My Testimony

I suppose this is something good to have on hand, and I remember things I write. Since it's written, why not put it somewhere? It's longer than I'd like, but there's a lot to say. For years I thought I didn't have a testimony, or at least not one anybody would be interested in hearing. But that's because I've spent most of my life not actually having the faintest idea of what I was doing, at least in a spiritual sense. I was still as confused as many who had never prayed or stepped into a church. You don't get to read about a life of crime and recklessness, but hopefully my less outwardly dramatic account resonates with common folk.

I grew up in a Christian family. However, the church we went to for the first ten years of my life was not a healthy one. Through the family of a brother's friend, we started going to the church where my family still belongs today. At that church, I started to actually learn what Christianity was all about. In fourth grade I was baptized.

It wasn't until three or four years later that I actually started to change as a result of my faith. I wasn't the best kid in middle school. To cut to the point, I'll just summarize my middle school self as a malicious coward. At some point, it occurred to me that I wasn't living like Christians were supposed to. Primarily motivated by duty I began to change my actions.

By the time I graduated from high school, I was a much nicer person and had even occasionally talked about God to friends, but I never really understood it. Deep down, I was always just doing the things I was supposed to do, not the things I was excited to do because I had a personal relationship with the God of the universe. I fooled myself into believing that intellectual pursuit of God was my way of personally relating to him. I was very Bible literate and could put down most arguments against God, but all this knowledge didn't amount to much without personal knowledge of the God I supposedly served.

At college I joined a little house church that was part of a association of churches known as the Great Commission Movement. The people there loved God with their hearts, minds, and everything else they had. But things started to get interesting after winter break. My roommate and her parents had gone on a winter retreat with the Great Commission Movement and uncovered some serious mistakes made in the history of the movement. She and I and the third girl of our inseparable trio didn't know what to do. We prayed, researched, and talked with each other, our parents, and the leaders of the church for about a month of the most emotional pain I have ever endured. The church had become our home, and we were terrified that we would need to leave it. In the end, we arrived at the decision the church was safe. Yes, the founders had made some mistakes, but they had apologized and redirected themselves since then.

However, not all the complaints against the Great Commission Movement were valid. Some of the things people didn't like were things taught in the Bible that are simply more "extreme" than what most churches today ask of their members. They called for a faith and dedication that put God unreservedly at the center of every Christian's life. That wasn't something I had. In fact, there were all sorts of things I saw in my brothers and sisters leading the church that I didn't have and didn't understand. What was I missing about God? Thus began the often painful but spiritually vivifying pruning that extended through the rest of the calendar year.

The next significant phase started that summer. By June when I went to a youth conference as an adult leader, I knew things were amiss with my spiritual life. It didn't really feel like life at all. I had never really been close to God at all ever, and I didn't know what to do about it. I had set goal after goal for myself and fallen short of every one of them. I jumped on the opportunity to participate in a summer discipleship program, but even that became a ritual for me. While many of the others left feeling like they had grown, I left knowing more than ever that I was spiritually malnourished.

With the fall semester came the hardest and most rewarding lessons I've ever learned in my life. I began to read Crazy Love by Francis Chan and was convicted by the lukewarm Christian he described. His description fit me to a T, and I desperately wanted to change that. I just didn't know how to give up control, even though I knew I couldn't make it work on my own. I guess I didn't know well enough yet that I couldn't succeed on my own, because I kept on failing for a while and not really letting God work. At my college church's fall retreat I finally broke and understood just how much I really can't succeed spiritually at all on my own.

But the pruning wasn't done yet. For one thing, I still had never truly known what it was like to know God. The following weekend I headed back home to be a leader for the high school fall retreat at my home church. We read A.W. Tozer's The Knowledge of the Holy. One of the last chapters was on the omnipresence of God. I got partway through and stopped. It made absolutely no sense to me. I knew omnipresence wasn't some sort of pantheistic Pocahontas sort of thing, but I hadn't a clue what it might be. If God was everywhere all the time, how come I never sensed it at all? I was rather frustrated with God at this point. I crossed my arms and rather irately prayed something along the lines of "God, this doesn't make sense. You've been hacking away at me for a while now, and I'd like a little comfort. If you're there, show me. But I don't want some sort of mystical feel-good experience. If that's all you have to offer, I'm not interested."

I can't accurately describe what followed, but even as I type this I'm starting to tear up at how powerful it was. My stubborn glare and crossed arms turned into sobbing into my hands with joy and I don't even know what else. God was there, and I knew it. It wasn't precisely a feeling or thought, but it was real. It was more real than anything. I'd felt "spiritual highs" after high school church conferences, and this wasn't it. This was something so much more real and yet so much more beyond my comprehension. God was there. I suppose he always has been and always will be, but I don't often know it the way I did on that chilly October afternoon.

Do I understand what omniscience is? No. Can I answer the other theological questions I've been unable to fathom? No. Do I know how to go about changing and surrendering to God? Still no, but that at least is getting better. The difference is that I no longer have to go through intellectual arguments every time I feel like life is hopeless and God an illusion. I can remember back to that day and other instances since then and know that God is real because I've been in his presence. I don't have to do things the Bible says because a book tells me to. I choose to try to do the things the Bible says because I love the God behind it. I'm still a coward who messes up a lot, but after that experience I was at the point where God could begin to help me do something about it.

I still can't get past the fact I can't tell you what it was like. I know it sounds trippy to anyone who's never been there. I, too, have heard people describe similar situations and rolled my eyes at what I interpreted as sentimentalism and an over-active imagination. I've sneered at people who claimed to have communicated with God and loathed the phrases I'd heard others use to try to describe the indescribable. And yet now I understand that the words don't exist to say what you mean. I'm stuck with things that sound absurd from the outside, hoping that my sincerity and the fact that I'm not prone to wishy-washiness will somehow make me believable to those who have never been there. You simply have to meet God on your own. There's no other way to understand. It's definitely worth it.

Audiobook Review: Lilth

Thanks to Librivox I can now listen to books instead of not having the time to read them. I started re-reading George McDonald's Lilith this summer on the plane ride back from Colombia, but unfortunately I left the book on the plane when I was just a few chapters in. I mentioned this to a friend a few months ago, and he introduced me to the wonderful world of Librivox. Visit their site for more information. I finished listening to Lilth not too long ago after driving to Purdue, back home, and back to Purdue again plus some lab time.

I remembered Lilith being dark but good, but I didn't remember how dark and good it was. Some of the images evoked could have made Poe shudder, so beautifully written but fantastically grotesque they were. Death, decay, and disfigurement both physical and spiritual were woven liberally into this tale of the redemption of things twisted by evil. But along with the horror was beauty, compassion, and wonder. The 

Mr. Vane is the protagonist of the story. He is a young man who has just come into inheritance of the family estate after graduating from college where he invested far more time in books and knowledge than in people. Through a series of odd events, he finds himself in another world (sort of) where he is befriended by Mr. Raven, a man of paradox and mystery. In this other world he learns that he is dead, though he believes himself alive, and that the only way to be alive is to go to sleep in the cold house of Mr. Raven. He fears sleeping there, however, and the adventures that ensue are what it takes to get him to realize that he really does need to sleep and really can trust Mr. Raven. This is a rather incomplete synopsis, but to go into too much more detail would require more explanation and the book might be spoiled.

MacDonald is clearly using sleeping and waking as a symbol for death to self and rebirth into the kingdom of God. Some people take more convincing of their need of sleep than others, but they all wind up there in the end. If all MacDonald meant to say with the book is that anyone can be redeemed through Christ no matter how long and painful the process is, I would agree wholeheartedly with him. However, he takes things a step too far. MacDonald asserts that everyone, even the shadowy representation of Satan, will be redeemed in the end. To be fair, he doesn't say that God will just decide to forgive everyone and be all nice and lovey dovey. He still thinks everyone has to arrive at the point of brokenness and surrender necessary for God to work. He just thinks everyone will get there. If you ignore several hints and outright statements in the last few chapters, the theology is excellent. Again, I can't elaborate without spoilers. I definitely recommend that you read/listen to this book.

Book Review: Out of the Silent Planet

Oh, how I've missed C.S. Lewis. I read The Last Battle out loud with Lizzy over the summer when we, Josh, and Chad took a trip to Mammoth Caves, but reading a book out loud isn't quite the same. And there's a difference between reading Lewis for children (although I would never ever suggest that adult's shouldn't enjoy the Chronicles of Narnia) and Lewis for adults. So maybe my next project will be The Screwtape Letters. It's been sitting on my desk at home for a year or two now.

But that's enough jibber jabber. I haven't said anything at all of the book itself yet. It was an excellent read full of food for thought and imagination. Malacandra, the beautiful world he crafted, had such a charming culture and a stunning landscape that I can't wait to read the next book in the trilogy so I can visit again. It's a world that operates as it ought to. A foolish reader might read unintended political statements into Lewis' portrayal of Malacandra, but to get caught up in that would be to miss the point entirely. As one might suspect from Lewis, the intended point was a theological one.


Spoilers ahead. I've left out the bulk of the plot, but it you wanted to read it and find the message for yourself skip ahead.

[spoilers]
The direct message of the book is to communicate that Earth and its sentient creatures have been corrupted - bent, to use the Malacandran term - by its governing eldil (someone from a Christian background would read the eldil as some sort of angelic authorities, Earth's being Satan). Malacandra was wounded by Earth's corrupt eldil, but saved by its own governing eldil (Oyarsa) at a great price and has managed to continue operating in its ideal state. Because of his corruption, earth's governing eldil has been cast from the heavens to the earth thereby limiting his influence to the sentient creatures of Earth. But Maleldil (the God-figure) has a plan to redeem Earth. Sounding familiar at all?
[/spoilers]

Out of the Silent Planet sets the stage for further metaphorical exploration of the gospel. We'll see where the other books take us. Lewis doesn't tend to bluntly present his ideology to his readers (he cleverly cut out of the recorded story the implied full word-for-word telling of the gospel), so I'm interested to see what happens next. Maybe I'll get a chance to read the others over break.

Book Review: Crazy Love

Two summers ago at CIY I picked up Crazy Love by Francis Chan. I sort of suspected I was missing a little something in my Christian life. And by a little something I mean a big something, that something being a desire for God. I had an interest in intellectually pursuing apologetics and theology and the like, but it was no different than my desire to learn about things like cells and architecture.

It wasn't until this fall that I actually got around to starting the book, and it wasn't until this winter that I finally finished it, but I'm glad I did. This book has been a huge help to me this semester as I've begun to overhaul my Christianity to build an actual faith in and relationship with God.

Chan's book talks about God's extravagant love and our inappropriate response to it. Every word I read resonated with the struggle I had been dealing with since January. Yes, I know in my brain that God loves us an awful lot and that we should love him and obey him in return. But that's the same line a three-year-old can parrot and not actually mean. I could even say it with emotion from time to time, put it in all sorts of words and metaphors, and provide logical arguments in support. Heck, I'd even been emotionally moved to some degree by thinking about it before. But Chan's book took everything I'd been reading and half-glossing over for my entire life like a toddler and spelled it out plain and simple saying "here is the truth; it is beautiful, painful, and challenging."

First came the beautiful part, the stuff we all know and love. God is immense and powerful and majestic, but he still chooses to love us. He chose to live and die as a man so that we could be purified and stand in his presence for all eternity. I don't at all want to downplay the beauty of the truth, but I do want to say that we can't stop there. Even telling God we're sorry for messing up and trying to be nicer doesn't cut it. It's only once you start to work through the pain and challenge of the truth that the beauty of it really starts to dawn on you brighter than ever before.

Next came the painful part: there is no such thing as a lukewarm Christian. Depending on your definition of a Christian. If a Christian is merely someone who goes to church, reads the Bible, and has a list of prayer requests, then sure you can have lukewarm Christians. But if a Christian is a follower of Christ with the assurance of salvation, there's no room for half-heartedness. Jesus says to follow him with all that we are. To do anything less is hypocrisy that fools only us, if even that much. This idea is firmly supported by scripture over and over again. Yes, true followers of Christ will have times where they mess up to varying degrees, but a life characterized by complacency and comfort is not the life of a person who has been changed by God. There's a lot more I could say here (I will quickly add that he addressed our inability to change by our own willpower), but you've really got to read the book and pray and talk through it.

Before I continue I must add that after the painful part I put the book down for a couple months. I "didn't have time to read." Really, I think I needed to process what I had read, and I needed to be broken more before I could rise to the challenge. This book alone is not responsible for the change I'm going through. Don't barrel through the book in a day because it's a quick read. Take the time to wrestle with it, whether that means a few days, a few weeks, or a few months. I had to do a lot of talking to and hearing from God before I was ready to move on.

Finally came the challenging part. So what are we going to do now? God is handing us this incomprehensible love, and we've largely ignored it, choosing instead to be comfortable and sing songs and say church words. Well, before we can take another step we have to realize that we need the help of the Holy Spirit every step of the way (this sort of blends into the painful section). That done, what we need to do is follow God with everything we have. What will it look like for you to be sold out to God? The specifics are only known to you and God, but there are three main inter-connected points brought out by Chan. One: a life characterized by trust. We should take risks that we cannot possibly expect to end well without the power of God (now, this should be well-seasoned with wisdom, but that's a conversation that could be had at length at some other time). Two: a life that doesn't seek comfort. You're going to have to sacrifice sleep, money, dreams, friendships, and who knows what else. Three: a dedication to meeting the needs of others. A key component of this is meeting physical needs. While you don't have to start a homeless shelter, it's undeniable that God has compassion for the poor and the helpless, and we need to share that. To sum it all up, the true Christian life shouldn't make sense to outsiders, but it should line up with the will of God. In the end, it will be worth it to stand in the presence of God surrounded by those you've been able to bring with you by the power of God.

I've got a lot to work on, but I am working on it. I've got some plans laid out and some ideas I'm tinkering with. My biggest next step is taking everything I've learned, laying aside my cowardice, taking on God's courage, and talking to people. There are all sorts of people I need to talk to about all sorts of things. What's next for you?

What was the name of that chaperone protein you were talking about?

Dr. Thompson has fully redeemed himself, in my opinion. Yes, organic chemistry is a hard class, but it has become a class that inspires in me all sorts of questions - questions that he is willing and capable of answering and then giving even more information. The closer we drift toward biochemistry, the more excited I get about the subject material. I can see more and more of it complementing what I know about cellular biology.

Today we started off slightly off-topic with a question about proteins from another girl. I don't remember what it was, but the important part is that somehow the topic of chaperone proteins (chaperonins) came up. Chaperonins are cell proteins that help fold other proteins into their proper tertiary and quaternary structures. There are many different chaperonins, but one of particular interest is the GroEL-GroES complex.

The GroEL-GroES complex is found inside E. coli. It has by far the broadest range of "clients," or proteins it assists in folding. The exact processes by which it transforms the peptide chains are unknown, but some of the basics are understood. GroEL is a barrel-shaped, 14-unit polypeptide (in the picture to the left, the blue unit + the green one) that does the actual folding of the protein. GroES is a 7-unit polypeptide that forms the lid of the barrel (the red parts of the picture). Unfolded peptide chains are attracted to the complex somehow. One end of the chain is bonded to a non-polar site on the inside of GroES. This bonding triggers the lid to close, guiding the peptide into the barrel. Once GroES had covered GroEL, GroEL rotates so as to remove the non-polar site the peptide was bonded to thereby leaving the chain sitting unattached inside the barrel. Through the rotating of the barrel pieces and other unknown kinds of craziness, the complex is able to fold the new protein into its proper shape. Once folding is complete, the barrel-closing procedure is reversed and the fully functional new protein is released into the cytosol.

The most stunning thing is GroES-GroEL's ability to fold hundreds of different kinds of proteins. It's not like the chemical characteristics of the primary and secondary structures of some specific protein interact with the barrel in a highly specified way. No, this cell machine can fold hundreds of dramatically different peptide chains into dramatically different proteins. And, as is the case with most cell machines, it does its job with a great deal of accuracy. Whenever I learn about structures like these, I can't help but think, "Whoa. God is really cool and smart."

This information about GroEL-GroES only raises more questions for me (no surprise there). The biggest on my mind at the moment is whether or not there are chaperonins that fold molecules so that the hydrophobic regions are on the outside. Then they could act within the plasma membrane. Or maybe they have a hydrophilic region and a hydrophobic region, the former being anchored in the phosphate heads of the phospholipid bilayer and the latter chilling in the non-polar inner zone of the bilayer.