Just a Few Hours To Go...

Thirty year-old Lauren Rousseau was a permanent substitute teacher at Sandy Hook Elementary.  On December 14, 2012 she went to work like any other day.  Anyone who has ever worked with young children knows that the process of corralling youngsters is very similar to the job of herding cats.  This was Lauren's job, and she was hard at it that day.

Thirty-eight year-old Anthony Tempesta was a husband and father who worked as a bond broker for Cantor Fitzgerald in New York.  On September 11, 2001, he was working on the 105th floor of One World Trade Center.  It was his daughter's seventh birthday.  His wife had called him because their front door had been open when she awoke that morning.  He'd stayed on the phone with her while she'd checked the house for intruders.

Army Pfc. Michael Pearson was just twenty-two years old.  He had left a local furniture business job to join the military and have the opportunity to serve his country.  He was known for having a great sense of humor and loved "horsing around with his nieces and nephews."  He was at Fort Hood Army Base in Texas on November 5, 2009.

Lori Ann Lewis-Rivera was a wife and mother who was simply going about her daily activities, vacuuming out her minivan at a Shell station in Kensington, MD on October 3, 2002.  Life doesn't get more normal than that, right?  The mundane tasks of an ordinary day.  However, like those listed above her and like so many more, her time on earth was about to come to an end.

On Monday, two explosions rocked the finish-line area of the Boston Marathon.  Three died and scores were injured. Later, MITPD officer Sean Collier was murdered.  In West, TX, a fertilizer plant exploded killing fourteen and injuring nearly two hundred others.  An 8-month-old girl was killed and her mother badly injured when a driver hit a bus stop in a St. Louis suburb.

The people I've listed here were just like you and me.  They had families, lives, jobs and daily duties.  They had bills, stresses, successes and failures. They were imperfect yet beautiful creatures who were trying to do the best they could in the world.

If you're like me at all, your heart's desire is to give your children a better life than your own.  You work hard, whether in an office, a factory, or in your home.  You end your days tired from your daily activities and you get up in the morning to repeat the cycle.  You have bills that you sometimes have to struggle to pay.  You have stresses from employers, neighbors or family members that cause you to sometimes lose sleep.

Sound familiar?  It's a story as old as time.  We all have such circumstances and stresses.  We have people we love and who love us.  We have certain obligations that we spend a large amount of time trying to meet.  We have joys and we have struggles.  It's just part of being human.

The thing that struck me today, in the wake of this week's violence and mayhem was the suddenness of the events that took their lives.  These people--and the countless just like them--were simply going about their business.  Do you think they awoke on their fateful morning thinking that they had just a few hours to go?

Probably not.  And neither did I this morning when I left for work.  Neither did you when you started your day today.  And yet, today could be that day.  It can come by human hand, by illness, or by happenstance.  Life can be extinguished in an instant. James 4:14 says:  "Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes."

It sounds pretty ominous, doesn't it?  Yet, in another verse, scripture says: "So do not worry about tomorrow; for tomorrow will care for itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own."

So, what's my point?  The Bible tells us how fleeting life is, yet we're not supposed to worry about it.  Interesting, and so counter-intuitive, right?  It's a piece of cake, actually.  

Yes, life is fleeting.  Yes, life can be snuffed out or radically changed in an unexpected instant.  And no, we are not to worry about it.  And... yes, it is possible!  You see, when you've given your life to Christ, committed your very existence and all your plans and ambitions to Him, the "peace of God, which passes all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7)  When the Spirit of God thrives within you, there is no room for fear.  God is love and "perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." (1 John 4:18)

When you've given yourself to Christ, you recognize His sovereignty and His power.  He is then in charge of your well-being.  If He is sovereign in our lives, then we must choose to believe that He has the right to decide what comes our way.  That way we can live in that peace that passes understanding--that peace that, no matter what's going on around us, places its trust in our sovereign God.  That's true peace.  That's peace that doesn't rely on my strengths or weaknesses, but places trust in God, Who has no weaknesses!  

You can have this peace.  All you have to do is stop relying on yourself or others for your assurance.  Turn to God, Who is the Author and Finisher of our faith.

If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to contact me.  My email address is 2010.michaelland@gmail.com.  

Everything Changes...

I'm sitting on my couch with my five-year-old stepson.  He's watching A Dolphin's Tale on DVD, wearing his Avengers pajamas and holding his lavender bunny.  I'm watching my wife.  She's lying on the loveseat deeply engrossed in whatever is on her cellphone's screen... probably Pinterest or something.  (Insert imaginary photo here.  You know, the photo that I just secretly took but am terrified to post without her permission.) Yep, she just texted me a photo she found on Pinterest.

It's moments like this that burn themselves into my mind with the intensity of white-hot steel, leaving indelible memories like the marks my old wood-burner left on pieces of pine during my youth.  These are memories cemented to my soul by the strongest adhesive ever--emotion.

My beautiful wife and I are expecting a baby.  She was actually due five days ago.  

This has been a rough pregnancy, with multiple trips to the emergency room and not a small amount of stress.    For the past week my wife hasn't been able to move the left side of her face due to the sudden onset of Bell's Palsy, adding substantially to Krystal's discomfort and stress.

Tomorrow everything changes.  Tomorrow the doctor will induce Krystal.  We're not sure how we feel about the induction, but considering some of the difficulties Krystal has been facing, the doctor thinks it's a good idea.

So, tomorrow we will finally meet our little Palin Nichole face to face.  Tomorrow will be her birthday, and my heart swells with the possibilities.  We've talked to her, sung to her, rubbed her back (or whatever was protruding from Krystal's abdomen) and prayed for her.  We're thrilled that she'll be in our arms by this time tomorrow.

I think about her future.  I think of how she'll look and the smell of her hair.  I think about how she'll drool as she grows and begins to teethe.  I think of her school years and boys and high school dances.  I think about the gift I will give her on her wedding day and the heart-rending pain in my chest as I walk her down the aisle to give her to her husband.

I think about our little family unit, and how it will never quite be the same.  I think about that beautiful lady on the loveseat and this great little boy beside me.  I think about my sons in Nevada, Adam and Isaac and the bridges that are being rebuilt there.

Everything changes.  Tomorrow marks not only Palin's first breath of fresh air, her first glimpse of light, or the first time we get to touch her skin.  It marks a paradigm shift in our family structure.  Everything we've come to see as "the norm" changes tomorrow.  

And I welcome it.  

I welcome her.

Palin Nichole Land

The Cult of Juvenility in America

We recently endured a very long and arduous political campaign season.  Pundits pontificated, politicians polled and pandered, the media manipulated and voters vacillated.  The volume of news, non-news and outright falsehoods that saturated the airwaves and the internet was deafening.  People were passionate about their beliefs and more than willing to share them.  I know.  I was one of those people.

Being an observer of human nature, I was fascinated by the acidity with which many addressed one another. Insults flew, names were called, characters were assaulted, and intelligence was questioned.  I know.  I was one of those people as well.

I found myself easily angered by the obstinance of anyone whose views varied from mine.  Don't get me wrong, my views have not changed or softened in the slightest when it comes to the liberal vs. conservative debate.  My views are based on history, logic, evidence.  However, I also recognize that others have views about which they are just as passionate and to which they are just as committed.

Having listened to a lot of pundits and pontificators over the past few years, people on both sides of the political bird, I have heard one disturbing thing that was common among them.  Name-calling and immaturity.  

We on the right were outraged by Joe Biden's derisive laughter during the Vice Presidential Debate.  We were angered by Barack Obama's sarcastic vitriol during the Presidential Debates.  We become inflamed every time Harry Reid or Nancy Pelosi open their mouths.  Rightfully so.  However, do we have the moral high ground here?

"Obozo"

"Obummer"

"Idiot in Chief"

"BoBo the Clown"

"His O'liness"

"Osama Obama"

"Ovomit"

These are all things that I've heard conservatives say to refer to President Obama.  Many of these things were spoken by conservative talk show hosts, others posted on blogs and in articles.

I'm guilty, too.  I've been so frustrated and angry about the President's policies that I've condescended to name calling.  However, I was wrong to do so.  

What right do we have to be upset when someone whose opinions differ from ours insults someone we admire when we're spewing the same kind of ignorant bile in our conversations?

This is not how we win the next election.  This is not how we sway the opinions of others and convince them of the value of conservative ideals.  Shame on us for playing to the lowest common denominator and resorting to juvenile name-calling like fifth graders on a playground!  We have logic on our side.  We have history on our side.  How can we expect to win the all-important debates on economics, national security and public policy when we're acting this way?  This is what they do!  We don't have to talk this way to win.

Here's what we need to do.  We need to demonstrate logically and calmly how conservative philosophies, when put into action, benefit the listener.  We demonstrate, passionately but respectfully, how the logic of the left falls apart.  We draw the timeline, and show how it diverges from a workable or acceptable solution.

In short, we win by being different than our opponents, not mimicking them.  

We've become a nation of juveniles.  We've "dumbed down" our maturity level to the point that our forefathers would be mortified.  I propose that we live up to the intellectual and mature legacy they've left for us.  Let us elevate our speech, even if they will not.  Then, the contrast between us will be regained.

Daily Whim 11-04-2012

This is an unusual time in my life.  I'm sitting in my living room with The Pursuit of Happyness playing on the DVD player.  To my left, my mother is sitting in the brown faux-leather chair.  To my right, my wife sits on the love-seat eating a leftover piece of cake from yesterday's baby shower.  Against the wall is a table that holds a pile of gifts brought to the shower by friends and family.  Above our fireplace is a banner that says "Baby Shower" in bright colors and cute shapes.

Krystal's good friend, Mallory, is on her way over to hang out with Krystal for a bit. Tiegen is sitting on the couch next to me, eating a cookie and dropping crumbs on my shoulder.

In the midst of it all, I feel the need to write.

It's an interesting time.  Krystal's doctor has said that Krystal is dilating and her body is prepared to go into labor.  She could, literally, go into labor at any time.

A month ago, the Davis Cellular store I managed was acquired by a larger company called Z Wireless.  It came as a bit of a shock at first, but as time has gone by, I've come to realize that there are many more opportunities for me with Z Wireless.  It's growing rapidly, and opportunities for advancement come far more often.  As much as I loved working for Davis Cellular, I believe God has His hand in this.

So, here I sit:  pregnant wife on one side expecting to go into labor any moment, adjusting to a new work culture, wondering who is going to cover my store when I have to head to the hospital, preparing to vote in one of the most crucial elections in recent history, and desperately... desperately needing a day of solitude.

It isn't that I don't want to be around my family.  Not in the slightest.  It's that I simply need everything to pause for just one day while my brain tries to catch up.  There's a lot of jumbled thoughts bouncing around inside my skull -- thoughts about finances, about patriotism, about family dynamics -- thoughts about health, about the age of our car, about how five-year-old Tiegen is going to handle having a baby invading his life -- about ministry, about dreams, about what the next step is in the journey God has called me into -- about relatives, about lawn mowing, about coffee and how it's helped me survive this last freakishly fast month.  My mind is spinning.

A few months ago, I went to my oldest son's high school graduation.  He's eighteen and ready to launch his Air Force career.  My second son is fourteen and an amazing guy whose options in life are limitless.  I long so deeply to be close to them.  Tiegen, Krystal's five-year-old son, is an outstanding young man whose bright, cheerful personality and impressive intelligence make him a joy to be around.

But it's weird.  I have an eighteen-year-old son and am about to have a newborn daughter.  Wrap your mind around that for a moment.

Yesterday our house was loaded with people who came for the baby shower.  It was energetic and... well... crowded.  Everyone was very nice and gracious.  Everyone was happy and supportive, and there were no problems.  But it was a social environment for which I was not prepared.

This is one of those posts in which I become exceptionally transparent.  You see, I've been in front of people all my life.  I've preached, taught, sung, and acted.  I have no trepidation, whatsoever, about being in front of hundreds or even thousands of people.  I've sung on television.  The largest live audience in front of whom I've sung was around fourteen thousand.  No problem.

But, put me in a room with a bunch of people with whom I have to personally interact, and I break out in a cold sweat.  It's not fear.  It's dread.  There's a difference.  I don't like it.  I do almost anything I can to avoid it.

It really has very little to do with the people in the group.  It's something inside me.

I'm a man of solitude.  I have to have it.  I always have.

When I lived in Alaska and I felt this way, I had a wonderful outlet.  I would take a day off and drive to Eklutna Lake (pictured below).  I would rent a kayak and spend the day paddling around the serene waters and feeling the breeze.  On one side I'd see a moose meandering among the trees and on the other a fox, or sometimes a bear.  An eagle would screech overhead and fish would periodically splash in the water.  I'd paddle for a few hours and pull in to rest along the shore (in the event that there weren't any random wild creatures nearby).

When I was there, I was at peace.  I could go all day and never see another person.  There were no power boats.  There were no electronic devices.  There was no need for interaction.  I could think, sing, pray, hope, and dream.

Since I moved to Missouri at the end of 2005, I have not experienced that.  Not once.  I've tried.  When I was working as the minister of music at Morrisville Assembly, I took a week and went to Table Rock Lake, outside of Branson.  I borrowed a canoe because they don't know what a real kayak is around here.  (A real kayak, not one of those stubby little plastic ones that bob around the rivers and creeks and creates so much drag in the water that you have to work exceptionally hard just to get it to move.  I'm talking about the long, sleek, smooth kayaks that glide nearly effortlessly and gracefully, leaving a long, narrow V-shaped ripple on the quiet water's surface.)  I found a campsite right at the edge of the water.  I got in late in the evening and set up the tent.  Then I cooked some food over the fire and bedded down for the night.

In the morning, I awoke to what sounded like the pit area at a NASCAR race.  When I walked to the water's edge, I saw why.  I was camped across a small lagoon from a major boat dock.  People were working on their boats, revving their engines, using power tools, yelling over the noise of the engines, and otherwise reveling in the freedom to desecrate the silence and create oil slicks.

I shrugged my shoulders and dragged the canoe into the water.  I boarded and began to paddle.  I was on the water about ten minutes and I'd only been sworn at by two power boat drivers as they blew past me.  Both had felt the necessity of circling around, creating a huge swell that nearly capsized me, and stopping to mock my motorless transportation.  Then the clouds rolled in and a Southwest Missouri thunderstorm began.

I paddled back to the shore, turned the canoe upside down and crawled into the tent where I spent the next four days stubbornly refusing to go home despite the weather and the incessant dripping of the water into the inside of the tent.

I've been camping a couple of times since then, but never in solitude.

In solitude is self-analysis.  In solitude is growth.  In solitude is learning.  In solitude is peace.  In solitude is healing.

It's not about being away from the people I love.  It's about being alone with God.  In solitude I can speak out loud to Him.  In solitude I can be transparent.  In solitude I can let my guard down.  In solitude I can be free.

Never Forget, Never Surrender...

September 11, 2001.  I was living in Anchorage, Alaska at the time.  A couple of hours after I started work that morning, I received a phone call from my boss who asked if I'd heard what was going on.  I had no idea what she was talking about.  She said that planes had just crashed into the World Trade Center in New York City.  I immediately began to try to tune in a news broadcast on the stereo system we used in our little restaurant.  The only thing I could find that was discussing the event was NPR, so I began to listen as the horrible morning unfolded.

Within a very short period of time, customers began to come into the restaurant, ashen-faced and in shock that our nation had been attacked in such a brutal and senseless way.  Even though we were thousands of miles from Ground Zero, our sense of security had been shattered.

I arrived at home around four in the afternoon and, for the first time, saw television footage of the attacks and the aftermath.  I wept openly at the idea of the countless people who had obviously lost their lives and the countless more who had lost loved ones.  I watched the shock on the faces of the dust-covered people as they staggered through the streets.  There was no differentiation of ethnicity, no rich, no poor, just...grey.  Everyone was covered in grey.  We were made one in our grief, in our loss, in our shock.  Unified.

As should be expected, it wouldn't take long for people to politicize the event.  Fingers began pointing, talking heads began shouting at one another.  However, in the brief quiet of the aftermath, we were one.

We were a nation with the wind knocked out of us.  From 3,370 miles away, Alaskans felt unity with our countrymen in New York City.

A bold attack in the most visible of places:  New York City, the Pentagon, and a failed attempt at an attack on Washington, DC, had sucked the oxygen from the atmosphere, leaving us all gasping for breath.  Immediately, people all over the country started assessing the strategic importance of potential targets in their neighborhoods.  Would terrorists strike the Pipeline in Alaska?  How about the bridges in the San Francisco area?  No one knew, and we all held our collective breath for the next blow.

Over time, the United States has shifted her view from the tragedy of September 11.  We've lost our national anger.  We debate about the trivial and ignore the deadly.

It's been eleven years.  Our national memory--peppered with entertainment, vice, and silly politics--has become foggy.  We shrug our shoulders.  We forget the names of those who were lost and those who lost fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters.

My family and I will not forget.  We will continue to pray for those families.  We will continue to pray for and support our military.  We will continue to thank fire fighters, police officers, soldiers, sailors, marines, airmen and guardsmen for their service to the citizenry.  We will continue to be grateful that we live in the greatest nation on earth.  We will continue to thank God for our freedom, for it is He Who provides it.  We will continue to pray for our national leaders, whether we agree with them or not.

This country is worth fighting for.  It's worth dying for.  It's worth losing friends for.  Many get annoyed with the political nature of many of my posts.  I've given that a lot of thought.  While I do not wish that anyone would be displeased with me, this nation is worth every possible effort to save.  I cannot stand by silently and watch people tear her down.  I will not.  It was worth my father fighting for in Vietnam, and it's still worth fighting for.

So, if you're bored with the political nature of my posts, I do not apologize.  Perhaps you could take the time to research and study the facts.  Then, perhaps, you'll find within you the passion to spread the word to others who might be as uninformed as you once were.

Don't let the victims of September 11 slip into history unnoticed.  Keep the subject alive.  Look at the photos.  Watch the videos.  Educate yourself and your children on the facts.  This nation is worth that effort. Too many people have shed their blood for us to simply sit back and remain intellectually fat and lazy.  Wake up, America!

It's been a year now...

On a very hot August 20, 2011, I married an amazingly beautiful woman.  Krystal walked down a little gravel path to meet me in a lovely park in Springfield, Missouri.  The smile on her face was radiant and the lump in my throat was the size of a football.

Krystal and I had dated for four years prior to getting married.  We'd been through some wonderful times and some very difficult ones.  Most importantly, though, we had taken the time to get to know one another as dearest friends.  Krystal and I have personalities that compliment one another flawlessly.

It's hard for me to put into words the feeling I experienced as she appeared that day.  Her beautiful white dress, her amazing eyes, her flawless complexion... these things were obvious to everyone.  However, something deeper was striking me.  This wonderful young woman who has such a wonderful mind and heart had chosen to spend the rest of her life with me.  Me!  There are no words for that realization.  It was overwhelming.

We were gathered with a very small group of people who are very dear to us:  Pastor Tom Matrone of Central Assembly of God; Mike and Debbie Mills, some very dear friends; Marissa Mills; my mother and her fiance, Lowell Hicks; Krystal's son, Tiegen; and our photographer, Heather Fison.  It was a very simple and intimate wedding.  Just the way it was meant to be.

 Right there in the blazing August heat, we shared our vows with one another.  We laughed and celebrated our love for each other.  The setting was perfect.  Through all the planning and stress of outside pressures, we had made it to our big day.  Through the stormy turmoil of planning a large wedding, scrapping those plans and choosing to just elope, to changing the plans again to include these dear ones, we'd learned a lot about ourselves, each other, and our loved ones.  We came to the agreement that our wedding was a day for us.

Things could have gone much more smoothly in the lead-up to the big day, but in the end, we were consumed with happiness.  I'd married the woman of my dreams.  Of all the men she could have chosen, this amazingly pure, loving, intelligent, and beautiful woman had chosen me.  How could I not glow with happiness?

I remember how before anyone knew that we'd started dating, people kept asking me why there seemed to be a sudden spring in my step.  I'd chuckle and shrug my shoulders.  Who knew someone could bring such happiness to my life?

And now we face a future together.  We don't know what the future holds, but we know we'll be holding each other.  Every day I thank God for bringing Krystal into my life.  Every day I marvel at how much of a blessing she is to me.  Every day I am amazed that she chose me.

I love you, Krystal.  I always will.  The grace and beauty that everyone can see on the outside are just a hint of the amazing woman I've come to know beneath the surface.

I've always heard that every little girl grows up to be a woman, but it takes effort, class, and strength to be a lady.  Well, folks, I married a true lady.

Happy first anniversary, love.

RACIST! HOMOPHOBE! INTOLERANT! JUDGMENTAL!

We live in a society that has lost its grip on reality.  No longer are discussions based on facts, but on hyperbole.  People have given up their ability to debate philosophies and logic in favor of quick insults and sarcasm.

We live in a society where it's considered a more serious crime to murder someone who is of a different ethnic background, faith, or sexual preference than it would be to murder someone randomly.  We call it a "hate crime."

Now, I've faced hate in my life.  I've been on both ends of the hate spectrum.  I can sincerely say that I have never hated someone because of their ethnicity, economic status, or sexual preference.  When I've hated, it was in response to specific acts perpetrated against me or those for whom I hold great affection.  Thankfully, though, I've experienced the grace and mercy of God in my life and I no longer hate.

In today's society, though, mere disagreement is considered equivalent to hate.  Let's use a recent example from the realm of current events:

“I think we are inviting God’s judgment on our nation when we shake our fist at Him and say ‘we know better than you as to what constitutes a marriage’ and I pray God’s mercy on our generation that has such a prideful, arrogant attitude to think that we have the audacity to define what marriage is about.” – Dan Cathy, CEO of Chick-Fil-A

Dan Cathy, CEO of Chick-Fil-A voiced his personal religious belief.  It is a belief that coincides with traditional Christian beliefs.  In his quote, does he ever say that he hates homosexuals?  Does he ever say that they are less valuable as human beings?  Does he ever say he desires their destruction?

No.

He said that his business was founded on biblical principles, and that the traditional family dynamic is a part of that foundation.  He clearly shows his traditional Christian leanings in his statements.  But he never speaks hate.  He speaks his religious convictions, but he never speaks with hatred of someone who disagrees with him.

Yet, he's been called a bigot, a fascist (obviously by people who don't know the meaning of the word), a hate-monger, and many other things not suitable for a Christian to repeat.  Simply because he disagrees.

He disagrees with those who are constantly reminding us to be tolerant of opposing viewpoints.

And they've tried to destroy him. (Actually, it's very possible that the stress of this very public kerfuffle led directly to the sudden heart attack of Chick-Fil-A's Vice President of Public Relations, Don Perry.) 

Tolerant of them, isn't it?

I think back with a chuckle to the time I posted an image of Ronald Reagan online.  I was quickly referred to as a racist, even though I had made no comments, whatsoever, about anyone's ethnicity.  I had simply expressed my admiration for Ronald Reagan.  

If I quote a scripture that seems to convict someone of activities in which they choose to participate, I'm called judgmental.  

I find it fascinating that, in the absence of facts or a strong logical argument, many people resort to name-calling and insults.  We've become conditioned to fear certain labels more than anything else.  We fear being labeled a racist, a homophobe, intolerant, or judgmental.  It's really an interesting phenomenon.  

I googled "racism."  Now, if you use Wikipedia as your source for anything of substance, you need your head examined.  However, I found their opening paragraph interesting:

Racism is generally defined as actions, practices, or beliefs that reflect the racial worldview: the ideology that humans are divided into separate and exclusive biological entities called "races". This ideology entails the belief that members of a race share a set of characteristic traits, abilities, or qualities, that traits of personality, intellect, morality, and other cultural behavioral characteristics are inherited, and that this inheritance means that races can be ranked as innately superior or inferior to others.

 Dictionary.com similarly defines racism as:

1.  a belief or doctrine that inherent differences among the various human races  determine cultural or individual achievement, usually involving the idea that one's own race is superior and has the right to rule others.

2.  a policy, system of government, etc., based upon or fostering such a doctrine; discrimination.

3.  hatred or intolerance of another race  or other races. 

Let me take a moment to evaluate myself.  Do I believe that people of any ethnic background are innately superior or have a right to rule others?  No.  Do I believe that people of varying ethnic backgrounds are innately more or less intelligent, moral, or carry specific personality traits based solely on their ethnicity?  No.  Do I refuse to tolerate someone of a different ethnic background?  No.

I just posted a picture of a man I admired.  Guess I'm OK.

Do you realize that a phobia is defined as a persistent, irrational fear of a specific object, activity, or situation that leads to a compelling desire to avoid it? Notice that it doesn't say "a disagreement with a specific object, activity, or situation."  It says an "irrational fear."

I submit to you today that simply because I disagree with homosexuality does not make me homophobic.  I don't fear homosexuality.  I see it as the sin that the Bible says it is.  I have no fear of homosexual activity.  I disagree with it.  Therefore, the term "homophobe" is inaccurate and demonstrates the user's ignorance of the subject.

Is it hateful to disagree with someone?  No.  I don't hate homosexuals.  Their sinful choices are called an abomination in the sight of God, yet He extends His grace and mercy toward them.  God doesn't hate homosexuals, and neither do I.  I have acquaintances and relatives who live a homosexual lifestyle.  They know my stand on the issue, yet they will each--if they're honest--tell you that I have always treated them with respect and compassion.  Telling someone they are violating the tenets of scripture is not hateful, it's helpful.  We are called to "speak the Truth in love."  Telling someone that homosexual activity is sinful and destructive is no different than telling someone that using heroin is sinful and destructive.

Yet, in our morally relativistic society, disagreement equals hate.  

There is a segment of society that revels in using these terms as ammunition.  It's a form of emotional extortion, really.  They silence their opposition by threatening to brand them with a scarlet letter.  You disagree with President Obama?  You must be a racist!  You oppose homosexual marriage?  You're a homophobe!  You disagree with different lifestyles and philosophies?  You're an intolerant bigot!  You take the Bible literally and call Christians to live by that standard?  You're judgmental!

Probably the most quoted--wrongly--scripture by non-believers and followers of aberrant doctrines while calling themselves Christians is from Matthew 7:

1 “Judge not, that you be not judged. ² For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you. ³ And why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye? ⁴ Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me remove the speck from your eye’; and look, a plank is in your own eye? ⁵ Hypocrite!  

The quoters of  this scripture use this to justify their claims that the "Bible thumper" is judgmental and intolerant.  They wag their finger in your face and warn you that you're treading dangerous ground when you point to scripture and say "this is what the Word says.  Here's how your behavior doesn't line up with that Word."  It's the spiritual version of "racist, bigot, homophobe, etc."

What these people nearly always do is omit the next part of verse five.

First remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.

You see, Jesus did not tell His followers to ignore the sin in the lives of those around them.  He did not tell us it is wrong to hold up the light of scripture and cast that light upon the actions of those who call themselves Christ Followers.  He said, "First, remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye."

This insistence on throwing the "judge not" clause at people is simply a wicked heart's way of avoiding the light of Truth.  Can a person be judgmental?  Yes.  It's wrong.  Just as racism is wrong.  However, to hold up the Word of Truth to someone and point out how their behavior violates that Word is a service, not a judgment.

If it was wrong to call Christians to account for their behavior, then all of Paul's letters have no place in scripture.  Then Jesus was wrong for calling the religious leaders hypocrites.  Then it was pointless for the Bible to be written at all, since it is a book of instructions for our lives.  Throughout scripture we are instructed to judge our own behavior and, yes, that of others.  (Read 1 Timothy 3, where we are instructed on how to choose leaders in the church.  We are called to judge them according to their actions.)  How can it be wrong to do exactly what God has called us to do?  Is God schizophrenic? No.

To judge someone unjustly is wrong.  To write them off as a soul unworthy of being reached and unworthy of salvage is wrong.  To take someone who claims to follow Christ but lives in contradiction to His Word, show them that Word and call them to accountability for their actions is called discipleship.

We live in an "anything goes" society, and the church has adopted this same philosophy.  You can teach anything you want in most churches and be accepted.  Look at false teachers like Joyce Meyer, Benny Hinn,   Joel Osteen and other charlatans.  They have huge followings because they make their listeners feel good about themselves, but never call them to a true biblical holiness.  They're frauds, and will be held to some very high standards by God, Himself.  We have the IHOP movement and the Emergent Church movement that reduces God to a touchy-feely "big papa in the sky" rather than a Holy and Just God who expects His children to be Holy and Just.  These are dangerous movements and dangerous people who are destroying lives.  Their followers are deceived by their flashy shows and the emotional outpouring at their concerts and gatherings.

Well, "anything" does not go.  We simply need more followers of Christ to be more interested in what the Bible says than what they feel.  We need to stop looking at worship as an "experience" and look at it as service to our Creator.  We need to present ourselves a "living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God."  That means setting aside our selfish desires, styles, and practices and doing what He commands.

So, you can call me a racist because I don't approve of our current President.  You can call me a homophobe because I disagree with the sinful lifestyle of homosexuality.  You can call me intolerant because I believe in right and wrong.  You can even call me judgmental because I point to scripture and display ways in which a so-called Christian wanders from it.  Simple fact is, you'd be wrong on all counts.  These are merely inflammatory terms designed to silence your opposition, usually because your opposition is making a solid point and you have no ground upon which to stand.

The Truth will always prevail.  The Truth will always shine gloriously upon the ruins of the world's lies.   You cannot silence it.  You cannot intimidate it.  You should embrace it.  It will make you free.