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"If I could live anywhere in time I would go to the time of Jesus. I would listen to Him preach. I would get baptized. I would praise Him and love Him. You never know, I might turn into one of His diciples! I would also like to improve my faith, so listening to Jesus would be a great thing. I also want to see Bibles back then. I would love it."
It's so simple when you see it from a child's perspective, isn't it?
There are times when we know beyond a shadow of a doubt that we need spiritual healing. I know that about myself right now. It is not about church, or rules, or "Christians", but about connecting with the Spirit of God and dealing with nothing else. I long for that.
I don't know why I slip so easily into the role of "Christian", and during those times He is not what I am focusing on. I'm focusing on how I look to the right people so I don't get in trouble again, if I'm saying the right things, appearing in a way that shouts "I am a good believer". Why is it, for me, the two don't go together. Being Christian is not about anything other than His love, so why can't I fight the other stuff, the stuff that has nothing to do with Him? The times I feel so in love with Him are the times when I've actually been away from my church for a bit. It is in those moments when I feel free enough to sing to Him, dance before Him, and not feel judged for how I look. I don't understand why I'm so self concerned at church. I caught myself this last week, singing loudly, moving from side to side as I sang about His love. I caught myself because I felt the eyes of those next to me on me. Like a teen caught making an ass of herself at a concert I stopped right in my tracks. It took all my strength not sing like that again. Should I care? Of course not, yet how uncomfortable I was to find an entire family starring at me!
I only need Him right now! Relationship. I know we all need fellowship and teaching and communal worship, so I'm not negating that. I'm saying for me, I need His Spirit touching mine, reminding me what this walk is truly about.
I'm sure I'm not alone when I say that when I'm hurting I turn to the book of Psalms. I learned a long time ago that life is not always pretty, and clearly, in His grace, God provided a way to show us how even a man after His own heart prayed during those times. I just have to add here how I'd love to be known as "a person after God's own heart".
I've made no secret of the fact that certain things have happened lately, both in my real world as well as my cyber world that have been painful. I don't blame anyone, I'm a big girl and have made lots of mistakes, but OUCH! So as I sought those versus to remind me that God is here with me in these times, I had a light bulb moment. (Corry, I give you permission to remind me of what I'm about to right when I start whining!) Every time I read about "the wicked prospering" I read after how it is God who deals with that and my job to "trust in the Lord and do good", Psalm 37:3. Over and over, as David shares the fear and pain he is feeling he is reminded how he is required to continue in faith and not fret, not allowing those who sought to cause him harm either give him an excuse to sin, especially in the form of seeking his own justice, or rob him of the fact that his joy, his provision is in the Lord alone. It didn't mean that David didn't feel the pain of betrayal or the fear of what his enemies had planned for him. We are allowed to feel. We are allowed to fear. It's how we handle those emotions that can either rob us of our joy or strengthen our faith. Pain, betrayal, deliberately aimed attacks are going to hurt. Loss and the pain that goes along with it are a huge part of my story. The fallenness of our world dictates that even brother will turn against brother, and those are very painful wounds. The dictate to trust and continue in good works is very clear.
I've struggled with time. Time spent worrying, time spent in anger, frustration, fretting. We may be eternal beings, but until we reach Heaven we are governed by the laws of life here, and we cannot get time back. I'd rather spend mine trusting God than fretting over evil doers.
Maybe it's just me, but every time I become involved with a particular church the things I see horrify me. Maybe it's because I'm too aware. Some go to church on Sundays, leave for the week and come back again on Sunday. I don't have that luxury with my girls at the school that is our church. The things I see, the gossip, the, yes, hypocrisy, especially the little societies that form in which membership seem required just to sit in a certain location all serve to remind me how fallen our world is. And while I can say "I know this place, these people", others may not have that advantage. Than what? They come into a society where the pecking order is already established, and try to find a place if they choose to become involved, when the most important aspect of fellowship is learning the word. Yes, and worship, but I can sing and worship and pray with friends and family anytime, but I can't get the level of teaching I desire unless I'm at church, being taught by someone who has either gone to school for or been blessed with the ability to know and share God's word.
It's not even the cliques that disturb me, because I'm sure people could look at me and some of my friends and say that we are the same way. It's the absolute delight I've witnessed in the shutting out of someone that has made me sad. Of course I have friends, of course there are some blogs read daily and comment on as often as possible. It's those friendships that motivate me to keep reading, to keep writing, even when I wonder if it's doing any good. But I have and never will ignore somebody. Whether they believe the way I do or not, I will not ignore someone simply because they aren't part of some little circle, than sit around in self righteous delight while others are wondering what they did so wrong.
God said there are no men or women, no slave or master, no Jew or Gentile. We are all the same in His eyes. I have watched a dear sweet lady slowly transitioned from one level of believer to another, and the accompanying outcasting, simply because she has the courage to stand up and ask the hard questions. Her questions are because of her love and desire to experience God, yet she chose something not on someone Else's program so bam, she's out. How does this exemplify to a new believer or church visitor the unbiased love God carries for each and every one of us? How does this help my friend, who loves God more than some at a nameless building who sit around cracking jokes about others simply because they feel so good about themselves they may forget that "there but for the grace of God go them".
So yes, I'm scared, (and apparently a little angry!) for our church, the Christian church, as it creates elitists at the expense of others.
Now I need to add this. I don't think it can be helped. Where ever there are groups and cliques there will be those who feel injured our left out, and those who feel "part of" so therefore better than. I watch with my nine year old all the way up to bridge clubs. I pray that all who proclaim the love of Christ would have their hearts and minds set on the things that are of true value. To those who are trying to find their places at new churches, as new or long time believers, I pray that we can grow up and not employ playground tactics for self grander, and remember what He says about loving our neighbors.
I have spent all week doing only two things. Recovering from food poisoning, with long lasting and painful accompanying symptoms, migraines especially, and somehow driving back and forth from my kids school, sometimes as late as ten p.m. The reason behind these late nights, Drama!!!! These poor kids have been staying at school from 3:15 until ? just to prepare for this years production, "Give And Take". While I have no idea how Colette and I have managed to drive so many hours at all hours dropping off kids during this time, I wouldn't have changed a thing. I also had to be there at 5:30 last night for a 7:00 curtain, and was stationed backstage where it was my job to help actors get in and out of costume in a timely, orderly fashion. They couldn't have done a better job!
The play emphasized to me the reason my kids attend a private Christian school in an area where the public schools have such an amazing reputation. I never began parenting with the thought of sending them anywhere but what our boundaries dictated, and I love the public school system and have great faith in it. Call me naive, but I worked for it in L.A., and a more dedicated group of people I have yet to meet.
So what was the play about? Giving. Taking. Consequences of both. No amazing musical numbers, no expensive costumes or props. Just the kids, using the resources available to them, telling tales of giving and taking. Tales of selfish greed and selfless sacrifice, each demonstrating that whatever type of person you choose to be, others will be affected for better or worse. The sad-est tale, "The Crane Wife", from Russia, told of how a Crane selflessly weaved her feathers into beautiful fabric for her greedy husband to sell, until she could no longer retain the strength to maintain her human form and flew away bare and bleeding. In a Native American tale, an orphaned girl burns the only possession she has of her long lost family, a handmade doll,and scatters the ashes over the barren land to bring rain. Though sad, she goes from being known as "The One Who Stands Alone" to "She Who Loves Her People". There were a few others, mimed, funny, danced out. All in all, for just a group of kids on a bare stage with few props it was astounding.
This is why. These tales, which emphasize the importance of sacrifice, illustrate the reason. This is why I pay when I can't really afford it, drive everyday while I watch the school bus come through my neighborhood, push a trashcan around when I could be watching General Hospital. Christ is woven throughout every element of my daughters days. They are moving through their routines, going to Bible class, having morning worship, attending Chapel, putting on plays, studying other cultures in relationship to our Creator without even comprehending they are being educated in a different way. They grumble and complain, just like kids everywhere, but everything they are learning is framed in Christ's love, His sacrifice. That is why. I adore my kids more than anything , and giving them this Christian education by osmosis is by far the best thing I've ever done for them
Today I gave in to the humiliation shadowing me all week.
Today I lied, "I have a migraine, my loves", but what is hurting my head has no real term. There is no pill to fix it.
Today I pulled my wonderfully soft, down pillow over swollen eyes, and let the sent of Tide and Downey soothe my senses. I left behind the ancient, hard blue chairs where I would have sat watching, not hearing a word outside of my thoughts. What did he say, to whom did he say it? I would have searched fiercely the eyes of all who shook my hand, hugged me in a caricature of intimacy to see if they knew.
Today I let the humiliation and paranoia win. I will be my own prayer vigil today. I will be my own worship band, my own Bible lesson, my own building.
Today I will allow myself to crumble under judgment that is spoken aloud "in His love". I will shove my needs for the body under the well worn rug of "in His love", and give myself this day of deconstruction and humiliation, which were not intentional, just side benefits of "in His love".
I didn't go to church today.
There are so many issues I could address in this one post. First of all, the issue of conformity in the church vs. the freedom to be the people God, who I'm assuming created us differently on purpose, created us to be. There is so much talk of "death to self", which I've always taken to mean death to the side of our flesh that would have us living totally selfishly, or the constant putting our own needs above others needs to a degree that we cause them harm, and lastly the desire we have to live independent of God. I do not believe that we are supposed to ignore who we are created to be in order to be what someones definition of a "Christian" is. That is one reason I left my old church. I felt acceptance only when I fit in, never just for being myself. So when it turned out that the issue the women from my daughter's school had with me had to do with my appearance, my manner of dressing and other things that had to do with me being me, I once again had that feeling of judgment for me being me. Yes, I wear makeup, Yes, I dress in a way I like, even if it's not "like other moms". And yes, I like music that is not just Christian, enjoy movies, have my own views regardless of what the school says. I encourage my girls to question what they are taught, because in the end they come to believe because they truly believe, not just because it's what they've been taught. I've watched as they become strong spiritually because of their own hearts and beliefs. It's rewarding to see, and I believe is what gives their beliefs the sticking power to handle the temptations they'll face.
What on earth gives someone the right to say it's a bad thing that I don't look like "the other moms"? Why is that bad? Am I supposed to look, act, think, the same as everyone else? Conformity and judgment, issues that I've had to deal with all week.
The other is the issue of the responsibility of a believer to other believers. I don't want to be a stumbling block for anyone. So I guess I can change certain things in certain situations so as not be one, but if a person still has issues am I supposed to disappear from the face of the earth just to accommodate? How much of my brother's keeper am I required to be, and am I supposed to give myself up? I don't know. These are issues that I haven't had to deal with in awhile because I'm finally plugged in again to a church/school, and there will always be those who find fault with something. It's just so easy to not become involved and avoid this all together, but I know that that's not right for my kids. so I plug along.
Thank you to everyone who prayed for me during this situation. I was stressing over being confronted in this manner, yet afraid of leaving unresolved issues to fester and cause a problem with my worshiping.
Here's the problem: I have had two good friends, parents of kids my teen goes to school with. One goes to our Bible study, different church, the other our church and not our Bible study. Both are amazing, wonderful moms and friends. However, today I was told that they have something they need to talk to me about, and have committed to each other not to speak of it to me unless I agree to meet them when and where they say. I literally begged to be given an inkling of what they were upset with me about, as I went through this after Lenny's death. Everyone and their mother had an issue with how I was handling my grief. Some worried I was letting it ruin my life, others worried that I wasn't expressing it enough. Every time I was seen with a man, even a brother in law or pastor I was spoken too, so I am very anxious any time someone chooses to confront me with issues they have. I expressed this, but to no avail. So I said that my first reaction was no, that if she couldn't understand where I was coming from and talk to me a bit there and then that I was too uncomfortable to have some sit down confrontation. Now, I was not in anyway saying that I wouldn't listen to their concerns, especially if they are Biblical, but that I don't do well in that setting, and could we please take that into consideration? Her response was that they wanted to invite me over and "spring it on me", and that's why they didn't want me to have any knowledge before hand.
Now I'm sorry, but as much as I would be open to whatever they have to say, I won't do it this way. I won't be put in that situation after everything I've been through, and, quite honestly, if they are motivated by love, it seems to me they would want to address the issues however possible. The other thing I have come to think, as I look back over the last few months, is that the issues they have are more about my personality. I'm open, sarcastic, in a relationship that I don't talk to them about, so they don't know if he's saved, living here, whatever. Also, I have talked to both women about relationships in general, and was honest about how I feel regarding sex, life, worry for myself and teenager. Maybe I was to transparent and they are worried, but in the end one of the comments made and the way it was made had to do with my lack of participation in Bible study. I signed up but don't go, mostly because I have chronic pain and getting up and out is stressful for an hour of talk. That's why I do as much as I can on line, and never miss church unless I'm truly bedridden or one of the kids is sick. Which is really rare.
Whatever their issues with me, do I have to do a powwow the way they dictate? Am I given no choice because they are doing this "In His love"? Do my feelings in this matter at all, or am I Biblically bound to avail myself? Can it not be mutually agreed upon? I don't know the answers, I don't know what I'm supposed to do. And I'm angry, because I felt treated like a child getting disciplined, not an adult "sister in Christ" being dealt with as such. I don't want my anger to distract me if there is something I need to know, but right now, it is.
What if there were no rewards, for lack of a better term, for doing the right thing?
Recently I had a chance to choose between my own selfish desires and the choice that would be considered "right". When I made the choice, it was more difficult than I would have ever imagined. I was sacrificing the gratification that would have come right away for an elusive feeling of knowing that I wasn't sinning. A friend kept telling me "God will reward your obedience", but in truth that didn't mean anything, so huge the pull toward what I wanted. I would have to say honestly that I did not choose the right path because of any promise, but because I wanted to be able to have a clear conscience before God, and it was the kind of situation that could only lead to pain.
Well I will say this. God did indeed give me peace after I followed through, it didn't come immediately, and that peace has allowed me to stay strong in the hour of temptation, and that is the reward. I didn't win the lottery, I didn't find true love, but I did discover peace.
Now, that peace is the kind that surpasses understanding. I know this because I have had no desire for what I gave up. At first I missed it with such a strong sense of loss I wept, but now, the knowledge that being obedient is better than anything else I could have wanted.
Except with or without that peace, I long to think I'd still have made the right choice. Not that I would have had the strength, I'm not talking about that, but that my love for God, my desire to be pleasing to Him, would be enough to cause obedience. I don't know, being right with God is a reward. Whatever else He bestows my way, I never want that to be my motivation for doing the thing He'd want me to do.
Again, I loose my thought in a jumble of words, but my prayer is that my obedience will always be independent of His rewards and based on love, His for me, mine for Him.
What I want. What I expect. When do these things cross the line from healthy desires to idolatry? My expectations have become my curse. Maybe they always were. For as long as I can remember I've wanted certain things and have pursued those things, even to my own detriment. Even to the point of forgetting that my desires may not be what God wants for me. I believe that He gives me the desires of my heart, but is what I'm doing with those desires, healthy, spiritually or otherwise? I mean honestly, when my expectations become the cause of either my happiness or sadness I feel that I have crossed a dangerous line. The more my expectations are not met, the harder I fight for them to be. I don't feel as though I'm being very clear, but the best i can say is this: In my marriage I wanted certain things. It was easy to say they were the right things because they revolved around Christ. I wanted a family, a husband who lead our family in the ways of the Lord, kids who would pursue the same things that mattered to me. I wanted passion, love, respect. In the thirteen years before my husband's death I fought hard for those things. When he died I could not believe that we'd never reach this apex of my desires. When I look back now I feel a certain level of shame, because I was seeking what I wanted, and I would get so angry at my husband when he let me down. He was a leader, in his own way. He loved and respected me, but not enough, never enough. It always came down to my expectations. He was who God created him to be, and my expectations really had no business in that. I'm not saying that there are not healthy components of marriage that need to be pursued, though out, shot for, just that our inability to have our expectations met should not be the plumb line with which we judge. In fact, what do we really have the right to expect?
I can say now that the relationship I'm in does not meet my expectations. And I'm mad. But I don't want to worship those expectations. I don't want to build them up into this idol that holds the key to my salvation, constantly seeking to have my expectations met rather than the God who has given me this need to be known, to be understood. For so long I have wondered how to take the intangible, invisible God and allow that to be enough. whether or not this relationship ever meets all my needs there is One who can. All the struggles, the death of Lenny, the death of those dreams, those expectations should have taught me that expectations are particles of dust. They can blow away one day, and the only true God will still be standing.
I do listen. Yesterday especially. We are, by of course no coinsidence, studying the life of Abram in both my Bible study as well as in church. I am loving the way the teaching is going. Instead of focusing on the negative, all Abram's flaws, the trouble his lack of faith caused, and of course his "partial obedience" where Lot was concerned, our Pastor is holding fast to the miracle of his life. The faithful times, the obedient times. Not that we're overlooking the whole picture of his life, just not forgetting that there was a moment when his faith was counted to him as rightousness, and he had his salvation!
I write furiously during church, and always feel so sorry for whoever is next to me, because not only am I taking notes on the serman but journaling. So I'm always trying to keep my moleskin out of view of the people around me. I contort into all these shapes and make way too much noise between my Bible, moleskin, highlighter and pen. Plus, being the addict that I am, the diet coke I usually have placed under the seat in front of me. Every Sunday it gets knocked over, but lucky for our crappy burbur you can't tell!
As I went back over my notes I discovered some things I really don't remember writing. The thing that jumped out at me the most was that God actaully took time to encourage Abram. He used three metaphors to do this. The dust of the earth, the sand on the shore and the stars in the heaven were all used to paint a picture for Abram of his future decendents. I don't know, I just love knowing that Abram's feelings mattered enough for God to take the time to do this. Also, He affirmed to Abram that He was his shield and great reward. Ok, so this is where my own personal notes took a turn. God has provided for my family since the death of my husband. We aren't rich by any means, but we have our needs met and lots of wants too. So this got me thinking. I believe two very specific things about God. First, that He is full of grace, and that this gets overlooked so many times because we as humans are not full of grace. So we do this humanizing of God thing, that paints Him in a light that probably has nothing to do with who He really is, but allows us to fit Him into our little worlds. Second, while I believe in His grace and desire for our well being, I also know that we have responsibility. Yes, He can supernaturally alter circumstances and probably is doing so on all our behalfs right now even though we don't see it. But there will be a day when we have to face the consequences of our choices. Free will, to me, is both a blessing and a curse!!! Because at times I make really horrific choices. Does He intervene? I believe He has and does and always will, even if I don't always know the logistics. He has taken care of our financial needs, but what have I done to honor His work? That was when I mentally uttered the most pathetic prayer of my life. "Oh God, please change the space and time continuem so I can redo the things I've so messed up". However, knowing that's unlikely, I added that only He can change my heart, and only He can forgive my sin, and if it's not to late I'd like a chance to prove that I long to be the steward of this life He's given me. And being God, I know he heard.
I've been thinking a lot about our Pastor's last two sermons. The theme has been unity, what it is and why it is so important. I'm not planning on repeating everything he said in the last two weeks, but I have been pondering how the modern church is going to find it's way to what is clearly so important to Jesus. One thing I never thought about was that it was the last thing He prayed for, "I in them". Unity is us as a body with Christ as our head. It's not just about us, even though we in our flesh tend to think it's all about us. It's not agreeing on worship styles or how services are to be run, but about us winning souls to the Kingdom, and very rarely does this have our own comfort at it's center.
Ephesians 4 says "There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called in one hope of your calling, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is above all, and through all and in you all." It is the same God in me as is in my brother or sister. The things that cause divisions have nothing to do with this God, but with our issues. I believe God foresaw this problem, and that is why it is written for us: "I do not pray for these alone, but also for those who will believe in Me through their word, that they all may be one, as You, Father, are in Me, and I in You; that they also may be one in Us, that the world may believe tht You sent Me." John 17. The thing heaviest on Christ's heart before His crucifixion was that not only His believers of His time would find unity but that those of us who would later come to believe would also be one with Him.
I'm not saying there is one thing wrong with the way any one church chooses to do things. And the last thing I want to do is accuse anyone of anything, for I myself am so far from letting the pettiness of this life go and focusing on what this true unity would look like in my own life. I'm just pondering what difference we'd make in this world if we truly did understand it, and if as a Church, not a building but a body, we sought God's desire first and our own comfort second.
You know when you just hear one of those messages that makes you resonate with joy because the truth of what is being said finally makes something ungraspable graspable? That was me on Sunday. I've been doing this Bible study about believing God. Believing what He says about us, His children, Himself, His power, His word, and I discovered that I approached His truths the way I do everything else. With skepticism. It seems to good to be true that we can speak and move mountains simply because we believe. Or that He loves us, loves me, enough to die. That I am forgiven, redeemed, accepted, adopted. Who else in my life has demonstrated any of that? My mom drank herself out of life and I don't know my father. My husband of thirteen years but partner and best friend for twenty is dead.
While preaching on Abram on Sunday our Pastor brought up some points that I've known for years, but heard with a believing heart and spirit changed something inside of me. God gave clear directive to Abram, yet in his humanity his trust was limited to his fear, and so for fifteen years he was not where he was supposed to be. Yet did God forsake him? Did God's love for him falter? Abram entered Egypt, allegorically the "world". and while there allowed his circumstances to cause him to doubt and fear. His fear then distorted the truth. The only way Abram got back on track was to return to the place, the alter, where God had revealed Himself. Once he called upon the name of the Lord his distortions became clear visions of what he was to do. Did he obey completely? Those who know the story know that he did not. He was to leave everyone, but took Lot. Even so, God loved Him, God used him, and God blessed him.
I have heard this story from the pulpit many times, but never before with the focus being from God's point of view. Held up as an example, Abram's story has been used to demonstrate the consequences for disobedience, or partial obedience. But for the first time I saw the amazing love of God in Abram's flawed faith. And I believed.
Our Missions Week has come and gone, and this is the first time I've been able to process it. New to our church and unfamiliar with those we support, I made the choice to attend as many events as I could. I had no idea how deeply I would be impacted.
It was not just hearing the stories of success, or seeing what our church family was doing to win souls, it was a much more personal experience. For one thing, many of the countries where we are stationed are Muslim. As you can imagine the 9/11 attacks were discussed, referenced, power pointed and used as examples countless times. I cannot begin to explain what this did to me. Though not about me, about God's amazing work, I still felt singled out during every service. But here's the thing. The events of that day, the day that took my husband's life along with thousands others is responsible for changes in the Muslim community that might be years and years away. Human rights, women's rights, religious principles. All these things are now being looked at, changed. People are winning souls for Christ because the Muslim people do not wish to associated with the Radical Islam that led to 9/11. There was a prayer rally two blocks from Zarquawi's childhood home. Over a thousand people worshiped Christ there. Are the deaths that occurred that day worth it? A few thousand lives for the salvation of possibly millions some day? Jim Elliot's missionary party always carried guns with them. Yet on the day they were speared to death they refused to defend themselves. Why? These men had wives and children. The reason they did not shoot their attackers is, as they put it, they knew they were going to heaven and they knew their attackers were not. They were ready, those who killed them were not.
I pondered. How seriously do I take others salvation? Enough to see my husband's death as worth it in the end? At this point, and I'm so ashamed, but no. The bigger picture hasn't seeped into my heart yet while I watch the pain my daughters endure daily. If it were just me, just my life so drastically changed maybe I'd be mature enough to say yes. I believe I could find peace in my suffering knowing that so many others will now dwell eternally with our Lord. And I don't believe that I will always feel the way I do right now. I know my husband. I know he believed in doing what had to be done today to ensure securities for tomorrow. And not just for his family but for all. He would probably be humbled to be part of something that leads to such change. I guess my bottom line is this: While my head understands and rejoices at the many who are coming to the Lord as a direct result of that day, my heart aches for the loss so many have had to endure since. There are reasons God had me hear this information. I am sure one day, with His love, this knowledge will bring me peace.
I want to understand spiritual warfare. I need to, because I believe I have witnessed it and have been in the midst of it. I was churched in a literal Bible church that gave the devil credit for everything wrong in the world and our lives. I've been to other churches that thought we were giving him too much credit. When we struggle with sin, people, even ourselves how much is just because we live in a fallen world? How much of it is what I've brought on myself? And, yes, how much of it is warfare? I've been in situations that have felt supernatural, both evil and beautiful.
I'm asking for help understanding because I see my twelve year old struggle with things since her baptism that just weren't there before. She is a believer, she already has the victory, yet she's only twelve, she has years ahead of her where she will have to choose to invoke the power of her Savior. At 38 I am now just beginning to understand that victory doesn't mean things going the way I want them, but gaining the ability to cling to God and allow Him to work out His Will regardless of my personal feelings. Satan would have me believe that when things don't go the way I want God has deserted me. When I was twelve, that would have made more sense, so I worry. I didn't become a lover of Jesus until seventeen, and even than it was years before I understood sovereignty. Jess is so young, how will she know when she's in the midst of warfare, and how I can I help her come out the winner? Ultimately I know her faith is her own, and she will have to find her way just as I did mine. But I sure wish someone had warned me how hard this raising kids thing could be.
We were asked in my Bible study to think on those elements of creation that speak of God's handy work. Most people who claim to believe in creation alone are often ridiculed. I see it all the time. Either they are questioned, made fun of, or embarrassed when trying to stand their ground. I certainly have been in that place many times. Even at the Christian school my girls attend. There seems to be this new line of thought I've heard. That God is the Creator, but maybe He used elements of evolution in His master plan. This could very well be true. I wasn't there, so I don't begin to know. There are hard things we as believers are asked to take on faith. Sometimes, I guess, it helps our finite minds to find ways to reconcile what we believe in our faith with what seems obvious to our minds. I don't knock either way.
When I stop and ponder the world, the way I was asked to for class, I can't help but be awestruck at the number of variables that had to line up to create a planet that sustains life. The odds of it happening "by chance" in my opinion are to numerous to count.
I answer my question this way: What parts of creation speak to me about God, who He is? I find it beautiful that our planet is divided into many ecosystems. Those creations that need water are in water, while those who need jungle, desert, trees and sky are right where they are supposed to be. Plants thrive on their own. Nature takes care of itself. I also love the extremes. I love the heat of the desert and the cold of winter in the north. I believe that in creating such a diverse world and caring for it God is demonstrating His nature. He is extreme, and He is enough to care for all His creation. And of course, how can we deny His gifts? The animals that entertain just because the are. The sky at sunset or sunrise, or a perfect day at the beach. The moon is a beautiful nightime companion, but where would earth be without it's gravitation pulls?
The more I think about it, the more silly it seems to assign all these things to a chance theory.
Today I was working in my Bible study workbook. It came back to me quickly, surfing the Bible for answers to the questions posed about faith. A running theme of this study is believing in miracles, God's ability to perform them in this day and age.
I discovered something as I was reading. The teacher was talking about how at various times our faiths falter in light of our circumstances. We may not feel so close to God when things are bad. We may feel as though He doesn't love us when things don't turn out the way we wish, or God, even though he could answer a prayer a different way, chooses not to.
Everyone in class I'm sure thought that loosing my husband in 9/11 would be an example of this. And I guess it was. Not so much that I doubted God. Actually I never did. What I felt was confusion that my husband was dead. But I didn't doubt that God was still who He said He is. I didn't doubt that He could do whatever He chooses. I did not and do not understand the loss of my husband, but my belief in God being God is different from what happened to me. The choice to believe in His love for me, His good will for me despite this event was made. He is who He says He is despite circumstances. That was a truth when Jesus walked among men, it's the truth as He sits at the right hand of the Father. I don't pretend to understand or be ok with not having my husband or my girls not having their daddy. But I would never assume my situation is the plumb line to judge God's power. I guess what I'm trying to say is that my faith is strong. My love for Christ strong. Do I wish my husband's death never happened, absolutley! Does it happening mean He is not God? No way!!!! I would never presume to think that.
I guess I'm relieved that my faith is in tact. It was a relief to see my spiritual life elevated above the "vending machine" mentallity that only believes in God when everything in life is smooth. My love for Him, my belief in Him, well that is based on who He is, who I know He is, and nothing else. For me, that is growth, and can only be explained by His love for me. And to ponder, does His allowing my husband, the father of my babies to die mean His love for me is not great? Again, No, No, No. God is wild and mysterious and allowed to do whatever He thinks is best. I stand in awe of this God, who knew the pain His beloved would suffer at this choice, and yet knew in His love it was the only thing to do. I do not like for one minute that my husband is gone, and I will suffer with the images of his death for the rest of my life. But I trust God to heal me, I trust His love for me and I relish in the ways He has taken care of me since this awful event.
Ok, yes I'm rambling. I'm tired, sick and have a headache. But it seemed important to state that even in my pain God has worked in my life, and the lives of my daughters. To pretend I don't see His goodness even in this situation would be a lie. And that's one thing I just couldn't tolerate in myself.
Today is my first day of a new Bible study. But here I am at home, sitting in my quiet living room, listening to my large dog snore and snort through some dream land. I was so excited when I signed up, first on the list. Yet for some reason the thought of particpating in a group study suddenly seems to much like the "way it used to be", and I didn't want to be there. I don't want to smile as I introduce myself, sharing parts of myself that I haven't figured out yet how to hide. How to explain my life, which right now is very different than the other women I know? There are some in the group who already know me pretty well, and I did look forward to spending time, getting to know them, digging deep into the Word of God with like minded individuals. So for today I just "ditched". If I don't go next week then I guess I'll have to be a Bible study drop out!
"So, here we are, the fourth anniversary of 9-11". And so began my daughter's testimoney as she prepared to be baptised. Six months ago when she signed up for this event she had no idea what the date of the service would be. When she found out it was on the fourth anniversary of her father's brutal death she didn't even flinch. Her only response? Hope that it would make it more meaningful for those listening, and hope that I could find some joy now and not be filled with such sorrow every time this date shows up on my calendar. She was beautiful as she stepped up to the microphone to share such an intimate part of herself with a church full of people. And with dignity she spoke truth, words of anger, sadness, shame, separation and finally the ultimate redemption of the day that changed her sweet young life for ever. Frankly I felt as though I watched someone else's child, so foreign was this woman of twelve to me. But when she came out of the water, dripping in new life, the shout of joy that escaped me was echoed by the congregation, who stood to applaud. Not my daughter, but the God who made this possible. The tears I saw baffled me for a moment, for the joy of her "resurrection" was the most beautiful thing I've ever beheld. But how could this amazing child not move adults to tears with her searing honesty?
And for a little while, 9/11 took on a whole new meaning.
Let no unwholesome word proceed from your lips, but those that are for the edification of others.
So today I decided to start practicing what was preached. Our church is preparing for new leadership, and the lase two weeks have been devoted to things that will help our congregation prepare for who ever this new Pastor will be. I'm new here, since I've only been going to this church for a few months. But it is the school where my girls are entering their third year, so I have a love and connection with the people, teaching and even the building!
Ok, back to the guilt part of our time together. Have you ever tried to go an hour, just one hour, without saying anything hurtful? Better yet, trying to build up others with words? I'm not naive, I understand life in the real world and don't expect to be perfect. That's what Christ is for. But I do want to be the kind of person who can go a day without some of the thoughts in my head turning into words that burn my own toungue. Not to mention Chris. My Chris, who in his own life struggles so much with the power of his words. I have used this verse on him many times, and today he got to hear it straight from the Preacher's mouth. He was very quiet after church, pondering the fact that he, as he put it, "cannot control what comes out of his mouth" at times. I could tell he was struggling as he wondered the sourse of his failing. "Why", he asked, "why do I get to a point where I can't stop myself from saying something, when I know it's the wrong thing to say?". Obviously there has to be supernatural help in these matters. But even with said help I find myself thinking first and then saying things that I don't want to. So I decided the place to start was in my thoughts. Holding every thought captive, I stopped myself short every time something mean, evil, wrong, foul etc. popped into my little brain. It was a constant battle. I see my neighbor and boom, I'm thinking "don't you have a family to go wreck?", I get cut off on the road and four letter words abound. My dog won't stop barking and my last nerve snaps and I'm thinking "SHUT UP" and about to screach it when my Colette comes up behind me with a question.
I want my mind to be clean. That's it. I don't care what the rest of the world is doing, I want to think nice things, say nice things, and not always have a retort dripping off my tongue. I think that I've had to defend myself so much that I've lost touch with what is the right way for me to do so without compromising my values. And, if I'm really honest, it's easier to just say it then expend the energy to catch myself and stop. But I have decided I will. People may choose to do something different, and I have no doubt that my girls and I will have to deal with those who hurt with words again and again, especially given my neighbor. I just know hearing my Pastor teaching today I cannot use other's actions as an excuse to be someone I don't like. And there is Chris. I want to be an example for him. I don't want to be a hyporcirte, quoting a verse one minute then yelling at my neighbor the next. So I will try.
I took a friend to church on Sunday. She has deep wounds that cause her to run, from calm, herself, her life and especially God. She doesn't like feeling bad about herself she says. So she avoids church, because she always feels worse when she's there. She visits a few times, but once she's sitting with no where to run the ramifications of the choices she makes floods her, and for that moment she vows she'll be different. She will be "better". She will change habits, She will be a better role model for her daughter. She will pray more, spend less and never cuss again. Oh how I try to tell her that all she has to do is accept Him, let Him love her, heal her. She wept thinking of all her errors, and I know she thinks that she has to be different before she can walk with Him. I pray she someday slows down enough to see Him beside her the way she is now. I pray she forgives herself enough to allow Him in. So used to having to perform I don't think she can grasp the message of His life. When I talk to her she's so sure people are judging her. Even if they are does it mean He is? Does it mean He can't love her?
I used to think it would be so cool to "convert" someone. How awesome it would be to be used that way. Pride. I see her broken heart and now I just want her to find peace. As she sat next to me weeping I thought on the irony and sadness of her life. She just wants to be loved, and yet doesn't love herself enough to reach out for the most amazing love out there. I don't know if anything will change. I talked with her today and she seemed caught up with all the running as usual. But she wept, and that's got to mean sonething.
The spirit is that amazing part of us that is us and God as well. It's all me, and encompasses what His Holy Spirit has deemed appropriate for me to be in this world. This mystery rocks my world. The Creator of the universe, the giver of all life, the One, gives of Himself to us. While this serves whatever His purposes may be, it also give us a gift that we could never repay. He is in me.
What happens to us if we choose to ignore this? In His design we have the choice to embrace or run from His presence. In my life I've done both. Embracing Him in our spirit is vital for life. When we don't, the consequences are astounding. I say this because I have spent the better part of today contemplating the most distrubing thing I've encountered since my husband's and 3000 or so others deaths. Today I learned that a little boy who has been in my life for two and half years or so is more troubled than I ever imagined. There have been signs along the way that he is in trouble. His father is in my life in a complex way that has allowed me to peer into the life and times of B. His family is broken, and his mom has chosen a man who is abusive physically. Though she says the kids are never his victims I've never believed this. I grew up in a home much like the one B is living in, and it's been my experience that if it's happening to the mom it's usually happening on some level to the kids. But I digress. However, before I tell my discovery I must inject that this 7 year old has always been a behavior problem. I've always believed that he has emotional issues and some learning disabilities, plus the disadvantage of mother who "ain't puttin him on no drugs". Sufice it say that while I've often been angry and sad at his inability to do right I've always understood there were bigger things at work in his life. Things that most likely require a doctor or two but since she "ain't druggin him", this has never been an option. I've hoped and prayed along the way that I could help him. I've thought many times that God has brought us together so someone could love him and teach him about how much he is loved by God. Today I lost all hope. All hope that the relationship I've formed with his father is meant to be, and hope that B is going to get the help he needs. Well I've built this up, so here goes. At his daycare center is an eighteen month old. In retaliation for him taking a toy away, B grabbed pliers and pulled out his hair. From what I gather this was part of an assault on the baby, not the whole thing.
I spent some time probing B about the events. I thought maybe I made some headway when I asked him how he felt after. Hoping his response of "bad" was because of remorse, it turns out he was mad because the provider said she wouldn't tell on him and she did. He is now is in jeopardy of loosing his spot at the center, and his mom is threatening to drop him at his dad's doorstep for the summer, which happens to be my doorstop. I spent much time with him today trying to assertain what is up in his heart and head. We talked about all the "naughty" things that have happened, including episodes where people were harmed or property distroyed, and he said he never feels bad. He gets mad when he's caught and grounded, but the idea of feeling bad for the harm he's caused is nowhere to be seen. He just has no remorse. He's broken things of mine of my late husbands, nothing. Things of my girls including gifts, pictures, games. Again nothing.
Bringing this story in line with the idea of spirit, what happened to his? How does a boy of 7 not have a concience? The Holy Spirit in us gives us the strength to do the right thing. Guilt and remorse serve as lessons so we don't continue to sin, harming people. How can he discover this? On a personal note, I'm scared, for him, us, and those he will come in contact with in his life. No remorse and no impulse control. Lord help him.
Like many, I didn't discover the spiritual part of religion, my religion , until I was an adult. As a teen, I knew there was more than the random prayers my mom would offer when things got tough. Even after I became a Christian, or accepted that part of my destiny that was waiting for me, I still didn't fully grasp "spirit". I craved a way of being that was authentic. The vanity of going through life with out being honest with myself frightened me more than the idea of hell. I wanted to know this part of myself that was not content to go to church and talk the talk but go home after and start the week anew with the same feeling of missing the mark as before. So here I was becoming educated in my religion, but not nurtured in my spirit.
I have a wounded spirit. The events and losses in my childhood and adulthood have proved much more than I can manage, and I often wonder what God is trying to tell me. At times I feel like I'm in this photo, and the one place that could bring healing to the wounds of my spirit is impossible to get to for the one sign pointed in the other direction. I've often longed to find rest for my soul. I envy people who find the "thing" that brings them peace. Be it yoga, meditation, religious practices. Sometimes I find myself so angry that others seem to arrive while I am so far behind on the journey. But then I remind myself that the lessons I've learned are deeper than some, and so the mysteries that God keeps for me will be bigger blessings as well. Is the reward worth the price I've paid? I'll let you know! In the mean time I relish the growth, treasure the journey and anticipate the lessons. I've been religious, but know now that whatever my spirit has in store for it will make the remainder of my days so much more worth while. There is a spirit in all of us, and if left unchecked we all run the risk of living our lives in a much more shallow way the intended. Yes, I've cursed the discontent that seems to separate me from many, but I thank God for it as well, for without it I wouldn't be here right now, searching with all of you for the depth we seem to be aware of.
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