This week I prayed for one who had taken her life. I do not know her name. I do not know her story. Questions fly. Why? How could she? Didn't she know? I could only bow my head to pray. For her hurting family. For her children.
I don't know her story.
But like so many others, I may know part of her pain. Hopelessness. Fear. Anxiety. Depression. Emotions so heavy and real. And so separate from any particular circumstance or event. They just are.
Early this morning in the quiet pre-dawn, fear hung over me like a too-small cloak, choking off my air supply. There wasn't a name for this fear, a cause. It just was. Maybe that is why it is so fearsome. When you can name something, you have a handle for it. When it is simply a sense of dread, running thick over you... clinging, its very elusiveness terrifies.
Who to call when you can't put a name to things? Pride moves in right alongside the terror, whispering lies. If I tell someone, they just won't get it. Who to tell that won't hide quiet disdain? Who to tell that won't give well-meaning but unproductive advice? That's what fear and pride do...get you all alone. They create a space where they can grow bigger and bigger.
This morning fear hung over me like a too-small cloak. But I pried a corner of the cloak away as I sat down to journal my thoughts to a God who seemed very distant and completely removed. My view of Him was all but gone, the giants of fear and pride looming large right in front of me. Yet, I pulled the corner of the cloak as I sat down to communicate with a God I couldn't feel in that moment.
I poured out my questions and thoughts. I cried tears of helplessness. Why can't I just pray this away? Why do I fight this all-encompassing battle with anxiety over and over and over again? If I was a better Christian. If I was a better person. If I did more. If I did less. If. If. If. Crying out to my Abba-Daddy, lump in my throat, hands clutching my pen and journal.
Spent, I opened my Bible app on my phone, and the verse of the day jumped out at me as if it was in neon flashing lights.
1 Peter 5: 8-9
Stay alert! Watch out for your great enemy, the devil. He prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Stand firm against him, and be strong in your faith. Remember that your Christian brothers and sisters all over the world are going through the same kind of suffering you are.
Feeling like the too-tight cloak had slipped off one shoulder and breath was coming a little easier, I opened to my readings for the day.
In the Old Testament, I was revisiting Elijah in 1 Kings 19. But that living and active Word meant something different to me today then all the other times I had read it. Elijah, after receiving God's amazing provision and revelation was now running scared from the evil Jezebel. I must sheepishly admit in the past when I've read this account, I've thought to myself, "Elijah! Seriously! God has shown you how He can provide and yet you are going to run scared from this woman?" Today, this thought didn't enter my mind. I was in a place of understanding fear. Of not being able to see past the looming shadow of fear. Today as I read, I was instead floored by the compassion God showed Elijah.
After running all day, Elijah sets down under a tree and prays to die.
Oh how my heart aches for this man. I feel his hopelessness and fear and the dropping to the knees and the crying "just take me!"
And he sleeps. And he is twice woken by an angel who urges him to eat and drink both times, preparing him for a journey. A Father meeting His child's physical needs.
He journeys to Mount Sinai, somehow sustained by this food and drink, though it is a forty day trip. When he gets there, he cries out to the Lord, telling Him why he has run. He cries out his fear. He cries out the unfairness of serving the Lord and yet meeting the fate Jezebel would mete out to him.
The Lord's response always brings tears to my eyes, especially today as God met me there in my need.
1 Kings 19: 11-13
"Go out and stand before me on the mountain," the Lord told him. And as Elijah stood there, the Lord passed by, and a mighty windstorm hit the mountain. It was such a terrible blast that the rocks were torn loose, but the Lord was not in the wind. After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake. And after the earthquake there was a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire. And after the fire there was the sound of a gentle whisper. When Elijah heard it, he wrapped his face in his cloak and went out and stood at the entrance to the cave.
I imagine the God of the universe, the Creator of the universe, revealing Himself to a scared man. And I imagine Him revealing Himself in a gentle whisper. A Father meeting His child's heart needs. And I cry tears turned to joy because He is mighty. But He is gentle. He is my Father. And I am His child. He is patient. And kind. He cares. And I cry just because I needed to know that today.
Though I can share the words that I spoke this morning. And I can share the passages in His Word He spoke soft over me, I don't know that I can convey the feeling of His presence. How I felt. Helpless down on my knees, worn and weary. But met by God. In that place of need. He spoke so tangibly to me.
And I am grateful. The cloak slipped off my shoulders, and I'm now breathing in full, sweet gulps of life-giving air. I am clothed, not by ill-fitting cloaks never meant for me to wear, but instead I am covered by my Father's hand. The fear and pride simply shadows in the background overshadowed by the shelter of my Father's wing.
I don't know the story of the woman who took her life. I don't know her exact pain. Why she felt helpless. Maybe her pain didn't have a name either, it just loomed big and heavy and fearsome, breathing hot and unrelenting on her neck. Maybe she was simply so tired and worn, one more day didn't seem possible. But I pray for her. And I pray for her family. And I pray for my Brothers and Sisters out in this world who face fear and helplessness and hopelessness. I pray for them to find the shelter of God Most High. That they would feel, instead of the shadows of fear and death, the shadow of His wing.
Monday, June 17, 2013
Monday, June 10, 2013
Things No One Ever Told Me... or "Confessions of a Thirtysomething Former Know-it-all"
No one ever told me that the realization that I was now the adult in charge could bring terror, not the jubilation I always imagined.
They also didn't tell me that I could hand the reigns over to my Father because I was still His child.
No one ever told me that you don't outgrow fear. The monsters lurking just take on a different form is all.
They also didn't tell me that in these shadows, I would learn to lean on God the most.
No one ever told me that love is often a choice you make, not an emotion you feel.
They also didn't tell me that the love would be even sweeter for the choice made.
No one ever told me that the pink and blue bundles of joy placed into my hands would one day bear wounds from their mama's tongue. That my inadequacies, faults and sin would loom ugly in the mirror of their innocent eyes.
They also didn't tell me that there is perhaps no sweeter forgiveness than that of a child who hugs mama close and loves her despite her brokenness and failure.
No one ever told me that I would speak words that had once wounded me. That the words would spew forth as if out of my control.
They also didn't tell me that I would find a way to forgive the one who had wounded me, now equipped with the sweet knowledge that those words hadn't been meant to hurt me but came from a deep well of fear and insecurity.
No one ever told me that I would sometimes get lost in the cacophony of little voices clamoring for my attention. That indeed I could turn them off and get lost inside my own head.
They also didn't tell me that sometimes one small voice would reach through the discord, reminding me that I just had to meet one need at a time.
No one ever told me that someone else's pain could hurt far more than your own.
They also didn't tell me the sweet release of surrendering your loved ones to a caring Father.
No one ever told me that life in this fallen, broken world could be so filled with ash and debris. That I would sometimes stumble through the disarray in confusion and sorrow. But in those moments, He would bring beauty from the ashes, rising up like a brave wild flower taking root in the cinders. The beauty all the more exuberant and wonderful for the dismal surroundings. That when we take root where He plants us, He uses us in our weakness to breathe life to others.
No one ever told me these things
And really, if they had...if they did, I wouldn't have listened. I would've smiled in secret smugness knowing that I would love and live better. Love and live smarter.
Because something else no one ever told me?
I, too, would be more beautiful for the ashes. When I would finally allow myself to be humbled. Kneeling. Broken. Then. Only then could I hear Him whisper quiet, sure words laced with love.
Only then would I let Him shine through this weak, broken vessel.
And that is something worth telling.
They also didn't tell me that I could hand the reigns over to my Father because I was still His child.
No one ever told me that you don't outgrow fear. The monsters lurking just take on a different form is all.
They also didn't tell me that in these shadows, I would learn to lean on God the most.
No one ever told me that love is often a choice you make, not an emotion you feel.
They also didn't tell me that the love would be even sweeter for the choice made.
No one ever told me that the pink and blue bundles of joy placed into my hands would one day bear wounds from their mama's tongue. That my inadequacies, faults and sin would loom ugly in the mirror of their innocent eyes.
They also didn't tell me that there is perhaps no sweeter forgiveness than that of a child who hugs mama close and loves her despite her brokenness and failure.
No one ever told me that I would speak words that had once wounded me. That the words would spew forth as if out of my control.
They also didn't tell me that I would find a way to forgive the one who had wounded me, now equipped with the sweet knowledge that those words hadn't been meant to hurt me but came from a deep well of fear and insecurity.
No one ever told me that I would sometimes get lost in the cacophony of little voices clamoring for my attention. That indeed I could turn them off and get lost inside my own head.
They also didn't tell me that sometimes one small voice would reach through the discord, reminding me that I just had to meet one need at a time.
No one ever told me that someone else's pain could hurt far more than your own.
They also didn't tell me the sweet release of surrendering your loved ones to a caring Father.
No one ever told me that life in this fallen, broken world could be so filled with ash and debris. That I would sometimes stumble through the disarray in confusion and sorrow. But in those moments, He would bring beauty from the ashes, rising up like a brave wild flower taking root in the cinders. The beauty all the more exuberant and wonderful for the dismal surroundings. That when we take root where He plants us, He uses us in our weakness to breathe life to others.
No one ever told me these things
And really, if they had...if they did, I wouldn't have listened. I would've smiled in secret smugness knowing that I would love and live better. Love and live smarter.
Because something else no one ever told me?
I, too, would be more beautiful for the ashes. When I would finally allow myself to be humbled. Kneeling. Broken. Then. Only then could I hear Him whisper quiet, sure words laced with love.
Only then would I let Him shine through this weak, broken vessel.
And that is something worth telling.
Monday, February 4, 2013
The Play Maker
Walking into the gym, I saw third and fourth grade girls warming up. They had attended practices and studied the plays. Some of the girls patiently waited, confidence emanating from their faces, while others nervously paced.
Walking into the gym, I saw third and fourth grade girls warming up. They had attended practices and studied the plays. Some of the girls patiently waited, confidence emanating from their faces, while others nervously paced.
As the game started, it seemed we might be a bit outmatched.
But the girls doggedly continued racing up and down the court trying to
remember the difference between defense and offense. As the coach yelled
reminders and instructions, his words were joined by parents’ voices. Some
shouting encouragement, others yelling instructions. Once in a while, a
reprimand hung in the air.
Now, a friend and I always joke that should we coach, she’d
be the “bad guy” while I’d be the overindulgent (read: nonproductive) coach,
promising a trip for ice cream after the game “no matter the score.” And my softer side was coming out now. I felt
sympathy tugging at my heart as some girls looked clearly bewildered and scared
while most went about the game putting the pieces together: offense, defense,
plays…working all these pieces together to play the game of basketball.
And it hit me.
This is what I feel like most days.
I’ve read the Play Book. I’ve listened to the Coach. I’ve
rehearsed possible scenarios in my head, and visualized what they might look
like out on the court in a real game.
But just like the bewildered grade-schoolers, sometimes the
plays and shots come at me faster than I’d like once I’m actually on the court.
I don’t take time for a time-out and end up winging it, forgetting all the
plays I’d rehearsed with Coach.
And sometimes, I fail.
But the thing is, God doesn’t keep a score board for me.
Others do – they keep score of my inadequacies, my ‘hypocrisies’, my falls and
stumbles. From their vantage point, it is simple: I know the plays, now that
I’m on the court, I just need to put ‘em into action.
Yet from my vantage point, the plays aren’t so clear. I have
circumstances and people coming at me at an intense speed. Through the sweat
dripping off my brow, I see the Coach holding up the Play Book
and calling my name, but sometimes I try to do things on my own because I
can’t seem to hear His voice. Or I have the right play but use it at the wrong
moment. I trip and fall. And finally,
either by admitting my need for help or by a holy time out called by the Play
Maker, I crawl over to the bench. Tears in my eyes, wearing my failure like
it’s my uniform, I grab the Play Book and start searching again. And sometimes
the Coach shows me what I’ve got to do next time. Sometimes, He asks me to redo
what I’ve already done. And always, His sweet grace surrounds me as He
underscores the points in the Book, hands me Living Water and says,
“Take a swig and get back out there.”
“Take a swig and get back out there.”
Then I start playing again. And I sometimes I score. And
most often, I fall. And because I am vocal about my faith, people view my
stumbles or inadequacies as pretenses or hypocrisies.
But He
still isn’t keeping score. When I look at His score board, it simply says
“Redeemed.” And He’s given me amazing teammates who hold me accountable for my
game, who lift me up when I’m beat and who study the plays with me.
And so I keep on, keepin’ on.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Careful With His Words
The past several days, I have been increasingly disturbed as certain photos and statuses are shared over and again, showing up repeatedly on my Facebook page. The topic might be end times, witchcraft/mediums or things of those nature. All touchy subjects in our "anything goes" American culture. But it isn't even the dubious nature of the postings that has me so upset...it is the comments (sometimes into the thousands) underneath, showing the absolute ignorance in the "Christian" body today.
Many of these comments are well meaning - but off base. And some are just bizarre. Some from people out to destroy Christ-following beliefs. Some simply an extension of a society where even Christ followers seek after feel-good philosophies and ideas.
Now, lately I have been criticized for wanting "love" to supersede "truth." That analysis couldn't be farther from what I truly believe. People, claiming to love Jesus, are spouting out doctrine that is simply not true...and making a mockery of the Bible and the God it embodies in its pages. That makes me angry, just as it does my 'critics'! I, too, cringe as I read ignorant comments from people crediting God or the Bible for their twisted theology. Yet, I am fairly sure they've read a piece of Scripture here and there and never gone to the work to read the whole thing. That is a little like putting together a puzzle with half the pieces and passing it off as a work of art. Except the implications here are much more dangerous.
If you profess to be a Christian, you must read your Bible; you must seek to know truth. You must turn your back on what the world says is truth. That's what it means to be a Christian. To follow Christ. We are, too often, trying to meld this culture's secular humanist self-help model of living with a few often-cited Scriptures to make our own comfortable brand of religion. This too, makes me angry. How dishonoring to a very real God who has laid truth out for us.
I believe this whole-heartedly. I believe in Jesus as the Son of God, and I believe that He inspired every word in the Bible to help me live an honoring life, seeking Him. I fall sloppily short often, but I open the pages back up and begin reading again to understand a piece of this majestic God I get to call "Father."
Yet, I have recently been criticized much in the same way I am criticizing the ignorance of the people posting comments that are not biblically true. Let me be clear, I do not want to subscribe to a more comfortable brand of Christianity. I want to follow God - including the hard truths in between the covers of His Word. But I also feel those words should inspire me to action. And yes, to love people. Because if I have all the knowledge contained in those pages and do nothing with them, I am no more productive than an athlete watching training videos as their sole means to training for a sporting event. The truth must propel me to action.
You cannot love people the way Jesus commands us to without knowing His Word in its entirety - hard truths included. But neither can knowledge without love and action surely fully please Him either.
I have fallen often and messily. But I will return to the training book over and again and soak in its Words - praying that God will inspire me with its words each and every time. And I will use those words to help me live and love in an imperfect world, where I am an incredibly imperfect participant, yet showered by His grace. How can I do any less than extend love and grace in this world when I am such an undeserving recipient myself?
If that makes me weak or inferior or too "needy", there you have it. And thank God that I am. I am needy. I am in need of His grace as I fall short every single day. I am in need of others to show me love and grace. I am in need of brothers and sisters in Christ who will hold me accountable, help me to learn and steer me back on track. I don't simply desire a "feel-good" message, I desire real relationship with real people who will help me live in a 'real hard' world, with honor and godliness as much as I can.
So - you will never, ever hear me say the words "thank goodness I'm 'there' " Because I'm not "there." As I've stated, I fall short again and again. But one thing I take seriously is the Word of my God. And I ask you, as a sister in Christ, do not quote Him and give Him credit for words unless you're sure He's spoken them. Because though we live under a grace-giving, merciful Father who knows our hearts, we are speaking to an unforgiving, critical generation who loves to see our inconsistencies and errors. Speak your words carefully. Quote His words more carefully still. Don't fall into the trap I've set for myself in the past, serving a God I'd made up in my mind - my image of Him carefully boxed up and tied with a nice, neat bow. His truths and all the facets of who He is cannot be contained. Make sure the Christ you proclaim is the one found on the pages of Scripture...not a Messiah you've created on your own that comfortably fits your ideals. Because none of us will be prepared for how awesome and majestic He is - but I want all of my knowledge of Him, here on earth, to come straight from His own Word. Please, as you go forward wanting to proclaim truth in an unbelieving world, do so carefully. Study carefully and speak more carefully still.
I say this to you and I say it to myself. God, help us honor you with our words.
Many of these comments are well meaning - but off base. And some are just bizarre. Some from people out to destroy Christ-following beliefs. Some simply an extension of a society where even Christ followers seek after feel-good philosophies and ideas.
Now, lately I have been criticized for wanting "love" to supersede "truth." That analysis couldn't be farther from what I truly believe. People, claiming to love Jesus, are spouting out doctrine that is simply not true...and making a mockery of the Bible and the God it embodies in its pages. That makes me angry, just as it does my 'critics'! I, too, cringe as I read ignorant comments from people crediting God or the Bible for their twisted theology. Yet, I am fairly sure they've read a piece of Scripture here and there and never gone to the work to read the whole thing. That is a little like putting together a puzzle with half the pieces and passing it off as a work of art. Except the implications here are much more dangerous.
If you profess to be a Christian, you must read your Bible; you must seek to know truth. You must turn your back on what the world says is truth. That's what it means to be a Christian. To follow Christ. We are, too often, trying to meld this culture's secular humanist self-help model of living with a few often-cited Scriptures to make our own comfortable brand of religion. This too, makes me angry. How dishonoring to a very real God who has laid truth out for us.
I believe this whole-heartedly. I believe in Jesus as the Son of God, and I believe that He inspired every word in the Bible to help me live an honoring life, seeking Him. I fall sloppily short often, but I open the pages back up and begin reading again to understand a piece of this majestic God I get to call "Father."
Yet, I have recently been criticized much in the same way I am criticizing the ignorance of the people posting comments that are not biblically true. Let me be clear, I do not want to subscribe to a more comfortable brand of Christianity. I want to follow God - including the hard truths in between the covers of His Word. But I also feel those words should inspire me to action. And yes, to love people. Because if I have all the knowledge contained in those pages and do nothing with them, I am no more productive than an athlete watching training videos as their sole means to training for a sporting event. The truth must propel me to action.
You cannot love people the way Jesus commands us to without knowing His Word in its entirety - hard truths included. But neither can knowledge without love and action surely fully please Him either.
I have fallen often and messily. But I will return to the training book over and again and soak in its Words - praying that God will inspire me with its words each and every time. And I will use those words to help me live and love in an imperfect world, where I am an incredibly imperfect participant, yet showered by His grace. How can I do any less than extend love and grace in this world when I am such an undeserving recipient myself?
If that makes me weak or inferior or too "needy", there you have it. And thank God that I am. I am needy. I am in need of His grace as I fall short every single day. I am in need of others to show me love and grace. I am in need of brothers and sisters in Christ who will hold me accountable, help me to learn and steer me back on track. I don't simply desire a "feel-good" message, I desire real relationship with real people who will help me live in a 'real hard' world, with honor and godliness as much as I can.
So - you will never, ever hear me say the words "thank goodness I'm 'there' " Because I'm not "there." As I've stated, I fall short again and again. But one thing I take seriously is the Word of my God. And I ask you, as a sister in Christ, do not quote Him and give Him credit for words unless you're sure He's spoken them. Because though we live under a grace-giving, merciful Father who knows our hearts, we are speaking to an unforgiving, critical generation who loves to see our inconsistencies and errors. Speak your words carefully. Quote His words more carefully still. Don't fall into the trap I've set for myself in the past, serving a God I'd made up in my mind - my image of Him carefully boxed up and tied with a nice, neat bow. His truths and all the facets of who He is cannot be contained. Make sure the Christ you proclaim is the one found on the pages of Scripture...not a Messiah you've created on your own that comfortably fits your ideals. Because none of us will be prepared for how awesome and majestic He is - but I want all of my knowledge of Him, here on earth, to come straight from His own Word. Please, as you go forward wanting to proclaim truth in an unbelieving world, do so carefully. Study carefully and speak more carefully still.
I say this to you and I say it to myself. God, help us honor you with our words.
Monday, June 18, 2012
I Love God...So Why Is Life So Hard?!
Yesterday, we had a guest speaker at church who talked about the average person having a life that goes up and down. Trials and triumphs. Then he quipped, 'when God promised to give believers life abundantly, He delivered. The highs are even higher...and the lows are even lower!'
I laughed because it is SO true. I have a friend who has compared life to a hamster wheel. In mock (and sometimes not-so-mock) dispair, she asked "what is the point?!"
Now you know the quick, "Jesus-y" answer I could give. We all KNOW the point of this life. But sometimes we still wonder about the "whys" of it all. God gave me a little illustration this morning.
As I navigated the track bright and early this morning, after two days of not walking, I found my legs rather stiff. After a couple times around my sphere of torture (okay, okay, I'm joking...kind of), I was loosened up and ready to really roll. I came around the corner of the track, heading south when it hit. A wind so heavy and persistent, it felt like I had a physical wall in front of me. I pushed the stroller with all my might against the wall of wind and seriously contemplated turning off at the exit!
After a few more laps, battling the wind while heading in one direction, I was hit with this revelation. My exercise routine this morning was a bit like life. I would be cruising along just fine and then I would turn the corner and be hit by the wind (insert your trial or circumstance here).
But one thing became clear to me as I continued walking. After pushing against the wind, when I turned the other corner, the wind was at my back. I was gently propelled forward and felt as though I was getting a rest in the midst of my walk. (Isn't God kinda like that?)
My scenery hadn't changed. The track was still a firm, solid ground. I had on shoes supporting my feet, my legs supporting my body. The wind was making my workout a little harder, true. But when it was all said and done, those moments walking against the wind were making me a little stronger.
Isn't that what trials do for us? They help us to strengthen our spiritual muscles.
And God is so faithful. If we will only keep our eyes on Him, we find rest, we find Him as the wind at our back, propelling us forward. Carrying us.
Here's the clincher. I hadn't walked for two days. My body was a little week, a little lazy. I was less equipped to hit that wall of wind.
I do that with my spiritual muscles too. I get spiritually lazy. I fall into patterns where I don't read my Bible daily. I claim to know God's Word and God's will when I am not in His Word to know what His will is.
Doing life without reading His Word or following His truth is a lot like competing in a triatholon without training!
Sometimes life does seem a bit like running tirelessly on a hamster wheel. But that is not God's plan for us. He has things for us to learn and help us grow in absolutely every stage or circumstance He allows. He gave us life. It is a privelege to run this race and we are wise to bear in mind the Helper we have to help us run well.
Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. 1 Corinthians 9:24
We are all here doing this thing called "life" together. As fellow believers we can be the "wind" at someone else's back, propelling them forward.
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. 2 Timothy 4:7
God indeed gives us life abundantly. We will have the highest of highs. But we will still experience lows. Lows that make us ask "why?" and cry out to Him. But that is just it. We can cry out to Him. He will NEVER let our "lows" or suffering be wasted. We can grow in these dark places in unparalelled ways. But we have to be willing to let Him mold us.
In my walk, I loved when I could feel the wind at my back, gently guiding me along. But it was when I faced the wind that I was strengthening myself the most. Pushing through, determined to finish my walk well.
How I wish to do the same in this Walk He blessed me with.
I laughed because it is SO true. I have a friend who has compared life to a hamster wheel. In mock (and sometimes not-so-mock) dispair, she asked "what is the point?!"
Now you know the quick, "Jesus-y" answer I could give. We all KNOW the point of this life. But sometimes we still wonder about the "whys" of it all. God gave me a little illustration this morning.
As I navigated the track bright and early this morning, after two days of not walking, I found my legs rather stiff. After a couple times around my sphere of torture (okay, okay, I'm joking...kind of), I was loosened up and ready to really roll. I came around the corner of the track, heading south when it hit. A wind so heavy and persistent, it felt like I had a physical wall in front of me. I pushed the stroller with all my might against the wall of wind and seriously contemplated turning off at the exit!
After a few more laps, battling the wind while heading in one direction, I was hit with this revelation. My exercise routine this morning was a bit like life. I would be cruising along just fine and then I would turn the corner and be hit by the wind (insert your trial or circumstance here).
But one thing became clear to me as I continued walking. After pushing against the wind, when I turned the other corner, the wind was at my back. I was gently propelled forward and felt as though I was getting a rest in the midst of my walk. (Isn't God kinda like that?)
My scenery hadn't changed. The track was still a firm, solid ground. I had on shoes supporting my feet, my legs supporting my body. The wind was making my workout a little harder, true. But when it was all said and done, those moments walking against the wind were making me a little stronger.
Isn't that what trials do for us? They help us to strengthen our spiritual muscles.
And God is so faithful. If we will only keep our eyes on Him, we find rest, we find Him as the wind at our back, propelling us forward. Carrying us.
Here's the clincher. I hadn't walked for two days. My body was a little week, a little lazy. I was less equipped to hit that wall of wind.
I do that with my spiritual muscles too. I get spiritually lazy. I fall into patterns where I don't read my Bible daily. I claim to know God's Word and God's will when I am not in His Word to know what His will is.
Doing life without reading His Word or following His truth is a lot like competing in a triatholon without training!
Sometimes life does seem a bit like running tirelessly on a hamster wheel. But that is not God's plan for us. He has things for us to learn and help us grow in absolutely every stage or circumstance He allows. He gave us life. It is a privelege to run this race and we are wise to bear in mind the Helper we have to help us run well.
Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize. 1 Corinthians 9:24
We are all here doing this thing called "life" together. As fellow believers we can be the "wind" at someone else's back, propelling them forward.
I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. 2 Timothy 4:7
God indeed gives us life abundantly. We will have the highest of highs. But we will still experience lows. Lows that make us ask "why?" and cry out to Him. But that is just it. We can cry out to Him. He will NEVER let our "lows" or suffering be wasted. We can grow in these dark places in unparalelled ways. But we have to be willing to let Him mold us.
In my walk, I loved when I could feel the wind at my back, gently guiding me along. But it was when I faced the wind that I was strengthening myself the most. Pushing through, determined to finish my walk well.
How I wish to do the same in this Walk He blessed me with.
Thursday, April 26, 2012
My Mission Field
This has been one of those weeks. I am discouraged. Looking around me, I think "this isn't what the picture in my head looks like!"
In my head, I have a squeaky clean nine year old and six year old studiously working on their seatwork. I have a just-turned-four year old who is quietly sitting on the floor putting together puzzles while reciting poetry. And my four month old is laying quietly on a quilt smiling and cooing and smelling all baby fresh. And me? I am put together, hair and make-up in place, with a text book in one hand and cook book in the other, effortlessly caring for my home and teaching my children all at the same time.
Reality check.
I just realized my nine year old IS sitting at the table working studiously...with her hair in knots because she gave up after patiently asking me fifteen times for help braiding the unruly mess. My six year old is also at the table, but more kinda upside down (how is that even possible?!) as he works on his math. That four year old is yelling from the room "EEWWW, that baby PUKED!" as she runs around moving my perfectly organized books from one shelf to another. And that four month year old? Yep, she did spit up...among other things...leaving her not smelling so fresh. Here we go, bath number two for the day! She is teething; we've been up for the past two nights and both mama and baby are D.O.N.E. And the cook book? Forget it. We will be having sandwiches again today - and don't even ask me about supper right now. As for me? My hair is in a frizzy mess. Makeup...are you KIDDING? Old jeans and t-shirt. And the all exclusive fragrance of baby spit up as my main eau de toilette.
And the little nagging voice starts as the picture from Better Homes and Gardens fades.
"You can't do this."
"You aren't giving those kids what they need."
"Look at the mess this house is."
"Look at YOU!"
"You can't do this."
Stop.
Truth.
"You can do this - but only through the love, grace and strength of Christ."
"God will give equip you every step of the way, filling in the gaps."
"Okay...the house really is a mess."
THIS is my mission field. These four children under this roof; they are my mission. Not just to supply their physical needs but to bring them up in the Lord. We definitely don't "do life" perfectly or even prettily but we do turn to Jesus again and again, and I pray that despite all the other things I may do that cause my kids to need therapy, they will walk away with a strong relationship with their Creator and Savior.
As a longing fills my heart to be better, to do better, instead I will turn to Jesus who is the best. That I will let Him fill me up instead of looking around to see how I am falling short. I pray that I will recognize that when I am overwhelmed, it is because I am trying to do the impossible on my own power instead of through Him who gives me strength.
This is my mission field.
Sometimes I imagine forging out into the secular world, working a nine to five job, working 'behind the scenes' to bring others to Christ. Sounds noble, eh?
Or to journey off to some other country and hug and love on orphans and tell people about Jesus. Aw, foreign missionaries - unsung heroes who inspire me with their courage and vision. Talk about sacrifice and working for God's kingdom.
Or maybe I could write some amazing book. Teach a group of women. Join a club. Start a revival. There is so much to DO.
But THIS is my mission field.
In my stained clothes, with the only color on my face being the rings under my eyes. With a house that needs a good cleaning and purging. With kids who aren't lined up straight in a row reciting answers to me, kids who are living, learning ....and hanging upside down doing their addition facts. Homeschooling my children. Rocking the baby. Making a bazillion meals a week and doing my best to keep my house 'presentable'. Trying really hard to make home a safe haven for my husband as he comes home after working in the big ol' crazy world all day.
This is my mission field and this is my mission for now:
To raise these four beautiful children to know that they are loved more than they can fathom by a mom and a dad who desire the very best for them. And that best, to us, means knowing Jesus in a very personal way. To train up our children biblically and academically. To take care of our home and to remember that whether I always cherish the role or not, I am the heart of this home. The children looking up to me and sitting under my teaching will gather a large portion of what it means to be a disciple by watching me. My husband can only be as happy as he finds me when he walks in that door.
This is my mission field.
I will embrace it.
On the mountain tops.
And in the valleys when the only mountains are the towering piles of laundry awaiting me.
Because no matter how I view my work, God says it is priceless. I pray I will do it well - what "well" looks like through His eyes, not my own.
Because I am grateful that, for now, God gave me this mission.
This has been one of those weeks. I am discouraged. Looking around me, I think "this isn't what the picture in my head looks like!"
In my head, I have a squeaky clean nine year old and six year old studiously working on their seatwork. I have a just-turned-four year old who is quietly sitting on the floor putting together puzzles while reciting poetry. And my four month old is laying quietly on a quilt smiling and cooing and smelling all baby fresh. And me? I am put together, hair and make-up in place, with a text book in one hand and cook book in the other, effortlessly caring for my home and teaching my children all at the same time.
Reality check.
I just realized my nine year old IS sitting at the table working studiously...with her hair in knots because she gave up after patiently asking me fifteen times for help braiding the unruly mess. My six year old is also at the table, but more kinda upside down (how is that even possible?!) as he works on his math. That four year old is yelling from the room "EEWWW, that baby PUKED!" as she runs around moving my perfectly organized books from one shelf to another. And that four month year old? Yep, she did spit up...among other things...leaving her not smelling so fresh. Here we go, bath number two for the day! She is teething; we've been up for the past two nights and both mama and baby are D.O.N.E. And the cook book? Forget it. We will be having sandwiches again today - and don't even ask me about supper right now. As for me? My hair is in a frizzy mess. Makeup...are you KIDDING? Old jeans and t-shirt. And the all exclusive fragrance of baby spit up as my main eau de toilette.
And the little nagging voice starts as the picture from Better Homes and Gardens fades.
"You can't do this."
"You aren't giving those kids what they need."
"Look at the mess this house is."
"Look at YOU!"
"You can't do this."
Stop.
Truth.
"You can do this - but only through the love, grace and strength of Christ."
"God will give equip you every step of the way, filling in the gaps."
"Okay...the house really is a mess."
THIS is my mission field. These four children under this roof; they are my mission. Not just to supply their physical needs but to bring them up in the Lord. We definitely don't "do life" perfectly or even prettily but we do turn to Jesus again and again, and I pray that despite all the other things I may do that cause my kids to need therapy, they will walk away with a strong relationship with their Creator and Savior.
As a longing fills my heart to be better, to do better, instead I will turn to Jesus who is the best. That I will let Him fill me up instead of looking around to see how I am falling short. I pray that I will recognize that when I am overwhelmed, it is because I am trying to do the impossible on my own power instead of through Him who gives me strength.
This is my mission field.
Sometimes I imagine forging out into the secular world, working a nine to five job, working 'behind the scenes' to bring others to Christ. Sounds noble, eh?
Or to journey off to some other country and hug and love on orphans and tell people about Jesus. Aw, foreign missionaries - unsung heroes who inspire me with their courage and vision. Talk about sacrifice and working for God's kingdom.
Or maybe I could write some amazing book. Teach a group of women. Join a club. Start a revival. There is so much to DO.
But THIS is my mission field.
In my stained clothes, with the only color on my face being the rings under my eyes. With a house that needs a good cleaning and purging. With kids who aren't lined up straight in a row reciting answers to me, kids who are living, learning ....and hanging upside down doing their addition facts. Homeschooling my children. Rocking the baby. Making a bazillion meals a week and doing my best to keep my house 'presentable'. Trying really hard to make home a safe haven for my husband as he comes home after working in the big ol' crazy world all day.
This is my mission field and this is my mission for now:
To raise these four beautiful children to know that they are loved more than they can fathom by a mom and a dad who desire the very best for them. And that best, to us, means knowing Jesus in a very personal way. To train up our children biblically and academically. To take care of our home and to remember that whether I always cherish the role or not, I am the heart of this home. The children looking up to me and sitting under my teaching will gather a large portion of what it means to be a disciple by watching me. My husband can only be as happy as he finds me when he walks in that door.
This is my mission field.
I will embrace it.
On the mountain tops.
And in the valleys when the only mountains are the towering piles of laundry awaiting me.
Because no matter how I view my work, God says it is priceless. I pray I will do it well - what "well" looks like through His eyes, not my own.
Because I am grateful that, for now, God gave me this mission.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Jesus...are you there?
I sat in silent amusement as I watched my 3 year old and 6 year old work together to construct a tent out of blankets in our living room. They were valiantly working together, without the usual aid of their peace-making older sister, while keeping a lid on their tempers. As the blanket Mollie (3) was working on fell for the umpteenth time, she sighed heavily...her lower lip protruded...and then...she caught herself before a full-fledged tantrum. Proud mama moment! Then she said "Jesus...pleeeeeaassse make it stay up!!"
It fell.
In frustrated unbelief: "Jesus!!!???" She started to get mad again and noticed me sitting there.
"Mom...will you ask the Lord to help me?"
What do I say to that other than "of course" and proceeded to pray with her (in 3 year old terms) for help to figure out how to solve her problem. So we prayed out loud together.
Mollie smiled, content, and turned back to her work...then turned back expectantly. Then the kicker.
"Well?? Did He say yes?"
It was one of those absolutely priceless, cute-as-a-button moments. Her innocent trust was so sweet. Yet as I sat there, something dawned on me.
She sounded an awful lot like me.
How many times do I stomp my feet, asking Jesus for something and then throw a fit because I don't get my way? He could deliver but didn't. I wanted an answer but didn't hear (or couldn't accept the "no" or "wait" answer that I got!) So I get mad and question Him.... "Jesus!!!??"
And then, I seek someone else out. Someone He might listen to better. "Please pray for this..." I ask in a panic. Now there is not a thing wrong with asking someone for prayers. But admittedly, sometimes I do it because in the deepest part of me, I feel like He'll hear someone who is a "better Christian" than me. Or I seek someone else's opinion because just maybe they will have the answer I am looking for and I won't have to wait patiently (my least favorite thing!)
The thing I loved about tonight's Bible study, given by Mollie without her even knowing it, was that later tonight, she still wanted to talk to Jesus. She wasn't mad that He hadn't given her an answer to what she wanted in the way she wanted. In fact, she was perfectly content with the fact that her brother had lent her a helping hand. She was able to see that his help might just have been the provision she needed, not a blanket that magically stayed put.
Ah, that I would have the grace and innocent faith of a child. We believe in what we do not see. That is faith. And sometimes He is so faithful to just give us a little glimpse!
It fell.
In frustrated unbelief: "Jesus!!!???" She started to get mad again and noticed me sitting there.
"Mom...will you ask the Lord to help me?"
What do I say to that other than "of course" and proceeded to pray with her (in 3 year old terms) for help to figure out how to solve her problem. So we prayed out loud together.
Mollie smiled, content, and turned back to her work...then turned back expectantly. Then the kicker.
"Well?? Did He say yes?"
It was one of those absolutely priceless, cute-as-a-button moments. Her innocent trust was so sweet. Yet as I sat there, something dawned on me.
She sounded an awful lot like me.
How many times do I stomp my feet, asking Jesus for something and then throw a fit because I don't get my way? He could deliver but didn't. I wanted an answer but didn't hear (or couldn't accept the "no" or "wait" answer that I got!) So I get mad and question Him.... "Jesus!!!??"
And then, I seek someone else out. Someone He might listen to better. "Please pray for this..." I ask in a panic. Now there is not a thing wrong with asking someone for prayers. But admittedly, sometimes I do it because in the deepest part of me, I feel like He'll hear someone who is a "better Christian" than me. Or I seek someone else's opinion because just maybe they will have the answer I am looking for and I won't have to wait patiently (my least favorite thing!)
The thing I loved about tonight's Bible study, given by Mollie without her even knowing it, was that later tonight, she still wanted to talk to Jesus. She wasn't mad that He hadn't given her an answer to what she wanted in the way she wanted. In fact, she was perfectly content with the fact that her brother had lent her a helping hand. She was able to see that his help might just have been the provision she needed, not a blanket that magically stayed put.
Ah, that I would have the grace and innocent faith of a child. We believe in what we do not see. That is faith. And sometimes He is so faithful to just give us a little glimpse!
Saturday, April 7, 2012
He Calls Me Friend
Last night, I was blessed to attend an amazing Good Friday production; it was absolutely stirring. I need a whole other blog opportunity to share how much this performance awoke in me. But I have to share my strange preoccupation with the way Jesus interacted with the disciples. I felt an odd longing I couldn't quite place my finger on at the time.
"On the outside looking in" was always more than a cliche to me. I have felt so many times throughout my life like I was doing this exact thing. I would view other friendships, other families absolutely sure that they had it "all together". They had somehow achieved this delicate balance of near perfection that always seemed to elude me. I was sure that other people didn't have the ugliness pervade their thought processes that mine sometimes did. Sure that other families didn't struggle. Sure that other people had perfect Godly friendships and marriages straight out of a Karen Kingsbury novel.
Thankfully God graciously, mercifully allowed other Christ-following individuals to let me into their own "messiness." Soon I saw that all couples, all families, all friendships have those "ick" moments too. I am forever grateful for the amazing individuals God placed in my life who allowed me to see that "ugly" can be beautiful too...that it is through the tough stuff where we grow the most.
And yet...I still hold on to perceptions and expectations that are placed on me...by me. This morning, I stood in my kitchen, finishing Easter preparations with my hair in complete disarray, spit up staining my old t-shirt, baby prunes making an ugly brown blotch on my shorts. The kids were finishing up their Easter eggs; by this time they had forsaken any utensils left to soak the eggs and were simply using their fingers to place eggs into the dye. I was too tired to muster up any energy to be upset by the fact that when they are arrayed in their Easter finery tomorrow, they will still most likely, have the remnants of a rainbow on their hands. I looked around and thought "the person I want to be, wouldn't be standing here in this chaos."
It then hit me with all the force of a July thunderstorm. I was expecting perfection of me because I was still wanting to be "good enough" for the amazing people God has placed in my life. (They have never demanded perfection of me; only I put those demands on myself.) And as stood there, fairly sure that I could smell a dirty diaper somewhere even beyond the stench of the spit up pervading my nostrils, I was hit by another thunder clap. I still, STILL, even after all the preaching I do to others, thought I needed to hit closer to perfection to be called Jesus's friend.
I KNEW He was my Savior. I KNEW He was my King. But the reason, at last night's production, I had a lump in my throat as the fictitious Jesus hugged His disciples after He had risen, was because I wanted Him to love me like THAT.
He already does.
In my smelly clothes. When I lose my patience. When I mess up.
He loves me like THAT.
He wants to embrace me as an old friend. He knows me. And He wants me to know Him.
And that is when it clicked. The door to freedom. I want to know Jesus. Not know what He can do for me. Not serve Him to rack up heavenly points. But to know Him. To face Him after this earthly life is over for me and be able to embrace Him and say "friend." Teacher, yes. Lord, most definitely. Most High, absolutely. But also, Friend. He's my friend.
And He thought I was worth dying for. I have heard it said many times "if you were the only person in the world, Jesus still would have died on the cross." That hit me hard today.
He really would have. Died. Just for me, to save me so we could fellowship in eternity.
That is love. He calls me friend.
And for the rest of this earthly life, I pray that I will never take my eyes off Him. Learning to be more like Him, being His hands and feet here. Learning to see Him in the world we live in. So that when I finally, stand...or most likely, kneel...before Him, I might hear the words "well done...Friend." Not because I was "good enough" or "did enough" but because He loved me and I spent my life loving Him and longing to know Him. Help me know You, Jesus.
"On the outside looking in" was always more than a cliche to me. I have felt so many times throughout my life like I was doing this exact thing. I would view other friendships, other families absolutely sure that they had it "all together". They had somehow achieved this delicate balance of near perfection that always seemed to elude me. I was sure that other people didn't have the ugliness pervade their thought processes that mine sometimes did. Sure that other families didn't struggle. Sure that other people had perfect Godly friendships and marriages straight out of a Karen Kingsbury novel.
Thankfully God graciously, mercifully allowed other Christ-following individuals to let me into their own "messiness." Soon I saw that all couples, all families, all friendships have those "ick" moments too. I am forever grateful for the amazing individuals God placed in my life who allowed me to see that "ugly" can be beautiful too...that it is through the tough stuff where we grow the most.
And yet...I still hold on to perceptions and expectations that are placed on me...by me. This morning, I stood in my kitchen, finishing Easter preparations with my hair in complete disarray, spit up staining my old t-shirt, baby prunes making an ugly brown blotch on my shorts. The kids were finishing up their Easter eggs; by this time they had forsaken any utensils left to soak the eggs and were simply using their fingers to place eggs into the dye. I was too tired to muster up any energy to be upset by the fact that when they are arrayed in their Easter finery tomorrow, they will still most likely, have the remnants of a rainbow on their hands. I looked around and thought "the person I want to be, wouldn't be standing here in this chaos."
It then hit me with all the force of a July thunderstorm. I was expecting perfection of me because I was still wanting to be "good enough" for the amazing people God has placed in my life. (They have never demanded perfection of me; only I put those demands on myself.) And as stood there, fairly sure that I could smell a dirty diaper somewhere even beyond the stench of the spit up pervading my nostrils, I was hit by another thunder clap. I still, STILL, even after all the preaching I do to others, thought I needed to hit closer to perfection to be called Jesus's friend.
I KNEW He was my Savior. I KNEW He was my King. But the reason, at last night's production, I had a lump in my throat as the fictitious Jesus hugged His disciples after He had risen, was because I wanted Him to love me like THAT.
He already does.
In my smelly clothes. When I lose my patience. When I mess up.
He loves me like THAT.
He wants to embrace me as an old friend. He knows me. And He wants me to know Him.
And that is when it clicked. The door to freedom. I want to know Jesus. Not know what He can do for me. Not serve Him to rack up heavenly points. But to know Him. To face Him after this earthly life is over for me and be able to embrace Him and say "friend." Teacher, yes. Lord, most definitely. Most High, absolutely. But also, Friend. He's my friend.
And He thought I was worth dying for. I have heard it said many times "if you were the only person in the world, Jesus still would have died on the cross." That hit me hard today.
He really would have. Died. Just for me, to save me so we could fellowship in eternity.
That is love. He calls me friend.
And for the rest of this earthly life, I pray that I will never take my eyes off Him. Learning to be more like Him, being His hands and feet here. Learning to see Him in the world we live in. So that when I finally, stand...or most likely, kneel...before Him, I might hear the words "well done...Friend." Not because I was "good enough" or "did enough" but because He loved me and I spent my life loving Him and longing to know Him. Help me know You, Jesus.
Monday, January 30, 2012
My Christianity Habit
A couple of weeks ago, my pastor made a comment about the "sub-culture" of Christianity. This comment, though hardly the point of his sermon, has stuck with me ever since.
The sub culture of Christianity...
the music "we" listen to
the phrases "we" glibly throw around...knowing others 'like us' will get it
the emblems on "our" cars
the books "we" buy by the bag full showing how educated and Christ-like we really are (because I just know Jesus cased Barnes and Noble looking for the latest book telling Him how to get it all together...or affirming that He already had it down)
So I am totally not making fun of my brothers and sisters in the faith. At all. This was simply a highly convicting moment for me.
You see, there isn't anything wrong with any of that. I'm not giving up my Toby Mac or love of reading. So why is this bothering me so much? Those things are all good things. But they aren't so great if they've replaced my 'first love.' Jesus. Have I replaced truly worshipping God by turning Christianity into...a habit?
I think there are many seasons that I've done just that...and I think I was just caught in one otherwise that single comment wouldn't have rattled around in this ol' skull of mine so persistently.
If we aren't very careful, we can let the joy of our relationship with Christ turn into simply another list of things to do and not to do. Tallying them up at the end of the week...making sure that we've 'acted' more like a Christian than not.
Where is the awe in that? The utter amazement at an amazing God. I can sing along to lyrics that proclaim His greatness. Or I can read books that talk about how good He is. But do I stop to meditate on His truths, His Word myself? In this fast-food, instant gratification society have I succombed to letting others do my thinking for me?
I think I have sometimes. But I am so thankful that He is faithful and doesn't let me get too comfortable in this spot. He loves me too much for that.
Christianity isn't about what we do or don't do. It isn't about what we look like. Whether we say the "right" things or not. Whether our family measures up to the family sitting in the front pew. Christianity is about a relationship. The only one that matters. The one between us and Jesus. And that is way more fulfilling than a habit.
The sub culture of Christianity...
the music "we" listen to
the phrases "we" glibly throw around...knowing others 'like us' will get it
the emblems on "our" cars
the books "we" buy by the bag full showing how educated and Christ-like we really are (because I just know Jesus cased Barnes and Noble looking for the latest book telling Him how to get it all together...or affirming that He already had it down)
So I am totally not making fun of my brothers and sisters in the faith. At all. This was simply a highly convicting moment for me.
You see, there isn't anything wrong with any of that. I'm not giving up my Toby Mac or love of reading. So why is this bothering me so much? Those things are all good things. But they aren't so great if they've replaced my 'first love.' Jesus. Have I replaced truly worshipping God by turning Christianity into...a habit?
I think there are many seasons that I've done just that...and I think I was just caught in one otherwise that single comment wouldn't have rattled around in this ol' skull of mine so persistently.
If we aren't very careful, we can let the joy of our relationship with Christ turn into simply another list of things to do and not to do. Tallying them up at the end of the week...making sure that we've 'acted' more like a Christian than not.
Where is the awe in that? The utter amazement at an amazing God. I can sing along to lyrics that proclaim His greatness. Or I can read books that talk about how good He is. But do I stop to meditate on His truths, His Word myself? In this fast-food, instant gratification society have I succombed to letting others do my thinking for me?
I think I have sometimes. But I am so thankful that He is faithful and doesn't let me get too comfortable in this spot. He loves me too much for that.
Christianity isn't about what we do or don't do. It isn't about what we look like. Whether we say the "right" things or not. Whether our family measures up to the family sitting in the front pew. Christianity is about a relationship. The only one that matters. The one between us and Jesus. And that is way more fulfilling than a habit.
Friday, January 27, 2012
Tongue-in-Cheek...but not really
Okay, I have seriously had several thought-provoking ramblings rumbling inside this little brain of mine, but for now, this is what you will get. A little venting...but mostly humor. :)
I am debating on my new standard answer for all of those people who feel it is their duty to ask me, open-mouthed after founding out we were just blessed with our (gasp!) fourth child, whether we are done yet or if we have yet figured out "how that happens." My sister in law showed me a tongue-in-cheek article in a parenting magazine before I had Joy that made me giggle on this topic. Wow...I wish now I would have saved it. But...my naughty little mind isn't having much trouble coming up with my own this morning! So in response to: "So...you're done now...right?"...
1. Gosh, I'm just not sure. James didn't have enough items to deduct for his business on this year's taxes....so....
2. Well, you know...we homeschool...so, if I want to keep my job...
3. Ya' know, we just figured that God said "Be fruitful and multiply"...James and I kinda got a late start on this whole following-Christ deal so we figured we would make up for lost time by obeying this command with gusto!
4. Well I just don't know? We thought at one point, maybe we would just trade in our oldest for a new model...
Okay, so this probably isn't very funny to those of you who don't get "Nicki humor" or love me enough to overlook it but it gave me a giggle this morning. Sometimes people just give me the nudge I need to remember to watch my own conversations and how I respond to people. 'Cuz seriously people...it kinda takes the joy out of enjoying your new lil' one when someone stops to admire her and then says "But you're done now right?" We have a big happy bunch...and we thank God every single day for the full, crazy houseful that He has blessed us with.
Hope you laughed. I will work on a more serious post later...but right now, it's kind of crazy around here. You see, I have FOUR children running around....
;)
I am debating on my new standard answer for all of those people who feel it is their duty to ask me, open-mouthed after founding out we were just blessed with our (gasp!) fourth child, whether we are done yet or if we have yet figured out "how that happens." My sister in law showed me a tongue-in-cheek article in a parenting magazine before I had Joy that made me giggle on this topic. Wow...I wish now I would have saved it. But...my naughty little mind isn't having much trouble coming up with my own this morning! So in response to: "So...you're done now...right?"...
1. Gosh, I'm just not sure. James didn't have enough items to deduct for his business on this year's taxes....so....
2. Well, you know...we homeschool...so, if I want to keep my job...
3. Ya' know, we just figured that God said "Be fruitful and multiply"...James and I kinda got a late start on this whole following-Christ deal so we figured we would make up for lost time by obeying this command with gusto!
4. Well I just don't know? We thought at one point, maybe we would just trade in our oldest for a new model...
Okay, so this probably isn't very funny to those of you who don't get "Nicki humor" or love me enough to overlook it but it gave me a giggle this morning. Sometimes people just give me the nudge I need to remember to watch my own conversations and how I respond to people. 'Cuz seriously people...it kinda takes the joy out of enjoying your new lil' one when someone stops to admire her and then says "But you're done now right?" We have a big happy bunch...and we thank God every single day for the full, crazy houseful that He has blessed us with.
Hope you laughed. I will work on a more serious post later...but right now, it's kind of crazy around here. You see, I have FOUR children running around....
;)
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Distraction, Discontent and Discouragement
"There's a man down on earth who needs our help."
"Splendid! Is he sick?"
"No, worse... He's discouraged."
This is one of my absolute favorite parts from "It's a Wonderful Life." So much truth rings through in those three simple lines.
Distraction. Discontent. Discouragement. Three things I struggle with on a daily basis. Three things that keep me from experiencing true joy and contentment in Christ.
Three things that keep my eyes on self...and take my eyes off Jesus.
I have said before that these are three of satan's easiest, most oft used tools to keep us from focusing on Christ and His work for us here on earth. But the truth is, I don't need much help from satan's lies to bury myself in a pit of self-pity and discontent. It takes very little to make me feel overwhelmed and distracted. Both of which quickly place me in a cycle of discouragement.
So I read...and I try to figure out what is wrong with "me". I try to figure out why God isn't following my plan for my life. (That is laughable right there!) I get mad at others for not playing by my rules. I get mad at circumstances for making life harder for me.
Thankfully, God doesn't let me stay there. He gently lifts me up from the heap of pity I've allowed myself to become and points my eyes in another direction. He rips a few of the jaded scales off my eyes and allows me to see the love I am surrounded by. He puts someone in my path who shows me what it means to live for Christ in a relentless pursuit of furthering His kingdom work. He shows me how much I have and how little others have. And He shows me how much happier those with little are because they do something I don't do.
They keep their eyes on Jesus.
They don't fret about what they don't have for next week. They thank God for what He's provided today. They don't whine about their lack of "me" time. They praise God that there is always another task they can complete for Him. They don't search for the next thing that will make them happy. They search for the next opportunity to make someone else happy.
Because their eyes are on Jesus.
They are not distracted. Their focus is Him.
They are not discontent. They know that as they work for Him, He will provide all of their needs.
They don't stay discouraged as they look at the mess of this world because they know that there is at least one concrete thing they can do today to make it a little brighter.
To look at this world through eyes other than my own - that is my plea, Father. To see others through your eyes. To love others like you would. My personal preferences and my personal comfort no longer my first concern. Mold me into this kind of person. A person who will give...not because it will make me feel good but because I want to be your hands and feet here on earth. A person who will sit in any mess and see your beauty through the ashes.
And I will not be so easily distracted. I will be content, no matter my circumstances. And I won't be discouraged... for every little piece of love I can give out, you will give back to me one-hundredfold.
Help me to empty myself of ME and fill myself with YOU - only to give You away piece by piece to a hurting, discontent world around me. For in that truth I will find focus, contentment and encouragement.
"Splendid! Is he sick?"
"No, worse... He's discouraged."
This is one of my absolute favorite parts from "It's a Wonderful Life." So much truth rings through in those three simple lines.
Distraction. Discontent. Discouragement. Three things I struggle with on a daily basis. Three things that keep me from experiencing true joy and contentment in Christ.
Three things that keep my eyes on self...and take my eyes off Jesus.
I have said before that these are three of satan's easiest, most oft used tools to keep us from focusing on Christ and His work for us here on earth. But the truth is, I don't need much help from satan's lies to bury myself in a pit of self-pity and discontent. It takes very little to make me feel overwhelmed and distracted. Both of which quickly place me in a cycle of discouragement.
So I read...and I try to figure out what is wrong with "me". I try to figure out why God isn't following my plan for my life. (That is laughable right there!) I get mad at others for not playing by my rules. I get mad at circumstances for making life harder for me.
Thankfully, God doesn't let me stay there. He gently lifts me up from the heap of pity I've allowed myself to become and points my eyes in another direction. He rips a few of the jaded scales off my eyes and allows me to see the love I am surrounded by. He puts someone in my path who shows me what it means to live for Christ in a relentless pursuit of furthering His kingdom work. He shows me how much I have and how little others have. And He shows me how much happier those with little are because they do something I don't do.
They keep their eyes on Jesus.
They don't fret about what they don't have for next week. They thank God for what He's provided today. They don't whine about their lack of "me" time. They praise God that there is always another task they can complete for Him. They don't search for the next thing that will make them happy. They search for the next opportunity to make someone else happy.
Because their eyes are on Jesus.
They are not distracted. Their focus is Him.
They are not discontent. They know that as they work for Him, He will provide all of their needs.
They don't stay discouraged as they look at the mess of this world because they know that there is at least one concrete thing they can do today to make it a little brighter.
To look at this world through eyes other than my own - that is my plea, Father. To see others through your eyes. To love others like you would. My personal preferences and my personal comfort no longer my first concern. Mold me into this kind of person. A person who will give...not because it will make me feel good but because I want to be your hands and feet here on earth. A person who will sit in any mess and see your beauty through the ashes.
And I will not be so easily distracted. I will be content, no matter my circumstances. And I won't be discouraged... for every little piece of love I can give out, you will give back to me one-hundredfold.
Help me to empty myself of ME and fill myself with YOU - only to give You away piece by piece to a hurting, discontent world around me. For in that truth I will find focus, contentment and encouragement.
Friday, April 22, 2011
A Loving God?
I started this day by reading an email about Rob Bell and his controversial book "Love Wins". I have not read this book so I will not claim to know all that is contained in its covers. But the gist of it seems to be that he is telling Christians everywhere that there is not really a hell per se...more of a second chance for us to choose Christ. A purgatory, if you will. And really when it comes down to it, he can't believe that a loving God would send anyone to hell, whether Christian, Muslim, Buddhist, whatever. So if this is where you would like to read in my blog that I am applauding Bell and his "new version of Christianity", then you should stop reading. If you want to read that I am tolerant and believe all roads lead to heaven, then definitely stop reading.
Rob Bell is quoted as saying "I have long wondered if there is a massive shift coming in what it means to be a Christian... something new is in the air."
Would you explain to me why that would be comforting to anyone other than a society who is out to be the most comfortable with the least effort? A faith that is over 2,000 years old is being redefined and we should be excited about this? My answer is a resounding NO.
The Bible is truth. The Bible is God's inspired Word to us. THAT is a loving God to me. He didn't leave us floundering here trying to figure out what to do, He gave us a guidebook. Of course, Bell also, in one of his popular Nooma vidoes (I watched many several years ago in an adult Sunday school class), repeatedly made statements concerning the "creation myth". Okay, this is another warning for you to check out of this blog now if you want me to be all tolerant and "we can read the Bible any way we see fit." The creation ACCOUNT is not a myth. It is truth. Just like every page in Scripture. So many people tell me the Bible is not relevant to their lives, that it doesn't make sense. If you don't read the Bible in its entirety and seek Bible study and teaching that will open it up for you, it might not make sense but it isn't because the answers aren't there. It's because our priorities put the Bible on a shelf and a remote in our hand or a computer monitor on our lap while we recline. (Hey, I'm not judging, I'm doing it right now!)
Okay, there is a point to my rant on reading the Bible. We say we want to "live like Jesus". We want to do good and obey God's commands. But we want to do that while not opening the pages of God's Word. How does that make sense? Don't get me wrong, I've had great Bible teaching, listened to amazing sermons and messages and rocked out to Christian music. And those are all great ways to stay connected and fellowship with believers. But we have this amazing gift to us - God's guide book...and we ignore it.
The danger in that?? More and more churches are popping up, preaching attractive doctrine that simply is not biblically sound. That is dangerous. Call me a fanatic. Call me intolerant. But really? I'm simply in awe of the God I read about and would not willingly choose to offend Him at any cost. I feel there is little more offensive than putting words in His mouth that He didn't say.
Okay, so I've been pondering this all day, extremely irritated at this extremely popular pastor who is spouting untruths that are being eaten up like candy by a spoiled, indulged society. His phrase that really ticks me off? "A loving God wouldn't condemn anyone to hell." Let me share how I ended my night.
Snuggled up with the kids, we read the Easter story and talked about why Good Friday is such a solemn day. I shared with my older two the graphic details of the beating and events leading to the crucifixion along with what a crucifixion actually would have looked like. (Condemn me here if you will but my children will understand truth.) We talked about (because of the wise questions of my 8 and 5 year old who know what a privilege it is to have a Bible in their very own hands) how Jesus didn't HAVE to live life as a human; He CHOSE to come to earth to live the same troubled human life we all endure. He walked the same roads, endured the same problems. All knowing that eventually He would die a gruesome death (don't let a Sunday school version of Jesus's death numb you to the reality). He endured a beating so severe, it ripped the skin from His body. He endured mocking and taunting as He walked death row...carrying His own cross. And He laid there as they pounded nails through His wrists and His ankles.
All the while, crying out that His Father would forgive the ones doing these deeds.
Forgive them, Father.
He was fully God but fully human. He hurt. He felt alone. And at that moment, He was...as He lay on that cross (look up crucifixion if you have ANY doubts as to the pain He would have endured), He WAS truly alone. His Father, so holy that He cannot be near sin, had to turn away as all sins that had been committed up to that time and would ever be committed were heaped upon His Son as He breathed His last. Your sins. My own. They are what held Him there.
God created us with a free-will. He didn't want more angels to do His bidding. He wanted humans, men and woman who would choose to love Him...but whom He would not force to do so. And when...in our independence, we chose over and over to reject Him (which an account of this is in...you guessed it...the Bible), He came to Earth Himself to take the punishment so we would not have to be divided from Him forever.
So Mr. Bell and any of you who would like to argue with me that if God would dare to condemn any to hell, He couldn't possibly be a Loving God...I would like to say shame on you. Because the love of my God was so very apparent by my Lord who lay dying on a cross, carrying my every sin, and saying "Father, forgive them."
And this is why today, I solemnly remember that sad day...but look forward to Easter morn...when the tomb was empty. Jesus has risen indeed, conquering the very gates of hell. And He will conquer any teaching that makes a mockery or untruth of His word. Woe be to those who choose the easy, attractive teaching, rather than sound truth. He wasn't taken lightly at His first coming - what will He find here on Earth at His second coming?
Rob Bell is quoted as saying "I have long wondered if there is a massive shift coming in what it means to be a Christian... something new is in the air."
Would you explain to me why that would be comforting to anyone other than a society who is out to be the most comfortable with the least effort? A faith that is over 2,000 years old is being redefined and we should be excited about this? My answer is a resounding NO.
The Bible is truth. The Bible is God's inspired Word to us. THAT is a loving God to me. He didn't leave us floundering here trying to figure out what to do, He gave us a guidebook. Of course, Bell also, in one of his popular Nooma vidoes (I watched many several years ago in an adult Sunday school class), repeatedly made statements concerning the "creation myth". Okay, this is another warning for you to check out of this blog now if you want me to be all tolerant and "we can read the Bible any way we see fit." The creation ACCOUNT is not a myth. It is truth. Just like every page in Scripture. So many people tell me the Bible is not relevant to their lives, that it doesn't make sense. If you don't read the Bible in its entirety and seek Bible study and teaching that will open it up for you, it might not make sense but it isn't because the answers aren't there. It's because our priorities put the Bible on a shelf and a remote in our hand or a computer monitor on our lap while we recline. (Hey, I'm not judging, I'm doing it right now!)
Okay, there is a point to my rant on reading the Bible. We say we want to "live like Jesus". We want to do good and obey God's commands. But we want to do that while not opening the pages of God's Word. How does that make sense? Don't get me wrong, I've had great Bible teaching, listened to amazing sermons and messages and rocked out to Christian music. And those are all great ways to stay connected and fellowship with believers. But we have this amazing gift to us - God's guide book...and we ignore it.
The danger in that?? More and more churches are popping up, preaching attractive doctrine that simply is not biblically sound. That is dangerous. Call me a fanatic. Call me intolerant. But really? I'm simply in awe of the God I read about and would not willingly choose to offend Him at any cost. I feel there is little more offensive than putting words in His mouth that He didn't say.
Okay, so I've been pondering this all day, extremely irritated at this extremely popular pastor who is spouting untruths that are being eaten up like candy by a spoiled, indulged society. His phrase that really ticks me off? "A loving God wouldn't condemn anyone to hell." Let me share how I ended my night.
Snuggled up with the kids, we read the Easter story and talked about why Good Friday is such a solemn day. I shared with my older two the graphic details of the beating and events leading to the crucifixion along with what a crucifixion actually would have looked like. (Condemn me here if you will but my children will understand truth.) We talked about (because of the wise questions of my 8 and 5 year old who know what a privilege it is to have a Bible in their very own hands) how Jesus didn't HAVE to live life as a human; He CHOSE to come to earth to live the same troubled human life we all endure. He walked the same roads, endured the same problems. All knowing that eventually He would die a gruesome death (don't let a Sunday school version of Jesus's death numb you to the reality). He endured a beating so severe, it ripped the skin from His body. He endured mocking and taunting as He walked death row...carrying His own cross. And He laid there as they pounded nails through His wrists and His ankles.
All the while, crying out that His Father would forgive the ones doing these deeds.
Forgive them, Father.
He was fully God but fully human. He hurt. He felt alone. And at that moment, He was...as He lay on that cross (look up crucifixion if you have ANY doubts as to the pain He would have endured), He WAS truly alone. His Father, so holy that He cannot be near sin, had to turn away as all sins that had been committed up to that time and would ever be committed were heaped upon His Son as He breathed His last. Your sins. My own. They are what held Him there.
God created us with a free-will. He didn't want more angels to do His bidding. He wanted humans, men and woman who would choose to love Him...but whom He would not force to do so. And when...in our independence, we chose over and over to reject Him (which an account of this is in...you guessed it...the Bible), He came to Earth Himself to take the punishment so we would not have to be divided from Him forever.
So Mr. Bell and any of you who would like to argue with me that if God would dare to condemn any to hell, He couldn't possibly be a Loving God...I would like to say shame on you. Because the love of my God was so very apparent by my Lord who lay dying on a cross, carrying my every sin, and saying "Father, forgive them."
And this is why today, I solemnly remember that sad day...but look forward to Easter morn...when the tomb was empty. Jesus has risen indeed, conquering the very gates of hell. And He will conquer any teaching that makes a mockery or untruth of His word. Woe be to those who choose the easy, attractive teaching, rather than sound truth. He wasn't taken lightly at His first coming - what will He find here on Earth at His second coming?
Sunday, January 16, 2011
The Emotion of It All
If you haven't noticed, I talk a great deal about things being a balance...if you go off too far on one end of the spectrum or the other, then your world is off-kilter. Yep, you guessed it, I think about this and ponder it so much because I am completely UN-balanced! But...I'm a work in progress...
I was thinking about emotion the other day. At the exact same time I was ruefully asking God why He made me with so MUCH emotion, a friend was sending me an email with a beautiful line about celebrating emotion. Ironic, huh? I quickly quipped back to her in a short email that I wasn't exactly celebrating my emotion when I was rocking a baby to sleep, sobbing as I watched The Waltons because Daddy just didn't understand why Jason didn't want to go into the family business - he wanted to be a country music star! Even more ironically, when a gospel music show came on next, I didn't hesitate to roll my eyes at the elaborate show of emotion displayed.
So why can I display such emotion over some things and then hold others in disdain when they display similar emotion? I think one reason is my emotion scares me. I hate the roller coaster up and down feeling. I can certainly be ruled by my emotions and that is upsetting to a control freak like myself. I fear and am angered by the fact that in my humanness, I can be fine, positively giddy in fact, one moment and then feel like my life is topsy-turvy because of one insecurity. Because one person doesn't understand me. Because one situation in my life is not right. It could take one comment or look and I have dived from the mountain to the valley. This range of emotion scares me. God and I are working on this - He is teaching me a great deal about the reality of things and the fact that the only thing unchanging is...well, Him.
So maybe I fear that I will come across as someone who is keeling over in a faint, proclaiming the day of the Lord...yet, I realize that I cannot, as I try so often to do, contain the unfathomable mysteries and grandness of what makes our Christian faith. I cannot get it down to bare-bone facts.
You can't take the emotion out of the thing.
I don't want a faith that is based solely on emotional thrills. I have to be grounded in Scripture and know truth. Not just get carried away by the emotion of beautiful music or touching testimonies.
Yet, I cannot reduce Jesus and His truths to plain facts either. I must be well-versed in Scripture. I must study His Word faithfully and know the facts. But to become ritualistic or legalistic, or luke-warm in my faith, would be a great loss.
We serve a mighty God. An amazing God. And as He reveals more and more of Himself to us, as we learn more about Him and His Spirit, we will be filled with awe. Wonder. Spontaneous worship. A need to sing His praises. To write an emotion-filled blog. To share His love with an unbelieving world, tears in our eyes, gesturing wildly for others to understand.
So get the facts. Don't just let others tell you about Him or their philosophies, sell you on their brand of 'religion'. Pick up the Bible and find out yourself. Memorize Scripture. Get serious about Him. Be a scholar right there in your easy chair.
But don't be afraid to spontaneously lift your arms in praise, emotions overflowing and unashamedly praise Him. Because you can't put God in a box. You don't take Him out on Sundays or when things are really bad. Day in and day out, you will be amazed by this God who created us. And that is worth getting emotional about.
I was thinking about emotion the other day. At the exact same time I was ruefully asking God why He made me with so MUCH emotion, a friend was sending me an email with a beautiful line about celebrating emotion. Ironic, huh? I quickly quipped back to her in a short email that I wasn't exactly celebrating my emotion when I was rocking a baby to sleep, sobbing as I watched The Waltons because Daddy just didn't understand why Jason didn't want to go into the family business - he wanted to be a country music star! Even more ironically, when a gospel music show came on next, I didn't hesitate to roll my eyes at the elaborate show of emotion displayed.
So why can I display such emotion over some things and then hold others in disdain when they display similar emotion? I think one reason is my emotion scares me. I hate the roller coaster up and down feeling. I can certainly be ruled by my emotions and that is upsetting to a control freak like myself. I fear and am angered by the fact that in my humanness, I can be fine, positively giddy in fact, one moment and then feel like my life is topsy-turvy because of one insecurity. Because one person doesn't understand me. Because one situation in my life is not right. It could take one comment or look and I have dived from the mountain to the valley. This range of emotion scares me. God and I are working on this - He is teaching me a great deal about the reality of things and the fact that the only thing unchanging is...well, Him.
So maybe I fear that I will come across as someone who is keeling over in a faint, proclaiming the day of the Lord...yet, I realize that I cannot, as I try so often to do, contain the unfathomable mysteries and grandness of what makes our Christian faith. I cannot get it down to bare-bone facts.
You can't take the emotion out of the thing.
I don't want a faith that is based solely on emotional thrills. I have to be grounded in Scripture and know truth. Not just get carried away by the emotion of beautiful music or touching testimonies.
Yet, I cannot reduce Jesus and His truths to plain facts either. I must be well-versed in Scripture. I must study His Word faithfully and know the facts. But to become ritualistic or legalistic, or luke-warm in my faith, would be a great loss.
We serve a mighty God. An amazing God. And as He reveals more and more of Himself to us, as we learn more about Him and His Spirit, we will be filled with awe. Wonder. Spontaneous worship. A need to sing His praises. To write an emotion-filled blog. To share His love with an unbelieving world, tears in our eyes, gesturing wildly for others to understand.
So get the facts. Don't just let others tell you about Him or their philosophies, sell you on their brand of 'religion'. Pick up the Bible and find out yourself. Memorize Scripture. Get serious about Him. Be a scholar right there in your easy chair.
But don't be afraid to spontaneously lift your arms in praise, emotions overflowing and unashamedly praise Him. Because you can't put God in a box. You don't take Him out on Sundays or when things are really bad. Day in and day out, you will be amazed by this God who created us. And that is worth getting emotional about.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
The Edge of His Cloak
Jesus Raises a Dead Girl and Heals a Sick Woman
40 Now when Jesus returned, a crowd welcomed him, for they were all expecting him. 41 Then a man named Jairus, a synagogue leader, came and fell at Jesus’ feet, pleading with him to come to his house 42 because his only daughter, a girl of about twelve, was dying.As Jesus was on his way, the crowds almost crushed him. 43 And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years,[a] but no one could heal her. 44 She came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped.
45 “Who touched me?” Jesus asked.
When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing against you.”
46 But Jesus said, “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.”
47 Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. 48 Then he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.” Luke 8: 40-48
We studied this passage in Scripture this Sunday at church; it has always been one of my favorites. In my head I see this woman and cannot describe her without a lump coming to my throat and tears blurring my vision.
She feels bruised and discarded. She walks alone, cast off by a world who cannot fix her, a world who deems her unclean. Rejected. Frightened. Tired. The bleeding her body endures has taken every last bit of energy and strength. Looks of pity, or of disgust, come from those who know her, from a people who does not see her, but instead her ailment. She walks a lonely, hard road; hope has long since fled. She lives a life, daily, of utter hopelessness. Devastating helplessness.
Until one day, she hears about a man, a remarkable man. A man traveling through their region. Curing the sick. Healing the crippled. Fighting hypocrisy and injustice. And a small flame of hope is rekindled in her heart. She holds fast to that hope as she plans to see this man. She plays his name over her lips. Jesus. Could this man help her?
She fights the jostling crowds who have Jesus covered. She can see glimpses of his face through the crowd as she edges closer. She feels panicked, unsure, but knows she must see him. But he is moving with a purpose; she has heard Jairus's request and knows he is on his way to heal another. Yet surely, surely he could heal her too! She desperately, uncharacteristically pushes forward toward the man she knows can help her. No doubt is left in her heart as she nears him. The flame of hope in her heart has fanned into a fire and she reachs out for the tassel on the corner of his garment, knowing that one touch can save her.
Her fingers brush against the fabric and grab hold before she quickly releases his garment and falls back, shock and joy radiant on her face. She feels healing sweep through her body and her bleeding cease. The man named Jesus stops. He searches the crowd, questioning the people, and his gaze falls on her. Love shines from his eyes and he looks at her and hears her story, though he already knows every word. And then he says the one word that heals the wounds that are far deeper than her physical ailment...
"Daughter."
Pure joy rushes through her as he smiles and commends her faith. She is healed. But most of all, she is His.
Friend, whatever situation has you desperate, He knows. No matter how many people tell you that you are beyond hope, He disagrees. He is waiting, beckoning. Asking you to take hold of so much more that the edge of His cloak. To take hold of the life He offers. To be a son or daughter. To be His.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Puzzled
Puzzle pieces.
They are funny things. You start out with a box of misshapen pieces that are eventually formed together to make a beautiful picture. One worthy of saving, framing and displaying on the wall.
Such is life. Right?
Well I always thought so. After...well, let's just say, adventurous, high school and college years, I decided that life needed to make more sense. Add a college diploma, marriage, kids, a house (not necessarily in that order!!) and you have several pieces put together forming a picture. Whew, so a rough start...but we are on our way to putting the pieces of the puzzle together.
But then life happens. Sometimes the puzzle pieces don't fit where they are supposed to. Jobs are lost, loved ones die, others hurt you in very real ways, illness strikes, poverty reigns. Suddenly, instead of adding pieces to the puzzle, you feel as though you are removing pieces, rushing to fit them in a different way. To make things make sense.
So obviously my whole puzzle philosophy had a few glaring errors.
First, people.
Life is all about people. There are a thousand different types of relationships.
And the thing about people? They aren't a puzzle piece to be fit into your puzzle. Some people come into your life and serve you in amazing and unforgettable ways. Some stay. Some go. Some let you down. Actually all will eventually in some way let you down - just as you will in some way let others down in your life. Because people are...well, human. Imperfect humans that can't fill holes in your puzzle. Oh sure, people are undeniably important to the picture that is your life. But we can't base our life story on the changing nature of others. Because only one Person was ever truly unchanging. Which brings me to the next flaw in my original "life is like a puzzle" theory.
Jesus.
You see, in my original puzzle, church was definitely on the list. I think I even threw the Bible in there as an important piece of the puzzle. But see, it was like I was trying to form a life puzzle with a piece or two being about my faith. Yep, pretty impossible...but all too common.
Faith isn't something that you can keep in a box and take out Sunday mornings, and maybe for a mid-week Bible lesson. Nope, faith has to DRENCH all the pieces of your life, spilling over into everything. Relationships - both the easy, natural ones and the harder ones where you have to choose to love. Family life. Work. Every-day decisions. Yep, faith should color all of these pieces. There is no shaping faith or making it fit in a certain box. It simply must be the entirety of your life.
The reality that my puzzle just wasn't going to "make sense" on this side of heaven came hard to me. I want things to make sense! So I took the one piece out of my puzzle that never seemed to change and studied it. Studied Him. I read my Bible. Then read it again. The first few times were tough, let me tell you! But after reading it on my own, attending studies that explained the Word to me and immersing myself in all things Jesus...even the things that don't make sense come a little easier.
Because Jesus is unchanging. He walked this road. He knows how hard human life is. He died so this wouldn't be the end of our road. And as He reigns in heaven, waiting to come back and deliver us for eternity, He intercedes for us in prayer as we traverse our own road.
So my view of the puzzle was replaced by one of a winding road. The road began when I was born. My journey at that point colored by all of those around me most, family, teachers, mentors and friends. Yet, they don't define me. My Jesus does. And I know that He is at the ending point. I know where I am going, where I will end. But in the meantime, I am on this road. The scenery changes. Sometimes there are glorious rainbows and sunshine. Sometimes there is rain, mud splattering on my windshield and roadkill in the ditch. (Okay that part was a little morbid...but I won't delete it!) Because that is reality. That is life. There are turns in the road where we can't even imagine what will be waiting on the other side. Sometimes it is good, sometimes it isn't so great. And sometimes our car stalls on the side of the road. But, when our life and every one of those experiences is covered by the knowledge and power of God...the trip is easier. Because the ending is sure.
I encourage you today to not try to make the puzzle pieces fit (that is my goal for 2011!) Instead, keep your hands on the wheel, lift your voice in praise and drive on. Life doesn't always make sense. But when we reach our goal and our Father gently smiles and tells us "well done"...well, the trip will have been worth it. Amen? Amen.
They are funny things. You start out with a box of misshapen pieces that are eventually formed together to make a beautiful picture. One worthy of saving, framing and displaying on the wall.
Such is life. Right?
Well I always thought so. After...well, let's just say, adventurous, high school and college years, I decided that life needed to make more sense. Add a college diploma, marriage, kids, a house (not necessarily in that order!!) and you have several pieces put together forming a picture. Whew, so a rough start...but we are on our way to putting the pieces of the puzzle together.
But then life happens. Sometimes the puzzle pieces don't fit where they are supposed to. Jobs are lost, loved ones die, others hurt you in very real ways, illness strikes, poverty reigns. Suddenly, instead of adding pieces to the puzzle, you feel as though you are removing pieces, rushing to fit them in a different way. To make things make sense.
So obviously my whole puzzle philosophy had a few glaring errors.
First, people.
Life is all about people. There are a thousand different types of relationships.
And the thing about people? They aren't a puzzle piece to be fit into your puzzle. Some people come into your life and serve you in amazing and unforgettable ways. Some stay. Some go. Some let you down. Actually all will eventually in some way let you down - just as you will in some way let others down in your life. Because people are...well, human. Imperfect humans that can't fill holes in your puzzle. Oh sure, people are undeniably important to the picture that is your life. But we can't base our life story on the changing nature of others. Because only one Person was ever truly unchanging. Which brings me to the next flaw in my original "life is like a puzzle" theory.
Jesus.
You see, in my original puzzle, church was definitely on the list. I think I even threw the Bible in there as an important piece of the puzzle. But see, it was like I was trying to form a life puzzle with a piece or two being about my faith. Yep, pretty impossible...but all too common.
Faith isn't something that you can keep in a box and take out Sunday mornings, and maybe for a mid-week Bible lesson. Nope, faith has to DRENCH all the pieces of your life, spilling over into everything. Relationships - both the easy, natural ones and the harder ones where you have to choose to love. Family life. Work. Every-day decisions. Yep, faith should color all of these pieces. There is no shaping faith or making it fit in a certain box. It simply must be the entirety of your life.
The reality that my puzzle just wasn't going to "make sense" on this side of heaven came hard to me. I want things to make sense! So I took the one piece out of my puzzle that never seemed to change and studied it. Studied Him. I read my Bible. Then read it again. The first few times were tough, let me tell you! But after reading it on my own, attending studies that explained the Word to me and immersing myself in all things Jesus...even the things that don't make sense come a little easier.
Because Jesus is unchanging. He walked this road. He knows how hard human life is. He died so this wouldn't be the end of our road. And as He reigns in heaven, waiting to come back and deliver us for eternity, He intercedes for us in prayer as we traverse our own road.
So my view of the puzzle was replaced by one of a winding road. The road began when I was born. My journey at that point colored by all of those around me most, family, teachers, mentors and friends. Yet, they don't define me. My Jesus does. And I know that He is at the ending point. I know where I am going, where I will end. But in the meantime, I am on this road. The scenery changes. Sometimes there are glorious rainbows and sunshine. Sometimes there is rain, mud splattering on my windshield and roadkill in the ditch. (Okay that part was a little morbid...but I won't delete it!) Because that is reality. That is life. There are turns in the road where we can't even imagine what will be waiting on the other side. Sometimes it is good, sometimes it isn't so great. And sometimes our car stalls on the side of the road. But, when our life and every one of those experiences is covered by the knowledge and power of God...the trip is easier. Because the ending is sure.
I encourage you today to not try to make the puzzle pieces fit (that is my goal for 2011!) Instead, keep your hands on the wheel, lift your voice in praise and drive on. Life doesn't always make sense. But when we reach our goal and our Father gently smiles and tells us "well done"...well, the trip will have been worth it. Amen? Amen.
Monday, November 29, 2010
The Manger Without the Cross
You can't have the manger without the cross.
Jesus Christ came to earth as a baby, dependent on mankind to clothe him and feed him, to care for him and teach him. That the God of the universe would humble Himself to journey the same road we have to travel astounds me. I simply cannot wrap my mind around this fact. He didn't have to come down at all, and he didn't have to come to earth in this way.
But he did. He came down as a baby, tiny and dependent. He grew the same way we grow, each phase and age. He didn't get to skip those first stumbling steps. He had to travel the rough waters of the teenage years. He was sometimes alone. He was sometimes crowded out of any sense of normalcy. He was often misunderstood. Rejected. He walked through human life.
Why? Why did he come down into the humblest of births? (Don't let the cute nativity scenes pictured in books fool you. Joseph and Mary were alone to bring their holy baby into the world. In a stable. There is nothing cute or cuddly about that.)
He came for one sole purpose.
The cross.
He came, lived a very human life, in order that he could take on the full burden of our sins and die on the cross. So when we cry out to him in pain or confusion, he can honestly, tenderly say "I have been there."
This truth hit me anew today. God chose the most humble walk he could...for me. For you. What other truths do I "know" so well (like the story of Christ's birth) that I have become almost desensitized to their significance?
Prayer: It is easy to tell someone you are praying. But true intercession, the kind that moves mountains, takes diligence and being intentional. It take surrendering your time and agenda to be in constant communication with the One who can stop time and agendas!
Faith: It is easy to tell someone to have faith, that 'God works all things for good.' Yet real faith is also intentional. And it is a battle. Because for every seed of faith you have, Satan wants to swoop in and plant instead seeds of doubt and discouragement.
Forgiveness: It is easy to preach forgiveness. After all, we say, God forgives us our sins. But it is quite another to forgive someone while they are hurting you or if they refuse to acknowledge their actions. But Christ doesn't give us conditions on which we can forgive. He simply says, "you must."
Spiritual life: It is easy to accept the fact that God is mighty and has angels to do his bidding. Yet you cannot read the Bible and accept that fact without recognizing that we are living in a fallen world, which is essentially Satan's playground. He breeds hurt, disappointment, death, disease. God is, has and will always overcome. But it is unwise to go into any war without an idea about our enemy. And we do have one here on this earth.
Oh there are so many more truths. Many, many that God wants you to uncover and to live out! But part of the problem is lack of knowledge - we talk about what Jesus would do...but we don't open our Bibles every single day to see what Jesus would do! How many of our philosophies are based on something that isn't even found in Scripture?? The other part of the problem is application. Knowing...but not applying. It does us absolutely no good to study the Word, to pore over Christ's example...if we aren't going to do a thing about it.
You may have this down to an art. I do not. God is daily convicting me that in order to have the priviledge of talking the talk, I must walk the walk. I cannot tell others to forgive, if I am unwilling to do so with abandon! I cannot tell others to pray if I am not diligent and constantly in tune with the Father. I cannot tell someone else to follow Jesus Christ if I am not applying his every direction to my own life.
Jesus Christ came to us, a tiny babe in a manger. The humblest of births.
He then died on the cross. The most sacrificial of deaths.
Oh - but the life he lived in between! Study his days. And model after them.
It's a worthy journey!
Jesus Christ came to earth as a baby, dependent on mankind to clothe him and feed him, to care for him and teach him. That the God of the universe would humble Himself to journey the same road we have to travel astounds me. I simply cannot wrap my mind around this fact. He didn't have to come down at all, and he didn't have to come to earth in this way.
But he did. He came down as a baby, tiny and dependent. He grew the same way we grow, each phase and age. He didn't get to skip those first stumbling steps. He had to travel the rough waters of the teenage years. He was sometimes alone. He was sometimes crowded out of any sense of normalcy. He was often misunderstood. Rejected. He walked through human life.
Why? Why did he come down into the humblest of births? (Don't let the cute nativity scenes pictured in books fool you. Joseph and Mary were alone to bring their holy baby into the world. In a stable. There is nothing cute or cuddly about that.)
He came for one sole purpose.
The cross.
He came, lived a very human life, in order that he could take on the full burden of our sins and die on the cross. So when we cry out to him in pain or confusion, he can honestly, tenderly say "I have been there."
This truth hit me anew today. God chose the most humble walk he could...for me. For you. What other truths do I "know" so well (like the story of Christ's birth) that I have become almost desensitized to their significance?
Prayer: It is easy to tell someone you are praying. But true intercession, the kind that moves mountains, takes diligence and being intentional. It take surrendering your time and agenda to be in constant communication with the One who can stop time and agendas!
Faith: It is easy to tell someone to have faith, that 'God works all things for good.' Yet real faith is also intentional. And it is a battle. Because for every seed of faith you have, Satan wants to swoop in and plant instead seeds of doubt and discouragement.
Forgiveness: It is easy to preach forgiveness. After all, we say, God forgives us our sins. But it is quite another to forgive someone while they are hurting you or if they refuse to acknowledge their actions. But Christ doesn't give us conditions on which we can forgive. He simply says, "you must."
Spiritual life: It is easy to accept the fact that God is mighty and has angels to do his bidding. Yet you cannot read the Bible and accept that fact without recognizing that we are living in a fallen world, which is essentially Satan's playground. He breeds hurt, disappointment, death, disease. God is, has and will always overcome. But it is unwise to go into any war without an idea about our enemy. And we do have one here on this earth.
Oh there are so many more truths. Many, many that God wants you to uncover and to live out! But part of the problem is lack of knowledge - we talk about what Jesus would do...but we don't open our Bibles every single day to see what Jesus would do! How many of our philosophies are based on something that isn't even found in Scripture?? The other part of the problem is application. Knowing...but not applying. It does us absolutely no good to study the Word, to pore over Christ's example...if we aren't going to do a thing about it.
You may have this down to an art. I do not. God is daily convicting me that in order to have the priviledge of talking the talk, I must walk the walk. I cannot tell others to forgive, if I am unwilling to do so with abandon! I cannot tell others to pray if I am not diligent and constantly in tune with the Father. I cannot tell someone else to follow Jesus Christ if I am not applying his every direction to my own life.
Jesus Christ came to us, a tiny babe in a manger. The humblest of births.
He then died on the cross. The most sacrificial of deaths.
Oh - but the life he lived in between! Study his days. And model after them.
It's a worthy journey!
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Growing Pains
When I was little, my mom contributed any complaint of pain - no matter its origin - to "growing pains."
Me: "Mom, my legs hurt."
Mom: "It's okay, honey. It's just growing pains. Go lay quietly and read a book."
Me: "Oh, Mom! My stomach really hurts."
Mom: "Sweetie, it's just growing pains. Go lie down and read a book."
Me: "Um, Mom?? I'm bleeding profusely."
Mom: "It'll be okay, Nicki. It's just growing pains. Grab your book and rest a little."
Okay, I am in jest. If I was bleeding, Mom would not have told me to lie down; she would've definitely wanted me to stand...over the linoleum where I wouldn't stain anything. Okay, I'm still joking. (Mom, I miss you and can see you right now, shaking your head and sighing, "Nicki, Nicki, Nicki"...but you'd be smiling inside!)
But in reality, for a freakishly large girl, even as a child towering over boys and girls alike, I went through my periods of growing pains. I gratefully left those days behind me, thankfully topping out at 6'3". I thought my growing days (upwards at least!) were behind me.
But lately, I have been feeling strangely familiar pangs.
And I am pretty sure they are growing pains.
But instead, they are now pains of the heart and soul. I think God is growing me.
As I daily study His Word, talk with Him and abide in Him, He grows me. He stretches me. And sometimes, I feel growing pains. My heart hurts. As I shed old ways, my heart hurts. As I break old habits, there is some pain. As I stop defending myself, I hurt at the thought of what others think of me.
Growing pains.
There are times when I make huge strides, through the grace of God alone. And many times those periods of growth and understanding are followed by times of trial and testing.
Growing pains.
There are times I renew my life to Christ, knowing anew that my worth is in Him alone. That He is the only Judge I will answer to. My words and actions need to align with His Word. But when the Truth I am gaining from His Word comes against the world, even those I love, I hurt.
Growing pains.
When I was little, I would stand exasperated staring at my mother when she would utter those words "growing pains." What did that mean? Well, to be honest, I'm still not really sure. Yet I know that without growth, I wouldn't be where I am today. Obviously, growth is vital for the human body.
But what about the soul?
Of course we should grow. If we stayed as infants spiritually, how sad that would be! We might escape the growing pains that come from aligning our life with Christ. Yet, I am without doubt that we would continue to feel more and more pain and helplessness.
So Lord, grow me. Stretch me. When I think I've got it, test me. But most of all then, cover me.
And I can see that beautiful mama of mine from her lofty perch in Heaven, smiling down at me. Even when there are times my heart hurts and my soul thirsts. Even as I reach moments when I cry out that I cannot take another test. Even when the littlest things send me tearfully to my knees. Even then, I think she is smiling as I like to imagine my Jesus doing, saying, "It's okay, child. You are just feeling growing pains."
Me: "Mom, my legs hurt."
Mom: "It's okay, honey. It's just growing pains. Go lay quietly and read a book."
Me: "Oh, Mom! My stomach really hurts."
Mom: "Sweetie, it's just growing pains. Go lie down and read a book."
Me: "Um, Mom?? I'm bleeding profusely."
Mom: "It'll be okay, Nicki. It's just growing pains. Grab your book and rest a little."
Okay, I am in jest. If I was bleeding, Mom would not have told me to lie down; she would've definitely wanted me to stand...over the linoleum where I wouldn't stain anything. Okay, I'm still joking. (Mom, I miss you and can see you right now, shaking your head and sighing, "Nicki, Nicki, Nicki"...but you'd be smiling inside!)
But in reality, for a freakishly large girl, even as a child towering over boys and girls alike, I went through my periods of growing pains. I gratefully left those days behind me, thankfully topping out at 6'3". I thought my growing days (upwards at least!) were behind me.
But lately, I have been feeling strangely familiar pangs.
And I am pretty sure they are growing pains.
But instead, they are now pains of the heart and soul. I think God is growing me.
As I daily study His Word, talk with Him and abide in Him, He grows me. He stretches me. And sometimes, I feel growing pains. My heart hurts. As I shed old ways, my heart hurts. As I break old habits, there is some pain. As I stop defending myself, I hurt at the thought of what others think of me.
Growing pains.
There are times when I make huge strides, through the grace of God alone. And many times those periods of growth and understanding are followed by times of trial and testing.
Growing pains.
There are times I renew my life to Christ, knowing anew that my worth is in Him alone. That He is the only Judge I will answer to. My words and actions need to align with His Word. But when the Truth I am gaining from His Word comes against the world, even those I love, I hurt.
Growing pains.
When I was little, I would stand exasperated staring at my mother when she would utter those words "growing pains." What did that mean? Well, to be honest, I'm still not really sure. Yet I know that without growth, I wouldn't be where I am today. Obviously, growth is vital for the human body.
But what about the soul?
Of course we should grow. If we stayed as infants spiritually, how sad that would be! We might escape the growing pains that come from aligning our life with Christ. Yet, I am without doubt that we would continue to feel more and more pain and helplessness.
So Lord, grow me. Stretch me. When I think I've got it, test me. But most of all then, cover me.
And I can see that beautiful mama of mine from her lofty perch in Heaven, smiling down at me. Even when there are times my heart hurts and my soul thirsts. Even as I reach moments when I cry out that I cannot take another test. Even when the littlest things send me tearfully to my knees. Even then, I think she is smiling as I like to imagine my Jesus doing, saying, "It's okay, child. You are just feeling growing pains."
Thursday, November 18, 2010
On the Way to Broken
For a brief moment today, I got it.
I took an incident and turned it over to God. Just quietly hung my head and said, "Lord, I don't have this. I can't do it. You can. Please work through me. Help me abide in You and be led by the Spirit in me."
And the strangest thing happened.
Calm rushed over me. Peace filled my veins. No, I don't have the answer. But it doesn't matter. God isn't asking me to. He is asking me to simply lean on Him.
Oh, what utter relief!
So this is what they mean by brokenness. Utter dependence on the only One who can meet our every need.
That is a hard thing to accept. None of us really wants to be dependent on anyone for anything - much less everything.
Oh, but that brief taste of relief when I handed it over to Him! When I stopped analyzing. Stopped questioning my role. Stopped trying to figure out how to fix. He spoke so clearly to my soul.
Just be still.
You don't have to please anyone else.
Keep your focus on Me.
Quit worrying so much about what those around you think.
In fact, over and over, God has pointed me to the same Scripture this week, through different devotions and books I am reading. Amazing how He works in themes in my life! I was pointed to Paul's words as he explains that he is only accountable to His Father, no one else:
This may be very elementary to you. But it is groundbreaking for me. The simplest of ideas has finally clicked for me.
I will never fully please my Father, until I stop worrying about everything and everyone else around me. If I put Him first, His will before all else, He will always guide me in the way to go. And it will be the right way.
And this is scary! To be utterly dependent on God means that those around us very much may not understand us. It means that sometimes, though He helps us stand, we may be standing alone, in an earthly sense.
I have fought utter brokenness, Even as I am doing all I can to get to the point of just leaning on God, I am doing it in my own power. I am trying to manifest dependence on God. When I need to simply be leaning on Him like a small child.
I tend to act as my smallest child. Mollie, at two years of age, wants very badly to be independent. When she is frustrated or tired, she may cry out for my help while trying her hardest to fix for herself whatever has her frustrated. And she is mad that she needs my help and fights against my efforts.
How I resemble that when I fight so much for control even as I am trying to hand the reigns over to God. I hand them over, then hurriedly grab them back, shouting, "No I can do it myself!"
Instead I want to model after Mollie, when she comes to me, wide-eyed and trusting. When she hands something over to me and sweetly, sometimes resignedly, says, "Mommy, help pwease."
I want to be dependent on God for my every need. To overcome the pull of my emotions. The pull of the world. The pull of what is considered normal and common sense. I want to worry only about the opinion of the One who is judging not just my actions, but the motives of my heart. How silly to be so concerned with the opinions of those around me that I am ignoring the pull of my Heavenly Father's arms and desire to lead me through this life.
Yes, I am on my way to broken...but the thing is, I didn't find the devastation I imagined. When I handed it all over to my Father, in that moment, I felt peace and joy.
Lord, make that brief moment one of many.
I took an incident and turned it over to God. Just quietly hung my head and said, "Lord, I don't have this. I can't do it. You can. Please work through me. Help me abide in You and be led by the Spirit in me."
And the strangest thing happened.
Calm rushed over me. Peace filled my veins. No, I don't have the answer. But it doesn't matter. God isn't asking me to. He is asking me to simply lean on Him.
Oh, what utter relief!
So this is what they mean by brokenness. Utter dependence on the only One who can meet our every need.
That is a hard thing to accept. None of us really wants to be dependent on anyone for anything - much less everything.
Oh, but that brief taste of relief when I handed it over to Him! When I stopped analyzing. Stopped questioning my role. Stopped trying to figure out how to fix. He spoke so clearly to my soul.
Just be still.
You don't have to please anyone else.
Keep your focus on Me.
Quit worrying so much about what those around you think.
In fact, over and over, God has pointed me to the same Scripture this week, through different devotions and books I am reading. Amazing how He works in themes in my life! I was pointed to Paul's words as he explains that he is only accountable to His Father, no one else:
1 Corinthians 4
The Nature of True Apostleship
1 This, then, is how you ought to regard us: as servants of Christ and as those entrusted with the mysteries God has revealed. 2 Now it is required that those who have been given a trust must prove faithful. 3 I care very little if I am judged by you or by any human court; indeed, I do not even judge myself. 4 My conscience is clear, but that does not make me innocent. It is the Lord who judges me. 5 Therefore judge nothing before the appointed time; wait until the Lord comes. He will bring to light what is hidden in darkness and will expose the motives of the heart. At that time each will receive their praise from God.This may be very elementary to you. But it is groundbreaking for me. The simplest of ideas has finally clicked for me.
I will never fully please my Father, until I stop worrying about everything and everyone else around me. If I put Him first, His will before all else, He will always guide me in the way to go. And it will be the right way.
And this is scary! To be utterly dependent on God means that those around us very much may not understand us. It means that sometimes, though He helps us stand, we may be standing alone, in an earthly sense.
I have fought utter brokenness, Even as I am doing all I can to get to the point of just leaning on God, I am doing it in my own power. I am trying to manifest dependence on God. When I need to simply be leaning on Him like a small child.
I tend to act as my smallest child. Mollie, at two years of age, wants very badly to be independent. When she is frustrated or tired, she may cry out for my help while trying her hardest to fix for herself whatever has her frustrated. And she is mad that she needs my help and fights against my efforts.
How I resemble that when I fight so much for control even as I am trying to hand the reigns over to God. I hand them over, then hurriedly grab them back, shouting, "No I can do it myself!"
Instead I want to model after Mollie, when she comes to me, wide-eyed and trusting. When she hands something over to me and sweetly, sometimes resignedly, says, "Mommy, help pwease."
I want to be dependent on God for my every need. To overcome the pull of my emotions. The pull of the world. The pull of what is considered normal and common sense. I want to worry only about the opinion of the One who is judging not just my actions, but the motives of my heart. How silly to be so concerned with the opinions of those around me that I am ignoring the pull of my Heavenly Father's arms and desire to lead me through this life.
Yes, I am on my way to broken...but the thing is, I didn't find the devastation I imagined. When I handed it all over to my Father, in that moment, I felt peace and joy.
Lord, make that brief moment one of many.
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
The Bridge
I am terrified of bridges. Terrified. My heart starts pounding. My breath catches in my throat. Black dots dance across my vision as I struggle to remain upright. Ooooh, just the thought of the last time I was on a bridge makes my stomach drop to my knees. (And it does not matter that this bridge was barely off the ground, sitting over a trickle of water no deeper than my bathtub.)
As I contemplate this silly fear, I realize that it isn't really the bridge that scares me.
The roaring water underneath scares me.
The gaps in the bridge scare me.
The fear of one of my children falling scares me.
The feeling of lack of control scares me.
But the bridge remains steady.
I can't help but notice the parallel to my life.
Jesus is my bridge. But when I take my eyes off Him, I stare into the rapids below me. I feel my head getting light as those dots start dancing again, skittering across my field of vision. Suddenly, I don't even see the bridge anymore. I just see the rapids. I hear the roaring of muddied waters. People who are mad. Situations out of my control. Financial fears. Bills. Cleaning. My to-do list. Job-related fears. I see my children, leaning over the edge. My heart pounds as I wonder if I am doing all I can to keep them safe. At times it feels like surely the roaring waters will reach them, will drown out my solitary voice. I see gaps. Now I know there are no gaps in Jesus Himself. But my theology and knowledge have big gaping holes and question marks.
But if I focus on the bridge, focus on Jesus, truth starts to align itself in my mind, overcoming the dots blurring my vision. My children may be looking around, growing, but they are on the bridge. They know intuitively that the bridge, that Jesus, is their place of safety.
Those gaps, those burning questions, seeds of doubt...they are nothing compared to the overall structure, picture of the bridge. No, rather, they are driving forces holding me accountable, reminding me that I have so much more to learn. Reminding me to stay ever close to the Father as I communicate to Him daily, sometimes hourly or minute-by-minute!
I grab the rail, hold on to my Bible, anchoring myself to the bridge. Suddenly I realize that the water is mostly noise. I realize that the bridge is supporting me, all of me. I see that my family skips fearlessly along the wooden planks, relishing in being up so high - yet feeling so safe.
I fully accept that I do not have control. I don't have control of the bridge (who would want to control our Jesus, awesome and mighty is He!). And I surely don't have control over all the noise of the water swirling around me. But I don't need to. I simply need to remember that the bridge will hold me and to not focus on the rest.
Suddenly it doesn't seem so terrifying.
But don't get me started on my fear of squirrels and rabbits. I have yet to find a biblical analogy for that!
As I contemplate this silly fear, I realize that it isn't really the bridge that scares me.
The roaring water underneath scares me.
The gaps in the bridge scare me.
The fear of one of my children falling scares me.
The feeling of lack of control scares me.
But the bridge remains steady.
I can't help but notice the parallel to my life.
Jesus is my bridge. But when I take my eyes off Him, I stare into the rapids below me. I feel my head getting light as those dots start dancing again, skittering across my field of vision. Suddenly, I don't even see the bridge anymore. I just see the rapids. I hear the roaring of muddied waters. People who are mad. Situations out of my control. Financial fears. Bills. Cleaning. My to-do list. Job-related fears. I see my children, leaning over the edge. My heart pounds as I wonder if I am doing all I can to keep them safe. At times it feels like surely the roaring waters will reach them, will drown out my solitary voice. I see gaps. Now I know there are no gaps in Jesus Himself. But my theology and knowledge have big gaping holes and question marks.
But if I focus on the bridge, focus on Jesus, truth starts to align itself in my mind, overcoming the dots blurring my vision. My children may be looking around, growing, but they are on the bridge. They know intuitively that the bridge, that Jesus, is their place of safety.
Those gaps, those burning questions, seeds of doubt...they are nothing compared to the overall structure, picture of the bridge. No, rather, they are driving forces holding me accountable, reminding me that I have so much more to learn. Reminding me to stay ever close to the Father as I communicate to Him daily, sometimes hourly or minute-by-minute!
I grab the rail, hold on to my Bible, anchoring myself to the bridge. Suddenly I realize that the water is mostly noise. I realize that the bridge is supporting me, all of me. I see that my family skips fearlessly along the wooden planks, relishing in being up so high - yet feeling so safe.
I fully accept that I do not have control. I don't have control of the bridge (who would want to control our Jesus, awesome and mighty is He!). And I surely don't have control over all the noise of the water swirling around me. But I don't need to. I simply need to remember that the bridge will hold me and to not focus on the rest.
Suddenly it doesn't seem so terrifying.
But don't get me started on my fear of squirrels and rabbits. I have yet to find a biblical analogy for that!
To Be Like Him
I am deeply broken and humbled tonight.
I struggle with many, many things in my Walk (which means you will read many, many blogs!) But one of the things I've struggled with most is forgiveness. Does forgiving mean forgetting? Is forgiving someone's mistakes, condoning those mistakes? And how do you forgive someone who keeps making the same offense over and over; isn't that when you just cut ties?
So I decided (in my spiritual laziness, my Bible unopened by my side) to 'google' "verses on forgiveness." I expected to see the usual (forgive your brother, give mercy if you want the same mercy from your Father in heaven, etc.) Was I humbled by what I saw.
In my first search, every verse was about God's forgiveness and mercy towards me. Verse after verse painted beautiful promises of His unconditional, radical love for me. A love that covers all offenses. When He looks at me, He sees me pure and white - in the midst of this messy, sin-filled life I live.
I can only respond in utter gratitude and unworthiness. Yet it is still hard for me to remember that He sees those who hurt me, sin against me, in the same way.
And another picture comes to mind.
A man. Bleeding. Falling. Thorns upon His head. Heavy wooden beams across His back. Men spitting, jeering, mocking. Cruel laughter. Insult after insult. Lies.
Disciples scattered. Mother sobbing. The faithful following, shocked, horrified at the turn of events.
Over their sobbing rings loud, raucous laughter. One man slaps another on the back, grinning maliciously as our Lord stumbles. Dirt and small rocks stick to the bloodied slashes that cover His once strong, upright frame.
As they reach their destination, they swiftly and crudely nail Him to the wooden beams. His cry of pain is not heard over the loud cheering and taunting. As they raise Him to the air for all to see His disgrace, they add written words to mock Him yet more.
Pain-filled eyes scan the crowd. A mob of people look on, some with eyes adverted while others gaze on with the dumbstruck air of one who has witnessed catastrophy. A small crowd of women hold on to each other, sobbing profusely, covering His mother in tears and love. Loud men continue to scorn and mock, ridiculing this Man.
One word.
That is all it would have taken. He could have called down legions of angels. He could have manifested power greater than we could imagine in our wildest dreams. He could have been delivered. He could have bloodied the same men who stood leering at Him with the bloodlust of the wicked.
He did cry out.
But not for justification. Not for vengence. Not to show them how wrong they all were. No. Instead His words stop my blood cold.
"And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do ..." Luke 23:34
Know not what they do??? They continually spit in His face, beat Him, purposefully NAILED Him to a cross. And He cries out not for justification? Not for revenge? Not to try one more time to get them to see His point of view?
More bone-chilling is their response. Surely at this point, they realize they have done wrong. This is a holy man. But no. The second part of Luke 23:34:
"And they cast lots to divide his garments."
I imagine that He can barely utter words, yet cried out for their forgiveness as He hangs dying, His body broken and bleeding. All sin of man taken unto Himself as His Father has to turn away. And He cried out for their forgiveness.
And they cast lots for His clothes.
Oh, Father! How arrogant am I? That I think there are statutes or limitations on what I can bear?!! You took on MY sin. Died the most painful, humiliating death so that I would not suffer eternal death. And I want to know at what point I can quit trying and write off someone who hurts me? Forgive me, Father. I most obviously, know not what I do. Lord, as I am ready to hurl the first stone at another, please give me a glimpse of myself, no matter how painful. That I might remember:
"“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye."
Matthew 7:1-5
But most of all, might I remember that my own sin was the very sin that made it so that You were nailed up on that cross. Might I always see Your risen self...but never forget that before You rose, You died. For me.
And never, in the face of Your sacrifice, will I dismiss it and instead "cast lots for your clothing." No, may I stand, without adverting my eyes, and take in all that You sacrificed for me. And live a life worthy of that sacrifice. Oh, please help me to honor You.
I struggle with many, many things in my Walk (which means you will read many, many blogs!) But one of the things I've struggled with most is forgiveness. Does forgiving mean forgetting? Is forgiving someone's mistakes, condoning those mistakes? And how do you forgive someone who keeps making the same offense over and over; isn't that when you just cut ties?
So I decided (in my spiritual laziness, my Bible unopened by my side) to 'google' "verses on forgiveness." I expected to see the usual (forgive your brother, give mercy if you want the same mercy from your Father in heaven, etc.) Was I humbled by what I saw.
In my first search, every verse was about God's forgiveness and mercy towards me. Verse after verse painted beautiful promises of His unconditional, radical love for me. A love that covers all offenses. When He looks at me, He sees me pure and white - in the midst of this messy, sin-filled life I live.
I can only respond in utter gratitude and unworthiness. Yet it is still hard for me to remember that He sees those who hurt me, sin against me, in the same way.
And another picture comes to mind.
A man. Bleeding. Falling. Thorns upon His head. Heavy wooden beams across His back. Men spitting, jeering, mocking. Cruel laughter. Insult after insult. Lies.
Disciples scattered. Mother sobbing. The faithful following, shocked, horrified at the turn of events.
Over their sobbing rings loud, raucous laughter. One man slaps another on the back, grinning maliciously as our Lord stumbles. Dirt and small rocks stick to the bloodied slashes that cover His once strong, upright frame.
As they reach their destination, they swiftly and crudely nail Him to the wooden beams. His cry of pain is not heard over the loud cheering and taunting. As they raise Him to the air for all to see His disgrace, they add written words to mock Him yet more.
Pain-filled eyes scan the crowd. A mob of people look on, some with eyes adverted while others gaze on with the dumbstruck air of one who has witnessed catastrophy. A small crowd of women hold on to each other, sobbing profusely, covering His mother in tears and love. Loud men continue to scorn and mock, ridiculing this Man.
One word.
That is all it would have taken. He could have called down legions of angels. He could have manifested power greater than we could imagine in our wildest dreams. He could have been delivered. He could have bloodied the same men who stood leering at Him with the bloodlust of the wicked.
He did cry out.
But not for justification. Not for vengence. Not to show them how wrong they all were. No. Instead His words stop my blood cold.
"And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do ..." Luke 23:34
Know not what they do??? They continually spit in His face, beat Him, purposefully NAILED Him to a cross. And He cries out not for justification? Not for revenge? Not to try one more time to get them to see His point of view?
More bone-chilling is their response. Surely at this point, they realize they have done wrong. This is a holy man. But no. The second part of Luke 23:34:
"And they cast lots to divide his garments."
I imagine that He can barely utter words, yet cried out for their forgiveness as He hangs dying, His body broken and bleeding. All sin of man taken unto Himself as His Father has to turn away. And He cried out for their forgiveness.
And they cast lots for His clothes.
Oh, Father! How arrogant am I? That I think there are statutes or limitations on what I can bear?!! You took on MY sin. Died the most painful, humiliating death so that I would not suffer eternal death. And I want to know at what point I can quit trying and write off someone who hurts me? Forgive me, Father. I most obviously, know not what I do. Lord, as I am ready to hurl the first stone at another, please give me a glimpse of myself, no matter how painful. That I might remember:
"“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye."
Matthew 7:1-5
But most of all, might I remember that my own sin was the very sin that made it so that You were nailed up on that cross. Might I always see Your risen self...but never forget that before You rose, You died. For me.
And never, in the face of Your sacrifice, will I dismiss it and instead "cast lots for your clothing." No, may I stand, without adverting my eyes, and take in all that You sacrificed for me. And live a life worthy of that sacrifice. Oh, please help me to honor You.
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