Due to my illness, doing anything consistently has been very challenging.
I have posted every day (with a few minor exceptions usually because of internet service interruption) for the last 5 months.
This, for me, is no small feat.
It seems nothing short of miraculous compared to a time when I couldn’t even walk or remember to brush my teeth or pay my bills when I couldn’t remember my own birthdate or read a book because of extreme brain fog.
This is huge.
Whenever my posts cause arguments (usually on Facebook), someone will inevitably ask why I don’t stop posting about controversial topics. Just post positive stuff, they say.
Especially given how I physically respond to these arguments: the last time, I was tagged in an argument and I was accused of lying. My whole body started shaking and it took most of the day to get my adrenals to settle back down(it seems my adrenals keep putting out excess adrenaline after even a tiny bit of stress).
I’ve actually improved. At one point, a single Facebook argument could land me in bed for weeks.
No, I’m not exaggerating.
So why not just back down from the fight? Why not just post fluff and happy and rainbows and unicorns?
Let me tell you why.
I’m still here on this earth when I’ve had plenty of opportunities for God to take me Home: from the moment I was born not breathing to the multiple food-allergy-induced asthma attacks to the hemorrhaging that we currently have mostly under control. As I sit here typing this, I am waiting for a phone call from my doctor about antibiotics for a yet another kidney infection –the third one this year. The last one nearly required hospitalization (if I had insurance I probably would have gone to the hospital.) If it’s not one thing, then it is another.
I am not wearing rose colored glasses. I’m in bad shape. This body is worn and tired and broken.
But I’m still here.
God left me here for a reason.
He left me here with a gift of words. I know it’s a gift from Him because I didn’t do anything to get it. I’ve never even taken a speech class or anything beyond high school grammar.
This is all God in my life.
Stopping writing would be like burying my talents in the sand.
I don’t know how long I have, but by God’s grace, I’m hoping to use these gifts while I can, while I’m still here, while I still have the option to have an impact.
I fully expect to not live to be old. If God sees fit to preserve my life that long, then His will be done, but in the meantime, I’m going to shout His truth from this roof top I call my blog.
So why write about problems in the church?
I understand the reason for this question. There are so many unbelievers who need Jesus, why not go after those who need to be evangelized?
The Great Commission had more than one command. Everyone thinks about the “go” part, but our churches generally forget about the “discipling” and “teaching” part. If the churches teach, often time it’s basic stuff like how to lead someone to Christ (the “go” part) and not real, solid theology (the “discipling”).
My passion is discipleship.
Not just what we believe.
But why we believe it.
And how to distinguish true biblical teaching from false teaching.
This is unfortunately severely lacking in Christianity.
Why not leave this to someone else?
About the time I think maybe I should throw in the towel, I get a comment or private message from someone saying, “You said exactly what I’ve been trying to say and couldn’t put into words.” Or, “You explained exactly what I believe in a way that makes perfect sense.” Or, “I’ve never heard anyone explain it that way. It really made me think and completely changed how I think about this.”
It seems that God has given me a gift of expressing my beliefs clearly and succinctly.
I don’t think I can justify just hiding that light under a basket.
So, I’m going to keep writing.
I’m still determined not to do more health damage than is absolutely necessary to be able to teach and use my gift. So I’ll not be engaging in arguments or debates. I’ll still be deleting unkind or argumentative comments.
But I can’t keep quiet.
I remember something Jeremiah said in his book of prophecy. Now, I’m not a prophet and don’t claim to be, but what he said resonated with me. I identified with it.
“If I say, ‘I will not mention him, or speak any more in his name,’ there is in my heart as it were a burning fire shut up in my bones, and I am weary with holding it in, and I cannot.” Jeremiah 20:9
I remember back in high school when I attended a church with false doctrine (I’ve discussed this church in my post about fundamentalism). At that church, there was an expectation that you’d follow the legalism and pretend to be perfect. I didn’t, and I was mistreated for it.
I remember a time when I was weary of being ostracized or given the cold shoulder. I decided I just wasn’t going to say what I believed anymore. I wasn’t going to say when people were wrong biblically. I wasn’t going to defend the mistreated people. I wasn’t going to say anything. I was just going to go along with whatever was expected of me and not make waves.
Because, every time I said anything, someone got upset. By age 14, I had read the entire bible front to back (minus a few genealogies that put me to sleep) so I could see the errors in the false teachings around me at church. I could see it tearing the church apart.
But I was tired of people being angry at me, of going home from church and crying myself to sleep.
So I did. I conformed. I kept my mouth shut and didn’t mention God or the Bible or anything that I believed.
I did what was expected of me.
I stopped making waves.
It tore me up. It was like a slowly burning pot that would eventually boil over. Every fiber of my being cried out that I knew the truth, but I held it in. I said nothing.
I conformed to the pattern of that worldly church which is not what God had in mind for us.
His fire burned inside me, and I couldn’t contain it anymore.
I had to speak about Him.
I had to share what I believe.
I had to speak the truth.
If you’ve never experienced a passion for God’s truth like that then you wouldn’t understand.
That passage resonated so much with me that I had planned to name a future child Jeremiah after the prophet who millennia before I was born described exactly how I felt.
Unfortunately, that child never came, but the name is still very special to me.
So the final reason I’m not going to stop writing is because I can’t stop speaking the truth. I do it everywhere. In the car with my children. To my husband when he gets home from work. To my friends over IMs. To my mom over the phone. To the other moms at homeschool meetings. And now on this blog.
If I’m going to write, I’m going to write the truth as I believe it and I’m going to keep speaking His truth until He takes me Home.
How could I do any less?
How could I not use the time He’s given me to make as much an impact as I can?
If I die tomorrow, I want to know I did all I could to not bury that talent.
I want to hear “Well done.” I am not giving up or giving in.