Criticism

We are a critical society.

In days gone by, we were entertained by stories of a widowed sheriff teaching his son a valuable lesson, or a young boy nicknamed "Beaver" figuring out how to solve some problem at school. The shows that first appeared on our television screens portrayed families that were a bit idealistic, perhaps, but at least they gave us wholesome examples to take to heart.

Now we are bombarded by reality TV. We gather around our television sets, just hoping to hear that "all-time worst audition." We laugh as a judge's harsh words crush someone's dreams. "How could she possibly think she was a good singer?" we ask. And these are just the talent competitions.

Then there are the shows like Survivor, the Bachelor, and Big Brother. Thousands of people tune in to very personal and intimate moments in the lives of complete strangers. We love to take sides. We choose our favorites and those contestants we hope get voted off. We find ourselves saying things like, "He is such a jerk!" or "I cannot believe she just did that!" Why do we enjoy finding fault in others?

I admit, I have fallen into the trap. I realized it last night while watching a rerun of America's Got Talent. I heard myself criticizing a few of the contestants in front of my boys. And suddenly it dawned on me that I am teaching them to find fault in others instead of pointing out the good in them.

It's hard to tell whether the TV shows are the cause or a symptom. I believe that if we constantly fill our minds with negativity, we will inevitably begin to think negatively. At the same time, I believe that those types of shows are being put in front of us quite simply because people like to watch them. We enjoy those programs that give us permission to freely express our critical spirits without feeling like we directly hurt someone. After all, they can't hear us when we say it.

Maybe they can't. But God can. And it grieves Him deeply when we say these hurtful things or think them in our hearts. He wants us to love each other, to "encourage each other and build each other up" (I Thessalonians 5:11).

I don't know why I am critical of other people. Does it make me a better singer because I say someone else needs to work on their pitch? Goodness, no! The idea that putting someone else down helps us feel better about ourselves is a lie used by Satan to turn our hearts against each other.

I am making a decision right now to stop being critical of other people. I kind of feel like I'm in a "Critics Anonymous" meeting right now... "My name is Amy and I'm a critical person." I admit it. And I'm going to deal with it. And I hope those of you who know me will hold me accountable.

Freedom

As I was driving the other day, surrounded by trees and farms and water, I was again reminded how blessed I am to be an American.

There is so much beauty to enjoy in our great country, and such a variety. Looking around, you can't help but marvel at the incredible gift of beauty God has given us to enjoy. Whether I'm watching the sunset cast a purple glow upon the Arizona mountains or paint vibrant streaks of red and orange in the Michigan sky above the lake, I am in awe of God's creative power.

I can't imagine living in a country where I was not allowed to raise my hands in praise of my Father, Who created all of this. Where I could not gather in fellowship with other believers to strengthen faith and friendships. Where I was told who or what to worship, serve, and obey. Where my life was prescribed for me with no hope of ever experiencing anything else.

I am grateful for the freedoms I have as an American citizen, and for the men and women who have given their lives or made other sacrifices to fight for those freedoms.

On the Fourth of July, we celebrated with a Pancake Breakfast at Youth Haven, fireworks at the lake, and then an overnight stay at my sister's house with more fireworks. My cousin spent the Fourth of July in Iraq, wearing a Military Police uniform, helping to protect those who can't protect themselves. Fighting for freedom, and in so doing, ensuring mine.

He is nineteen years old and has already seen horrific things. But he faithfully serves his country, knowing the price of freedom.

I think about what he is going through, and then I see visions of Jesus, scenes from The Passion of the Christ replaying in my mind. And I know that freedom sometimes costs everything.

I imagine the soldiers who fought in the many wars that have been waged over the years. I can hear them saying they fight for their wives, their sons and daughters. For their brothers, sisters, and countrymen.

Then I see Jesus, battered, bruised, and bloody, hanging on a cross. I hear him cry out, "Father, forgive them!" And I know he, too, was fighting for the freedom of his brothers and sisters. And not just freedom of worship or freedom of speech. Freedom from death.

In America, we celebrate our victories and the freedoms those victories have both brought about and preserved.

I am thankful for those who have fought, and still fight, for that great cause. I love America. I am grateful that God placed me here.

And I am thankful for a cross, a Savior, and an empty tomb. Victory over death! Freedom from the bondage of sin, shame, and yes, even fear.

Someday my boys will be 18, and they will have a choice to make. I hope God doesn't call them to the military. But if He does, I pray they will serve their country with all their hearts. I will send them off with tears and pride. Because to fight for freedom is to follow in the footsteps of Jesus.