Below you will see my hockey game schedule that has finally been determined (I can't believe I'm doing this--posting this, that is). My home ice is Augsburg College ice arena.
November 4th -- home, 6:30 November 11th -- home, 8:30 November 17th -- away (STMA), 9:15 November 20th -- away (Edison), 8:45 November 28th -- away (Pleasant), 8:50
December 2nd -- home, 7:45 December 8th -- away (Mounds Pond), 10:00 December 9th -- home, 8:00 December 16th -- home, 6:00
January 13th -- home, 7:15 January 20th -- home, 6:00 January 27th -- home, 6:00 January 28th -- away (Richfield), 2:30
February 20th -- away (Apple Valley), 9:45 February 23rd -- away (Richfield), 6:15 February 24th -- away (Chaska), 10:15
Jen1: "Hm, it says PDT...What does that mean again?" Jen2: "Puff. Daddy."
UPDATE Hen: "My throat isn't sore, my glands aren't enlarged, and my liver isn't swollen. I think I'm ok."
Apparently, this is my "you had to be there" quote post. Here's another one I've been inclined to repeat all day.
Get Fuzzy: "Blimey, this is a cracking banger, innit? Right, wrap your laughing gear 'round this, mate."
Having no idea what this jolly means, I can't help but smile and swoon as it sounds fantastic in a British accent.
UPDATE YET AGAIN Frank: "I'm going to get on this quote board one of these days."
How's that? That quote was just added 'in a pinch.' You've had far better quotes that I would have added were they readily accessible to me at this current time.
Though not knowing what prompted me to start this (maybe Tim's post on Redefining Arminianism, or possibly a recent conversation I've had with a newly acquired friend), I decided to record some thoughts on a topic that is rather prevalent in my estimation. I'm not even sure where this post will end up by the time I'm finished. It may be a narrative of my recent history, or perhaps it'll simply be my take on what may be referred to as "The Fine Line." Actually, it'll probably be a little of both.
A background of my Christian walk, I suppose, is in due order.
I grew up in a wonderful home with my parents and younger sisters. Beginning in my family with my great-great(-great?)-grandparents, my lineage has been raised to know Christ. How wonderful to be brought up with Christian parents and grandparents, and to hear stories of their parents and grandparents loving Jesus and serving the Lord. I am so thankful!
Growing up and going to my family's "home church," I naturally assumed that what I learned there about God and our relationship to Him, the Bible, and salvation, over the course of my 10-year attendance, was the "norm," the truth of Christianity. It was what I heard everywhere in the Christian community. I learned that salvation is predominantly about us. We can have a personal relationship with God through Jesus because of the work done on the cross...for the principal purpose of...having a relationship with God. That was the end for which salvation worked. It was about us. We accepted Jesus into our hearts because God was a little needy. Maybe so much as lonely. He loved us to the extent of loving us because of ourselves.
An example would be in my early years in Sunday school and learning about Noah and the Ark--it was a story about Noah and the Ark. Not about the holiness of God and the vileness of man--it was not a relaying of "God judges the world and sends a flood." There was a smidgeon mentioned about the mercy of God in keeping for Himself a "remnant," but for the most part that portion was as a "backdrop" to the main character of the story. At the same time, we also learned about the omniscience and omnipotence and omnipresence of our God. Hm, confusing...not that I realized the paradox at the time.
On a personal level, during my youth, my Bible was a crack-open-twice-a-week-while-at-church book for a verse here and there. Additionally, I would have the quintessential summer church camp highs, but they would slowly diminish back into the prosaic manner of living the "good church girl" life of outward form and inward lukewarness. This continued primarily through highschool and college years.
A few years ago, I started to attend a College and Career Bible study group unassociated with my church. Learning so much from the teaching pastor there and being surrounded by Christians very passionate about the Word of God, I began to grow in my faith. A desire was lit in my heart to read the Word more and memorize Scripture. I also increasingly loved learning about Biblical things. Though not entirely solid in their theology, my time in this group was certainly a catalyst to where God was then leading me.
Though not knowing a great deal about the church or its pastor, I decided to check out Bethlehem Baptist. And I simply fell in love. With the church. With the people. With the passion there for stating, unabashedly, solid Biblical truths. I'd go to church on Sunday mornings and Pastor John Piper would get up in the pulpit and candidly, fervently lay down truth like I had never heard before that struck me to my core.
Concurrently, I joined a brand new BBC small group, as well as faithfully listened to Desiring God on the radio (when it was actually aired on the radio) in the mornings. These two things brought about my acceptance and embracing love of the doctrines of grace, commonly abbreviated in the word Calvinism.
Upon joining the small group, I heard the word "Arminian" for the very first time. After having it explained to me, I realized that that was what I had grown up learning for the most part. It was then presented to me how that view is unbiblical and how Calvinism gloriously abides by the truth of Scripture, as well as duly brings the most glory to God. The nail that powerfully "drove it home" was one half hour sermon clip one morning on DG radio. Is God for Us or for Himself? It was the first time that I had heard that everything everything was solely for the glory of God. It was the first time hearing about God's own God-centeredness--and it was simply magnificent! It floored me. This is the God to be praised and worshipped - He will not give His glory to another.
Having embraced Calvinism, helpfully remembered by the acronym TULIP, I recalled to mind what I had been raised to believe. I realized that I had held to the "Fine Line" concept, wherein God played a major role in my salvation, but I held the remaining 1% responsibility in choosing God, in choosing salvation. Apparently, I believed that I was Mostly Dead, or terminally ill, in my trespasses (but wait, that's not it). Put another way, I held to D A I S Y.
Depraved, but not so bad really Atonement for all Inclining myself to grace Salvation unless I blow it You meet the conditions and you're elect
(Mad props to Mr. Larsen for brilliantly composing this tongue-in-cheek riposte.)
The situation wherein we carry partial responsibility in claiming our salvation, we also receive partial glory. It also renders Ezekiel 36:22-32 as null and void. Hearts of stone do not have the ability - by definition - to transfuse life into themselves. Salvation is entirely the work of the Holy Spirit in quickening our hearts to the truth of the Gospel - replacing those cold, indifferent hearts lodged in our rotting corpses with hearts of flesh.
Additionally, a man-centered belief of salvation is blasphemous. Numerously, God makes perfectly clear His intention for saving His people - His namesake. His namesake, His glory (and our joy, but that's a different post). How can we say "far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ" (in essence, I have no basis of boasting; I boast only in the cross [my weakness and inability to obtain righteousness before God without a savior and mediator]), if we are yet insistently trying to boast in our fractional ability to acquire salvation? It doesn't make sense.
Ezekiel 36:26-27 And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit within you, and cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to obey my rules.
Romans 8:29-30 For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified.
Psalm 106:8 Yet he saved them for his name's sake, that he might make known his mighty power.
It's presently occurring. There'll be no "take two."
Sometimes I get in the mindset that "once things settle down in my life and I can get my feet on the ground a bit more, then 1.) my relationship with God will be far more vibrant, or 2.) I will really start to get very vocal about my faith to co-workers, or 3.) my character will improve in spades, or 4.) I can start concentrating on certain other things" or something along those lines. Only problem with this thinking is that, first of all, I can't bank on the future, far less so a pat and comfortable future. God never promised me tomorrow. Additionally, He never promised me clear sailing while here on earth.
There was a good point I was going to make and I completely forgot it. How about you guys? Have any good points you can make with the start of my post?
Today is the last and only October 18, 2006 we're ever going to get. How have we spent it?
"But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called 'today,' that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin."
Who saw the blizzardy snow this afternoon? It was thrashing white out there! When I finally realized it was snowing outside - and just how hard it was falling, I had an 8.5 reaction on the Richter Scale in terms of what some might call a "giggly moment." Which of course was more than slightly awkward seeing as how I am here among the prairie dogs of Corporate America. They just don't understand. (How emo was that?)
Actually, I'm still kind of reeling. When one gets that high of an adrenaline rush, it doesn't hastily fade.
I hustled to the window and accidentally smacked my forehead against the glass in my exhileration. (Should I be embarrassed about admitting that?) Then I rushed back to Tracy standing at the file shelves who, upon seeing me approach her with little decorum or restraint in my enthusiasm - fearing I might just tackle her, exclaimed in jest, "Don't touch me! Get away from me, Jen!"
Tracy and I often tease each other regarding our tastes in seasons - one in abhorrence of summer heat/humidity (me), and the other in repugnance of winter chill/precipitation...which just happens to be snow here (Trace).
Today she said to me, "I'm happy for you, but I'm sad for me." (I win...I usually do about this time of year.)
And in honor of my family's tradition - on the first snow of the year, tonight we will build a cozy fire, and all set in to watch White Christmas (with Danny Kaye and Bing Crosby). We've done this every year since as long as I can remember.
"I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, just like the ones I used to know..." (Fun thing is - I know that song in Swedish too!)
It is very exciting to see it snow just knowing that snowboarding season is just around the bend. More over, I love the first snow that stays on the ground and accumulates and turns my city into a breathtaking winter wonderland.
Though far and above those thoughts is this: that every single snowflake is matchless. The creativity of our God is positively astounding. And to think that I was capable of finding delight in the flurry of snow this afternoon because 2000 years ago Jesus the King humbled himself, came to earth, and died on the cross - for my sin in my place before the righteously wrathful Father, and then rose again - victorious over death. Because of this, snow seems so much sweeter.
Eagerly awaiting to someday experience the joys of marriage, I occasionally find myself thinking fondly on the delight I imagine it will be submitting to my husband.
A juncture that transpired within this last week prompted closer examination of these aspiring thoughts--more specifically, noting the direct connection between submission to my parental units now and submission to my husband in the future. Taken from the book Her Hand in Marriage by Doug Wilson is a quote that was brought to mind.
We sometimes assume that as girls grow up they are to be treated in the same fashion as sons. This is false--in scripture, sons leave home, daughters are given. This is the scriptural pattern. A son leaves in order to take a wife, and establish a new home. A daughter is given to a young man who is establishing such a home. The idea that a girl can get to the age of 18 or 19, and leave her father's house in order to be out on her own is not scriptural. She remains under the authority of her father--even if she is physically away from home--and then when she is given in marriage, she comes under the authority of her husband. This is the normal scriptural pattern. (p. 21)
Having not yet been "given in marriage," my role right now is submitting to my parents, as I am still under their authority, as well as under the command of 'honor your father and your mother.' Realizing the distinct correlation between my submitting in my father's house and later in my husband's house, I perceived a general lacking in the execution of the former. When directed to do something (or to not do something), often my heart attitude is to feel wronged and stifled. Yet with the head knowledge of the parental honoring commandment, I would "submit," resentful, and simply acquiesce to their instruction.
When I was startlingly convicted of this last week, I reluctantly looked at my heart and attitude that I've developed towards many of my parents' instructions. Yielding acrimoniously is not submission. Done in a wrongful attitude of bitter indignation, the act of assent should not be thought of as an act of submission, but rather as a self-righteous move of compliance, as if in order to "fulfill the Law."
(I'm defining "comply" as an action of following orders simply for the reasoning that it is required obedience -- done with anger, distinctly separate or opposing desires from those that are instructing, eagerness for "liberation" from strict dictation, &c.)
Now, it is not my intention to split hairs or to get wrapped up in the semantics of the English language, but rather to address the heart of the issue...which would be the heart.
I think a true, though probably not entirely comprehensive, definition of submission would be that done "as to the Lord" (that's a toughone to figure out, huh?), respectful and pure motives, actions done with a gentle and quiet spirit, devoid of grumbling, and done with joyfulness and gladness of heart!
Also, directly opposing the prideful attitude of "fulfilling the Law" with the outward motions of compliance, would be an attitude of humility, knowing that submission is not a humanly possible act to manufacture, yet one required of us. It is one done only out of a lowly spirit, dependant on the grace of God through the Holy Spirit, possible because of Jesus' substitutionary, atoning work on the cross. (What? The Gospel's applicable in this too? Nooo...)
These thoughts, this whole concept really shouldn't be so noteworthy as to provoke me to write about it as if I'm newly discovering something, because it seems to me so basic a lesson to the core of (feminine) Christian living that it's almost disturbing that I haven't long ago mastered the art. And yet, it's something I am surely in need of further learning and living out day-to-day.
Ahh, let the abiding work of sanctification continue, Lord...
These last few autumn days have been incredibly gorgeous. The epitome of perfect weather. So mind you, I am not ready for these days to be over. But I am so ready...
Well, we're going to give it a shot. I don't know why, but I just feel like posting this one. Stop me if you've heard this one before.
_____
One day, a husband and wife were arguing about who would be responsible for making the coffee in the mornings. The husband was adamant: "You should be the one making the coffee; you're the woman!" The wife responded: "You're the first one up in the morning; why don't you just make it when you get up?" He replied: "The kitchen is woman's work..." Her retort: "Pfft, the Bible even says the man should make the coffee!"
This he had to see. "Prove it!" he challenged her. She went and retrieved her Bible, flipped back a couple pages, and there in big, bold, black letters - it read...
Ahh, what a little black tea can't do for the soul...
Ok, so, a lot. It has no redeeming power, it has no inherent truth, and its comforting grasp reaches only so far.... But, oh! A little loose leaf British Breakfast tea from The Republic of Tea brand does wonders in that "little touch" when eyelids are fixedly at half-mast and others can almost perceptively hear the whirring of your brain trying to function past the cobwebs that have comfortably lodged themselves among the folds of the gray matter.
'Twas my reaction upon realizing I was on the back of my church's weekly newsletter.
How awkward.
So, I have a "PO Box" address for my snail mail, and I hadn't gone and picked it up in three weeks. (Oops.) So I had three Bethlehem Stars waiting for me yesterday when I retrieved my mail from the Post Office.
Upon arriving home, I began to look at the three different Stars. As I turned the September 12th one over (it was like it happened in slow-motion), I came to recognize a picture taken this past summer. Granted, no one else would probably recognize me as the picture quality wasn't exeptional; it wasn't even good. But there I was, front and center, among a few others of my small group, posed in front of a Walk for Life banner.
