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.

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.

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.

Micah 6:8

Like most Christian Reformed girls of a certain age, I grew up attending Calvinettes.  Today it is called GEMS, and it's really like a Calvinist Girl Scouts.  Every meeting began with us singing songs, including our theme song "Jesus is All the World to Me," and reciting our verse.  The leader would say, "Calvinettes, what does the Lord require of you?"  We would respond, in unison, "To do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with our God.  Micah 6 verse 8."  Ask almost anyone my age who grew up in the CRC, and they can sing you a verse and recite Micah 6:8.

I wonder when the reality of that verse started sinking in for me, though.  At what point did I understand that "doing justice" wasn't just about deciding who was right or wrong, that "loving kindness" isn't just about good manners and being nice, and that "walking humbly with God" means more than not bragging.  I wonder sometimes if it has yet sunk in.

A week or so ago in my prayer book, Everyday Prayers, author Scotty Smith (thanks, Writer Friend!) wrote about how our groanings and longings for eternity should cause us to show up rather than check out.  He said that instead of numbing ourselves to the needs of the world as we wait, that longing for Christ to return and God to set things right for eternity should prompt us to work toward bringing that about now.  He asked God, "What will it mean to love mercy, do justice, and walk humbly with you in the broken places of your world?"

Indeed.  What will it mean?  What will it mean for me to be more than one who seeks the difference between right and wrong, more than one who is nice to other people, more than one who doesn't brag about my walk with God?  What will it mean, with the unique way that God has gifted me, the unique personality that I have, the unique place He has put me in His world?  How should I seek to DO justice, to LOVE kindness, and to WALK HUMBLY with my God in His broken world?  And not just in the future or in my profession or in my parenting. 

In my friendships.  In my right now.  In this neighborhood. 

In this day.

Yesterday

I missed blogging yesterday, so today I will attempt two. Either way, I still thought about what I would write, and I was aware of my surroundings. Both of these things are what I love most about writing.

Last night a man was killed. He was found guilty in a court of law and was sentenced to death for his actions. I suppose that if anyone deserves to die for the crimes they have committed, then he did. Killing people at random . . . targeting them like a sniper . . . wow. I can't imagine the fear that instills.

But . . . does anyone deserve to die for their crimes? Is the payment for a life taken ever another life? Is anything ever solved by that? Does it change anything?

"No, I don't feel any closure. I mean it's . . . it . . . nothing changes." This was spoken by a man whose sister was killed by Muhammad. And, at the end of the day, that's the truth. Nothing changes. The victims aren't magically brought back to life, the pain for those grieving doesn't end, and life doesn't go back to normal. Nothing changes.

So . . . was it worth it?

"Deserves it! I daresay he does. Many that live deserve death. And some that die deserve life. Can you give it to them? Then do not be too eager to deal out death in judgment. For even the very wise cannot see all ends." Gandalf, in The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R. Tolkien