I'm dropped my dance minor. Because I was pursuing it over Christ, because it was an idol in my life, because it fed my pride. Because the Holy Spirit convicted me to, and convinced me to (which, I assure you, took some doing). Because God is working good through lame human Madeline. 

I pray that he will purify my mind of false dance desires and put within me good dance desires which are pleasing to him. 

Ezekiel 36:25b-27

"I will cleanse you from all your impurities and from all your idols. I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you, I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put my Spirit in you and move you to follow my decrees and be careful to keep my laws."

That is my prayer, for my lame, stubborn, prideful self. My self which, thankfully, is covered by grace. Thank you, God. 

(this is me not commenting on how long it's been since I posted. okay. glad we had that talk.)

I've been at kamp! And kamp is wonderful. And God convicted me of something at kamp that I'm going to share with you. Because sharing obedience is a way to fellowship with other believers. (see the next post for that:)

But speaking of fellowship, here is today's Sabbath Pondering: I am tired of believers' fellowship being getting together, eating, and being cordial to each other because we aren't similar but talking anyway because we're members of a church and that's what we're supposed to do. I think believers' fellowship is, as my dear friend Mary, a missionary for 34 years in Japan, said, "talking about Christ." That's what she missed about Japan, that in Japan, people would *passionate old person voice* "talk about Christ. Here in America, we do not talk about Christ." She said this when I was at lunch with her; I had asked her to lunch because I wanted to hear the heart of someone extraordinary enough to spend so many years in Japan for Jesus. "I will talk to you about Christ!!" I wanted to say, "anytime! I love to talk about Him! I think that's what we are supposed to do!" The Church would look more like Christ if He were the subject of our conversations. I also think those "I'm going to this because I'm supposed to even though my relationships there are awkward and forced" church functions would be so much better because our  conversations would be rich and full, and the awkwardness and forcedness would be, if not less (I think it would be less!), at least more purposeful. It's often so much easier to love people when we knows their hearts, and it's the people we don't understand who are hard to love. So let's talk about Christ when we fellowship.
...she powerfully concluded, then went on writing, knowing that she herself was also guilty of not trying to talk about Christ and not being vulnerable, hoping the very writing of it would convict it in herself.

I just deleted my Instagram account.
Deleted, like, forever.
It makes me kinda sad! I had lots of happy things on it, lots of things I loved, and now all of it is gone forever!
Well, that's not true. Because Instagram was not the real thing. It may have been keeping the memory alive in a way that people could look at it if they went to my profile, but the memory would have been saved in the picture whether I posted it or not, and the experience would have been experienced whether I captured it in a picture or not. See, my personal hypotheses that "instagram is a fake world" and therefore you do not have to follow people back if you don't want to convicted me (well, the Holy Spirit convicted me) that Instagram, a fake world, does not need such a hold on my real world. So now it's gone. Bye.
To be honest, I kind of miss it! (wow, self. come on. it's been like two minutes). But here's the thing. Now people can't randomly insta-stalk me for pics of my life. Now I don't have a forum for feedback on how awesome I can make my life look in a square on a screen. Now my phone will not be half so entertaining, because I know myself too well to get a twitter and I don't have any other social networks I use regularly. Now people will ask my why I got rid of my instagram, and I'll have to tell them that the Holy Spirit convicted me that it was something that needed to happen. That a social network was too big a deal for me and was skewing how I looked at people and I needed to delete it. But now it's gone, and that's good. Because, the Holy Spirit reminded me, if I kept it when I knew I should delete it, nothing I posted on it in the future could be purely and fully glorifying to Him. If it needed to be gone, then it needed to be gone, and I needed to let it go.
And now it's gone. Let's go live some now. Let's have a picnic and not worry about standing on my tip toes over the blanket to get the perfect picture of the perfect moment. Let me call a friend on their birthday instead of posting a picture or write them a letter or give them a donut. Let me show people my heart in real life so they don't know more about who I am from reading my tender captions and seeing how often I post about certain things than they know about me from actually being around me.
I know that Instagram is not a sin, but you'd have a hard time convincing me that it doesn't have a detrimental affect on our minds. Mostly because it's hurt me and how I look at people, and if I want to look and instantly love, I don't need to have preconceptions about numbers of followers or misconceptions about who people know. I needed to get rid of mine. I've tried before to just follow fewer people or have it on my phone less often, but this time I needed to delete it.
bye, fake, virtual profile.
I hope I love people better because of this. bye.
Also, I'll probably get stuck up because I deleted my Instagram. Because that's my sin nature, taking an act of begrudging obedience and turning it into a glorying martyrdom. [a virtual world. come on, self.] That's me, so I'm warning you. If I tell you about it, please say something to keep me humble. Like "oh." or "that's a pathetic struggle and if you have to do something like that to defeat it, whatever. I'm over here literally carrying a cross and Instagram is nothing to me. come on, maddieperkie. pick it up." Not because that's an appropriate attitude to have towards someone's struggle (at all), but because I need to not be praised, be the opposite of praised, because I'll probably be praising myself enough. Pride is dumb and I suggest avoiding it. As well as, possibly, avoiding Instagram.