Spiderman and the Divided House concept

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So, I just saw The Amazing Spiderman, and I must say, that was a pretty good movie. But, I started thinking about it, and I realized that there is an interesting lesson in it that has changed my view of life (besides making me feel unsafe when I'm in a room with my brother's pet lizard). Throughout the movie as Peter Parker is attempting to learn how to deal with his superpowers and how to defeat evil with them, the police are constantly chasing him. While it isn't uncommon for policemen to unknowingly chase the one person who will help them, this idea in itself is SO ridiculous. I mean seriously, the policemen can't even see how much good the superhero is doing ON THEIR SIDE; it's not like Peter Parker was killing innocent people or harming them in any way- he was catching crooks! There was even one point in the movie in which a policeman shot Spiderman in the leg, crippling him from being able to reach an urgent destination in time, which honestly made me very frustrated. But, I realized through my frustration, that we as Christians sadly do this too.
Think about it this way, we are the body of Christ, which means we are intended to work together.
1 Corinthians 12:12-14 states this so clearly, "Just as a body, though one, has many parts, but all its many parts form one body, so it is with Christ. For we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink.  Even so the body is not made up of one part, but of many."
All too often, we forget this and begin to antagonize the very people who are ON OUR SIDE. Satan is so clever, isn't he? Matthew 12:25 says, "Every kingdom divided against itself will be ruined, and every city or household divided against itself will not stand."
And the devil knows this perfectly well. So, what does he do; he gives us jealousy for each other, pride over each other, and selfish motives that cause us to fight and quarrel among ourselves. This is so ridiculous! If we are like the body of Christ, then that's basically like two hands punching each other. Ouch. That's really bad, isn't it?
So, what do we do about it?
Maybe the first thing to do is to put others before ourselves, especially in the Christian realm. It's no problem to put others before ourselves if the others are non-Christians; after all, we've been told to be cautious around them and show love to them as a witness for Christ.
Yes, that's all well and good, but when Jesus told us to love one another, he didn't say to "love one another when someone else is watching you", he said to "love one another" period. That means we're supposed to do it to EVERYONE, especially our teammates. So, even when we know people that might be hard to get along with, if they are a fellow believer in Christ, we're supposed to team up with them and pray for them. After all, we don't want to be like the policemen who attack the guy who's on their side; we want to love one another and work together as a single body.
Besides, do you really think you can do well without others around you to encourage you and hold you accountable? I sure can't. That's why God created a huge web of other believers for us to have fellowship with. In the end, it's amazing to know that you are surrounded by others who worship the same God and I hope that we as Christians can start to do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit so we can always protect our brothers and sisters and let them know that we are there to support them.

T-Swizzle's revelation

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Sometimes, I just shake my head in wonder when I see what type of people our country revere as role models. Take, for example, a young girl who moved to Nashville at age fourteen in pursuit of a musical career and produced her first album at the age of SIXTEEN. You know exactly who I'm talking about if you've ever had either of the two radio hits, "We are Never Ever Getting Back Together" or "I Knew You Were Trouble" stuck in your head for hours and hours, or even days and days (I hate it when that happens). In case you still haven't gotten the idea of which current pop star I'm describing, let me write her name for you in big letters: TAYLOR SWIFT ( or T-Swizzle, as I like to call her ) As with any pop icon, people seem to only have two opinions of her music-
The OTD (Obsessive T-Swizzle Disorder) person:
"OHMYGOSH. I love her music. It's so relateable to me and that one song (fills in blank with a T-Swizzle song) makes me cry every time I hear it. And then that other song (fills in blank with another T-Swizzle song) is SO amazing and I have (fills in blank with a THIRD T-Swizzle song) stuck in my head right now hahahahahahaha. Oh, and I LOVE her new album!"

and then there's the pessimistic "hipster", who's probably just hating to be different from everyone else. Or they just don't like her music- I'll take that response too...
"Ugh. The radio played We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together for the twenty-gaJILLIONTH time today. I hate that song. And did you hear Taylor Swift broke up with (fills in blank with T-Swizzle's most current ex)? She is such a player. I mean seriously, seventeen guys in one year. Who in their right mind could be so stupid? I'll bet she just wants to make another million dollars. Ha, like that one song (fills in blank with another T-Swizzle masterpiece). It's SO annoying."

In case you were wondering, I actually stand in the middle ground on this issue; I appreciate some of Taylor Swift's songs- she is a talented lyricist and composer. However, I can't say that her love life is admirable in any way.
Believe it or not, all of her songs actually have an interesting point to them. Well, not that interesting, because this concept can be seen in about every trending song nowadays. Here, I'll give you a few quotes from some of T-Swizzle's songs and see if you can figure out this common pattern:

"Hey you called me up again just to break me like a promise
So casually cruel in the name of being honest
I'm a crumbled up piece of paper lying here
Cause I remember it all all all too well."


"He's the reason for the teardrops on my guitar
The only thing that keeps me wishing on a wishing star
He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do."


"And I just want to tell you
It takes everything in me not to call you
And I wish I could run to you
And I hope you know that
Everytime I don’t,
I almost do, I almost do."


"Breakin' down and coming undone
It's a roller coaster kinda rush
And I never knew I could feel that much
And that's the way I loved you."


"When all you wanted was to be wanted
Wish you could go back and tell yourself what you know now."



Do you see it? It's that deep, deep desire to be wanted and loved. That hole that is in every one of our hearts. But, as we can see through Taylor Swift's endless stream of failed relationships, our desires cannot be satisfied by anything here on earth.

We get so trapped in lies; we believe that if we are just liked or even loved by someone, we will be happy. Desire can turn into desperation. It's a never-ending cycle. Basically every teenager I know is either a) in a relationship or not-relationship (you know, the mutual crushing on both sides that causes that awkward we're-an-item-but-not-really-dating messiness) b) wishing they were in a relationship c) recovering from a recent broken relationship.
I know what it's like to want to be liked and what it's like to constantly be dissatisfied with chasing after this false fulfillment, yet doing it all the same (obviously, T-Swizzle knows too- much more than I do)

Why doesn't anything on earth satisfy us? Well, a little while ago, one of my good friends presented a devotional for our school and he had some great ideas about this. He said, "we as humans have a God-given desire for perfection. So, when we try to fill that desire with the imperfect things of this world, we will never find true happiness."

Wow. What insight.

Philippians 4:19 goes even further. It says,
"And my God will meet all of your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus."

God meets ALL of your needs. Yes, it may seem outrageous to believe this NOW, but now isn't going to last nearly as long as the rest of your life. And the rest of your life is what will really be impacted by trusting in God. Even your life is insignificant in comparison to eternity;
"So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."
1 Corithians 4:18

Even when it seems so hard to be patient for God's timing and trusting him seems so difficult, we can always take hope that He has a spectacular plan for us, better than anything we could ever imagine.
Sometimes, when I fall back into worrying about stuff like this and I start having those awful teenage girl fears like,
"What if I never find someone?"
"What if I'm not good enough or pretty enough for anyone to like me?"
"What if I end up with the wrong person somehow?"
And so on and so on,
God just tells me,
"I've got this. I PROMISE. I've got this."

And he does. I hope you look past all of the romantic hoopla on Valentines Day and are reminded that God's got it all under control; seriously, he's got this.

Blue Switch: a short story

"There is no greater love than to lay down one's life for one's friends." John 15:13 (NLT) May we never forget those who have given the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom.  Our species has been in captivity for almost a hundred years now. That’s the folly of the human race. For almost as long as the world has been in existence, there has always been that one man, full of hunger for power and a thirst for greatness, superiority over his fellow beings. Now, it seems that someone has finally succeeded. The stories say that he came in the night, long ago, with a powerful army. In fact, the army was so huge, that no one could see it; all they could see was the blinding light of thousands upon thousands of lanterns. And that was the last light that they ever saw, because as they raised their arms in surrender to him, he drove them into these tunnels. That’s what I’ve heard they are, anyway. I don’t know where I am; I never have. All I’ve known, all I know, all I will never know, is darkness. I was born in this abyss, as were my parents and their parents. We pass down stories of a world of light and hope beyond the tunnel, where there is beauty as far as the eyes can see. Now, the only thing we can see is a glowing, blue switch in the center of the tunnels. Sometimes, I like to just gaze at it. It is the only thing I’ve ever seen other than the creeping shadows of the people around me- the only thing I will ever see. I want to get closer to it, but I can hear guards marching around it, and the blue light flickers every time one of them passes in front of it. Their boots stamp the ground; they hold heavy chains in their hands, dragging them across the floor, prepared to hit anyone who comes near it. Fear keeps us away. I stand there, watching the flickering shadows pass in front of the blue light.

“Hey.”

A voice right beside me makes me jump, but I instantly recognize my friend, Fyn.

“How do you always manage to sneak up on me?” I sigh, punching him lightly on the shoulder.

“It’s easy, Ora,” he replies in a joking tone. “You’re just slow.”

“And you’re just mean.”

He pauses. “Do you sometimes wonder what that blue switch does? What if it’s freedom?”

“Freedom?”

“From this, you know.”

I turn to look at him. His silhouette is so familiar to me- it’s all I can see of him. An outline of his oddly large ears and slightly messy hair. His tall, skinny figure. Sometimes, I wonder what he really looks like. Sometimes, I wonder what I look like, besides a blurry shadow in a mirror.

“Even if it was the switch to freedom, no one would ever switch it,” I tell him flatly. “There are all of the guards. If someone stepped anywhere close to that blue light, they would be pulverized.”

“Ever if they weren’t, there would still be the Guardian to deal with.” Fyn says quietly.

We are both silent. The Guardian is what our leader calls himself. Twice a day, he comes over an intercom system, speaking to us, reminding us of his love for us, his people, and his great want to protect us from the evil of the outside world. That’s why he keeps us in the dark, to protect us. His raspy, deep voice has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember; it often echoes in my dreams, and my nightmares. But, we still listen to the bi-daily intercom announcements. In fact, most of the adults I know that live here treat The Guardian like an idol. They constantly remind us how much he cares about his people. But, Fyn and I both have our doubts.

“How can darkness protect us?” Fyn whispers. “Just because we’re told that it does by him and by everyone around us doesn’t mean that it’s true.”

“There’s nothing we can do,” I tell him in a guarded tone. “So, now we should stop talking about it.”

Most of our conversations end this way. But this time, it doesn’t.

“No.” Fyn says. “That’s not true either. We can do something. I can. I will.”

I look at him, then I turn to look at the glowing blue light.

“No,” I whisper in reply.

“Yes,” he snaps back.

“Why would you risk your life just to flip that switch? What if they…kill you? Then what?”

“What if they do?” Fyn replies. “What if this isn’t about what happens to me, but what happens to everyone here? We’re all so lost; it’s not the darkness that is holding us captive; it’s fear. Everyone is so lost in their own fear that they forget there are others who are just as lost as they are. I want these people and the generations after them to live in light, not darkness. This isn’t about me.”

“Stop speaking empty words,” I tell him in a quiet voice. “You know perfectly well that you’re just trying to sound like you care. How could you when no one else does? In here, no one would ever risk themselves, unless they knew they were coming out alive so they could enjoy the results of their bravery for themselves. That’s the way it is. The hero only risks himself so he can create a better world for himself to live in; it is all about him.”

“Then he isn’t a hero,” Fyn replies. “If you excuse me, I actually have to go; I promised my parents I would be home in time for supper.”

He heads towards his family’s house, built in the tunnel only about a mile away from my home.

“You can’t be serious,” I tell him. “This was just an ensuing joke between us, this whole talk about the switch and all, wasn’t it?”

“If you don’t think I’m serious, then I don’t see how you know me at all, Ora. I thought you, of all people, would understand.”



Nighttime is my least favorite part of the day. The only way I can tell it is nighttime is because of the Guardian’s good night intercom speech. That is always the signal to all of us that we should start getting ready to sleep. Usually, I fall asleep almost instantly after he finishes his ending remarks, but tonight, I sit on the edge of my bed, staring through my window at the blue light. It is so close to our house, my whole room is illuminated by it. The flickering shadows pass in the same, systematic patterns over and over again. Stomp. Stomp. Stomp. I can hear their heavy feet. Clash. Clash. Clash. I can hear the chains dragging across the floor. The rhythm is almost hypnotizing. Suddenly, the rhythm breaks. Someone is yelling. Others join in. A crash. Someone screaming. A jarring gunshot. It all happens within seconds. Then, the most frightening but wonderful moment of my life. A flood. A bright flood. Burning in through my windows. I fall to the floor on my knees, my eyes burning, dizziness causing me to feel nauseous. I squint, clutching at my head, crying out in pain. Hours pass. My eyes are slowly adjusting to this. Colors. I can see colors! I examine my hands, covered with tiny lines and nails. So this is what my hands looked like this whole time; I could feel them, but I never knew what color they were, or what they looked like. I run to a mirror. My eyes! They are a dark, rich color with such precise detail and lines within them. And they can see more then they’ve ever seen now. I slowly step towards my door and open it. The silence is overwhelming. People all around are slowly emerging into the light, looking at their surroundings with awe. We are all gathering in the center of the tunnel slowly. Suddenly, a man rushes through the crowd.

“Everyone! Back in your houses.”

My stomach somersaults. His voice is unmistakable; it is The Guardian. But as he wades through the crowd, I see a scrawy old man, hobbling along with the assistance of a long wooden cane in one hand. He is holding a pistol in the other hand. Two middle-aged men, both of them at least a foot taller than The Guardian grab him by the arms and throw him to the ground.

We don’t respect him anymore. Everyone suddenly notices each other. They are enthralled as they finally see each other clearly. Parents are kneeling in front of their children, gazing into their eyes for the first time. But, I’m thinking about something else. The guards. Fyn. I look around for the blue switch. I finally find it, faintly pulsing about the bright light, mounted to a tall pole. It is switched on. Below it, there are several speakers playing recordings of marching guards and dragging chains. A circular machine with guard-shaped boards mounted on it spins around the pole. There were no guards. But then, I remember the gunshot and the pistol The Guardian had been holding.

“Fyn.” I whisper.

I step past the machine that is still spinning around monotonously and stand right beside the pole. Underneath the switch, I see the body of a boy. His slightly messy hair is the same rich shade of my eyes. His ears are just as conspicuous and strange as I remember from seeing him as a shadowy silhouette. He is smiling. But, most of all, I notice his eyes. Their color. Although I don’t know the names of many colors, I know what this one is called. It’s beautiful and indescribable, but utterly recognizable. They are blue.

His voice echoes in my head still, “It’s not about me.”

Most people don’t notice him. They forget to remember the boy who saved all of them from the perilous darkness; they just continue on with their lives, accepting the free gift of freedom they’ve received, adapting rapidly to the light and slowly becoming so accustomed to it that they become indifferent to it, numb to its beauty and hope. But, I don’t forget. I never will.