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survivor guilt

Kristen Howerton — Fri, 19 Mar 2010 10:47:55 -0700

I am a little uncomfortable with calling myself an "earthquake survivor". When I got back from Haiti, I had my little 15 minutes of fame as all the local news channels tried to get an interview with the "local Orange County woman who survived the earthquake". It all seemed very overdramatic to me - but I realize (sadly) that people tend to be more interested in a story about someone they identify with. I did the interviews, most of them on my first full day home, because I wanted to use the attention to talk about humanitarian parole. As I saw the stories later, I chuckled at the little liberties they took to make it sound more dramatic, and I rolled my eyes at the descriptor of "earthquake survivor". It doesn't seem a fitting title for someone who doesn't even live in Haiti, for someone who came out unscathed, from someone who took a plane home to a normal life and an intact home.

At the same time, my feelings about the earthquake have been extremely intense. My first month home, I spent hours glued to the television, watching the footage of the devastation in Haiti. If I wasn't watching tv, I was reading stories online. I saw statistics that 1 in 13 people in Port-Au-Prince died that day. And the more I saw of the far-reaching effects of this earthquake, the more unglued I became.

I think we have all struggled with the "why" questions of this disaster. Why Haiti? Why so much loss? Why so much sorrow? Why to a people who have already struggled so much?

In my darker moments - and these have been frequent - I have also struggled with the injustices of survival. Why did I survive this earthquake? Why was I in a structurally sound building? Why did I not struggle with finding food or water in the following days? Why did I get to drive to an embassy and be flown away from the rattling aftershocks? Why did I get to arrive home to balloons and family and friends, while others were still missing loved ones and fighting to survive?

The answer to all of those questions - the irrefutable, undeniable answer - is privilege.

It's not because I am a better person, or have more of God's favor, or because I was more resourceful or more resilient than anyone else. Not by a longshot. Suggestions that God was protecting me . . . those make my stomach churn. Was he not protecting them? All 230,000 of them?

During the last two months, I have watched the news from Haiti in complete horror. I know that we all have - and I've struggled to figure out what a healthy reaction to devastation should be. Is there such a thing? I'm not sure . . . but I know that my thoughts and feelings were frequently not healthy. They have been obsessive and morbid and self-punishing. My fixation was motivated by terror and guilt instead of compassion. I was regularly having panic attacks watching CNN . . . and yet I couldn't not watch.

And then Kembe came home. This should have been a joyous occasion. In many ways, it was. But there was this gnawing realization that his early homecoming was a result of this awful tragedy. How do I celebrate that? Two weeks prior to his homecoming, I sat in a hotel room in Orlando with other adoptive moms, all of us lamenting and commiserating about the length of our adoption process. Never in our wildest dreams would we imagine that our kids would come home in such a short time, AT THE SAME TIME, on the same plane. If someone told us that then, we would have jumped for joy. Instead, their homecoming was somber and stressful. When people have talked about his early homecoming as an answered prayer, I wince.

Of course I am thrilled he is home, but the circumstances have made for a rocky start. For him, for me, for all of us.

I finally saw my doctor a few weeks ago, to talk about my anxiety since the earthquake. As he questioned me to try to get to the source of my anxiety, he asked about what was going on in my life personally that was so troubling. Some current stressors? Something tangible?

And as I sobbed in his office, all I manage to blurt out was that I couldn't fathom the amount of dead people lying under concrete. And thrown in mass graves. And so many amputees. And people living in tents. And still feeling aftershocks. And HOW THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO JUST GO ON WITH MY LIFE WHEN THIS IS A REALITY IN OUR WORLD?

And really. How am I? (Apparently with a generous bottle of Ativan).

I went to church last Sunday for the first time since the earthquake. For me, this is often a space where I can finally get in touch with the spiritual issues that I suppress as I try to keep up with my kids. As the worship songs played over me, I was overcome with emotion for the people of Haiti - for their grief, their pain, their unspeakable sorrow.

I am not a survivor, in their sense of the word. But I feel a connection to their grief in a way that is making it difficult for me to experience any joy right now. I am still trying to figure out how to go on with my life here, as they continue to struggle there. It's a helpless feeling, this survivor guilt.

The Devotion of Devotions

Chris Tomlinson — Fri, 19 Mar 2010 10:38:29 -0700

I just realized the reason we call our devotions devotions is because we’re expressing devotion to God when we do our devotions. This is the kind of brilliance you should come to expect here at Crave Something More.

This all makes sense. Setting aside a part of our day to focus on our relationship with God, to read His word, to hear from Him, to confess to Him, to share with Him, are all expressions of a loyal, affectionate commitment to God. We’re telling Him: You are important to me, and I want to spend time with you.

Of course, active devotion to God, the kind where we pick up our cross to follow after Jesus, is far more than the part of our day we set aside to focus on our relationship with God. This kind of devotion consumes and permeates the fullness of our lives. We live and breathe His word as we walk each step in His presence.

Renee Johnson figured all of this out a while back. She started writing devotions seven years ago, and she now has compiled these daily thoughts into a new release called Faithbook of Jesus (NavPress). I had the chance to get her thoughts on the role devotions should play in our daily walks with God. Enjoy!

Renee, you write for your own generation—the “twenty-something” generation. Why is that?

Why follow everyone else? I've read devotionals daily for the past 14 years, and I’ve read the same ones over and over for the past 7 years. Where are all the relevant devotionals for my generation? I know there are specific devotionals written for teenagers, or men/women only, but the ones written for women assume you're married with children, which I'm not! Seriously though, I love encouraging other 20-somethings to read the Word daily. It's the single most important thing you can do in your life!

Why is being in the Word on a regular basis so important?

Being in the Word daily helps establish a foundation for right living. It helps us line up our actions, behavior, and intentions when we otherwise might not have a clue. It encourages, saves, sharpens—there are so many benefits to being in the Word. I know when I miss out on being in the Word I find myself doing what I want, when I want it, which is not always good for me (pride). For instance, I speed more, spend more money, and am more impatient. Help me fill in the blank =).

What do you see as the differences between recreational reading of Scripture, devotional reading, and Biblical study, and why are those differences important?

On my nightstand I have a devotional book, One-Year Bible, journal, and other books I'm reading. For recreational reading, I'm enjoying your book Crave and 66 Love Letters. For devotional reading, I'm reading Streams in the Desert this year, and for Biblical study I enjoy reading the One-Year Bible. I can tell that when I spend more time reading recreationally, my mood doesn't change, and I still find myself living the way I want. However, when I'm spending time in the Word and reading more in depth study of it, it’s different.

Where can devotionals serve the body and where can they hinder?

Devotionals can serve the body by expounding upon a Scripture, and the commentary is often encouraging and/or challenging. But they hinder when we use them as an excuse to not read the Word itself.

There’s a recurring theme in Faithbook of Jesus: one of a struggle to find our purpose or calling. Why do you feel this struggle is so prevalent in this age group?

I read the following in 66 Love Letters, where it says, "No matter how great your pain or how confusing and intense your suffering, live in the mystery of My love. Struggle to trust Me." I think the struggle to find our purpose and calling is the greatest between ages 20-29. It is in those years that we take giant leaps of faith to move away from our parents, choose our career, and find the person with whom we'll spend the rest of our life. I certainly hope that all of those decisions will not be made in haste and that the struggle to find our calling in Jesus is made carefully through being in the Word daily. This is my goal with Faithbook.

You draw on Psalm 27, saying that seeking and dwelling in the presence of the Lord and gazing upon His beauty is “worship in its purest form.” How do you see these devotionals as serving that end?

When we take time out of our busy schedule to practice the presence of Jesus by worshiping him through reading the Word, we transform our Sunday Christianity into daily growth. We don't just worship corporately in a church with four walls, but rather in the comfort of our own home where we pray, and when we read the Scriptures, or when we spend time in community amongst our friends, or when we are in nature on a hike.

You end each devotional with a prayer to Jesus. In doing so, it seems you use Scripture as a prism to see Jesus in a different light each day. Why is that?

I love using Scripture as a prayer. When we personalize Scripture, it no longer becomes dead, boring, and lifeless, but rather a living double-edged sword with which to pierce the darkness of fear, hopelessness, and desperation in our lives.

What does Faithbook of Jesus exist to do? Or to say it another way, what is your mission with this book?

Faithbook of Jesus exists to help lead others into spending daily time with God. My mission is Hebrews 10:24, which says, "And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds." When we are no longer focused on ourselves, but are instead living the Word daily, our lives become a catalyst into spurring others forward!

Besides Faithbook of Jesus, what are two other devotionals you recommend to people?

Streams in the Desert and Experiencing God by Henry Blackaby.

You can find more info about Renee at Faithbook of Jesus.

Question: Do you read devotionals, and if so, why?

Finding God in My Chipotle Chicken Burrito (and chips)

Christian Buckley — Fri, 19 Mar 2010 09:19:34 -0700

“Good is in the details.”

Two of my great passions in life are Chipotle Chicken Burritos and those tasty lime chips. I love them. I dream of them. Frankly, I crave them. I owned a surf photographry and media business that for one summer several years back got me FREE chipotle. Yes. FREE. And it was Good.

A while back (which I remembered earlier this week) I was eating at Chipotle and one of the staff was wearing a t-shirt that had the following statement on the back:

Good is in the details.

I love it. It is a great business and life mantra. I am constantly talking to various groups about detail execution, following through on the little things, focusing on the small stuff. Good can be found in a lot of places, but it is definitely found in the details of who we are, what we do, and how we do it. In almost every respect, ideas are big but execution is small.

Walking out of the restaurant, pleasantly stuffed with my favorite meal, I reflected to myself, “Good is in the details and so is God.”

God is in the details. He is in the details of His creation, the details of circumstance, the details of His word and the details of our Lives. Sometimes my Christian life is too focused on big ideas, big decisions, and big problems. God is there, but he is also very much in the details of everyday life.

God is in the details.

Photoshopped Faith and The Lies It Tells

Caroline Ferdinandsen — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 21:45:06 -0700

Now what else is the whole life of mortals but a sort of comedy, in which the various actors, disguised by various costumes and masks, walk on and play each one his part, until the manager waves them off the stage? Moreover, this manager frequently bids the same actor to go back in a different costume, so that he who has but lately played the king in scarlet now acts the flunkey in patched clothes. Thus all things are presented by shadows. -Desiderius Erasmus, The Praise of Folly

Photoshop lets me be whoever I want for a brief, narcissistic moment (yes, that’s my face strutting down the catwalk). Websites ranging from Yearbook Yourself to Face In Hole have capitalized on our identity-switcheroo imaginations. It’s rather addictive. One glimpse of yourself as Margaret Thatcher or Jack Sparrow or a Teletubby and you’re hooked. And did I forget to tell you? Photoshopped religion allows you the same creative fake-out.

I’ve had some practice with this sort of thing before, but my own faith identity crisis, not any clever software, powered the transformations. In junior high school, I attended a Pentecostal youth group, and I fitted my head so perfectly onto the “on fire for Christ” look that you’d swear I was the real thing. In high school, I went back and forth between a legitimate believer and a glammed-up version of my spiritual self. When I finally got to college, I had configured a handful of evangelical variations of my true self: one for casual dating, one for relating intellectually to my professors, another for spouse-hunting, and a really good one for quiet times with God.

When your focus is on yourself, Christianity is a just a cool masquerade party. You can create whatever self-serving identity suits the moment. But the fourth chapter of the book of Hebrews says this about our hidden motives: Nothing in all creation is hidden from God. Everything is naked and exposed before his eyes, and he is the one to whom we are accountable.

Now I’m in trouble. The terrifying, beautiful, redemptive thing about the New Testament is that it constantly reminds me that external appearances don’t mean squat.

When I attended high school in Texas in the 1980s, I remember girls (and sometimes their big-haired mothers too) who would go to a store in the mall named Star Shots, a creepy faux-studio with plenty of pancake makeup. A couple of formula-trained photographers would glam up their clients and drape them over leopard skin rugs for an hour while clicking their shutters. For fifty bucks and a couple of hours, you could get a counterfeit version of yourself to hang in your foyer.

Jesus used different metaphors, but you can hear him attacking the Pharisees and lawgivers for the airbrushed 16 x 20 reproductions that they proudly hung in their synagogues. Paul also speaks to the church at Corinth this way: We refuse to wear masks and play games. We don't maneuver and manipulate behind the scenes. And we don't twist God's Word to suit ourselves. Rather, we keep everything we do and say out in the open, the whole truth on display, so that those who want to can see and judge for themselves in the presence of God. (2 Cor. 4:2)

The problem with taking Christianity into the studio is that the final product might bear little resemblance to the true Christ. The truth is supplanted by fiction—the Christ we invented rather than the Christ revealed in the Bible. It is because of this danger that Paul tells us For we do not preach ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord. (2 Cor. 4:5)

I’m afraid I’ve been guilty of photoshopped faith. I have felt the shame of airbrushing my own identity instead of letting the spirit of God clothe me. But today, because of God’s grace, I pray that I would be the same, through and through, whether you meet me in the sanctuary or in the street. In Erasmus’s words, I don’t want my life to be “presented by shadows” but under the clear, good light of Jesus Christ.

March for America

Crissy Brooks — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 21:45:00 -0700

As I was leaving our Hope Center celebration, the moon was full behind a high palm tree and someone was blasting a Spanish version of "I Just Called to Say I Love You". It had been one of those perfect moments you can't plan: smiling community leaders, weeping volunteers, chocolate faced kids, a full moon, and pretend Stevie Wonder. These are the moments I live for. If I believed in the stars aligning it would be the alignment of stars. But I don't. I believe in grace. I believe in power. I believe in the power of the grace of Christ to align the hearts of a Newport Beach debutante, an Oregon country girl, an ex-Mexican political campaigner, a handful of housewives, and college students and cocky teenage Mexican Americans. Only Jesus could bring this group together. And He did. There we were crammed into an apartment, glowing in the joy of having achieved a dream, of having opened this community center. As I walked toward home to the oompah of the Mexican Stevie Wonder, I reflected on the evening- there was Eric, the professional tutor who shows up twice a week to tutor Freddy, Juliet, the MissionYear graduate, who shared her cake with me. Then Andy, the faithful volunteer read a note from his student and looked up with tears in his eyes saying, "That's the best thing anyone could have given me." Juana bragged about her healthy salad and Claudia fretted if there would be enough food. Then there was America. America, the beautiful, the woman of grace who links us between languages and cultures. America, who confidently introduces herself and graciously thanks all who participate. She represents our hope. All our hope- the moms want a daughter like her, the tutors want a student like her, the leaders want a disciple like her. She is who we want other kids to grow up to be- one who loves Jesus, who loves the community, who graduated from college and works hard. She is our hope. She is also undocumented.

So this Sunday when 100,000 people March for America in Washington DC- it carries multiple meanings for me and my community. We need Comprehensive Immigration Reform for America- for the health of our country. And we need Comprehensive Immigration Reform for America- my neighbor, because she is exactly the kind of person I want leading our city. So take action for America. Send a petition to our lawmakers. Stand with immigrants by posting the picture here to your Facebook profile. Now is the time. America should not have to wait any longer.

Slavery in America: Numbers Out; People In

Carrie Nye — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 13:17:21 -0700

I’m done with numbers. Numbers are too black and white and just don’t seem good enough when dealing with human trafficking. Numbers are just numbers. They are only words spoken and lack any attachment or feeling and understanding. It’s just not that easy when it comes to buying and selling humans. And that is why. They are humans; not cattle. You can’t number them and move them along. We are complicated beings and require much more out of life and from each other than a number.

It’s important to hear survival stories of the rescued. Stories are bridge builders. They bring humanity together and open the door with an invitation to stay for dinner, serving a fine dish of common ground. Moms and dads are compassionate towards the world’s hungry children because they can’t imagine their own children being hungry. Women are moved by the Eastern Congo conflict where women are repeatedly raped and sexually mutilated by rebels and child soldiers because they know someone who has been sexually assaulted.

I find it is the same with human trafficking. The numbers are so big, the issue so overwhelming, it all seems so far away from our lives here in America. But that’s not the case at all.

I’ve mentioned in previous posts of this series that I met a beautiful young Egyptian woman, Shyima, not too long ago. Shyima is a local (Orange County, CA) survivor of domestic slavery. The article is a few years old now but I encourage you to read her story. She is not one million; she is one.

Stories like Shyima’s compel people to act because we can relate to her in someway through her story. We can all identify with her as a fellow human and created in the image of God. One million enslaved in America is a bit much. But if we’re talking about one, that’s a little easier to deal with.

So I encourage you to forget the numbers today and listen to only one. Consider the God who created all things, both the seen and the unseen and who also created Shyima. Consider the God who wants the best for his children and think about the children in your life and what you want for them. Consider the God who knows you more intimately than you know yourself. This is the God who although he created everything, became like his creation in the person of Christ so that he could reveal to us his story.

We identify with Jesus because of his humanity. God is no longer an overwhelming white-bearded-man who sits on a ginormous throne on some far away fluffy cloud. He came to us as a baby. It’s where our humanity started and it’s where he chose to begin his. When Jesus ascended back to heaven, we were given his spirit so that the story of God could reach not only our humanity, but our souls also. The spirit takes up residence within us when we surrender our lives story and enter his. The big far away God is now so close, we can talk to him, eat ice cream with him, surf with him, celebrate with him and take naps with him.

Stories are personal. I had the chance to meet Shyima. Her story is now personal to me and because of that I will do all that I can to prevent what happened to her from happening to other children. I will stop looking at the numbers as numbers and start considering the stories hiding behind them.

Some things to consider when being aware of a potential trafficked person:

A victim of trafficking may look like many people you see every day. However if you see someone who *appears to be unable to speak for themselves *someone else is controlling them *they appear fearful, especially of law enforcement *someone else has their documents (passport/identification) Then, you should call 888.3737.888 (National Human Trafficking Resource Center Hotline).

There are stories like Shyima’s all across America that need to be told. To hear more stories of modern day slavery survivors, check out the following links.

IJM

Free the Slaves

Stop the Traffik

Bend it Like Beck - Glenn gets the conversation started

Richard Dahlstrom — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 13:36:29 -0700

Glenn Beck, the celebrated conservative commentator had some things to say over the past week or so about "social justice" and "economic justice". It's easier to find commentaries on what he said, than it is to find what he actually said, but here's part of the exact words he spoke:

"I beg you, look for the words "social justice" or "economic justice" on your church Web site. If you find it, run as fast as you can. Social justice and economic justice, they are code words. Now, am I advising people to leave their church? Yes! If I'm going to Jeremiah's Wright's church? Yes! Leave your church. Social justice and economic justice. They are code words. If you have a priest that is pushing social justice, go find another parish"

Later we learn from Beck that these are code words for totalitarianism and communism, and that Christ only called people to change their own individual lives and responses, not to empower the government to intrude into the life of the free markets. "Jesus spoke only for individual compassion, not for governmental justice" according to Beck.

He's not alone in his critiques. Another commentator has critiqued that bastion of liberalism, "Wheaton College"(sarcasm intended) for promoting "anti-American" and "pro-Marxist" theories under the guise of social justice". The response of the Wheaton provost cuts to the heart of this problem. He said,

We equip our students to think carefully and biblically about issues of justice, and encourage them to commit to act justly throughout their lives as defined by a biblical worldview … There is an enormous difference between recognizing the tragic state of so many rural school systems and inner-city school systems that serve disproportionately minority constituencies as a justice issue of concern to God, on the one hand, and a radical, naturalistically-driven call for Marxist redistribution of wealth on the other

But this, it seems, is a distinction Beck and millions of his followers who know Jesus seem unable to make. Beck's vision is that the free markets will take care of everything, and that anyone who doesn't believe that favors totalitarianism, Naziism, and dictatorships. It is difficult to know how to respond, but I will try.

I'll begin by offending my friends on the left. I'm not convinced that the Bible has a much to say about the Christian call to motivate governments to act in certain ways to further justice. You don't find Jesus talking about mobilizing people, getting out the vote, pushing to make cross executions illegal, or petitioning for fairer taxation.

On the other hand, Jesus and Paul didn't live in a democratic society whose vision was government of the people, by the people, and for the people. In other words, the option of affecting government policy wasn't real in Paul and Jesus' day. We're not in such times anymore, having been granted the incredible privilege of helping shape our policies by electing people.

In fact, Beck and many of his followers would be quick to remind us that our country is founded on the theistic values of individual freedom and dignity. One challenge, of course, comes from the realization that nobody is advocating for ultimate freedom. Conservatives want unrestricted markets in business but want to regulate morality, from life in the womb to how a family is defined. Liberals want to define the limits of corporate powers, but be left alone in the bedroom.

The debate about the size of government and it's level of involvement in our lives good and important. This segues into the subject of "social justice". If we claim to be a country founded on God's principles, perhaps we'd better recognize that God's reign was far, far, from the libertarianism espoused these days. Provisions were made for the poor, the widow, and the immigrant, when God was king back in the day. Taxation paid for caring for the poor, and God was more than a little involved in making sure that wealth was redistributed about every 50 years (you've heard of the year of Jubilee?) so that the rich had limited powers to oppress the poor.

If you tell me that our nation is founded on principles handed down by God, I'll tell you that God had a lot to say about public health, sanitation, care for the poor, and economics. He also had a lot to say about protecting the least of these, including the little ones not yet born. He apparently didn't stop caring about these things when Israel asked for a king, because in the prophets, the calls for justice are everywhere, including here and here.

This post isn't about whether Democrats or Republicans are getting it right. Instead, I'm offering the observation that how people apply their faith to their politics is nuanced, and a challenging issue, determined by a blend of Jesus passive relationship with Rome and the ethics of God's theocracy. Can we please be patient with each other and drop the communist, and Nazi labels, recognizing that this territory isn't as clearly defined as our friends on either the left or the right would have us believe.

Forgive and forget?

Jeff Hopper — Wed, 17 Mar 2010 09:19:39 -0700

I won’t venture to guess how many people have really been waiting for this day, but this morning’s papers bring news of yesterday’s announcement from Tiger Woods: he’s coming back for the Masters. Far too much opinion has been offered on this matter already. I won’t go there.

Meanwhile, the experts are high again on one Kobe Bean Bryant, the oft-titled “best player in the game,” whose nearly 28 points per game have again powered the Lakers to the top of the Western Conference and have the professional guessers speculating as to the possibility of an eleventh title for coach Phil Jackson.

Ah, Tiger and Kobe.

Linked by greatness. And by sexual calamity.

Two men needing forgiveness. As you and I do, of course--in the salvific sense of having not one breath of a chance without Jesus.

I’ve been emailed a number of times in recent months by those who want to know whether this message is being sent particularly to Tiger. I’ve never had any contact with Tiger myself, but I cross paths with some who do, some who care about his soul. They assure me that messages have been sent Tiger’s way, not only in the Brit Hume sort of public opinion, but through personal avenues. We know that, for now, Tiger has chosen to return to his Buddhist roots, rather than “look to Jesus,” as they say. Keep praying.

But the Lord’s forgiveness is not really what I am talking about here.

I wonder instead about us, the folks who buy the tickets and watch the ads that foot the TV bills and read the magazines that tout the greatness of these guys. I wonder about our willingness to forgive.

In a way, it should be easy for us to forgive a Tiger or a Kobe for admitted transgressions. Their actions didn’t crash down upon our homes, except for having to break the news to our kids that yet another “hero” has, take your pick, (a) kicked sand in the face of his marriage, (b) toted a gun like an apocalyptic movie warrior for no safe reason, (c) abused--or even just “experimented with--any of the long list of drugs we’ve warned our kids to steer far clear of, because no smart person would get involved with that garbage. We won’t extend the list. You get the idea.

Their actions, though, haven’t sent my wife to counseling or court or the jewelry store. They haven’t required me to head to rehab. They haven’t made my children the target of juvenile derision or deranged photogs in their schools.

No, all their actions have done is make me ask of myself: How much can I forgive? How much can I forget?

Jesus told Peter to forgive those seventy times (or seventy times seven). But street wisdom sounds pretty good, too: “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.”

Maybe the twain do meet.

I should forgive, because I need so desperately myself to be forgiven, for habits of my heart and mind—the invisible source of visible sin. And for the sins themselves.

But perhaps I should not forget. Perhaps I should remember the grave sins of others, as lessons and warnings to me, as echoes of my own fragility. Perhaps I should remember, too, so that I cease this endless American penchant for attaching labels of awe to men who are in too many ways just like me.

Five Questions for Laura Story

Laura Story — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 15:12:56 -0700

Laura Story is an accomplished songwriter and recording artist who penned the worship anthem, "Indescribable." She is also the lead spokesman for the Catalyst Music Project and recorded the first single, "What a Savior." Laura recently took time out from her busy tour schedule to answer Five Questions from ConversantLife.

You've got a great name for someone whose passion it is to tell the story of God's love through music. How much influence has your name had on your work?

Well, I’ve never really thought about it. But it is kinda strange how that works out. I do find that the only thing worth sharing with anyone is how God’s grace intersects our story. Our whole lives are simply stories of God’s faithfulness.

Your bio says that you were once an aspiring symphony conductor. Did you have lofty aspirations to be the next Leonard Bernstein, or did you just enjoy telling other musicians what to do?

That’s pretty funny. I really wasn’t that far into professional symphonic music but I have always loved playing in orchestras and was very interested in doing that vocationally. God definitely has used my classical training to help me understand the ins and outs of music and to make me a better songwriter.

A lot of people probably don't know that you wrote the song, "Indescribable," which Chris Tomlin recorded and made famous. That song has to be in the top ten of worship songs of all time. What's it like to write a song that so many people sing every week as an anthem of praise to God?

It is pretty crazy to think about what God has done with the song Indescribable. It was the first worship song I had ever written and I remember singing it with my college worship team in our campus chapel services. I am thankful that God used me to be the vessel to write it and hope theat the glory continues to go to Him alone.

So are you a songwriter who sings, or a singer who writes songs?

I am more of a songwriter who sings. I started as a songwriter who played bass and let other people in the band sing my songs; but over the years, God has really drawn me out of my comfort zone. I’ve never had a flashy voice. I can’t do any Mariah Carey-like vocal acrobatics but God has given me a voice that is sufficient to sing the songs he has placed in my heart. I am reminded each time I get up in front of people that serving God isn’t about being the best; its about being obedient.

You are currently the spokesperson for the Catalyst Music Project, and the song you recorded, "What a Savior," is the lead song. Tell us about the Project and how you came to be involved.

I have a great deal of respect for the Catalyst Conference. I am a worship leader at a church in north Atlanta and, over the years, I have seen Catalyst train, equip and inspire countless worship leaders in our area and all over the globe. This new step they have taken in adding Catalyst Music Project is just another example of that: equipping leaders of local churches by sharing songs written by leaders of local churches. I am excited to see what God will do through these great songs.

Muslims are killing Christians in Nigeria. Will we respond like Christ or like humans?

Mark Russell — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 12:07:15 -0700

Over the weekend I tweeted and updated my facebook status with the simple statement: Muslims killing Christians in Nigeria followed by a simple question: Will we respond like Christ or like humans? It’s always interesting what captures people’s imaginations and provokes response.

After a year of conversations on facebook, I was still amazed at the response the simple status update received. Feel free to check it out here: http://bit.ly/auO0bH

Reflecting on responses, the following points are worth of mentioning:

1) There is no emotion like religious emotion.

Wars over the centuries have demonstrated that religions are frequently front and center in every war. Religious emotion is a product of two things as I see it. First, it is an indicator that people genuinely care. If they didn’t care, they wouldn’t get so upset.

Extrapolate this to relationships, we feel pain or get upset if someone offends our spouse, but our heart beat will barely increase if we see a stranger offend another stranger on the subway.

However, there is also a more sinister reason religious emotion is so hot, namely it is a reflection of insecurity. In almost any form of debate when someone’s argument is weak they will resort to speaking harshly, even shouting, or otherwise spewing forth emotion to distract from the weakness of their argument.

The same is true in religious contexts. When people are insecure in their beliefs or faith, they cover it with emotion. This is largely a subconscious act. Generally the insecure actor is unaware of his/her constant need to cover for his/her insecurity.

2) Who is we and who are they?

One astute facebook friend asked me at one point who was meant by “we” in my question. When I tweeted it, I was actually thinking of “we” as everyone not in Nigeria.

But I have noticed periodically that there is a certain sloppiness in defining “us” and in defining “them.” We are the Christians. They are the Muslims. We are Americans. They are Arabs.

Not only do these “us-them” categories continue to reinforce stereotypes and maintain barriers, but hey are also frequently inaccurate. A few years ago while teaching a class on Arabs at Asbury Seminary, a student brought up how they (Arabs) are killing us (Christians) in Nigeria. Actually, there are no Arabs (perhaps a few) in Nigeria. There are Muslims but this is not synonymous with Arabs, who are a people group, and of which quite a few are actually Christians!

This misunderstanding had caused the student and undoubtedly many others to extend the terror acts of a few Middle Easterners to the situation in Nigeria.

The reality is that these are exceptionally different situations and the situation in Nigeria is more akin to inter-tribal warfare than anything else.

Sadly enough in Nigeria, Christians have also murdered hundreds of Muslims. Even sadder, I have even heard Nigerian church leaders say that Christians should arm themselves like a militia. But is that really the answer?

3) Who kills us?

Every single people group I’ve ever visited in every single country I’ve visited (and I’ve been to over 70 countries) has another group that they stigmatize, don’t like and more often, hate.

What the groups do not tend to recognize is that they are more generally killed, persecuted, cheated, lied to, etc…by people within their own group. This is true for Christians as well. Who is the number one killer of Christians worldwide?....(drum roll)….Answer: Other Christians.

Last year, I wanted to travel with a Rwandan friend to Congo. Rwanda is a “Christian” country where roughly a million Christians were murdered by other Christians in 1994. Congo is also a Christian country, where four million Christians have been murdered by other Christians in the last decade. Unfortunately, my contacts in Congo told me to not come with my Rwandan friend, pointing out that Rwandans are generally hated and are frequently hunted down and murdered in Congo.

This is true in the US as well. Christian militia groups like the KKK hunted down other Christians and killed them. “Christian” Timothy McVeigh killed scores of Christians in Oklahoma City. Eric Rudolf, acting on his understanding of his Christian faith, planted a bomb in Olympic Park. The list goes on.

Granted followers of Christ will not look on these deviations as valid expressions of our faith. The same debate rages inside Islam.

The point is: Christians kill Christians more than anyone else does.

4) The New Way

When Jesus came and proclaimed himself to be the way, the truth and the life (John 14:6), he gave us all a radically new way of living life and responding to the hostile acts of others.

The teachings of Jesus are legendary: turn the other cheek, love your enemy, etc…

They are so commonplace in church circles that I’m afraid they’ve become like canned food, something that is always in the cupboard but something we infrequently use or even really know what it is.

Have we really considered what it means to turn the other cheek and to love our “enemy”? Generally speaking, I don’t think we have.

After 9-11, I remember watching a well-known Evangelical church leader say that we should respond with everything in our military arsenal. I was saddened that he didn’t say something like prayer.

Shortly thereafter I emailed over a thousand people and asked them to join me in praying for the redemption and forgiveness of Al-Qaeda operatives. I was surprised at some of the hostility displayed by otherwise loving Christians to the very idea of loving these enemies through prayer.

A year or so ago, I was in Pennsylvania and saw the location where a mad man locked up and tied up Amish children and shot the little girlsin the back of the head.

The Amish responded to the senseless and heinous act of violence by raising the site, lest it cause them bitterness, committed these children to the Lord and chose to love their “enemy” by forgiving the man (who committed suicide) and choosing to financially support his widow and children.

When I’ve told that story to other Christians, they frequently try to explain why this was not a necessary step on behalf of the Amish. Or they resort to referring to the Amish as a cult. Or some other line of commentary that prevents them from ever having to practice turning the other cheek like the Amish did.

Recently, I was at a conference and an anti-nuclear activist suggested that if there was a nuclear attack on US soil, that 95% of Christians would push for a retaliatory nuclear attack. I’m afraid he’s right.

Do we look at persecution as an opportunity to live the new way of Christ, turning the other cheek, loving our enemy or do we seek to justify a violence-based response.

Muslims are killing Christians in Nigeria. Will we respond like Christ or like humans?