Children seem fascinated when other children are being disciplined. They watch with mixed horror and glee. It seems the innocent bystanders always take the moral high-ground and tsk-tsk the offender. Colette tends to use a very adult voice as she recaps the incident. She piously shakes her head from side to side and announces, "So-and-So sure was having a rough time today. She didn't want to listen to her mommy." Funny how clear right and wrong seems when you are not guilty of wrongdoing.
It might seem odd to say this, but I was relieved when Mary reached an age of intentional disobedience that required discipline. For awhile Colette must have considered herself to be the naughty girl of the family and Mary was the golden child who could do no wrong. I sympathized with her that Mommy frequently had scowls for her and smiles for my cooing innocent baby. And now we have a similar dynamic between Mary, the two year old who is just beginning to explore the potentials of naughtiness, and Julia, the baby who is often Mommy's happy place. It's tough feeling like you are the only one who has a hard time doing the right thing.
I suppose we never grow out of the fascination for other's failures. It fuels the media, fosters gossip, and leads us to that sense of security that we are not so bad. To spotlight someone else's faults is never a good thing. To preen our own self-esteem at the scrutiny of someone's failure, something of which I have often found myself guilty, is shameful as well. But to quietly learn from the shortcomings of others can be valuable. While Colette would like to think she has never behaved poorly for her mother, I find opportunity with her peers' behaviors to discuss how to manage the same situation when she finds herself there. And I remind her of times where she has made similar poor choices. I use these moments to humble her and encourage her. I would do well to parent myself the same way.
It is no mistake that the Biblical "greats" have pasts ladened with shady business. Abraham, the father of the Jewish nation, attempted to get a head start on God's promise that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars and slept with his wife's servant since his own wife appeared to be barren. Not exactly a faithful move. Twice while traveling in foreign lands, he lied and said his wife was his sister and gave her to other men, in fear of his life. Then there was Moses who saved the Israelites by leading them out of Egypt, but was guilty of murder before he took that walk of faith. David, described as "a man after God's heart," had quite the heinous history of adultery and murder. Peter, the often over-zealous disciple, denied knowing Christ when He was being tried and persecuted.
What kind of examples do these "greats" set for us?!
Realistic ones. The truth is we all have some shameful baggage, but there is no burden too heavy for Christ to carry for us. All was suffered on that cross. To say that only those innocent of the "big" sins, are worthy of being saved, diminishes the profound work Jesus did in offering himself as a pure sacrifice for the sins of all. It is precisely why the Bible is rich with examples of people stumbling their way to faith. If the Bible truly professed that being a good person was the key to Heaven as so many a confused Christian claims the founding principle of Christianity to be, then Abraham, Moses, David, Jonah, Peter, Paul and a host of others would be out of luck. But they are not, and neither are you.
The media laps up the sins of famous Christians as if it were sweet honey. They shake their fingers at the fallen and proudly proclaim that their Christianity has made them no better than the rest of the world. Too often we unite on the common ground of sin. Truth is, sin is a common ground for all of us, Christian or not. It is good to know you are not alone in the struggle of sin, but better to know we can unite in the grace of a Savior who lovingly died for those sins so that He could spend eternity with you. Paul, after persecuting Christians with fervor, was able to joyously declare that salvation was his, because he knew the truth he professed in Romans 3:22-24, "This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe. There is no difference, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus."
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Confess the Mess!
When you are a mommy of three small children and not the most organized individual, your home may appear to have been ransacked to the onlooker... which is why I often draw my blinds... and panic when the doorbell rings. Just this morning I asked Colette to fold up clothes that she had decided against wearing and put them back in her dresser. She reminded me in a very logical argument that my own closet had a pile of clothes on the floor, as she edged a tangle of shirts, skirts and tights into the closet with her toe and attempted to close the door.
This week the house and the children have been overwhelming, leading to a few desperate Facebook posts. My husband was out of town, I am preparing for my sister's wedding, and potty training Mary has lead to exhausting amounts of laundry that have me fearing my next water bill. Offers of help were made and I did not respond. I am not one to easily accept help because enlisting help often requires a full revelation of the actual mess. Oh, I can admit to you that my house is a mess and leave to your imagination how bad it might be. You will give me the benefit of the doubt that it can't be "that bad," and I will try to convince you that it is. But the thought of you actually witnessing firsthand that there is crusted oatmeal on my stovetop from this morning, makes me shudder. It's not just the oatmeal- it's the trail of dirty burp cloths, abandoned socks, and toy debris that I can not keep up with. To allow help to actually enter my home, I would go into a cleaning fit that would hide the extent of the disaster so the individual would be left to think I am a delusional perfectionist. I am not, but I sure want you to think I am.
The truth is we all have problems that we admit to having, but when it comes down to revealing the very depth of the problem, we only let a few individuals, if that, see beyond the surface. It can be a very dangerous situation, leaving our potential help to consider that our problem is not that bad and under control. The inability to admit to others just how messy our life can be can leave us lonely and overwhelmed.
I have found that confession can lead to connection with others. In my circle of mom friends, we bond over confessions of tempers lost, rebellious children, and housework run amuck. There is release in discovering that you are not alone in your problems. In some ways, our desire to hide our problems away in a private recess of our mind, is a selfish decision to not help the next individual struggling with the same burden. Appearing to be a mother who has got it all together, leaves a lot of other mothers wondering what their problem is and why it seems to be so tough for them. Perhaps my messy home could be a ministry to them!
At the heart of what we hide, is shame. Like Adam and Eve, we hide because we are ashamed of what we have done and what we have left undone. We fear that if we reveal our inabilities, addictions, and sins, the world will find us unworthy of love. So we place our dirty laundry in closets not visible and leave it largely unaddressed. And we find ourself doing damage control to keep our help from finding that closet in fear they will turn on their heels and run screaming.
And maybe some of this world might. But God will not. Have you ever wondered why an all-knowing God requires us to confess our sins to Him? He knows what we will do before it is done. What good is this step of confession? It is not for His knowledge, but yours. Are you fully admitting to God how messy your life is, or are you pretending He can only see the surface? Friend, you will know the full extent of His love when it covers over that very ugliness that you have been hiding, but when you hide your sin, you allow His love to only come so far. This is the barrier that sin creates and it prevents God from helping you with the mess and it allows the Devil to hang it over your head as evidence of unworthiness.
But the truth that will set you free of this burden of sin is that you are so worthy of God's love that He sent His one and only Son to suffer and die for those very sins you pretend you can hide from Him. He wants you to know that His love reaches even to the very depths of the ugliest part of your life, but if you do not let Him into that closet, He can not begin to help you clean it up. Do not limit the power of the love of God in all areas of your life. That mess is bigger than you are, but not bigger than the power of God.
Tuesday, May 10, 2011
Sunshine Denied
Yesterday was a beautiful day... outside. Inside, it got kind of ugly. I had every intention of spending as much time outside as possible. As required for the sanity of the entire household, Mary was placed in bed for nap in the afternoon. Colette and I worked on school work and some household projects, all the while taunted by the sunshine flooding through the windows. Mary kept sleeping. It had been two hours of Colette patiently waiting for the moment she was given permission to burst out into freedom and fresh air. "Mommy, can I pleeeeease just go outside by myself?" she finally pleaded.
I responded gently, sympathetically, assuringly, as nicely as I possibly could break the news that we would have to wait until Mary woke up so that I could go out with her. Apparently it did not matter how I informed her. She exploded. "You don't even make any sense! I don't think you're my real mom!" I was dumbfounded and caught off guard. I calmly informed her that she was not allowed to talk to me like that and told her she would have to stand facing the wall until she was ready to discuss her feelings in a friendlier fashion. She did not respond well to that. It lead to another string of hurtful words. "You don't even love me!" she accused, "I don't think you even want me!"
Never has she said anything like this before. I wondered where her words came from. Did she really feel this way? And I cried at the thought that a child I had spent the last 4 years loving and serving could possibly feel this way. When she calmed down, I told her that it was because I loved her that I could not let her go outside by herself at the risk of danger. But how do you tell a child that you are protecting them from dangers you don't want to have to explain to her exist? There are evils of this world I am not ready to reveal to her, so I keep her under safe shelter until I feel she is ready to hear that not all people have her best interest at heart, as her mommy does. What she is ignorant of is precisely an evidence of my love, but to her, it seemed a blatant demonstration of a love that was lacking. How could a loving mommy deny a child the very thing that she pines for and finds pure bliss in? I know the logic is beyond her.
Is God's logic beyond you? How often have you found yourself doubting the love of a Father who has laid down His life for you because you have been denied something you have longed for, prayed for, even begged for? As a parent, we often find ourselves in the precarious position of following through with a decision that we know has an eventual outcome of betterment for the child, but in the meantime causes the child sorrow. We cling to that cliche "someday you will understand," and hope that someday, they will. But we live in fear of those words uttered in the heated moments; we worry that the child, in ignorance, will doubt our love.
There are moments in our life when we will feel like we have dropped out of the realm of God's love. It will feel like He is purposefully denying us of pleasures and we cannot comprehend what good can from it. Like a child, we are often so consumed by our desires that we cannot view the greater work at hand. All Colette could see was sunshine and happiness when she gazed longingly out the window, unaware of the many harms from which I need to protect her. And as a mother, it is my job to ask for her trust, when I cannot explain to her why I do the things that I do. It is my hope that I spend enough time demonstrating my love in understandable ways, so that she can trust in that love when she does not understand.
In the very moment Colette was doubting my love, I was exercising it. In love, I could not appease her desires, knowing that it could lead to harm. Do you trust that your God knows a lot more than you do?
God asks us to trust when we cannot understand. He will not always choose to explain why He allows some suffering in our life or denies some pleasures. True faith is exposed in those times. Faith is having hope in that which is unknown. Philippians 4:7 promises, "And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." What this means is we can and should find peace in God even when we may not understand the trials we are facing. We forget that we are children of God, in need of parenting by Our Heavenly Father. Be still and know that He is God.
I responded gently, sympathetically, assuringly, as nicely as I possibly could break the news that we would have to wait until Mary woke up so that I could go out with her. Apparently it did not matter how I informed her. She exploded. "You don't even make any sense! I don't think you're my real mom!" I was dumbfounded and caught off guard. I calmly informed her that she was not allowed to talk to me like that and told her she would have to stand facing the wall until she was ready to discuss her feelings in a friendlier fashion. She did not respond well to that. It lead to another string of hurtful words. "You don't even love me!" she accused, "I don't think you even want me!"
Never has she said anything like this before. I wondered where her words came from. Did she really feel this way? And I cried at the thought that a child I had spent the last 4 years loving and serving could possibly feel this way. When she calmed down, I told her that it was because I loved her that I could not let her go outside by herself at the risk of danger. But how do you tell a child that you are protecting them from dangers you don't want to have to explain to her exist? There are evils of this world I am not ready to reveal to her, so I keep her under safe shelter until I feel she is ready to hear that not all people have her best interest at heart, as her mommy does. What she is ignorant of is precisely an evidence of my love, but to her, it seemed a blatant demonstration of a love that was lacking. How could a loving mommy deny a child the very thing that she pines for and finds pure bliss in? I know the logic is beyond her.
Is God's logic beyond you? How often have you found yourself doubting the love of a Father who has laid down His life for you because you have been denied something you have longed for, prayed for, even begged for? As a parent, we often find ourselves in the precarious position of following through with a decision that we know has an eventual outcome of betterment for the child, but in the meantime causes the child sorrow. We cling to that cliche "someday you will understand," and hope that someday, they will. But we live in fear of those words uttered in the heated moments; we worry that the child, in ignorance, will doubt our love.
There are moments in our life when we will feel like we have dropped out of the realm of God's love. It will feel like He is purposefully denying us of pleasures and we cannot comprehend what good can from it. Like a child, we are often so consumed by our desires that we cannot view the greater work at hand. All Colette could see was sunshine and happiness when she gazed longingly out the window, unaware of the many harms from which I need to protect her. And as a mother, it is my job to ask for her trust, when I cannot explain to her why I do the things that I do. It is my hope that I spend enough time demonstrating my love in understandable ways, so that she can trust in that love when she does not understand.
In the very moment Colette was doubting my love, I was exercising it. In love, I could not appease her desires, knowing that it could lead to harm. Do you trust that your God knows a lot more than you do?
God asks us to trust when we cannot understand. He will not always choose to explain why He allows some suffering in our life or denies some pleasures. True faith is exposed in those times. Faith is having hope in that which is unknown. Philippians 4:7 promises, "And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." What this means is we can and should find peace in God even when we may not understand the trials we are facing. We forget that we are children of God, in need of parenting by Our Heavenly Father. Be still and know that He is God.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
A Laugh at my Expense
In fourth grade, everybody was on a level playing field. I had lots of friends and assumed I was just a likable person. In fifth grade, five elementary schools poured into one middle school. It seemed instinctual as ranking began. I was miserable; nerdy and alone. Who would have thought that the girl with large pink plastic glasses with yellow and blue confetti imbedded in the frames wouldn't fit in? At the end of the school year, the glasses were destroyed in a fortunate jump roping accident.
Freed of the weight of a poor fashion choice, I felt this was my opportunity to come back from the summer and wow my fellow peers. The month of August was left to plotting that ever-so important first day of school outfit. Then as if fate brought us together, I stumbled upon the accessory that would set me apart from my adoring fans. There at Big Lots, passed over by the cool people of this world despite drastic markdowns on the regular department store shelves, I found ridiculously large plastic (when will plastic finally be cool???) bright purple clip-on earrings. They were a dollar. They were, in my mind, perfect.
Having received permission from my mother, I made my purchase with the hope that my future of popularity was secured. The car ride home I drew pictures of myself wearing my grape diamond-shaped earrings. Would they be best set off by a high ponytail, a cascade of curls pulled over one shoulder, or perhaps a side ponytail? I chose the high ponytail, determining that it was the best way to draw all attention to the atrocities I had fallen in love with. If only I knew.
Fate placed Alice behind me in the lunch line-up. The high ponytail revealed the clips of my earrings. My mother did not allow us to pierce our ears until we were 13. My peers had more lenient parents. Alice cleverly sang, "Clip-on, clip-off!" to the tune of the Clapper commercial and drew the class's attention to my only-now-apparent fashion faux-pas. The whole class joined. They clapped and giggled. I slowly pulled each earring off the once proud lobes, knowing that I had again secured myself in the ranks of Nerd-dom. Oh were I never to have found those earrings or had settled on wearing my hair down, hiding the clips from the masses who clearly were just jealous of my earrings and needed to find some flaw to feel validated.
Thus began a middle school career of trying to get people to like me, and never quite getting why my mom's sister's bright red corduroy bib overalls were a big, fat fail or why you would not want to be friends with the girl who had all of the answers in class and handed in ten page papers when the requirement was for two. It was not until high school that I embraced my identity as the nerdy-and-loving-it-type. It was a long haul trying to find a place in this world that I was comfortable with and that was comfortable with me.
Now that middle school is only a painful distant memory, I can accept that Alice's mean-spirited outburst was simply an attempt like my own to be wanted, needed, loved. It is what we are all looking for. God designed us with the need to interact with and to love others. Few humans ignore this desire. But many make poor choices in their attempt to fulfill that need. I suppose we all have our own stories of popularity contest flops, even the popular girls who were just better at hiding their desire to still play house when they were in seventh grade.
I look back at fifth-through-eighth-grade-Katie and she just makes me sad. At times I wish the older, wiser me could go back in time and coach her not to emblazon with silver puffy paint the nickname "Chinsy" on her sixth grade camp ball cap. But the sorrow does not come from reflecting on an embarrassing history, but in knowing that a little girl spent years ignorant to God's delight in what He was creating. He was molding me then and He is molding me now. Life's difficulties and rejections that often seem so empty of love, are just opportunities for Him to fill us up with all of His good love.
It took years of poorly plotted superficial decisions to break me down, before I sought the one love that mattered. I used to think that no one could love me until I learned to love myself, but I think we all know that we are at times very unloveable. I made some very unloveable decisions toward friends, just so I could move up the popularity ranks. But discovering a God who could love me right where I was, in the midst of unloveable sins, was the only way I learned to love others, even those that were the demise of my social life. And when I was able to love others and forgive others- to offer them something of value and not just attempt to dazzle them- I finally discovered my own self worth.
"We love because He first loved us." 1 John 4:19 We are all worthy of God's love. Go fill up on it until it overflows to others. There are a lot of desperate people in need of it.
Freed of the weight of a poor fashion choice, I felt this was my opportunity to come back from the summer and wow my fellow peers. The month of August was left to plotting that ever-so important first day of school outfit. Then as if fate brought us together, I stumbled upon the accessory that would set me apart from my adoring fans. There at Big Lots, passed over by the cool people of this world despite drastic markdowns on the regular department store shelves, I found ridiculously large plastic (when will plastic finally be cool???) bright purple clip-on earrings. They were a dollar. They were, in my mind, perfect.
Having received permission from my mother, I made my purchase with the hope that my future of popularity was secured. The car ride home I drew pictures of myself wearing my grape diamond-shaped earrings. Would they be best set off by a high ponytail, a cascade of curls pulled over one shoulder, or perhaps a side ponytail? I chose the high ponytail, determining that it was the best way to draw all attention to the atrocities I had fallen in love with. If only I knew.
Fate placed Alice behind me in the lunch line-up. The high ponytail revealed the clips of my earrings. My mother did not allow us to pierce our ears until we were 13. My peers had more lenient parents. Alice cleverly sang, "Clip-on, clip-off!" to the tune of the Clapper commercial and drew the class's attention to my only-now-apparent fashion faux-pas. The whole class joined. They clapped and giggled. I slowly pulled each earring off the once proud lobes, knowing that I had again secured myself in the ranks of Nerd-dom. Oh were I never to have found those earrings or had settled on wearing my hair down, hiding the clips from the masses who clearly were just jealous of my earrings and needed to find some flaw to feel validated.
Thus began a middle school career of trying to get people to like me, and never quite getting why my mom's sister's bright red corduroy bib overalls were a big, fat fail or why you would not want to be friends with the girl who had all of the answers in class and handed in ten page papers when the requirement was for two. It was not until high school that I embraced my identity as the nerdy-and-loving-it-type. It was a long haul trying to find a place in this world that I was comfortable with and that was comfortable with me.
Now that middle school is only a painful distant memory, I can accept that Alice's mean-spirited outburst was simply an attempt like my own to be wanted, needed, loved. It is what we are all looking for. God designed us with the need to interact with and to love others. Few humans ignore this desire. But many make poor choices in their attempt to fulfill that need. I suppose we all have our own stories of popularity contest flops, even the popular girls who were just better at hiding their desire to still play house when they were in seventh grade.
I look back at fifth-through-eighth-grade-Katie and she just makes me sad. At times I wish the older, wiser me could go back in time and coach her not to emblazon with silver puffy paint the nickname "Chinsy" on her sixth grade camp ball cap. But the sorrow does not come from reflecting on an embarrassing history, but in knowing that a little girl spent years ignorant to God's delight in what He was creating. He was molding me then and He is molding me now. Life's difficulties and rejections that often seem so empty of love, are just opportunities for Him to fill us up with all of His good love.
It took years of poorly plotted superficial decisions to break me down, before I sought the one love that mattered. I used to think that no one could love me until I learned to love myself, but I think we all know that we are at times very unloveable. I made some very unloveable decisions toward friends, just so I could move up the popularity ranks. But discovering a God who could love me right where I was, in the midst of unloveable sins, was the only way I learned to love others, even those that were the demise of my social life. And when I was able to love others and forgive others- to offer them something of value and not just attempt to dazzle them- I finally discovered my own self worth.
"We love because He first loved us." 1 John 4:19 We are all worthy of God's love. Go fill up on it until it overflows to others. There are a lot of desperate people in need of it.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Doubting Katie
Tis the season for Doubting Thomas sermons. It seems we celebrate Easter and the joy of knowing our Risen Lord and then start "tsk-tsking" Thomas because he did not immediately accept the truth. It's rare that the disciple Thomas' name comes up without the prefix "doubting."
Thomas was not present when the resurrected Jesus made an appearance to all of the other disciples. They saw first-hand the wounds from the nails and His pierced side. Afterwards they told Thomas about their encounter and Thomas honestly said, "Unless I see the nail marks in His hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe it." (John 20:25) Thomas was asking for nothing more than what the other disciples had the privilege of already seeing. It was a whole week later when Jesus appeared to the disciples again, this time with Thomas present, and Jesus addressed Thomas personally by asking him to place his hand in His side and touch His nail-marked hand. Jesus commanded him to, "Stop doubting and believe!" to which Thomas proclaims, "My Lord and My God!"
I wonder what was going through Thomas' mind that whole week where he struggled with doubt while the other disciples rejoiced at the resurrection of Christ. While he was filled with doubt, his comrades were at peace. Did he feel guilty that he could not take his friends at their word? Was he angry or jealous that Christ chose to make His appearance when Thomas was not there? Did He consider why God was making it more difficult for him to come to belief than the others?
Certainly if Thomas had been present for the first appearance, He would have believed. Note that it did not take any coercion on Christ's part for Thomas to accept belief once he saw Him. So why did God choose to reveal Christ to the other disciples first and allow Thomas to struggle with doubt for a whole week before He had the same revelation? When Thomas professed his belief, Jesus responds, "Because you have seen Me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed (vs. 29)." Did not the other disciples only believe because they witnessed the Risen Lord also?
During my brief time at college I befriended a very faithful Christian named Ruth. It was a period of time that my own faith was being threatened. I was struggling with a lot of the challenging questions about Christianity, like the existence of Hell and Satan, why God made us, how did I really know the Bible was true and had not been changed over time, and where did evolution fall into play with the story of creation. I remember presenting a lot of these questions to Ruth and she responded that she had not ever considered most of those thoughts and was not concerned with knowing the answers because she had a solid relationship with God who had made Himself known to her. Because of the evidence He had placed in her life of His goodness, she had no reason to doubt Him on the things He called her to believe in that others might find difficult.
I thought it was preposterous! How could someone believe without having all of the answers? I wondered why God didn't make it easy for me to just believe. Why did I have questions that others were not asking? I wanted to hold onto my belief, but I was afraid if I explored my questions anymore I would be lead away from what I had always identified as the truth. Why didn't God just reveal Himself to me in a blatant manner so I didn't have to struggle with belief? I felt like outside of a bold revelation, I had to turn my mind off to continue in belief. But being of a more curious nature than your average two year old, this was not something I was capable of doing. I felt denied of a peace for which I was desperately in want.
Have you been there?
I wonder if this is how Thomas felt. It feels like a rejection from a God you are not certain you believe in. You want to make demands to a God you don't quite believe in, so that you might believe. But doesn't asking for proof reveal at least some level of belief? I knew I believed in a God, because I had some evidence of Him in my life, but I didn't know how far to take that belief. Did I take it all the way to Jesus? Thomas had witnessed Jesus' miracles- the blind came to sight, the weather and elements responded to His commands, the dead raised to life- but how far did He take the belief in the power of the man he had followed for three years? Can the dead raise themselves to life?
Doubt is not something openly talked about among Christians because our faith's core value is... well, faith. It is by grace that we have been saved, through faith, not by works or goodness. It's our faith that saves us. So if we have doubts, are we not saved? It is a pretty terrifying situation to admit you are in, especially among your Christian friends and family. So we tend to keep our mouths shut and hope that at some point we will happen upon the answers to questions that keep us up at night.
Did God reject Thomas because He professed doubt? Quite the contrary! And that is the good news of this story. And that is why I believe Thomas was not there for the initial appearance. Jesus had a message for all of those who struggle with unbelief. "Bring it to me!" He says. Thomas did not desert his
The truth is during my time of doubt, I was not attending church regularly, was not praying, and was not reading the Bible. The truth is I wasn't really seeking God. The truth is I was seeking my wisdom to be my God. What I could reason, must be truth and if that reason brought me to God, so be it. The problem is faith can not be faith if all of the questions are answered. It would be knowledge. God calls us to faith in Him so that we will come to knowledge of Him.
Proverbs 2:1-6 "My son, if you accept my words and store up my commands within you, turning your ear to wisdom and applying your heart to understanding, and if you call out for insight and cry aloud for understanding, and if you look for it as for silver and search for it as for hidden treasure, then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God. For the Lord gives wisdom, and from his mouth come knowledge and understanding." Accepting His words at His word is the first step of faith and knowledge comes to follow.
As you begin any new relationship, but especially a romantic one, you are placing faith in that individual as you grow in knowledge of that individual. I was smitten with Jonathan upon our first interaction, but it was faith in a character of goodness not yet revealed that allowed us to begin a relationship. As I got to know him more, I had more and more evidence of character qualities that I adored. God is asking you to enter into a relationship with Him so that He can reveal to you His qualities of being a faithful and good God, one Who loves you so much, He stopped at nothing, not even the rejection and death of His own Son to prove it to you.
The evidence is all there, but are you looking at it? If you are not going to God for truth, who do you expect to find it from? Man? With all of our faults and biases and flawed reasoning?
Right after the story of Thomas is told, we find this verse, "But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in His name." That was written for Doubting Katie. The Bible is for those evidence seekers- the ones who need to see the nail marks and the pierced side. Have you read it? Or are you afraid your doubt won't stand a chance once you do...
Thomas was not present when the resurrected Jesus made an appearance to all of the other disciples. They saw first-hand the wounds from the nails and His pierced side. Afterwards they told Thomas about their encounter and Thomas honestly said, "Unless I see the nail marks in His hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe it." (John 20:25) Thomas was asking for nothing more than what the other disciples had the privilege of already seeing. It was a whole week later when Jesus appeared to the disciples again, this time with Thomas present, and Jesus addressed Thomas personally by asking him to place his hand in His side and touch His nail-marked hand. Jesus commanded him to, "Stop doubting and believe!" to which Thomas proclaims, "My Lord and My God!"
I wonder what was going through Thomas' mind that whole week where he struggled with doubt while the other disciples rejoiced at the resurrection of Christ. While he was filled with doubt, his comrades were at peace. Did he feel guilty that he could not take his friends at their word? Was he angry or jealous that Christ chose to make His appearance when Thomas was not there? Did He consider why God was making it more difficult for him to come to belief than the others?
Certainly if Thomas had been present for the first appearance, He would have believed. Note that it did not take any coercion on Christ's part for Thomas to accept belief once he saw Him. So why did God choose to reveal Christ to the other disciples first and allow Thomas to struggle with doubt for a whole week before He had the same revelation? When Thomas professed his belief, Jesus responds, "Because you have seen Me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed (vs. 29)." Did not the other disciples only believe because they witnessed the Risen Lord also?
During my brief time at college I befriended a very faithful Christian named Ruth. It was a period of time that my own faith was being threatened. I was struggling with a lot of the challenging questions about Christianity, like the existence of Hell and Satan, why God made us, how did I really know the Bible was true and had not been changed over time, and where did evolution fall into play with the story of creation. I remember presenting a lot of these questions to Ruth and she responded that she had not ever considered most of those thoughts and was not concerned with knowing the answers because she had a solid relationship with God who had made Himself known to her. Because of the evidence He had placed in her life of His goodness, she had no reason to doubt Him on the things He called her to believe in that others might find difficult.
I thought it was preposterous! How could someone believe without having all of the answers? I wondered why God didn't make it easy for me to just believe. Why did I have questions that others were not asking? I wanted to hold onto my belief, but I was afraid if I explored my questions anymore I would be lead away from what I had always identified as the truth. Why didn't God just reveal Himself to me in a blatant manner so I didn't have to struggle with belief? I felt like outside of a bold revelation, I had to turn my mind off to continue in belief. But being of a more curious nature than your average two year old, this was not something I was capable of doing. I felt denied of a peace for which I was desperately in want.
Have you been there?
I wonder if this is how Thomas felt. It feels like a rejection from a God you are not certain you believe in. You want to make demands to a God you don't quite believe in, so that you might believe. But doesn't asking for proof reveal at least some level of belief? I knew I believed in a God, because I had some evidence of Him in my life, but I didn't know how far to take that belief. Did I take it all the way to Jesus? Thomas had witnessed Jesus' miracles- the blind came to sight, the weather and elements responded to His commands, the dead raised to life- but how far did He take the belief in the power of the man he had followed for three years? Can the dead raise themselves to life?
Doubt is not something openly talked about among Christians because our faith's core value is... well, faith. It is by grace that we have been saved, through faith, not by works or goodness. It's our faith that saves us. So if we have doubts, are we not saved? It is a pretty terrifying situation to admit you are in, especially among your Christian friends and family. So we tend to keep our mouths shut and hope that at some point we will happen upon the answers to questions that keep us up at night.
Did God reject Thomas because He professed doubt? Quite the contrary! And that is the good news of this story. And that is why I believe Thomas was not there for the initial appearance. Jesus had a message for all of those who struggle with unbelief. "Bring it to me!" He says. Thomas did not desert his
The truth is during my time of doubt, I was not attending church regularly, was not praying, and was not reading the Bible. The truth is I wasn't really seeking God. The truth is I was seeking my wisdom to be my God. What I could reason, must be truth and if that reason brought me to God, so be it. The problem is faith can not be faith if all of the questions are answered. It would be knowledge. God calls us to faith in Him so that we will come to knowledge of Him.
Proverbs 2:1-6 "My son, if you accept my words and store up my commands within you, turning your ear to wisdom and applying your heart to understanding, and if you call out for insight and cry aloud for understanding, and if you look for it as for silver and search for it as for hidden treasure, then you will understand the fear of the Lord and find the knowledge of God. For the Lord gives wisdom, and from his mouth come knowledge and understanding." Accepting His words at His word is the first step of faith and knowledge comes to follow.
As you begin any new relationship, but especially a romantic one, you are placing faith in that individual as you grow in knowledge of that individual. I was smitten with Jonathan upon our first interaction, but it was faith in a character of goodness not yet revealed that allowed us to begin a relationship. As I got to know him more, I had more and more evidence of character qualities that I adored. God is asking you to enter into a relationship with Him so that He can reveal to you His qualities of being a faithful and good God, one Who loves you so much, He stopped at nothing, not even the rejection and death of His own Son to prove it to you.
The evidence is all there, but are you looking at it? If you are not going to God for truth, who do you expect to find it from? Man? With all of our faults and biases and flawed reasoning?
Right after the story of Thomas is told, we find this verse, "But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in His name." That was written for Doubting Katie. The Bible is for those evidence seekers- the ones who need to see the nail marks and the pierced side. Have you read it? Or are you afraid your doubt won't stand a chance once you do...
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Your Sunday is Coming
When Jon broke up with me, I could feel it in my chest; this weight interfering with the natural rhythms. I was filled with sorrow and considered the damage done irreparable. To my juvenile eyes it seemed a perfect love and it could never be perfect again. In the midst of my grief, it appeared to me that there was no point in hope, because nothing, not even Jon attempting to reverse what he had done, would return me to a perfect state of trust and love. I feared I could not love him wholly were he to admit his mistake. More than losing him, my suffering was caused from losing hope in what I had believed to be true.
For those of you who have read the beginnings of this blog, you know the ending of this story. All was not lost. From one of the hardest points of my life, God created a beautiful storyline that involved God strengthening my Christian walk so that I could assist Jon in his journey. Had Jon and I stayed together, I know we would be weaker individuals than we are today.
No one likes a spoiler to a good story. We like to ease into the plot, get familiar with the characters, experience the emotions of their struggle and perseverance, and find ourselves pleasantly surprised at the end. Having grown up in the church, I have always known the "ending" (really, is it not the beginning?) of the story of Jesus. He died on the cross, was buried and rose again. So simply put and knowing the ending at the beginning of the story prohibits a full contemplation of the struggle.
It's Saturday. Jesus died yesterday. His disciples had left homes and families to follow Him. They had watched His ministry grow. They had witnessed His miracles. They saw Lazarus and others raised from the dead. They had called Him the Messiah.
It's Saturday. He is dead and they are scared. Though they had witnessed the dead rise to life at the power of their Teacher, they cannot consider anything but that His death is final. No logic can justify hope. Jesus is dead. They had watched Him escape murderous crowds, but Thursday night He gave Himself over to them. Did Jesus just give up? He was a man of power and miracles and He is dead.
It's Saturday. Mary has never known sorrow like this. And fear. She had brought forth a baby though she was a virgin and had heard the promise from an angel that His kingdom would have no end. But He is dead. Did you lie, God? Did I misunderstand? Did you desert us? She wonders at a faith that had been built by partaking in miracles, but the Miracle is dead.
You and I know that all was not lost on Saturday. Sunday was coming. But that Saturday must have seemed like the most hopeless day in all history. He was dead. They had treated His body with spices for burial and laid Him in a tomb. Logic could not lead them to hope.
But it doesn't have to be logical, does it? "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him." 1 Corinthians 1:26. He is the God of things inconceivable, the God of things not hoped for.
Perhaps you are in the midst of a Saturday, left without any hope. He is the God for the hopeless. Your mind cannot conceive, but His can. Logic will not lead you there, but He will. It's Saturday. Yes, but your Sunday is coming.
For those of you who have read the beginnings of this blog, you know the ending of this story. All was not lost. From one of the hardest points of my life, God created a beautiful storyline that involved God strengthening my Christian walk so that I could assist Jon in his journey. Had Jon and I stayed together, I know we would be weaker individuals than we are today.
No one likes a spoiler to a good story. We like to ease into the plot, get familiar with the characters, experience the emotions of their struggle and perseverance, and find ourselves pleasantly surprised at the end. Having grown up in the church, I have always known the "ending" (really, is it not the beginning?) of the story of Jesus. He died on the cross, was buried and rose again. So simply put and knowing the ending at the beginning of the story prohibits a full contemplation of the struggle.
It's Saturday. Jesus died yesterday. His disciples had left homes and families to follow Him. They had watched His ministry grow. They had witnessed His miracles. They saw Lazarus and others raised from the dead. They had called Him the Messiah.
It's Saturday. He is dead and they are scared. Though they had witnessed the dead rise to life at the power of their Teacher, they cannot consider anything but that His death is final. No logic can justify hope. Jesus is dead. They had watched Him escape murderous crowds, but Thursday night He gave Himself over to them. Did Jesus just give up? He was a man of power and miracles and He is dead.
It's Saturday. Mary has never known sorrow like this. And fear. She had brought forth a baby though she was a virgin and had heard the promise from an angel that His kingdom would have no end. But He is dead. Did you lie, God? Did I misunderstand? Did you desert us? She wonders at a faith that had been built by partaking in miracles, but the Miracle is dead.
You and I know that all was not lost on Saturday. Sunday was coming. But that Saturday must have seemed like the most hopeless day in all history. He was dead. They had treated His body with spices for burial and laid Him in a tomb. Logic could not lead them to hope.
But it doesn't have to be logical, does it? "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love Him." 1 Corinthians 1:26. He is the God of things inconceivable, the God of things not hoped for.
Perhaps you are in the midst of a Saturday, left without any hope. He is the God for the hopeless. Your mind cannot conceive, but His can. Logic will not lead you there, but He will. It's Saturday. Yes, but your Sunday is coming.
Friday, April 22, 2011
What He Suffered
I decided to make and can strawberry jam today only because I admittedly have a few screws loose with a newborn in the house and seem to only be content with myself if I am testing my stress limits. While Julia was sleeping I rushed to wash and remove the tops of the strawberries, only to be bombarded by offers to "help." As anyone knows when a baby is sleeping you only have limited time with two hands free, but I could not ignore Colette and Mary's desire to be close to Mommy and feel validation in participating with the jam making.
Mary, being only two and still limited in abilities to follow directions, was assigned the task of taking the strawberries that had been washed out of the strainer into a bowl to be de-topped. This was really an unnecessary step created only for her participation. It slowed my entire procedure down considerably. She took every strawberry, one at a time, into her little hands and stared at it, her hands trembling with the resistance of desire to crush the berry and hesitantly placed it in the bowl. The battle of good and evil continued with each transfer. I was becoming anxious as I could hear Julia starting to rouse. "Mary, just put them in the bowl!" I exclaimed more than once.
I knew I should be valuing my time with the girls, no one bickering or being deviant, but I just wanted to get my task done so I could move on to the piling activities I faced today. I told myself to relax and delight in the way Mary would sneak glances through her long eyelashes to see if I was watching, her thumb quivering at its power to demolish the soft tissue of the berry in hand. But it was supposed to be a five minute task that was turning into an eternity, with each minute eating away at the possibility of the jam ever being produced. I did not want to relieve Mary of her duties because her pride was as vulnerable as the strawberry she held in her hand, but similarly, I quivered with the ability to just crush her spirits and swoop her off the chair. "This is excruciating!" I thought to myself.
Excruciating. I actually thought that word was applicable to my situation. It was "excruciating" to watch and wait, while the existence of my strawberry jam balanced in the hands of Mary. Maybe it is attributed to the observance of the day that the word came so quickly to mind. I was filled with shame. To describe my laughable and really, rather delightful situation with the same term that was created to describe the way my Savior died was shameful. How quick I am to allow the small anxieties of life to consume me. I consider them sufferings, worthy of my complaining.
We so freely use terms without considering the weight of the word. Love, hate, awesome, wicked, starving, excruciating... We profess our love for shoes. Proclaim hatred of brussel sprouts. Describe our physical state of the three hours between lunch and dinner as starvation. Our lack of patience with our little child becomes an excruciating situation. Our overuse and misuse of words eats away at our very ability to communicate the extremity of a true situation; one such as my Lord and Savior dying on a cross for the sins of this world.
He suffered. Ah, yes- suffering- I know all about it. I suffered from a cold last week. It was brutal. Really.
Do we take the time to meditate on how He actually suffered? Or has our tendency to overuse extreme words to exaggerate trivial situations caused us to minimize what He endured to express His love. His love. When we confess our "love" for material things that we abandon when the newest upgrade comes along, how can we understand the concept that drove Him to the cross?
He suffered. It was excruciating. I think Mel Gibson's "The Passion" provided us with a vivid look at the physical torment that Christ went through. I think it is important for us to recognize that. But far more important is to consider that mental and spiritual torment that He suffered for you. It is not easily fathomed and so, not often considered. Jesus had the ability to escape His situation at any moment. He submitted to it. That battle alone had to be exhausting. Then, there was His awareness of the state of the whole world that rested on His shoulders. He knew His disciples deserted Him and were hiding in fear, wondering if they had been deceived in believing in Jesus. Judas had betrayed Him. He knew the inner-workings of the hate that nailed Him on that cross, but knew that even still, some of those responsible would later turn to Him in love and He would receive them. And, He knew that for many, what He did would not be enough to prove God's love for them.
But the least realized aspect of His suffering was by the hand of His Father, the only One who truly loved Him. Isaiah 53:10 "Yet it was the Lord's will to crush him and cause him to suffer." It was the will of the Father that Christ suffer and die for those who did not love Him, so that they might. God poured out His wrath upon the Son that He loved, so that you might consider that He loves you. The very Son was separated from His Father at the cost of your sin. God turned His back on Him, because He would not turn His back on you. He turned His back on Christ, because God knew He would endure it. And He did. And He did it for you. And He knew you might not believe it, but He did it for those who would.
He suffered at the hand of His Father, because He loved you. This was not love like you "love" your new pair of shoes or new car or the ice cream you treat yourself tonight. It was not even love like you feel for your spouse. The weight of that word drove Him to the cross and carried Him through all the suffering. There is no other love like it in the world.
Mary, being only two and still limited in abilities to follow directions, was assigned the task of taking the strawberries that had been washed out of the strainer into a bowl to be de-topped. This was really an unnecessary step created only for her participation. It slowed my entire procedure down considerably. She took every strawberry, one at a time, into her little hands and stared at it, her hands trembling with the resistance of desire to crush the berry and hesitantly placed it in the bowl. The battle of good and evil continued with each transfer. I was becoming anxious as I could hear Julia starting to rouse. "Mary, just put them in the bowl!" I exclaimed more than once.
I knew I should be valuing my time with the girls, no one bickering or being deviant, but I just wanted to get my task done so I could move on to the piling activities I faced today. I told myself to relax and delight in the way Mary would sneak glances through her long eyelashes to see if I was watching, her thumb quivering at its power to demolish the soft tissue of the berry in hand. But it was supposed to be a five minute task that was turning into an eternity, with each minute eating away at the possibility of the jam ever being produced. I did not want to relieve Mary of her duties because her pride was as vulnerable as the strawberry she held in her hand, but similarly, I quivered with the ability to just crush her spirits and swoop her off the chair. "This is excruciating!" I thought to myself.
Excruciating. I actually thought that word was applicable to my situation. It was "excruciating" to watch and wait, while the existence of my strawberry jam balanced in the hands of Mary. Maybe it is attributed to the observance of the day that the word came so quickly to mind. I was filled with shame. To describe my laughable and really, rather delightful situation with the same term that was created to describe the way my Savior died was shameful. How quick I am to allow the small anxieties of life to consume me. I consider them sufferings, worthy of my complaining.
We so freely use terms without considering the weight of the word. Love, hate, awesome, wicked, starving, excruciating... We profess our love for shoes. Proclaim hatred of brussel sprouts. Describe our physical state of the three hours between lunch and dinner as starvation. Our lack of patience with our little child becomes an excruciating situation. Our overuse and misuse of words eats away at our very ability to communicate the extremity of a true situation; one such as my Lord and Savior dying on a cross for the sins of this world.
He suffered. Ah, yes- suffering- I know all about it. I suffered from a cold last week. It was brutal. Really.
Do we take the time to meditate on how He actually suffered? Or has our tendency to overuse extreme words to exaggerate trivial situations caused us to minimize what He endured to express His love. His love. When we confess our "love" for material things that we abandon when the newest upgrade comes along, how can we understand the concept that drove Him to the cross?
He suffered. It was excruciating. I think Mel Gibson's "The Passion" provided us with a vivid look at the physical torment that Christ went through. I think it is important for us to recognize that. But far more important is to consider that mental and spiritual torment that He suffered for you. It is not easily fathomed and so, not often considered. Jesus had the ability to escape His situation at any moment. He submitted to it. That battle alone had to be exhausting. Then, there was His awareness of the state of the whole world that rested on His shoulders. He knew His disciples deserted Him and were hiding in fear, wondering if they had been deceived in believing in Jesus. Judas had betrayed Him. He knew the inner-workings of the hate that nailed Him on that cross, but knew that even still, some of those responsible would later turn to Him in love and He would receive them. And, He knew that for many, what He did would not be enough to prove God's love for them.
But the least realized aspect of His suffering was by the hand of His Father, the only One who truly loved Him. Isaiah 53:10 "Yet it was the Lord's will to crush him and cause him to suffer." It was the will of the Father that Christ suffer and die for those who did not love Him, so that they might. God poured out His wrath upon the Son that He loved, so that you might consider that He loves you. The very Son was separated from His Father at the cost of your sin. God turned His back on Him, because He would not turn His back on you. He turned His back on Christ, because God knew He would endure it. And He did. And He did it for you. And He knew you might not believe it, but He did it for those who would.
He suffered at the hand of His Father, because He loved you. This was not love like you "love" your new pair of shoes or new car or the ice cream you treat yourself tonight. It was not even love like you feel for your spouse. The weight of that word drove Him to the cross and carried Him through all the suffering. There is no other love like it in the world.
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