I Ain’t No Cookie Cutter Christian!

I Ain’t No Cookie Cutter Christian!

Written By: Dave DeRose

Just because I make mistakes and say stupid things sometimes doesn't mean I don't take my faith seriously. To what standard am I being held? I am a flawed being; we all are. I have the same struggles everyone has: desiring material things, jealousy, pride and anger, even rage, especially road rage, if I'm honest. Sometimes I win my battles against these vices, and sometimes I lose. They didn't go away when I was baptized either. We are all susceptible to sin. When I do mess up, I know God's grace will blanket me as long as I confess my failings to God and ask for His unending forgiveness. In admitting them to Him, He has revealed a paths for me to improve myself. This has not always been pleasant, but most importantly, it isn't immediate. I am a constant construction site; hard hat required. That is why I am blessed to have good Christian friends who support my self-improvement, without which this would be a lonely journey. Steel sharpens steel.  

Since going public with my faith, I have become highly sensitive to the perception of others towards me and my faith. There exists a standard, and, I would go as far to say, it's an unrealistic one--a preconceived notion for who I should be and how I should act. But I am no cookie cutter Christian. Truth be told, there is no "right" way to be a Christian. Being a Christian means acknowledging flaws, trying to work on them, praying about them, but ultimately being thankful that Jesus forgives, accepts, and loves me even with all my flaws. God is gracious.

So next time I mess up, please don't call me a "bad Christian" or suggest that my faith is fake. Know that I take God seriously. I'm striving to be more Christ-like, but I know there are so many ways--too many to count--where I fall short. There was only one perfect human who has ever walked this earth, Jesus. As much as I'd like to be like Him, by nature I'm not. No human can. And that's okay. 

I don't want to live behind a curtain of false impressions either. I could put on a fake face in public and act as a "perfect" Christian, which would be disingenuous. I desire to be real with people. I feel there is a major problem with many of us Christians: creating a facade that seems unrealistic and usually is. People aren't stupid; they know we're not as perfect as we are pretending to be. Being fake and putting on a "Christian" show pushes people away. Away from God. The time for owning ourselves on this has come.

We need a revolution of thought, where people accept themselves, especially their shortcomings, and realize that imperfection is the norm. Let's not be afraid to be flawed. We are all messed up. All we can do is read the Bible, pray, work to improve ourselves, and rest in the God of restoration. It is okay not to be perfect, but we must strive to improve. It is comforting to know that God works on us. If we abide in Him and keep our hearts open, He makes necessary paths clear when we are ready to walk them.  

There is no one way to be a Christian-- we are all walking down different paths to realize the same goal: to understand who it is God means for us to be. We all have struggles, and pretending like they don't exist is deceiving. We must be more genuine, accurate, and honest. Let's show how God's restorative grace actually works in an authentic and open way. Truth is, we are all messed up, and believing in God doesn't fix us and make us without faults. What building a relationship with Jesus does do is open the construction site within us. So I ask you, please accept me as I am and always will be, God’s work in progress. And pray for me, He has extensive work left to do.

Dear Nanna

Dear Nanna,

So much has happened since we last spoke. I graduated high school and went to Nebraska for college. I studied education, like mom, and had many life changing experiences. After college I moved back home and found a job teaching middle school in Cherry Creek. Becoming an adult has had its ups and downs: the freedom of finally being on my own mixed with figuring out bills, budgets, and breakups (I’ve had more of those than I would like to admit).

Erin got married to Eric and last year had a son. They named him Paul, after dad. He is so stinkin’ cute. His laughter and movement around the house ignite something new in the family. He is a happy boy. You should see mom with him: they are best buds. You and I know how that is. The family is closer than ever. Dad is happier than I have ever seen. He and Paul giggle, make funny noises, and wrestle. Erin is an incredible mom - no surprise there. She had years of practice trying to “mother” me. She is loving and caring and is instilling in little Paul the same values you taught us growing up.

I found God last year and was baptized in May.  Since then, I’ve had supreme highs and devastating lows. I have realized many of my strengths and weaknesses. Now I can finally say I feel like I know where I am going in life, and it is a great feeling.

I saw a video about the relationship between a grandmother and grandson through different seasons of life today that made me think of you. It reminded me of all of our adventures. Going to the park when I was young. Home cooked meals; I feel like I grew up in an all-you-can-eat-buffet. Your thrifty shopping at Kohl’s (using a coupon, during the early bird, and your senior citizen discount day). You taking my football pants to me when I forgot them and yelling, “I have your training pants!” As a teenager, driving to your doctor’s appointments in the Volvo. That got me thinking of your personality. Your witty jokes. Your immaculate handwriting. Your love, loyalty, and trust. The look in your eye when I disappointed you. Even when I was over six feet tall and 200 pounds, I was still intimidated by you. But your warm hugs could heal any pain with love taps, your special mid-hug pats on the back.

I still remember that day. The day Dad came into my room. The look on his face as he told me not to come downstairs. Confused, I bounced out of bed. Looking down from the top of the stairs at the exact moment the EMTs wheeled you out. Falling to my knees crying. Being with you at the hospital. Checking through the doors to the ICU. The sounds of the equipment. Reading that book to you for seven days. How they took you off life support and only gave you thirty minutes to live, but you made it through that whole night and the next day. How I wasn’t there when you took your last breath. The panic I felt when Dad told me that you passed. I wanted to run red lights to get to you faster. I remember the sound of the highway underneath the tires. When I finally got to see you, you looked so beautiful. Peaceful. And I was so thankful for that.

I could never begin to express what you mean to me. How you impacted my life. You were my rock, my everyday constant variable, and it’s been hard without you. Sometimes I get mad, other times sad. But I’m always grateful. I am grateful because the older I get, the more I realize how blessed I was to have you in my life. Lessons you taught me shape my actions, mold my future, and enhance my experiences. I will live a life that will make you proud. I will make sure all of your hard work was not in vain. I look forward to the day we can speak again with all my heart. Until then, I miss you Margaret Virginia Peterson, my MVP.

With Love,

Your Prince, David

Pictures I Took