How Covenant Keeps us going

I recently went to the wedding of a young friend I’ve known since she was a skinny eight-year-old. She is now 27. The wedding was beautiful in both its simplicity and its message....

You can read the rest of this post at Grace Church's website. 

How God Used Me

If I were a real blogger, here's how things would have gone down:

After my initial posts about my invitation to travel with She is Safe, I would have shared regular updates chronicling my thoughts and the process of preparing to go halfway around the world.  Instead, what I will offer (I hope) is an after-the-fact processing of the journey.

Since I'm still waiting for my brain to get home from Myanmar, this will likely come in scattered snippets (mostly because that's how it's coming to me).

After reading my last post about the trip, I recognize a major shift that has occurred in my thinking and my "justification" for going.  As you can imagine, it's not cheap to travel more than halfway around the globe, and most of my turmoil while preparing for the trip was using the generous contributions of other people to fund a trip on which I had no clear role.   It's incredibly awkward to be asked, "So what will you be doing in Myanmar?" when the only honest answer is, "I don't really know."

After reading Helping Without Hurting, I was able to have a certain degree of peace, but that was mainly because I felt that even if I didn't know what my job was on this trip, God did.  I felt a sense of anticipation about seeing how God would use me.

Now I'm back, and do you know what?  He didn't.  I can probably kiss any future fundraising for trips goodbye with this statement, but God had no use for me on this trip--and I am completely okay with it.

Here's what I've discovered: Sometimes God puts a fire in a person's heart and gives a vision, a purpose, a passion, and a commission to carry out a task.  In fact, on this trip I was privileged to travel with two such people and meet several more.

In my case, however, I don't know that this was a commissioning event or an issuing of a grand task--at least not right now.  Rather, I had the very humbling yet liberating sense in Myanmar that He was just inviting me along to learn and gain some understanding of how He's working there.

He didn't want to use me, He wanted to show me.

I'm not sure if I can articulate what a gift it was during a spiritually lonely and frustrating season to feel that the God of the Universe just wanted me with Him, as a child and a friend, to watch Him work and feel His love for all people.

So, I guess my first take-away is for all of us goal-oriented Americans with a hidden hero complex and a need to perform:

It's okay--vital even--just to be the sidekick sometimes.

Eighteen: To my Beloved Atheist:

Note: While it is written to an atheist, I challenge Christians--myself included--to read this letter as if it were written to them.  Because we are just as prone to the attitudes I am addressing here. 

It is not written to a specific person, but rather to a compilation of many people whom I love and who have deeply held beliefs that are different from mine.  I use the term atheist, but it could just as easily have been a person who passionately holds any belief system that is different from mine, be it religious, educational, political, or nutritional.  We have become such a culture of critics and--to use a technical term--side-takers. This is my attempt to offer a better way.

To My Beloved Atheist:

I read the following phrase yesterday:

"There's plenty of space here for differences and disagreements, but I will not save room at the table for aggression or harassment, I won't respond to condescension."--Jamie Wright

I almost shouted, "YES!"

Yet here I go, about to respond to condescension, albeit unintended.  I respond not to win an argument, because I don't believe I can. I am not intellectual enough nor self-assured enough to match wits with you, and we both are too deeply passionate about our beliefs.

My kids' logic book would classify it as a stupid argument: one that cannot be won because neither party can be swayed.  First of all, the key point of difference in our beliefs is one that cannot be empirically proven.  I can show you scientific reasons for why I believe there is a Creator, and you can give me scientific reasons why you believe there isn't.  However, I cannot PROVE to you there's a God, and you can't PROVE to me there isn't.  So why fight about it?

I don't want to.

I would, however, like to invite you to take a peek at my perspective.  Whether it is right or wrong is not the point of this conversation.  It is just my perspective, and I'm not sure you've ever considered it.

When you proclaim your beliefs, it is often from a stance that feels very confrontational, with the implied suggestion--if not declaration--that anyone who disagrees is an idiot. Or delusional.

I know you love me and would never tell me to my face that I am a simpleton.  Yet you ridicule my beliefs to rooms full of people with me standing there; you shout your disdain across the Internet, knowing I'm out there somewhere, living a life based on what you mock.

You don't mean to say that I am stupid.  Just people who think like me.

It doesn't offend (okay, maybe it does); mainly it hurts.

I know, Christians can be just as gifted at condescension as atheists, as can passionate Republicans, Democrats, vegans, gun owners, or gun-control advocates... you get the picture. Maybe we all have surrounded ourselves so completely with like-minded people that we forget that not everyone is like-minded, and so we scorn some imaginary "others" whom we never consider wounding because they are a caricature, not a person.

I don't know.

I do know we all need to be nicer, and put a real face to that other, that fool, we are ridiculing. So next time you feel the urge to speak or write something belittling Christians, I would like you to picture my face, and write as if you are saying it about me. 

Because you are.

While I don't want to argue whose beliefs are RIGHT, I do think it's helpful to listen more than we speak.  Even more, we need to listen to understand, not to simply to respond.  I would be happy to share with you why I believe what I do, if you are ever curious and think you could listen and be open to the possibility that a person can be rational, sane, and even intelligent, and yet arrive at a different conclusion than you did.  I would also love to hear what reasons you have for why you believe as you do, and with such passion. You're very clear about what you believe, but I don't feel like I know what led you to your set of convictions.

If we could let go of the need to convince one another long enough to hear each other, it might be a beautiful conversation.

The other point I'd like to offer some perspective on is one of motives.

You are often rather evangelistic in your proclamation of your beliefs. Whether you intend it or not, when you forcefully pronounce the superiority of your faith in no god, I feel very much as if you are trying to convert me, to get me to renounce my faith and turn to yours.  Any why not? Christians are pretty enthusiastic about converting others to their faith.  It's only fair.

Except here's the question I have always had: Why is it so important that I don't believe?  If you convince me, how is that better for me?

If I understand correctly, you believe we are products of chance, life is what it is and nothing guides or influences it other than the actors in the play.  We are on our own.  Let's even assume you are right about this.  How does it benefit my life, how is it better for me to believe it?  I can cling to my very satisfying delusion and when my life is over be none the wiser.  Delusion or not, if there is no God, and this is all there is, then I'll be too dead to be disappointed if I'm wrong.

On the other hand, if I concede that you are right and reject my faith to believe as you do--I will have turned away from my hope, my purpose, my meaning, and my joy.  Sure, I have might been wrong about it all, but what difference will it make in the grand scheme of things?  If what you believe is true, why do you feel the need to convert me--particularly if my "delusion" encourages me to love others, live humbly, give generously and fight injustice?  It doesn't feel like your motives are loving if you would take that away and offer nothingness in return.

Now humor me and try to imagine I am right.  Remember we're not debating if I'm right or not, we're going for understanding of my motives. Suspend your disbelief for a moment and pretend that what I believe is actually the truth...

What I believe is that we were created to be in relationship with a holy and loving God. Consequently, it follows that by not believing, you are rejecting him and missing out good things.  Ultimate things, actually, and I want good for you.  Furthermore, I believe that this life is not all there is, and that if you reject God during this lifetime, there are pretty serious and eternal consequences--the very least of which is spending forever with no way to feel love, joy, or satisfaction--and acutely, eternally aware of the loss.

So think about this: even if that is impossible to believe, can you at least appreciate why it would be important to me to let you know about what I believe?  Can you see that even if it makes you uncomfortable, or embarrassed or annoyed,  the motive behind the sharing of my faith is a loving one?  If I love you, and if I really believe what I say I do, then I'd have to be some kind of a jerk not to at least try to make you aware.

In fact, I should probably apologize for not trying harder.

Sixteen: For My Girls

The other day as she was making a rare appearance at home, my almost 20-year-old was cleaning her room and chatting about her friends.  (THANK YOU, Jesus, for these friends!)  Being college-age, they are beginning to pair up, and my girl finds the whole process fascinating.  I think I've got a Dolly Levi in the making here.  She loves to mentally put people together into well-matched couples.

When she paused, I asked, "Do you know anyone musical?  I've always pictured you with someone musical, I'm not sure why."  She agreed that she saw her self with a musical man, too, but that more important than musicality was a love of Jesus and the outdoors--and a sense of humor.

As she elaborated, I realized that she was very accurately describing a young man I've had picked out for her since she was twelve.  I had the pleasure of teaching him for a few years, and temperament-wise he just struck me as a perfect fit for my super-smart, somewhat scattered, very artsy middle child.  I have sung his praises for years now and she always rolls her eyes. 

Naturally,  when she described her ideal man, I couldn't resist pointing out that she had just given me an exact description of young Mr. Right.  

She's not there yet--she's got this ridiculous notion that she wants someone she's actually had a conversation with in the past two years.  (Can we please bring back arranged marriages?)

Today I was messaging with Katie and our Grace and told them about our exchange regarding Mr. Right.  He is at the same university they're at, and apparently I'm not the only one who thinks he's a catch.  Grace said, "Well, she'd better move fast..."

I'm guessing he's quite the hot commodity up at UF.  Smart girls.

As great as this kid is, I have to say, no, she doesn't need to move fast.  

I do want my kids to have an idea about the deep qualities that they think are critical in a mate, because cute only lasts so long.

However, even more importantly I want them to realize that THEY are the catch, and they don't need to compete for love.

The REAL Mr. Right for each of my girls, will see the treasure that is uniquely her, and he will want to move fast to win her.  

The whole exchange has left me feeling grateful for the gift I have in my husband. I never felt like I had to win him, had to compete with anyone else.  And it's not because others weren't trying.  He's quite a looker.  At the time we started dating there were several ladies who were not happy with me for taking him off the market. (They'd obviously never seen the dog hat.)  They were trying to compete, but I never felt like I had to.  I never felt threatened--not because I was so confident in myself, but because he was so happy with just me. He certainly had plenty of options...many who were more beautiful, talented, and successful than me. But for whatever reason, in me he saw his match and he quit looking.  I may not be the perfect female, but I was perfect for him, and he let me know it.   I remember when my mom asked me what was so special about this guy and I answered, "He's the first person I've dated who likes me for the same reasons I like myself."

So, my girls, all of my girls--whether you are in your twenties or in your fifties--I wish for you this kind of love.  Wait for it.  You don't have to be the perfect woman, you just have to wait for the gem of a man who thinks you are perfect for him.  I pray that you can feel the safety and rest that comes from the trustworthy, unconditional acceptance of a man who is smart enough to see the treasure that is you.  

In the meantime, I know Someone who thinks you to die for, and if you don't know Him, I'd love to introduce you.

15: It Hurts so Good

I have a good friend who loves to tell other people that I am her role model for being a "tough mom."

I'm not sure how I feel about this.

I am loving.  It's just that my love is not always displayed in normal mom-ish ways.  My love is expressed through inside jokes, read alouds, ice-cream, and regular gifts of new running shoes--whether said child runs or not.  (I told you; it's a problem.)

So, my toughness is partly a matter of perception.

I also think that a little bit of toughness is actually an expression of love--because if we try to protect our kids from every hurt or heart-ache, we rob them of opportunities to develop the resilience and compassion that come from hardship.

In the years I have taught English and Sunday School for youth, I cannot tell you how many times a mom has come to me in agony because her child is feeling left out by others.  Often either mom wants to intervene, or wants me to intervene in the situation.

When I respond, they usually look at me like I am from another planet because my first response is always this: "I think every person needs to know what it is to be left-out.  This is a gift."

I really do get it.  I don't have these super-popular kids who never experienced feeling left out.  I know the ache a mom feels when she sees her beloved child wounded and rejected by peers; it's gut wrenching.  I also think there are definitely times when intervention is needed because what is going on is malicious bullying that shouldn't be tolerated.

However, the fact that the student in these situations had a mother wanting to step in and fix things was proof that these kids where not lacking love and support. Moreover, most often the hurt feelings were not a matter of malicious intent, but simple adolescent preference and insensitivity.  Nine times out of ten, the wounded child is one that I know has close friends and a rich social life...it's just in one situation that peers are rejecting.

I have actually been grateful when my kids have felt this type of rejection, because I want them to know what it feels like.  I want that wound to give them sensitive hearts, eyes that can see hurt in others, and arms that reach out to embrace the lonely.  I want them to know from experience how to care for a hurting soul.   I want them to want to fight for the underdog because they have been one once.

I wonder how helpful it is if as moms we rush in to avenge every wound.  We may feel better in the short term, but what does it do to our kids...to give them the idea that they have the right to be liked by everyone, invited to every party, protected from every slight?  I'm thinking such assistance will not be a great catalyst for humility and compassion.

Instead, what about helping a wounded child remember that they are valued by an infinite God even if not by other teenagers? What about re-directing their thoughts to the friends and family members who do love and support them.  What if we simply enter their pain with them and help them grow from it?    I think a better use of mamma-bear instinct is not to crush the opposition, but to use the hurt as a teaching moment and offer a more complete perspective on the situation.

As we walk with them through the pain, we have a chance to speak truth, turn their eyes from themselves to others, and help ensure that the hurt makes them softer and not hardened. What a great opportunity to teach that while we can't always control circumstances or the actions of other people, we can control our reactions.  One thing I asked my kids in times of disappointment in friends was, "are you gonna let it make you better, or bitter? Because that choice is yours."

Does that sound tough?  Maybe, but in my experience, if, in addition to what may seem like tough words, there is a lavish amount of affection, ice-cream, and running shoes, kids will come away feeling loved in all the right ways.

Day Thirteen: Who am I to Judge?

More and more lately I've been hearing derogatory comments about "judgmental people" (usually, but not always referring to people of faith).  It's true, there is a sort of judgment among people of faith that is faulty and destructive.  Jesus rebuked the Pharisees for it.  This sort of judgment results from a fixation on rules and legalism.  It is harmful particularly in respect to reaching out to people who do not believe as we do.

The purpose of Christianity is redemption of souls, not modification of behavior.  So when judgement refers to prideful and puffed-up critiquing of another person's actions in hopes of correcting wrong behavior--or worse, in an effort to elevate my own opinion of myself--I agree wholeheartedly that it is bad.  There is an evil and destructive tendency in each of us to place our actions and opinions on a pedestal, and belittle and scorn the actions and ideas of those who disagree with us, but it has no place among the followers of Christ.  We, of all people should recognize that every human is a fallen being and redemption is made possible only through the blood of Christ--not by our perfect performance.  I really want to wrestle through thinking about this, however, because while I think that legalism and pride have wounded too many broken souls, I think we're heading in a direction that is also not quite right.  I don't claim to have any answers at this point, just some uneasiness that needs to be sorted out.

If any pastor or seminary types read this, I'd love your input!

You see, lately the context in which I am often hearing scorn of "judgement" as if it is the unpardonable sin is different from the haughty reproach of legalists wanting the whole world to act better (meaning exactly the way they act).  

However, more and more when I hear people proudly assert that they judge no one and no one should judge them, it is really more in the sense that it is wrong to call anyone else's actions wrong. (Please don't miss the irony there.)  It seems today that to call any action wrong is deemed "judgmental." 

I usually find myself thinking, "You keep using that word.  I don't think it means what you think it means."

Here's my discomfort:  Nearly every time I hear a person say we should not judge others, they typically mean "how dare you call any one else's behavior a sin--because you are not God."  No, I'm not, and we should all be exceedingly thankful for that.  But here's the thing:  God IS God and He did leave us some instructions.  He even gave some commands and prohibitions, and they are pretty easy to find.  Many of them could actually be considered absolutes.  So, because God is God and He set some guidelines, there are some things that are, in fact, sinful.  So it's okay to call them that--not because I say they are sins, but because God says so.  Stating a biblical truth isn't necessarily being judgmental.

Everyone seems to be very familiar with the verses in Matthew 7, where Jesus says the famous lines, "Judge not, lest ye also be judged," and warns listeners that they will be judged according to the standard they use to judge others.  Sobering council, for sure.  However, the advice He gives later in the passage is not to ignore sin, but to "FIRST get the log out of your own eye, and then you will see well enough to deal with the speck in your friend's eye."  

We are to search our own hearts first, but we're also expected to help our friends deal with theirs.  I think it's also important to note, for people who love to beat "judgers" over the head with this passage, that I'm pretty sure Jesus wasn't talking so much about individual sins, but about our standing before God.  

At the time, the Jews relied heavily on performance, rituals and their belonging to the Tribes of Israel to make them right with God.  They relied on the law of Moses. The problem is that they missed the point of the law, which was to show them their fallen status before God and help them recognize their need for a Savior.  He was that Savior and was about to institute a new Covenant by which all people, not just Jews, would be judged.  He wanted all people to realize that just as Isaiah said, "all their righteous acts [were] like filthy rags" compared to God's holiness. 

Therefore, if they were judging others according to how well they kept the law--they were in trouble because they themselves would be held to the same standard. I just don't think we can say from this passage that if we call an action sinful that we are judging another in the way Jesus said to avoid.

In fact, later in the New Testament there is ample teaching that in speaking the truth about sin, we are in fact loving others and obeying God by leading them to Him.  For example, in 2 Timothy, Paul instructs: "Opponents must be gently instructed, in the hope that God will grant them repentance leading them to a knowledge of truth and that they will come to their senses and escape from the trap of the devil, who has taken them captive to do his will."  

Later in the same letter, he advises Timothy, "In the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead, and in view of His appearing an His kingdom, I give you this charge: Preach the word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke, and encourage--with great patience an careful instruction."   I fear that anyone who follows his charge today would be criticized by many for being judgmental.

We must be gentle.  We must handle the word correctly.  And our motives must be pure--the redemption of others.  We CERTAINLY must first do some log-plucking to get our own spiritual vision clear.  But then we are commanded to speak, while leaving eternal judgement up to the Only One who has the authority to judge.

Think about this:  God will judge men in two ways.  By their own perfection (because perfection is what is required to be in the presence of God), or by Christ's.  Because most people today don't like to think about sin, or call a sin a sin, they consequently assume that they are good enough and God is loving enough that everything will be okay.  Except that it won't.  Not without repentance and submission to Jesus.  But why repent if you don't think your actions are sinful?

Can you see a little why I am feeling so uncomfortable with the whole "let's not be judgmental" movement? I am SO not pushing for legalism.  I am not at all negating the fact that we are also called to show others the grace we have been shown.  I just have some fear and trembling that in an effort to be gracious we are avoiding conversations that will ultimately bring salvation. 

Anything Update. What a Difference a Week Makes.

A week ago I sat teary-eyed on a couch explaining to my bible study group about my invitation to travel to Myanmar (formerly Burma) with two staff members of She is Safe. My tears were the result of an inner turmoil that had been churning for days.

I really want to go, but really couldn't see why I should.  As I hashed out my struggle to decide, one friend finally asked, "So, should we pray that you WILL go, or that you WON'T?"

My response was, "Yes."

The fear factor really wasn't an issue after the initial shock of the invitation.  As I told my friend Katy, I'm pretty much always afraid, so I've learned to mostly charge on in spite of it because I don't want to miss my life.

My reluctance really had more to do with the fact that it is a large chunk of money, and whether it's out of my bank account or the from the generosity of others, it could just go straight to the work of She is Safe and not spent on sending me halfway around the globe.  I wasn't sure (and I'm still not sure) what I have to offer that would justify the expense. In fact, when I first spoke with the adorable woman who will be leading the trip, she encouraged me just to be open to using "whatever special skills I might have" while we are in Myanmar.  I could not think of a single special skill that might be useful.  I'm really nice--which I guess is a skill--?--and I'm great at reading stories aloud to children.  Aaaannnnd that's pretty much it.

As I sit and type this now, one short week later, I'm in a completely different place, feeling that as long as God keeps giving His yes in response to my yes, I'm going to Myanmar. And I'm fairly certain that it is what I'm supposed to do.

So what changed? First, I finished the book Helping Without Hurting, which is required reading for the trip.  (Everyone should read this book, by the way.)   In the book, the authors emphasize that short-term mission trips, to be most effective, need to be in support of long-term, preferably grass-roots efforts run by nationals in the host country.  The author told of the vital importance of visitors engaging and encouraging the field workers they meet, even claiming that such interactions provide far more value to the trip than any physical or material help.  We westerners (like me) want to hit the road and serve, which too often means doing things that local people could do themselves.  We tend to think of going so far just to fellowship as unproductive.   

So false. 

Think about this: in most of the Majority World, Christians are in the minority.  In Myanmar less than five percent of the population is Christian. To be able to meet with believers from across the globe and know that they are not alone, but supported in prayer by brothers and sisters whom they have now met face-to-face and shared meals with---think what an encouragement that is.  Maybe there IS a need for my "talent" for being nice!

The book was instrumental in changing my perspective, but so were people.  My friend Katy and new friend Kristin, who will be my travel partners, have been a huge encouragement just by sharing their experience, wisdom, and confidence.  Even though we can all agree that we have very little idea how I will be of service on this trip, they are certain that I will be a valuable member of the team--and God will show us how.

It has also been an amazing week to sit and see God work.  Before I even got support letters printed and mailed out, I had received over half of the money for the trip in donations from friends excited to be a part.  Given that encouraging sum, the trip leader called me yesterday saying that she felt comfortable going ahead and purchasing my ticket even though I was still a few hundred dollars shy of the full cost.  On faith we went ahead with buying tickets. Within minutes of getting the confirmation e-mail about the ticket, I got a notification that I had received a donation that would more than cover the needed cost of the ticket.

That's enough confirmation for me to keep moving forward!  If God can make all this happen (because it surely wasn't me), then I guess He'll find a way to use me, too.

The Sum of my Wisdom

This year I turned 50, a milestone that ideally comes with some hard-earned wisdom to share.  

Instead, I've spent the past six months wondering how this could have happened to someone as young as I am. I swear, I JUST turned 40 a week ago!  

It's been six months since my birthday, and I never did formulate any summary of the lessons I've learned over half a century.  Perhaps time got away from me because I now spend an alarming part of my day running to keep my arteries supple and then doing yoga to stretch and strengthen so that my joints won't seize up.  

And napping--because, what with all that running and yoga, you know....

...what was I talking about?  Oh, wisdom.  

Celebrating the big 5-0

This past week, I moved my oldest child to her new apartment (TWO HOURS AWAY).  Let me tell you, launching your young will motivate you to come up with some wise words like 50 never could.  The weeks prior to her move, I was overwhelmed with the sense that time was running out...

It didn't help that every blog post that crossed my path contained something in the title having to do with "what kids need to know BEFORE they leave home."  (Ulp.)

Did she learn everything I wanted her to learn?  In the short time remaining, I struggled with coming up with a "Top 10" list of truths I wanted to be SURE she knew before she left my home. 

(Struggled is a bit of an understatement.)  

In the end, I cranked out a last-minute compilation resulting from my scattered pondering over the preceding weeks--just before we headed out the door.  It would have to do, because time was officially UP.  The following list was written specifically to MY girl, but I'm thinking it pretty much hits the highlights of my wisdom from 50 years of living.  (It's a good start anyway!)

Celebrating (...well, mostly) my first to leave the nest.

1. Jesus first—even when you are not feeling it. Home is where He is.
2. You are a work in progress; you are enough, and you are worth fighting for.  So is everyone else.  Don't settle for less, and don't give less.
3. You are loved—even when you are not feeling it. LIVE LOVED.
4. The worst person you can lie to is yourself.  
5. Failure is nearly always part of the road to success. Give yourself permission to fail.
6. Surround yourself with positive, whole-hearted people, and endeavor to be one.
7. BE WITH WHOM YOU ARE WITH. (Also known as "put the dang phone down!")  I know she rolled her eyes as she read this one...
8. Don’t worry about your parents’ approval.  You had it the moment you took your first breath.
9. Give grace to everyone--even meanies--remembering that grace is by definition unmerited, and we're all dying for it.
10. You’re stronger than you know, but it’s okay to be weak sometimes—find the friends you can lean on and support.

So, there you have it.  Anyone have anything else to add?

When Do I Rest?

Every January I spend some time thinking about what should be my "word" for the year.  That may sound cheesy, but intentionality is not my strong suit, so I've found the practice a good one.  One word, well-chosen,  reminds me of an important focus for the year and guides my decision-making and prioritizing.  This year that task was tough.  Nearly into February, I was still without a word, still without a focus.  Then one morning, as often happens, something in the Word jumped out at me:

"On the seventh day God had finished his work of creation, so he rested from all his work." --Genesis 2:2

First God finished.  Then He rested.  Honestly, the word that first grabbed me was FINISHED.  Maybe that was my word: FINISH.  I reasoned that God had earned the right to rest, because He had finished His work. Perhaps I needed to focus on finishing things.  Great idea, great word, but the thought of it left me feeling weighed down and on the verge of tears. 

  Because, really, does a wife. a mom, a teacher EVER finish?  Truth be told, I was not resting because I never felt finished. The problem is that I tend to view my roles as a continual and unending work that will not be finished until the kids are grown, until I retire, and until death do us part.  And frankly, I wasn't so sure I could make it to "finished" if I didn't get some rest!

Here's the thing:  The Bible doesn't end at Genesis 2.  A whole lot of Book comes after Genesis, and it's ALL the work of God.  Not only that, I'm living proof that He is STILL working in this world.  What God finished before he rested was the work of creation. 

One work. 

Granted, that work was pretty impressive, but it was not His entire work for all of eternity.  He finished that work, then He rested.  He didn't quit.

In viewing the "big picture" things of life as what had to be finished before I could rest, I was actually hurting my work and God's work in me.  

The cost of never resting is an overwhelming desire to just quit. 

What a relief to read more closely, to let God show me the Heart behind His words.  Yes, I need to finish what I start, and a rest feels much more blissful when it comes after a hard effort that is completed.  The rest, however, is just as much a part of the ultimate work as the finishing.    

Therefore, what I need to give myself permission to do is rest after finishing "the work of _____________."   

Then, with the satisfaction of one job complete and a well-earned rest, I am refreshed to continue in the Great Work to which God has called me.  

Grace and Truth

"Because He was full of grace and truth, from Him we all received one gift after another."  John 1:16

This was my memory verse this week.  Not to simply repeat, but to meditate upon.

Because Jesus was full of grace, He made it possible for me--and you--to receive what we don't deserve, the favor and presence of God Almighty.

This is a BIG HONKING DEAL.

However, I'm not sure we can fully fathom the magnitude of His grace unless we also remember the truth part.  My pastor's son, also a pastor, preached it in a way that resonated this Sunday.

"The key to doing all the things you should do...is that you can't do it."

How's that for a feel-good truth?   

It is, really, because once I realize that I can't do what is required, I can marvel at the wonder that Christ has done it for me.  Unless I grasp the truth that I am capable of nothing that is holy, unless I see the truth of who I am without Christ, I can't fully absorb the magnitude of the grace that He has showered upon me.

Without the ugly truth about me, I can't appreciate the utterly magnificent grace of Christ.

I experienced this truth in a very vivid way last week.

I was innocently folding laundry when some very unpleasant memories just popped into my brain.  UGLY memories of something awful I did as a young teenager. And then that memory set off another, and another, and, unfortunately, my misguided youth provided ample fodder for a complete avalanche of memories of my depravity.

Imagine a version of the FB movie--with only the bad things.  Yeah, it was that--only longer.

The realization of who I was without Christ rammed right into my solar plexus and knocked me down.  It sucked the air right out of me to realize just how rotten I was capable of being.  This should not have been a great revelation to me, but it was.

You see, normally I have this talent for completely forgetting anything that is unpleasant, and frankly, there are many things in my past that I prefer to forget. (Don't get me wrong, I had a safe, happy childhood and was well loved by two wonderful people--it's ME that was horrible.)

I truly was rotten, but I was a bit stunned to realize just how rotten, because I've always been so nice.   Parents didn't really fret if their kids hung out with me.  (They probably should have.) Anyway, it's a bit of a shocker for a pathologically nice person to be faced with the fact that her pleasant temperament was just a sweet coating around a selfish, dishonest, nature.

That day as I folded and the memories flooded back, I was undone.

Honestly, I don't know why on that day I had those memories. My first instinct was that my enemy was accusing--pointing the finger to show me how unworthy I am to even attempt to serve Jesus. Maybe it was, but he should have known better.  Because as soon as that thought crossed my mind, the realization hit me that my unworthiness is sort of the point of the Gospel.  

Jesus shouldn't use me.  But He does.

And those sickening memories--as unpleasant as they were, turned out to be a gift.

Here's why:

In remembering who I was apart from Christ, I was amazed at where He has brought me.  I hated looking at the picture of the past, but it helped me see that that person, is no longer who I am.  I'm still in progress, but I really am a new creation.

He loved me as I was, but He didn't leave me that way.

It was a gift to feel the full weight of my sin, because it helped me to grasp the full weight of the Gospel.

Can I just tell you---it is an unspeakably awesome thing to stand before a holy God, undone, and say, "I am not worthy," and to feel His gentle whisper, "I know. But you're mine."

Gifts: Just a Smattering to Catch Up

1682. Sunday School lesson taught by Grace, Happy Girl, Ana and Hannah.  Such sincerity!

1684. Beautiful heart-crafted wedding vows by two kids who really understand what they mean.

1691. Sweet-smelling beeswax scenting the house.

1700.  Lisa D., always willing to share her thoughts and heart.

1705.  Surprise visitors: Jeff and Emily C. toting a microwave.

1711. The ability to give blood--a great reminder of The Blood that bought my freedom.

1723. Timely prayer for my family, straight from God's word:

And now, just as you accepted Christ Jesus as your LORD, you must continue to follow Him.  Let your roots grow down into Him, and let your lives be built on Him.  Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness. Colossians 2:6-7


1732.  The outlaw Frank, whining from "jail" after he's killed chicken.

1738.  Matty W. on castration day, "I am SO glad I'm not a cow."

1750. Another chance to get over myself.

1756.  Sweet Denae, so emotional in all the right ways.

1777. Ishaan's excitement over giving a gift.  He truly finds it better to give than to receive!

1780. Failures to keep me humble and re-focus me.

1783.  Friendly pig, pressed against the fence, eager for attention.

1790. A sacrificial man who desires to carry the load of providing regardless of the cost to himself.

1794. Morning fellowship with my God:  Him reaching down to me as I reach up with only praise.

1797. Sleepless nights for praying.

1800. From the Word: "Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in and we will share a meal as friends." (Spoken to the lukewarm church.  He still knocks.)

1802. Sister pictures:  Barncoat and boots with gussied and glitter.

1805. The assurance that I am never alone.  Even when I feel alone.

My Independent Thinkers

Hmmphfff.

Someone has been teaching my children to think for themselves, to search for truth and not just blindly accept ideas just because some authority says so.

...Oh, wait, that was me....

When I began homeschooling about six thousand years ago, one of my heart-felt convictions was that I wanted my children to know how to THINK independently.

I taught them to show honor and submit to authority, but also I wanted them to wrestle through the tough questions and challenge weak logic so that after the wrestling, the convictions that remained would be unshakable.

Beware of what you wish for.

Here's the thing...(cringe)...

I always kind of assumed that their convictions would end up matching mine--because I'm right.

My idea was that they would wrestle and search and get all grown-up and independent in their thinking and then come to the very deeply-held conviction that Mommy Knows Best.  (I do, you know.)

Imagine my frustration, then, the first time my beloved child--a child I carried in my womb for months, nursed, potty-trained, nurtured and poured truth into---had the audacity to disagree with me.

Scandalous.

It started when my oldest was about 14 years old, but back then I was the mom and I could still "say so."  She didn't have to agree with me, but she had to obey me.

We're entering new territory now.

My oldest is now 19--an adult in the eyes of the law--with two siblings close behind her.  If she wants, she can get a tattoo and there's nothing (legal) I can do about it.

She has legal grounds for saying, "You're not the boss of me!" (To her credit, she is wise enough NOT to say it...)

I can't even talk to the health insurance company to clear up a claim without her consent because "she's an adult." (Yeah, whatever... who pays the premiums?)

It's a bit unnerving, this loss of authority.

I raised my kids right--or as right as I knew how.

I encouraged them to think biblically and then taught them to do it.

I challenged their thinking when I thought it was faulty, and I instructed them to challenge mine when it contradicted the truth of the Bible.

I urged them to form their own values and convictions and hold them tightly.

And now...

now

I have to release them to live by their convictions.

When their convictions match mine,  it's a beautiful and exciting thing to behold.

When they don't, it's annoying.

In some cases it's even terrifying--because I realize that part of releasing them to live their convictions means allowing them to experience the full effect of the consequences of those beliefs.

What I really need to release is this notion that I have control, that their destiny is my responsibility.

It never was.

God gave me a job to do, but their lives are in His hands.  I need to release them not to themselves, but to Him.

They may mess up...just like I did.

Even in moments when they can't be trusted, He can.

Didn't He use even my gravest sins to bring me closer to Him?

Maybe I need to remember that the Father Knows Best. 

Winter Gratitude Remembered in Summer: Just some highlights

1587. Bright orange beanies on our star runners that show they take their sport--but not themselves--seriously.

1590. Crisp mornings and long-sleeve shirts.

1591. Steer and pig playing tag...so sweet, but so dangerous!

1597. Cooler, off-season runs with my kids.  I love that it's hard to keep up (and that I almost can!)

1602. A break for the Cowboy to "relax" and enjoy the farm.

1608. A gift from the Word: "God is so rich in mercy and He loved us so much that though we were dead because of our sins, He gave us life when He raised Christ from the dead."

1609. Children who are growing up to be my friends.

1612. Good words about humble orthodoxy.

1618. Overlooking an offense--a chance to give rather than receive grace.  (... and the proof that God was in it: all these months later, I don't even remember what the offense was!)

1624. Four calves running up to the fence in greeting.

1627. Surprise backyard visitor: Stymie!  No need to mow.

1642.  Working in a tidy house.

1644.  "Carl," the neighbor's dopey Irish setter.

1645. Dinner with my favorite teenage Max, listening to his system of annotation: "Pink highlighting stands for woman logic."

1647. Songbird tromping up from the barn in her pajama bottoms and her Daddy's field jacket.

1649. Josh and Gage who tearfully offer up prayers for their "beloved Mr. Mike."  Love these boys!

1653. Cousin Ashley showing at the fair.

1655. The gift of not enough--to show me the One who is enough.

1670.  Tears shamelessly shed by strong, godly men over the loss of a friend.

1674. New friends sharing our campsite.

1678. Celebrating a life that was lived for the right reasons.

1688. The first batch of honey.

1700. Happy Girl's amazing photos of a wild hive.

Unlimited Potential

By his divine power, God has given us everything we need for living a godly life. We have received all of this by coming to know him, the one who called us to himself by means of his marvelous glory and excellence. And because of his glory and excellence, he has given us great and precious promises. These are the promises that enable you to share his divine nature and escape the world’s corruption caused by human desires. 2 Peter 1:3-4

Last fall, two of my kids joined the Cross Country team for the first time.  Because it is a small school, the team consists of runners in 6th - 12th grade.  

Whether a runner is a varsity runner or a JV runner depends on commitment and race times, not on grade-level.  In fact, one of the faster varsity girls was a 12-year-old sixth grader!

Having inherited my athletic ability (cough, cough), my two athletes were steadfast members of the JV team. As in football and basketball, genetics play a huge role in performing at the elite level.  Although both kids worked hard and made great improvements over the season, there was never really any possibility of them running varsity.  (Even the slow kids on the varsity team were freakishly fast compared to the general population.) 

Their friend Taylor, also a brand new runner, was a different story.  She realized by the third race that she had the potential to be an excellent runner.  By mid-season she was consistently running varsity.  

However, along with that honor came much greater pressure and a much higher level of commitment on her part to maintain her position. She chose to give up many other things in order to focus on her running, because she realized her potential for success.  

It would be easy to look at Taylor's level of commitment compared to my kids and say that her character is greater.  While she does have a great character, it's no greater than that of many other kids on the team--varsity or JV. 

The difference is potential.  

Taylor realized that with total commitment, she could achieve a level of excellence that could win her a spot on a college team and possibly even a scholarship.  

In contrast, even if my kids gave total commitment and cut everything else out of life, they are not likely to get a running scholarship.  Although running is great for them, it is not an area of giftedness for them.  

There is no motivation to sacrifice all other pursuits to focus on running, when they don't have the potential for victory.  (I know, I know, just crossing the finish line is a victory, but hang with me here...)

What if....

what if there were something they could do, some pill they could take, that would GUARANTEE that if they put in the training, they would be Olympic contenders? 

I think we'd see their motivation and commitment level sky-rocket!

In 1 Corinthtians 9:24, Paul urges believers (like you and me) to "run in such a way as to win the prize."  Only here, he is not talking about a physical race, but a spiritual one. 

Unlike running, spiritual excellence is not a matter of genetics. It's a matter of the Gospel.

Yet I wonder how many Christians are content to be on the "JV" team spiritually, cheering the varsity team enthusiastically, but unwilling to give the commitment and sacrifice required to live victoriously?  

Although there are a multitude of reasons why, I suspect that often it's because   we don't believe we have the potential for victory.  We believe that no matter how hard we strive, we can't measure up.

How easy it is to look at our flawed and sinful selves and assume that holiness is reserved for those rare individuals who are "naturally" spiritual.

IT'S A LIE.

Every believer has the potential for holiness.

The Bible is very clear that EVERY follower of Christ is reborn with everything required to live a godly life and participate in God's work of restoration in this world.  

I have the potential to be a godly, victorious woman, despite my less than victorious past.  I am more than a conqueror regardless of my natural bent, because Christ has shared HIS divine nature with me.  It's not about MY ability, it's about HIS.

Can you see?  There is no reason for any believer to walk in defeat.  We simply need to grasp the reality and the source of our potential, and then train hard because we know that victory is guaranteed.

Safe from What?

Yes, and the Lord will deliver me from every evil attack and will bring me safely into his heavenly kingdom.  -- 2 Timothy 4:18

It would be very easy to read this promise through the lens of American prosperity and think that it was a promise that God would protect me from physical harm and mistreatment by others until the day I die.

Except that Paul is promising nothing of the sort.

Just read Acts: the man was beaten, rejected, imprisoned and finally beheaded! Most definitely NOT protection from physical harm.

Still, he considered himself "delivered" by God.

What?

Closer reading reveals that Paul was not delusional.

God did live up to Paul's confidence in Him.

You see, Paul didn't say he was confident God would deliver him from all physical harm, but from every evil attack.  He wasn't talking about a physical, earthly battle but an eternal, spiritual one.

Beaten, betrayed, persecuted, tortured, imprisoned and beheaded, God was faithful to Paul because regardless of the evil attacks, Paul entered God's heavenly kingdom with his faith and passion for Christ intact.  The Gospel was still his greatest treasure.  God had enabled him to finish the work He created for him to do.

The physical stuff was not the issue at all!

This past month my church family has lost two young members.

One was a good friend of the Cowboy, a mountain of a man named Greg, devoted to his wife and family.  He died suddenly, leaving them without the security of life insurance.

Just a week or two later, we prayed fervently and fasted for Molly, a 46-year-old wife, mother and teacher, asking God to protect her physically and restore health---only to bury her days later.

If I think that God's protection is only physical, my faith would be rocked right now.

Many of us did reel and ask: "How can He allow this?"

But today, I was reminded by Paul's letter to Timothy that God is faithful even when circumstances seem otherwise.

Greg's family had no life insurance, but he lived his life in a way that left them certain that God is still good. He left them the security of LIFE ASSURANCE.

 Molly's husband announced her physical death "with great sorrow and joy" because he knew her real life was just beginning.

From the apostle Paul's eternal perspective I can look at the lives of my two friends and say confidently that God did deliver them from every evil attack and brought them safely into His heavenly kingdom.

I wonder:

How often am I diligent in praying for the physical, but neglect to offer vital spiritual intercession?

I send my kids on mission trips and pray that they will have traveling mercies and good weather. I pray they will be safe from physical harm, disease and hardship. 

More importantly, I should be praying that God would enable them to complete the task that He has for them, that He would protect them from spiritual attacks that would distract them from the work at hand and that NO ungodly influence would interfere.

During a season of financial squeeze, I pray that God will meet our physical needs and provide my Cowboy with a good job.  

Really, I should pray that God would protect him from discouragement, and that the financial pressure would not tempt him to compromise his values or allow any seed of bitterness to take root or--worst of all--cause him to blame or distrust God.

Now, as he begins a new career wrangling jets instead of cows, I have been praying every time he gets in a plane, that it lands safely.  This is a good prayer, because I love him.  

But even more I need to pray that God will protect him from the distractions and temptations that will surround him, that he will be a witness to the goodness of God and the faithfulness of His Spirit to those around him, that God will deliver him from every evil attack. 

O, Father, forgive my temporal mindset.  Create in me a heart that would rather see my loved-ones tortured for their passion for Christ than to have them safe and happy but indifferent to Your Son.  Broaden my perspective to see that as long as my heart is YOURS then you have delivered me.  Help me live in a way that demonstrates that my physical and financial circumstances are only peripheral matters, important only if they magnify Your Name.