100 until One Hundred

We’ve made it. Well, really life is just as it has been, but with my fundraiser we’re at the 100 day countdown! This is exciting. Mainly because it allows for me to be excited in a super cheesy way about The Hundred Movement. 100 days until The Hundred Movement! Yes!

If you’ve read previous posts, or the blurb on my fundraiser site you’ll know what I’m doing and know a little bit about how I heard of this opportunity and why I’m wanting to be a part of it. But other than just a quick few paragraphs I haven’t explained much. So I’ll begin.

This world breaks my heart. How I interact with people does the same thing. I do not treat people the way they should be and I do not allow myself to be treated as the precious creation I am. And I want that to change, and I believe that change can start within. Our mindsets igniting fires throughout this nation, sparking revolutions (dreaming big is the only way to dream). I want people to know just how great they are. Just how cherished they are away from the often hollow “Jesus loves you” phrase that you hear through the grinning faces of friends making jokes. Not to say it isn’t true, but it is certainly overlooked and these words are often watered down. I don’t want to be a watered down christian. And I don’t want to be in a community of diluted believers–I don’t want there to be any perception of dilution in Christians globally. But I know myself. And I find myself lazy, and discouraged, and unengaged with the Lord. It’s easy to be, it’s human nature. That has to be one my favorite things about Jesus. That He’ll always understand that and be next to you pushing you, eagerly wanting you to be bold in your beliefs. But I’ve digressed.

The other day I was reading and this stuck out to me. Actually, I was trying to find a stupid quote about adventure and predicaments and to be honest I read it on Instagram, loved it, and now I can’t find the user who posted it because I follow too many freakin’ people. Anyways, while I was on my search I found a preview of a book that said:

His was the voice of eager love calling us away from our sins to a new adventure. He was calling us to righteousness, to open up our hearts to the power of God, to open our eyes to a new vision of life. He was calling to us to change the course of the world by changing the course of our lives. The word “repent,” in the Greek language “metanoia,” means “change your attitude.” Commitment to God does exactly that. There is no answer to our modern predicament until we answer. The answer is in our answer. Will we repent of our God Ignoring and our Divine Destiny Doubting? Will we answer His call to commitment no matter how excruciating or immense the cost? Until we do we will not be able to give our children the awareness of His importance that is essential to righteousness.

The words in bold font are the ones that really struck me and explain simply why I’ve chosen to pursue something a lot of people do not understand. Believe it or not, people think I’m kinda nuts for wanting to get involved with the abolition of human trafficking. But looking at the bigger picture, past the exploitative industry that it is, to the specific soul involved, the individual is just a mere child as you and I are. Sure, they may have a different story then you, but we all come from different backgrounds carrying all sorts of heavy burdens. In the end we just need lovin’ and to be known.  We’re all just scared children at the heart of it. So, I’m answering this calling He has placed in my heart, that I might embody repentance and reveal God’s true importance to the other children of God I encounter on this path. Together may we no longer waver in awareness of His importance and together may we rejoice in the freedom He has bestowed upon all of us.

The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because He has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to set free the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor (Luke 4:18-19).

With great adoration I will strive to mimic my savior.
-TheRealChloeJayne

If you’re interested in donating to my fundraiser there should be a picture to the left (scroll up a bit) you can click and be rerouted to my fundraising page. If, in actuality, there is not a picture and you have no idea what I’m talking about click here.

Lyman, Howard A. “The Ressurgance of Righteousness.” The Bigger Picture of Life. Bloomington, IN: Authorhouse, 2009. 88. The Bigger Picture. Google Books. Web.

Animal Sacrifices and the Power of Times New Roman

I don’t think I realize what Jesus has done for me. Actually I know that I do not. Every time I open the bible though, He becomes more living. He becomes more visible than before. Each time I go through a portion of the bible I can visualize more of the situation, I can begin to smell the breeze, maybe the soft scent of grass, or maybe the dry smell and feeling of kicked up dirt the crowds made as they followed behind Jesus just trying to get a glimpse.

Today, one of the pastors at the church I go to spoke about sacrifice and atonement. And before he began his sermon he gave such great emphasis on how important words are and the power they hold, and because he mentioned this importance I seemed to have clued into them more. And for that I am grateful. I heard things crafted much more elegantly than in other sermons, and because of this tightly-knitted attention to his diction I had, clearer images were formed and the verses he announced were not stories, but vivid memories.

Leviticus 16 goes into detail of animal sacrifices and specifically brings the reader into the holy of holies (referring to a sanctuary area), and as I am standing breathless in the corner, tucked into a shadow I see a man dipping his hand into the blood of the sacrificed bull and can hear him murmuring while steadily flicking his fingers toward the altar.  And it’s from my place in the corner that the warm smell of blood, mixed with the fluids of the bull’s body, and weathered coat that the bible came alive.  It becomes so much more than straight cut figures on a page. I can hear the ticks against the altar as the blood flecks its surface. Aaron (Moses’ brother) becomes flesh before my eyes.  Aaron becomes real and his words become audible–they’re no longer murmurs faintly making their way to my ears– as he makes atonement for not only himself, but also his household. From my corner I can hear him breathe over his wife and children and I can hear him breathe through his insecurities and I can hear the grit in his voice when he speaks of the wrongdoings brought from himself or maybe his wife, or even one of his sons. Maybe the youngest, the one he holds so highly–the one that is falling from the grace he expected in him. From my corner, the bible is no longer black letters in Times New Roman font, but real lives and real obedience. And as I reflected on these verses, Leviticus 16:21-22 (HCSB):

Aaron will lay both his hands on the head of the live goat and confess over it all the Israelites’ wrongdoings and rebellious acts–all their sins. He is to put them on the goat’s head and send it away into the wilderness by the man appointed for the task. The goat will carry on it all their wrongdoings into a desolate land, and he will release it there. 

My mind flashed images of Jesus. Jesus living and traveling this earth meeting people, hearing their stories, and healing them. I read these two verses numerous times, and it wasn’t until the third or fourth time that I visually saw Jesus as the comparison to the goat (Hebrews 13:11-12*). I immediately imagined hands over Him, hands of prayer from all over, arms reaching out to touch Him in comfort and in desperation; He’s kneeling in the center of the group, his dark hair dirty and stringy as it falls past His cheeks, and people are praying over Him, and people are praying for themselves–confessing their wrongdoings and rebellious acts; all their sins. I fast forward and I see the goat being sent into the wilderness, hobbling over and slipping on shifting rocks, carrying out all the wrongdoings to release them into a desolate land–I see Jesus frailly making his way up to, Golgotha; Calvary. He makes His way up the hill to release our burden and shame we had with sin. And it is no longer, Jesus boldly cried out with His last breath, “Tetelestai!,” “It is finished!” and interposed His blood. And the wildest thing of all, is that he did if for joy*.

So whatever you find yourself doing…do it for joy. See lives changed through actions rooted in joy and in love.
-TheRealChloeJayne

*Hebrews 13:11-12 (HCSB): For the bodies of those animals whose blood is brought into the holy of holies by the high priest (Aaron) as a sin offering…there for Jesus also suffered outside the gate, so that He might sanctify the people by His own blood.
*He did it for joy…Romans 12:2, Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.

The sermon that inspired this entry can be found here.

The Body of Christ and Hats

“Actually, we request you handle it by the brim.” They always look up at you shocked. “Yessir, the brim,” I motioned to the sides of my own hat. He peered from the corner of his glasses from me back to the felt hat pinched tightly between his worn fingers and fumbled to grip the sides with an exasperated apology. “It’s alright, sir, a hard habit to break,” I said smiling, stepping back, and standing nearby waiting for anything else I could assist him with.

I work in a hat store. A haberdashery of some sorts. I didn’t ever think that was where I would work when I’d have my first job. I don’t think anybody really does. Not anymore at least. I hadn’t a clue they really existed any longer to be honest, I guess I knew they did, but you don’t usually find yourself thinking specifically about whether or not there is a nearby “haberdashery.” It’s strange. To be truthful, I landed the job because of my mother. She had gotten a job within the store, but I don’t like saying that, because I think when I tell people I work with my mother, at a hat store, I think it makes her sound a few pay grades under her beautiful, fantastic soul. I usually end that conversation with, “No, she does the important stuff in the office,” people nod wearily. Anyways, the woman recruited me for unpacking and checking-in shipments, and that was that. But after awhile, I was switched from the back of the store, where the not-so-organized inventory is held, to the front of the store where you have to wear presentable clothing (Hey! Clothing, I told you…I’m getting better at wearing it), and know a thing or two about hats–which I didn’t, but now I know at least a thing–“Yessir, the brim.” I’ve been working at this local shop going on four years now. Off and on, and part-time, but four years. And with a strange turn of events, I am now in charge of taking pictures of hats for our website.

I felt my phone buzzing in my pocket as I was ushered into the shop by the cold wind. I had missed a call from my manager, and as I began to redial, the store phone rang. “We need a dark and a light colored hat, and grab a fascinator.” I exchanged a few smiles with customers and bantered with a fellow employee as I made my rounds picking out hats before I disappeared with my camera. And it was in the dim lit warehouse we have at the back of the store, when I was adjusting, and dusting, and brushing off the hats, that it is a hard habit to break. I focused my lens on the smooth grey beaver fur of a Stetson hat, zooming in to capture the right lighting and color, and then back out to catch the entirety of the hat. The fibers all swayed in one direction, all swooping counter-clockwise, all bringing the different strands of fur from that one layer of felt to make up this reasonably small, delicately crafted, hat. My mind drifted to the body of Christ. And then back to the conversation I had earlier with that customer, “Only by the brim, Sir.” So much expectation for these new people in the store, so much that they fumble and sometimes apologize multiple times. But I’m not there to scold them, I’m there to help correct them so they don’t continue to make the same mistakes, damaging the hats. My mind drifts back to the body of Christ and how I fit into that. I’ve had to learn how to act as a woman of Christ, and I still haven’t mastered it, I don’t think I’ll ever fully understand how to, I know for certain I don’t always portray myself as one, although I really do wish I would. And as I fumble and apologize because I handle certain situations foully, or don’t glorify Him the way that I should, or have been taught how, I know that He isn’t mad at me. He isn’t waiting nearby to scold me when human nature kicks in. I have a lot of things that are simply hard habits to break and He waits patiently, standing nearby, assisting me in my adjustments.

–TheRealChloeJayne