I love football. I know, some of you are like, "What?!" Yes, I love football. When I was little, my grandpa would lay on the floor in front of the TV and watch football and I'd sit on his back. I love football. 

I watched Sunday's game because I'm a Raiders fan and I abhor the Broncos. It's nothing personal, it's just a kind of code among Raiders fans. And for the record, Broncos fans hate Raiders fans. I saw Sherman's interview outburst like the rest of America. And I've read all the Facebook posts about how people are going to root for the Broncos now because one player had a meltdown. And that kind of makes me sad. 

First, I have to wonder if some of his critics, like Greta Van Susteren, have ever been to a football game much less a championship game. The energy at a championship game is palpable. It's electric. Everyone is pumped up. And everyone leaves the game with crazy emotion. Adrenaline is pumping for both teams and their fans. When you're with the winning team, you feel invincible. You feel proud. You are in shock. When you're with the losing team, you feel, well, you feel defeated. To the core. As if the whole world has come to an end. 

I know this because, I'm a Raiders fan. We've had some amazing victories and some devastating losses. I was at the 2003 AFC Championship game when we won. It was a high like no other. And a couple weeks later, I was at Super Bowl 37 where we lost pitifully. I felt sick walking out of that stadium. 

So all these people who are condemning Sherman for his outburst, I have to ask you 1 question: do you ever get mad and say something stupid? Act like an idiot? Pitch a temper tantrum like a two-year-old even though you're a grown adult? 

I thought so.

What's that? You're not on national TV? You're not a role model for kids? Really?! Are you a parent? A teacher? A pastor? 

Oh. So you're a role model for kids too even though you're not on TV.

I'm not praising Sherman for his outburst and I'm not excusing it. But on the other hand, where's your grace, American Christian? You're upset about a football player mouthing off in a TV interview. Seriously, don't you have bigger fish to fry? You know Christians are being killed in Syria, a kid in your city is hungry and cold, your widow neighbor down the street is lonely and depressed, orphans all over the world need a home. And you're indignant about an angry football player? 

Here's what I've learned from this Sherman thing: we all make mistakes. We all get angry. We all say stupid things and do dumb things. We all act like big idiots from time to time. Usually on Facebook, usually making a point about something for which we feel passion. And like Sherman, we're wrong to do so. But we all do it.

Romans 3:23 says We ALL have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.

Here we are fresh off the football field and right back at the foot of the cross. See that's the thing about being a Christian. We have to take the cross everywhere, we have to look at everything in light of the cross. Sherman didn't attack the faith, he didn't even call Crabtree names. (side note: no one is commenting on Crabtree's unsportsmanlike conduct?) 

And that's what I've learned from all of this: I can't throw Sherman under the bus because I get angry too. I yell. I scream. I can't make a big issue out of Sherman's pride because I am proud. Anger + Pride = Stupid Mistakes.  So the Sherman thing really just convicted me of my own sins and made me look back at the cross and say, "Whew. Thank you Jesus."

If you want to root for the Broncos because Sherman got mouthy, go right ahead. Next time you get angry, take a look around at who is watching and pray they give you the grace you didn't extend to Sherman.

Many cultures around the world have arranged marriages still today. The bride's family makes a financial arrangement with the groom's family in exchange for their daughter. Sometimes this is done years and years before the wedding occurs. 

When I was working for my dad, our bookkeeper was from India and had had an arranged marriage. Gheeta was only a few years older than me and since our cubicles faced each other, we often visited. Her arranged marriage fascinated me. To her it wasn't out of the ordinary and I think my fascination probably humored her a great deal. It was obvious that she and her husband loved each other deeply and had learned how to "do life" together. You could tell it was a partnership and that they did not have unrealistic expectations of romance and fairy tale endings. A few times she spoke of her family back in India and explained their marital customs. Most of what she shared was truly beautiful. Some of it was deeply disturbing. It was hard to hear how refusing an arranged marriage could end up in banishment, beatings or even death. And if a bride's purity was questioned or compromised, she was a disgrace to her family. 

Some days, I joke with friends that we should have arranged marriages for our children. Spare them the turmoil of finding a mate, a partner. 

Recently, I realized we are all part of an arranged marriage. 

Jesus, our bridegroom, paid a dowry so that we could be His fully, forever. He paid a dowry so steep that no other bridegroom could ever pay it. We can't even pay our own dowry or win our own hand the way Merida did in the Disney movie Brave. Our poverty is so deep it extends past finances. We are poor down to our souls. We have nothing to offer that could ever pay the debt we owe to our bridegroom. 

We, the church, are the reluctant and rather rebellious bride. We want to be loved, we want to be in love but on our terms. We want the bridegroom to love and protect us, to provide for our needs, but we don't want Him to know us intimately. We want to keep Him at arm's length. This marriage thing wasn't our idea, we long for independence, for self-sufficiency. We look for our fairy tale happiness in money, success, food, and relationships. Yet we always come up empty. 

Our Father chose this marriage for us because He knows it's the only way we will ever find joy or peace. He knows we were created for this bridegroom's glory. He chose this marriage because He knows it's the only way we will ever have a relationship with Him. He knows this marriage is the only way we will ever find true love. Not fairy tales and candlelight romance kind of love, but true, deep partnership, love you forever and always even for the ugly parts of you kind of love. 

Just like my friend Gheeta who didn't know her bridegroom and didn't love him until she surrendered her independence and her selfish desires, we don't know our bridegroom until we surrender. I once asked Gheeta about love. She said that she didn't love her husband when she married him. She barely knew him, how could she possibly love him? But as she got to know him, she learned to love him. And by the time we'd had this conversation, she was wasn't just "in love" with him, she was loving him, every day even when it was hard. Their lives and souls were knit together through hard times when they had no one else but each other (they were in CA, their families and friends in India) and since divorce isn't an option in these cultures, they knew they had to grit their teeth and learn to surrender. At the time, Gheeta was struggling to become pregnant. Being infertile is a disgrace in her culture, and while I'm not sure, I suspect her husband could divorce her for that reason alone. Yet, he hung on because he loved her. 

There are things about me that are a disgrace to Jesus, my bridegroom. In many ways, each of us are a disgrace to our bridegroom. Our hearts aren't pure. Our minds are tainted. Even our bodies have been dirtied by our affairs with the world. He has every reason to divorce us. He could easily throw us away and start over. Yet, He hangs on. He waits for us to surrender. He waits for us to turn towards Him, lean in close and get to know Him. He yearns for us to give us all of ourselves. 

To think that there's someone who paid my dowry with His own life, literally gave all He had for me, and that I continually deny Him myself makes my heart weep. I've scorned The One who loves me like no other and yet He hangs on to me, waiting for me to just give in and learn to love Him. Learn to love like Him. 

Have you ever known someone who asks for your advice but then does all the talking? Doesn't let you get a word in edgewise? Asks you to pray but then tells you the answer? When it comes to the friendship between me and God, I'm that person. 

Those of you who know me know that I'm pretty much a control freak. I don't seek to control behaviors or even physical appearance but I do seek a controlled environment. It's not that I want you to think I'm perfect because I will straight up tell you that I'm not. And it's not that I want you to think I have it all together because I don't. I just have this deep-seated need to always be prepared, to always know what's coming next, and to keep my ducks in a row. 

Unfortunately, this aspect of my personality tends to think "needing to know" means I also need to tell the Creator of the Universe how things are going to go down. This is something that the Almighty has been working on me for years, most notably since Adam's delivery in 2004. (quick paraphrase: I'd told God I was having an all-natural, no intervention delivery and the baby would come early. 9 days after my due date, 27 hours of labor and a Code Blue later, Adam came by C-section. I realized everything is in His control not mine) 

Related to this is my ability to ask God for guidance and then tell Him how I think He should guide me. Sometimes I even give Him all the details of how I think He should answer. Or sometimes I just keep asking over and over again without ever giving Him the chance to say a word. I just keep talking. And journaling. And praying. And asking friends for advice. And obsessing. And looking for signs. 

Rarely do I actually ask a question and wait for Him to actually answer. 

Then I get angry. I accuse Him of being silent. I tell Him that He obviously doesn't care. I justify my anger by saying it's not a sin-issue, it won't affect eternity so He's leaving it up to me.  Honestly, I don't believe that for a second. I mean, obviously obsessing over whether nor not to buy a new winter coat is different from deciding whether or not to move to a new town. But, Jesus pointed out the flowers in the field and the birds in the air and said God takes care of their needs, so He'll take care of ours. So I do actually believe that if we're worried about something as minute as a new coat, God cares. He cares because He's our Father and fathers care about their children.  And sometimes even a mundane worry is because of some fear far greater like worries about money, or child-rearing or gaining weight. 

But I digress.

This week it struck me that many, many times, maybe MOST of the time, I ask God for wisdom, for an answer, for guidance and then I don't shut my mouth and listen for His answer. That many times He's actually answered me but I didn't hear Him because I was too busy talking or I'd moved on to another part of the conversation. 

In Get Lost by Dannah Gresh, she urges the reader to actually shut up (my words not hers) and listen. To say to God, "God do you desire me to do/go/be __________________?" And then shut your mouth (again, my words not hers) and give Him a chance to answer. You may actually have to ask a few times, not because He's not listening but because you're not. You might have to take a drive, go for a walk or lock yourself in the bathroom (that's what I do) and just wait. Don't journal about it. Don't brainstorm. Don't read self-help books. Don't ask for advice. Sometimes, you just need to wait and listen. 

The enemy has attacked me repeatedly this week. Time after time, he shot arrows at my heart, lobbed grenades at my family, planted doubt in the garden of my thoughts. He even used the scale and the mirror as weapons against me. 

I haven't had much anxiety in months. I can't tell you when my last panic attack was. But this week, it all came back. Coincidence? No. It was the enemy.

My five-year-old daughter had consecutive panic attacks from Monday night until Wednesday afternoon.  She was afraid the paper cut on her hand would cause her to bleed to death. She worried she'd get so sick she'd die.  She's never had a panic attack, she's never had these kind of questions or worries before this week. Coincidence? No. It was the enemy.

On Wednesday, she pretty much gave up eating. Didn't want to eat, didn't want to drink. Just cried. A lot. Everything tasted funny. Everything made her tummy hurt. Nothing looked good. Coincidence? No. It was the enemy.

My husband's job kept him running from city to city, driving long distances and working long days every day this week. Exhaustion wore him out to the point that he fell asleep while putting our daughter to bed. Coincidence? No. It was the enemy.

My nine-year-old son with an "old soul" bore the weight of our stress and blamed himself for "everything going wrong" though nothing was in his control or his fault. Coincidence? No. The enemy. 

As I write this, I think to myself, "Wow, we sound like a family in crisis. Maybe I shouldn't post this." But no, we are not a family in crisis. We were a family under attack.

How do I know this was an attack of the enemy and not just a really bad week? 

On Friday morning, when I was so worn out and at my wit's end, when I was crying with fatigue from trying to battle against this "bad week" and control everything around me, I asked trusted friends to pray.  I was so worn out, so burnt out, I couldn't even put into words what I needed to say to God. I just knew I needed prayer. A few hours later, I sat at lunch watching my daughter eat with such gusto that I actually thought I was hallucinating. She was smiling and eating, stuffing the food into her mouth until her cheeks bulged. Then she ran off and played, calling back to me, "I'm still hungry." She had three helpings at lunch then fell asleep in the car. When she woke up, just twenty minutes later, she said, "Mom, I'm hungry. Can I have more to eat?" She ate, without worry, without examining the texture and tastes, and without getting sick. My heart felt peace. 

"It's going to be okay." That was what I heard, that was what I felt. And I really had to wonder if I'd imagined all the stress and tears and hyperventilating that preceded this moment. 

If you're like me, you know that the enemy doesn't attack unless he feels threatened. He doesn't prey on those whose hearts are already serving two masters. He doesn't have to attack those people, he already has them believing his awful lies. They are no threat to him. When a Christ-Follower decides to set her heart on God, when she makes a concerted effort to keep her focus only on Jesus and not on the waves, that's when the enemy fires up his cannon and launches an attack. So, now you might be wondering, what I've been up to this week that would cause such a war against my family. 

I started reading Dannah Gresh's book titled "Get Lost: Your Guide to Finding True Love."  Though the book was not written to happily married women, when I heard her interview on Focus on the Family, I knew I needed to read this book and that I'd need to share it with others. 

The book's premise is summarized in this sentence from the back cover:  
     Discover how to get so lost in God that a guy has to seek Him to find you.

The first five chapters outline how we crave to be loved and how we females crave love and protection from males. It's written for young, single women, but oh how it has struck the heart of this old married lady. You see, we don't just fill our craving for God with guys. We fill it with food, with busy-ness, with friends, with shopping. 

The next ten chapters of the book hold the 'meat' as we sit down to a 10-day "Love Feast" with our Father in heaven. That's where this week found me, in this love feast so profound that teardrops stain my journal entries. That's why the enemy came after me with his musket.

You see,  I've never seen myself the way God sees me. Growing up, I never felt like I fit in and I'd always daydream about the day I would feel sought after, loved and a part of something. That day came but I didn't even recognize that it had. That day came and I didn't even realize it was what I had awaited. I didn't even know I'd felt this way my whole life until this last year when all the horrible stress of 2013 pushed all those deep-set hurts to the surface and I was left to figure out what had caused all this anguish, all this anxiety, all this self-loathing.

So suddenly, in reading a book written for a young woman, I realized all those lies the enemy had told me were just wrong. I'd drank his koolaid and I was done filling my cup. And that young woman inside me began to heal. That's what made the enemy focus his cross-hairs on me. And when that wasn't enough he attacked my husband and my kids too. He thought it would knock me off course, but it actually just knocked me to my knees. 

Gungor's song "You Make Beautiful Things" keeps playing in my head this morning. Give it a listen. Then check out Dannah Gresh's book.

In case you're wondering, I do think it is worthwhile for Christians to discuss these grey areas. I do think it's worthwhile for Pastors to teach on them. I think we need to talk about the hard stuff in order to grow deeper roots and stronger branches. Proverbs 27:17 says As iron sharpens iron so one person sharpens another. That, my friends, is not a pretty image. When iron sharpens iron, sparks fly and horrible noises are made. But both tools emerge stronger and better built for their purpose. It is the same with Christians and discussing these issues. They may be uncomfortable, they may convict, they may even sting a little. But if they can be discussed lovingly, without accusation or judgment, then both will emerge stronger and better built for their purpose. 

For quite some time, I've had it on my heart to share my opinion on denominations.  I've withheld for fear of offending or upsetting people. But, today, I'm laying it on the line. You are welcome to disagree. Rest assured, however, many of you will be offended. Today's post is equal-opportunity as I don't seek to criticize any one denomination, but pretty much all of them as a whole. 

I grew up in a non-denominational church before the term "mega church" was even coined. The sanctuary was built like a Broadway theater and holds thousands of people. There was, and still is, a place to plug in for every age, every hobby, every interest. The core beliefs of the church fall in line with The Apostle's Creed though it wasn't regularly recited. The messages were, and still are, based wholly in Scripture and there isn't a lot of time (if any) spent on denominational grey area. Check out Neighborhood Church for yourself.

Denominational grey area is the stuff that isn't black and white in Scripture. Most of this grey area is created by man after his interpretation of Scripture. This grey area encompasses ideas or beliefs that do not affect salvation, at least not necessarily. I suppose if one put more belief, more weight in the grey areas than in the absolute truth of the Gospel, then perhaps they become salvation issues. But that, my friends, is a discussion to have in person at another time.

To me, denominational grey area is only beneficial if it is used as a "iron sharpens iron" kind of tool. It should be used to get believers into the Word to read, learn and discover what God has to say about things. Unfortunately, more often than not, denominational grey area is used as a weapon against other denominations or as a marketing tool to get more church members. 

A few years ago, I was sitting in a meeting among Christians. To my knowledge, there was only one other non-denominational Christian in the room. The rest were all of the same denomination. One person in the room piped up and said, "Well, our denomination is the only denomination that has it completely right. We are the only denomination focused totally on Christ." 

I sucked air, bit my tongue and saved my anger for when I got home. Poor Scott got an earful. You see, not only was this statement insulting, it was accusatory and judgmental. And, it was wrong. Wrong because --and please read carefully--denominations were created by man. Man is sinful. Man has not gotten it 100% right ever. 

Denominational grey area usually covers things like the logistics of baptism and communion, leadership roles in the church,  methods of worship, and even what we and our clergy wear to church. And none of it will actually earn us salvation. None of it is akin to God's grace demonstrated in Jesus' death on the cross.  When we get to heaven -- regardless of where or when that is or what it looks like -- these grey areas aren't going to matter.

You see, when we get to heaven, we will just be the Body of Christ. There will not be a special section for the Baptists or a special area for the Methodists. The Presbyterians do not have a reserved room nor the Lutherans have their own corner.  

Here's the part that really upsets me about all of this: non-believers get sucked into, rollled over and turned off by all this denominational grey area rigmarole. It confuses them. It causes them to "church shop." (heck, it even causes believers to "church shop") It causes them to never set foot in another church. And it waters down the true message of the Gospel. 

I think if we read 1 Corinthians chapters 1 and 3, we'll find that our denominational grey areas are pretty similar to the divisions and differing opinions/teachings Paul wrote against. He exhorted the early church to find unity, to not boast in our knowledge and to recognize that we belong to Christ alone. 

So, go out and discuss your denominational grey area. Use it as a tool for growth. Let your views sharpen someone else and let their views sharpen you. Use it as an opportunity to dig into the Word and study. But, please, when we present our faith to the unbelieving world, please let us focus on that which we agree. Let us proclaim the message of the Gospel that Christ, the only Son of God, came to earth as fully God and fully man, lived a sinless, perfect life so he could be the Perfect Lamb. He was tortured and crucified on a cross. He died. He rose again. He is coming back. And He did all of that for you and for me. So that we wouldn't have to pay for our own sins with our own death. He gave His life so that we can live forever with Him. 

NONE of the great theologians whose works inspired the denominations did that. NONE of them could. Only Christ can. Only Christ did. THAT is what we should focus on, THAT is what we should highlight, THAT is the message we should be careful to not water down in grey area.