There are some things I don't want to write about.

I am, by nature, an optimistic person. One who desires to focus on the positive and believe there is a little good in all of us. But tonight, I came face to face with pure evil. A kind of evil that I didn't know people were actually capable of outside of cable television.

I watched ISIS murder 30 Ethiopian Christians. 

And this just happened this week. There was another ISIS case of persecution/terrorism earlier this year (in February) as well - and I ignored it then. I can't ignore it again. 

I am not linking to the video, ONLY because I do not believe this is something everyone needs to see. But some, some may need to see it. I truly believe I was one of those people (even though, I really really wish I wasn't). 

If I'm being honest, I haven't been very in tune with the world at large. I could blame it on motherhood and having young babies to care for, but I knew within 20 minutes after the news broke yesterday that Tim Tebow was going to be signed to the Philadelphia Eagles. (ESPN was on in the background as I was getting my kids dressed for bed and my ears perked up at "Tebow," what can I say?) I'm also pretty up-to-date on all of my engaged, newly married and pregnant friends thanks to social media. No, I think the real truth is that I have become so consumed with my comfortable American life, that I have become apathetic to the rest of the hurting world. 

Not intentionally. But not unintentionally, either. 

Can I be real about something? American Christianity is shallow. My faith is shallow. 

Every morning I get up, and never worry about dying because I love Jesus. Not even for one second. 

And let me tell you - lots of "worries" cross my mind. "Do I have to change another poop this morning? Can I sleep for five more minutes? Are we out of coffee?" Just to name a few. 

Like I said. Super shallow. 

I don't even know how I ended up here. With such a weak faith, I mean.

I went to Bible college. I married a pastor. I read my Bible. I pray... oh, do I pray. I listen to Christian music. I sing worship music. I spend nearly half of my week at church, for goodness sakes. 

But yet, I barely touch the surface of what it truly means to live for Christ. Not in the context of what my brothers and sisters in Ethiopia (and several other countries) are facing. I imagine they read and cling to these verses a little differently than I.

“Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword? As it is written: ‘For your sake we face death all day long; we are considered as sheep to be slaughtered.’ ”

— Romans 8:35-36

Have you ever stopped to think about why Christianity is so easy in America? 

And before you try to argue that it's not - can I point out that I just heard Miranda Lambert (and a handful of other artists) thank Jesus Christ for an ACM Award on national television?

For an ACM Award. 

They will surely live to face another day. In fact, they may even get a few iTunes sales out of it. 

And good for them. I am not saying this is right or wrong - but just a matter of fact. America, the land of the free. We have it good, don't we? Or do we.

America, with all it's fame and glory, has made a celebrity of Jesus. Christianity is just another genre. Pick a weekend show to attend. Hashtag your allegiance on social media. And don't forget to pick up your copy of our new worship album, when you leave. There is nothing inherently bad about any of that. But the reason Christianity is so easy in America, is because there is nothing really hard about any of it either. 

Saying you love Jesus in America, is like saying you love coffee. 

Some love it, some hate it, some are fanatically addicted to it. But nobody is really offended by it.  

And the heavy burden on my heart... is because they should be. They should be offended by Jesus. Because the gospel, the whole foundation of Christianity, is offensive.

And if you don't believe it's offensive, try telling that to ISIS.

After I stumbled upon "the video" earlier, and saw... the murder... the blood... I quickly turned it off. My mind couldn't process it as real. Not at first. It was just another gory movie. But then, my heart began to break. As I realized these were my brothers... soldiers of the faith... falling to their death because of the same faith I claim. Because of the same name I sing about every weekend. Because of a man who laid down His life for us... they were laying down theirs.

“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me will find it. ”

— Matthew 16:24-25

There are many who thank God for the blessing of being born in America. A country where we have the freedom of speech and religion. To believe strongly and voice those beliefs (like I'm doing right now) on a public platform. And I have been guilty of thanking God for this "blessing" as well. 

But I think we may have it backwards. 

I think the Christians being persecuted in the middle east are the ones being truly blessed. And I think our biggest question here in America should be... why is our faith so shallow? 

“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.”

— Matthew 5:11-12

I stumbled across a journal entry I wrote on January 31, 2013... over two years ago. While reading it, the reality struck me that I could have very well written these same words today. So I am. 

I look around.

I see the worship of things.

I see the worship of image. 

Glam, chic, hipster, vintage... the value that is placed on falling into one of those categories. 

The close up shots of boots, leggings, nail polish.

 "Did you know that was a thing?" My sister asked me while painting her toe nails. 

"Nail polish?" I asked. 

"Yes," she said. "It's the rage." 

(There it is... another one of those words that make me cringe. And since when did nail polish become a thing anyway?) 

Since it became something to worship, that's when.

I look around.

I see the worship of things.

I see the worship of self.

The approval of others, is that all we seek now?

The likes, the comments, the follows, the retweets, the favorites. 

Is that what we live for?

How sad that we have limited our lives to a click of a button. 

We are friends with a square photograph.

But it's all a game. 

This is not real life.

Those friends are not your friends.

Friends are those standing beside you when your mom has been diagnosed with cancer.

Friends are those holding your newborn baby.

Friends are those bringing you a meal when you're too emotionally exhausted to cook.

Friends hug.

Friends laugh.

Friends hold your hand to pray.

I look around.

My heart is disgusted at myself for envying this world and everything in it.

For worshiping things that are ridiculous. 

Like clothes. 

Like people. 

For believing I need to fit into a category.

For believing that there is something better than just being ordinary. 

For my Savior was born to the most ordinary of people. 

And he died in the most humiliating way. 

And sometimes I'm humiliated at how I tramp on his holiness. Who cares that I did my bible study while eating my morning breakfast?! If it was really all about Jesus and praying alone in my closet, then why Instagram a picture?

There is so much I probably shouldn't have said here. And there is probably so much more I could say. But this is what goes on in my unedited and unscripted head. 

And this is the song that gives me peace from all the chaos...

Turn your eyes upon Jesus. Look full in His wonderful face. And the things of earth will grow strangely dim, in the light of His glory and grace. 

I like to read. Ok yes, truthfully, most of the reading I do these days is just whatever viral post is being shared and discussed on Facebook. But light reading is better than no reading at all, right? And some of these topics are really intriguing and teach me a lot about our culture and the spiritual state of our society.

Just a few of the recent topics being hotly discussed on my Facebook newsfeed are, "Why I Chose To No Longer Wear Leggings," "Dear Church, Here's Why People Are Really Leaving You," and "We Can't Be Friends. (If you can't stand my messy house - not in the title, but it's the point)"  All of these articles had valid points and I found myself nodding along in agreement as I read their passionate and well-executed arguments. But then I read... "Ten Things We Should Get Angry About Before Yoga Pants," "An Open Letter to All the People Who Are Writing (and Sharing) Open Letters About What's Wrong With the Church, and "No, You're Not More of a Real Mom Because Your House is Messy." Each offering a perspective completely opposite from the one I originally read and agreed with.

And a funny thing happened within me - something that I don't believe typically happens for many of us anymore - I saw both sides. 

It got me thinking. I wonder how much of our belief system is basically just a collection of information that we happened to read or hear first. 

It wouldn't be that far-fetched of an idea - the Bible even speaks that this is likely to happen.  

The one who states his case first seems right, until the other comes and examines him. -Proverbs‬ ‭18‬:‭17‬ 

I've seen this happen on so many occasions. Especially since entering into the motherhood stage of life and all the "mommy-wars" that come along with it.

Whether it's discussing the benefits of a natural vs medicated labor, formula vs breastfed baby, working vs stay-at-home mom, cry-it-out vs attachment parenting. To vaccinate or not? Disposable or cloth diapers? Time-out or spankings? My stomach is churning at the thought of getting into a discussion with a mommy friend who is passionate one way or the other on any of these topics.

Because you know what? Outside of Jesus being the Son of God, all scripture being infallible and eating cake on my birthday - there are very few things that are non-negotiable for me. Sure there are things that I hold strong opinions on. And I believe in the value of doing research to make a wise decision. But at the end of the day, sometimes the argument is so right down the middle - that it would probably do more good to "flip a coin" than risk losing a relationship because of a strong opinion. 

Flipping a coin can end arguments; it settles disputes between powerful opponents. An offended friend is harder to win back than a fortified city. Arguments separate friends like a gate locked with bars. - ‭Proverbs‬ ‭18‬:‭18-19‬ 

Hear me when I say - I believe in healthy discussion. I encourage healthy discussion. In fact, I've been known to even instigate healthy discussion a time or two. But always making sure to keep the relationship at the forefront of my mind. And remembering that at the end of the day, two people can see from two completely different perspectives and both can be right. Not talking theologically here. Just talking good, ole-fashioned opinions. 

So where do we draw the line between advocating and arguing? I think it should stop before someone gets hurt. 

It's okay to say, "I had an amazing experience with my in-home water birth!" but it probably wouldn't be wise to say, "If you get an epidural you are weak and unnatural!" One advocates, the other is just asking for an argument. 

Of course, you are free to disagree with me. This whole post, after-all, is just observations from my recent experiences with reading contradictory post after post. That's why incorporating Scripture into my writing has become so crucial for me. I want to be more passionate about God's word, than I am about a fad that is here today and gone tomorrow.

What amazes and breaks my heart is that while we are arguing for people to believe the same way we do about leggings (or birth plans or so on and so on), we may inadvertently be wounding others and turning them away from the greatest cause we could ever be advocates for - Jesus Christ.