Zombie and My Neighbor

What does it mean to love my neighbor? How far would I go? Would I put myself in danger? Would I love only people who looked like me, or would I be willing to interact with people who looked a little different than me? A couple of weekends ago my husband and I were in Minneapolis. We were there primarily to visit my new nephew and brother and sister-in-law. While there we were able to attend my former church and hear a really convicting message on Luke 10:25-37, the Parable of the Good Samaritan. Many of us have heard this passage taught on multiple occasions. I know I have. But the main thrust of the sermon was not “go do good things,” primarily. The pastor taught us that since Christ has changed our hearts we should be driven to do good for others in light of the immense good that has already been accomplished for us through Christ. And the most amazing thing about this parable is that the Jewish people thought no Samaritan could do any good, let alone be saved.

I left encouraged. I left convicted. I left excited to live out the Gospel so that others could know the worth of Christ. And then on our way to Chipotle we got stuck in the middle of a zombie night in downtown Minneapolis. Needless to say, we were a little freaked out. We quickly drove through the zombies and made our way back to my brother’s house. But as we talked about it later we were struck with the tremendous spiritual realities surrounding us in zombie-land.

There I was confronted with a direct, practical, and very real way to love my neighbor and all I could feel was fear. Should it really frighten me as much as it did?

Yes and no. But it shouldn’t really surprise me.

In one sense it was mass chaos, and chaos always seems a little frightening—especially when blood-covered people are coming up to cars. But in reality these zombie-dressed neighbors are only wearing on their sleeves what is already in their hearts. We all are. Zombies are dead people. And apart from Christ, all people are zombies at heart. The fact is most of the time they cover up the fact that they are dead-men-walking with clothes and an act that makes them look just like you and me.

Loving my neighbor doesn’t mean I have go out looking for a zombie fest in order to practically live out Luke 10. But it does mean having the discernment to see the zombie talking to me everyday at work, or at the store, or in my family, and not running from them in fear. But rather pointing them to the only One who can truly bring them to life again.

Abortion and Women's Rights

I know it has been pretty quiet around here lately. I am still trying to figure out how to be a new wife, church member, employee, and friend; and then fit in other things (like blogging). I have a TON of ideas in my head, but they haven't made it to paper yet. I promise they will. One idea did make it to paper (or I guess I should say, the idea made it to the computer). I wrote a post for CBMW this week on abortion and women's rights. It is called Life-Giving is a Woman's Issue.

Every day on my way home from work I drive past the local abortion clinic. I used to do it because it was the quickest way home. Now I am reminded to pray everyday at 5:15 when I am driving by it. The rights of the unborn are something that we should all be concerned with. As women we are called to be life-givers, not life-takers. My prayer for the women who enter the clinic, and everyone else inside, is that God would open their eyes to the horrors of abortion and that their would no longer be a need for the abortion clinic. Until then, I will keep driving by and praying.

You can read my post here.