Refining Process

Frightening Revelation

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Thu, 26 Jan 2012 00:20:00 +0000

Wow. It's been a very long time since I've posted here. I guess I feel like I don't have much in the way of startling personal insight or the like. Though my husband blogs to work through the things he's thinking, I usually blog to express things I've already worked through.

This time, however, I'm going to share with you something that hit me just last night. So, forgive any lack of order, and here we go.

I was reading John Piper's Desiring God yesterday per Chris's suggestion. I had recently been telling Chris how I lacked joy in studying the Bible and praying, so he encouraged me to read through chapters five and six in Piper's book - the chapters on Scripture and prayer.

I found the chapters to be uplifting and helpful, and they brought me nothing but peace -- that is, until I reached a particular section of the prayer chapter. There, Piper was expounding on how prayer brings us happiness at the same time it brings God glory. As he put it (emphasis mine):

Prayer is the very heart of Christian Hedonism. God gets the glory; we get the delight. He gets the glory precisely because He shows Himself full and strong to deliver us into joy. And we attain fullness of joy precisely because He is the all-glorious source and goal of life. Here is a great discovery: We do not glorify God by providing His needs, but by praying that He would provide ours -- and trusting Him to answer.

Suddenly, I was stricken.

You might wonder why, and rightly so. The quote above is nothing but wonderful, right? I felt my heart fall, however, as I re-read the last sentence.

We do not glorify God by providing His needs, but by praying that He would provide ours -- and trusting Him to answer.

If you know me, you know how works-oriented I am, constantly thinking that I need to meet my Christian quota in order to earn or maintain God's love. You'd think I would want someone to debunk that myth for me. Many loved ones and mentors have tried. I always thought I wasn't getting over my works-guilt-complex because of some personal inability to do so, but on reading the aforementioned quote, I suddenly realized that I didn't want to get over the complex. I didn't want to pray for God to provide my needs and let him answer. I didn't want to glorify God, because I want to do it myself.

Because I want the glory.

After over ten years of being regenerate, how could it be that I still wanted glory for myself? Not only that, but that I wanted to deny God glory so that I could call myself self-sufficient? What dirty pride is caught up in that! I became humbled and ashamed of the state of my heart in this!

And yet now, in the midst of the shame, I feel a strange sense of joy, a warm flame building up inside me that reminds me: now that I know, I can change. This is the best place to start. Will I now pray to God for the power to change, or will I try to depend on myself, denying Him the glory so that I can say (if only in my own heart) that the transformation was all me?

I've talked a good talk about trusting God until now. Here I stand at the crossroads: I sin if I do not begin to walk these things out.

Walks in the Dark

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Tue, 25 Oct 2011 02:35:00 +0000

As I made the pleasant walk from the gym to my car tonight, I wound through the familiar shrubs and bushes nestled around the walls of the fitness center. I scuffled across a stretch of dry, brown ground, kicking up dust as I did. I crossed a quiet street, and passed a sleeping church and huddle of houses before reaching my vehicle.

I had made that walk many times before, but in the past, I felt fear.

From the summer of 2009 to the summer of 2010, I dealt with rampant fear in my life. Like a cancer, its mass spread from one area of my existence to another, devouring truth and implanting panic. For example, when I took walks like the one described, I experienced constant paranoia that someone would attack me. In addition, I was consumed by fear that I would be found un-beautiful by the world, so I indulged disordered eating behavior and rejected all affirmation from my husband. Also, I hated flying, because the idea of a plane crash made me pale with terror. The list went on. It was a difficult time, one of profound confusion and struggle.

I won't go into any more details now. Suffice it to say that God delivered me over the course of the year as I met with a Stephen Minister (lay counselor) at Wildwood Community Church, listened to the Word spoken and accepted the love poured into my life by loved ones.

My walk tonight reminded me, with a burst of clarity, of just how far God has brought me. I'm no longer scared of dark walks alone, nor am I a slave to bad eating habits and thoughts. I also dislike flying only for practical reasons now.

Can we say HALLELUJAH? God was so patient with me the entire time, which is material enough for an entirely new post! What I want to comment on right now, though, is how my past issue of fear branched out, in seemingly unrelated ways, so that I felt its effects holistically.

If you see a pattern of fear (or some other issue) cropping up in several different areas of your life, whether or not they seem connected, it is likely that you need to deal with the general issue of fear (or fill-in-the-blank) in your life. And by deal with, I don't mean grit your teeth and will yourself to do better -- I mean bring before our holy, healing God. For I know that he is the only one who can deliver us from ourselves.

To the dismay of my writer's mind, I don't have much of a conclusion to offer here. Just keep in mind that we see patterns in our thoughts and behaviors for a reason, and instead of trying to play whack-a-mole and kill off the different ways a bad thing manifests itself, we need to go after the thing itself.

The Imperfect Forgiver

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Thu, 20 Oct 2011 01:43:00 +0000

Strangely, I've only recently realized that God sanctifies our ability to forgive, along with the other aspects of our character.

Chris and I had just come to the end of a typical marital spat, probably involving a decorative pillow or something similarly random, when we both reached the point where we could say "I'm sorry" and mean it.

With our "sorries," of course, came our "I forgive yous" -- usually much easier words to make our lips form. Chris confessed his sin and asked my forgiveness. I told him I forgave him with a golden swell of purity and magnanimity in my chest. Just as I was basking in this feeling, the Holy Spirit gave me a nudge. Heart check! he urged. What is the origin of this feeling, as if you were being particularly charitable toward Chris when you had to ask his forgiveness of you not five minutes ago?

Suddenly, I realized the reason I was so amenable to forgiving Chris is because, deep inside, I believed that Chris was the only one who had done something wrong, even though I had apologized for sinning, too. I was happy to forgive only because I was happy that I had been the "good" one during the squabble -- the one who had been irreproachably holy -- while Chris was the sole perpetrator. Believe you me, dear reader -- that realization deflated the golden swell of purity and magnanimity in my chest real fast.

Yes, it's true that when I told Chris I forgave him, I was truly forgiving him. That's a good thing. However, the motive behind my eagerness was not because I wanted to exemplify Christ, who has forgiven me much, but because of the twisted belief that I was innocent and was doing Chris a favor. That's not a good thing.

After this incident, I spent time thinking about how even something like forgiveness, which seems so straightforward, is tainted by our sin. Because it is, we have to allow God to sanctify it. We have to recognize that, as is true of so many other things in life, we have not "arrived" at a place of perfect forgiving power. Even as we strive to forgive well, we will mess up when we act in our own power.

But rejoice, dear reader, for as always, the solution is not for us to will ourselves to do better next time. The solution is to look to Christ, who is our flawless example of how to forgive. The more we know him and seek him, the more we will become like him, and our forgiveness, along with the rest of our hearts, will become more sanctified.

A Heavy-Hearted Poem Written in the Park

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Mon, 26 Sep 2011 23:04:00 +0000

There is no guilt that I can bear,
For Holy God has given me
A final way to meet him, where
Christ Jesus's love brings sanctity.
Though pain and suffering I deserve,
Peace and fulfillment I receive;
And though my heart feels naught of verve,
My spirit nothing can bereave.
For hope is mine for all my life
And bliss secure in Christ's abode;
Companionship to bear the cross
And resting place to drop the load.

Why I Study

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Sun, 28 Aug 2011 15:33:00 +0000

When evangelical Christians say the word "doctrine," they may get a number of tacit reactions, including, but not limited to,

Immediate boredom
Thorough revulsion
Cavalier dismissal
Polite apathy

I used to be in the last category, but have done a 180 over the last few years. When I say doctrine, I'm talking about a deep and systematic study of the person of God, and the Biblical reasons for why we, as Christ-followers, do believe and must believe what we believe.

This goes deeper than rote memorization that could fit inside a children's Sunday School song -- it's persistent and careful study of the Bible, understanding of the beautiful implications of the Trinity, caring about the topics that the Word -- and therefore, God! -- cares about, and more.

Not that I claim to have studied the whole Bible thoroughly, or that I "understand the beautiful implications of the Trinity." Goodness, no. If you claim that, you either need to start teaching others how to do what you did, or let the Spirit convict you of your blatant lying problem. I kid, of course. Kind of.

But, I digress, dear reader! As I was saying, I don't claim any of those things, but I do make the acquisition a closer knowledge of God an ongoing pursuit. Doing that doesn't mean I have to become a major theological scholar, reading N.T. Wright books thicker than Oklahoma air on a warm and humid morning (in other words, it doesn't mean I have to become my sweet husband!).

It just means a lifelong study of GOD. It's not a study of the things that we choose to focus on about God, but on God Himself, who is infinitely multifaceted so that we never, ever, ever run out of new, amazing and breathtaking things to learn about him.

I'll admit -- the kind of Bible reading and spiritual study I did in 6th grade was easy, and extremely comfortable, most of the time. Getting from "polite apathy" to passion about doctrine was a long, and sometimes arduous or painful, process. It required many days of wrestling with what I thought I understood about God. It required some disagreement with other believers, and forced me to revisit basic topics.

I think some people are afraid of going through those things, as if they're bad. They're difficult, but as you know, that's not the same thing as bad! For some, maybe the journey won't be as difficult as it was for me, but it will at least stretch you. At the end of the day, though, when the fruit of your labor blossoms into a new depth of intimacy with Christ and a new, soul-deep passion and adoration of the Gospel of Christ, you will say, "That was SO worth it."

Friends, that's why I study, and why I hope you will, too.

Self-pity is not the same as repentance.

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 21:40:00 +0000

I think it's easy to see our chronic sin problems as pests and nothing more. When they buzz in our faces, showing themselves for what they are, we swat them away and feel sorry for ourselves that we have to deal with them.

For instance, I've had the following thought: "It's unfair that I have to dress so modestly. It's hard to do, and I don't look nearly as good."

I didn't recognize the sin of knowingly causing temptation, and of treating my body, which is "the temple of the Holy Spirit," with disrespect. I pitied myself instead, because it can be difficult and "uncool" not to conform to the world. Though I dressed differently, I didn't address my heart in the matter, so I didn't repent. I treated the symptoms instead of the root problem.

This is only one of a million examples, of course. The point is --

Repentance is a direct confrontation of the root problem.

When we truly repent, we will first recognize the seriousness of our sin. Action flows from recognition - our behavior will change once we see sin as God sees it. Recognition of sin demands a response, and we are in active rebellion when we choose to ignore the issue rather than go to God about it.

Oh, and I can already tell you what God is going to say - come to me, confess, repent, and be made more whole and more holy by the blood of Christ. Though we are already washed clean by Christ's blood so that we have spiritual life, we are being sanctified day by day while we are on this earth. Repentance is a huge part of sanctification. Let us embrace it, because only in Christ can something be simultaneously so difficult and so beautiful...

FAME

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Sun, 05 Jun 2011 23:47:00 +0000

Have you ever done or made something that gets you noticed by a handful of people you don't know? It's a heady feeling, perhaps especially if you're a people-pleaser like me. Well, after I made the video in my last post, I tweeted about it to two fairly large Wheel of Time groups, who subsequently re-tweeted the video to their many followers. This brought an influx of views to the video, though not perhaps as many as I [somehow] garnered for the last nerdy WoT video I made.

Silly as it may sound, it was a great feeling. As a person given to strong emotion, I was exhilarated. I was pleased with myself and anxious to see what kind of positive feedback I could garner.

But I've found that attention is much like a shot of espresso - after the high comes a slump that leaves me a mite debilitated.

Why would I feel debilitated? Because I want that same attention - all. the. time. In my heart is a secret, persistent desire for fame. That's one of the many reasons why it's easy for me to become discouraged about my writing - my subconscious is groaning for recognition, and being somewhere in the middle is not good enough. I want to shine, I want to be the star, I want to be at the top.

Moments of fleeting (and really very minor) attention like my video gained for me, and moments of dark hopelessness about a talent (writing) that's completely from God and pointless to fret about, reveal just how much I still live for my own glory. I look forward to the day when I can say, with all my heart, that I strive to excel for the sake of glorifying God alone. Of course, it's not like that day is a finish line that I'll cross once and never have to think about again. Such a dedication to glorifying God requires clinging to faith and fighting the flesh and Satan day in and day out. I pray that the Lord increase my eternal perspective to the point where I know, in the deepest part of me, that life lived for my own fame is death and emptiness wrapped in shiny paper, but that life lived for the fame of the Lord is a full one indeed.

Okay, Yes, I Did it Again...

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Tue, 31 May 2011 22:36:00 +0000

Another nerdy Wheel of Time video. Because the idea was just too fun to pass up.

Trust, Trust Not

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Tue, 31 May 2011 14:05:00 +0000

Today's reading in My Utmost for His Highest addresses the burning question I've held for years: how am I to trust people (let them in), yet not trust them (expect them not to let me down) at the same time? This is good stuff right here...

An excerpt from GOD FIRST

"Jesus did not commit Himself unto them...for He knew what was in man." John 2:24-25

Put God First in Trust. Our Lord trusted no man; yet He was never suspicious, never bitter, never in despair about any man, because He put God first in trust; He trusted absolutely in what God's grace could do for any man. If I put my trust in human beings first, I will end in despairing of everyone; I will become bitter, because I have insisted on man being what no man can ever be -- absolutely right. Never trust anything but the grace of God in yourself or in anyone else.

Riddikulus

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Mon, 30 May 2011 22:32:00 +0000

There's something to be said for laughing at our fears, as Harry and his classmates must do in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts class, the Hogwarts students come up against a boggart, which takes the shape of the thing they most fear. In order to combat it, they incant the spell Riddikulus! while thinking of a way to make their feared object into something utterly laughable (for example, Ron makes a giant spider funny by removing all its legs).

Neville makes his biggest fear look pretty ridiculous
in the Prisoner of Azkaban movie!

My fears are so often unfounded and get blown way out of proportion, not to mention that the nature of fear in the first place is that is is usually irrational. Wouldn't it be nice to be able to perform a riddikulus charm on fear of the future, financial anxiety, fear of being alone?

The great thing is, for those of us who are in Christ, we have that kind of defense. It's called the truth - that is, the Word of God - and it's not to be taken lightly. Our fears will come against us using all the negative power of our weak human mind, but we have a sure way to stop them where they stand.

Fear (of the boggart sort) is not from God. We are commanded to have faith instead. I'm reading in Mark right now, and one of his primary themes is faith as the antidote to fear. "Do not fear, only believe," he says in Mark 5:36, even as one of the greatest fears of humankind, death, lay before them.

We can have faith because we know the truth, and we can repeat the truth to ourselves because it's been given to us in the form of the Bible. Even if we can't think of a specific verse right off the bat to combat our fears at a given moment, we can remember the sure and unchanging character of God that we have learned. That he is good. Holy. All-knowing. Just. Compassionate. Merciful. Almighty.

And the legs fall off the spider, and the boggart retreats back into its dark box.

We can laugh, because the overwhelming perfection of Christ makes our fears look so small, and so, well, riddikulus. :)

Kitchen Observations

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Sun, 29 May 2011 23:39:00 +0000

One way I like to make cooking dinner more interesting is by reading the boxes I'm working with. Today's choice was Kraft Macaroni & Cheese. The last part of the blurb says this:

Inside this box you'll find the same deliciously gooey macaroni & cheese dinner you know and love... in fact, raise our new box above your head and announce to the whole store that you love it. Because you know you do.

Imagine how hilarious that would be.

Person walks over to the box in the grocery store, picks it up, reads it.

*ahem*

"I LOVE THIS!!!!!"

Person walks away.

Also, guess what? Our microwave has gone crazy. Keep it plugged in long enough, and it will spaz out sometime after 2 pm (or maybe I'm just imagining things) by spouting, "2! 2! 22222222!" After awhile you're like, okay, I get it, 2! and unplug it in wrath.

Bet your microwave doesn't do that!

Being Sick Has Been Nice...

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Sat, 28 May 2011 02:17:00 +0000

One thing about being sick is that it makes you stop. It's kind of a heady feeling to be freed from all obligations so that you can recover. It's like getting a day off from the world. With lots of salt water, medicine and tissues involved, of course.

The past few days that I've had pharyngitis have been surprisingly restful. I've slept a lot - when do I ever pass up a chance to do that? - as well as simply reflected a lot. My reflections have brought me many times into the long, vaulted hallways of spiritual meditation, which has been extremely good for me.

It can be hard for me to come face to face with God, particularly when I don't feel that I have anything to say to him. Things aren't unbelievably wonderful right now, nor are they painfully and dark. I'm not doing anything particularly special, nor have I learned anything lately that's turned my life upside-down. I'm just here, being me. What does God have to do with me being me? Me being me is frighteningly small and boring.

However, as I've started a second read-through of Oswald Chambers' My Utmost for His Highest and read in Psalms and Mark, God has simply reminded me how little I know of him, yet how much he loves me in my ignorance and wants to simply spend time with me. God's love is the biggest, most encompassing force I can imagine, yet I've managed (so I thought) to squeeze it into a neat little box in the corner of my mind labeled "For Further Intellectual Enquiry at a Later Date." It's no wonder I go around with a vague feeling of self-imposed loneliness.

So, yeah. I have this annoying habit of pushing love away when I see it being poured recklessly upon me. Now open the floodgates, Lord, and let me taste the joyful, heart-ful abandon of a life filled by you!

My First Audiobook

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Tue, 10 May 2011 21:53:00 +0000

I am proud to have studied under author Mel Odom for the last few years of my undergraduate studies. He is a talented writer, a superb teacher and a friend I greatly admire.

If and when I get my first book published, I intend to dedicate it to him.

Recently, Mel and I have collaborated on a project - recording an audiobook to accompany the novella he published on Kindle. The story is called The Affair of the Wooden Boy and is a colorful and exciting read.

Mel discovered that I can conjure up a "radio voice" when needed, and he thought it sounded great. He recruited me to record the audiobook version of his story for him, and now we're going to sell it on Amazon and see how it goes. It's a publishing experiment. Writers, you'll understand.

Check out the promo page that Mel set up, and listen to the first chapter of The Affair of the Wooden Boy!

Thoughts from a First-Time Harry Potter Reader

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Sun, 08 May 2011 01:33:00 +0000

Well, folks, the title is just what it sounds. I've never read Harry Potter before! Please, hold back your collective gasp! I'm a poser bibliophile is what I am, apparently. Instead of shunning me from your hearts and minds forever, though, perhaps you'd like to hear a few of my thoughts first?

Books vs. Movies

I'm not far into The Sorcerer's Stone yet. In fact, Harry has only just learned of his past from Hagrid, since those darn Dursleys (just thinking about them makes my blood pressure rise) failed to inform him that he is a wizard.

However, one thing is eminently clear - the Harry Potter movies are incapable of creating proper pathos for Harry.

[Pathos (n) - an emotion of sympathetic pity]

Surprisingly, since I sometimes sport the memory of a goldfish, I remember the first time I watched The Sorcerer's Stone. I recall that the Dursleys were annoying, and that Dudley was ugly. Honestly, though, the only thing I remember about Harry Potter is that he was smiling gleefully when his letters from Hogwarts came pouring through the fireplace. I had no sense of compassion or hurt for the fact that he was basically being abused by his family.

Reading the book, on the other hand, makes me want to cry for the kid. Shut up in the cupboard under the stairs, thinking a good day is a trip to the zoo where he is practically ignored...awful stuff.

You might be thinking, "The books is always better than the movie." While I cannot substantiate that statement, based on the principle delineated in the following scene in Napoleon Dynamite...

Napoleon: This is pretty much the worst video ever made.

Kip: Napoleon, like any one can even know that.

...I can say that I already see how seriously lacking my conception of HP characters is having only seen the movies. Some movies are able to communicate a depth of character that does the book some justice, but the HP series probably isn't among them. The story may be much too complex for that, or the movie making just not quite thoughtful enough.

I'll read on, and we shall see!

I Have Bruxism.

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Mon, 02 May 2011 03:08:00 +0000

That's right, folks; it exists, and I have it.

The Merriam-Webster definition of bruxism is "the habit of unconsciously gritting or grinding the teeth especially in situations of stress or during sleep."

This only started in the past three months or so. At first I thought I must be doing something awesome in my subconscious, like fighting velociraptors in my dreams, but it turns out that I just do it. When I'm stressed, when I'm not stressed, when I'm engaging in an apologetic tirade (which is a story for another time) or participating in a dance-off in my dreams, I grind my teeth so hard that it wakes up my poor husband most nights.

As I mentioned this to various friends, I was surprised at how many of them knew that Wal-Mart sells "dental guards" to ameliorate the effects of bruxism. Not that they used the term, but come on. I mean, how pervasive is this condition? For all I know, my college friends all have small boxes with molds shaped to their implements of chomping while I thought I was the only one in the world who was apparently so disturbed that I had to masticate the helpless folds of nothingness for hours each night.

Anyway, Chris and I went to Wal-Mart today, and I bought a dental guard.

I don't know why she's so happy to have one.
comfortchannel.com

Here's mine! Yusss.

This particular dental guard was roundabouts $23. Okay. Cool. Whatevs. The disturbing part was the packaging. In the upper-right corner was a picture of teeth - yes, just teeth - with a huge, 200-lb weight bearing down on them. "This is what grinding your teeth is like!!!!!!" the caption read (though perhaps it did not have 6 exclamation points, or any at all).

Greeeat. Not only have I not been fighting velociraptors, I've been putting a 200-lb weight on my teeth.

So, my exciting activity for tonight was boiling the guard to soften the plastic-like material, then shape it to my teeth. Now my "dentures," as I call them, are all ready to go when I feel like closing my computer and closing my eyes. I must say, this all makes me feel rather humbled. There's nothing like having a weird device to keep you from unwittingly doing something that's bad for you that you can't stop doing even when you want to to take you down a peg.

Anyhow, thus concludes another episode of my surprisingly normal odd life. If your teeth and jaw hurt in the morning and your "sleep partner" - as the package calls the unfortunate person who has to put up with the lovely crrrk crrrk crrrkkk your grinding teeth make - has especially dark circles under his/her eyes, you mighty have bruxism.

So then, dear reader, you should join me in my grand denture adventure.

A Song, in Sadness

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Mon, 18 Apr 2011 00:14:00 +0000

Special thanks to Emily Dickinson and William Ernest Henley
---

I’m like a bird that is losing her path
In the sky
I’m getting hurt by the same winds that helped me
To fly

And none of the things that have feathers
Perch in my soul
Singing the tunes without words,
Never stopping at all

How awesome is the darkness—
How deep the hopeless holes—
That shadows all the pathways
That barricades the roads!

They never quench my thirsting
Or wrap me up at night
So why does sitting in them
Still make me feel all right?

This is my turn, but the road’s looking long
Up ahead
How can I walk when my heart and my feet
Are like lead?

And sometimes the gates there look straight,
And no sins mark the scroll
Yet I do not master my fate,
Nor captain my soul

How awesome is the darkness—
How deep the hopeless holes—
That shadows all the pathways
That barricades the roads!

They never sate my hunger
Or tuck me in at night
So why does singing of them
Still make me feel all right?

All right...
All right...

Hope is a thing with feathers
With feathers, with feathers
Let these words fly, I’ll feel better
Feel better, feel better.
Hope is a thing with feathers,
With feathers, with feathers
Now it can land, and I’ll feel better
I’m better, I’m better...

A Rant About Facebook

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Thu, 07 Apr 2011 02:49:00 +0000

Well, it seems my blog has become unduly boring, dear reader, mostly due to the fact that I've consistently neglected it for the last few months. However, I do have some incendiary insights to share with you today, about your favorite topic (yes - I know all your favorite topics) -- Facebook.

Photo courtesy scrapetv.com

I am taking a Facebook hiatus. I know this may be a foreign concept to many, but let me explain.

In case you didn't know (I mentioned it to a teacher today, and he didn't know and found it rather hilarious), people over the last few years have taken to giving up Facebook for Lent. I think it's a good idea. It's not exactly why I'm taking a break, however.

In the midst of conversation with PJ and Katie, I discovered that I turn to Facebook when I'm having a bad day. I don't know why, for I certainly don't find solace there. In fact, Facebook, like good wine, is proven to be a depressor -- looking at the highlights of the lives of others certainly isn't going to make you feel great about your own lame, bad day, after all.

Because of this, I decided to see how I fared off Facebook.

Guess what?

I feel markedly better, and I've redeemed at least three hours per week.

That's not insignificant. Think about it.

Now, for a rant -- FACEBOOK HAS TOO MUCH POWER OVER OUR SOCIAL LIVES.

I'm serious! There's a flipside to the coin, of course, but I'm going to concentrate on the negative side for now. The advent of Facebook has created a relational phenomenon -- we now conduct our relationships in the public eye, often for the public eye.

When someone asks you out but doesn't subsequently post that he's/she's your boyfriend/girlfriend on Facebook, are you really, officially going out?

What's the best way to show that you're having fun in college? Why, post pictures, of course! Your old high school classmates are never going to know that you're having a great life unless you provide them with the all-important, indisputable proof of a photograph.

I'm only being a bit hyperbolic. Since I've gotten off Facebook, some people seem to think it equivalent to my showing up on a list of missing persons. Among the reactions...

A text message asking, "Jaimie!! What happened to your Facebook?!"

Uh... *shifty eyes* If I killed it, can we still be friends?

A text message from a friend I haven't heard from in forever: "Hey, I was thinking about you and just wanted to see how you were doing!"

My answer, suspecting the issue: "I'm doing well! I'm taking a break from Facebook if you were wondering what happened to me. :)"

Her answer: "That's exactly what I was wondering!"

>_> Oh. I thought maybe you were just asking because I actually came to mind out of nowhere. But the absence of my Facebook is important, too.

I know, I know. I'm being overly sarcastic, but you get the picture. I'm going to resume Facebook after Easter (not coincidentally, which is why Lent only partly plays into this), so it's not like I'm advocating a total shut-down. It does frustrate me, however, to see the effects that my leaving the Facebook world has on some people's peace of mind.

So, to all who were wondering: off-screen, my life goes on.

I promise.

Sometimes...

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Fri, 25 Mar 2011 20:27:00 +0000

Oh, Oklahoma...

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Sat, 19 Mar 2011 12:33:00 +0000

Transparencies, Fourth Part

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Mon, 07 Mar 2011 20:44:00 +0000

Ministry is hard. Sometimes, it's really frustrating.

I often fear that I'm damaging peoples' faith, not building it, but I know that's a lie from the enemy. If I share the word prayerfully, God is able to cover over my mistakes, I believe.

Sometimes, my ministry feels unusable and ignorant and stale.

But today I am one day more sanctified than yesterday. Today, Christ teaches me how to be more like him, and it is in him, not in my knowledge or ability, that I put my hope.

Death, and a Challenge

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Fri, 04 Mar 2011 17:59:00 +0000

I have a challenge for you.

First, read this Facebook note by my friend Emily. No, that is not the challenge - I've posted some of Emily's writing before, and if you haven't read it yet I think you'll find it elegant, frank and full of wisdom.

This particular note is about death, inspired after Emily's beloved Grandmother passed away and she began thinking about the whole situation in light of Biblical truth. It's spot-on, and it's stuck with me throughout the week. God has used it to remind me that worldly beauty - which, as you know if you've been reading this blog for a while, is something I put an inappropriate amount of stock and hope in - is nothing...at the end of my life, it'll be gone, and I'll have nothing to show for it.

There's more, of course, but I'll let you read it for yourself. My challenge is this: after you read the note, consider what you put your trust in. Not what you profess to put it in - what you actually do put it in when the scenes of life play out. Ask yourself: will it be there a the end? After I've lived, what will I have to show for it?

--- "Longing for a Better Country"

"It is better to go to a house of mourning than to go to a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart. Sorrow is better than laughter because a sad face is good for the heart." -Ecclesiastes 7:2-3

I would dare anyone to visit a nursing home and walk away prideful. They are halls of death, corridors where people come to await their final breath. The names on the doors represent lives...Jane...Norman...decades of life, no doubt, but what does it matter now? They are but shells of their former selves. Perhaps they used to run, but now they cannot even stand. Perhaps they once did great things, but now they cannot even eat without great effort. My heart and mind are sobered and I am taught.

As I pass through these halls, I know that all roads lead here. Whether our lives are marked by wealth, poverty, the extraordinary, or the ordinary, they all converge to this spot, to this door of death. How little we think about it and what a tragedy that is, for it is the destiny of us all and when we arrive, so many of us find that we have been deceived. All those comforts and achievements we fought for have betrayed us. We are left alone with nothing but the sound of the machines and a thin gown. We find that even our bodies have lied to us. We are not strong, for we cannot even sit up. We are not beautiful, for our flesh is deteriorating. We are not smart, for our minds have abandoned us to a dim fog.

These truths must be pondered in life to prepare for death. If we do, we find wisdom. We learn that "the world and its desires shall pass away, but the man who does the will of God will live forever." I John 2:17 And there is One in whom we can hope and trust who will not deceive us or desert us, but draws near to us as we draw near to Him. We must choose Him over the things of this world so that when we meet our common destiny, our hope does not vanish like the finals rays of day, but rather, grows ever brighter like the coming dawn.

Then we will not be surprised or hurt by the desertion of the things of this world, for we did not cling to them in the first place. The simple truth is that we will all die. We will all be humbled and brought low, but it is our choice of how and when. We can ignore this truth and reality and have all that we cling to ripped from our hands, leaving us alone and afraid in our final moments, or we can embrace wisdom. We can release our false hopes now, humble ourselves now, cling to Jesus now, and so someday, meet death not as a thief of all we hold dear, but as a giver of what we have hoped for, but not seen, the fulfillment of our faith.

I have been reflecting on what a strange thing it is for us to say that someone died, as if they did it on purpose, took some kind of action. In truth, living and dying are such passive acts that we have no say in. We do not choose to be born, not do we choose to die. Our hearts beat. We inhale. We exhale. But there is nothing purposeful in that, nor is there anything purposeful in ceasing to do so.

Yet, it occurs to me that there is a paradox here, a reality that so few come to face. In order to have any kind of purpose, we must live to die and die to live. Of course, it is more than the physical living and dying that we cannot escape even if we should wish it. But no, in living to die and dying to live, we focus our hearts, our minds, and our bodies on putting to death our false and transitory hopes, on considering all our profit and gain as loss for the sake of Christ. And Christ is our model. He himself came to this earth and lived to die, but He knew the Father's promise. “He poured out his life unto death,” Isaiah 53:12 knowing that “after the suffering of His soul, He would see the light of life, and be satisfied” Isaiah 53:11

So, we must follow in His footsteps. For His sake, “we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered” Romans 8:36 We die to ourselves and this world deliberately, purposefully so that we might live and live just as deliberately and purposefully as we have died. In so doing, we gain the censure of the world and are counted as fools. “Yet I am not ashamed, because I know whom I have believed, and am convinced that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him for that day.” 2 Timothy 1:12 And I now find that the wisdom of this truth has never been more clearly authenticated. I perceive it and lay hold of it and exhort you to do the same. If we do, we live it out. We “give what we cannot keep to gain what we cannot lose.” And we are no fools.

But what of those left behind? What balm do we find for the sorrow of our souls? What ointment to assauge the sting of loss? It is nothing of this world, for we have seen how fleeting it is. Indeed, the changefulness of this world, the sifting of its shores teach us not to build here, but to build upon His future promises. We must be like Abraham, and by faith, look “forward to the city with foundations, whose architect and builder is God.” Hebrews 11:10 The pain of this world, teaches us to distrust it and admit that we are “aliens and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own”....for we are “longing for a better country—a heavenly one” Hebrews 11:13-16

So, we lift our eyes to heaven. We deposit our trust in His love. We “consider him faithful who has made the promise.” Hebrews 11:11 We build on that promise and long for a better country. And we do not do so in vain, for it is an ever-fixed shore whose sands are not altered by the tide of time nor the winds of change. Pain and sorrow find no root there, and upon it treads our Savior, our King, our Conqueror. On Him we fasten our gaze and to His word we cling, believing and knowing that one day “he will swallow up death forever. The Sovereign LORD will wipe away the tears from all faces; He will remove the disgrace of His people from all the earth. The LORD has spoken.” Isaiah 25:7-8

Status and Stasis

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Fri, 25 Feb 2011 03:08:00 +0000

Hello, world out there!

It's been many a day since I last blogged, and for that, I beg your forgiveness. Not that any of you were holding it against me, but oh well.

Life in the Krycho household is fine. God has restored a lot of happiness around here since I've been doing so much better. No big news to share - Chris continues to work faithfully, even when he has no work, and I continue to slave away in school against the slings and arrows of outrageous senioritis and the desire to do nothing else but work on my fantasy novel.

Lately, I've been taking care of my Nepalese friends's - Keshav and Deva's - two young children, ages two and six (as well as occasionally getting to hold their newborn!). It has been quite the learning experience for me. I've taken care of kids before, having worked in my former church's daycare for three years. Since I'm living in the same apartment complex as these kids, though, I can go over at random times, invite them outside to play, bake cookies with them...the possibilities are endless.

Because of that, I more fully realize how difficult it is to care for children, especially when they're disobeying! Parenthood carries a weight of responsibility that I cannot fathom until I experience it, I'm sure. That's why I can now say: I can rest in goodness of the fact that Chris and I do not have children yet. God knows what he's doing. I will rejoice like crazy when I am finally a mother, but until then, I have a glimpse of a reason why God is postponing that stage of our lives (or perhaps we'll never be parents, and if that is God's will, it is still good).

So there's that. I'm also blessed by my friendship with that family, particularly with Deva. It's different than anything I've known, especially when it comes to talking about God and Christ. Deva, like the rest of her family, is Hindu, which means (in addition to other things, of course) that "she respects all religions." Instead of butting up against staunch atheism or deism, I am now facing a tolerant polytheism that draws the Christian God in as just another deity in a line of divine beings.

This is forcing me to trust God in a new way -- to truly acknowledge that salvation is always miraculous, and the miracle that God works at other times in ways that are way more familiar to me is just as possible here with Deva and her family. Our God does not change from situation to situation, and that is profoundly comforting.

The Jar of the Body

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Tue, 01 Feb 2011 01:50:00 +0000

If you break the jar of the body
You will find blackness inside.
So cleverly hidden, black string in the water
Dispersing rapidly, infecting everything
Inside the jar of the body.
Outside the jar of the body
Beguiling beautifully, deceiving sweetly
So perfectly aligned, these jars on display
Though you would find blackness inside
You will never break them to find it.
You will never find what you seek
If you seek whiteness inside.
So hard to accept, a truth half-realized
Desire for good, good not fully manifest
Inside the jar of the body.

A Morsel of Tremendous Weight

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Mon, 31 Jan 2011 00:59:00 +0000

This morning was "Communion Sunday" at Wildwood. Our church celebrates Communion every fourth Sunday of the month, which means it doesn't happen often, and I'm always pretty excited when it does.

Dave Robbins, our youth pastor, preached the message, which he opened with a string of humorous oxymorons including "hospital food," "military intelligence" (well, he implied this one but didn't outright state it because "he wants the military people to like him"), and "casual sex."

Finally, he came to "self righteousness." You can imagine how the sermon went from there. We have no righteousness in our selves at all - we have nothing to offer in the way of goodness. It is only through Christ becoming sin on our behalf that we now have the righteousness of God; that we have righteousness at all!

I was particularly blessed by Dave's highlighting of this passage in 1 Corinthians 11:27-28:

Whoever, therefore, eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty concerning the body and blood of the Lord. Let a person examine himself, then, and so eat of the bread and drink of the cup.

Communion is serious. Someone who is not a believer should not partake of it. Believers should search their hearts - "examine themselves," as it were - before partaking. We must consider where our lives are not lining up with our holy identities before we engage in such a vivid picture of the gospel and the holiness in which we now live.

I am so appreciative that the Wildwood pastors care enough to admonish their flock about the importance of a right heart in Communion, because it doesn't seem like a topic that Christians often talk about. It's not a warm, fuzzy verse in any way. Au contraire, it's really a bit alarming - no one wants to incur guilt by taking the Lord's Supper! Such verses can be hard to bring up with a few people, much less an entire congregation.

The Holy Spirit's presence was strong today as the congregation met with the Lord, repenting in humility and joy. My heart was richly blessed with the resplendence of the gospel - in addition, I was reminded that we should not be afraid to talk about the "hard things" in the Bible. They are there for a reason, and God will use them, as he did today. All praise and glory be to him!

The Great Adventure of the Christian Life

noreply@blogger.com (Jaimie Krycho) — Mon, 24 Jan 2011 22:20:00 +0000

I'm coming to realize something -- a great truth.

It came after a bout of bitter tears yesterday. The short of it was I was questioning God's timing in several areas of my life. I couldn't comprehend why God would withhold something from me that is good, that I earnestly desire and that I would do well with.

As I was crying, a statement I made months ago came to mind. I was describing a young man I know to Chris. I said that the young man "has so much love to give that he just wants to put it somewhere. However, he directs it all into the wrong places (in this case, to girlfriends instead of God)."

Suddenly, I realized that I was no different from that young man. I had so much good intention toward this thing I wanted from God -- so much enthusiasm and love! Wisdom settled into my heart like a sweet, comforting whisper sinking into my ears. Don't direct your enthusiasm and love into all the wrong places. Give it all to God. Find all joy in him. Be completely content in him."

This is the great adventure of the Christian life: that as we walk with God, relying on him entirely, the things he chooses to give us along the way will be sweeter and more beautiful surprises than what we would've chosen for ourselves. We always try to conjure - we try to make spiritual situations happen, we try to improve ourselves, we try to love people better. The truth is, when we let go and say, "God, I love you above all. I will follow you whatever you ask me to do," we're so busy looking at God that we don't even realize we're about to stumble on a moment of great spiritual significance, growth, or depth. Then we stumble upon it, and our joy is unsurpassable. We are able to say, "God, when I trusted you, you brought me right to where I needed to be. You blessed me in a place I wasn't even looking for blessing. Thank you, mighty Father!"

I long to live the adventure. Truly, there is nothing my heart wants more!