Questioning of Culture

Culture is one of those often used, rarely specifically defined concepts. It seems it can be used as a catch-all term that encompasses more than anyone really can keep track of. I personally find culture to be very interesting; I love learning about how different people form different groups and decide to live in a particular way. However, there's something that I've noticed about how we explain and notice our own culture and the cultures of others; it's mostly defined by differences.


I am, like many North Americans, a European cocktail, all sorts of different family lines intertwine and ethnic groupings are in there somewhere and I'm not exactly sure what 'I am'. My culture seems to follow along the same hazy lines; there's a little bit of Welsh inspired cuisine at my grandparent's holiday feasts, and my family has an affinity for out Italian heritage, but all in all the cultural backdrop that I've grown up in seems to me to be normal by virtue of experience and by virtue of it not digressing much from everyone else. This is what I've found to be particularly thought-provoking over the past few days; we tend to recognize our culture by what is different from someone else's, it is not a concept that is commonly defined in and of itself. In my experience this has played out by realizing things that are different, and being able to connect them to a culture. I recognized that the Welsh food being served at my grandparents' table was unique and special, and as such, a cultural creation; this recognition was birthed through the comparison of it not being present at the other grandparents' table. Outside of comparison and recognition of difference, I would not have realized that ever-so-loved Yorkshire pudding, and not-so-loved fruitcake were something that was tied to a culture because to me it seemed normal. It was something that was always present in my experience of holiday dinners and we don't tend to notice something as different when it's a frequent occurrence in the history of our lives.


All this thought about culture and how we come to define and categorize it based mostly on a recognition of differences has lead me to think about God's call on our lives to live counter-culturally.  There is a very specific call on our lives to live differently; to be light and salt in the world (Matthew 5:13-16). "Don't copy the behavior and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think." (Romans 12:2).


I question if I live differently enough for it to be recognized that I am from a different culture. I wonder if I actually look, act and think in a way that diverges from normal to such an extent that others realize that there is something unfamiliar and unknown about me.

There's Something to be Said for Desperation

Desperation is not one of those terms that we look at in a positive light; it's not generally a compliment to be called 'desperate'. But, I think there's much more within desperation that can lead to good. We often overlook the results that the state of desperation can bring because we put our attention into the pain of the situation, as opposed to the Glory that God can bring through it.


I believe that the point of desperation is the point when you're finally willing to let go of self, and hold onto God. As a self-declared pride-filled human (unfortunately), I know that I rely on myself for as long as I can possibly manage, before crumbling into God's arms and realizing the stupidity of my ignorance. However, the journey to that crumbling point is often one that requires a brokenness, emptiness, all to culminate in a state of desperation.


I remember someone once mentioned in their testimony that it wasn't until their back was against the wall that they finally called on God. This has always stayed with me as a salient memory that reminds me of God's faithfulness, our need for Him and how hard it is to battle against ourselves to accept our need for Him.


Despite the connotations linked to this word today, I see it as representing the opportunity for hard hearts to soften, and prodigal sons to return. Desperation is certainly not a fun season; but it is a beautiful painful season, where hearts are open, pride is broken, and God moves in a powerful way.

The Reason

Why write a blog?
Well, I can't speak for everyone.. but I suppose that this started for me in an attempt to keep myself sane. To get right to the point... I've been thinking a lot lately, about everything! Life, Forgiveness, the Future, Society, Joy, Pain, Surrender, Missions, Teaching, Heaven, Culture, Language, Books; to suffice, Everything! 
I know myself well enough by this point in my life to know that I need an outlet for these mental tinkerings, and that I'm open and honest enough to tell anyone. 
So, consider this blog an attempt to save the poor stranger on the bus from getting an endless rant and contemplative narrative. Instead, You... whoever is reading this, gets to enjoy it instead (just pretend you're sitting beside me).