Freddy Francis

Today I found out that one of my campers, Fred Francis, passed away. He was in his eighties and had been coming to camp for longer than I've been alive. I don't think I've ever met a more adorable, funny, and all around wonderful old man. The stories are endless, and like all camp counselors I store up little treasures of memories I've had with each of my counselors because I never know when I won't see one of them again.
When you work with people with disabilities, you get to see some of the fragility of life, and yet, in that fragility are some of the most beautiful moments you may ever have the chance to experience. Moments that simply slide by because you can't really grasp the importance of them while you're living them. Its these moments that I've come to treasure in my heart as the times when I really lived. I can't explain it, except to say if you've ever had an experience like it, you'll know what I mean. I can't help but be touched by the people who have so shaped who I am today. Fred Francis was one of those people, though he may never have known what an impact he had on me. His life is one of many that has given me hope and joy (italian accent, glasses, singing opera, what more do you want?) and a dream that maybe some day I can give back what I have been so graciously given. So he sits now in my heart pocket, as Ellen Pew would say, to remind me of the reasons why I want to be a social worker.

greyishness that maybe isn't even grey

Have you ever wished that everything was black and white? Or wondered if maybe everything really is black and white and we just can't see it? Are ethical dilemas really there or do we just not have eyes to see things the way they really are? Or maybe we do, and thats why we have the dilemas in the first place? If everything really is black and white is that a good thing or a bad thing? And if its not then is that ok too? I'm no good at understanding most of these thought processes because I've been raised to see things as black and white, yet understand the world so much better in terms of perspectives, but want to somehow combine these two concepts to a way of black-grey-white. Not sure though...
I seem to be caught in this what I like to call "dance around in the middle of every issue" stage, which bothers me because I've also been raised to take a firm stance on something. Know something and defend it. Instead I feel as I wallow around in wishy-washy not-sureness. But at the same time, if I understand where another side is coming from, its really hard to say they're wrong. And yet, I have to think that some things in this world are just plain wrong. Like murder (not that I know many people who defend this). uh...I guess this is where discernment comes in...

needing theology?

I have a lot of thoughts recently about hell/ God's goodness/ how maybe the reason we have theology and so many different sections of the church is that we need these different interpretations of our faith, not the other way around. I don't really like saying that because it seems really liberal to me, but the more I examine my own life, the more it seems to be true. Except for I started out thinking I would find predestination to be objectively true or not, and wound up six years later realizing that maybe the reasons I believe in predestination run a little deeper than whether or not it is objectively true. I can honestly say that I hated the idea when I first heard it, and I searched and searched and searched for over a year to make some sense of something I found to be so horrible. And then once I did decide it to be true, I spent the rest of the time begging God that I be one of the elect. I know firsthand how destructive believing in predestination can be. But then when I actually experienced the concept of predestination on a practical level, I realized how beautiful it was. Maybe it was selfish of me to believe in a doctrine that says some human beings are ordained to hell because it brought comfort to me, but I think I can safely say that without believing in predestination, I might not have made it through the past two years. There were moments in which the only reason I somehow didn't cut myself were because I believed that God had control of my future, and that he would use these hard, difficult times to shape me for the better. I had to cling to this concept that God refines us by fire, that he doesn't just watch what happens and can't offer any immediate aid or help. My God had to be one that could heal me through this, bring me through and transform me into a beautiful child when all around me I saw only despair. And so, I see evidence of God working in my life through predestination, I see him entering into my suffering, and bringing me through it by allowing me to cling to a belief no matter how "right" or "wrong" it is.

So now it gets down to the tricky part. I guess I would have to say if this rings true in my own life, then the doctrines that everyone else around me believes are somehow the way in which God works in their lives. That even if they prove to be unfounded, these doctrines are a means of God's grace in the world to us. But is there a line then? Is there a point in which you cross from God's grace into a false understanding of God that negatively affects your faith? This is my point of struggle this year. If this line exists, where is it? And how do I love individuals who have crossed that line in my mind, but yet so evidently love and worship the God of the Bible? How can I reconcile all these things?

At some point I believe we reach a place where questions and doubts and an inability to grasp these concepts can't help us anymore. At some point we have to simply believe. For me, it’s nice to know that I don't have the ultimate authority in the universe, that I am subject to a God, who however you choose to define it, is good. It is this good God that we will stand before, and it is he who will finally decide how all these things work out. It doesn't make it any easier for me. Sometimes its harder, but I have also found that in surrender and obedience there is great joy. But that's a story for another day.