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.
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
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.
Monday, November 8, 2010
The Great Balancing Act
So there seems to be a theme in my life today. Well, most days really.
"The Great Balancing Act."
In this world, it seems like everything hangs in the balance, and the trick is finding the middle ground. I can think of about a hundred examples without even trying very hard, but I am going to concentrate on some biblical principles for a moment.
There is a balance to be found between accountability and grace. There are times to firmly hold someone accountable and there are times to extend grace. If you are constantly trudging through life, sword drawn, believing it is your job and your job alone to hold every person accountable...you are going to end up pretty lonely. And I am pretty sure that God didn't ask any one of us to be solely responsible for bringing every person to account. Yet, if we stroll through life, extending grace in every situation to every person...well, most likely - in this fallen world - we are going to be compromising our values, God's statutes. He didn't ask us to always have our sword drawn, but He does ask us to hold firm to His plans, His virtues and His unerring Word.
This can carry directly over into parenting. I have to find that balance between disciplining and molding these children God has given me for a time, with being a picture of God's grace and showing them mercy too. This is a hard balance. I tend to see everything they do wrong. Or because I am tired, extending a half-hearted, wishy-washy discipline. I am pretty sure there is only one Parent, our heavenly One, who can get that balance right.
Or the balance between guarding our hearts...and having hard hearts. God needs us to be open and forgiving yet that doesn't mean He wants us to let everyone walk all over us. Yet, He doesn't want us to have such calloused hearts that we become unforgiving or unrelenting. I can't believe He wants walls erected shutting out people.
How about the balance...or in this case, the difference, between Godly sorrow/conviction and guilt and shame instilled by Satan? Satan wants us to live in defeat, and one of the ways he keeps us there is by getting us into pits of dispair, guilt and shame. Godly conviction shows us a realistic picture of ourselves and our actions but then tells us this is why Jesus did what He did for us. So we can overcome our shortcomings.
Whew, I've mentioned less than a handful, and I am already tired and overwhelmed! And for me this is the hardest part. Knowing that I can't probably get this one right this side of heaven. I won't ever have this all down to an art. Each day, I have to wake up and pray for the leading of the Spirit as I start my day. In each and every situation (today and the rest of my life), I am going to have to ask God for His leading and support. This is surrender. A knowing that I will always need to be surrendered and that daily I will have to lay situations and feelings down at His feet.
So I guess that means I can't ever have this big balancing act under control. But the reassuring part is...He not only can - He already does. And praise God for that! I can lay all of these balls I am juggling at His feet and rest. But because my arms are now open wide, I can hold onto Him and the Word He's given me to navigate this tricky life.
Now that's balance.
"The Great Balancing Act."
In this world, it seems like everything hangs in the balance, and the trick is finding the middle ground. I can think of about a hundred examples without even trying very hard, but I am going to concentrate on some biblical principles for a moment.
There is a balance to be found between accountability and grace. There are times to firmly hold someone accountable and there are times to extend grace. If you are constantly trudging through life, sword drawn, believing it is your job and your job alone to hold every person accountable...you are going to end up pretty lonely. And I am pretty sure that God didn't ask any one of us to be solely responsible for bringing every person to account. Yet, if we stroll through life, extending grace in every situation to every person...well, most likely - in this fallen world - we are going to be compromising our values, God's statutes. He didn't ask us to always have our sword drawn, but He does ask us to hold firm to His plans, His virtues and His unerring Word.
This can carry directly over into parenting. I have to find that balance between disciplining and molding these children God has given me for a time, with being a picture of God's grace and showing them mercy too. This is a hard balance. I tend to see everything they do wrong. Or because I am tired, extending a half-hearted, wishy-washy discipline. I am pretty sure there is only one Parent, our heavenly One, who can get that balance right.
Or the balance between guarding our hearts...and having hard hearts. God needs us to be open and forgiving yet that doesn't mean He wants us to let everyone walk all over us. Yet, He doesn't want us to have such calloused hearts that we become unforgiving or unrelenting. I can't believe He wants walls erected shutting out people.
How about the balance...or in this case, the difference, between Godly sorrow/conviction and guilt and shame instilled by Satan? Satan wants us to live in defeat, and one of the ways he keeps us there is by getting us into pits of dispair, guilt and shame. Godly conviction shows us a realistic picture of ourselves and our actions but then tells us this is why Jesus did what He did for us. So we can overcome our shortcomings.
Whew, I've mentioned less than a handful, and I am already tired and overwhelmed! And for me this is the hardest part. Knowing that I can't probably get this one right this side of heaven. I won't ever have this all down to an art. Each day, I have to wake up and pray for the leading of the Spirit as I start my day. In each and every situation (today and the rest of my life), I am going to have to ask God for His leading and support. This is surrender. A knowing that I will always need to be surrendered and that daily I will have to lay situations and feelings down at His feet.
So I guess that means I can't ever have this big balancing act under control. But the reassuring part is...He not only can - He already does. And praise God for that! I can lay all of these balls I am juggling at His feet and rest. But because my arms are now open wide, I can hold onto Him and the Word He's given me to navigate this tricky life.
Now that's balance.
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