I wrote this article for Kindred Spirit’s Summer 2015 issue “Singles and the Church.” Kindred Spirit is the magazine of Dallas Theological Seminary.


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1. See us.

 

  • If you’re a speaker, talk about marriage, but also about the possibility of celibacy and prolonged singleness. Revere all options—like the apostle Paul did. 
  • Broaden views of male and female roles beyond breadwinning and childrearing.  

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Image courtesy of Hoola Talullah via flickr.com

 

2. Validate us.

 

  • Celebrate how God is using us by admiring our contributions at work or how we met that single parent for lunch.
  • Convince us of our significance—help us understand how we can use our schedules, our relationships, and our aloneness to bless the church and fulfill the missio Dei Continue Reading…

Some days, the trudge from nine to five feels like trekking through a spiritual no-man’s land. Maybe I should resign, I think, and move to Nepal and pass out copies of the Gospel of John. Then my work could count for the Kingdom. 

 

When I find myself thinking this way, I imagine the Apostle Paul. He’d probably say, “Wait a minute. I said, ‘Whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.’ (1 Cor. 10:31).” 

 

NCESTM3SB0Photo courtesy of Startup Stock Photos via stocksnap.io

 

Whether we pump gas in Toronto, teach at the University of Illinois, or run an orphanage in Sudan, our work can worship God. But, how? 

 

We worship God at work when we DEPEND on him for Continue Reading…

I tear the envelope open and unfold the jury summons. Grumble. The secretary double books my 11:00 appointment. Complain. I feel lonely on a Friday night. Grumble. Complain. Grumble.

 

Hi, my name is Shannon, and I’m a complainer. 

 

Nearly ten years ago, I signed myself into rehab with the Holy Spirit. Since then, I’ve made good progress, but still have frequent relapses. No, let me call it straight. I still sin. I rob God of worship when I complain and refuse to acknowledge his goodness. 

 

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I find it strange that hardly anyone comments on my complaining, let alone reminds me that it’s a sin. Well, except my mom, and only rarely. Usually, my friends and family (mom included) listen and empathize.


Maybe they’ve forgotten that complaining is a sin. Or, maybe they’ve chosen to extend grace and believe that God works in broken people, too Continue Reading…

I opened the break room door. The smell of fajitas met me, along with a man in scrubs. He stood up and shook my hand—all six feet and four inches of him and looking like someone from People’s Most Beautiful 2015.

 

One minute, it’s a normal Friday. The next, I’m fully aware of my sexuality. For the rest of the day, every muscle buzzed as if I’d guzzled a gallon of coffee.

 

Photo 1434210330765 8a00109fc773 Photo courtesy of Lechon Kirb

 

I realize that we singles aren’t the only ones who have to keep our sex-drives on a leash (see: Celibacy Is No Fun). Married people run into flirty strangers, too, and have to deal with temptation like the rest of us. Still, being single and choosing to defer sexual enjoyment until marriage has its moments (and days) of frustration Continue Reading…

I hold the flame near the burner. Click, click, click. The smell of fuel stings my nose. My stomach growls. Just then, my cousin Andrea returns with a bucket of water.

 

“Still not working?” she asks. 

 

“No.”    

 

“We could drive to Trelingua,” she says, “and see if they have camping stoves there.”

 

“Or, just eat the gumbo cold.” 

 

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My legs ache from hiking. I want to sprawl on a boulder and watch the sun sink behind the rusted Chisos Mountains, not drive forty-five minute to Terlingua to see if they sell stoves.  

 

A man with white whiskers moseys over from the adjacent campsite. 

 

“Trouble with the stove? Continue Reading…

“Any dates lately?” I ask. 

 

The sunshine skitters across the waves. A biker speeds past us. 

 

“A couple,” she says. “Nothing serious, though.”

 

“Guys or girls?”  

 

I wait for her answer. Uncertainty swirls around me. What if she says girls?

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Photo courtesy of Daniel Santalla via stocksnap.io

 

I’ve talked with my friend about her same-sex attraction before—at the local bakery between bites of cherry pie, over steaming bowls of tikka masala. Some months, she fights against her feelings Continue Reading…

A 23-year-old Sunday school teacher converts to Islam after hours online with Faisal, a Bangeldashi man living in England. He tells her, “I know someone who will marry you but hes not good looking, 45 bald but nice muslim,” and Alex plans to fly to Austria to meet her future husband. 

 

What makes a church girl in rural Washington willing to gamble everything on the advice of a man she’s only ever met on Skype? According to an article in The New York Times, Alex longed for community and a more robust faith, and Faisal spent hours answering her questions. This approach, according to an expert, matches the advice given in an Al Qaeda recruiting manual: “Listen to his conversation carefully…share his joys and sadness.”  

 

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Photo courtesy of Brandon Doran via flickr.com

 

I can’t believe I’m saying this; but, maybe we can learn something from Al Qaeda.

 

Listening deeply, entering into a person’s joys and sadness, investing hours and months—this almost sounds like love. Unfortunately, though, it’s not always how we introduce people to Jesus Continue Reading…

I squinted through the glass, studying the columns of ruffles, the blue sash, and the hint of puffed sleeves. My friend and I talked about the dress for weeks. But, I’m a pastor’s kid, which means I suffer from a love-hate relationship with shopping. 

 

If a shrink had me on her couch, she’d probably dip up memories of my mom dragging me to the back of every store, past the full-price clothes that glimmered and whispered my name. Even at the age of ten, I knew I had a better chance getting my gerbil to paint the Mona Lisa than of owning that dress.

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Photo courtesy of Christian Holzinger via unsplash.com

 

Several weeks later, my friend showed me her new Christmas outfit. As the gold taffeta swooshed around her legs, envy crawled up mine. I tried to smother images of the hand-me-downs I’d be wearing on Christmas Eve. 

 

But, just then, grace happened Continue Reading…

Ever since the Mayflower put down anchor, Christianity has enjoyed a place of privilege and respect in our country—a sort of friends-with-benefits relationship to government. But, for a lot of people, the spark is gone. They’re ready to cut ties and move on.

 

Like any break-up, the aftermath is ugly. Both sides feel demonized and both sides feel hurt. A loss of intimacy is never easy; but, as mainstream culture dumps Evangelical Christianity I’ve been wondering—will Christians respond with grace?

 

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Photo courtesy of Sharon via flickr.com

 

The moral landscape in America has changed and we Christians need to reconsider our message—not the core truths about Jesus, but how we package them. Many of our neighbors and coworkers no longer believe in absolute truth, let alone the Bible’s authority to determine their identity and behavior. Like the Apostle Paul, we need to tailor our message to each audience. Otherwise, we might fail to make contact Continue Reading…

The cop scribbled on his pad. “I don’t want to ruin your weekend,” he said. “So, I’ll run your card and let you off with a warning.” 

 

“Yes, sir,” I said, ducking my head. “Thank you, sir.” My head bobbed again.

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Photo courtesy of Areta Ekarafi via flickr.com

 

It’s been years since I’ve bowed to anyone, but suddenly I was back in South Korea squeezing my way through the teetering shelves of the neighborhood grocery store and turning around at the door. I’d press my hands together, duck my head toward the owner, and say “Annyeonghi gaseyo” before heading out.

 

I’d forgotten all about bowing until this cop and his pen almost scribbled two-hundred dollars out of my bank account. Suddenly, the habit came back in full force.  


Habits scuttle through lives our like mice—they scurry out when we least expect and the little buggers are hard to kill Continue Reading…