How Do You Know I'm Saved?

I got the idea for this post during finals week, when I didn't have time to write it. I am finally getting around to it, you're welcome.

My concern is for people that think they're saved.

Matthew 7:21-23 "Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord,' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?' Then I will tell them plainly, 'I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!'"

I've met several, maybe even "lots" of people who have said, Yes, I'm a Christian... but they have no idea what that means. Way too many people think that "Christian" is a person's religion, determined by whether or not they go to church (as opposed to the synagogue or mosque or none of the above). No. It's more than that. Just because you know the story of Jesus doesn't mean you accept it. It doesn't mean you believe it. It doesn't mean you apply it to your life. 

I remember being in elementary school when my friend asked me on the playground, "Are you Christian or Catholic?" I was baffled, because I thought Catholicism was a form of Christianity. I feel I was unsuccessful in explaining the word "denomination" to my friend when I told her I was Christian, but I was also Lutheran...as opposed to Catholic. 

Unfortunately not many people, even adults, are much more educated than my friend from elementary school. 

When I was a freshman in high school, I started dating this "Christian" guy. He's great, had/has a great set of morals and likes to keep the peace. He likes to smile and wouldn't hurt a fly. But whenever we talked about religion (which wasn't often), I took him at his word about his being a christian. His facebook religious views still say "Catholic", but I've learned from mutual genuine Christian friends that he really doesn't know what he believes, that he doesn't have a personal relationship with Jesus. Truly, I continue a friendship with him and still rarely, if ever, hear him talk about or mention God. A true Christian wouldn't be so detached from their faith, especially around someone else (me) they knew was a Christian. I don't think he was/is lying, I just think he was/is ignorant, although I have come across people that did lie to me about their faith...

I remember a year or two ago, I was talking with a friend who said he was a Christian, and I took him at his word as well. I asked him to pray for me several times, and since he was clearly living a "good" life, I praised him for his faith on multiple occasions. However, unlike the first guy I mentioned, I finally got the brilliant idea to ask him what his faith meant to him. To my amazement, I discovered that he had no relationship, or even genuine interest, in the man called Jesus, and that his only connection with Christianity was that his family used to go to church, and that he agreed with the morals in the Bible (which he never read). In a long, drawn out, and very gentle response to that, I told him that I thought his Christianity was not genuine, and that given he doesn't know what he really believes, he was more or less agnostic. He now has as his religious views on facebook, "Agnostic is about the best description right now." Interesting...

I think it's important for everyone, whether you're Christian or not, to analyze their faith. If you haven't really thought about it, you're doing it wrong. If you haven't questioned God, or his existence, or his character, you're doing it wrong. If you think religion is enough, you're doing it wrong. If you're settling for whatever your parents say and not making any of it personal for you, you're doing it wrong.

So, I'm a Christian. But how do you know I mean it? Do you dare ask me?

What do you believe? Do you dare ask yourself? Are you afraid of doubt? Don't be. Ask.

I truly believe that Jesus is the Savior of this world, but I'm not going to try to force you to believe that. However, I want to offer you this opportunity to email me at bennettmk@earthlink.net in case you're wondering what I think Christianity is, or talk to me about your spiritual journey, or even how you can accept Jesus as your personal Savior. Obviously that's a big step, but whatever you want to talk about, here's my email address. Have at it.

That's all.

God bless.

Stereotypes Are Bad: Dreadlocks (and other facts-about-me)

Hi, my name is Maryann. I'm white, I'm American, I'm a female, I'm in college, and I have dreadlocks. Many of you already know these facts.

Presumed Stereotype Before Dreads:
• Goody two-shoes
• Straight-A student
• Barbie-ish
• Boring
• Doesn't understand real life

Presumed Stereotype After Dreads:
• Smokes pot
• Dirty and smelly and trashy
• Undesirable/unsexy
• Liberal, hippie (or is it hippy?)
• Strange lifestyle, i.e. pagan or vegan or something else ending in -gan
• Complete wannabe
• Lesbian
(I believe that this website, where I got the idea for this post and which includes many of these stereotypes, is made up of nothing but white males)


Uhhh, so I have something to say about this. But I have to start with the fact that I love my dreads.

I recently had a revelation about myself: I like to be different. A lot of people I know probably knew this about me a long time ago, but I am just now realizing it. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense. I don't like to shock people, but I like to throw them off a little. I like to make them question stereotypes. For example, I grew up in the suburbs/almost city, but I drive a pick-up truck. I am raising a bamboo plant in my dorm room; who knew? I play a pretty weird instrument (how many non-musicians here know what a bassoon is?). I love fire (earlier today I burned a piece of tape to see what would happen and it made Gavin panic). I'm dangerous because I carry pepper spray around with me after dark. I still wear high heels when I dress up even though they're out of style and I love long skirts (okay, that one's not a very big deal). I want to learn sign language, not spanish (that's just kind of illogical, really). I had cornrows once (they looked bad). Oh, and I don't like stuffed animals (at least, I don't like owning them). For goodness sake, my name is Maryann. How weird is that (for someone my age, anyway)? I could think of more strange facts-about-me, but I'm not going to.

The point is that none of these things are going to shock you, but maybe some of them will make you say, "Really? You do?"

One of my best friend's roommates (Amber being the friend, Madison being her roommate) recently commented on how the way I dress conflicts with my hairstyle. I don't wear drug-rugs or anything like that. I like to keep it classy when I can afford it, and still nice-ish when I can't. (Don't quote me on this when you see me stumble into class in sweatpants and a hoodie, please...) but still. It's a style thing. I like to look nice. Sometimes I even wear makeup. Sometimes. Makeup a subject for another day.

To quote my latest facebook status, "[The contrast between the way I dress and my hairstyle] confuses people and makes them think twice about who I really am--and proves to them that they don't really know me until they know me."

I guess that's what it boils down to. Jesus knows me, and I can't think anyone else who really, truly does.  Deep down I'm someone else and try as I might to truly be myself, it's very difficult. I mean, right? Who, of the people reading this, can honestly say they always act like themselves? No one. Because how you act depends on the situation you're in, who you're around, what mood you're in, etc. You act one way even when, on the inside, you're someone else. Some people act radically different than their true selves, others are only slightly off. But no one is dead-on. There's no way to convey that inner-self. No one can see inside you except yourself and God. No one else understands your heart. You're sort of on your own, that is, if you don't have a relationship with you-know-who. By the way, yes, I'm a christian. Did I just burst another stereotype? Uh-oh.

My point is this: Why are you stereotyping me? I don't smoke pot and I do wash my hair. I do understand life and I'm not really a liberal. (If you're really wondering, you could call me moderate-conservative, but I would advise you not to put me anywhere on the political spectrum, partly because I base my beliefs off my faith, partly because I'm uninformed and don't know what I'm talking about, and partly because I'm indecisive.)

If I would stop going off on tangents, maybe I could actually manage to wrap this thing up.

I take showers and I love my hair and I probably am a goody two-shoes anyway but just don't want to admit it. So just get to know me instead of jumping to conclusions. There. I'm done. Goodnight.

God bless.

An Unsent Letter

I wrote this brief, clumsy letter to a friend on Wednesday, September 7 of this year, and it has been sitting on my desk collecting dust ever since. I am too chicken to send it, especially since parts of it are so poorly written. But I'm not too chicken to put it on my blog at 12:30 at night, apparently. Here is is.

Dear _______,
I hope you are well and that school is going smoothly.
I write to tell you that I noticed in my our last visit to your home that although I think we both greatly enjoy spending time with one another and joking around, our friendship is very surface-level and shallow, having had almost no "deep" conversations or below-the-surface sharings. I was disturbed by this realization because as is, I care for you and love you very much; you are like a brother to me. Are we content to hide our affections and feelings of kinship and allow ourselves to be limited to small-talk, banter, music, and childish humor? While nothing is inherently wrong with these things, doesn't true friendship demand more? Love for anyone can not be inferred; it must be expressed openly. I therefore would like to tell you that you are very dear to me and always have been and I hope that next time we see each other, our friendship takes on the quality it is meant to be.
God bless!
-Maryann


I just don't know how Jesus did it. I don't always know how to form deep relationships on purpose. I can do it on accident, but sometimes even when I want to, the means to do so are too lofty and challenging. It's sad, because there are so many people that I've wanted to talk to, to get to know and hear their story, that I never even introduced myself to. We're relational beings, but sometimes forming relationships is harder than it sounds. We have to take steps forward and be proactive though. Maybe a letter like this out of the blue would be a bit too sudden, but if I took small steps, in asking a person how they're doing, slowly asking deeper questions, that might work. Rather than just saying "Why aren't we as good of friends as we should be? Let's have a deep relationship," we should be more subtle about it. Subliminal relationship-forming. Until, at least, it gets to that point where you can say, "Hey, we're friends! We should do this more often! I like you as a person! Etc!"

Now I'm thinking out loud (or, thinking...through... my fingers...  hahahaha) and it's getting late and I don't know why I'm still awake.


Goodnight and God bless.

O Come, O Come, Emmanuel

The traditional hymn, "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel" has never rang (rung?) truer for me than it is ringing this Advent season. I feel like every moment I am on the edge of my seat, waiting for Jesus to come. We sang a version of this at church tonight and it was so moving. Here are the timeless lyrics:

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Rod of Jesse, free
Thine own from Satan's tyranny
From depths of Hell Thy people save
And give them victory o'er the grave
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Day-Spring, come and cheer
Our spirits by Thine advent here
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night
And death's dark shadows put to flight.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, Thou Key of David, come,
And open wide our heavenly home;
Make safe the way that leads on high,
And close the path to misery.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

O come, O come, Thou Lord of might,
Who to Thy tribes, on Sinai's height,
In ancient times did'st give the Law,
In cloud, and majesty and awe.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Here is my (very loose) translation to said lyrics:

Please come, Jesus, "God with us",

Free us, because we are in captivity until you arrive.

We rejoice! You are coming.

Come Jesus, human like us,

Free your people from the wrath of Satan,

the cruel tortures of Hell,

and give us victory over death

We rejoice! You are coming.

Come Jesus, our sunrise,

Lift up our spirits and give us hope.

Death looms but you have power over it.

We rejoice! You are coming.

Come Jesus, ruler of the nations,

Bring us to Heaven, 

And end our pain and sadness.

We rejoice! You are coming.

[I don't remember this verse in the hymnal I used in my home church, but it's still nice.]

Come, mighty Jesus,

Come fulfill the law

You are majestic and awe-inspiring.

We rejoice! You are coming.

Seriously. Jesus is coming. I don't even necessarily mean the second coming, I mean HERE in our lives TODAY, he is penetrating our lives, encountering our souls when we least expect it. CRAZY. Sometimes you have to wait though. But waiting is exciting. I mean, it's Jesus. You can't not get excited.

God bless.

How I REALLY Feel About Christmas

For those of you that read my blog earlier today (especially the Christmas one which is now deleted)... I'm sorry about all the things I said, a lot of which I didn't mean. I was just very frustrated with our extremely materialistic society and finding God in the midst of all the shopping and spending is just hard to do. It seems like there's two sides to Christmas: 1) the birth of Jesus and the whole nativity scene thing, 2) Santa, shopping, Christmas lights, sultry pop Christmas music, companies getting money, blah de blah blah blah.

And that's hard for me, because where do those two sides collide? Where is Jesus in the "other" side of Christmas?? It's hard to be enthusiastic about the birth of Christ when the only way people know how to celebrate it anymore is by buying expensive things that no one really needs when it should be celebrated with reverence, by treating others with compassion and love, by reaching out to those in real need. That's what I struggle with.

And the post I wrote earlier today, please know that I'm sorry. It was poorly written because I didn't know how to adequately express myself, so I whined about everything having to do with Christmas and was overall very pessimistic. Please let me redeem myself:

Jesus Christ is greater than all of Earth's problems. He is the epitome and personification of love and hope. I know that even though America (and, frankly, the rest of the world) really just "doesn't get it" a lot of the time, someday everyone will know what this life is really all about. Please, help me celebrate the day our Savior came to Earth out of love for us, or, as Relient K would put it, "I celebrate the day that You were born to die, so I could one day pray for You to save my life, pray for You to save my life."


I have a few ideas but please feel free to add more in the comments.

1) Instead of buying someone a present, donate that money you would have spent on a present for them, to a charity that they care about in their honor. Or if you don't know what particular charity they are passionate about about, donate it to one you care about. (Funny story, just as I was thinking about this, my Dad came into the living room and told me, "You know what you could get me for Christmas?" [I had asked him earlier what he wanted, to which he said he didn't know.] Then he started naming charities I could donate to in his honor. What a God-moment.)

2) Instead of buying someone a present (once again), write them a letter about how much they mean to you and how much you love and appreciate them. It would mean so much more to them and they would cherish it much longer. Jesus is a relational God, not a materialistic God.


Matthew 6:19-21 “Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."


Sorry again for my huge blunder. I ask your forgiveness.

God bless.


UPDATE: I found this GREAT picture that I would like to share:

Click it to make it bigger.
That's all. God bless.

From Couch to 5K

Hi. I've been running lately. I just started a month and a half ago when I expressed multiple times to my then-boyfriend that I would like to start running and that the hardest thing about it was finding the motivation. I said how much easier it would be if I had someone to do it with me. I wasn't trying to manipulate him into doing it, I was just speaking honestly. Seeing as how last semester (before we were dating), we had decided that this semester we would be "running buddies," he ended up being my motivation for starting.

I'm living proof that just because you're skinny doesn't mean you're in shape. Except for a slightly-chubby phase in high school, I've always been fairly skinny. Enough that if I did start running, or swimming or biking or whatever, I wouldn't lose very much weight and I wouldn't look a whole lot different. Maybe a little. But not much. However, I'm still a couch potato and sit on my bum eating cheezits and checking facebook in my spare time. Thank God I inherited my mom's high metabolism. What that means though, is that getting in shape, real shape, is still hard for me. Because on the inside, I'm still really out of shape. So there you go.

I did the Couch to 5K training program when I was a junior in high school with my mom. I felt and looked great, and I realized how much I loved running (almost as much as my mom, the 40-year-old marathon runner). But I remember it being very hard for me. I remember some days I would gasp for breath and feel like I was going to completely keel over. But by golly, by the time it was over, I could run a 5-kilometer race. And I did. With my mom.

My ultimate goal was to run a half-marathon, but I have weak ankles, flat feet, and bow legs, and by the time I was up to four miles, shin splints and knee pain took over. I never made it to more than four miles.   One time, after the 5K race, my mom and I decided to do the four miles. I was going very slowly because my knees hurt so bad. I remember telling her I felt like my legs couldn't hold me up but she pushed me to keep going, wanting to see me do my best. When we were around the three-mile mark, I think, we were on a bridge and I fell down. I was gasping for air and sobbing. Mom asked if I was alright, but I didn't feel alright, and I walked the rest of the way home. My body felt awful. But I didn't abandon running quite yet. I remember it being summer after my junior year, and on vacation with my family in New Hampshire. My mom and I went running several times, but one time was just too much. I stopped early, turned around and walked back. Mom recalls me crying, but I don't remember that part. That was the last time I ever ran. Sort of.

The next summer I worked at camp, and I ran a few times during my break to "get back into it," but nothing worked. By then I had gotten "orthotics" for my shoes which were supposed to help with my flat feet and consequent pain. When my freshman year of college started that fall, I went to the gym and ran twice the whole year. The second time I went, I threw up water on the bathroom floor afterward. It was the first time I'd thrown up since I was eight years old. I was too out of shape and I had pushed myself too far. You can't just start running out of the blue. But I was too stupid to realize that, and I gave up. I was completely unmotivated.

Then this guy came along and said he'd start running with me, so I got back into it about a month and a half ago. We did the Couch to 5K training program again, which was a good choice. He always got enough exercise from sports, so he was pretty much just doing this for me, so I could have someone to motivate me and keep me going. It wasn't as hard this time around, and I started feeling really good. We always ran around the 1/8th mile track, never on the treadmills. It was nice. Afterward he would always hold my feet so I could do sit-ups while I still had a lot of blood flowing to my muscles. He gave me tips on how to breath and how to eat and drink before running. Then we broke up. And I was running alone.

I am still doing the Couch to 5K, by myself. It's harder when you don't have someone pushing you, but  it's still the same. Your body doesn't feel any different but your mind has to try harder. My now ex-boyfriend having gotten me motivated enough to start, I now had the momentum to keep going back by myself. Besides, I know I'd be pretty disappointed in myself if I stopped now that I'd started.

I am on week 5 of 9 weeks (although it has taken me six weeks, haha. One week was repeated, but whatever.) Today I had to run 2 miles without walking. Since I'm home for Thanksgiving break and don't have a track, I run outside. (I don't know why I'm so against treadmills but I am. We have one in our basement that I never use.) This was the first time in the program where you don't stop to walk. I couldn't do it.

I could blame it on a number of things: Thanksgiving overeating happening yesterday, not waiting long enough for my breakfast to digest, the wind that was coming at me, being dehydrated, the air smelling like fresh asphalt making it harder to breath, the hills... a bunch of things. Maybe a combination of several of those. But I stopped to walk several times. I felt like I was going to keel over, or maybe vomit.  I feel bad about it. But I'll get back on track (Haha, get it? Back on track?) I'll get up to three miles eventually, even if it takes longer than the training program says. I BELIEVE IN MYSELF!!

Even though today was stinky, I have confidence in what I'm doing, and I feel good. It won't be much longer before I start to see a physical change in my body, I think. I thank God that I have been given a body that can do these things, that even though I have flat feet and bow legs etc., I can still run, I am still a young, physically able woman, and I can train my body to do all kinds of cool things. I love running. I don't know why. But this is so cool.

Maybe eventually I'll be able to write a blog post entitled, "From 5K to Half-Marathon".


God bless.

The Boy Who Cried Wolf

Paraphrased from Aesop's Fables:

Once upon a time, there was a shepherd boy tending his flock of sheep. One day, he thought it would be fun to trick the village into thinking there was a wolf attacking his flock of sheep, causing panic. So he ran into the village yelling "Wolf! There's a wolf attacking my sheep! Somebody help!" Men rushed to help while women and children hid in their homes. When it became clear that there was no actual wolf and that the boy was lying, they became angry and irritated because of the chaos that had ensued for no reason. However, the boy found it absolutely hysterical and relished in the extra attention.

A few days later, the boy played his trick again. He cried "wolf!", and the people came to help, only to find that he was once again lying.

After several repetitions of this prank, the people stopped coming to help when the boy tried to cry "wolf!" and the boy gave up on trying to trick them. However, it wasn't long until he was tending his flock when, lo and behold, a real wolf came stalking up. Panicked, the boy ran down to the village yelling "Wolf! There's a wolf attacking my sheep! Somebody help!" But everyone in the village just looked at him and shrugged. "All he knows how to do is lie! Maybe if we just ignore him he will stop," they said to one another. No one believed the boy, and he wept bitterly when he realized that every last one of his sheep had either been killed or had scattered, never to return.

The greek version of the story ends like this (according to Wikipedia): "The story shows that this is how liars are rewarded: even if they tell the truth, no one believes them."

~~~

The phrase "it's like the boy who cried wolf..." has come out of my mouth at least twice in the last two days, and in light of that topic, I will share with you those contexts and perhaps make a few other made-up scenarios relating to this topic, if I am feeling creative in fifteen minutes or so.


I was sitting with my friend Amber at lunch the other day, and we were discussing how some people really just... try too hard. Try too hard to be funny, try too hard to seem interesting, etc. We talked about how annoying it is to listen to someone who never. shuts. up. Especially if the only thing they are talking about is them-self. You know what I'm talking about.

I made the comment that one of my desires was to be one of those people that when I talk, people listen. To make every word I say worth listening to. But that's simply not the case, because, while I sometimes ramble in my writing, I am actually a pretty concise writer compared to how I talk. I (usually) (or at least, sometimes) know when to shut up, but sometimes I need to talk out my thoughts in order to comes to a real conclusion in my mind. It is the same with writing, but in writing, I have to think about what I'm going to say before I say it, which makes me at least a little more concise.

I also want to be funny. I feel like I usually don't seem like I'm trying too hard, but still, making people laugh is fun, and I am sometimes good at it, so that takes away from my focus of keeping my words limited to wise sayings only.

The end result is: ramble-ramble-ramble-ramble-ramble-wisesaying-ramble-ramble-ramble. Thus, by the time you actually say something worth hearing, people have stopped listening because even though you have something good to say now, you were boring for a long time beforehand. Just like.... the boy who cried wolf.


Last night I was lying in bed, home from college for Thanksgiving break, in my top bunk with my younger (but not much younger) sister on the bottom bunk, and we ended up pillow-talking and catching up until about two in the morning. At some point I was like, I want to talk to you about <<my recent ex-boyfriend>> but you have probably heard me talk about boys SO much in the last, I don't know, 8 or 9 years, that hearing me talk about this boy would be like the boy who cried wolf. And you probably don't even want to hear about it anymore. Her response? "No comment." Poop. But I can't blame her.

On a side note, I have never loved a human being more thoroughly than I love this guy. I mean that with all my heart, no matter how cliché it sounds. I don't even care if it sounds like the boy who cried wolf, all of you can hear me say that, and, believe it or not, I am telling the honest-to-goodness truth.


Perhaps from now on I'll pull a Jesus and be like, "I tell you the truth..." or something to that effect when I am about to say something actually worth-while. That way if you zoned out due to rambling, you'll know to perk up your ears and listen. Yep. Good plan. How about a test run? Okay.


So my sister is exactly two years and five days younger than me and even though she is younger than me she has bested me in driving seeing as how she can drive a little stick-shift car which I cannot do, I can only drive my automatic pick-up truck which I love, her name is Lucie and I love her because she is beautiful even though someone stole her spare tire and now she has a tail hanging down which is the cord that used to hold up the spare tire but oh well I mean life happens and sometimes people just need a little extra money so they steal a spare tire but my mom said the car people said I could just go to a junk yard and pick out a tire that is still good from an old wrecked car that way I don't have to actually buy a spare tire which would be nice because frankly I don't want to spend money because I don't have a job and I really need one because I really need money because I TELL YOU THE TRUTH: I am thinking about going to Thailand this summer.

Well, that was a very roundabout way to get the news out, but please pray for me and my decision/fundraising.


God bless.