A Glorious Dark: Finding Hope in the Tension Between Belief and Experience
A.J. Swoboda
When I read a book, be it
fiction or nonfiction, and I come across something that strikes me—a turn of
phrase or an important point—I fold the corner of the page over, marking that
spot. Then, when I’m finished with the
book, I go back to that page, reread it, and see if something strikes me
again. If it does, I must have really
meant it, and I underline it.
In A Glorious Dark, I had 23 pages folded over. In a 15-chapter book. And I almost skipped the folding over and
went straight to the underlining.
A.J. Swoboda has a way with
words. He mixes humor with heartfelt vulnerability
and thought-provoking seriousness, and he does it all against a backdrop of
Good Friday, Easter Sunday, and the in-between Saturday.
It has been said, “It’s
Friday, but Sunday is coming.” That is
almost always spoken to move us quickly from the trauma, the sadness, the fear
of Jesus’ death and into the celebration of His resurrection. And Swoboda does start with Good Friday. He starts with Jesus’ death, and he asks us
to sit there in the numbness of it. But
then he doesn’t rush from that into the joy and celebration. He calls us to pause and fully enter in to
Saturday first. Saturday, when Jesus had
been killed and was dead in the tomb.
Saturday, when nobody knew Sunday was coming. Saturday, when it seems like my life is
falling apart, and I can’t even find a friend let alone God. Saturday, where we live a good portion of our
lives. Saturday, where Jesus may have
lain dead in a tomb but, just like a river in the winter, there is a glorious
dark underneath.
I have truly never read a
book like this. It is with regret that I
can only recommend A Glorious Dark to
anyone who reads this review, and I can’t actually go out and buy a copy for every
one of my friends, my family members, and people I don’t even know very well.
Disclosure: I received this
book free from Baker Books through the Baker Books Bloggers
www.bakerbooks.com/bakerbooksbloggers program. The opinions I have expressed
are my own, and I was not required to write a positive review. I am disclosing
this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR, Part 255
http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html.
Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Christianity. Show all posts
Thursday, April 02, 2015
Thursday, January 15, 2015
Reviewing: Empowered By His Presence
Empowered By His Presence: Receiving the Strength You Need Each Day
by Kevin G. Harney
Wow. This is a great book. The format, the content, the application--all of it is a wonderful tool for the Christian's journey.
Kevin Harney breaks this book down into a four-week devotional journey (for individuals, small groups, or churches) consisting of a short reading six days a week and a "for further study" portion that can be broken down throughout the week or used for more in-depth study and discussion on the 7th day. In his introduction, Harney discusses power, its origins in our lives, and its usefulness in our lives. He also notes there are three types of people: powerful, powerless, and empowered. Our goal as Christians is to live lives that are empowered by the presence of God and the Holy Spirit.
Through each of the four sections--"Experiencing God's Presence in Suffering, Loss, and Pain"; "Encountering God in the Community of His People"; "Empowered for the Journey by Receiving God's Rest"; and "Propelled Onward by the Call and Mission of God"--Harney tells a story of someone in the Bible and often someone from current times to demonstrate the empowering of God for each step of everyday life. He then concludes every day's reading with a description of how the powerful, powerless, and empowered individual would respond in that situation.
I found these descriptions to be incredibly helpful. I tend to be self-critical and read books like this from a place of exhaustion recognizing (and quickly becoming overwhelmed by) all the steps I have to take to "arrive" at some impossible pinnacle of piety. In reading Empowered, I found each day's reading to be in turns challenging and affirming and encouraging. Then, reading the descriptions I was able to find myself in each reading and note where I need to work to deepen my dependence on God and His power for my day. Sometimes I was surprised to see where I fell; other times I was encouraged. Every time I was challenged by the faith of those who have gone before me and the desire to rest in God's power to meet the needs in my own life and in those around me. The best news of all is that this power exists and is available to each of us . . . and it is the same power and spirit that dwelt within Christ and empowered Him for His daily journey.
Disclosure: I received this book free from Baker Books through the Baker Books Bloggers (www.bakerbooks.com/bakerbooksbloggers) program. The opinions I have expressed are my won, and I was not required to write a positive review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255 (http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html).
by Kevin G. Harney
Wow. This is a great book. The format, the content, the application--all of it is a wonderful tool for the Christian's journey.
Kevin Harney breaks this book down into a four-week devotional journey (for individuals, small groups, or churches) consisting of a short reading six days a week and a "for further study" portion that can be broken down throughout the week or used for more in-depth study and discussion on the 7th day. In his introduction, Harney discusses power, its origins in our lives, and its usefulness in our lives. He also notes there are three types of people: powerful, powerless, and empowered. Our goal as Christians is to live lives that are empowered by the presence of God and the Holy Spirit.
Through each of the four sections--"Experiencing God's Presence in Suffering, Loss, and Pain"; "Encountering God in the Community of His People"; "Empowered for the Journey by Receiving God's Rest"; and "Propelled Onward by the Call and Mission of God"--Harney tells a story of someone in the Bible and often someone from current times to demonstrate the empowering of God for each step of everyday life. He then concludes every day's reading with a description of how the powerful, powerless, and empowered individual would respond in that situation.
I found these descriptions to be incredibly helpful. I tend to be self-critical and read books like this from a place of exhaustion recognizing (and quickly becoming overwhelmed by) all the steps I have to take to "arrive" at some impossible pinnacle of piety. In reading Empowered, I found each day's reading to be in turns challenging and affirming and encouraging. Then, reading the descriptions I was able to find myself in each reading and note where I need to work to deepen my dependence on God and His power for my day. Sometimes I was surprised to see where I fell; other times I was encouraged. Every time I was challenged by the faith of those who have gone before me and the desire to rest in God's power to meet the needs in my own life and in those around me. The best news of all is that this power exists and is available to each of us . . . and it is the same power and spirit that dwelt within Christ and empowered Him for His daily journey.
Disclosure: I received this book free from Baker Books through the Baker Books Bloggers (www.bakerbooks.com/bakerbooksbloggers) program. The opinions I have expressed are my won, and I was not required to write a positive review. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission's 16 CFR, Part 255 (http://www.access.gpo.gov/nara/cfr/waisidx_03/16cfr255_03.html).
Wednesday, December 31, 2014
Everything We Need to Know We Learned While Training Dragons
I meant to share this a while ago, when I first took my three daughters (and my dad) to see "How To Train Your Dragon 2" over the summer. But then life happened (or laziness ensued or distraction set in or insert any other excuse here), and I didn't get around to it. Then my nieces watched it during our family Christmas celebration, and news events happened in our country, and I was reminded.
So, in the theme of things as I close out 2014, better late than never.
While I was watching "How to Train Your Dragon 2," two themes kept coming to mind. They, coupled with something I listened to myself whisper as I held my frightened four-year-old daughter on my lap, made up three truths about life I've learned over the last several years. And, as I watch the news each day, I see how essential it is that I teach them to my girls.
It's been too long for me to give specific references to the film, and maybe they aren't even as important as real-life examples, so here goes nothing.
1) Talking and getting to know new people is better than fighting.
Our country is on the cusp of something major. In college I studied the Civil Rights Movement, and in the cry of silent protesters and angry crowds I see so much history being repeated. On another front there are lines being drawn about gay rights and transgender individuals and what is Christian and what is right. Then there is addiction--both the addicts themselves and the people who desperately love them and want to be enough for them . . .
We're in a mess of hurting people, and "we" as the Church are too often stepping up to the wrong side of those lines. Yes. There is right and there is wrong. But God never asked us to judge the heart of man. He asked us to love His children. If I insist on pointing out the right and the wrong and ignore the brokenness and desperation, am I doing that? No. So. Talking and getting to know people is better than fighting. We need each other. We need each other for what we can learn from people who are different than us, and we need each other for what we can share with people who are different than us. And, most importantly, we need each other because without each other I'm not sure we can ever see a true picture of the God who created each of us.
2) Work together to fight the bullies.
Maybe this lends itself to #1 up there. We. Need. Each. Other. Period. There's nothing more to it than that. There are bullies in this world. Some of them are big and physically violent. Some of them are small and insidious. Some of them are in the pews next to us in our churches. Some of them stand in our capitol buildings. Some of them wear a badge and carry a gun. Some of them work on our news stations or in a cubicle next to us.
But, it's important to remember that not all of the people in those roles are bullies.
As I'm involved in a Global Learners' Initiative through my daughters' school district I have learned one important lesson: NEVER go alone. Find a friend. A buddy. Someone who has your back. Because here's the thing. The bullies are tough. Their insecurities and ignorance and hatred make them formidable, and their desperation makes them dangerous.
So don't go alone.
Let's join together. Alone we can get killed. Alone we can bend and break under the pressure. Alone we can get laughed out of the room.
If you see a bully who needs to be fought, ask a friend to join you. If you see a friend who's fighting a battle, join in. Don't quarrel about differences in technique or philosophy or theology or interpretation. Just fight alongside someone who needs it.
Fight the bullies with truth and goodness. Maybe we'll get beaten in this battle. But we'll win the war.
3) "It might get scary, but it will be okay."
This one is my favorite. During the great battle scene at the end of the moview, my youngest daughter crawled onto my lap and whispered that she was scared. I wrapped my arms around her, squeezed her tightly, and whispered back, "Baby, it will be okay. It might get scary, but it will be okay."
There is truth to this, I realized as I heard my words. That's life, friends. It gets scary sometimes. But it will be okay.
What a year my family had closing out 2013 and throughout 2014. We were betrayed by friends--publicly. Lies were told. Tears were shed. Curse words were uttered. Truth is still taking its time stepping into the light. In the middle of all of it, a brother ended his fight with PTSD. And now, at the end of it (we thought), my dad has been diagnosed with prostate cancer. His prognosis is good, though the cancer is aggressive. Still, it's cancer. There will be surgery and, depending on what the doctors find, maybe treatments.
It might get scary, but it will be okay.
We have faith. And we have God. And we have each other. And we have grace. And we know that in the end, it will all be okay.
Let these three lessons carry us into the new year, friends. Let this be the year that the Church stops caring about semantics and starts caring about the heart of Christ. Let this be the year that the bullies are fought against and that the bullied find us standing with them. Let this be the year of hope in the midst of the fear that everything really will work out in the end. And, in the middle of it all, let us find grace and love and joy.
So, in the theme of things as I close out 2014, better late than never.
While I was watching "How to Train Your Dragon 2," two themes kept coming to mind. They, coupled with something I listened to myself whisper as I held my frightened four-year-old daughter on my lap, made up three truths about life I've learned over the last several years. And, as I watch the news each day, I see how essential it is that I teach them to my girls.
It's been too long for me to give specific references to the film, and maybe they aren't even as important as real-life examples, so here goes nothing.
1) Talking and getting to know new people is better than fighting.
Our country is on the cusp of something major. In college I studied the Civil Rights Movement, and in the cry of silent protesters and angry crowds I see so much history being repeated. On another front there are lines being drawn about gay rights and transgender individuals and what is Christian and what is right. Then there is addiction--both the addicts themselves and the people who desperately love them and want to be enough for them . . .
We're in a mess of hurting people, and "we" as the Church are too often stepping up to the wrong side of those lines. Yes. There is right and there is wrong. But God never asked us to judge the heart of man. He asked us to love His children. If I insist on pointing out the right and the wrong and ignore the brokenness and desperation, am I doing that? No. So. Talking and getting to know people is better than fighting. We need each other. We need each other for what we can learn from people who are different than us, and we need each other for what we can share with people who are different than us. And, most importantly, we need each other because without each other I'm not sure we can ever see a true picture of the God who created each of us.
2) Work together to fight the bullies.
Maybe this lends itself to #1 up there. We. Need. Each. Other. Period. There's nothing more to it than that. There are bullies in this world. Some of them are big and physically violent. Some of them are small and insidious. Some of them are in the pews next to us in our churches. Some of them stand in our capitol buildings. Some of them wear a badge and carry a gun. Some of them work on our news stations or in a cubicle next to us.
But, it's important to remember that not all of the people in those roles are bullies.
As I'm involved in a Global Learners' Initiative through my daughters' school district I have learned one important lesson: NEVER go alone. Find a friend. A buddy. Someone who has your back. Because here's the thing. The bullies are tough. Their insecurities and ignorance and hatred make them formidable, and their desperation makes them dangerous.
So don't go alone.
Let's join together. Alone we can get killed. Alone we can bend and break under the pressure. Alone we can get laughed out of the room.
If you see a bully who needs to be fought, ask a friend to join you. If you see a friend who's fighting a battle, join in. Don't quarrel about differences in technique or philosophy or theology or interpretation. Just fight alongside someone who needs it.
Fight the bullies with truth and goodness. Maybe we'll get beaten in this battle. But we'll win the war.
3) "It might get scary, but it will be okay."
This one is my favorite. During the great battle scene at the end of the moview, my youngest daughter crawled onto my lap and whispered that she was scared. I wrapped my arms around her, squeezed her tightly, and whispered back, "Baby, it will be okay. It might get scary, but it will be okay."
There is truth to this, I realized as I heard my words. That's life, friends. It gets scary sometimes. But it will be okay.
What a year my family had closing out 2013 and throughout 2014. We were betrayed by friends--publicly. Lies were told. Tears were shed. Curse words were uttered. Truth is still taking its time stepping into the light. In the middle of all of it, a brother ended his fight with PTSD. And now, at the end of it (we thought), my dad has been diagnosed with prostate cancer. His prognosis is good, though the cancer is aggressive. Still, it's cancer. There will be surgery and, depending on what the doctors find, maybe treatments.
It might get scary, but it will be okay.
We have faith. And we have God. And we have each other. And we have grace. And we know that in the end, it will all be okay.
Let these three lessons carry us into the new year, friends. Let this be the year that the Church stops caring about semantics and starts caring about the heart of Christ. Let this be the year that the bullies are fought against and that the bullied find us standing with them. Let this be the year of hope in the midst of the fear that everything really will work out in the end. And, in the middle of it all, let us find grace and love and joy.
Friday, July 18, 2014
Finding Hope
I just finished reading The Hour I First Believed by Wally Lamb. It is a book that had long been on my "To Read" shelf on Goodreads, and I was excited to walk past it on the shelf at the library while I was stocking up on vacation reading . . . for my daughter. (I'm not sure how looking for books in the Young Adult section led to me being in the adult fiction section, but those sorts of things happen to me. Any time I'm around books.)
It's a long, long book. Possibly the longest work of fiction I've ever read. Some of the reviews on Goodreads point to the fact that Lamb touches on five or six plot lines in this book, and he certainly covers everything from the Civil War to Columbine to PTSD to women's prisons to the current war in Afghanistan and Iraq to infidelity to . . . nearly everything else. At first glance it really is a disjointed conglomeration that makes the reader wonder why we have held on for so long. And then he says it. On page 685, Lamb has a character say, "Life is messy, violent, confusing, and hopeful."
And that's it.
That's what all these things have in common.
And that's what they have in common with me reading it right now, finishing it yesterday, the day a group of people accidentally shot down a plane full of innocent passengers. Passengers who included three infants and a hundred men and women who had dedicated their lives to saving the lives of others through HIV/AIDS research. And the day Israel sent ground troops into Gaza. Shortly after a local Christian radio host was arrested and charged with the sexual trafficking of a young boy.
"Life is messy, violent, confusing, and hopeful."
I have two friends whose families endured terrible and violent shooting tragedies over the past several years. The devastation has been horrible, and it has changed everything about their worlds. But they have hope.
I also have a friend who died following his battle against PTSD. He fought willingly in a war against bullies and tyrants, because that's who Zack was. But he was baptized, and he loved God, and we have hope that he is finally at peace.
For some reason Columbine has always stayed with me. It has been tucked in my mind since it happened, and I continue to be impacted by it. Perhaps it was the timing--I was a senior in college, so I was aware and had the time to watch the coverage and read about it. Perhaps it was the fact that I joined my friends in taking a group of high schoolers to Columbine just one year after the shootings. Or maybe it was standing in a church there, worshiping with my friends and those high schoolers, just miles from Columbine High School. We sang "Better Is One Day," there in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains alongside Columbine students who knew and loved the children who died. And we sang, with all our hearts and voices, "Better is one day in Your courts than thousands elsewhere." Because even in that mess, that violence, that confusion . . . there was hope.
As I wrote following our break in, I have friends and family members who have lost jobs, been betrayed by friends, been abandoned by spouses who vowed to always stand by them, and have their families continually ravaged by addiction. And all I have to offer them is this.
Life is messy.
Life is violent.
Life is confusing.
But, at the end of all this, life is hopeful.
It's a long, long book. Possibly the longest work of fiction I've ever read. Some of the reviews on Goodreads point to the fact that Lamb touches on five or six plot lines in this book, and he certainly covers everything from the Civil War to Columbine to PTSD to women's prisons to the current war in Afghanistan and Iraq to infidelity to . . . nearly everything else. At first glance it really is a disjointed conglomeration that makes the reader wonder why we have held on for so long. And then he says it. On page 685, Lamb has a character say, "Life is messy, violent, confusing, and hopeful."
And that's it.
That's what all these things have in common.
And that's what they have in common with me reading it right now, finishing it yesterday, the day a group of people accidentally shot down a plane full of innocent passengers. Passengers who included three infants and a hundred men and women who had dedicated their lives to saving the lives of others through HIV/AIDS research. And the day Israel sent ground troops into Gaza. Shortly after a local Christian radio host was arrested and charged with the sexual trafficking of a young boy.
"Life is messy, violent, confusing, and hopeful."
I have two friends whose families endured terrible and violent shooting tragedies over the past several years. The devastation has been horrible, and it has changed everything about their worlds. But they have hope.
I also have a friend who died following his battle against PTSD. He fought willingly in a war against bullies and tyrants, because that's who Zack was. But he was baptized, and he loved God, and we have hope that he is finally at peace.
For some reason Columbine has always stayed with me. It has been tucked in my mind since it happened, and I continue to be impacted by it. Perhaps it was the timing--I was a senior in college, so I was aware and had the time to watch the coverage and read about it. Perhaps it was the fact that I joined my friends in taking a group of high schoolers to Columbine just one year after the shootings. Or maybe it was standing in a church there, worshiping with my friends and those high schoolers, just miles from Columbine High School. We sang "Better Is One Day," there in the shadow of the Rocky Mountains alongside Columbine students who knew and loved the children who died. And we sang, with all our hearts and voices, "Better is one day in Your courts than thousands elsewhere." Because even in that mess, that violence, that confusion . . . there was hope.
As I wrote following our break in, I have friends and family members who have lost jobs, been betrayed by friends, been abandoned by spouses who vowed to always stand by them, and have their families continually ravaged by addiction. And all I have to offer them is this.
Life is messy.
Life is violent.
Life is confusing.
But, at the end of all this, life is hopeful.
Oh, my God. He will not delay.{"Always," Kristian Stanfill}
My refuge and strength, always.
I will not fear, His promise is true.
My God will come through, always. Always.
Monday, September 17, 2012
The Thirty-eighth Sabbath
It was Mission India Sunday at church, and then my Sunday School class and I discussed missions. Those teenagers are pretty smart, and they have some great ideas about what it can be like to be the Word of God to those we meet. All of it reminded me of a song I remember listening to in my bedroom when I was their age. It made me think that maybe the traditional means of missions--walking in to a culture and telling them everything they do is wrong, and they need to change it all to come to Jesus--wasn't good enough. That was all more deeply confirmed in my reading of my favorite "How To" guide to missions: The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver (yes, I get that she wasn't really trying to teach us about missions, but she definitely got her point across with the bits about the river and the farming). Later, the Blessings Tour further affirmed it, and yesterday's message continued it.
So, Missions 101:
* First help them experience love. Then explain the Bible.
* Don't bring the Bible--BE the Bible.
* Missions are (is?) a reminder to Satan that we win, because Jesus already won.
So, Missions 101:
* First help them experience love. Then explain the Bible.
* Don't bring the Bible--BE the Bible.
* Missions are (is?) a reminder to Satan that we win, because Jesus already won.
Oh, the suffering souls"Don't Tell Them Jesus Loves Them" by Steve Camp and Rob Frazier
Crying out for love
In a world that seldom cares
See the hungry hearts
Longing to be filled
With much more than our prayers
And a young girl sells herself on Seventh Avenue
And you hear her crying out for help
My God! What will we do ?
Don't tell them Jesus loves them
'Til you're ready to love them too!
'Til your heart breaks from their sorrow
And the pain they're going through
With a life full of compassion
May we do what we must do
Don't tell them Jesus loves them
'Til you're ready to love them too!
All the desperate men
Are we reaching for the souls
That are sinking down sin?
Oh, cry for the church
We've lost our passion for the lost
And there are billions left to win
And another 40,000 children starved to death today
Would we risk all we have
To see one of them saved!?!
Don't tell them Jesus loves them
'Til you're ready to love them too!
'Til your heart breaks from their sorrow
And the pain they're going through
With a life full of compassion
May we do what we must do
Don't tell them Jesus loves them
'Til you're ready to love them too!
Why have we waited so long
To show them Jesus lives
To share salvation's song!
Why have our hearts become so proud
That we fail to see
To love them is to love God!
And a young girl sells herself on Seventh Avenue
Hear her crying out for help
What will we do?
Don't tell them Jesus loves them
'Til you're ready to love them too!
'Til your heart breaks from their sorrow
And the pain they're going through
With a life full of compassion
May we do what we must do
Don't tell them Jesus loves them
'Til you're ready to love them too!
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Cheating People
This morning, in the coolness of my bedroom (okay, it was probably about 80 degrees--but that's cool if you'd entered the room the night before at about 95), I read Acts 13 in The Message. I've always enjoyed Eugene Peterson's translation as I find him to be sassy, honest, and practical. This particular section is referred to as "Barnabas, Saul, and Doctor Know-It-All." (See what I mean about sassy? You should check out Job!)
As I was reading, I was struck especially by the section for verses 7-11:
Those italics there are mine, because that's the part that jumped out at me. "Why, you stay up nights inventing schemes to cheat people out of God." Wow. Now, this "Dr. Know-It-All" was a wizard. He truly did spend his time trying to distract people from the Gospel message that Paul and Barnabas were trying to share. And he paid for it dearly, with his sight.
But that really got me thinking--about me. I'm certainly not a wizard (no amount of waiting has resulted in the delivery of my acceptance letter for Hogwarts), but I can tend toward being a Know-It-All. I have the answers or I have the challenge to what people want to do. And, I don't stay up nights inventing schemes. I tend to stay up nights praying for a breeze so I can actually fall asleep. But do I still cheat people out of God? Can someone who loves God and has every good intention to serve Him do that?
Wouldn't that be a horrible message for a Christian to receive? "Why, you . . . cheat people out of God." Ugh.
But, if I'm not living as He called me to--if I'm not loving my neighbors, if I'm ignoring their needs, if I'm not participating in my church's work, if I don't have time to listen to a friend's heart, if I say I'll pray and don't, if I'm stingy with the resources God has entrusted to me, if I'm too paralyzed by fear to step out in faith to do what I know He has for me . . . am I cheating people out of God? Because, really, if we're whom He has left on earth to do His work, to be Jesus to the people we meet, then if we aren't doing that are we any better than Dr. Know-It-All?
As I was reading, I was struck especially by the section for verses 7-11:
The governor invited Barnabas and Saul in, wanting to hear God's Word firsthand from them. But Dr. Know-It-All (that's the wizard's name in plain English) stirred up a ruckus, trying to divert the governor from becoming a believer. But Saul (or Paul), full of the Holy Spirit and looking him straight in the eye, said, "You bag of wind, you parody of a devil—why, you stay up nights inventing schemes to cheat people out of God. But now you've come up against God himself, and your game is up. You're about to go blind—no sunlight for you for a good long stretch." He was plunged immediately into a shadowy mist and stumbled around, begging people to take his hand and show him the way.
Those italics there are mine, because that's the part that jumped out at me. "Why, you stay up nights inventing schemes to cheat people out of God." Wow. Now, this "Dr. Know-It-All" was a wizard. He truly did spend his time trying to distract people from the Gospel message that Paul and Barnabas were trying to share. And he paid for it dearly, with his sight.
But that really got me thinking--about me. I'm certainly not a wizard (no amount of waiting has resulted in the delivery of my acceptance letter for Hogwarts), but I can tend toward being a Know-It-All. I have the answers or I have the challenge to what people want to do. And, I don't stay up nights inventing schemes. I tend to stay up nights praying for a breeze so I can actually fall asleep. But do I still cheat people out of God? Can someone who loves God and has every good intention to serve Him do that?
Wouldn't that be a horrible message for a Christian to receive? "Why, you . . . cheat people out of God." Ugh.
But, if I'm not living as He called me to--if I'm not loving my neighbors, if I'm ignoring their needs, if I'm not participating in my church's work, if I don't have time to listen to a friend's heart, if I say I'll pray and don't, if I'm stingy with the resources God has entrusted to me, if I'm too paralyzed by fear to step out in faith to do what I know He has for me . . . am I cheating people out of God? Because, really, if we're whom He has left on earth to do His work, to be Jesus to the people we meet, then if we aren't doing that are we any better than Dr. Know-It-All?
Thursday, June 21, 2012
Enduring Injustice
I recently had a conversation with a friend about something that happened more than a year ago. As is often the case in broken relationships, there was misunderstanding, heartache, and injustice. And a lot of pain. But, at the same time, there is a glimmer of God working.
There are times in our lives when we have to endure injustice. Life isn't fair. Relationships hurt. We get blamed for things we didn't do. Our relationships end, and our hearts break. We want to rise up and defend ourselves. We want to make it right again or at least make sure people know we aren't who or what we've been accused of being.
Surely there are times when we are allowed to do that. We get to defend ourselves in court--with integrity--and we can certainly speak to our motives or explain the reasons behind our actions.
But there are perhaps more times when we are called to endure injustice with grace and courage.
And that's what it all comes down to. When you have done the right thing, when you have spoken the truth in love, when you are taking the fall so that someone else doesn't have to . . . when it's God's will. That's the point where you endure.
It hurts to be wrongfully accused. It hurts like hell to lose relationships that matter. But when you can see that good is happening, that God is still in control, that He is moving, then it's all worth it.
May I always be more than willing to suffer injustice for the greater good of God's master plan.
May I see that in those times I have the opportunity to be Christ to those around me. He suffered the ultimate injustice--His death--for the greater good--our lives.
And may I never stop praying for reconciliation and healing in broken relationships . . . all in His good time.
There are times in our lives when we have to endure injustice. Life isn't fair. Relationships hurt. We get blamed for things we didn't do. Our relationships end, and our hearts break. We want to rise up and defend ourselves. We want to make it right again or at least make sure people know we aren't who or what we've been accused of being.
Surely there are times when we are allowed to do that. We get to defend ourselves in court--with integrity--and we can certainly speak to our motives or explain the reasons behind our actions.
But there are perhaps more times when we are called to endure injustice with grace and courage.
For it is better, if it is God’s will, to suffer for doing good than for doing evil. For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God. (I Peter 3:17b-18)
And that's what it all comes down to. When you have done the right thing, when you have spoken the truth in love, when you are taking the fall so that someone else doesn't have to . . . when it's God's will. That's the point where you endure.
It hurts to be wrongfully accused. It hurts like hell to lose relationships that matter. But when you can see that good is happening, that God is still in control, that He is moving, then it's all worth it.
May I always be more than willing to suffer injustice for the greater good of God's master plan.
May I see that in those times I have the opportunity to be Christ to those around me. He suffered the ultimate injustice--His death--for the greater good--our lives.
And may I never stop praying for reconciliation and healing in broken relationships . . . all in His good time.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
Untying from the Mundane
I've had several conversations with different people lately, and all of our talks have circled around the same theme. The content may have varied--from "dying a slow death" to "need to get away" to "can't do this anymore"--but they have all been born out of weariness. It all came to a head for me the other day, when I was struggling to catch back up with my scripture reading, and I read Jesus' words in John 8:23.
But let me start a few days before that.
A dear new bride came to see me, because she was exhausted--both physically and emotionally. She said she needed some encouragement, and she was hoping I'd have something to share. My first tips--and the only things I have found that enable me to sleep with another person in my bed--were practical: earplugs and Tylenol PM. That can take care of the physical exhaustion quickly.
The emotional stuff . . . yeah, since the "dying a slow death" and "need to get away" and "can't do this anymore" may have all come from my mouth, I'm not sure I can help with that.
See, here's the thing. My newlywed friend, my young mom friends, and I all have something in common. None of us are in a place where things are changing or exciting, and it's entirelypossible probable that none of us are in the spot where we thought we'd be in our early 20's late 20's mid 30's(!). I'm tired. I'm tired of not working in my dream job, I'm tired of fighting with my kids, I'm tired of cleaning up the exact same messes every day and being able to tell you what I'll be doing next Wednesday at 3:30 pm because it's what I'm doing EVERY day at 3:30 pm. It wears on you.
As I talked with my young friend, though, something dawned on me. Last week Monday night, I went to the seminary graduation of a man who is like a brother to my husband. We have been friends with him and his wife for 12 years now, and he spent part of his seminary years as an intern at our church. His wife is my DearWriterFriend who wants to be my DearPublisherFriend and who helped me realize what I want to be when I grow up. It dawned on me that if my husband and I hadn't bought our current house 11 1/2 years ago and been stuck here for all these years, maybe none of that would have happened.
Perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. When we bought our house in November 2000, it was meant to be for 5-6 years. We were never meant (we thought) to still be here when we had school-aged children. Instead, we've stayed. And it has been a source of annoyance and frustration for me for the last several years. But God hasn't let us go. Now, there could be a number of reasons for that, but maybe this is one of them.
Aaron and Wendy moved to Oregon several years ago to be youth pastors at a small church on the coast. We left our church to look for a new church family. When we found out we were pregnant, we decided we needed to find a Calvinist church that would fit our family's doctrine. Since there is a Reformed church at the end of our road, we decided to visit there. We found our home. And we bragged it up. While Aaron and Wendy were in Oregon, we continued to talk about our wonderfully urban-involved and reconciliation-focused and Biblically-rooted church, and God began to birth in Aaron the calling to be a senior pastor. When it came to be time for him to choose a seminary, he chose Western Theological Seminary in Holland, MI, and they chose our church to be their home. Wendy took her old job at a local publishing house, and she began to push me to pursue my dream of being a published writer. (She's pretty good at nagging, right, Aaron?)
Now, Aaron is a graduate, and they are looking for a new church home--this time one with Aaron as the pastor. Someday soon, God will bless a congregation (local, I hope!) with a pastor who has a heart for urban ministry and reconciliation and bringing Jesus to people . . . a heart that was maybe affirmed and encouraged at our great church. And I, for the first time in my adult life, have peace about what I want to be when I grow up. And if we hadn't lived here in this same house, maybe none of that would have happened.
What's the point? Who knows what God is planning, or what He is doing in our every days? Maybe none of what I said is true--maybe God would have brought Aaron and Wendy to our church and me to professional peace without any of that. But the point is that we just don't know. And when you start to think that He just might be working through my boring every day, through my being stuck in this place, in this house, in this mundane reality, it all feels just a little bit less boring and stuck and mundane.
So how did it all hit home? In these words, that I should have read on May 7, the day of Aaron's graduation and three days before my conversation with a young bride:
But let me start a few days before that.
A dear new bride came to see me, because she was exhausted--both physically and emotionally. She said she needed some encouragement, and she was hoping I'd have something to share. My first tips--and the only things I have found that enable me to sleep with another person in my bed--were practical: earplugs and Tylenol PM. That can take care of the physical exhaustion quickly.
The emotional stuff . . . yeah, since the "dying a slow death" and "need to get away" and "can't do this anymore" may have all come from my mouth, I'm not sure I can help with that.
See, here's the thing. My newlywed friend, my young mom friends, and I all have something in common. None of us are in a place where things are changing or exciting, and it's entirely
As I talked with my young friend, though, something dawned on me. Last week Monday night, I went to the seminary graduation of a man who is like a brother to my husband. We have been friends with him and his wife for 12 years now, and he spent part of his seminary years as an intern at our church. His wife is my DearWriterFriend who wants to be my DearPublisherFriend and who helped me realize what I want to be when I grow up. It dawned on me that if my husband and I hadn't bought our current house 11 1/2 years ago and been stuck here for all these years, maybe none of that would have happened.
Perhaps I'm getting ahead of myself. When we bought our house in November 2000, it was meant to be for 5-6 years. We were never meant (we thought) to still be here when we had school-aged children. Instead, we've stayed. And it has been a source of annoyance and frustration for me for the last several years. But God hasn't let us go. Now, there could be a number of reasons for that, but maybe this is one of them.
Aaron and Wendy moved to Oregon several years ago to be youth pastors at a small church on the coast. We left our church to look for a new church family. When we found out we were pregnant, we decided we needed to find a Calvinist church that would fit our family's doctrine. Since there is a Reformed church at the end of our road, we decided to visit there. We found our home. And we bragged it up. While Aaron and Wendy were in Oregon, we continued to talk about our wonderfully urban-involved and reconciliation-focused and Biblically-rooted church, and God began to birth in Aaron the calling to be a senior pastor. When it came to be time for him to choose a seminary, he chose Western Theological Seminary in Holland, MI, and they chose our church to be their home. Wendy took her old job at a local publishing house, and she began to push me to pursue my dream of being a published writer. (She's pretty good at nagging, right, Aaron?)
Now, Aaron is a graduate, and they are looking for a new church home--this time one with Aaron as the pastor. Someday soon, God will bless a congregation (local, I hope!) with a pastor who has a heart for urban ministry and reconciliation and bringing Jesus to people . . . a heart that was maybe affirmed and encouraged at our great church. And I, for the first time in my adult life, have peace about what I want to be when I grow up. And if we hadn't lived here in this same house, maybe none of that would have happened.
What's the point? Who knows what God is planning, or what He is doing in our every days? Maybe none of what I said is true--maybe God would have brought Aaron and Wendy to our church and me to professional peace without any of that. But the point is that we just don't know. And when you start to think that He just might be working through my boring every day, through my being stuck in this place, in this house, in this mundane reality, it all feels just a little bit less boring and stuck and mundane.
So how did it all hit home? In these words, that I should have read on May 7, the day of Aaron's graduation and three days before my conversation with a young bride:
Jesus said, "You're tied down to the mundane; I'm in touch with what is beyond your horizons. You live in terms of what you see and touch. I'm living on other terms." (John 8:23, The Message: Remix)It probably would have come easier if I'd read it when I should have.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Who I Am In The Dark
This is for my pastor, who took me to task for claiming there were lots of thought-provoking moments from our service on Sunday and then only posting a video from someone else. (It was a jest-filled taking to task, like much of the evening was, but I still feel I owe him one.) So, Pastor Tim, this is for you.
For the past several weeks, our pastor has been delivering messages about community and truly caring for each other:
That's who I am in the dark.
But there's something more that hit me.
"Who am I . . . when my windows and doors are shutting my neighbors out?"
Maybe that's one of the other reasons I need to keep my doors open to let my neighbors in. If they're in, then I can't be someone else, can I? Because I can't hide. I'm not in the dark if I'm always willing to walk in the light--with Jesus and with others.
So this is the truth, who I am in the dark. The truth is that I need God. I am sick, and I can't make it on my own. I need Him to help me give and be kind and love. The truth is also that I need others. Even when I want to be apart from them, I need them to keep me accountable and help me to be who I truly am. Whole and undiminished.
For the past several weeks, our pastor has been delivering messages about community and truly caring for each other:
- On April 15, we were challenged by John 21:1-19 when Jesus calls Peter to demonstrate his love for Jesus by feeding His sheep. It was explained that Jesus had taken His disciples full circle. He called them to Himself by making them fishers of men. He called them, Pastor Tim said, to bring people from one kingdom into another--they were to rescue them from the sea (representative of chaos and despair) and bring them into peace and joy. After His resurrection, Jesus again calls them to Himself by telling them to feed His lambs. He called them to carry on His work of being an unconditional and true friend to to the broken by meeting their deepest needs.
- On April 22, Dr. Branson Parler filled in for Pastor Tim, and he preached about freedom. His text was Galatians 5:13-6:2, and he spoke about the truth of freedom. So often we consider Christianity as a list of don'ts, and we want to rebel against that. The truth is that through Christianity, we are free to be whom God has actually created us to be. We want to be free from others when God is calling us to be free to be with others and to care for them.
- This past Sunday, Pastor Tim taught on integrity. Webster defines "integrity" as "firm adherence to a code of especially moral . . . values; un unimpaired condition; the quality or state of being complete or undivided." I like the way that dictionary.com states that final definition: "the state of being whole, entire, or undiminished." Being whole . . . undiminshed. God calls us to a whole and undiminshed relationship with Him, and with others. It does no good for anyone for me to pretend to be someone other than who I am. When I do that, I'm hiding something--I'm in bondage to a facade, an act--and I'm not free to fully love others. There's freedom in Christ. There's freedom in the humilty of falling on my face at the cross and saying, "God, I don't have it all together." There's freedom in admitting that same truth to others. There's freedom in integrity, in being whole and undiminished, complete and undivided.
Now here is my secret; I tell it to you with an openness of heart that I doubt I shall ever achieve again, so I pray that you are in a quiet room as you hear these words. My secret is that I need God--that I am sick and can no longer make it alone. I need God to help me give, because I no longer seem capable of giving; to help me to be kind, as I no longer seem capable of kindness; to help me love, as I seem beyond being able to love.
That's who I am in the dark.
But there's something more that hit me.
"Who am I . . . when my windows and doors are shutting my neighbors out?"
Maybe that's one of the other reasons I need to keep my doors open to let my neighbors in. If they're in, then I can't be someone else, can I? Because I can't hide. I'm not in the dark if I'm always willing to walk in the light--with Jesus and with others.
So this is the truth, who I am in the dark. The truth is that I need God. I am sick, and I can't make it on my own. I need Him to help me give and be kind and love. The truth is also that I need others. Even when I want to be apart from them, I need them to keep me accountable and help me to be who I truly am. Whole and undiminished.
Sunday, May 06, 2012
Friday, May 04, 2012
Arriving Home
I recently had a conversation with some teenagers and young adults about heaven. Even more than heaven, we were talking about one of the final parts of The Apostles' Creed: "From there he will come to judge the living and the dead."
We talked about that judgement, and what it might mean. (Because they're teenagers, we also talked about whether "judgement" is spelled "judgement" or "judgment." And, because they're teenagers, we had plenty of smart phones to use to determine that it is considered correct either way. We all liked it better with the "e.") We talked about how for Christians, when we arrive at the Judgement Day, we will be judged based on Christ's actions and His sacrifice for us. We also talked briefly about how nonChristians will be judged by their own actions when they stand before Christ, because they haven't come under His righteousness. And then we talked about why, if Christians have already been judged (and found worthy), there would be a second judgement. Our curriculum explained that it is so that Christ will be officially and finally and completely glorified for His sacrifice by looking at us and proudly declaring us worthy.
With that "final" thought, I told the students to keep this in mind as we say The Apostles' Creed together in church. I also told them that we could all take comfort from being reminded that we have been declared eternally worthy when we feel inadequate in life. And then I was about to send them on their way.
Before I could do that, one of the young adults said, "But don't you think that judgement will still be scary? I mean, when you get to heaven, and you're looking at Jesus' face, don't you think you'll be freaking out?"
The question sort of caught me off guard, but it didn't take long for a smile to spread on my face and tears to spring into my eyes. "No," I whispered. "No. I think when I get there it will be like arriving home, and I've never been afraid to walk into my house. I belong there, and my parents are there."
Maybe that's why the command from heaven to not be afraid truly is repeated in scripture more than any other command. Surely God commands a holy fear. We are to fear the Lord, in fact. But that fear isn't the fear that is defined in most American dictionaries. It's not a "distressing emotion" brought on by "impending danger." It's an awe. A reverence for this holy, holy God. When I think of that "fearing the Lord," I'm reminded of the passage from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis when the Pevensie children are asking the beavers about whether Aslan is safe. "Safe?" they are asked. "Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."
We have that same comfort in approaching our God. Of course He isn't safe. And of course we should fear Him. But we shouldn't fear Him, and we shouldn't dream for even one moment that walking into our final judgement or standing in front of His throne at our deaths should be scary. Because He's good. Because He's the King. Because those of us who are found in Him have been saved and made perfect by Him. And because when we get there, we're Home. And it should never feel scary to walk into your Home. You belong there, and your Father is there.
We talked about that judgement, and what it might mean. (Because they're teenagers, we also talked about whether "judgement" is spelled "judgement" or "judgment." And, because they're teenagers, we had plenty of smart phones to use to determine that it is considered correct either way. We all liked it better with the "e.") We talked about how for Christians, when we arrive at the Judgement Day, we will be judged based on Christ's actions and His sacrifice for us. We also talked briefly about how nonChristians will be judged by their own actions when they stand before Christ, because they haven't come under His righteousness. And then we talked about why, if Christians have already been judged (and found worthy), there would be a second judgement. Our curriculum explained that it is so that Christ will be officially and finally and completely glorified for His sacrifice by looking at us and proudly declaring us worthy.
With that "final" thought, I told the students to keep this in mind as we say The Apostles' Creed together in church. I also told them that we could all take comfort from being reminded that we have been declared eternally worthy when we feel inadequate in life. And then I was about to send them on their way.
Before I could do that, one of the young adults said, "But don't you think that judgement will still be scary? I mean, when you get to heaven, and you're looking at Jesus' face, don't you think you'll be freaking out?"
The question sort of caught me off guard, but it didn't take long for a smile to spread on my face and tears to spring into my eyes. "No," I whispered. "No. I think when I get there it will be like arriving home, and I've never been afraid to walk into my house. I belong there, and my parents are there."
Maybe that's why the command from heaven to not be afraid truly is repeated in scripture more than any other command. Surely God commands a holy fear. We are to fear the Lord, in fact. But that fear isn't the fear that is defined in most American dictionaries. It's not a "distressing emotion" brought on by "impending danger." It's an awe. A reverence for this holy, holy God. When I think of that "fearing the Lord," I'm reminded of the passage from The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis when the Pevensie children are asking the beavers about whether Aslan is safe. "Safe?" they are asked. "Who said anything about safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."
We have that same comfort in approaching our God. Of course He isn't safe. And of course we should fear Him. But we shouldn't fear Him, and we shouldn't dream for even one moment that walking into our final judgement or standing in front of His throne at our deaths should be scary. Because He's good. Because He's the King. Because those of us who are found in Him have been saved and made perfect by Him. And because when we get there, we're Home. And it should never feel scary to walk into your Home. You belong there, and your Father is there.
Monday, April 23, 2012
Random Thoughts from the Sabbath
I wanted to write something about my day yesterday, but there are several "somethings" in my mind. At this point they don't seem too connected, so we'll call it random for now and see where we end up.
Thought #1
Dr. Branson Parler, Kuyper College professor and member at Fourth Reformed, preached about freedom yesterday. It was an ironic message topic since Beau and I were "free" from our kids for the weekend and were enjoying that the noisy kids in the service weren't ours for a change. As Branson preached on Galatians 5:13-6:2, he talked about how the world so often views freedom as just that--freedom from something. The reality is that God wants to free us for something. He frees us for Himself and He frees us for others.
Yes, God does free us from sin, but it is so that we are free for living the lives that God created us to live. To reclaim some part of that peace and joy and communion with Him and others. One of the things Branson pointed out is that when you chop off your finger (because we all do that, right?), you haven't actually freed it from anything. You have only condemned it to death. The only way a finger can actually be a finger and do finger things is when it is attached to the body. The same is true for us. The only way that we can be ourselves, who we have been created to be and living out the gifts God has uniquely given to us, is when we are connected to the body.
Thought #2
Branson also quoted one of the most beautiful and gut-punching verses in the Bible. It deserves its own thought, because it's just that good. Galatians 5:6 "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love."
Thought #3
I have been teaching 7th-12th grade Christian Ed at church this year. We're covering the Heidelberg Catechism, with varying degrees of success (as defined by the leaders' manual, I suppose), enjoyment (mine and that of my 7th-12th graders), and commitment (again, mine and theirs--I won't lie about that). It's such lovely and weighty subject matter, and unfortunately I don't think our curriculum really speaks to my students or leaves them with much to hold onto.
As I reviewed this week's lesson, I just didn't feel good about what was in my manual. It just felt cheesy and boring. So I decided that since my "full" group would be there (we range from 2-10 on any given week) and we had six Q&As to get through, we would break into pairs and rewrite them. I challenged the students to read the verses that went with the answers and then rewrite the answers in a more personal way. We did Q&A 46 together. Then I gave each pair Q&A 47-50. I took Q&A 51 on my own, because we had only eight students. I knew that what they could come up with could be huge, and I hoped they knew that too. I was asking them to read scripture, think critically about how it applied to this question and to their lives, and then share it with everyone else.
They amazed me.
They shouldn't have, because I knew they could do it. But they did. And I'm so proud of what they shared. I wish I'd recorded it.
Thought #4
As I said, I took Q&A 51. We're nearly finished with the Apostles Creed portion of the Catechism, and these six Q&As are all about the ascended Christ sitting at the right hand of God. The questions range from how is that possible to what it might mean for us. I didn't mean to be so convicted by the one I "randomly" received from God. As restated by me:
Q. How does this glory of Christ our head benefit us?
A. Christ has now been restored to full communion with God and the Holy Spirit, pouring the Holy Spirit's gifts out on us. I, personally, have the gifts--and the personality--I have directly from the Spirit in order that I might use them to build up the body.
Also, by sitting at the right hand of God, Christ has the full army of God ready and willing to do all that He commands. Because He is with the father who created me and loves me, He will let nothing destroy me.
I've been thinking a lot lately about how God has gifted me and the personality that He has given me. I have a passion to strengthen others--to build up the weak with encouragement and to challenge the strong with truth. Could it possibly be that God has given that passion and the gifts to live out that passion?
Thought #5
This thought came today, while I was writing out my "random" thoughts. I chuckle almost every time I use the word "random," because I don't believe for one second that God is a God of random happenstance. I believe that God is a God of providential circumstance. And because I've seen it often enough to know it's true, I sort of knew He would tie my random thoughts together as I wrote--at least as they apply to me.
Thought #1
Dr. Branson Parler, Kuyper College professor and member at Fourth Reformed, preached about freedom yesterday. It was an ironic message topic since Beau and I were "free" from our kids for the weekend and were enjoying that the noisy kids in the service weren't ours for a change. As Branson preached on Galatians 5:13-6:2, he talked about how the world so often views freedom as just that--freedom from something. The reality is that God wants to free us for something. He frees us for Himself and He frees us for others.
Yes, God does free us from sin, but it is so that we are free for living the lives that God created us to live. To reclaim some part of that peace and joy and communion with Him and others. One of the things Branson pointed out is that when you chop off your finger (because we all do that, right?), you haven't actually freed it from anything. You have only condemned it to death. The only way a finger can actually be a finger and do finger things is when it is attached to the body. The same is true for us. The only way that we can be ourselves, who we have been created to be and living out the gifts God has uniquely given to us, is when we are connected to the body.
Thought #2
Branson also quoted one of the most beautiful and gut-punching verses in the Bible. It deserves its own thought, because it's just that good. Galatians 5:6 "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love."
Thought #3
I have been teaching 7th-12th grade Christian Ed at church this year. We're covering the Heidelberg Catechism, with varying degrees of success (as defined by the leaders' manual, I suppose), enjoyment (mine and that of my 7th-12th graders), and commitment (again, mine and theirs--I won't lie about that). It's such lovely and weighty subject matter, and unfortunately I don't think our curriculum really speaks to my students or leaves them with much to hold onto.
As I reviewed this week's lesson, I just didn't feel good about what was in my manual. It just felt cheesy and boring. So I decided that since my "full" group would be there (we range from 2-10 on any given week) and we had six Q&As to get through, we would break into pairs and rewrite them. I challenged the students to read the verses that went with the answers and then rewrite the answers in a more personal way. We did Q&A 46 together. Then I gave each pair Q&A 47-50. I took Q&A 51 on my own, because we had only eight students. I knew that what they could come up with could be huge, and I hoped they knew that too. I was asking them to read scripture, think critically about how it applied to this question and to their lives, and then share it with everyone else.
They amazed me.
They shouldn't have, because I knew they could do it. But they did. And I'm so proud of what they shared. I wish I'd recorded it.
Thought #4
As I said, I took Q&A 51. We're nearly finished with the Apostles Creed portion of the Catechism, and these six Q&As are all about the ascended Christ sitting at the right hand of God. The questions range from how is that possible to what it might mean for us. I didn't mean to be so convicted by the one I "randomly" received from God. As restated by me:
Q. How does this glory of Christ our head benefit us?
A. Christ has now been restored to full communion with God and the Holy Spirit, pouring the Holy Spirit's gifts out on us. I, personally, have the gifts--and the personality--I have directly from the Spirit in order that I might use them to build up the body.
Also, by sitting at the right hand of God, Christ has the full army of God ready and willing to do all that He commands. Because He is with the father who created me and loves me, He will let nothing destroy me.
I've been thinking a lot lately about how God has gifted me and the personality that He has given me. I have a passion to strengthen others--to build up the weak with encouragement and to challenge the strong with truth. Could it possibly be that God has given that passion and the gifts to live out that passion?
Thought #5
This thought came today, while I was writing out my "random" thoughts. I chuckle almost every time I use the word "random," because I don't believe for one second that God is a God of random happenstance. I believe that God is a God of providential circumstance. And because I've seen it often enough to know it's true, I sort of knew He would tie my random thoughts together as I wrote--at least as they apply to me.
- The only way that we can be ourselves, who we have been created to be and living out the gifts God has uniquely given to us, is when we are connected to the body.
- "The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love."
- I knew that what they could come up with could be huge, and I hoped they knew that too. I was asking them to read scripture, think critically about how it applied to this question and to their lives, and then share it with everyone else.
- I, personally, have the gifts--and the personality--I have directly from the Spirit in order that I might use them to build up the body.
My connection to the Body of Christ is essential, both in His figurative body and in the literal body of believers. I will be worthless without that Body, because I have been uniquely gifted as Rebekah Marie (Bierenga) McDowell to do Beka things. If I cut myself off, then I cut myself off to death. And even more than that, if I cut myself off or refuse to do the Beka things that God created me to do, then I deprive the Body of what it needs to live out God's call for it.
This ended up longer than I thought it would be, so thanks for hanging with me on my rabbit trail. I'm starting to wonder if any of it tied together for anyone but me. Oh, well. We always reach a conclusion; it just doesn't always resemble anything close to where we started or where we thought we'd end. And it generally leads us to the beginning of another journey that we never expected but always sort of hoped was waiting for us. That's where I'm standing today. And, as my DearWriterFriend (DearPublisherFriend?) likes to say, "We are living the epilogue." Thanks for sitting in on this page of mine.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
The Lofty Task of Motherhood
I came across this today: " 'Salvation' isn't just about me, BTW. It's good news for the people around me, too, when I live as Jesus taught. His way of living restores relationships, sets injustices right, frees me from anxiety and slavery to money, for instance, and is GREAT news for the most vulnerable people in my life, when I try to live in a way that brings the Kingdom to Earth, as it is in Heaven." (see comments)
It strikes me that, as a mother, "salvation" truly changes the way that I raise my children. It changes the way that I think about, treat, care for my unborn daughter, and it changes the way that I discipline, love, potty train my oldest daughter. It changes the way I live my life. It has to. And it truly does have to be good news--for me, yes, but for everyone around me.
I love the way the author, in his comment above explains salvation--by grace, through faith, not works--to an admitted nonChristian who inquired about how this relevant gospel changes our lives . . . and brings about good works without requiring them. I want to save this forever and share it with my little girls when they ask why we go to church every Sunday. Ellie, Meg, it isn't about making our lives richer or seeing our friends or complaining about how weak the coffee is . . . it's about learning how to make OUR salvation GREAT news for the people we meet every day. For our friends, for our enemies, for our families, for our neighbors, and for the most vulnerable people in our lives.
Does being a Christian have an impact on my parenting? Does being a Christian have an impact on the television I watch? On the jobs I take? On the job I do at the job I took, or the way I talk about my friends or my pastor or my coworker, or the way I spend my money? What about the way I vote and what issues make me angry? It damn well better. But maybe it isn't being a Christian that does it . . . maybe it's "being saved" that does it. Because I'm "saved," my whole life needs to change . . . and it needs to change for the better. Because if my neighbors hate to see me coming, then it surely isn't good news. And I heard once that if it isn't good news, then it isn't the Good News . . . for anybody.
It strikes me that, as a mother, "salvation" truly changes the way that I raise my children. It changes the way that I think about, treat, care for my unborn daughter, and it changes the way that I discipline, love, potty train my oldest daughter. It changes the way I live my life. It has to. And it truly does have to be good news--for me, yes, but for everyone around me.
I love the way the author, in his comment above explains salvation--by grace, through faith, not works--to an admitted nonChristian who inquired about how this relevant gospel changes our lives . . . and brings about good works without requiring them. I want to save this forever and share it with my little girls when they ask why we go to church every Sunday. Ellie, Meg, it isn't about making our lives richer or seeing our friends or complaining about how weak the coffee is . . . it's about learning how to make OUR salvation GREAT news for the people we meet every day. For our friends, for our enemies, for our families, for our neighbors, and for the most vulnerable people in our lives.
Does being a Christian have an impact on my parenting? Does being a Christian have an impact on the television I watch? On the jobs I take? On the job I do at the job I took, or the way I talk about my friends or my pastor or my coworker, or the way I spend my money? What about the way I vote and what issues make me angry? It damn well better. But maybe it isn't being a Christian that does it . . . maybe it's "being saved" that does it. Because I'm "saved," my whole life needs to change . . . and it needs to change for the better. Because if my neighbors hate to see me coming, then it surely isn't good news. And I heard once that if it isn't good news, then it isn't the Good News . . . for anybody.
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