this is an article i found on relevant magazine online. it addresses a lot of things i'm feeling right now. God used it to speak to me, for which i'm very thankful. check it out.
http://www.relevantmagazine.com/god/deeper-walk/blog/21596-remember-to-stop-forgetting
22.5.10
20.5.10
Sobras.
"Sobras" is Spanish for leftovers. Leftovers in Peru is a funny concept to me, and I'm still trying to grasp it. Here's a feeble attempt to explain to you what I've learned/observed so far.
I'll start with how leftovers became a popular topic in my house. When Marta lived with me in January, I was a cooking maniac (I think because I had someone to cook for). I wanted to make spaghetti, and I thought I would just use some meat that had been frozen for...some time. I can't even tell you how long. It was a long time.
"Por que no botes eso?"
Marta repeatedly told me to throw it out, that it had gone bad. But in my stubbornness, I kept it in the freezer, thinking I would use it "soon."
Well, Spaghetti Day finally rolls around and I take out the ancient meat and sure 'nuff, it was disgusting. I even thought for a moment that I could salvage it, but that would have been unkind to my Peruanita's estomago.
Soon after this incident (in which Marta reminded me over and over that she was right about the meat), I continued on my cooking tirade and made a ton of every dish I created. I mean, ridiculous amounts of food. I don't know why I have this tendency to cook more than is needed, but I do. I should work on that, especially as I continue to cook for one (pause with me as I lament this sad fact).
I made beef stew, chicken and potatoes, and all sorts of other things. We even invited other people to come over and eat. Alas, leftovers became my middle name. Marta ate them with me out of kindness, or perhaps pity...
...Until one day I pulled something out of the fridge that had been there about five days. Here's my theory: If it still smells good and looks good, then it probably tastes good and is not going to kill you.
Marta, however, looked at me in shock, asked me how long whatever-it-was had been sitting there, and refused to eat it after I revealed the horrific number.
She proceeded to tell me about Peruvian dislike of leftovers. As her papi says: "Voy a comer para que no se malogre."
Translation: "I'm going to eat everything because I'm a good poor man and don't want any of it to go to waste."
That's legitimate. I will say that in my North American Leftover Hell, I do throw away a lot of food.
Here's something to take into account though: Peruvians won't eat "old" food (a day or two) that has been stored properly in the refrigerator, but they'll leave all of it sitting out for a day on the stove/counter. Hmm.....
My Peruanos probably think I'm crazy. I feed them all the food I've prepared, but some of it is old. Here, if you give someone your leftovers of anything (basically anything you don't want anymore that you've half-used), that can be an insult.
I suppose then the multiple times I've asked some guy friends to come "clean out the fridge," they've been semi-offended as they stuff their faces with my perfectly fine leftovers.
At least this cultural difference brings a lot of laughs: Now when I offer Marta and other friends some food, they usually laugh and look at me like "how long has the gringa kept this food around?"
I tell them a lower number of days than is true, throw the food on a microwave-safe plate, type in a minute or two, and press "ON."
I'll start with how leftovers became a popular topic in my house. When Marta lived with me in January, I was a cooking maniac (I think because I had someone to cook for). I wanted to make spaghetti, and I thought I would just use some meat that had been frozen for...some time. I can't even tell you how long. It was a long time.
"Por que no botes eso?"
Marta repeatedly told me to throw it out, that it had gone bad. But in my stubbornness, I kept it in the freezer, thinking I would use it "soon."
Well, Spaghetti Day finally rolls around and I take out the ancient meat and sure 'nuff, it was disgusting. I even thought for a moment that I could salvage it, but that would have been unkind to my Peruanita's estomago.
Soon after this incident (in which Marta reminded me over and over that she was right about the meat), I continued on my cooking tirade and made a ton of every dish I created. I mean, ridiculous amounts of food. I don't know why I have this tendency to cook more than is needed, but I do. I should work on that, especially as I continue to cook for one (pause with me as I lament this sad fact).
I made beef stew, chicken and potatoes, and all sorts of other things. We even invited other people to come over and eat. Alas, leftovers became my middle name. Marta ate them with me out of kindness, or perhaps pity...
...Until one day I pulled something out of the fridge that had been there about five days. Here's my theory: If it still smells good and looks good, then it probably tastes good and is not going to kill you.
Marta, however, looked at me in shock, asked me how long whatever-it-was had been sitting there, and refused to eat it after I revealed the horrific number.
She proceeded to tell me about Peruvian dislike of leftovers. As her papi says: "Voy a comer para que no se malogre."
Translation: "I'm going to eat everything because I'm a good poor man and don't want any of it to go to waste."
That's legitimate. I will say that in my North American Leftover Hell, I do throw away a lot of food.
Here's something to take into account though: Peruvians won't eat "old" food (a day or two) that has been stored properly in the refrigerator, but they'll leave all of it sitting out for a day on the stove/counter. Hmm.....
My Peruanos probably think I'm crazy. I feed them all the food I've prepared, but some of it is old. Here, if you give someone your leftovers of anything (basically anything you don't want anymore that you've half-used), that can be an insult.
I suppose then the multiple times I've asked some guy friends to come "clean out the fridge," they've been semi-offended as they stuff their faces with my perfectly fine leftovers.
At least this cultural difference brings a lot of laughs: Now when I offer Marta and other friends some food, they usually laugh and look at me like "how long has the gringa kept this food around?"
I tell them a lower number of days than is true, throw the food on a microwave-safe plate, type in a minute or two, and press "ON."
13.5.10
my north and my south.
I'm headed home
Yeah, but I'm not so sure
That home is a place
That will ever be the same...
-Jon Foreman, "Southbound Train"
First, let me say that J.F. is a lyrical and poetical genius. I was listening to this song tonight, and I don't have much to say on it. I'll let it speak for itself.
I'm going back to Arequipa in a few days after a small and refreshing sabbatical in Lima. I then spend a couple months in the South before I head north: America.
Here we go. The countdown begins. There isn't a countdown to "what's next" still. Rather, the countdown begins on having to leave a new home for an old one.
I'm betting on not settling down quite yet. So for now, and during the upcoming transition time, my home is North and South.
6.5.10
Garden.
There's this song I like right now called "Garden" by Matt Maher. The main theme is that God is "making our heart a garden" like the Garden of Eden before the fall, where Adam and Eve walked and talked with God.
I like this idea of believer's hearts being a garden in which we commune with the Lord; however, I started to think a little more and found other imagery in the song. This idea of weeding and pruning and stirring up dirt and removing dead things ought to be profound for Christians. It is profound for me, at least. The gardener (God) fixes me up by taking the bad stuff out and planting things that are better--stuff like new flowers, healthy bulbs. They grow up out of this dirt that was sifted around--fallow ground moved about to make it a place where good things can grow beautiful.
I think that is what I need to stop and ponder in this time: My heart as a garden. There might be some weeds and other junk that need to come out. I'm being pruned right now (see John 15).
But the good news is that I have a good Gardener who has my best interest in mind. He might stir up the soil and jerk up some bad weeds, but He'll replace those things with new, good things. He knows what needs to be in there, and He does it according to His good timing in each season.
I like this idea of believer's hearts being a garden in which we commune with the Lord; however, I started to think a little more and found other imagery in the song. This idea of weeding and pruning and stirring up dirt and removing dead things ought to be profound for Christians. It is profound for me, at least. The gardener (God) fixes me up by taking the bad stuff out and planting things that are better--stuff like new flowers, healthy bulbs. They grow up out of this dirt that was sifted around--fallow ground moved about to make it a place where good things can grow beautiful.
I think that is what I need to stop and ponder in this time: My heart as a garden. There might be some weeds and other junk that need to come out. I'm being pruned right now (see John 15).
But the good news is that I have a good Gardener who has my best interest in mind. He might stir up the soil and jerk up some bad weeds, but He'll replace those things with new, good things. He knows what needs to be in there, and He does it according to His good timing in each season.
26.4.10
close your eyes and see.
There's a lot of questions floating around in my head. Do I really trust God? I say I do, but do I really allow Him to take control of my life? Do I believe God and and His promises? I want to be needed; how do I quench that desire in a selfless manner? Why don't I meet with the Lord every day? He's my first love. What is in my heart that in hindering me walking in victory with Christ, as He intends? How can I start to get the junk out of my life that is preventing an abundant life, lived to the glory of God?
As you can see, I'm being challenged. God is rocking my boat, big time.
On a positive note, in recent weeks, I've been given a few verses from Colossians that have helped the struggle surrounding my return to the US in about three months (still hard to say, but starting to roll off the tongue a little easier).
"And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him (ch. 3).
I'm preparing to work for the Lord wherever He takes me. It might be in a Lawrenceville, GA Starbucks. I will serve people their coffee in the name of Christ. Then, I'll bike home because I can't afford gas. ;)
"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving (ch. 3).
I've recently been struggling with some work-related stuff (PRAY over that, por favor). Anyway, I want to finish this time in Peru working with all of my heart, for God--not for any man. I think that God is using this experience to prepare me for future work/ministry situations.
"So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness (ch 2).
Finally, may the remembrance of my salvation and what Christ did for me on the Cross consume my mind and heart and motivate me to meet with Him every day. I am so weak, but He is strong. May He build me up in Him and strengthen the faith He placed in my heart so long ago. Would that I overflow with thankfulness.
In fact, I'm going to go ahead and claim it: I thank You in advance, Lord, for the changes that You're working in me as I get soaked in hard storms and parched in deserted valleys. They're for a reason. I see Your goodness and Your faithfulness in them. Thanks for that, God. Move in me for Your name.
I give you thanks for preparing me for changes that are coming. Would you replace my fear with a joy in moving forward and seeing what is next. Give me a motivation to be active in this time and seek out what You would have me do. In the name of Jesus, I thank You.
A 'post dato,' Lord...As I prep for America, perhaps the most important prayer I could send to the heavens: Help my dad and his clingy tendencies. He's already threatening to chain me to a post in the backyard. Forever.
As you can see, I'm being challenged. God is rocking my boat, big time.
On a positive note, in recent weeks, I've been given a few verses from Colossians that have helped the struggle surrounding my return to the US in about three months (still hard to say, but starting to roll off the tongue a little easier).
"And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him (ch. 3).
I'm preparing to work for the Lord wherever He takes me. It might be in a Lawrenceville, GA Starbucks. I will serve people their coffee in the name of Christ. Then, I'll bike home because I can't afford gas. ;)
"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men, since you know that you will receive an inheritance from the Lord as a reward. It is the Lord Christ you are serving (ch. 3).
I've recently been struggling with some work-related stuff (PRAY over that, por favor). Anyway, I want to finish this time in Peru working with all of my heart, for God--not for any man. I think that God is using this experience to prepare me for future work/ministry situations.
"So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness (ch 2).
Finally, may the remembrance of my salvation and what Christ did for me on the Cross consume my mind and heart and motivate me to meet with Him every day. I am so weak, but He is strong. May He build me up in Him and strengthen the faith He placed in my heart so long ago. Would that I overflow with thankfulness.
In fact, I'm going to go ahead and claim it: I thank You in advance, Lord, for the changes that You're working in me as I get soaked in hard storms and parched in deserted valleys. They're for a reason. I see Your goodness and Your faithfulness in them. Thanks for that, God. Move in me for Your name.
I give you thanks for preparing me for changes that are coming. Would you replace my fear with a joy in moving forward and seeing what is next. Give me a motivation to be active in this time and seek out what You would have me do. In the name of Jesus, I thank You.
A 'post dato,' Lord...As I prep for America, perhaps the most important prayer I could send to the heavens: Help my dad and his clingy tendencies. He's already threatening to chain me to a post in the backyard. Forever.
3.4.10
time is relative.
Living in a Latin American country has its perks, its negatives, and its learning curves. I offer up to the blog world a couple ideas and some funny experiences I've had while living in Peru concerning TIME.
Time. Hours. Minutes. Seconds. Days. Weeks. Months. Our time is precious and valuable, and growing up in the United States, I was taught that being on time is important. Since coming to Peru, my being-on-time obsession has lessened, and the idea of time has become somewhat of an anomaly. I no longer wear a watch. I've become really Peruvian in saying I'll be somewhere at 3:30, but I don't show up until 4 (still only to wait 30 more minutes on the Peruvian). Church starts at 11 am, which means it's okay to stroll in around 11:19 or later--it may have started by then, but probably not. Class starts at 7 pm, but people still walk in at 8, 15 minutes before it's over.
There are certain words in Spanish to indicate when something is happening. Some examples are "ahora," "un rato," "un toque," "un minuto," etc. We have some derivatives that come from these words as well. Let me explain.
I was recently in Lima and ran into my friend Ernesto. We chat and say we're going to catch up later, after he's done with work at 8 pm. I send him a text message about an hour later (approximately 3 pm) that says "Ernesto, call me later so that we can figure out what we are going to do." The text I receive in response reads in Spanish something along the lines of "Claro, podemos hacer algo AHORA" (gringa translation: "Sure, we can do something NOW."). I, the silly gringa, call Ernesto (aka Ernie ;) and comment that I thought he was still working.
"Si, estoy trabajando." (Yeah, I'm working.)
"Ah ya....entonces hablamos mas tarde." (Ok, then, we'll talk later.)
"Ok, ciao."
Hmm....
Later that evening we get together and I ask about this "ahora" business. How is "ahora" ("now") also later? Big question, one that opens a door for a HUGE discussion on vocabulary, context, and meaning. Here are my findings:
Ahora: "Now," as in a time period over the next 12-24 hours. Or in Daniel's case, 20 days when referring to his birthday. :)
Ahorita: Also "now" (perhaps even "right now"), as in the time period over the next 2-12 hours. (Marta ALWAYS says she is leaving "ahorita." After about seven times hearing this and counting the hours that define her "ahorita " [usually 1-2], I finally started to catch on that her "ahorita" is very different from my "ahorita.")
Ahorititita: Yet again, "now." Except given the amount of "tita's" tacked on the end, this could mean any number of definitions of now. Right now in a second, in a minute, in five minutes, in 30 minutes. Who knows.
Within this word group used to define a period of time, you have the same type of guidelines with the following (once again, context and person saying these words make the meaning):
Rato, ratito: Any given time; a little time.
Toque, toquecito: Even less than "rato" or "ratito." Literally, a little touch, a little time.
Un minuto, minutito: I can't even tell you how many times "Espera un minuto" (wait a minute) has turned into an hour.
Finally, we have another interesting thing happening in Latin America. I have yet to really figure out when "good day," "good afternoon," and "good evening" begin and end. In my very North American mind, morning ends at lunchtime, if not before. The afternoon begins around lunchtime and continues until 6 pm or so, and the evening commences at this time (we'll say sundown-ish) until you're partying late into the night.
Not so in Peru. Let's address this idea of "Buenos dias," Buenas tardes," and "Buenas noches." Here's a typical week with my watcheman (pronounced "watch.e.man," which the long "e" sound in the middle :) as I'm walking in and out of the neighborhood:
Sunday, 11 am. "Buenos dias, senorita." Fine.
Monday, 11 am. "Buenos dias, senorita." Monday, 3 pm. "Buenas tardes, senorita." Fine.
Tuesday, 3 pm. "Buenos dias, senorita." Huh?
Wednesday, 5 pm. "Buenas tardes, senorita." Same day, 8 pm. "Buenas noches, senorita." Okay.
Thursday, 5 pm. "Buenas noches, senorita." Oh my gosh...
I could go on, but you see what I'm getting at. There is no definition, and I'm just plum confused. Even after a year-and-a-half. I mean, sure, I hold to what I'm thinking is the "proper" separation of time. And I obviously respond in whatever manner they want me to out of cultural respect (I may be confused, but I have learned to not try and change the norm here based solely on my confusion). The thing is, we just need to get some continuity going on here in my opinion. I've now just gotten into the habit of saying "Buenas." Punto. No mas. I don't know what time it is, nor do they, so we'll just go with the generic greeting. Plus, it makes more sense to just go with the flow instead of laughing at the woman at the bank who has now just said "Buenos dias" to me at 4 pm. Maybe she's just tired after a hard day's work.
Time. Hours. Minutes. Seconds. Days. Weeks. Months. Our time is precious and valuable, and growing up in the United States, I was taught that being on time is important. Since coming to Peru, my being-on-time obsession has lessened, and the idea of time has become somewhat of an anomaly. I no longer wear a watch. I've become really Peruvian in saying I'll be somewhere at 3:30, but I don't show up until 4 (still only to wait 30 more minutes on the Peruvian). Church starts at 11 am, which means it's okay to stroll in around 11:19 or later--it may have started by then, but probably not. Class starts at 7 pm, but people still walk in at 8, 15 minutes before it's over.
There are certain words in Spanish to indicate when something is happening. Some examples are "ahora," "un rato," "un toque," "un minuto," etc. We have some derivatives that come from these words as well. Let me explain.
I was recently in Lima and ran into my friend Ernesto. We chat and say we're going to catch up later, after he's done with work at 8 pm. I send him a text message about an hour later (approximately 3 pm) that says "Ernesto, call me later so that we can figure out what we are going to do." The text I receive in response reads in Spanish something along the lines of "Claro, podemos hacer algo AHORA" (gringa translation: "Sure, we can do something NOW."). I, the silly gringa, call Ernesto (aka Ernie ;) and comment that I thought he was still working.
"Si, estoy trabajando." (Yeah, I'm working.)
"Ah ya....entonces hablamos mas tarde." (Ok, then, we'll talk later.)
"Ok, ciao."
Hmm....
Later that evening we get together and I ask about this "ahora" business. How is "ahora" ("now") also later? Big question, one that opens a door for a HUGE discussion on vocabulary, context, and meaning. Here are my findings:
Ahora: "Now," as in a time period over the next 12-24 hours. Or in Daniel's case, 20 days when referring to his birthday. :)
Ahorita: Also "now" (perhaps even "right now"), as in the time period over the next 2-12 hours. (Marta ALWAYS says she is leaving "ahorita." After about seven times hearing this and counting the hours that define her "ahorita " [usually 1-2], I finally started to catch on that her "ahorita" is very different from my "ahorita.")
Ahorititita: Yet again, "now." Except given the amount of "tita's" tacked on the end, this could mean any number of definitions of now. Right now in a second, in a minute, in five minutes, in 30 minutes. Who knows.
Within this word group used to define a period of time, you have the same type of guidelines with the following (once again, context and person saying these words make the meaning):
Rato, ratito: Any given time; a little time.
Toque, toquecito: Even less than "rato" or "ratito." Literally, a little touch, a little time.
Un minuto, minutito: I can't even tell you how many times "Espera un minuto" (wait a minute) has turned into an hour.
Finally, we have another interesting thing happening in Latin America. I have yet to really figure out when "good day," "good afternoon," and "good evening" begin and end. In my very North American mind, morning ends at lunchtime, if not before. The afternoon begins around lunchtime and continues until 6 pm or so, and the evening commences at this time (we'll say sundown-ish) until you're partying late into the night.
Not so in Peru. Let's address this idea of "Buenos dias," Buenas tardes," and "Buenas noches." Here's a typical week with my watcheman (pronounced "watch.e.man," which the long "e" sound in the middle :) as I'm walking in and out of the neighborhood:
Sunday, 11 am. "Buenos dias, senorita." Fine.
Monday, 11 am. "Buenos dias, senorita." Monday, 3 pm. "Buenas tardes, senorita." Fine.
Tuesday, 3 pm. "Buenos dias, senorita." Huh?
Wednesday, 5 pm. "Buenas tardes, senorita." Same day, 8 pm. "Buenas noches, senorita." Okay.
Thursday, 5 pm. "Buenas noches, senorita." Oh my gosh...
I could go on, but you see what I'm getting at. There is no definition, and I'm just plum confused. Even after a year-and-a-half. I mean, sure, I hold to what I'm thinking is the "proper" separation of time. And I obviously respond in whatever manner they want me to out of cultural respect (I may be confused, but I have learned to not try and change the norm here based solely on my confusion). The thing is, we just need to get some continuity going on here in my opinion. I've now just gotten into the habit of saying "Buenas." Punto. No mas. I don't know what time it is, nor do they, so we'll just go with the generic greeting. Plus, it makes more sense to just go with the flow instead of laughing at the woman at the bank who has now just said "Buenos dias" to me at 4 pm. Maybe she's just tired after a hard day's work.
1.4.10
Pascua.
Today is Day 1 of the feriado (holiday) here. Semana Santa. Holy Thursday. Anticipation of Christ's hands and feet being beaten into a cross by hands that didn't understand who He was. A tomb being opened for Him; after suffering an excruciating death, He is lain on the ground, wrapped in cloth, without breath. We can't forget that.
But Resurrection Sunday is coming, a day in which Christians celebrate a risen Jesus Christ. It really ought to be a celebration, a party; Jesus is alive! Death came, but life overcomes, and Jesus is alive.
"...that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that He was buried, that He was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that He appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve.
-1 Corinthians 15:3-5
Last year I walked around Arequipa during this time and pondered the traditions that define this holiday. I was astounded at the idols, the images, the money being collected, the bells and fireworks going on, the processions, the people wearing crucifixes on their necks for three days only. It reminded me of the 18 years I was in bondage.
I forgot how it can be here, this "Holy" week. For some people, it's a time to cry and to mourn; for others, a time to party and to let themselves go with alcohol.
Today I wonder how I've contributed to the Kingdom in the last year. I'm not saying this in a manner of "works." I'm speaking from the perspective of a Follower of Christ who is called to speak the Good News: The Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Perhaps in a time that could be considered a crisis of faith, I've faltered in this. That's no excuse. May my life be a living sacrifice, regardless of how I might "feel." May my life speak and demonstrate what I believe. Am I a testament to the purpose of Christ's death and resurrection?...Am I living a life worthy of Jesus, being sanctified and becoming more like my Savior every day?
"By the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain.
-1 Corinthians 15:10a
These are questions to ask myself, to meditate on as I cry out to God to cleanse my heart.
I do hope Holy Week restores your faith, wherever you are. I'm praying it does mine. Let's remember that there is no mediator other than Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, the great I AM. Born of a virgin girl, not a saint; made man while still God; completely perfect, offering us eternal life...and we can't earn it. We can't pray enough, we can't be good enough, we can't live or die enough.
It's just faith in Jesus.
"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by [FAITH] the people of old received their commendation. By faith we understand that the universe was created by the Word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible.
-Hebrews 11:1-3
But Resurrection Sunday is coming, a day in which Christians celebrate a risen Jesus Christ. It really ought to be a celebration, a party; Jesus is alive! Death came, but life overcomes, and Jesus is alive.
"...that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the Scriptures, that He was buried, that He was raised on the third day in accordance with the Scriptures, and that He appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve.
-1 Corinthians 15:3-5
Last year I walked around Arequipa during this time and pondered the traditions that define this holiday. I was astounded at the idols, the images, the money being collected, the bells and fireworks going on, the processions, the people wearing crucifixes on their necks for three days only. It reminded me of the 18 years I was in bondage.
I forgot how it can be here, this "Holy" week. For some people, it's a time to cry and to mourn; for others, a time to party and to let themselves go with alcohol.
Today I wonder how I've contributed to the Kingdom in the last year. I'm not saying this in a manner of "works." I'm speaking from the perspective of a Follower of Christ who is called to speak the Good News: The Gospel of Jesus Christ.
Perhaps in a time that could be considered a crisis of faith, I've faltered in this. That's no excuse. May my life be a living sacrifice, regardless of how I might "feel." May my life speak and demonstrate what I believe. Am I a testament to the purpose of Christ's death and resurrection?...Am I living a life worthy of Jesus, being sanctified and becoming more like my Savior every day?
"By the grace of God I am what I am, and His grace toward me was not in vain.
-1 Corinthians 15:10a
These are questions to ask myself, to meditate on as I cry out to God to cleanse my heart.
I do hope Holy Week restores your faith, wherever you are. I'm praying it does mine. Let's remember that there is no mediator other than Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, the great I AM. Born of a virgin girl, not a saint; made man while still God; completely perfect, offering us eternal life...and we can't earn it. We can't pray enough, we can't be good enough, we can't live or die enough.
It's just faith in Jesus.
"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by [FAITH] the people of old received their commendation. By faith we understand that the universe was created by the Word of God, so that what is seen was not made out of things that are visible.
-Hebrews 11:1-3
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