Someone who claims to be “willing to try anything once” is often seen as brave. This person will be the first one to be invited to a sushi diner or to go sky diving.

But I’ve done a lot of things once. Once, I managed to climb a tall excruciating mountain. Once I found the place I was headed for without having to turn around or call for directions. Once I ate something I thought I wouldn’t like.

The real challenge is not when you do something for the first time. The real challenge comes when you do something once, realize how hard it is the first time, and dare to do it again.

Christ commands us to do things that are hard. We know that they are hard because we tried them once already and know the pain it caused. “Love your enemies. Forgive four hundred and ninety times. Don’t keep record of wrongs.”

I’ve tried all of these things once – I’ve loved, I’ve forgiven. But is that truly the goal, or only the first step? Again and again God proved to the Israelites that He was slow to anger by forgiving them, coming to their rescue. How often do I reflect this?

Today, I have a new plan of action. I’m going to think back to something I did that was hard, something I didn’t really enjoy doing, but should have. Then I’ll do it again. Because God doesn’t call us to just test the water. He calls us to leap out of the boat and start walking.

All my eyes see
Pain and misery
All my heart wants
Is salvation for everyone
I searched the land for a willing man
and I found many here
One by one the hard times come
And they all up and left me.
Where’s the Passion?

This song by Big Tent Revival has been repeating itself in my mind all day. It is depressing: many are willing, but few stick it out to the end. I think the reason so few show perseverance is this: Passion is not, as many have misunderstood, warm fuzzy feelings. John Eldredge writes about this in Walking With God:

I’m not exactly feeling the love of God right now. My heart feels a little sad, with a touch of pain…We don’t believe the Scriptures because they don’t seem to align with what we’re feeling right now. We cannot base our convictions on whether or not we are feeling or experiencing the truth of what God says. It is an arrogant posture, to let our immediate state of being be the judge of whether Scripture is true for us.

This shook me up, considering how many times I’ve prayed, “God, I’m on fire for you! Why can’t I feel that fire, urging me not to doubt? I feel so empty right now.” The answer was right there: because I was relying on the feeling of the moment-the expectation that passion is a feeling.

Instead, passion has everything to do with perseverance. Passion and perseverance are rarely thought of as things that go hand-in-hand, because for some reason we have this idea that if we’re passionate about something, the hardships become “as a few days” like Jacob working for Rachel’s hand in marriage (Gen. 29:20). Passion is hard work, it’s not easy, and often we come up dry. Our plans fail, our efforts don’t succeed, and we find ourselves wondering, “Why am I doing this?”

So often God calls me to do things I don’t understand. Sometimes I’m told to tell others of His love when I’m not feeling that love in my own life. But obedience is necessary, even if I don’t feel like it.

And now a few words from the eyes of a demon, as told by C.S. Lewis on the subject of mere feelings (The Screwtape Letters

“He[God] will set them off with communications of His presence which, though faint, seem great to them, with emotional sweetness, and easy conquest over temptation.

“But He never allows this state of affairs to last long. Sooner or later He withdraws, if not in fact, at least from their conscious experience, all those supports and incentives. He leaves the creature to stand on its own legs-to carry out from will alone duties which have lost all relish. Do not be deceived, Wormwood.

“Our cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do our Enemy’s will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys.”

Today, hundreds of thousands of Christians die for their faith.
Those who do not lose their lives are threatened: they are imprisoned, tortured.
Many, many more are persecuted, constantly under scrutiny or running for their lives.

The stories of those who endured have always caught my interest. I used to ask myself if I, too, would die for my Savior. Personally, I would rather die a martyr for Christ than anything else.

If the Martyr’s death is the most victorious, then what should I do about it? If I am unlikely to ever suffer at the hands of someone else, and this is something out of my control, what action is required of me?

Then I found what I was looking for a few years ago in the book Before You Meet Prince Charming in which the author, Sarah Mally, asks her readers if we would be willing to die for Christ. My immediate answer as I read this was “yes”. But then she goes on to say that while so many are willing to die, how many are willing to live for Christ?

Paul writes in Galatians 2:20:

I have been crucified with Christ; it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me; and the life which I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me.

A few months ago, I blogged on the book “Safely Home” by Randy Alcorn. In it, we meet a man who was a street sweeper. He didn’t die in prison as his father and grandfather had, or as his son and grandson would. He simply swept streets all his life. But when he went to heaven, he was introduced to a new concept: a different meaning for the word martyr. God the Father took Li by the hand and showed him his name carved into a wall. Li looked up and saw an inscription: “Wall of Martyrs”. His name was written among thousands.

“But Lord, I wasn’t killed! I died an ordinary man, I don’t deserve this honor!” Li argued.

You see, martyrdom is not dependent on the actions of others. No matter what people do or do not do to us, that cannot change our inheritance.

In the book Jesus Freaks, Volume 2: Fearing God, Not Man by DC Talk and Voice of the Martyrs, a compilation of stories points the readers to a new meaning for the word “martyr.” Being a martyr for Christ has everything to do with losing my life. But losing my life doesn’t necessarily mean “death” in the literal sense. Rather, that death is a finishing of my flesh, so nothing is left but God.

“More of You and less of me” is a common prayer…how much more could my life be worth if I changed that to “All of You (Christ) and none of me”?

I must die to myself, and live in Christ alone. In this way, I’ve already declared myself a Martyr. If I die today, I’ve lost nothing because my “self” was dead to begin with.

This is an invigorating existence.

I watched two movies recently that I highly recommend. The first is Fireproof, a movie that many of you have seen and appreciated for its straightforward message to couples to keep their marriages together. Though I recommend watching it, I am about to heap some criticism on it.

Fireproof is about a struggling marriage. The husband, Caleb, is in a rush to divorce before his father steps in with a challenge: stick it out for 40 days. Caleb accepts the challenge and begins to take steps to keep his marriage together. Caleb’s father gives him a handwritten book applying a principle of relationships for each of the 40 days. Caleb slowly starts putting his wife before himself in all areas suggested in his father’s book, learning the difficult process loving once more.

My dad and I, both writers, said that it was a good movie, but was unrealistic. (Don’t get me wrong: I still recommend the movie. It is worth watching if you haven’t seen it yet.) Picture a divorced person seeing that movie. They will come out of the theater disgusted because, they would reason, it doesn’t always work to love a spouse who doesn’t love back. There was an us-vs-them thing going on, too. Caleb became a Christian in the process of his 40 days, and suddenly everything worked. All sorts of things just happened to work out, like Caleb living next to a Christian campground with scenic walks and wooden crosses.

The Christian walk seldoms works so simply. What if your spouse still divorces after your conversion, or perhaps because you became a Christian, does that invalidate Christianity? Life can be ugly, and our faith doesn’t clean it all up in a snap. The movie seemed “preachy” and I couldn’t help but wonder how non-Christians would respond to its message.

Writers differentiate between “telling” a story and “showing” it. While Fireproof walked through principles of marital relationships by “telling” them with the help of Caleb’s father and his 40-day journal, better stories will “show” the depth of truth through the actual events.

I recall a sermon by Dr. S.M. Davis years ago of when the prophet Nathan confronted David of his adultery. Nathan didn’t go to him and shout, “You are wicked to do what you did!” Instead, he told a story of a rich man with many sheep killing the poor man to take his one lamb. David became enraged at Nathan’s story, making the truth of David’s sin so vivid.

There is power in story, which is why Jesus spoke many times in parables. In the same way, movies could be written so that basic morals are “shown,” rather than merely “told.” The audience wouldn’t feel like truth was thrown in their face.

Fireproof was good, but I liked Pendragon: Sword of His Father, a movie that was made by a handful of large home-school families and lots of volunteers, better. My sister, Lydia, and I bought it for my brother’s 13th birthday, and we watched it as a family last night.

This is an ameteur movie, but the acting, score, plot, costumes, cameras, editing, sets, and choreography were surprisingly well done. Rather then sit with his friend over coffee to discuss whether God should be followed or not, Artos (the main character) refuses to choose power or riches over the lives of others. I loved princess Wenneveria, who was played by Artos’s real-life sister. Her character was another example of showing the audience clearly what a strong woman looks like. No one needed to say, “Artos is a great guy” or “Wenneveria is a great woman”; the events of the story proved it.

The old saying “practice what you preach” reflects the conflict between showing and telling. I sometimes “tell” others of my faith, making sure they know I’m a Christian by my words. Showing my faith to others must be so much more obvious. The actions I take need to say that I am humble, and I am in love with Jesus. This doesn’t mean that I’m always going to succeed at showing, but my actions are critical to reflecting Christ.

Get these movies and watch them. They’re both worth your time. You’ll see what I mean: actions speak louder than words. This reminds me of the Brennan Manning quotation used in the prelude to DC Talk’s song “What If I Stumble?”:

The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today
Is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips
Then walk out the door and deny him by their lifestyle.
That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.

Isaiah 55:8-9 says:

“For My thoughts are not your thoughts,
Nor are your ways My ways,” says the LORD.
“For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
So are My ways higher than your ways,
And My thoughts than your thoughts.”

My Christian walk is often about opposites. I naturally tend to go in one direction, while God calls me to much better. I sometimes don’t understand Him, but neither do the angels or demons, the latter which will use our misunderstandings and weakness against me. In spiritual battle, God’s strategy is high above the Enemy. In the mental world of doctrine and law, God’s way is high above mine: he cares more about me working through the difficulty of relationships than my own tendency to love trivia and knowledge. And in the face of physical illness and death, God sees how I can appreciate my gifts better due to the pain or loss.

I was at a speech and debate tournament last week. I won 6th place in an event that I had just started in two weeks prior to the competitive events and 14th place in a completely random and improvised speech. Nevertheless, I came away disappointed. I had every intention of winning a majority of my debate rounds. Instead, I won only two of my six debate rounds. There were three rounds that I thought I should have won. I even discussed one of these rounds with the opponent I lost to, and he said that he agreed: I deserved to have won. I came home with the seeming failure in debate, feeling confused that so many judges could overlook the kinds of arguments that were so crucial to the issues discussed.

The interesting thing about my experience is that could have gone in two directions with it: Follow the whispers of the spiritual Enemy, or continue to follow the loving guidance of my Father in Heaven. The Enemy was telling me that I’d never succeed because I wasn’t good enough; God was telling me that I was to keep faith, keep trying, and remain content with the results. My dad mentioned in our church meeting Sunday that the Enemy will tell you to be arrogant and refuse to keep challenging yourself, while God’s commands are to remain humble and keep encouraging others.

What I need to learn is to take from experiences like a 2-4 loss in debate and find a level of contentment in it. This goes for all experiences, because if I rely on that particular thing to bring me happiness, then I need to rethink not only happiness itself, but also contentment. I can’t control the results of my actions, but I sure can control my actions.

To illustrate this, let’s look at two songs in popular Christian music. The first is Stacie Orrico’s “More to life”. This particular artist likes to play the game of making her songs to present the problems the world has, without necessarily including the answer to the problem. The lyrics of the song go like this:

I’ve got it all, but I feel so deprived
I go up, I come down and I’m emptier inside
Tell me what is this thing that I feel like I’m missing
And why can’t I let it go

There’s gotta be more to life…
Than chasing down every temporary high to satisfy me
Cause the more that I’m…
Trippin’ out thinkin’ there must be more to life
Well it’s life, but I’m sure… There’s gotta be more

It’s no wonder the song is so popular, because so many can relate. I often listen to the song and think to myself, “What is missing?” She concludes that you can’t just be chasing simple short-lived enjoyments, but doesn’t provide the answer. There are a few problems with this mindset, and we’ll name them before getting to the other song.

1. The mindset of temporary “highs” places the expectations of fulfillment too low.

2. The mindset of temporary “highs” allows for a self-centered guide of actions.

3. The mindset of temporary “highs” tells us that all life has to offer is empty, worthless, wasted time.

While these shortcomings are clear, we’re still asking the question, “What’s the answer to fulfillment?” Rebecca St. James answers this question in her song, “That’s what matters”:

I read about this guy once
He seemed to own the earth
As far as big shots go and people in the know… well
He was definitely top of the list
Anything he wanted- he’d get it
Society’s dream
Had lots of stuff- had lots of money
But you know what’s funny?
He said it all was useless
Meaningless- Meaningless
He said “Everything is meaningless…
A chase after the wind”

Don’t wish for a better day
Be glad and use the one you’re in
Fear God and do exactly what He says
That’s what matters
All else fades like the flowers

Of all the things we can spend our lives doing, the only way to attain true fulfillment is to follow God’s teachings. You know what’s great about that? Fulfillment doesn’t have anything to do with circumstances. You can come in first place, last place or somewhere in between and still be fulfilled. It’s crucial for me to remember that my calling is to obey God–not necessarily to win, come out on top, have the best testimony, be among the most talented, or have the best score. It’s all about being the opposite of what the worlds thinks, about doing what God says. All else fades like the flowers.

When God wants to tell me something, He doesn’t gives me a little whisper. If I don’t get the lesson the first time it lands in my ear, it only takes a couple of days for it to show up again in another place, another way, until I’ve learned whatever it is that I’m supposed to. Recently, I’d been struggling with this quote from Martin Luther King Jr.:

If you are called to be a street sweeper, sweep streets even as Michelangelo painted, or Beethoven composed music, or Shakespeare wrote poetry. Sweep streets so well that all the hosts of heaven and earth will pause to say, ‘Here lived a great street sweeper who did his job well.

I first read it in Alex and Brett Harris’ book, Do Hard Things. The chapter was entitled “Small Hard Things.” Before I read the book, I had been complaining to my mom about how nothing EVER happens when I do little things. Until recently, I’ve been in charge of sorting, washing, drying, and delivering to the folders all the laundry in the house. Some days I would do nine loads, but the average was six or seven. Every time I went to an event or to work at the office, I would get home and the laundry would be piled high. I felt the same discouragement with dishes. Even if I try hard to wash all the dishes on time, it would only take one of my younger siblings to say, “Oh yeah, I forgot to clean off the table,” or for my mom to say, “I found all these dirty dishes in your room,” in order to back up my beautifully done job.

So when I saw the chapter heading “Small Hard Things,” I immediately flipped to that chapter and began to read. It amazed me that the authors could relate to exactly how I felt. They talked about why we hate small jobs:

1. They go unnoticed, and
2. They never seem to be complete.

Brett and Alex share stories about teens who have learned to rise above the same frustrations I was experiencing, but at the time they didn’t encourage me much. No matter what anyone says, there will always be dishes to wash. Then they quoted MLK. I found myself stuck on the idea of sweeping streets. Sweeping streets? For an ambitious teenager, that doesn’t exactly sound like a great and amazing way to spend your life. If your name is written in history, what difference does it make if your sentence goes: “She swept streets” as opposed to “She swept streets well”?

That’s what I thought, anyway, when I read the chapter from the book. But I obviously got it wrong, because God put another book in my lap just this last weekend. In Safely Home, Randy Alcorn tells the story of Li Quan, a man who had tons of opportunities heaped upon him. A talented learner, he was, even with a humble Chinese background, accepted to Harvard University after the miraculous blessing of a small fortune. When his old college roommate, Ben, comes to visit on a business trip, he expects Quan to be a well-known professor at a local university. But when Ben attends Quan’s workplace, he finds that Quan is nothing more than a locksmith. Quan explains that universities refused to hire him because he was a Christian, so he got a job that could at least feed his family. I was enjoying the novel quite well when Quan suddenly mentioned street sweepers, quoting Martin Luther King and telling Ben that his own father was a street sweeper. “Why?” I thought. “Why do people have to go through life doing such insignificant things?” I spent the day pondering the quote while I cleaned house for the hundredth time. I came up with two things about good street sweepers that are worth noting:

1. They realize that no job is worthless.
Even jobs that are never accomplished are important in God’s eyes. If you do a job begrudgingly, it tells everyone watching that you don’t care. Jesus said in Matthew 5:47, “…if you greet only your brothers, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?” I’d say this applies to everything: If you do only great and noticeable work, what are you doing more than others? As Christians, we are to be set apart and different. I find that encouraging: that no matter what I’m doing, I’m different and worth noticing.

2. They take advantage of every opportunity.
What would change if we looked at everything as opportunity to glorify God? Whenever I think about little things, I’m reminded of the verse from Luke 16:10, “Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much, and whoever is dishonest with very little will also be dishonest with much.” The best example in my opinion is Joseph. I can relate: he had 12 siblings. Instead of waiting around for some dude to tell him he was talented and push him up a notch, he had to prove himself as a slave. Even the little jobs he was forced to do, he did well, and God blessed his work.

My problem is often seeing the opportunity. If I don’t recognize my chance to please my mom with a lightened work load or the time frame to build up a relationship with my quietest sister, then I’m not being much worth to anyone.

If you’re still wondering about people who are stuck sweeping streets until the day they die, look again at King’s quote: “If you are called to be a street sweeper…” This means if you’re called to it, that makes the job important. Besides, lots of jobs are looked down on. Many women will say that being a stay-at-home mother is comparable to sweeping streets, but my mom follows her calling with such joy and grace that all who see her are envious of her occupation. Perhaps your attitude will also be one that makes others stop to say, “Here lived one who did his job well.”

Sometimes I randomly browse my bookshelf in my bedroom and read parts of my books. Recently I found this gem of a quote from The Return of the King by J.R.R. Tolkein:

“If you must go, then allow me to ride in your following.” she said. “I can wield a sword, and fear niether pain nor death.”
“What do you fear, lady?” Theoden asked.
“A cage. To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recalls or desire.”

The woman speaking is Eowyn of Rohirrim, unique because of the things she fears. I am fascinated by the character of Eowyn for her personality. My question when I read the above quote is, “Am I afraid of doing nothing as Eowyn is?” The cage she speaks of isn’t literal, but figurative. What she means is that she can’t stand the idea of not doing anything heroic with her life. I find that just the opposite is true for me: I’m happier to stay on the safe side of things than I am to step out and take risks. Eowyn, however, is actually scared of being on the safe side of things all her life.

Last weekend, my dad took Lydia and me to a speech and debate tournament in Salt Lake City, Utah. Both of us were thrilled to advance to the final level of competition while there. Lydia advanced in her original oratory speech on “family creativity”. I took sixth place at the tournament in impromptu, a speech where I am given two minutes to prepare a speech on a topic, and give a five minute speech with no notes. In my final round, I addressed the topic of “Nick of time”. Among my examples of people who had to do things that were in the nick of time–like Queen Esther and Huckleberry Finn–I told my audience that our lives are only here for a small amount of time, and we need to treat each moment like it is the nick of time. I challenged them with the lyrics of a song that came on a CD Lydia gave me for Christmas:

I have everything to lose by not getting up to fight
I might get used to giving up, So I am showing up tonight
I am my own enemy, the battle fought within my mind
if I can overcome step one I can face the 99.

Superchick, the band that wrote and performed the above song, is one of my favorites because they always sing songs that challenge you to think about how you are living. What’s important when we look at the song and the story of Eowyn is that we realize that they have a new perspective. That perspective is about fear. Eowyn’s perspective was so unnatural that the king was inclined to ask her, “What do you fear, anyway?” I’ve found that it’s necessary to ask myself about risks. What am I risking by taking an action, and, more importantly, what am I risking by not doing it? Perhaps, if I don’t say anything on the subject of something I care deeply about, my reputation will be different. By not telling my friends that I sincerely believe something, I risk them thinking that I’m one who is afraid of speaking out. That’s a risk I’m afraid of.

So when I take a fresh look at the perspective of all my actions, I have got to make sure I know that every thing I do has risks and things to be afraid of. The main thing is that I choose not to be afraid.

“For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.”   – Romans 8:15

This is my introductory post, giving everyone here a basic idea of what you’ll be reading and what kinds of things I’ll be discussing.

There will be a few different categories of things that I’d like to start with:

1. everyday life. These posts will include things that have been going on, updates on events, and other basic day-to-day thoughts.

2. Operation Sisterhood is what we’ll call the second one. Basically, I’ll give updates on things I’m discovering in my relationships with my siblings, as well as any new ideas and helpful tips for other teens who are also concerned about building their families.

3. Reflections on media. This involves what I’m learning in my Bible study, the books I read, the music I hear, the movies I watch. I’ll try to include reviews on things, good vs. bad media intake that I’ve recently found, and most importantly what I’ve learned.

Looking forward to beginning a year with blogging!

–Cynthia