why i am getting married young (guest post by shelby grosser).

Shelby with her fiancee, Patrick.

I am overjoyed to introduce Shelby Grosser as the guest writer for today's blog post. A few months back, I wrote a post on singleness and why I have found joy through it in my personal life. That being said, I very much tried to uplift both marriage and singleness as beautiful, glorious things. So, I thought I'd ask Shelby to write a post on why she has found joy and beauty in marriage, as she is engaged to be married to Patrick Ray in a little over a month.

I've known Shelby for a few years now, and she is such an encouragement to be around. She is absolutely in love with Jesus, and out of that love pours a deep love for all people, which will become clear as you read her post. She is an urban studies major at Northwestern College and a church planter in Minneapolis, Minnesota with a radical heart for hospitality. I'm so blessed to have her featured on my blog. Also, make sure to check out her own blog, Letters from Phalanges. It's beautiful.

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I am in an interesting stage in life. I am nineteen years old (though almost twenty). I am a full time student preparing to enter my final year of undergrad this coming fall. I am a church planter. I am a regular overnight volunteer at a homeless shelter. And I am thirty-eight days away from being married. I was asked by a friend to write a post about why I have chosen marriage, and young marriage at that. So here I am.

Most of my life I assumed I would get married, be a mom, and a loyal member of the local church. As I grew older and wiser, these desires only grew, but their shape has changed with the seasons, molded by the knowledge acquired and the passion placed in me. One important thing for you to understand about the shape of my life thus far is that the Lord has seemingly walked me through experiences a bit ahead of the normal curve, quite consistently. I have always felt too old for the short years my body has lived, and I think this has partially influenced my contentment in pursuing young marriage.

But let's get down to the basics.

I have chosen to marry Patrick when I will be twenty and he will be twenty-one because I genuinely believe that he and I will be able to glorify the Lord more together than apart, and to delay the marriage would be to delay a beautiful partnership.

When I met Patrick we had a long string of conversations and experiences where we found likemindedness in each other that we each craved, but had yet to find. I believe the Lord called me to be a church planter my junior year of high school, and until I met Patrick three years later I had never met a peer who had a similar passion or call. Likewise, we bonded over a common heart for the city, orphans, adoption, hospitality, and those experiencing homelessness.

You do not need everything in common to choose to be married or to make a good marriage. In fact, Patrick and I don't even have a majority of things in common, but we do align beautifully on the big things. Patrick and I both find worldview and values to be crucial commonalities in order to pursue a lifelong covenant with someone. As we grew in friendship we found great likemindedness in values, faith, and in the direction the Lord was asking us individually to go. It fell beautifully into place that we would walk into what God has asked us to do individually, together.

I cannot fully articulate the blessing this has been in my life. To have found someone with such a similar passion for life, Christian ministry, and love for our neighbors has brought such a sincere joy and a beautiful trust in the strong cornerstone of our relationship.

We each separately are sacrificing several things in our decision to marry young. At an obvious level, we are giving up some freedom in relationships with the opposite sex. Though we will joyously continue our friendships, there are necessary boundaries now put on my relationships with men and his with women. Additionally, we are choosing to learn to live with the same person for the rest of our days. We will sacrifice our "normal" way of life to adjust to someone else's. We will surrender much of the freedom of singleness and independence. But I wholeheartedly believe that the cost is minimal in comparison to all the joy of our young marriage.

In marrying young we will have the pleasure of growing into each other as adults, rather than growing older separately and then learning to live in such an intimate relationship with someone. We will be able to adventure into a life on mission in Minneapolis, Minnesota, planting churches, serving our neighbors, inviting in the stranger and the friend in a way that we cannot do to the same extent as just friends, or individuals. In getting married young, we are choosing to form our lives and our adult years around the Lord and around a life long covenant to love and submit to another well.

I am getting married at the young age of twenty because I truly and wholeheartedly believe that Patrick Ray is someone who will grow me in my love for the Lord, serve me in the hard and easy places, and be a phenomenal partner in life and mission, enabling both of us to do more than we could have imagined being able to do for the Lord. I am getting married young because the cost is well worth the joy and beauty to follow.

As a disclaimer, when I talk about the joy and beauty of marriage I am not simply referring to the happiness and fun times. I am referring to the hard places, the soul work, the brokenness and pain of surrendering your life and trusting someone in hard places. I am referring to the holistic picture of the life long covenant, with circumstantial beauty and joy, and circumstantial pain and struggle.

stumbling through footsteps with secret-soul-scars: my guest post for a journey on the trail.

I'm very excited to be featured today on my friend's blog, A Journey on the Trail. This is the blog of Patrick Ray, and I'll just use his own description from his website to introduce him:

My name is Patrick Ray. I live in Minneapolis, Minnesota. I desire to see small neighborhood churches started all across this beautiful city. My best friend and fiancee's name is Shelby Brooke; I get to marry her on May 31st. Also, I love semi-colons.

It's kind of perfect because I'm still completely confused by semi-colons, so I guess our blogs balance each other out. His writing is consistently humble, grace-filled and poignant, always lodging itself deep in my brain and my heart, getting me to not only think about it, but feel it. I've known him for about a year, and I so appreciate his heart for people and the way he sees them as exactly that: people that matter.

So, I jumped at the opportunity to write a guest post for his blog (as a trade-off, he will be featured speaking in my next vlog episode!) I decided to write on the woman who anoints Jesus' feet with perfume, as I had just recently read the story during my quiet time.

Here's an excerpt, with a link to the full post down below:

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Jesus turned toward the woman and said to Simon,

"Do you see this woman?

I entered your house; you gave me no water for my feet, but she has wet my feet with her tears and wiped them with her hair.

You gave me no kiss, but from the time I came in she has not ceased to kiss my feet.

You did not anoint my head with oil, but she has anointed my feet with ointment.

Therefore I tell you, her sins, which are many, are forgiven - for she loved much.

But one who is forgiven little, loves little."

--Luke 7:44-47 (emphasis added)

On the flip side, one who is forgiven much, loves much.

The fact that through our sins and through God's forgiveness we can learn to love better absolutely blows me away. For to me, we're all just stumbling through Christ's footsteps, trying our best to hold onto his Love through the cracks in the earth and the dirt in our skin. We love because he first loved us. And sometimes we fall, sometimes we fall a lot, which should be reason enough for Christ to leave us behind to sit in the mire.

But for some crazy reason that still doesn't make sense to me, he crouches down next to us, stepping into the muck and looking us in the eyes. We cringe because we expect him to yell, but he speaks soft, gentle. He speaks Healing.

Your sins, which are many, are forgiven.

Read the full post here: 
http://ajourneyonthetrail.wordpress.com/2014/04/21/from-anthony-bankes-stumbling-through-footsteps-with-secret-soul-scars/

when captain america and yellowtree collide.

Let me begin by saying that most of the superhero movies I've seen, especially the Marvel ones, haven't really done anything for me (Dark Knight trilogy not included). It's not that they're bad movies, per se. They've all been thoroughly entertaining, but have never left me with a great desire to see them again.

So, I saw Captain America: The Winter Soldier over the weekend. And my initial reaction?

Mind. Blown.

Jaw. Dropped.

Seriously. I absolutely loved it. Loved it. I could watch it again right now (I know, it's weird to hear me raving like this about a Marvel movie, too). But I can't help it. It was so freaking good.

Not only were the action sequences incredibly crafted and crazy suspenseful, but the character development was spot-on. The directors absolutely nailed it this time.

Here, Captain America isn't just a bulky super human out to save the world. He's a real person with a mind of his own and a moral compass that guides his decisions throughout the entire movie. He questions things, really questions things, and he's not afraid to stand up for what he believes is right and true and free. He has this untainted innocence about him, even when he's staring evil in the face, and I so appreciated his heart that saw people as people, as friends, rather than mere objects or roadblocks to kill.


Here, Black Widow isn't just some provocative, hardcore secret agent, but a real person with a past of her own and feelings that she's kept bottled up for most of her life. We catch a glimpse of where she came from and where she's going now, connecting the dots and tracing a picture of her rarely seen vulnerability, the deeper reasons behind her cardboard facade of lies and deception.

Most of the conversations were filmed with close-ups of the characters' faces, zooming in on their facial expressions and body language and the many things communicated with their eyes alone. Seriously, I was surprised by how entranced I became during the dialogue scenes. They pulled me in from the very first close-up and really got me to feel the characters, not just see them.

Beyond that, there's an absolutely beautiful scene toward the end (I won't give any major spoilers, but I should probably at least throw out a minor spoiler alert, just in case) where Captain American refuses to fight one of his friends, even when they're on opposing sides. He takes punch after punch after punch, to the point where it almost becomes hard to watch, before looking his friend in the eye and saying, "I'm with you til the end of the line."

Okay. Let's just say Anthony may have been a slight mess in the middle of the theater and I'm really glad it was dark. But this scene impacted me at such a deep, emotional level, as it resonated with one of the main scenes of Yellowtree, the one that sets the stage for the reconciliation that unfolds over most of the book. If you don't already know, Yellowtree revolves around Levi and Jake, two best friends that slowly grow apart in high school due to Jake giving into peer pressure and Levi distancing himself emotionally from everyone but himself. Jake eventually lashes out at Levi as an initiation into his newfound group of friends, physically injuring him while Levi refuses to fight back.

You may be starting to connect the dots already. But I saw Levi in Captain America, in the way that he refused to fight back, refused to give into violence and fear and anger, even when he was being pummeled by the one he thought would always be there for him.

I saw Levi in the way Captain America looked at his friend, barely able to see through his swollen eyes, but hanging onto hope. There was hope in his eyes and there is hope in Levi's eyes, even when he feels hopeless. He obscures the truth with all of his insecurities, doubts and fears, but deep down, he knows that the truth will set him free and he knows that he did the right thing.

I saw Levi in the way Captain America barely made out, "I'm with you til the end of the line," like he wasn't giving up and he wasn't giving in. It's funny, because this was all just one rather brief scene in the movie, but it somehow evoked the emotions of Yellowtree from the opening chapters to the very end. For even when Levi is absolutely terrified of Jake and wanting nothing to do with him, he doesn't give up and he works out his pain inch by inch and step by step until the climax of the novel, when he realizes that he needs to stick by Jake's side and he's not going anywhere. Jake doesn't go anywhere either.

I won't tell you how this whole conflict with Captain America and his friend ends (you'll just have to see it for yourself). But I wanted to share how much I appreciated the film for its emotional depth and complex maturity that was rather stunning for a superhero movie. Obviously, not everyone's going to connect with the same elements of the film as I did, but I would absolutely love to hear about anything that sticks out to you. There's so much going on in the film, I'm sure you'll find something to talk about.

And if you haven't seen it yet, I cannot recommend it enough.

Also, since my book came up in this post, I thought I'd update you and let you know that I've gone through and fixed some of the more glaring grammatical and sentence structure issues, and am now zooming out once again to focus on character and relationship development. It's so heavily focused on the characters and their dialogue, I want to make sure that the relational progression between friends, family members, etc. is believable and down to earth.

That's all I have today. Peace to you, dear friends.

roller coaster journies and sexuality spectrums.

For those of you that pay particularly close attention to my blog, you may have noticed that I took down my 2013 post on homosexuality entitled, "christian-homophobe-stereotypes and gay-people-projects." It was actually my most popular post with the most comments, but I can no longer keep it up with a good conscience. The more recent World Vision fiasco has brought me back to this topic once again, searching, wrestling, begging God for some clarity on such a polarizing debate.

I hate that. Even that feels wrong, a debate. For the LGBTQ community isn't a debate. They're more than a theological disagreement or a raging sermon behind the pulpit or cardboard projects to twist and mold, tear apart.

They're people. Living, breathing human beings, created in the radiant image of God, knitted together with quirks and favorite colors and deep dark secrets and laughter to laugh and tears to cry.

Now, I'm not going to dive too deep into World Vision's decision, as that's not the main purpose of this post. Instead, I'll redirect you to a superb post by Jen Hatmaker that faithfully explains the dilemma and moves forward from there with grace and gentleness toward all sides. I will say that I agree with Rachel Held Evans when she said, "I had not realized the true extent of the disdain evangelicals have for our LGBT people." And while I believe World Vision should've expected the mass divide that making such a statement would cause, I'm still confused as to how withdrawing one's sponsorship of a child is a beneficial way to express one's opinion on same-sex marriage.

As I was searching for answers, I came across this blog post by Benjamin Moberg. While I don't agree with everything he talks about (more on that later), it hit me hard enough to lead me to take down my initial posting on homosexuality. Give it a read before continuing on.

Before I say anything else, I'd like to apologize for adding to the oppression unknowingly. There I was, trying to reach out in love to both sides and not alienate people and walk on the eggshells as lightly as possible. And in doing so, I created my own polarizing divide - the gays vs. the Christians. It's ironic, because I mentioned in that very post just how easily Christians make such ostracizing polarizations, not even realizing that I was doing it myself. In fact, reading through "The Accidental Oppressors," I actually felt like Benjamin Moberg was writing about my specific blog post at times. I continued to situate all gay people next to the woman at the well, simply because they were gay, and all Christians next to Jesus, doing nothing more than nicely rewording love the sinner, hate the sin, which, as penned by Moberg himself, is "lazy pseudo-progressive theology." I wasn't being progressive. I wasn't taking the middle path, no matter how many times I used the word "love."

Here's what I'm getting at - the LGBTQ community and the church aren't going to get anywhere together if we keep seeing it like that - the church people and the gay people, the saints and the sinners. Sexuality is not a dichotomy, not an either-or question that can be marked A or B. Even among the LGBTQ community, there are fiery activists who want nothing to do with Christians, but also couples passionately committed to Christ, radically working out his love into the hearts of others. And somewhere in between all of that are the gay Christians committed to celibacy. This can be seen throughout the church as well, from the stereotypical 'Bible-banging homophobes' to the full-fledged LGBTQ supporters to the ones standing in between. It's one big spectrum and I'm just now trying to figure out where I land on such a wide open field.

That is what I failed to realize in my original post. I unknowingly equated all Christians with 'anti-gays' who needed to love better, while making all gay people out to be the sinners in need of that loving, as if Christians weren't sinners and gay people couldn't be Christians. I think it's especially important to remember that, as a Christian, being a child of God becomes one's main identity. Sexual orientation, gender, race, class - none of these things make up one's entire identity, nor are any of them the most important part of one's identity. Whether you're a straight Christian, a gay Christian, a bi-sexual Christian, etc. - our most important identity as Christians is as children of God.

Now, I'm not saying I agree with everything Moberg writes in his post. While I do believe that the Bible is filled with stories of God stepping in for the marginalized, I don't think it's enough to stop there. To me, the Bible tells the story of humankind choosing to turn away from their Creator, and God choosing to respond with love and reconciliation, stepping in for all people so that all may experience His Peace That Surpasses All Understanding.

Still, most of Moberg's main, overarching points are so beneficial to hear and learn about. I now can see the laziness behind the "just love" argument that so pervaded my initial post. It's almost like a cop-out to the truth, something to fall back on because I was scared of taking a side or admitting something vulnerable like I don't know. There. I said it.

I don't know.

I'm currently on my own journey of searching for the truth, of being curious and looking in those small spaces and cracks often covered up by anger, by fear, by sheer cluelessness. Benjamin Moberg writes about this journey in his article, about studying the Bible and different theology and talking to gay people and always remembering to praypraypray. To pray "for an ear that pricks at divine revelation." To search out what God wants, rather than what gay Christians or traditional Christians or progressive Christians or anyone else want.

That is what I'm trying to do. In all honesty, I'm still a college punk trying to figure out who I am, so it feels like a bit of a roller coaster at times. Or all the time. I'd like to invite you along on this journey with me, as I know it'll be so much better in the context of community, with different voices to hear, opinions to sort through and stories to treasure.

Right now, I think it's good to stand in the tension. That heavy, kind of uncomfortable feeling that comes when we acknowledge the humanity of the entire spectrum, from the far left to the far right and every nook and cranny in between. Moberg absolutely nails it on the head when he writes in his article, "May We Never Stop Speaking,"

I am a gay Christian. I have come to feel the destabilizing truth of this declaration. It packs a punch. It pisses off the gatekeepers more than anything, and evokes a call to love and learn from those with searching hearts. It provokes conversations that are fruitful and drop seeds, into both our souls, as we learn the difference between hate and disagreement, gay pride floats and committed relationships, as we, as I, ply apart the person from the, now inflammatory, Evangelical.

I still have so much to learn, so many conversations to have. But the term gay Christian doesn't come up a lot, especially in the evangelical church, and so I think it's good to sit with that for a while and refuse to ignore the feelings it brings up. For me, hearing those words brings up so many different voices that I've recently been hearing, ones who identify themselves as gay Christians and ones whom I always associate with so much love. People like Justin Lee of the Gay Christian Network (and author of the phenomenal book, Torn), or Wesley Hill, author of the fantastic, Washed and Waiting. People like Benjamin Moberg himself - I have learned so much from simply reading the blogs of these people and listening to their stories, their points of view, their perspectives.

And since I've come to learn that being gay refers solely to one's sexual orientation, not their sexual behavior, I am more than fully convinced that one can be gay and a Christian.

I consistently find, not just through reading online, but from listening to the people around me, that some Christians associate being gay with having sex, objectifying gay people and reducing them to nothing more than sex acts. And it strikes me as strange, seeing that no one ever does this with straight people. When someone admits that he or she is straight, people usually don't assume that they're  running around having sex all the time. It makes sense, seeing that having a sexual orientation is not inherently sinful. It's what one chooses to do with those desires and attractions that determine whether or not it's considered sinful through the lens of Christianity.

So, I will say it again, this time louder. I'll shout it from the mountain tops, because I just don't think enough Christians are comfortable embracing and supporting this belief, even if they agree with it. It's more of an under-your-breath, hope-nobody's-listening kind of thing. And that's got to be discouraging to the GLBTQ community. So, once again, I fully believe one can be a gay Christian and that there's nothing sinful or damning about it. 

I'm not going to go beyond orientation and get into the debate over sexual behavior right now, because I've already admitted that I don't know. I'm walking this path slowly, steadily. But just because I took my initial post down doesn't mean I disagree with its main point of loving one another as Christ has loved us. I still plan on loving all people regardless of orientation, religion or stance on homosexuality, and I will try my best to weave that love into a consistent picture of grace and humility that is quick to listen and slow to speak.

But what does that love look like? What does it smell and feel and taste like, how is it spoken about and lived out in this life of Joy and Gentleness and Peace? I know there's so much more to sexuality and Christianity than what one measly blog post can contain and that's what I'm trying to work out, piece by piece and word by word, through the hearts of people and the Love Light of God that speaks deep into souls with its soothing, healing voice.

I'm going to be curious, I'm going to be relentless, I'm going to keep pushing and pushing some more and then when I'm so tired and worn down by God and think I finally might be getting somewhere helpful, I'm going to push some more.

And maybe then, just maybe, I'll catch a glimpse of what this love looks like.