of it may be a bit imbalanced, but that is natural, considering she is trying to correct massive errors in Western Christian way of thought.

Find it in a library or amazon page near you.

Held Inextricably

Sun, 26 Jul 2009 02:30:42 GMT

When I was twelve or thirteen, I read Pilgrim’s Progress all the way through, and it was a little beyond what I can handle. For starters, I was reading the original version, not one put into modern English. Emotionally, it was even more trying--I was filled with horror by the time I finished. With all those overwhelming dangers and obstacles that the book said faces a Christian, and all those temptations to turn back, what if I didn’t make it? What if the tests were so hard I would some day give up the journey? Surely it would be better to never exist. That was not the first time that I feared for the certainty of my eternal place with God. Each such experience of serious doubt shook me to the core for fear of missing the Kingdom of God. My only comfort was the assurances of my Baptist parents that salvation is permanent.

Still, I was for years uncertain. What about Matthew 12:32, or Hebrews 6:4-6? I am too frail to believe that any transgression is beyond me. The devil once took great advantage of this frailty, and my immature understanding of those verses, doing everything possible to convince me that I had indeed done the unpardonable and lost my salvation forever. During that time, all I can say is that, though I thought I was no longer saved (there was evidence and logic to back this up), I somehow knew I was, though I scarcely dared to acknowledge it. What I told myself, to keep from killing myself, was there was not point in going to hell any sooner than necessary. But the only thing that really made life bearable in that dark time was a belief, deeper though unfortunately less perceptible than the logic, that somehow God was still holding on to me. Otherwise, I could never have borne the thought that I had lost all that is hope and goodness, that I was separated from everything worth living for. Those experiences brought me to the point that I must believe that salvation is irrevocable, because the alternative is far too terrifying.

I think that to say that salvation is insecure is to cheapen it. After all, can a new creation of God’s be unmade by me? Jesus was raised never to die again—if we have His life, how could we die? Indeed, the Bible describes the new life of salvation with words like “immortal” “incorruptible” “eternal.” Additionally, God makes with man a very particular type of relationship—a covenant. Covenants were recognized by ancient cultures to be the most solemn, unbreakable, everlasting relationships possible. They were understood to be stronger than family relationships and all other duties, unbreakable by life or death. God Himself was invoked to enforce it. So in my view, God did not spill the blood of His only Son to initiate the most sacred bond in the universe so we can walk out of it at any time.

We sing that His grace is greater than all our sin—it was enough to initially forgive us and bring us into a relationship with Him, and it is enough to maintain it, however we fall. My relationship with God is secure, because I am already forgiven of every sin I will every commit.

I know the arguments to the contrary: faith without works is dead, so if someone is no longer showing works, his faith has died. I know there are those who have walked away from Christianity. All I can say to that is, I believe they will either come back, or they never really belonged to Christ to begin with (1 John 2:19).

The Most High keeps my soul. I certainly cannot keep myself in Him; but I am persuaded that He can (2 Tim. 1:12). His lovingkindness prevails over me (Psalm 117:2). No one can snatch me from my Shepherd’s hand (John 10: 27-29), and nothing can separate me from His love (Romans 8: 35-39).

Monday, July 20, 2009

Mon, 20 Jul 2009 20:17:09 GMT

"The Bible is not a rule book. We do find lots of rules in it, but they are not clustered together in one place and they do not cover every exigency. Jesus did not give us a one-size-fits-all formula. To a literalist, He will always prove to be the most elusive of teachers. In fact, there is very little of the letter of the law in what He tells us. A rule-bound system simply cannot keep up with His darting illumination. Had He meant for us to follow a prescription for every behavior, no relationship would have been necessary beyond the relationship with the pages of a book. The Law, says the writer of the letter to the Hebrews, is incapable of bringing anybody to maturity. Rules, codes, and policies are deadening. They cannot stimulate growth. No organizational policy, no set of tacit assumptions from your culture or religious group, will lead you to the full freedom of mature character that your sonship will do--characterized by independent, freely-given obedience."
--Elisabeth Eliot, Be Still My Soul, "Walking with Jesus."

"Things that mean the most to me are the memories I've made along the way"

Sun, 12 Jul 2009 04:40:23 GMT

(Title from the song "How Could I Ask for More?" sung by Cindy Morgan, I believe)

I miss . . .

The presence of God. Not that He is ever apart from me, but that I am so far from Him. I miss the intimacy, the ecstasy, of perceiving Him. When His holiness permeates everything and captivates me. I miss those occasional tastes of heaven He gives, and I miss the fullness of Him that I have yet to experience.

My husband. Whoever, and wherever, he is. .

College Heights Baptist Church. Truly a church home to me.

Mariah, David, and their baby I haven’t even met (face-to-face) yet. You have been the source of such joy to me.

Gregg and Ana—dang, I need to shoot something! How fond are my memories of pizza, sugar highs, karate fights, looking for lost keys, Broadway Brew, the best Italian food ever, and many, many movies.

Sarah McVey—my sister, with whom I could share anything. So many sweet conversations, about God, time and burritos, writing ambitions, and skittles ;)

Ariel Walden—I haven’t seen you in too long, girl! (except briefly)

Tommy and Teresa—prayer meetings, food, hugs, and lots of delicious arguments. I even miss the puppies.

Brandon Basham—yeah, I miss you too. Seriously.

The Care Inn nursing home residents. They occupy a very special place in my heart.

Jimmy Storrie.

Alex Vasquez. Life seems a little too tame without him.

The streams of Colorado. They are positively amazing, and I can never leave them without quickly wishing to return.

School. I’m glad to be done, don’t get me wrong, but I so love to learn. And to goof off in a dorm.

The stuffed animals my siblings and I used to play with—“Shaving cream—it’s still just for shaving!!!”

Schlitterbahn. When it’s not busy.

There are so many other people, places, and things. I am so thankful for all God continues to give me, if only for their proper times. My life has been so full. I look forward to many other blessings to drink in from His wonderfully gracious hand.

*Note: I decided to do two simpler posts instead of one intellectual one this week.

Pressure Turns Carbon, and Faith, to Diamonds

Sat, 11 Jul 2009 20:25:55 GMT

One of the strangest aspects of being a Christian, in my experience, is being caught between heaven and earth . . . trying to remember the glory of what will be when surrounded by troubles now. Our role is to somehow believe that the glory of what will be comes, not just in spite of, but from the grief of what is.

Sometimes, in a quiet place with God, as I worship Him for all His goodness and promises and faithfulness, I laugh, for it feels that nothing could ever be wrong again. How could there be such thing as disaster, when such a loving and faithful God oversees it all? Then other times, I am sick with despair . . . when the same old enemies still afflict me or my loved ones; when mountains don’t seem to have moved, when beloved ones are still STILL in bondage to destructiveness, after so much advice, so many tears, so much prayer. Then it is crushing to think of all the other people in the world under God’s righteous wrath, trapped in the enemy’s lies and their own self-centeredness, pride, indulgence, desires. Perversion permeates, wrong prevails, ambitions fizzle, Christians fail. How can I rejoice, when I pray so long and desperately, and this is what I see?

But I know. God is still the Lord mighty to save. He is blessed forever, meaning He will accomplish His good pleasure. He will be faithful to complete His work in Christ Jesus. He who created us for His glory, gave His Son that we may be made like Him, will not see this purpose fail. Surely He has not done all this in vain. Every tear will be wiped away, our hope will be seen, and the kingdom will be spectacular. Then we will see the truth of what we try to convince ourselves of--that the destruction that ravaged the Lord’s chosen ones has not kept Him from making us a beautiful bride for Himself. That the prayers that seemed so fruitless have perfumed every corner of our new home; that from everything that was working for evil God has made into something good indeed.

But, for today, my God, let more of Your grace be poured out . . . to give our elders dreams, our younger soldiers Your Word, our persecuted brethren steadfastness, us as free believers boldness. Give us that bitterly convicting grace to take away every excuse we try to make. Oh, God, humble us in prayer. Give us vision, wisdom, patience, perseverance, devotion. Oh, Lord, purify us! And please help me continue to believe that You will make all things new in time.

Ashira l'adonai ki ga'oh ga'ah
Ashira l'adonai ki ga'oh ga'ah
Michamocha, ba-elim adonai
Michamocha nedar-bakodesh
Nachitah v'chasd'cha, am zu ga'alta
Nachitah v'chasd'cha, am zu ga’alta
Ashira, Ashira, Ashira...

Translation:
I will sing unto Adonai for He has triumphed gloriously.
I will sing unto Adonai for He has triumphed gloriously.
Who is like You, O Adondai, among the gods?
Who is like You, glorious in holiness?
In Your mercy, you lead the people You redeemed.
In Your mercy, you lead the people You redeemed.
I will sing, I will sing, I will sing...

(from The Prince of Egypt)

Learning Psalm 41:10, over and over

Mon, 06 Jul 2009 03:41:01 GMT

Those of you who knew me through college knew me basically as a workaholic. I tried to spend as much quality time with people as possible . . . while acing all my classes, working, and volunteering for BSM and church activities right and left. The beginning of three of my four summers that followed each year of college, my appetite and enthusiasm decreased. I was so used to being as busy as a person can be (averaging six hours of sleep a night, if I was good), that having so much leisure time made me feel that my life was in the doldrums. That’s when I would know that God and I needed a reflective talk. Because if I felt I was living for nothing without my activity, then I was obviously not living for the God who speaks in stillness.

Even though the things I was doing were good things, ways I intended to serve God, I eventually would wind up doing them for my own satisfaction, not for Him. It is so frustrating when serving God has come between God and me. It is confusing when what I believe God wants me to do in some way becomes an idol replacing God Himself. The scary part is how long a Christian can live under this deception without realizing that anything is wrong. How can one tell the difference, then? I have found that a lot of it has to do with satisfaction. If you are living for something less than God Himself, you need more of it than you can handle, or else you will quickly feel unsatisfied. I, for instance, had to have enough responsibilities to push my physical and mental limits in order to feel satisfied.

If one gets his satisfaction from work, drugs, adrenaline, entertainment, or anything else coming from this world, the longer we draw from it, the less it pleases us. That is why Jesus said He is the Living Water, and all who drink of Him shall never thirst (John 4). Yes, our thirst for Him continually increases. The difference is, He is like pure water that truly hydrates, and enables us to grow, ever growing more and needing more. And He is the Fountain that never runs dry. The more we need Him, the more He satisfies. Everything else is like salt water, which one may drink and drink, and only become more dehydrated.

Blessedly, I worship a Jealous God. He will not let me keep drinking from something else, both for His sake and mine. He has started to heal my obsessiveness towards things which once seemed critical, but are truly inconsequential. I no longer necessarily have to wait for quiet before I realize I have been striving after noise. The striving itself becomes empty. Having known the delight, the sweet fulfillment of the smallest pure devotion to God, the emptiness of striving after something else becomes more noticeably miserable now. “Let Thy goodness like a fetter bind my wandering heart to Thee”—the more I surrender to the goodness of God, the more unbearable the misery of joyless idols becomes.

I first chose to follow Christ because I believed what I was told about Him, that He loves and died for me, and without Him I would go to hell. Later, I followed Him because His ways made sense to me, and He gave me grace to believe Him in the instances which did not. Now I follow Him, even more closely, because I cannot bear not to. There is nowhere else to turn that would not suffocate me. I am obsessive, and any other obsession would kill me, not so much with its relentless demands as with its void. Addicted as I have been to perfection, approval, and activity, when I remember the Lord, these things become worthless.

Eternity in the Heart of the Mundane

Sat, 27 Jun 2009 17:29:03 GMT

We in the Western culture are taught to invest our time as our most precious resource, and make sure we are spending so as to ensure we live for what is really important. Particularly, Christians are urged to remember that the things of earth will pass away, and that we must do the work for God that will last beyond our lives. Amy Carmichael compellingly urges us to do this in Things as They Are, in which she writes of a dream that the world’s lost are blindly walking to the edge of a cliff, and many believers neglect turning them back from falling to their deaths because we are too busy making “daisy chains” (p. 41-44). Certainly, then, it seems a sin to work on things that will fade like the flower when eternal fates hang in the balance.

Yet it is possible, and eventually depressing, to take this idea too far. After all, it was important enough for God to make flowers, even though they fade. Indeed, He placed us in a life of tediousness, “vanity,” as the Teacher of Ecclesiastes says. Then is it impossible to make eternal importance of what we do with our everyday lives? No. Look at 1 Corinthians 3:12-16,

Now if any man builds on the foundation with gold, silver, precious stones, wood, hay, straw, each man’s work will become evident; for the day will show it because it is to be revealed with fire, and the fire itself will test the quality of each man’s work. If any man’s work which he has built on it remains, he will receive a reward. If any man’s work is burned up, he will suffer loss; but he himself will be saved, yet so as through fire.

But what is this gold and silver which remain? I think that can be found in 1 Peter 1:6-9,

In this [hope of an inheritance in heaven] you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which perishes, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ; and though you have not seen Him, you love Him, and though you do not see Him now, but believe in Him, you greatly rejoice with joy inexpressible and glorified, obtaining as the outcome of your faith the salvation of your souls.

That’s kind of an involved passage, but did you catch what it said is proven more precious than gold tested by fire? Your faith. That faith will bring glory at the end. That, I believe, is where mundane things can become eternally important, because faith is often manifested in small, apparently temporal actions. In a mother who manages not to yell at her kid, even though she’s worn out. The nurse who cleans up, medicates, and talks to the nursing home patients who won’t remember it tomorrow. The shut-in who resolves never to complain, but rather be a joy to everyone around. A father who takes a few extra minutes to linger over a game with his children. A secretary who determines to add a little brightness to every part of the business she runs. A body shop repairman who chooses to love his work, sanding entire vehicles by hand. On this tedious world of dust where God has chosen to display His glory, it becomes a blurry line between the mundane and the supernal.

C.S. Lewis in “Learning in War-Time” points out that God created us with the desire and need for things like knowledge, beauty, humor, and society, and the need often intensifies for those facing war, or any such circumstances that ostensibly would overwhelm such trivialities. Being put in a right relationship with the Creator of these things certainly does not exclude them (unless we have made them somehow hinder our obedience to Him):

. . . it is clear that Christianity does not exclude any of the ordinary human activities. St. Paul tells people to get on with their jobs. He even assumes that Christians may go to dinner parties, and what is more, dinner parties given by pagans. Our Lord attends a wedding and provides miraculous wine. Under the aegis of His Church, and in the most Christian ages, learning and the arts flourish. The solution of this paradox is, of course, well known to you. “Whether ye eat or drink or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.”

All our merely natural activities will be accepted, if they are offered to God, even the humblest: and all of them, even the noblest, will be sinful if they are not. . . The work of a Beethoven, and the work of a charwoman, become spiritual on precisely the same condition, that of being offered to God, of being done humbly “as to the Lord.”—“Learning in War-Time,” The Weight of Glory and Other Essays.

One might say that these things take on eternal significance if one witnesses to lost people while doing it. But I think the witnessing isn’t exactly it. Witness is powerless without evidence of God’s hand—without the abundant life we are testifying to. The joy at all times, the peace ruling in our hearts, the grace we show at every opportunity—that is the eternity, the heavenly, in our lives. That is what makes witnessing meaningful, when we can, not just tell the way to heaven, but show heaven to a lost person. That is one of the more difficult tests facing the more sincere Christians in America—how to offer to God those necessary things that don’t seem important, and thereby live heaven in our stressful, repetitious lives. In the Bible’s meditation on the temporal and toilsome nature of life,

Solomon’s insistence is on the haphazard. These things—food, sex, money, and mother earth—must always have their place in the life of any man of God, and they either make men and women devils or make them what they should be. The man of God uses these things to express his relationship to God; whereas those who do not know God try to find lasting good in the things themselves.”—Oswald Chambers, Shade of His Hand, “Time, Death, and Trifles”

So why does the Eternal God make temporary things? Furthermore, why has He put mankind in a temporary world, and yet set “eternity in their heart” (Eccl. 3:11)? Perhaps we won’t truly get the eternal things down until we get the temporal down. Perhaps we wouldn’t understand how to cultivate a disciple until we know how to water a vegetable patch. Perhaps we can’t really work for our reward, unless it is as if for no reward. Perhaps we learn obedience for its own sake by doing things that don’t seem to have a purpose.

Or maybe we see too dimly. Maybe, in being so frustrated with some who neglect the weightier things (Matt. 23:23), certainly the more glaring sin, some of us despise the small things (Zech. 4:10) that God rejoices in.

Let us, then, be about building the worldwide, everlasting kingdom, but without despising the miniscule things. One day, we may see that the response of our faith to the temporal things has indeed left an impression on eternity.

*Note: I'm going to try to write a blog about this long every week now. I need to keep my writing skills sharp and build a portfolio. Hope you enjoy. And if anyone has any ideas for subjects (*Nudges Sarah*), feel free to leave a suggestion, and we will see if I have something to say about it.

Give more when it hurts

Thu, 11 Jun 2009 01:58:40 GMT

What is our personal responsibility when things get tough? It’s our first instinct, even common sense, to hold back, take it easy, take care of yourself first. But I am reminded of a dialogue in Fiddler on the Roof,

Beggar: Alms for the poor, alms for the poor . . .

Lazar: Here, Reb Nahum, is one kopek.

Beggar: One kopek? Last week you gave me two kopeks.

Lazar: I had a bad week.

Beggar: So, if you had a bad week, why should I suffer?

Of course, that passage is supposed to be funny, because as a beggar, he should just be grateful for any charity he can get. But charity, where it meets real needs, indeed suffers when givers have less money than last year. For instance, the Southern Baptists’ mission board cannot afford to send nearly as many missionaries as before, even though the harvest has never been riper, and they have more qualified applicants than ever. I imagine other organizations that are trying to bring a little blessing to the world are having similar difficulties. So I believe that we have a responsibility, even when we are having difficult times, to give financially all the more, because there are so many people suffering far more difficulty than we.

This principle also applies to prayer. When I am suffering a little, I never forget to pray for my alleviation. But I believe that instead, it should move me to pray for those suffering even more than I am. A dear friend, Linda, first told me about practicing this. This kind of prayer reminder may be especially applied to today’s global economy—we may want to pray we still have retirement, but should we not pray all the more for those who don’t know when they may eat next?

So, I challenge you, and myself—pray for the suffering around the world as much as your own. To anyone serious about the cheerful giving God calls for in the Bible, dig a little deeper and give a little more to meet the intensified needs of this suffering world. Don’t know where to pray or give? Locally, there are churches, food pantries/homeless shelters, hospitals, nursing homes, and teen mentoring. Maybe you can give time rather than money to these. Internationally, there are humanitarian relief organizations (World Vision, Red Cross, Salvation Army, and World Relief, to name a few), and mission organizations (SBC’s Cooperative Program, Serving in Mission [SIM], The Navigators—again, a small sample!) There are also more specialized charities like Voice of the Martyrs and Care Net. If there is any cause you feel passionate about, please let your difficulties remind you of the even greater ones facing these ministries, and not cause you to shrink away from being involved. Yes, if you give money once, you will endlessly be solicited for more. But I take that as yet more emphasis on the need for people to be willing to see the pain of others. I also take it as a blessing, for even if I don’t respond to each solicitation financially, at least I am reminded to pray. After all, no other giving is effective without prayer.

So I appeal to you most of all, pray, not just for Americans’ security, but for restoration among those suffering in ways with which we are not even acquainted. Pray for the poor, the lost, the hungry, and the ministries reaching out to them. Being involved with the needs of others puts our own in perspective and, I believe, draws us nearer to the heart of God.

“The Spirit of the Lord GOD is upon me,

Because the LORD has anointed me

To bring good news to the afflicted;

He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,

To proclaim liberty to the captives

And freedom to prisoners” Isaiah 61:1

"My Path is Hidden from Me"--LotR

Wed, 27 May 2009 19:51:55 GMT

It's a strange feeling, to someone so used to success. This is the point where hard work won't always cut it.

Nothing I want to succeed in now is anywhere near sure.

Writing: Got my second rejection letter yesterday. I'm not that bummed, because I know it's part of the process--it's just the wondering, how many more are to come before I can get published consistently?

Fiddler on the Roof: Most of you don't know, but the college where my Dad works is putting on the musical, and Daddy and I were both going to try out. I really really wish I could do a lead with him. With my musical immaturity, I'll be lucky to get a chorus part, though.

Missions: I just found out, IMB has had to cut way back on sending missionaries. They told me today that they won't be considering anybody else until January, and even then they will be taking far fewer candidates than normal. But I really can't imagine doing anything else, anymore. So I'm left to wonder--wait? Or try to find another venue for missions?

I could freak about all this, but I won't. God knows what He wants to do with me now. I just have to trust that He knows where these wishes, "ifs," and "maybes" will get me to turn, and make sure He puts what He wants in front of me.

Lord, help me to listen. I just want to be where You want me to be. And I know You're smiling right now, because You're thinking more about where I am in proximity to Your heart than my next occupation.

If I stand or fall, let everyone know:

Wed, 06 May 2009 05:45:30 GMT

I came to the Lord tonight feeling that my honor is in the balance. To me, an A is a victory and a B is a failure; and I will not know until tomorrow whether I got an A in one of my classes. So I prayed:

God, the deciding point is not when my professor locks in my grade. The deciding point is now. The deciding point has been the last four years, and it is in my heart, not my grade. I have done, as close as anyone can claim, my best. But did I do it for You? In many ways, not in the beginning. I was doing almost everything largely for cursed Perfection's sake. But it pleased You to reveal that to me, and I have been trying to forsake that idol. Still, I don't know why I have pushed myself so hard, except that it's not in my nature or mental makeup to do, in anything I set my mind to, less than what is expected of me. I have wanted it to be for You, and prayed I would honor You in all things, especially my honors thesis. But have I? Have I kept my heart open for You to teach me to do everything in love and not pride? Will the results tomorrow be the answer?

Regardless, Lord, Let me rejoice. If it glorifies You to give me success, and my heart has been Yours to receive it, then yes, Lord! Be glorified when I graduate on Saturday with a 4.0! But if it pleases You to show me that I have trusted in my own ability, which will fail, then lord, be glorified in my failure! Truly You are a great and awesome God, too merciful to let our pride remain. Perhaps a B would still be an answer to that prayer I cried to You at the dawn of my freshman year, "Love and not pride, Lord!" Perhaps it would be proof that You are still working on that, and thus You will be faithful to complete it. Regardless, let me rejoice in Your glory, and feel nothing for mine.Thank You so much for this mercy to continue to hold me, when I so don't deserve it.

Be all I want!