Why My Monday Afternoons Are More Exciting Than Yours

There are some opportunities in my life that I never imagined I'd have. Teaching middle school being one of them. Teaching 6th grade health and presenting the puberty talk to a group of giggling girls was another. But even more surprising than both of those, is that for the past six months, I have been a part of the middle school strategy games club. Well, not just a part, but the teacher sponsor. Every Monday afternoon, I spent an hour and a half attempting to conquer the world, or rid the earth of deadly diseases, or just trade two sheep for an ore so I can build a settlement with a handful of awesome middle school students.

How did this come to be?...I asked myself the other day. I used to scoff at my guy friends in high school who spent hours "settling". Trading wood and wheat and bricks and building roads and settlements just didn't appeal to me. The game "Dominion" sounded way too intense to be fun. And to be honest, I didn't really know about any other games. Except one. There was that one strategy game that my father began training me in at the age of eight. Risk.

Risk was a staple of Saturday afternoons at the Terrill house. Mom was never that into the game, but when she started dinner, Dad and Cody and I would pull out the original 1975 game board and divide up the countries. Dad advised us on who to attack, how many dice to roll, and how many men to deploy at the end of each turn. (It probably looked more like someone playing chess against themselves, but at least Cody and I thought we were playing.) After ten solid years of Risk training, I went off to college, where I played a handful of times. Several years ago, we bought my Dad the updated version of the game to play on family vacations since his was starting to fall apart. But it wasn't until I was asked to sponsor Strategy Games Club that I encountered a game of Risk like none I'd ever been a part of.

 First of all, I have learned that many middle schoolers are not as concerned with the rules as they are with other things, like winning, or the snacks. And I'm all for being laid back, but I've also developed an appreciation for the German way when it comes to following rules. Thus  a battle commenced inside me between wanting to follow the rules and force others to follow them with me, verses recognizing this was not a class I was teaching and trying to be more easy going, like the students, and focus more on the snacks.

Perhaps this was just a version of Risk that I'd never played, but we began, curiously enough, by trading. The dealer passed out all the cards and soon the boys were calling out, "Who wants Brazil?" "I'll trade Western Europe for South Africa!" I refused to trade, thereby not completely giving away Australia (every good Risk player knows that whoever holds onto Australia always wins the game). The gentlemen with whom I was playing took full advantage of the trading rule, though, and most of them ended up with a complete continent to themselves before the game officially began. We were then instructed to place ALL our extra men on the board. It was complete chaos--impossible to tell where one country began and another ended. Impossible to even see the names of the countries.

This was not a huge problem for me, and I obviously owe that to the extensive Risk training I received when I was in middle school. Yet I worried for the boys, some of whom had never played Risk. I should not have been surprised to discover, though, that most of my fellow players already knew the names of the countries. And not only that, but they had lived in several and also spoke their languages.

Teaching at BFA this year has changed my perspective on many things large and small. It's fascinating to see how the students here bring such unique viewpoints because of the various places they've lived. They look at a Risk board, or world map, with a familiarity most of us only have for our native country, because of their global mindset. My role as Strategy Games Club teacher sponsor is coming to an end as it becomes an elective the last quarter, but I'm grateful for the new perspective I'll have each time I play Risk, both in global awareness, and in the optional trading rules.

P.S. Vadim ended up winning the game that day by putting all his armies on his home country of Ukraine, and plowing through Europe, into North and South America, up through Africa and Asia, and finally conquering Australia.

Doubts Part IV: The Surprising Conviction

The funny thing about these doubts, the searching, and the resolution I felt, is that it was short lived. Though I found answers to my questions, and peace about my faith, I also found something I hadn't set out to find: conviction. The kind that feels like a punch in the gut and makes you wonder what you've been thinking all these years...

It began, actually, through a Christian romance novel I was reading while I worked-out. (God works in mysterious, and sometimes embarrassing ways.) You see, there are people in my life who have really hurt me. And over the years I've blamed some of them for many of my own insecurities and much sadness. Well, through this book, God showed me how similar I am to those people. I am no better than them. In fact, I've acted in many of those same hurtful ways. I just refused to see it that way for many years...justifying my sin and playing the victim from theirs.

And as if that realization wasn't sobering enough, it struck me that I was actually much worse than them. Because among other reasons, I call myself a Christian. I knew better than to act in those hurtful ways. Through all these years, I just never saw it that way. But when you're too busy nursing your wounds from someone else's sin, it's hard to stop and consider your own guilt. It was as if I couldn't face my own wrongdoing. You see, I had tried so hard my entire life to be good. Admitting my guilt in this area was admitting that I had failed. But not admitting my guilt meant something much worse than failing...

"If you are avoiding sin and living morally so that God will have to bless and save you, then ironically, you may be looking to Jesus as a teacher, model and helper but you are avoiding him as Saviour. You are trusting in your own goodness rather than in Jesus for your standing with God. You are trying to save yourself by following Jesus. That, ironically, is a rejection of the gospel of Jesus." -Timothy Keller, A Reason For God

Why exactly had I tried so hard to be good? Was it so that God would "owe me" a happy life? Is that why I became angry, when despite my efforts, life didn't go as planned? I-did-my-part-why-wasn't-God-doing-his-part kind of attitude? Coming to terms with the idea that I wasn't as good as I thought, was no longer just making me feel uneasy, it was uprooting my perspective of myself and of God.

"The Christian's identify is not based on the need to be perceived as a good person, but on God's valuing of you in Christ." Clearly I don't live by that belief or I wouldn't speed only when no other cars are around, I wouldn't act busy when my boss came in, I wouldn't pretend to be so good. I would live openly and I wouldn't care so much about how other people perceive me. Unfortunately, my identity isn't based on God's value of me, it's based on being good and perfect and pretty and charming and cheerful and spiritual and witty and happy and peaceful and content. It's based on being a really good Christian.

I am deeply sorry if my attempts to be seen as "good" have worked. It pains me to think that I may have fooled anyone into believing that the standard for Christianity is too high...because while I may have carefully avoided the "really bad" sins, and looked good on the outside...I was like an apple that had been eaten by worms on the inside, rotting and moldy yet perfectly smooth and shiny at first glance. That is the painful truth.

And it's also true that there is no "standard" in order to be a Christian. Contrary to the way I live my life, you don't actually have to be really good to be a really good Christian. There's only one qualification: be a sinner. Be broken. Be empty. Be in need. Come empty and let Christ fill you up. Find your identity in the only person who has ever loved you perfectly. I invite you, along with me, to stop trying to be so good, and let Christ's goodness be enough.

P.S. If you're thinking of starting a blog about what God is honestly teaching you...I must warn you to consider carefully. He may use this time to teach you some painful, embarrassing, and hard lessons.

(This is part four of a series of journal entries and research I've been working on for the last month or so. Click for part one, part two, and part three.)

Doubts Part III: Finding Answers, or My Grown-Up Book Report

(This is part three of a series of journal entries and research I've been working on for the last month or so. You can find part one here, and part two here.)

January 12, 2014

I love libraries. And I tend to think that any problem can be solved by a trip to the library. Need to learn about real estate or plan a trip? The library can help! Too embarrassed to buy a People magazine to read up on British royalty? Check out the back-issues at the library! Can't cook? The library has a whole cook-book section! The library is the answer to life's problems big and small. It is no surprise then, that my initial acknowledgement of the doubts I was struggling with regarding my faith was followed by a trip to the library. And I piled on the books--Mere Christianity, The Case for Christ, Escape from Reason...But it was A Reason For God by Timothy Keller that I began to read first.

In it, I found loads of compelling evidence for the existence of God...(I recommend you go ahead and read the book, but if you're short on time, the highlights I found most intriguing are below.)

*Keller cites Robin Collin's, "A Scientific Argument for the Existence of God: The Fine-Tuning Design Argument", that highlights fifteen constants in our universe, that, were they off in their exact values by even one in a million, our world could not have existed. Since that fact is a bit heady and hard to grasp, Keller borrows philosopher John Leslie's analogy. If an expert firing squad of fifty men all shot at a target that was six feet away, and no one hit the target, it is possible that it was an accident, but not probable. Likely, they all missed on purpose. Similarly, it's possible that all the necessary constants just happened to align on their own so that our universe could burst into being, but it's not likely.

*Keller brings up St. Augustine's Confessions and his theory that unfulfilled longings are proof of God's existence. If we are hungry, if we desire food, it doesn't necessarily mean that we will eat, but doesn't it prove that food exists? The thing is, we have longings much more powerful than hunger...longings for meaning in life that even a really great career or family can't satisfy; a desire for love that even the sweetest relationship can't ultimately provide; and a desire for happiness that is incredibly elusive, constantly slipping through our fingers. But we still long for those things...might it mean that true satisfaction is available somewhere?

*Keller introduces the ideas of the late Yale law professor, Arthur Leff, who writes about the great "Sez Who?" argument. Namely, if there is no God, there is no basis for morality and no reason to be moral. You may say that slavery or murder or racism is wrong, but the question remains, "Says who?" Some say that nature is the basis of our moral code, but, as writer Annie Dillard points out, nature is extremely violent. It is not wrong for a lion to kill a deer, but we consider it wrong for a stronger human to kill a weaker one. Therefore, nature cannot be responsible for our morality, so there must be a higher power than nature from whom we glean our moral code.

*Keller argues that deep down, we know this moral code exists. "We all live as if it is better to seek peace instead of war, to tell the truth instead of lying, to care and nurture rather than to destroy. We believe that these choices are not pointless, that it matters which way we choose to live..." Yet if there is no God, then does any of that ultimately matter? "...then the whole span of human civilization, even if it lasts a few million years, will be just an infinitesimally brief spark in relation to the oceans of dead time that preceded it and will follow it. There will be no one around to remember any of it. Whether we are loving or cruel in the end would make no difference at all."

Then I came across this quote: "If Jesus rose from the dead, then you have to accept all he said; if he didn't rise from the dead, then why worry about any of what he said? The issue on which everything hangs is not whether or not you like his teaching but whether or not he rose from the dead." I was feeling pretty good that I basically came to the same conclusion as Keller, and also feeling hopeful that he was going to address this question on which lay the crux of my doubt. The basis for much of what he writes in this chapter comes from NT Wrights, The Resurrection of the Son of God.

Again, you should probably just turn off the computer and go read the chapter, "The Reality of the Resurrection", but if you want the much less eloquent (and shorter) version, here it is. If Jesus didn't rise from the dead, how and why did Christianity begin? Some people argue that the story of Jesus's death changed with each telling, like a tall-tale, till suddenly he had risen from the dead(!); but anthropological studies tell us that in those times, "historical accounts were not allowed to be changed" and that fact and fiction in history was clearly differentiated. Also, the first Biblical writings citing the empty tomb (1 Corinthians) appeared only fifteen to twenty years after Jesus died, and mention over 500 eyewitnesses to his resurrection. This means that many of those people were still alive and available to share their account of seeing Jesus. Also, if the gospel accounts really were fabricated, the authors would never have picked women, whose social status was so low that their testimony was not considered valid evidence in court, to be the first witnesses to the resurrection. This evidence may not be enough for us, though, and we may imagine that people in those days were more gullible to an event like resurrection than we would be today. However, research shows the resurrection would have been unbelievable to both Jews and Greeks at that time. This makes a conspiracy by the disciples, as well as mental delusions on their part improbable because the idea of a resurrection wasn't something they, or those they were trying to convince could have even conceived. We know there were other people claiming to be the Messiah back then. All of them eventually died. Why didn't Jesus's disciples assume that his death meant that he, too, was a fraud, unless there was evidence proving otherwise?

Well, the library came through for me again.  I found the evidence compelling and affirming. I was, however, unprepared for what else I found...

Part Four.

Doubts Part II: Five Beads

January 7, 2014

I don't have a New Year's resolution yet. I suppose confronting these doubts would be a good one. So, on a solitary walk along the riverside, I start to think, "What is it I'm really doubting?"

I remember back to the beaded bracelets I used to make in VBS. Five colored, plastic beads, all representing God's plan of salvation. Green, Black, Red, White, and Gold. First, green, for creation. I'm not super concerned with this one right now. I would side with the creationists in a debate, but if God did use evolution to bring about life, my faith wouldn't fall apart. I think. Maybe I just don't have the energy for this one right now. I really did care during my 7th grade science research paper. And I was ready to fail high school biology before marking "evolution" as an answer on my test. But now...I feel like there are bigger fish to fry, or at least people more passionate and qualified to fry those fish than me.

Next bead: black. For the darkness in our hearts and souls. For the bad things we do or say or think. For the blame I automatically put on my husband when I'm unhappy. For the pride that makes me think I'm better than others. For the unkind words that fall out of my mouth without my permission. For sin. No...sin is not what I'm doubting. The evidence is clear in my life, in those around me, and in society at large. We are not naturally good. I never taught my first graders how to steal their neighbor's crayon, and I didn't teach them to lie about it later. No, it's clear to me that we are born sinful. And so, it naturally follows that we need help. We need to be saved.

That is the truth that I know about man. About God? Well is it even possible to have sin without God? If there's no one higher, then who's to say that stealing and lying are wrong? There isn't anyone to say that, in fact. Why would it even be important for my first graders to stop stealing crayons and lying about it? What would be the point of being good? Just so everyone can be happy? But being good doesn't always make me happy...hmmm...

Back to God...I think either it's all true, or none of it is. Some pieces are more difficult for me to grasp than others. Heaven, for example, the golden bead, is harder to concede than God. But if I believe in a loving God who created me (green bead), why would He lie to me about the existence of heaven? He not only wouldn't, but in fact, couldn't.

These doubts remind me of my fleeting childhood fear...what if my sweet, loving parents were really witches, raising us, fattening us up, all along planning to boil us in stew and eat us?? It seemed far fetched, but still...even the remote possibility was frightening. (Am I the only one who considered this? Cody??) It also reminds me of the fear I used to have in early high school of becoming anorexic or suicidal. I was afraid (probably as a result of too many preventative, inspirational speakers at high school assemblies) that these things would overcome me and force me to stop eating or throw myself off a cliff despite my will. What comfort I found in my mother's words, "Those things are a choice. You won't ultimately do them if you don't want to." Similarly, my faith is a choice. I can chose to stop believing. Or I can chose to keep believing, even with doubts.

Next bead: red. For the blood. When Jesus died on the cross. Is anyone still actually questioning whether this happened? Jesus's existence--his birth and his death on the cross is a pretty universally accepted historical fact. I'm not concerned about this one. But it's the next bead...the white one...that seems to hold the key to faith. Did Jesus rise from the dead? Did he conquer death so that our sins could be washed away, so that we could be pure and clean like snow? My doubts then, seem to be centered around Jesus, and whether or not He is the son of God who was raised from the dead. If that's true, then all of it must be true.

It puzzles me how much comfort I can still draw from this faith that I'm so busy questioning. To be reminded that Jesus conquered death, so that we have nothing to fear is so calming in the face of news about a former co-worker's brain tumor. Perhaps faith is less of a choice than I think? It seems I cannot help believing whether I want to or not...

(This is part two of a series of journal entries and research I've been working on for the last month or so. You can find part one here, part three here, and part four here.)

Doubts Part I: Missionaries are not supposed to have this problem.

(This is part one of a series of journal entries and research I've been working on for the last month or so. The questions I bring up in this entry do not necessarily reflect my views today. Nobody panic.)

But these are written that you may believe 

that Jesus is the Messiah, 

the Son of God, 

and that by believing 

you may have life in his name. 

-John 20:31

January 5, 2014

Why now?
It's been thirteen years since my doubts were buried during the Easter service
in which the pastor preached the lunatic, liar, or savior sermon.
 I was convinced.
My doubts were put to rest.

Yet now, they've come creeping back...
Is it even real? Have we all been brainwashed? If not, why doesn't everyone believe?
It's all just so...fantastical. And Christians can be so...weird.

Everyday a reminder pops up on my phone that says, "This isn't real life." But it sure feels real.
It feels like this is it...Do I really believe there's something more?

These doubts bring up serious questions with life (and death) altering consequences.
So why have I felt comfortable ignoring them?
Why have I not faced them head-on? Why haven't I told anyone?

Is it because I'm a "missionary"?
Because I've traveled to "the ends of the earth" to spread the good news?
 I can't very well have a job description like that and not believe it's true. 

Is it because I know that doubts are a normal thing for believers?
I learned long ago that doubts shouldn't be feared, but rather embraced.
They should be welcomed and put to the test because isn't that why we call it faith?
...Then why aren't I embracing them?

Is it because I know so many others before me have had doubts and come through believing stronger than before? Do I trust that I just need to re-read Mere Christianity or The Case for Christ, and then the doubts will flee? Am I counting on that to happen and just too lazy to get the books?

Or is it because I know others who have had doubts and followed them to a dead end?
People I used to pray with; people who helped me with my doubts thirteen years ago.
Am I afraid I might come to the same end? Twenty-four years of faith and nothing to show for it but an empty heart?

Or am I so comfortable in this life, this role, that I don't want to bother to change things?
Doubts or not, I know how to be a really good Christian.
I teach it every day. I biblically integrate. I get paid to do it.

And the fact of the matter is that I don't know who Kate is without God.
 I don't have a memory of life before He was a part of mine.
Maybe the question I'm afraid to ask isn't, "Who is God?" but rather,
"Who is Kate...apart from God?"

So why am I telling Him about it? Why am I still praying?
Why do I believe He's listening and He cares? It's either all true or none of it's true.
Either He's listening and He loves me and He died for my sins and rose again from the dead...
or...He's not even there.

Click here for part two.