Freshmen Are Awesome

So for me, the best part about Advanced was definitely hanging around the Freshmen. I mean, I played foursquare with them until like 2:30 in the morning. It cost me a Michael Ellis shoe to the face in the end, but I got to know Zack Dicky, the Tolers (hope that's right), Riley, and so many others. This weekend I saw a glimpse of their hearts, and what I found was hope and encouragement in the future of our BCM. Specifically, I mean the impact that we can have on the future, the impact that Christ can have through us. I've got one more year, and now I'm thinking to myself, "Let's really pass on the torch." Let's give it to the freshmen, all we can!

And thank you freshmen for leading us. It was definitely a reminder for me in humility. I am trying to lead people, but I am still a follower. In all of us being followers, we can still encourage each other in so many ways. Freshmen you did an amazing job last weekend. I had a blast!

Not For Beginners

So Advance has come and gone. This is only the second time we've even had a "BCM Advance" and I already feel like its become a tradition.

I hope everyone had as good of a time as I did. I lost a lot of sleep playing card games (Where my Mao players at?) but it was all worth it in the end.

When I think about the word "Advance" I can't help but think of "Advanced." It is, after all, a single consonant away. "Advanced" as in "Expert" or "not for beginners." Our topic this weekend was pretty advanced as far as retreats go. I've been to retreats on worship, on sacrifice, on nothing in particular, on evangelism, on general leadership, and more - but never have I been on a retreat about "Slingshot leadership." But maybe its not so tough after all. Maybe I've just made it too complicated.

It's pretty convenient that we would cover this on my (possibly) last Advance trip with the BCM. It makes me reflect on my three full years I've already had with the BCM and how things have changed. Did you know we were the Baptist Student Union when I first got here? I hope so. If not, then I really feel old.

This whole idea of propelling future leaders further than we can go in the first place has got to be instrumental to the idea of transient college ministry. One of our fundamental problems is that every four (or five) years, the BCM pretty much gets a brand new cast of faces. This has its pros and cons, but regardless, it is a reality. Since we know there will come a time in the near future when we are no longer a face among our peers, we must prepare those that come after us. This manifests itself in a number of ways: encouragement, small group leadership, mentorship, giving others an opportunity to lead, frienship, being a follower first, and more. We have come not only to make a mark on our campus now, but to prepare those that will one day make their own mark. It's a ripple effect, and we may never know the true extent of our actions (till heaven! woo!).

The key is, it's relational. Our ministry here can be fun, friendly, and still powerful. As we sharpen each other, we prepare each other for the rest of our lives.

I hope that the younger people at the BCM who came to the retreat were as encouraged by the weekend as I was. I realize that not all of you may have stepped into "leadership" roles just yet, but I wanted to say that you have our support. I also wanted to remind you that leadership can come without titles. I am continually amazed and encouraged by the enthusiasm, faith, and courage that you pump into our ministry. Your leadership can turn this campus upside down.

That's not to say that we're done here. There is much left to do, and many things left to learn. I look forward to doing so side by side with everyone.

Is Anger Ever Ok?

Is it ok to get angry with God? Is there ever a time when anger is justifiable and/or considered OK or even good? Is there such a thing as righteous anger? Are all forms of anger OK as long as the correct action is taken to deal with them? Or is it ALWAYS a sin to get angry, especially with God?

Just something I've been dueling with for awhile...I'd love to hear thoughts if anyone wouldn't mind sharing. I've got plenty of thoughts on the topic but I hate to bias people or be biased too much before I hear their thoughts first haha

On a different note...

Advance was amazing.

I am so excited / nervous to pray over and decide where I want to apply for leadership at the BCM and I'm so glad I went on Advance. I hope everyone else is feeling the same way because I think we can really expect awesome things from the BCM the rest of this year and next year. I feel like there's so much potential for each of the vision teams for next year. We've already come so far with them this year that I feel like next year will only be better and better. Thank you to everyone who really put their effort and care into this short weekend, especially the freshmen. I absolutely LOVE freshmen ministry and I LOVE freshmen (in a very non creepy way haha) and I just think that everyone did a great job of stepping up and really showing what kind of young leaders the BCM will have next year. Thank you to all the upperclassmen who prayed over the underclassmen...if nothing else I know that meant a lot to me and really encouraged me to be excited and ready for a leadership opportunity...wherever God leads me. I encourage EVERYONE to look over the leadership application info and really seriously consider where you can get involved or remain involved at the BCM. I can't wait to see where we all are this time next year. Thanks everyone and I hope everyone else's Advance experiences were as awesome as mine. Be in prayer. Constantly. I need to be in prayer WAY more.

Darwin's Birthday

So I was reading a little bit at the Institute for Creation Research website. If you haven't ever been there, definitely go check it out. It's what one calls real science. So I was reading, and I discovered that the month of February houses Charles Darwin's birthday. Yay, right? Then I discovered that people across the globe are throwing big parties to celebrating Charles Darwin and his theory of evolution. "Hang on", I thought to myself. "Why does Darwin get a big birthday bash? What about Newton or Einstein, or Kepler and Galileo, why don't they get parties?" What's so special about Darwin? I thought some more. And here it is.

These people are celebrating Darwin and the separation of humanity from the oppression of religion, and not just any religion, but Christianity which is the only belief out there that gives any kind justification of where everything came from and why. But don't people know what they are cheering on really? I'll tell you. It's hopelessness. Yay, we're all decendants of monkeys created by random chance. We have no spirit, no eternal purpose, and when we die... well, we don't know. We guess we'll be nothing.

It saddened me to read this. Nihilism is a terrible and hopeless situation. If I could meet one of those guys, I think I would ask them, "Why are you excited that you are worthless and your life is meaningless?" Dear people, do you even know what you are saying? Don't you just want to tell such people about Jesus? Here! Live for something, love for something!

Lord, reveil to these people their folly. Open the eyes of their hearts to Jesus. And give your sons and daughter boldness to speak the truth of your name. Amen.

Welcome Back, Duke by Peggy Noonan

When I read this I about cried. I felt a spirit rise up in me that wanted to fight something, something evil. I have seen sissyness in my own life and I'm tired of seeing it. I wanna be like the Duke! It reminds me so much of Wild at Heart. Man, God, kick my rump off that chair and build me into a better man.

Here is Peggy's article---

Welcome Back, Duke
From the ashes of Sept. 11 arise the manly virtues.

Friday, October 12, 2001 12:01 A.M. EDT

A few weeks ago I wrote a column called "God Is Back," about how, within a day of the events of Sept. 11, my city was awash in religious imagery--prayer cards, statues of saints. It all culminated, in a way, in the discovery of the steel-girder cross that emerged last week from the wreckage--unbent, unbroken, unmelted, perfectly proportioned and duly blessed by a Catholic friar on the request of the rescue workers, who seemed to see meaning in the cross's existence. So do I.

My son, a teenager, finds this hilarious, as does one of my best friends. They have teased me, to my delight, but I have told them, "Boys, this whole story is about good and evil, about the clash of good and evil." If you are of a certain cast of mind, it is of course meaningful that the face of the Evil One seemed to emerge with a roar from the furnace that was Tower One. You have seen the Associated Press photo, and the photos that followed: the evil face roared out of the building with an ugly howl--and then in a snap of the fingers it lost form and force and disappeared. If you are of a certain cast of mind it is of course meaningful that the cross, which to those of its faith is imperishable, did not disappear. It was not crushed by the millions of tons of concrete that crashed down upon it, did not melt in the furnace. It rose from the rubble, still there, intact.

For the ignorant, the superstitious and me (and maybe you), the face of the Evil One was revealed, and died; for the ignorant, the superstitious and me (and maybe you), the cross survived. This is how God speaks to us. He is saying, "I am." He is saying, "I am here." He is saying, "And the force of all the evil of all the world will not bury me."

I believe this quite literally. But then I am experiencing Sept. 11 not as a political event but as a spiritual event.

And, of course, a cultural one, which gets me to my topic.

It is not only that God is back, but that men are back. A certain style of manliness is once again being honored and celebrated in our country since Sept. 11. You might say it suddenly emerged from the rubble of the past quarter century, and emerged when a certain kind of man came forth to get our great country out of the fix it was in.

I am speaking of masculine men, men who push things and pull things and haul things and build things, men who charge up the stairs in a hundred pounds of gear and tell everyone else where to go to be safe. Men who are welders, who do construction, men who are cops and firemen. They are all of them, one way or another, the men who put the fire out, the men who are digging the rubble out, and the men who will build whatever takes its place.

And their style is back in style. We are experiencing a new respect for their old-fashioned masculinity, a new respect for physical courage, for strength and for the willingness to use both for the good of others.

You didn't have to be a fireman to be one of the manly men of Sept. 11. Those businessmen on flight 93, which was supposed to hit Washington, the businessmen who didn't live by their hands or their backs but who found out what was happening to their country, said goodbye to the people they loved, snapped the cell phone shut and said, "Let's roll." Those were tough men, the ones who forced that plane down in Pennsylvania. They were tough, brave guys.

Let me tell you when I first realized what I'm saying. On Friday, Sept. 14, I went with friends down to the staging area on the West Side Highway where all the trucks filled with guys coming off a 12-hour shift at ground zero would pass by. They were tough, rough men, the grunts of the city--construction workers and electrical workers and cops and emergency medical worker and firemen.

I joined a group that was just standing there as the truck convoys went by. And all we did was cheer. We all wanted to do some kind of volunteer work but there was nothing left to do, so we stood and cheered those who were doing. The trucks would go by and we'd cheer and wave and shout "God bless you!" and "We love you!" We waved flags and signs, clapped and threw kisses, and we meant it: We loved these men. And as the workers would go by--they would wave to us from their trucks and buses, and smile and nod--I realized that a lot of them were men who hadn't been applauded since the day they danced to their song with their bride at the wedding.

And suddenly I looked around me at all of us who were cheering. And saw who we were. Investment bankers! Orthodontists! Magazine editors! In my group, a lawyer, a columnist and a writer. We had been the kings and queens of the city, respected professional in a city that respects its professional class. And this night we were nobody. We were so useless, all we could do was applaud the somebodies, the workers who, unlike us, had not been applauded much in their lives.

And now they were saving our city.

I turned to my friend and said, "I have seen the grunts of New York become kings and queens of the City." I was so moved and, oddly I guess, grateful. Because they'd always been the people who ran the place, who kept it going, they'd just never been given their due. But now--"And the last shall be first"--we were making up for it.

It may seem that I am really talking about class--the professional classes have a new appreciation for the working class men of Lodi, N.J., or Astoria, Queens. But what I'm attempting to talk about is actual manliness, which often seems tied up with class issues, as they say, but isn't always by any means the same thing.

Here's what I'm trying to say: Once about 10 years ago there was a story--you might have read it in your local tabloid, or a supermarket tabloid like the National Enquirer--about an American man and woman who were on their honeymoon in Australia or New Zealand. They were swimming in the ocean, the water chest-high. From nowhere came a shark. The shark went straight for the woman, opened its jaws. Do you know what the man did? He punched the shark in the head. He punched it and punched it again. He did not do brilliant commentary on the shark, he did not share his sensitive feelings about the shark, he did not make wry observations about the shark, he punched the shark in the head. So the shark let go of his wife and went straight for him. And it killed him. The wife survived to tell the story of what her husband had done. He had tried to deck the shark. I told my friends: That's what a wonderful man is, a man who will try to deck the shark.

I don't know what the guy did for a living, but he had a very old-fashioned sense of what it is to be a man, and I think that sense is coming back into style because of who saved us on Sept. 11, and that is very good for our country.

Why? Well, manliness wins wars. Strength and guts plus brains and spirit wins wars. But also, you know what follows manliness? The gentleman. The return of manliness will bring a return of gentlemanliness, for a simple reason: masculine men are almost by definition gentlemen. Example: If you're a woman and you go to a faculty meeting at an Ivy League University you'll have to fight with a male intellectual for a chair, but I assure you that if you go to a Knights of Columbus Hall, the men inside (cops, firemen, insurance agents) will rise to offer you a seat. Because they are manly men, and gentlemen.

It is hard to be a man. I am certain of it; to be a man in this world is not easy. I know you are thinking, But it's not easy to be a woman, and you are so right. But women get to complain and make others feel bad about their plight. Men have to suck it up. Good men suck it up and remain good-natured, constructive and helpful; less-good men become the kind of men who are spoofed on "The Man Show"--babe-watching, dope-smoking nihilists. (Nihilism is not manly, it is the last refuge of sissies.)

I should discuss how manliness and its brother, gentlemanliness, went out of style. I know, because I was there. In fact, I may have done it. I remember exactly when: It was in the mid-'70s, and I was in my mid-20s, and a big, nice, middle-aged man got up from his seat to help me haul a big piece of luggage into the overhead luggage space on a plane. I was a feminist, and knew our rules and rants. "I can do it myself," I snapped.

It was important that he know women are strong. It was even more important, it turns out, that I know I was a jackass, but I didn't. I embarrassed a nice man who was attempting to help a lady. I wasn't lady enough to let him. I bet he never offered to help a lady again. I bet he became an intellectual, or a writer, and not a good man like a fireman or a businessman who says, "Let's roll."

But perhaps it wasn't just me. I was there in America, as a child, when John Wayne was a hero, and a symbol of American manliness. He was strong, and silent. And I was there in America when they killed John Wayne by a thousand cuts. A lot of people killed him--not only feminists but peaceniks, leftists, intellectuals, others. You could even say it was Woody Allen who did it, through laughter and an endearing admission of his own nervousness and fear. He made nervousness and fearfulness the admired style. He made not being able to deck the shark, but doing the funniest commentary on not decking the shark, seem . . . cool.

But when we killed John Wayne, you know who we were left with. We were left with John Wayne's friendly-antagonist sidekick in the old John Ford movies, Barry Fitzgerald. The small, nervous, gossiping neighborhood commentator Barry Fitzgerald, who wanted to talk about everything and do nothing.

This was not progress. It was not improvement.

I missed John Wayne.

But now I think . . . he's back. I think he returned on Sept. 11. I think he ran up the stairs, threw the kid over his back like a sack of potatoes, came back down and shoveled rubble. I think he's in Afghanistan now, saying, with his slow swagger and simmering silence, "Yer in a whole lotta trouble now, Osama-boy."

I think he's back in style. And none too soon.

Welcome back, Duke.

And once again: Thank you, men of Sept. 11.

Ms. Noonan is a contributing editor of The Wall Street Journal. Her new book, "When Character Was King: A Story of Ronald Reagan," will be published by Viking Penguin this fall. Her column appears Fridays.

Hey, guys. I just got on the blog. I wonder how many BCM people are actually viewing it? By the way, who is Beaz?

I "love" You, God

So this week at Connector, Larry Grays (Pastor at Midtown-Bridge Church) spoke. I thought he really hit some good points and really made me think about a lot of things. He mentioned at one point that a lot of people seem to focus on the phrase, "I love You, God." He pointed out that too much of our worship is focused on us - puts us in the subject. He said that God needs to be the subject of our worship at all times. This was big for me I think, because for a long time I've been struggling with the idea of becoming less of a "me-based christian". Everything I find myself talking to God about is me, my plans, my life, my comfort, my joy. How do I break this trend? My first response in reducing the me-ness of my prayer is to want to treat God like I would any other friend and to be like "Hey, God...what's up in Your life right now...what are you struggling with?" but then I realize that that is not at all going to work. God isn't just another friend that I should support or be there for...He is so much more than that and I don't give Him the credit of being so much more very often. "I love You, God"....do I really? What do I mean when I tell God I love Him? Sure, I love Him in that moment, but will I love Him 10 minutes later when things aren't going my way?
"Does Job fear God for nothing?' Satan replied. 'Have you not put a hedge around him and his household and everything he has? You have blessed the work of his hands, so that his flocks and herds are spread throughout the land. But stretch out your hand and strike everything he has, and he will surely curse you to your face." - Job 1:9-11
Satan is right as his comment applies to my life, as much as I hate to admit it. I "love" God whenever things are going well for me and when it's easy to "love" Him, but what do I do when I feel down or tired or selfish or discouraged? I curse His name. I get angry with Him and sometimes I even feel hatred towards Him. I turn away from Him and instead of turning to Him for comfort and realizing that He is the one who can get me out of this, I hide inside myself and my pride and my stubbornness and refuse to accept His help. I prefer to wallow in my "horrible life" instead of being strong enough to realize that God is never "at blame", but rather is the creator and controller of all. I have no right to EVER place "blame" on God. I don't have a right to even tell Him I "love" Him. I don't even really know what love is or what that incredibly powerful word is and I think I use it way too much. I think I'm going to try not to tell God I love Him until I really mean it...even if that never happens due to my horrible human fallibility. I hate the word love. It's digressed to such a meaningless term that is thrown around like it's nothing. I don't want to "love" God the way "love" is used today. I want to love God the way He loves me. But I can't do that unless He allows me to love Him that way. I'm confused...I don't feel like I'm getting anywhere...I don't feel like I have a close connection to God...I don't understand who God is - like really understand who He is. Should I look out for myself more? Should I not be a pushover anymore? or should I be less selfish and give more and more of myself to everyone around me? But how much can I give before I break? Why is it always about me? What does it really mean for God to love us? I'm tired of my relationship with God being all about ME and God...but what else can it be? Me and my small group and God? Me and my friends and God? Everyone and God? What about just God? How can God's relationship with me be only about Him? How does that happen? Where do I go next? Who am I supposed to be? Who does God want me to be? What does God want me to do? How does God see me? How does God view Himself? Do I really truly believe in God and have faith in Him? No, not completely. Is it possible to have complete, never wavering faith in God? God is too big and too crazy awesome for me to understand...why is He like that? Why would He make us incapable of understand how big He is...I guess I sorta feel like it would make more sense for Him to make us capable of understand who He is and how huge He is, just not be able to achieve anything even remotely close to Him. Why are we so incapable of understanding? Why did God create man? He doesn't need us. He doesn't need anyone / anything. Why? Why do we spend so much time in school and then most of us never use what we learned in school...why do we even care? Larry said something to the effect of that the only reason Jesus hasn't come back for judgement yet is because God is passionate about seeing lost people repent and give their lives to Him. Then why aren't we evangelizing our little butts off to we can quick get everyone to give their lives to God so that we can get to be with God as quickly as possible. Why do we waste our time with school and sports and life in general? What does it look like to give your life over to evangelizing? Why do I hate who I am? Why do I care who I am or what I think about myself. GOD is everything. What God thinks of me - that's what matters. What does God think of me? What does God think of this? Is it ok to be confident and proud of yourself sometimes? Too much...too much to think about...too few answers...too few people who care...life isn't about you, it isn't about me, so get out of your stupid freaking hole of me-based christianity and live for GOD...when you figure out how let me know...i might be interested in trying too

Valentines day should be a day celebrating God...just like every other day...celebrating that God loves us...whatever the heck that means...not the commercialized forced "love" holiday it's become...I hate the very idea of earthly "love"

Dear God,
I love...errr I mean...God...I have nothing to say...nothing is truthful or even close to what is truth...I have nothing to say to you except....God...now how am I supposed to pray?