Why I Hate the Label "Christian"

For as long as I can remember, I've always loved trying to figure people out.  I used to pick a box that I thought they would fit best in and slap them with labels I thought would suit them.  I love being able to define people, things, places, so that they make sense to me.

It's easy, isn't it? If we force people into the boxes we believe they'll fit in, then we feel more comfortable with ourselves.

Problem is, as I got older I learned how complicated people are. One person can't be shoved into a single box or labeled one specific thing.  I know I can't.

I became aware of the fact that no matter how long or well you think you know someone, there will still be things about that person that you will never know.  And until you know every single tiny fact and thought and feeling of a person, you simply can't define him or her.

It frustrates me to no end because I just hate not being able to figure people out.  I want them to make sense, to follow certain patterns, to act only like the category I place them in.

All of this is quite ironic, because all my life I've fought against the labels and boxes people try to fit me into.  All the while thinking, "They don't really know me."

Due to recent events in my life, I have come to hate all labels concerning "Christian."  I hate the label "Presbyterian", "Methodist", "Catholic", "Baptist", and the list could go on.

If you want to call me a Christian, that's fine.  You're not wrong.

But I do not consider myself a Christian.
*Now's the part where you do your best jaw-dropping shocked face.*

Now before you sound the alarm and start thinking everything I've ever written before is a lie, let me explain.

I am a Christian.  But because of this crazy, upside-down, self-revolving, judgmental world, the name "Christian" has become a word that people either roll their eyes at or claim that they are one just because they go to church on Christmas and Easter.

If you were to ask me, "Are you a Christian?"
My answer would, of course, be yes.
But that's not all I would say.
Because I'm not a Christian by choice, a Christian biologically, a Christian because of my generation, a Christian because I' want to be "religious."

I'm a believer in a Savior and God greater and more wonderful than anything I've ever known.
I'm a saved-by-grace-alone.
I'm a I-do-not-deserve-salvation-but-He-granted-it.
I'm a hope-in-the-things-not-seen.
I'm a Jesus-is-the-only-way.
I'm a I-am-broken-but-He-is-sufficient.
I'm a His-love-is-the-perfect-sacrifice-for-my-sins.

I do not like to be called a Christian.  Anyone can say they are one.

But we have to be careful about which we are living - are we living the label?  Or are we living the truth?

...Love, Anna...

I'm Human, How About You?

"I am so done being nice to people," 

was my mantra this week.

Which is ironic, because last week I wrote all about love and how we should love people and all of that wonderful truth. 

But here's a shocker for you: I'm actually human.

Crazy, right? 

When I first started this blog, I promised to always be painfully honest, even if it meant criticism or even judgment.  

I'm going to be painfully honest with you this week, so brace for impact, because I just might crash-land into some hard truths.

I've always had the external attitude of "I don't care what people think of me" when, in fact, I do care.  I care deeply.

The words you read here may be brave or wise or beautiful but my life does not always reflect what I say here.

Confession?

I'm insecure.  

I'm terrified what people must think of me when they read my blog, or the expectations they may have for me that I'll never meet.  

Another confession?

I'm not a brave person.  At all.

One more?

I say things I shouldn't, gossip about people, disrespect adults, swear unnecessarily,  have little patience...and listen could go on and on.

Why am I telling you all of this?

Point is, folks, I am not perfect.  I am not someone to be admired or modeled after or depended upon.

I pour my heart out here, on this blog, because it's easy for me to write.  It's easy for me to hide behind words.  

But I am still human.  

And I never want anyone to think that what I write here is fake or phony or unrealistic.  Or that life is all sunshine and rainbows, because, trust me, it certainly is not.

Despite last week's call to "love people", I did not heed my own advice.  My week was more like "avoid people at all costs, they'll only let you down." 

It was just one of those "I'm so done being nice to people" weeks. And that's okay.  

Sorry for the rambling.

Concluding this mess of a post in 3...2...1...

...Love, Anna...

Love People

You know what I've been thinking a lot about lately?
Love.

And how you really have to be brave to
love.

Before you think I'm getting all romantic on you, let me clarify that I am not talking about romantic love, although that is definitely included.

I'm talking about all love.

You have to be brave to love.
You have to be bold to love.
You have to be really, really
strong
to love.

Hate is a cowardly feeling.  It's so much easier to hate someone than it is to love someone.

If you hate someone, you allow yourself to become
blind
and numb
and deaf
to their humanity.

That's easy for us.

It's so much harder to love because when you love people it means you have to
forgive
and apologize
and accept
their humanity.

We've all heard probably the most well-known verse of the bible, John 3:16, "For God SO LOVED the world..." but we probably never really think about the depth of those words, do we?

Think about them now.  Say them in your head.  Say them out loud.

God SO LOVED the world.
SO LOVED the world.
(Am I starting to sound like a broken record yet?)
He so LOVED the world - this world, your world, our world.

God surpassed all HATE with one act of LOVE.  He didn't come into this world wielding swords and leading armies.

He came in love, in the form of a child.
He made no show of His power.  He healed the blind, the dead, the lame, the lepers, freely and with no trace of pomp.

Ultimately,
Jesus came because He loved His people,
Jesus lived in love for His people,
and Jesus died in love for His people,
so that He could love them
Eternally.

If there's one thing I want you to remember from all of this, it's just two simple words: love people.

LOVE is what saved you when Jesus died.
LOVE is what will outlast brokenness.
LOVE is a reflection of Him.
LOVE is more important than winning arguments, getting the best grades, or the best spot on the varsity team, or the biggest role in the school play, or the latest promotion at work.
LOVE is the only thing we can offer to the God who gave us all.
LOVE is what people are going to remember about you.

...Love, Anna...

Oh, hello...World?

Hi.

Confession.

I am shy.

I'm good at hiding it, but I am.  Shy.

Words clearly do not scare me.  But knowing who's reading them, frankly, does.

Writing this now feels like shouting into a big abyss of goodness-knows-who.

I was beside myself with excitement last week because my page views were off the charts.  I mean, really - who are you out there?  Because there's a lot of you.

Eesh.  That's a scary thought.

So as I get up on my writer's platform today, I do so with more fear in my heart than usual.  Because now that I know I'm addressing a larger population than I am used to, it makes me want to
shrink
back
into
my
writer's shell.

But as you can see, I AM NOT IN MY SHELL!
So for the first time I'd like to give a metaphorical
SHOUT
into the abyss of the
UNKNOWN readers
and say
HELLO...
world?

Here I am.
Been here for precisely one year and four months.
And I am not going anywhere.

Also,
thank you.

It scares me more than you know to know that my words have started to crawl into the nooks and crannies of my world.

But every time I sit down to write, I hope you know I do it all for the honor and glory of our Savior.  So may every word spoken or written or whispered on my tongue or on the tongues of any who read this be pleasing to Him.

...Love, Anna...

P.S. While I've got you here, why don't you stick around for a while?  Check this blog out!

It's Okay (To Not Be Okay)

Hey there.

Hey you.

The girl sitting next to me whose name I don't know.  The boy across the lunch room who sits alone.

You.

My best friend, my worst enemy, my favorite teacher, my brother, my cousin, my fellow human.

Listen.

It's okay.
It's okay to not be okay.

Guess what?
None of us are.

Listen.

Stop.
Stop trying to fill your life with things and people that will never fill your heart.
Stop trying to please everyone.
Stop pretending like everything's okay.

I, Anna Potter, fallen, broken, sinful, crazy, weird, wonderful human being, declare that I am not okay.

Did you hear me or should I say it again?
I AM NOT OKAY.

And that's okay.

Why?

Because I have a God who IS okay.  Quite okay.  Infinitely and eternally MORE than okay.

And He is here, working in my not-okay-ness, creating a better-okay, and stronger-okay, a wiser-okay for me.

Even if you've heard this a million times, please would you just stop for a second and believe it this time?

You are not okay.
You are in need.
You are valuable.
You are precious.
You deserve to be full.
You deserve to be loved.

And if you don't believe my words, believe these:

"I loved you at your darkest."

Romans 5:8

"When I said, 'My foot is slipping', Your love, oh Lord, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, Your consolation brought joy to my soul."

Psalm 38:16

"So do not fear, for I am with you,

Do not be dismayed,

For I am your God.

I will strengthen you and help you;

I will uphold you with my righteous hand."

Isaiah 41:10

You.

All of you.

It's okay.

...Love, Anna...

Why We Hate Silence

Last night I received the somewhat harsh and all-too rare gift of pure, unadulterated
silence.

I was babysitting and I hadn't thought to bring a book to read for after I put the kids to bed.  So I sat down on the couch and was faced with quiet like I hadn't experienced in a very, very long time.

It wasn't the library kind of quiet or even the home alone kind of quiet.

This was still, deafening, ringing, silence.

It's a pretty severe punishment to be alone in such quiet.  Alone with only yourself and your thoughts.

I could have easily found something to do to occupy my time, but I didn't.  I just sat in the face of silence for almost an entire hour.

Why do we hate silence?

It's because when we're not busy filling up our lives with noise and distractions, we have to actually think about our lives, about ourselves.  And that makes us uncomfortable, squeamish, and sad.

We fill our minds with things to think about, our ears with music and conversation, and our hands never idle, always doing something.

But what would happen if we stopped and faced our silence?

What's so scary?

I think the answer to that more often than not is simply, ourselves.

Silence is the most severe and unwanted mirror of who we are when we're not in our usual business.

And if we sit too long in quiet, we start feeling like we need to be doing something else.  We start fidgeting.  We start filling up that silence with all of our noise.

But I propose that we spend a few minutes a day in silence.  That we face its reflection.

Because the more we learn to be quiet, the more we love ourselves in the busy and in the silence, the more we stop to think, maybe even be a little afraid, the more we'll know to listen.  To appreciate. To hope for.  To see beauty.  To be full.

It's okay to be quiet for a while.
It's okay to be afraid of it.

But if God commands us to "be still",
then,
let's be still.

...Love, Anna...

Take a Breath

I drafted at least four different posts for this week, but I haven't finished any of them and didn't really feel like any were the "right" ones to post.

Oh well, I usually do better if I'm "winging it" anyway.

I guess I just have this fear that eventually I'll just run out of good things to say.  Maybe I will.  But not right now.

I think today I'm just going to stop by and say that I am truly feeling full.  It's not because my life is perfect or because I'm happy all the time.

I just am, full.

Full of God's ability to prove me wrong.  Every time I think I'm right.

Full of God's ability to work through pain.  Every time I want to run away from Him.

Full of God's love.  Not just for me.  Not just in my life.  In every person I've ever come in contact with.

Full of God's peace.  Peace that holds me steady in the swarming chaos of my mind, my heart, and my world.

Full of God's hope.  In the snow, in the cold, in the sun, in the gray clouds.

Full of God's people.  In me and around me.  People who love me when I least deserve it, people who love me despite all of my shenanigans.  Family and friends who never cease to give me pieces of their hearts.  People who have made me who I am.

Full of God's music.  Melodies of words and sounds and beauty, everywhere and everyday of my life.  Proving to me constantly that You are here with me.

Maybe this is all just a jumbled mess of sentimentality to you.  But something in me just needed to put it all "out there" today.

To take a moment, to breathe, to be still.
To be full.

So thank you, LORD.
For Your full and fulfilling love and for filling my heart and my life with it.

...Love, Anna...