Holy Reservation

A couple of weeks ago, I got an email from Chick-Fil-A about a new "Spicy Chicken Sandwich" and how you needed to print out the email to reserve one of these delectable delights for your very own.

I didn't think much about it. After all, I've sort of had my fill of Chick-Fil-A because of the recent spirit nights, random drive through runs with my roommate Megan, and having to pick up a fireplace (long Story)

So needless to say, I didn't reserve my Spicy Chicken Sandwich, despite my love for those Cows with poor grammar and my affinity for all things spicy.

So today, I was supposed to get off of work early. I didn't, at least, not as early as I would have liked. I left early enough, however, to be able to drive ALL THE WAY OUT WEST to the mall where I had hosted one of my spirit nights two weeks ago. I rarely have ANY extra time nowadays, with all the working and fundraising and socializing I've been putting into my schedule.

Lately, I've decided that while I'm in the car, I'm going to either leave the radio off, or listen to music that I find "worshipful" or "uplifting." Today was a no music day. I try to "Pray" when the music is off, because I've found with all my extra "socializing", that I seem to have a TON of new friends, all with their own problems, issues, and what not.

How many people have I told that I would pray for them? How many of those prayers go unsaid because I forget? Feeling very convicted, I prayed all the way to Chick-Fil-A, (which is a 30 minute drive both ways) and realized that most of my prayers go something like this:

"Lord please be with So and so's uncle who is still in rehab. Please be with my Godson Lider, and all of the other boys in the orphanage. Remember my friend, who is struggling to understand what it means to have faith in you. . ."

And the list goes on. I never really know what God thinks of those two second prayers. I mean, what else am I supposed to say to Him that He doesn't ALREADY know?

As I arrive at Chick-Fil-A, I go up to the counter, expecting it to be busy because today is the day where all those people who DID reserve their "Spicy Chicken Sandwich" finally get to tantalize their taste buds. Surprisingly, there wasn't much of a crowd. So I wait in line patiently, and lo and behold, one of the kids (Katie) who I work with in youth group appears from behind the counter.

Katie, and her twin sister Hannah, work at this Chick-Fil-A part time. "Have you tried the new chicken spicy chicken sandwich?" Katie asks.

"No," I reply.

"Well it's gross. It's really spicy. Remember how they had that 'Spiciest Hot Sauce on the Planet' stuff at youth group a couple of weeks ago? And how all the boys that tried it were crying and throwing up? That's how spicy it is."

That comment makes me smile. Katie has a tendency to exaggerate. "I doubt it's that spicy," I say. However, I'm fully intrigued, because I really want to know how spicy it really is, however I watch as another customer tries to order the sandwich, and the Chick-Fil-A associate politely tells her that "We're not actually SELLING it yet. We only have enough for the people who 'RESERVED' one. Seeing as how my stomach was still full from a four seasons lunch, I wasn't all that interested anyway.

"I'm sure I'll try it in the future," I wonder aloud to Katie, who is walking up to her sister and her mom, who's there to pick them up from work.

Turns out, her mom was chatting with the Marketing Director, Angela, whom I've only spoken with on the phone. Angela was the nice woman who set up my Spirit night, so it was actually nice to put a name to a face.

We chatted for awhile, about things I certainly can't remember, though I do recall telling her about how amazing my life is. "I get to paint, play with children, and do missions. My life is fantastic." As we're talking, up walks Angela's husband, (to my shame I can't remember his name.. I think I'll call him Ray) who is holding his very own Spicy Chicken Sandwich.

After introductions, Angela quickly switches topics: "Oh Kirsten! Have you tried our new Spicy Chicken Sandwich??"

Are you kidding? "No, I haven't actually. I didn't reserve one. . ." I kind of mumble, chuckling to myself. I'm slowly convincing myself that all the hype around this sandwich is going to cause it to fall flat on its face.

"You have to try one!" she continues. "Go up to the counter and just ask for one! Or better yet, HERE. . ." she says as she takes the sandwich out of her husband's hands and thrusts it into mine.

I try to refuse. "Well, actually, I don't want to take his sandwich," (to which she answers, "He'll get another!") and "But I just ate. . ." and that's the truth. "Besides, I just started a diet with my roommates and I know they'll be upset if I sneak a sandwich. . . ."

At that point, I think I had given up and reluctantly took the sandwich I didn't really want. Simply because of the calories, and I knew I wouldn't be able to resist eating it. . . it just smelled so good.

After a few more kind words, I tote the warm sandwich, fresh in wrapper and place it next to the OTHER leftovers I had from lunch at the hotel (where I work.)

I begin driving home, and I resume my prayers. "Dear Lord, please remember my brothers. . . oh I don't even know what to say anymore." And I start over with all of the people I had promised to pray for.

Then something happened. I got really tired of praying for people. There are just so many! I began to get a little frustrated. . . my prayers became more desperate. "God, how can I possibly remember to pray for all of these people? I don't understand how I'm supposed to keep up. . . I don't understand how YOU can keep up!"

I think, what happened, is that somewhere along the highway lines I started praying for real. God began to show me my weaknesses, and began to reveal a fraction of the Love that He has for others. Somehow, he keeps us all in His hands, our lives, the lives of the people in the cars next to us. I begin to think about the severity of my sin, and I begin to thank God for choosing someone like me. I am so surrounded by His love. He gave me a freaking Spicy Chicken Sandwich. God cares enough about me to bless me with little notes of affection, things I enjoy, because He somehow finds joy in ME.

Who am I to stand in that knowledge? Who am I to stand in His stead, and preach His suffering and His salvation? Do I have the courage to take up that suffering? Do I REALLY want what I SAY I want?

And then a stark reality hit me. One of my newest and dearest friends and I had a conversation a couple of nights ago about JUST HOW SERIOUS the bible should be taken. If it REALLY is the Word of God, then SHOULDN'T we be doing what it says?? Why AREN'T we praying for the sick and then they are miraculously healed? Why AREN'T we loving our neighbor as ourselves? Why AREN'T we casting out demons?

I didn't really have an answer for her then. I think I might now. Because she's right. Why aren't we taking this Gospel, this Good news, as SERIOUS as it should be taken? We have the answer to LIFE, not just in the reality of hell, but LIFE MORE ABUNDANTLY, HERE on earth! There is a better way! Why aren't we taking hold of that and PREACHING it like there is no tomorrow? Because for some of us, there really IS NO tomorrow??

Tears began to stream from my eyes as my prayers turned into, "Dear Jesus, I love you. Please, I WANT this to be real, I don't want this to be something I just talk about. I want to know you better, I want to fast, I want to read my bible. I want to love others as YOU have loved them!! Please, make this real!"

My answer didn't come audibly, for once. Rather, it came in the form of a man on the side of the road. He had a bright yellow shirt, and was sitting on a five gallon bucket with a HUGE white sign that simply said: HUNGRY

I instantly pulled over (after a few u-turns, as I had seen him after I had already driven past) and I opened my window. Trying to keep my composure, I asked him: "How hungry are you?"

"What?" he replied.

I picked up my leftovers first to show him, and he rushed over to my car. Then I looked down at my warm, Spicy Chicken Sandwich. "What is your name?" I asked him.

"Pablo."

"Do you like spicy food, Pablo?"

"Yeah!"

"Well I have one of these new Spicy Chicken Sandwiches from Chick-Fil-A. Would you like that?"

"Yes! God bless you!"

"Do you want this too?" I held up my turkey wrap (which looks really healthy)

"Uh, no. You can keep that."

"God Bless you, Pablo."

He waved, and I was off.

My prayers turned into: "Dear Lord, please be with Pablo. Let him. . . oh I don't know. I don't know what he needs. But You do."

I didn't ever make a reservation for one of those stupid sandwiches. But apparently, Pablo had. I just didn't know it. I continued on to home, asking God to forgive a wretched soul like me, and thanking Him for doing so. I love God. To love someone is to obey them when they ask something of you. Why shouldn't I give the world up? It's so small compared to what I have already been given.

The Dichotomy Of Self

These past few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. I have been told I needed to write more by multiple people, and I always wonder what it is they really want to hear from me.
I've been overwhelmed with so many blessings, while at the same time, I seem to be struggling with the overwhelming of my spirit as well.
I don't know what bodes so ill for me, as I can look at my life now and finally see myself in the mirror, as opposed to the wretched sinner I once was. I can truly like the person I see, and yet, I know the flesh awaits in the corner, ready to pounce.
I believe it all started with the youth camping trip, as it was the first night I got to use the tent my parents bought me. An amazing, expensive tent, with which I find no joy because I feel like my parents purchased it for me out of guilt. . . and so I wonder how many times this next year I will stare at the mustard yellow interior of that ripstop wall and hate myself for manipulating my mom and dad into purchasing this for me.
That, coupled with no sleep on a cold (nay, FREEZING) ground and muffled country music made me realize at 4am, that I will be doing this for 11 MONTHS. I can't sleep for ONE NIGHT, and I want to do this for 11 MONTHS? Falling into temptation, I realize that I can't even muster the self control I pretended to have for so many months.
Going home, looking at other World Racer photos with my new roommate, made me realize I was going to be leaving these new (and amazing) friendships behind.
Are you kidding me, God? I FINALLY feel healthy enough to actually have REAL friendships, based on Your love instead of co-dependency? And I have to leave them all behind for a YEAR?
AND IT'S ALREADY MARCH?
Who are these people that continue to sing MY praises? Don't they know who YOU are?
And today. . . after all the terrible dreams I can't suddenly seem to ignore, I watch as a man crashes on his bike in the middle of a busy intersection. He isn't moving, his head is cut and the parched concrete seems to vomit this man's life blood all over the ground.
And people just drive on by. . .
What is this life You have given me, Lord? Just a year ago, I remember crying out to You, telling you I can't, and You repeating, "I can do all things through Christ." A simple and strange Dichotomy, my life has become. I can see the Spirit move and the Flesh cower. I feel my sinful nature revolt against my soul and the war has become clearer than ever, but NEVER have the stakes seemed so high.
How I revel in my Health but how I long to return to the strange satisfaction of my shame.
Oh my Lord, please remind me that all of my hope is in you. I thirst for you, as the humility I have swallowed is as dry as the sand. Satisfy me, dear Jesus. May you be all that I need. May you shine brighter than I can ever hope to, regardless of how many matches I burn my fingers on.

My World Race Video

"I'm on a race!"
Movie? (rat race...)

anyway. Here is my promo video I made for my race. :)

Kirsten George World Race 2010 from kirsten george on Vimeo.

Godquest Synopsis

I entered a contest on www.xomba.com, which basically involves me pitching my story idea. The grand prize is a chance to talk to New York Times Bestseller Steve Alten (who wrote the book Meg and Goliath) for 30 minutes.

Second place is $200. I'd definitely settle for second.

So I am posting this here as sort of a copyright "backup plan." If someone decides to "steal my idea," besides kill them, I'm going to sue the pants off of them. I understand that may not be the best Christian perspective... but.. i'm just trying to protect myself. Meanwhile, tell me what you think!! :)

Godquest Synopsis:

Logline: Nathaniel, a devout monk of the world’s only religion, finds himself in danger of doubting his faith when his brethren turn on him, revealing a plot to subdue the world with a self fulfilling prophecy. . . . .but how do you fight an empire whose biggest pawn is a god?

Synopsis: In a war torn world where religion is law and faith is magical, a young religious ambassador named Nathaniel discovers his worst enemy may very well be his own righteousness. Suffering from re-occurring nightmares, Nathaniel quickly realizes his fears when he discovers his mentor, High Priest Trent, worshipping the very creature that plagues his dreams.

Trent quickly captures Nathaniel and has him beaten within inches of his life, and throws him out into the blizzard to die. Hallucinating, Nathaniel imagines a dark future ruled by the Religion of the Morning Star, and its dark god, a powerful, malevolent creature known only as The Unseen. As his life slowly ebbs away, Nathaniel sees four warriors, beings clothed in light, who rise to challenge the religious empire and its deity-like emperor.

Nathaniel is rescued from death, and quickly begins to search for answers and hope. As a former Ambassador, he is able to make a connection with the King of B’Ron. Unfortunately, the kingdom is on the brink of war as the princess has been kidnapped by a neighboring kingdom, and the land is on the verge of war. The king will hear nothing of Nathaniel’s plight until his daughter is safe. Desperate, Nathaniel and the Prince of B’Ron, Killian, hatch a plot to rescue the princess. Prince Killian pressures Nathaniel to lie about having discovered the IL’ Luminae, or ancient Warriors of Light, the very beings of Nathaniel had a vision of earlier.

Uncertain of how else to proceed, Nathaniel agrees to the ruse, and finds the first four able bodied people he can find to portray as heroes. Leo, an arrogant disgraced swordsman, his friend Kal who specializes in hand to hand combat and bad jokes, Lann, a self righteous healer with a habit of martyrdom, and her “brother” Slik, who appears to be treading the threshold of death’s door, agree to help Nathaniel, each with their own agenda. Leo and Kal simply want to get paid, while Lann knows it is the right thing to do. Slik simply doesn’t seem to care either way.

The situation intensifies, as the four warriors succeed in their task, above and beyond, and are instantly recruited by the King of B’Ron for more work, to Nathaniel’s dismay, as he intended the lie to end with the rescue of the princess, but when the Empire gets wind of the rumors of the IL’ Luminae, all of the forces of darkness rise up to confront this threat, and the four warriors have no idea, nor are they prepared for what awaits them.

Nathaniel then must make a decision; to turn himself in to the Religion that wants him dead, saving the lives of four innocent people, or pray to a God he’s not sure exists for their protection while he attempts to find a way to stop the Empire.

Meanwhile, Nathaniel’s sanity seems to be slipping through his fingers. . . as a small voice in his mind keeps chipping away at his resolve. . . and threatening the very peace he’s fought so hard for.

Too busy to write

It has bee a little while since my last blog post... I have simply been so busy that every time I think about writing I simply pass out. Of course, staying up to finish a last minute video doesn't help...
Christmas and New Year passed without warning.. I think it is because I went to Bolivia for Christmas, and I didn't work this New Year like I normally do. It is all so strange and alien, to me, this life of mine.
I've had many a conversation lately, with different friends, and they all have been telling me the same thing.
I talk about the things going on in my life, and as I reflect about what has happened, and how things are so different, I'm reminded about how powerful God really is.
One of my dear friends, Elena, after I had confessed how much I used to hate kids and the Latin American culture, told me, "Wow, God really did a number on you."
and then another one of my friends echoed that statement, "Kirsten, you have really come into your own. Your confidence stands out."
I love being told things like this, not because I like to think about "how awesome I am," but rather, how much God has changed me. And other people have noticed.
I used to tell people that God was working in my life, years ago, and I remember someone I used to hold in high regard tell me, "Kirsten, I feel like you're telling people that for attention." I remember how much that hurt, because I really felt like God had been working in me. Now, it is great to have people tell me they see the change, because I don't have to broadcast it to make it real.
For the first time in my life, a couple of days ago, I woke up fearless. I remember thinking, it didn't matter what I did, or how little money I made doing it, because I KNEW this was exactly where I was supposed to be. The future is still uncertain, but I am no longer afraid of it. If anything, I'm excited. I'm excited that God thought enough of me to continue working on me, to not give up when I wanted to.
We can totally change the world when God is involved, because He's so capable of changing OUR world.

Where are you going with this?

Well I've probably already told you where I'm going. . . I'm going to Ireland, Israel, Egypt, Ukraine. . .

Oh wait, That's not what you meant.

It has only been about two months since I've started this "World Race" thing. . .and already the doubts are setting in. The worst part, I don't even think they're my doubts. It started with a conversation last night with the Youth Pastor at my church. Basically, he asked me where I'm going with this whole "World Race" trip. He has a legitimate claim to ask those things, too, because he's the pastor that oversees the missions funds at my church. I am guessing, he had to ask me those hard questions to ensure my church wouldn't be "wasting God's Money" (not his words, mine) if they decided to support me on the Race. Then it ended with a conversation with one of my roommates, when she said, "To be honest, I think you're going on this trip for yourself. I am certain that God will use it to change your life though."

So why can't I get past the whole, "You're wasting money, you're doing this for yourself part?"

I was perfectly fine when no one questioned me. I had no doubts. And now, when confronted by people I hold in high regard, I am suddenly asking questions of myself.

Such as, "Is this a responsible use of my donor's money? Is this a responsible use of MY money? Am I going on this trip because I just want a 'vacation'? Am I going on this trip because I have NO IDEA WHAT I WANT TO DO WITH MY LIFE and so I'll just put the future off for a little bit while I think about it? Am I really just doing this for ME, and not for God? I've already admitted that I didn't pray about this decision when I filled out the application, so will I be reaping the benefits of what I sow by not listening to God's will? What are the chances that I will look back on month 11 and say, 'What a complete waste of a year'?"

And other questions like that. They are swirling around in my mind like a tempest, slowly growing louder, threatening to drown out all the confidence I had in myself to live up to God's potential. Maybe I should just quit now, while I, (and my potential donors) still have money in their pockets during this economic recession.

After all this happened, I was driving to Boynton to help a friend bake cookies so she can raise money for HER mission trip. I believe in her. I wondered if anyone would do the same thing for me. I wondered if anyone would believe in me.

Then a song came on the radio. It's a song that I've already claimed as my "World Race" theme song. Here are the lyrics:

Lord I want to feel your heart
and see the world through your eyes
I want to be your hands and feet
I want to live a life that leads

ready yourselves
ready yourselves
Let us shine the light of Jesus in the darkest night
ready yourselves
ready yourselves
May the powers of darkness tremble as our praises rise
Until the whole world hears Lord we are calling out
Lifting up Your name for all to hear the sound
Like voices in the wilderness we're crying out
as the day draws near
we'll sing until the whole world hears

Lord let your sleeping giant arise
Catch the demons by surprise
Holy nation sanctified
Let this be our battle cry

we'll sing until the whole world hears
we'll sing until the whole world hears

Want to be your hands and feet
Want to be a life that leads
To see you set the captive free
Until the whole world hears
and I pray that they will see more of you and less of me
Lord I want my life to be the song You sing
Until the whole world hears Lord we are calling out
Lifting your name up for all to hear the sound
Like voices in the wilderness we're crying out
as the day draws near
we'll sing until the whole world hears
we'll sing until the whole world hears
we'll sing until the whole world hears
we'll sing until the whole world hears
we'll sing until the whole world hears
we'll sing until the whole world hears

During that song, tears streamed down my face, yet they were not tears of defeat. They were tears of empowerment. Who cares if people doubt me? Who am I to I doubt myself? There is a world out there that doesn't know You, that doesn't understand how love can somehow overcome pain and poverty. There is a world who is dying to hear some good news. DYING.

Who believes in me? God believes in me. I don't know how, I don't know why. He is where my confidence lies. He is bigger than money or doubt, recessions or fear. He is bigger than me. He's bigger than my roommate. He's bigger than my youth pastor.

And He is with me.

I will fight this thing out, and even if it turns out that this was not His will for me at this time in my life, for much like Jacob in the desert, I will know that I have wrestled men with God, and I will overcome, because I'm not about to let Him go until he blesses me.

Why everyone shouldn’t go to heaven.

This Blog post will make you angry.

I was standing in a stadium, singing at the top of my lungs. Some of my closest friends were with me, and we were all enjoying a concert with overtly "Christian" music. Me and my friends were dancing, shouting, having a glorious time, since we had just worked six hours and were enjoying the fruits of our labor. The free concert wasn't quite as good as last years, (how can you top a Family Force Five, Relient K and Toby Mac Concert? The answer is, you can't.) However, there were spurts of greatness, such as watching the three uber-talented Barlow Girl Sisters tear up their instruments, or feeling my vocal chords rip as I sang Casting Crown's "Until the whole world hears" as loud as I could, regardless of who's ears I may have offended.

Jeanette nudged me and tilted her chin towards my right. "Talk about a lousy date." I looked over, and there sat a young girl, around 23ish, holding her cell phone in a vice grip. Her brow was furrowed and her arms crossed, and she was tapping her foot impatiently. Her body language was that of a person who "Had better things to do."

"She's not having fun, is she?" Jeanette said.

"Hmm." I thought. Consequently, I looked behind me, remembering something I had saw earlier. A man sat about four rows behind us with a scowl so cold it could bore a hole in an iceberg. Bordering on a sneer, he sat there defiantly, looking like someone had handcuffed him to an electric chair.

"Neither is that guy," I mentioned. "He looks miserable... " and that's when it hit me.

"Jeanette. This is why everyone shouldn't go to heaven." I began to explain my theory, or attempted to shout it over the music.

One of the biggest arguments against God's existence is, "How can God really be all loving and still allow people to go to hell?"

One of the rebuttals I always used was, "Why would God, who is all loving, FORCE a person, who wanted NOTHING to do with Him on earth, to HEAVEN, a place where God's will is ETERNALLY done?" The point is, these people, who were probably dragged to this concert by a believing boyfriend or someone else, are miserable. They didn't want to be there. The rest of the people there were worshipping God with their voices, lifting him up in song, enjoying being in the presence of His Holy Spirit and other believers who are considered "family."

If these people were this miserable here, how much more miserable would they be in heaven? Even if heaven is the better alternative?

Now don't get me wrong. I do NOT want anyone to go to hell. I would PREFER if we all were like minded and worshipped God, and I know for a FACT that is God's point of view. 2 Peter 3:9 says: "The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance." But the reality is, there are people who don't want anything to do with God. It's mere fact. So why would God give someone free will, to allow them to do WHATEVER they want to in this life, only to FORCE them to obey and worship Him in the next?

I don't think He would. He loves us perfectly, and therefore being the gentlemen that He is, would rather respect our wishes to want nothing to do with Him. He's not going to force Himself on anyone. And if He did, what kind of a God would He be? Who wants to worship a God who engages in a form of spiritual rape? I wouldn't want to worship that type of Deity.

And I bet you wouldn't either.