He Is.

Still.

This Jesus of Nazareth….

What from this quote, stands out to you? Which aspects of Jesus do you find the most wonderful? Likewise, which do you most struggle to grasp or embrace?

I’m sharing a post about parenting…sorta. You see, I’m often really good at judging other parents, assuming that the way I parent is better. In fact, I judged my own parents, that is until I became a parent myself and I realized that maybe they knew more than I had assumed.

Here’s a sneak peek:

“I realized too, after having kids that all of the things I thought my parents did wrong, weren’t necessarily wrong for them. They did the best they could do. They did what knew knew to do for themselves, and for me. Who was I to judge their decisions?

When my husband and I were first married we discussed some of the things our parents did wrong, or rather the things we would do differently for our children. But then, we also spent time talking about all of the things they did right and the ways we hoped to emulate them.”

To read more, including a list of the things my parents did right, head on over to KC’s blog. Please show some comment love too and tell me what your parents did really well. Hope to see you there.

I had scrapped one post idea, only to start…and then stop writing another. I had an entire whole long weekend to write something, anything, and yet…nothing. “Why do I do this to myself,” I ask? My husband, sitting next to me, just smiles.

You see, this whole business of blogging is somewhat impossible for me. On the outside, it appears that I am on top of things, but nothing could be further from the truth.

I frequently run into Modern Reject readers who say, “I don’t know how you do it! You’re amazing!” I nod and acknowledge that, while yes, I am quite amazing, I’m not as amazing as you might think. In fact, I’m pretty sub-par.

The truth is, the mere fact that Modern Reject exits is a miracle and points to God’s existence. You laugh, but I’m serious. The fact that I somehow write a post, respond to comments, show up on social media sites, and comment on and read other blogs is really God making the impossible, possible.

I’m about to celebrate 2 years of Modern Reject and, looking back, I am completely amazed that I have kept this thing going, when I have wanted to quit numerous times. But something always stops me. Someone, rather. Whenever I’ve thought that this blog is just too much work for me, one of you writes me and tells me thank you. One of you pours your heart out and asks for prayer. One of you encourages my spirit beyond explanation.

And so I write….

I get down on myself. I’m not the best writer. I’m not the most articulate, the most educated, the most theologically versed.

I wish that I had hours to dedicate to each post–to research, revise, edit, and edit again. I wish I could respond eloquently to each and every comment, along with each and every email. I wish that I could spend countless hours reading books that would make me a better writer, deeper thinker, wiser believer. I wish that I could devote more energy to engaging with all of you wherever you are.

But I can’t.

Instead, I bounce a baby on my hip or chase him down the hallway desperately trying to stop him from eating yet another Lego. Instead, I fold laundry–5 loads worth–wash dishes, bathe children, cook meals, and try to not lose myself in the midst of it.

Instead, I squeeze in emails to you and comment back on my phone while pushing a shopping cart. Instead, I lay in bed at night and write blog posts in my head because that is when and where it is quiet and I can truly think. Instead, I read my Bible…when I can and trust God will bring me just enough inspiration and motivation.

And He does.

And so I write…

At times, this blog feels overwhelming and I feel that I need nothing more than to walk away. But I can’t. You won’t let me. So even when I failed once more to write what I wanted to write and instead gorged myself on candy corns while proving my masterful skills of procrastination as I watched an episode of “Say Yes to the Dress,” I know that I’m forgiven. I know that I’m loved. I know that you won’t bail on me, just because I feel like bailing on myself sometimes.

And that is enough.

And so I write…

What have you ever considered quitting or giving up, only to have those around spur you on? What do you feel is almost “impossible” in your everyday life? What is God doing there?

post props

Everything points to Christ…

What are you thoughts after watching this video? Which “true and better” Jesus was a new idea to you? If you had to choose, which are you most thankful for?

Thanks to Antwuan Malone for sharing this with me.

from the archives

It goes without saying that men are visual creatures. We know that “sex sells,” and one of the main reasons for that is because men are visual. It is not women who are usually buying sex, so to speak.

But if a woman could spend a day inside a man’s mind, would she be disgusted and horrified to find out just how much he actually thinks of sex? Would a wife, for instance, end up thinking her husband is a pervert? Probably. That’s how much the male mind focuses on sex.

The truth is, though: your husband is NOT a pervert. He is a man and, like every other man, his sexuality is quite simple to understand.Prager says men have 5 components of sexuality: the power of the visual, the immediacy of arousal, the tendency to sexually objectify women, the need for variety, and genital,–as opposed to emotional–arousal. Update: Many people, in the comments, were quick to point out, that these facts about male sexual nature are a result of the Fall, not God’s design. Thus both men and women’s sexual nature is a result of our sin, not God’s plan. Regardless of the origin of male nature, it is still his nature. I’m not debating how men came to be the way they are, but simply acknowledging the truth about their behavior.

Women often don’t like to talk about male sexuality, know nothing about it, or both. Sure, ladies understand that men like sex and want sex, maybe even that they have sex on the brain, but that’s about it. We never stop to understand that men have drastically different views  of sex than women. If women could begin to fully understand male sexuality, marriages could be transformed. It is that important.

Women who have been married only a month can testify to the fact that men are very visual. They can also testify to the second component of male sexuality: the immediate arousal of a man. Woman (although not all women) tend to more  like steam engines, as you add heat, they slowly speed up and gain momentum. Men tend to be more like sports cars–0 to 60 in 4.2 seconds.

The third point of male sexuality, however, is the male’s tendency to sexually objectify women. I don’t like thinking about this one. This area of male sexuality is where men can begin to look more like pigs than men. We can be quick to call men chauvinistic and the like, but not so when we consider the first two points:

If men are extremely visual and experience immediate arousal, it follows that they would also naturally see women as sex objects. This does not mean all men see all women as sex objects all the time. A man who is sexually fulfilled in a committed and loving marriage, I do not think is walking around objectifying women, but left to his own devices, he might be.

The goal for women is to understand that sexual objectification of women, by men, is natural. However, that does not mean it’s acceptable or necessary. The goal for a man, on the other hand, is to become more emotionally attached and connected to the woman he loves, so that he does not objectify her–or any other woman, for that matter.

Then we get into the male need for sexual variety. Wives especially do not like this area of discussion. I sure don’t. I don’t want my husband seeking out or experiencing “variety.” I want him to come home and experience his boring ‘ol wife every single day for the rest of his life. Hmm… see the conflict there? Men tend to sexually desire lots of different women. However, men sacrifice this  desire for variety and instead choose to commit themselves to one woman for the rest of their life in marriage. The desire for variety does not go away. The acting upon it does.

A wife’s response should be acknowledgment of this fact and thankfulness that he chose one woman to spend forever with–you. I know this might sound archaic, but it is true. A faithful married man is a treasure and a blessing, especially in a world so fraught with divorce and infidelity.

With this in mind, a wife’s response should also be to add variety. Do not be the boring ol’ wife. Be the confident, sexually comfortable, up-for-new things-and-not-the-same-old-bedroom-routine-wife. Be his sexual variety.

Lastly, men are aroused by genital contact, whereas women are more so aroused by emotional connectedness. This one is free for all my fellas out there: If you had an argument, any kind of bickering or disagreement in the last 24 hours with your wife, don’t expect sex unless those things have been resolved. Women want to feel like they are loved before sex. Men feel loved because of sex.

My hope for this post is to have men and women, husbands and wives, openly discuss their sexuality and how it affects their relationships as a whole. My other hope is that wives will take time to understand their husband’s sexual needs and wants, not chastise or judge them for it, and then use that knowledge to improve their sex life.

A good sex life is just like a good marriage. Faith aside, it is built upon trust and communication… and a little adventurous fun never hurt anyone, either.

If you’re a woman, have you embraced–or denied–these facts? What do you do to help you remember these things? If you’re a man, do you feel your wife understands your needs? What else would you add to the conversation?

And if you like this post be sure to check out Part 2, written by my very own husband, Jonathan, on how my understanding of his sexual nature has affected our marriage

post image here

Today’s post is part of a blog series sponsored by Prodigal Magazine, which seeks to answer the question: What Does it Mean to Live a Good Story? I’m honored to take part and hope that you will visit some of the other talented and gifted bloggers participating, as well.

I suppose I wasn’t very different from most other teenagers I knew. I wasn’t concerned with being good, so much as fitting in, which showed itself in my willingness to drink alcohol, smoke cigarettes, and have sex with my boyfriend. I never felt good about these choices, but they brought me happiness…or rather, acceptance.

Like any 16 year-old, I was consumed with myself. Teenagers are notoriously self-centered and I was no exception. My story was all about me. The story I lived to share, and longed to share, was my own. If my life was a movie (and what 16 year old doesn’t on some level believe their life actually is a movie), I was the star. It was my name I desired to see up in lights.

Forget Angelina, Charlize, Reese. I was the main character of my own film. It was a blockbuster, written by, directed by, and starring me.

I remember how the need for attention would swell up inside of me. I remember how I would position myself, negotiate situations so that I might fall into the limelight. I loved the feeling of walking into a room and people taking notice. Looking back, I’m ashamed to admit that I lived for that kind of adoration.

But, one month shy of my 17th birthday, I met the Man who would begin to tell me an entirely different story. His story had a dramatic change in plot, a different beginning, and all together new ending. Most importantly, this story had a new main character. This story was radical, life-giving, and transforming.

Suddenly, I felt the responsibility of telling His story, not my own. In God’s grace, He also allowed me to take a small part in His magnificent story. I could share my past, my present, my hopes and vision for the future in such a way that I really told Jesus’ story above all.

Isn’t this what was meant to be? Isn’t it that much more fulfilling to tell the story of Christ, before we fight to tell our own?

It was Francis Chan, in his ever-wise and practical way, who first placed the movie analogy before me. In Chan’s book, Crazy Love, he writes:

“From start to finish, this movie is obviously abut God. He is the main character. How is it possible that we live as though it is about us? Our scenes in the movie, our brief lives, fall somewhere between the time Jesus ascends into heaven [Acts] and when we will all worship God on His throne in heaven [Revelation].”

So there it is, a truth we may know, yet often forget–that this story isn’t about us, but rather it is about the Risen Messiah. He is the Star. I was not. You are not. Despite this being a counter-cultural message, I found it freeing.

The world wants to tell us that we are the only ones that matter. We are the heroes of our own stories. But nothing could be further from the truth. Living a good story means telling His…again and again and again. It means telling His story with our very lives–not as the main actor, but as those in a supporting role whose entire job is simply to help the True Star of the film shine.

As Chan also says, “The point of your life is to point to Him.” So, I ask you, do you have any good news to share? Do you know of a story so true, so rich, so simple, and so beyond comprehension that it offers the power to save and bring abundant life? If you know that story, speak up. If you’ve seen that movie star, shine the light on Him. Because His is a movie worth seeing. Because His is the only story worth sharing with everyone.

What story are you seeking to tell, His or your own? How have you allowed God to be the main star in the movie of life? How can we best tell others His story?

I did, however, find some great reads this week that I can’t wait to share. Without further ado…My Friday Findings:

More on the Gay Debate. A piece from Relevant Magazine, that covers both sides of the argument. A fast, but thorough read.

The Disappearance of Bees…and Evangelicals. My husband directed me to this post from Jamal Jivangee’s blog. After reading his amazing post relating Christians to honey bees (it’s soooo good), I found myself reading another after another. Jamal is a member of an organic church, as am I and he has an entire section of his blog dedicated to organic church, if you’re interested.

A fresh voice on Christian dating. I discovered Cory Copeland’s blog, Mad to Love, a few weeks ago and subscribed right away.  Cory writes about many issues within the church (right now he’s running a series on, what else, the gay debate) but what I love about him is his fresh, honest, and funny approach on dating and relationships. Check out this post, called “Is Dating Dead?” for example. Great stuff.

God Doesn’t Use Checklists. This is a great post on how we judge ourselves and others, but what we really need is grace. Kristin, the author, writes: “I’m trying to make sense of the tangled mess that’s created when my relationship with God gets all confused with my relationship with Christians.”

Stalk me, why dontcha? Did you hear that the Internet phenom, Pinterest, just raised $120 million and received a $1.5 billion valuation? Yes, $1.5 billion! Some people foresee Pinterest surpassing Facebook. I highly doubt that, but I understand the prediction because I am a self-professed Pin-aholic. I love pinning. There, is said it and if you find yourself on Pinterest too, why not stalk me? We can be pinning friends. Oh, and if you’d really like a sneak peek into my life, find me on Instagram too, as @modernreject!

Mend Mark Giveaway Winner. And lastly, the winner of the Mend Mark t-shirt giveaway is Wendy Ramirez. Congrats Wendy!

So, what did you discover this week? Read anything amazing, challenging, funny, or lame? Share away!

I’m making a guest appearance on his blog today discussing the topic of whether or not women should attempt to look hot for their husbands.

Here’s a sneak peek:

“…it seems that a whole collection of women have come to believe that marriage is an opportunity to give up and just quit trying. How do I know this? Because I have seen them. I have seen these wives, strolling through Target, pushing a cart at the grocery store, out to lunch with friends.

They are women, who from afar, may appear to be zombies of some sort–disheveled, hair in a scrunchie (I mean, a scrunchie, really? It isn’t 1992), sweat pants blowing in the wind. But upon closer inspection, one realizes that these are not flesh eating creatures, so much as women who have fallen into a rut.”

To read more, please join me over at Sammy’s blog and show some comment love. I hope to see you there.

But it’s not going anywhere.

I’ve debated in my mind over and over again about how, and if, I should address the issue of homosexuality and gay-marriage on this blog. I’ve had people write me and ask that I do. I have friends, whom I love, that daily struggle with this issue in personal and profound ways.

My knee-jerk reaction has been to write a divisive, controversial, button-pushing post on the subject, clearly articulating my views, and simultaneously pulverizing the opposition. I felt certain that if I did, it would cause a ruckus, but I felt ready for that response…or so I thought.

Thankfully, in the midst of feeling the need to respond to this news article, or that court decision, this legislative act, or that blog post, I stopped and did the one thing that always makes things clear…

I prayed.

And God spoke. He told me exactly what I was to do and exactly what I wasn’t to do.

And wouldn’t you know, God did not want me to engage in a cultural debate, at least not in the way I had assumed. He did not want me to “set the record straight,” interject my opinion, stir the pot, or be just another voice clamoring to be heard amid the deafening noise.

So, I listened and this is where I’ve landed, somewhere between grief and frustration. I find myself broken-hearted, physically wracked inside over the “gay-debate” raging within the church–feeling ill about the way in which homosexuality is discussed, handled, mishandled, twisted, and abused by all sides.

I find myself sifting through different emotions day after day, only to discover one thing is still true. One thing is still right. One Person is still the only voice I should be straining to hear…

It harkens back to the post I wrote about Mark Driscoll a while ago. Yes, I came to Driscoll’s defense, not because I agree with him on everything or because I even really like the guy, but because he is, despite what others would have you believe, my brother in Christ.

I asked a question then, that I believe, is perfectly reasonable to ask now: Are the so-called Christians who are writing, bashing, voting, hating, judging, and manipulating the issues surrounding homosexuality in the church, actually praying about these things before they act? Are they seeking God’s will before they engage in this debate? I doubt very many are.

Elizabeth Elliot once said (and I’m paraphrasing) that if every believer, instead of whining, complaining, or asking for another’s  advice would spend 2 days praying about that question or concern, they would undoubtedly find an answer:

“…do not speak about the decision to anyone but God for forty-eight hours at least. Just hold it before Him alone. Keep your mouth shut for two days. Pray. Listen. Seek his counsel.

Try this, too–sit before Him for fifteen consecutive minutes in silence, focusing your mind on the words of Psalm 86:11 (NEB), “Guide me, O Lord, that I may be true to thee and follow thy path.”

I think of this often. I think of this when I consider whether or not to write about something on this blog, especially something as difficult and emotionally-charged as the issue of homosexuality. I know God has something to say about it and I mean this when I say it– I doubt if hardly a one has solemnly prayed for the Lord’s wisdom and words before adding their own voice to the pack.

But what we want is to win. We want to point a-big-fat-I-told-you-so-finger at the other side. We want to prove them wrong and we’re willing to sacrifice Christ’s name and reputation to do it. It grieves my heart and no doubt it grieves His, as well.

It would not take much to know His will, His heart, His mind on this issue and for an issue as important as this, I think 48 hours is so little to ask…don’t you?

To be clear, I am not desiring to open up a debate on the issue of homosexuality in the church, so much as raise the issue regarding our quickness to join the debate versus our slowness to seek the Lord’s face in prayer. Do you agree or disagree with my observations?

image from here

When Nicole wrote about not liking women’s ministry (gatherings, retreats, teas, etc.), I was doing a happy dance and celebratory hand-waving. I’m sure I looked like a nutty person, but I was so relieved that she felt like me.

I recently, went to a women’s retreat. I have been on retreats before, but this was the first one I have gone to that was paid for out of my own pocket. This time felt different because I had a time and financial investment.

I don’t know what actually possessed me to sign up for the weekend getaway. I like being home with my hubster, eating the meals I make, and sleeping in my nice bed. But, I think it was the quiet voice of Jesus calling me, “Come Malisa, experience more of what I have for you. I want to spend time with you and get to know you better.” Shockingly, I signed up.

In doing so, I allowed myself to be vulnerable. I allowed myself to be a follower rather than the leader. I allowed myself to be out of control and go with the flow.

Jesus was calling me. He spoke through the messages the various teachers presented, in conversations with friends, and orchestrating connections I could have never organized.

Saturday afternoon we took a walk to a scenic overlook.

I was taking pictures for my blog. I was irritated that I didn’t have cell phone coverage. Heaven forbid, I was only able to check my Twitter account for 2 minutes in 48 hours!

Standing on the edge of a breathtaking vista, ladies threw rocks over the edge representing things they were leaving behind and never picking back up. Some said control, others said hurtful relationships, and others said fear.

I wanted to throw a rock over the edge, but I couldn’t think of anything. I was outraged that here I stood a good girl, raised in a Christian home, and there was not a thing I could throw over.

The more ladies threw their rocks over the cliff’s edge and proclaimed things they were getting freed from, the more enraged I got. I walked over to Bev (the leader of the retreat) and asked, “May I have a word with you? Actually, I’m going to need a few words with you.” She happily walked with me to a spot away from the group.

(Bev and Me after our conversation)

I told her I was angry. I didn’t believe that God was trustworthy. I didn’t believe that a rock I threw over the edge would matter. Whatever “thing” I might throw over, I’d find again.

I’ve prayed that my excruciating neck and shoulder pain would go away, but it hasn’t. I’ve prayed that I would stop saying hurtful things. I’ve prayed that I wouldn’t give dirty, disgusted looks to my husband. I’ve asked and asked and asked.

I said I couldn’t and didn’t know how to accept the love of God.

I admitted to Bev I didn’t need God, because I was a good girl. I wasn’t bad enough to need a Savior.

I stated I was too busy working for Him. I’m too busy getting “gold stars” for my performance.

Bev asked me what I would do if I wasn’t trying to get gold stars?

My answer brought tears to her eyes. As tears streamed down my face, I answered, “I don’t know what I’d do.”

She said, “Oh, Sweetie! You don’t have to do anything. All you need to do is accept the love of Jesus. You just get to know him. That’s all.”

She then asked me what my name means. I said “honey bee.” She laughed! Bev’s name means “beaver.” Beavers and bees are busy creatures.

Bev asked me if she could throw a rock for me. I said yes. She grabbed a rock and held my hand. She said the rock was to end gold stars. She threw it. It was the beginning of something different.

Writing this story brought me additional freedom. A freedom I didn’t even realize when she threw the rock.

Jesus calls me daughter. He says I’m a sheep. And little sheep are the most high maintenance livestock in the world. If it weren’t for shepherds, they would die. (I learned that on my retreat weekend too, thanks Nicky!)

Photo Credit: ekieraM on Flickr

Even though my given name means honey bee and I envision little worker bees with their non-stop buzzing, I’m a sheep in the Kingdom. And as a sheep, my job is simple. I eat, drink, sleep, and follow.

That’s a pretty light yoke if you ask me.

So, here I am now. On the other side of a weekend away. With a new understanding. An understanding that Jesus came for good girls too. Jesus came for me.

I am encouraged to know that I don’t have to keep performing for Him. When the enemy comes to my mind and says, “Dance, pilgrim!” I don’t have to.

You see, the Shepherd calls me and says, “Come here, dear daughter, I want to spend time with you, Malisa. I want to get to know you.”

No more performing for this sheep. I’ll follow the shepherd and get to know the voice of Jesus.

But he who enters by the door is the shepherd of the sheep. To him the gatekeeper opens. The sheep hear his voice, and he calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes before them, and the sheep follow him, for they know his voice. A stranger they will not follow, but they will flee from him, for they do not know the voice of strangers. – John 10:2-5

What are your thoughts on being a sheep? Can you relate to the need to perform to try and earn the approval of a God who already accepts and loves you?