God Hates Fruit Loops.

"God Hates _____________."

You've probably seen that blank filled before by an infamous group known as the Westboro Baptist Church, headed by Fred Phelps and the Phelps family. Just to clarify for the sake of the Baptist Church, (and because I was raised in a Baptist family) they are not associated with the church. In fact, they're not associated with any church in America. They claim that every other congregation in America--no scratch that--in the world is hell-bound and God-hating sinners minus their roughly one hundred church members.

I'll be the first to admit, according to Scripture, many people in church congregations (while professing Christianity, aren't really practicing what they're preaching) are hell-bound. After all, Jesus said (see Matthew 7:13) few will go through the narrow gate and broad is the way to destruction. And they're telling truth when they say we're all sinners. But I don't take issue with those two claims. Those aren't radical claims for so-called Christians to make. It's the "God Hates" part that really bothers me the most.

Do they understand the power in those words?

The Creator of man and all things--past, present and future--hates. Not only does He hate but He hates any group of people that the Westboro Baptist Church decides that He must hate.

And that message has gotten these people some serious face time. They're all over social media, network news, newspapers, radio shows and outside the funerals of dead soldiers (proclaiming "Thank God" that they're dead) and anyone relatively famous or well-known who might get them airtime on television or radio.

That's why they recently exchanged an hour of airtime on 'The Mike Gallagher Show' for a promise they wouldn't picket the poor death of an 9 year old girl named Christina Taylor-Green in Arizona who was shot to death--for "our sins," they claimed. I listened to that show that day and I listened to them laugh and joke and tell that God hates, while a little girls family was somewhere in Arizona heart broken. How dare they do this to a family. Claim their daughter, their cousin, their child.....they supposedly died because of us and for our sins. That some how God hated her and hates us and this is some sort of warning shot.

If we want to get biblical, yes--God's wrath is in the Bible. I've read, you've read it, we've all read it.

But it's not the answer to every situation. I remember when 9/11 happened and Jerry Falwell said:

"I really believe that the pagans, and the abortionists, and the feminists, and the gays and the lesbians who are actively trying to make that an alternative lifestyle, the ACLU, People For the American Way, all of them who have tried to secularize America. I point the finger in their face and say 'you helped this happen.'"

Does God hate?

Does He hate us so much he's punishing us with things like 9/11?

Did God kill that 9 year old girl, like Westboro claims, for our sins?

No, no and no.

God hates conduct, He hates what we do. He hates our sin.

But He loves us.

God doesn't hate you, the gays, the self-righteous like the now deceased Jerry Falwell, He doesn't hate dogs over cats, cats over dogs, and He certainly doesn't hate my bowl of Fruit Loops.

And because of that, yes....God even loves Westboro Baptist Church.

Even if they hate all of mankind so much that they'd be willing to do as Robert F. Kennedy once said, "build their own lives from the shattered dreams of other human beings."

The answer is love.

It's February.

Shortest month of the year and the card companies dream. But for me February is personal.

Last year I wrote something that summed up why I'll never forget February. I read the words to Joel the other night with tears streaming down my face. Words that I remember writing with tears, just as I'm reading them now. Words that I'm the most proud of and words that came so naturally to me while I was writing them.

Those words were posted on Facebook on February 1st, 2010, the one year anniversary of my grandmothers passing:

My grandparents were deeply religious people.

In my living room hangs the Ten Commandment's that hung from their house. In my kitchen sits the Lord's Prayer that I remember from my childhood in their entertainment center at their farm.

My first memories of them were taking me to church and waking us up early on Sunday mornings, against our will, to bring us to church.

As I think about what God meant to their lives, and I think about the lives they lived for Him, I think of a piece of Scripture that surely will always remind me of my grand parents:

"For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain."
- Philippians 1:21

The hardest part of my grandmother's death one year ago today was the pain and suffering she must have felt. The anger I had with God for putting such a loving person through an ordeal like this. The suffering my grandfather was put through just so he could struggle on year after year to be with his wife until her death. It hurt me, and on January 31st, 2009...I sat in my room crying and screaming to Him. I told Him this is exactly why I had rejected Him for 20 years (I was 20 then) because even those who served Him, felt pain and suffering. I yelled to God that he was being unfair, unjust and cruel. I told Him if he loved me, if He loved her, he would stop this suffering and let her pass without struggle and without any more pain.

And for the first time, I felt the power of prayer. That night the pain stopped, the suffering ended. And she passed. That night as I was laying in my bed sobbing to myself, I found the Bible she bought me when I was 13 years old.

I still reflect on that to this day. What did it mean? I hadn't seen that Bible in years, and yet here it was. What about my prayer? God answered my prayer, even though I spent 20 years of my life rejecting Him and abandoning Him. He answered that prayer because He loved me, and He loved her. And there is no doubt in my mind where my grandmother (and my grandfather) are now.

He showed His love for me, even when I refused to show my love for Him. He loved me no matter what I did, how many times I failed Him and failed myself. He loved me even when I didn't love myself.

I now understand that love, and I'm trying my best to return it. Every night I pray. I sit down, put all the world's problems to the side, and I just pour out my emotions and ask for His guidance. And in return, He listens and helps me piece things together like a jig saw puzzle.

Out of all the gift's my grandparents gave me, it wasn't the trips to Branson every summer that mattered. Even though I'll always cherish the memories. It wasn't the Christmas presents, the family dinners they would host and cook for us, nor the Birthday money I'd receive every year in the mail (right on time and without fail) that mattered.

It was love. Love was all the mattered. The love they had for family, for friends, and for God.

Love never mattered to me. I didn't see the point in saying "I love you," I didn't see the need to return love with more love, and I didn't see that love is the only answer to the world's problems.

I see that now, I get it. I have much love for my family, friends, and for God. A year ago, I couldn't say I expressed that love very accurately and appropriately. Because while I was also rejecting and throwing God's love back in his face, I was doing that to my friends and family as well. And I regret that, cannot change that. But with experience, good or bad, comes wisdom. And today, I'm more wise. And more thankful. And well...loving.

To Carolene Wright, my grandmother...my friend...my loved one. I love you and I miss you.

These tears are for you. Not tears of pain, but tears of love.

I love you!

Love,
Jordon Jeffery Wright

"Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart, until, in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom... through the awful grace of God." - Aeschylus

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs." -1 Corinthians 13:4-5

I just want to close this by saying....Life is short. Very short.

Whether you're Christian or not, make the best of it. Don't be afraid of death at the end of your life.

As that old quote goes:

“One day your life will flash before your eyes. Make sure its worth watching.”

If you live with love, you will live with passion, and if you live with passion you won't be afraid of death.

Make your life count. It may be cliche but it's true. And while you're at it, take a page from my grand parents book. Make it count with love.

Because the answer is love. Beginning, middle, and yes....end.

Sincerely,
Jordon Jeffery Wright