It's been over a month since my last post, the monumental 500th. And it's ironic to me that it ended with "Easter is coming, and not just on the calendar," when it seems like life has demonstrated a lot of the opposite since I last held my fingers to the keyboard. It's been exactly a month, and the kind of month filled with questions like I talked about in my last post:
Where are You, Jesus?
How could You let this happen?
Don't You care about me?
Now I say all that knowing EXACTLY where Jesus has been, knowing He not only cares about me but loves me beyond my finite understanding. I know He's been with me, and with my family and loved ones, and I know that everything happening has been with purpose, because He promises it so. But it does not change the factor of feelings, not one little bit.
Easter Sunday went over pretty well. I served at my post and accomplished my responsibility at the Helicopter Egg Drop for the church's Easter outreach. I sometimes miss participating in Easter a little, but at the end of the day I feel like I have served - God, my church and people in our community, and that outweighs anything else.
Who would have thought that supervising the corralling of hundreds of kids and dozens of volunteers would seem tame compared to the weeks that followed.
The day after Easter while my family was celebrating the ten year anniversary of our "Gotcha Day" my beloved maternal grandmother was admitted to the hospital "for a few tests." I got the phone call later that evening to let me know what was going on and like pulling a rip cord on a top, things just spun a completely different direction and fast right after that. 8 days of hospital vigil led to two days of hospice which led to a week of planning a funeral and then just a few hours to formally say goodbye. It was stunning.
I learned several lessons through that spin of the top, ones I hope I won't soon forget:
Friendliness isn't friendship. People you think might actually be your friends reveal something deeper in times like this. It's hard, but also important to know.
Hospitals are places for quiet voices and gentle spirits. If you can't be a calming influence, don't come - not only for the sick, but for those who surround them full of emotions like anxiety, fear and sadness.
Never say things like "At least she had a long life." FYI when someone is still freshly grieving the loss of somebody they love don't try to find the silver lining, it doesn't exist in that moment - and when they come to the revelation of that, they will do it on their own. And please, please, please, please don't compare their loss to your or someone else's loss in the past. When someone is grieving, do everything in your power not to make that moment about you.
Scripture isn't a cure. Good intentions aside, the classic "All things together for good" or "we grieve with hope" promises do not make everything better for a person overwhelmed in the moment. It cheapens God's Word in all honesty. Reality is it isn't something we are supposed to apply to someone else's hurt or problem. Ever look in a mirror? Ever shine a mirror in the face of someone else? Not the same effect. There will be a time when someone grieving or hurting will reflect on Truth and find comfort and healing in it - they may even receive it from you, but it has to be in relation not simple application. So don't do it - and if you don't heed this warning, don't be all offended when it isn't received well.
People will surprise you. In both bad ways and good. Some of you just really suck at grief and death, for all the reasons above and more. And honestly I can't give you a do and don't list in this respect because it's really based on the needs of the hurting and grieving. Some people need you to come and sit at the hospital with them, for others that's the last thing they want. In this process you need to be a responder, responding with time and patience, not easily offended, filling the needs as they come - driving kids to school, picking up food, texting a simple "I'm praying for you," and then actually doing it.
People will surprise you - in a good way too. Some people are really really good at the whole hospital, illness, death and grief thing. If I had my guess it would most often be people who have been through it, but I have also seen that it can be learned (major props to my 20 year old son who went past his comfort zone to step up and learn to be good at something he'd never really been through.) Cards and test messages, voice mails (don't expect long phone conversations) are like drinks of cool water. Getting cards from people I didn't ever think I would made such an impact. People coming and sitting in a funeral of someone they didn't know out of love and friendship to one who is grieving, ministry beyond words.
Death and the grief process are a filter. It's like when you go and get your physical eyes checked and they have you testing for glasses. You sit looking through this little machine, they flip the lens, "Which is clearer, A or B?" Death is clearer than life. It is like a magnifying glass to delineate: friendliness from friendship - fair weather friends from true friends, ministers from administers, and love. There are three kinds of it that become easily deciphered in times like this: The throw away "word"; the emotion of it (which isn't always reliable) and the action of it. For the record, I will take the action without emotion every day and twice and Sunday, though the emotion at least has a value - but as for the throw away word, I'm really pretty much done with it. "We love you guys," is a load of crap when it's said as you walk away. It's right up there in the silence of those who use the throw away phrase in the every day and disappear in the challenge.
Mmmm... everything in me is more convinced that people suck. But I am also reminded that not all people suck. Most of all I hope I have learned some life lessons that will help me not to be that kind of person.
If people find this post offensive, I will only sort of apologize. I'm still a little raw, so it may be a tad harsh, but if it ruffles your feathers, I challenge you to stop and think if maybe you need to reevaluate how you handle situations like these.
Now I will make one disclaimer, I do know we're not all called to minister to everyone in their pain and struggles (though some of us have to do it at some level in vocational and familial situations.) But I will say this, a kind word, like "I'm sorry for your loss," or a simple (kept) promise like "I'll pray for you," goes a long way. A hug is golden and a listening ear is a treasure. You ought to be able to find that in yourself. It's called LOVE, and if you are a Christian, guess what, you're called to it.
Monday, May 19, 2014
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Days of Silence - 500th post, 6 years later
I have sat down twice now to type up this, somewhat monumental 500th post. The first time I sat down and did it from my phone and Swyped the whole thing out... then between the news of braces required and ten teeth (two kids, 8 teeth and 2 teeth) needing to be filled - the hour's worth of text I had entered disappeared. The second time I sat down on the actual 6 year anniversary and I just stumbled and fumbled with what I wanted to say. I tried to make the 500th post an event and it just wasn't meant to be.
So a couple days have passed, and it's a busy week here - in addition to the ten year anniversary of our family Gotcha Day and of course this other little event called Easter, I have had a lot going on - family sickness, trouble, struggle and more. I really wanted to make this post "something" but it just wasn't working out.
Then it occurred to me - I never intended this blog to be about ME, so much as (as it says in the title) about my Walk of Faith - which for the record is WAY more about God than me. He's the point. I am not.
So it's Holy Week, and today, Saturday, is sort of the least spoken about day of that week, but it has always been the day that has been most intriguing to me, and I think about it a lot. There was no triumphant entry on this day of Holy Week, it was not the day Jesus was anointed with a woman's tear for burial. There was no important ceremonial dinner, no crowds crying out, Jesus wasn't in the garden praying.
Jesus was in the tomb. The disciples were scattered, the apostles were hiding, Peter was overwhelmed with guilt of his betrayal, the women were weeping. The Pharisees were rejoicing, the devil was feeling victorious for the Light of the world had seemingly been snuffed out.
For those who loved and followed Jesus, the darkness and death of hope had to have been overwhelming. The questions had to have been tearing at their faith. The lack of understanding had to have broken their hearts.
Was it real? Did they truly see the miracles? Was Jesus truly who he said He was?
Where was the victory? The freedom? The peace they had been promised? They had believed for one thing - that God would rescue them, and instead it seemed they had been abandoned.
Evil had won. Surely as they looked about at what they could see, this must have been the thought that plagued their minds. Surely this was the darkest of days. They could no longer hear His voice. They could not understand His actions. They had to have even had at least a note of doubt about whether or not Jesus was the Son of God at all.
In my 22 years of faith, I have had dark and quiet days, days where these kinds of questions plagued my mind.
Where are You, Jesus?
How could You let this happen?
Don't You care about me?
But I cannot begin to imagine how much darker they days that Jesus lay in the tomb must have been. To have been a witness to something to vile and violent, so incomprehensible, and to have wondered when He said "It is finished," just what that meant.
I am grateful that I have lived life on this side of the cross. Because I know what the disciples did not. Sunday was on it's way. That life and resurrection was coming, and that the stone would roll away to reveal an empty tomb that would change EVERYTHING.
When I have dark days where God is silent, and even where I cannot make sense of things, even having to wonder where God is in any circumstance I face - I know this, Jesus is the God of resurrection life - and that Hope is real in Him.
He NEVER abandons.
Never leaves.
Never forsakes.
Never forgets.
And ALWAYS is God...
Of life.
Of light.
Of hope.
True to His word, faithful to His promises. He will not "return" the way He did after the resurrection, because no matter how things seem, He never leaves us, is always with, and even if the shadows of this life overwhelm, it's just a matter of time before He steps out from behind them to show and to prove that He has never ceased to be working in us, through us and on our behalf.
I don't have to fear the Days of Silence, because although in can be hard and scary when God works quietly, I can know to the very depth of my being He is always working, just like He was those dark devastating days He was in the tomb.
He changed everything. Oh death where is your sting? Jesus came and died and took your power, snatching up the keys of hell, death and the grave, usurping back the power of the enemy, making him nothing more than impotent fool awaiting his eventual but definite demise.
Whatever we face - we are MORE than conquerors in Christ Jesus. Victory is His, and in Him it is ours as well.
God is for us.
God is with us.
Silence and darkness mean nothing.
We just have to hang on.
I am my Beloved's and He is mine.
In Him I have
Life
Peace
Light
and Everything I need....
Easter is coming, and not just on the calendar.
So a couple days have passed, and it's a busy week here - in addition to the ten year anniversary of our family Gotcha Day and of course this other little event called Easter, I have had a lot going on - family sickness, trouble, struggle and more. I really wanted to make this post "something" but it just wasn't working out.
Then it occurred to me - I never intended this blog to be about ME, so much as (as it says in the title) about my Walk of Faith - which for the record is WAY more about God than me. He's the point. I am not.
So it's Holy Week, and today, Saturday, is sort of the least spoken about day of that week, but it has always been the day that has been most intriguing to me, and I think about it a lot. There was no triumphant entry on this day of Holy Week, it was not the day Jesus was anointed with a woman's tear for burial. There was no important ceremonial dinner, no crowds crying out, Jesus wasn't in the garden praying.
Jesus was in the tomb. The disciples were scattered, the apostles were hiding, Peter was overwhelmed with guilt of his betrayal, the women were weeping. The Pharisees were rejoicing, the devil was feeling victorious for the Light of the world had seemingly been snuffed out.
For those who loved and followed Jesus, the darkness and death of hope had to have been overwhelming. The questions had to have been tearing at their faith. The lack of understanding had to have broken their hearts.
Was it real? Did they truly see the miracles? Was Jesus truly who he said He was?
Where was the victory? The freedom? The peace they had been promised? They had believed for one thing - that God would rescue them, and instead it seemed they had been abandoned.
Evil had won. Surely as they looked about at what they could see, this must have been the thought that plagued their minds. Surely this was the darkest of days. They could no longer hear His voice. They could not understand His actions. They had to have even had at least a note of doubt about whether or not Jesus was the Son of God at all.
In my 22 years of faith, I have had dark and quiet days, days where these kinds of questions plagued my mind.
Where are You, Jesus?
How could You let this happen?
Don't You care about me?
But I cannot begin to imagine how much darker they days that Jesus lay in the tomb must have been. To have been a witness to something to vile and violent, so incomprehensible, and to have wondered when He said "It is finished," just what that meant.
I am grateful that I have lived life on this side of the cross. Because I know what the disciples did not. Sunday was on it's way. That life and resurrection was coming, and that the stone would roll away to reveal an empty tomb that would change EVERYTHING.
When I have dark days where God is silent, and even where I cannot make sense of things, even having to wonder where God is in any circumstance I face - I know this, Jesus is the God of resurrection life - and that Hope is real in Him.
He NEVER abandons.
Never leaves.
Never forsakes.
Never forgets.
And ALWAYS is God...
Of life.
Of light.
Of hope.
True to His word, faithful to His promises. He will not "return" the way He did after the resurrection, because no matter how things seem, He never leaves us, is always with, and even if the shadows of this life overwhelm, it's just a matter of time before He steps out from behind them to show and to prove that He has never ceased to be working in us, through us and on our behalf.
I don't have to fear the Days of Silence, because although in can be hard and scary when God works quietly, I can know to the very depth of my being He is always working, just like He was those dark devastating days He was in the tomb.
He changed everything. Oh death where is your sting? Jesus came and died and took your power, snatching up the keys of hell, death and the grave, usurping back the power of the enemy, making him nothing more than impotent fool awaiting his eventual but definite demise.
Whatever we face - we are MORE than conquerors in Christ Jesus. Victory is His, and in Him it is ours as well.
God is for us.
God is with us.
Silence and darkness mean nothing.
We just have to hang on.
I am my Beloved's and He is mine.
In Him I have
Life
Peace
Light
and Everything I need....
Easter is coming, and not just on the calendar.
Monday, April 7, 2014
April of altars
I like the month of April. Aside from the fact that it is typically the month we celebrate the most important date in all of history with the resurrection of Jesus Christ (sometimes Easter lands in March), it is a month of atypical milestones for me and my little family.
The first comes this Thursday. It's my and Neal's Date-iversary, and this year we hit the quarter century mark. Wow. And I am still crazy mad in love with him. Heck, I still like him, and from what I see a lot of not only is getting this far exceptional, but actually still enjoying being together is even more rare.
As I look over our 25 years together and take stock, I am very aware that our lives don't look like the classic "success." In fact as the world defines it, we miss the mark in a lot of areas - careers, finances, accomplishments, etc. But I have to force myself not to look at our success through that perspective. Instead I look at our relationship as a couple and a family and without taking anything for granted I say "Thank You, Lord, that today things are good." Today our marriage is strong, and I hope it stays strong enough to face hard things that may be ahead. Today we have the right mindset that in our challenges we are on the same side and we are for each other, never against each others and that any battles we face, we face together. And I pray we make the great effort to stay that way.
Today our kids are good. All three of them make us proud of them for the kind of people that they are today. They love God, love others, sometimes they even love each other. They all have great strengths in their character and today they are moving the right direction in those areas of who they are. I don't take it for granted because I know we are all just a mistake a way from really screwing up our lives, but today they are doing well, and for that I am thankful. I pray their dad and I continue to help them pursue God's personal path for their lives, and that they all stay on the right path in following Him.
As I am mindful of our 25 years together, I see the lack of THINGS that we have, but I also see an abundance of riches that could not be bought for any price. Today that date-iversary makes me grateful.
On the 17th of this month I will "celebrate" six years of writing this blog. It has been a faithful companion to me. The Lord has bestowed upon me a gift to express myself in written word and through the advice of a once upon a time good friend, I began this blog. It has been a place to tell my stories, process my struggles, occasionally vent a complaint. It has been an expression of myself to the world around me. It has been with me through some of my very darkest days. It has been a place where I have been able to recount the greatness of my God and His faithfulness in my life. I have written my Psalms here, and I have tried to encourage and challenge the world around me. It has been "My Walk of Faith." This very post will be my 499th when I post it, and so I imagine that this April at some point will even be the month of my 500th blog.
April 20th is a very important day to our little family. This April 20th is Easter Sunday but also it marks the 10th anniversary of our Ethan's "Gotcha Day." That's the day that our family was made whole and complete. That day is a testimony of God's amazing grace and faithfulness to our family. After over 3 years of one of greatest and most difficult challenges, each individually and as a whole, God fulfilled a promise to us that we thought might never be so. It is a day of great rejoicing and victory and it's why this year, Easter Sunday will be even more special to us. It's a double reminder of the greatness and faithfulness of our God.
I think there is a clear reason why God so many times told His people to build altars in their journeys of faith. It was so they could look back as they passed by those places again and be reminded of the things God had done for them. As I look at the calendar of April amidst soccer practices, church meetings, school breaks and play performances I see altars to God's faithfulness.
He took this lost broken couple and brought them into His fold. I believe it was in April of 1992 that I actually first returned to church, and it wasn't long after before Neal joined me there. And He created this family of His followers in His own unique way. It was messy and complicated and oftentimes just really hard, but His love was relentless throughout. He taught us things about Himself that we could never have ever imagined to know. God the Father, Jesus the Savior, Christ the Redeemer, Holy Spirit our Counselor, Author, Finisher, Alpha Omega - the Faithful One, Lover of our souls.
I am glad to pass by these altars in these difficult days. It does nothing to make the days better, but it does everything to make us better - reminding us of Who He is, and of what He has done, and it reminds me of the promise yet again, that come what may, God will work it all out for our good because He loves us. And that even if I can't see or imagine what it is, God has a good plan for us. His promises are RICH, and I am thankful for these altars in our lives that also remind us that His promises are true.
Our daughter's name was given to me as I was reading God's word. Victoria, the victorious one. Later at perhaps one of the darkest moments in our family the Lord brought the verse to my mind and I heard Him whisper that it wasn't just her verse, but it was the verse that He had promised and spoken over our family. Today I cling to it.
For whatever is born of God overcomes the world.
And this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith.
1 John 5:4
Thank you Father for our April of altars. I cling to Your promises, I cling to You.
The first comes this Thursday. It's my and Neal's Date-iversary, and this year we hit the quarter century mark. Wow. And I am still crazy mad in love with him. Heck, I still like him, and from what I see a lot of not only is getting this far exceptional, but actually still enjoying being together is even more rare.
As I look over our 25 years together and take stock, I am very aware that our lives don't look like the classic "success." In fact as the world defines it, we miss the mark in a lot of areas - careers, finances, accomplishments, etc. But I have to force myself not to look at our success through that perspective. Instead I look at our relationship as a couple and a family and without taking anything for granted I say "Thank You, Lord, that today things are good." Today our marriage is strong, and I hope it stays strong enough to face hard things that may be ahead. Today we have the right mindset that in our challenges we are on the same side and we are for each other, never against each others and that any battles we face, we face together. And I pray we make the great effort to stay that way.
Today our kids are good. All three of them make us proud of them for the kind of people that they are today. They love God, love others, sometimes they even love each other. They all have great strengths in their character and today they are moving the right direction in those areas of who they are. I don't take it for granted because I know we are all just a mistake a way from really screwing up our lives, but today they are doing well, and for that I am thankful. I pray their dad and I continue to help them pursue God's personal path for their lives, and that they all stay on the right path in following Him.
As I am mindful of our 25 years together, I see the lack of THINGS that we have, but I also see an abundance of riches that could not be bought for any price. Today that date-iversary makes me grateful.
On the 17th of this month I will "celebrate" six years of writing this blog. It has been a faithful companion to me. The Lord has bestowed upon me a gift to express myself in written word and through the advice of a once upon a time good friend, I began this blog. It has been a place to tell my stories, process my struggles, occasionally vent a complaint. It has been an expression of myself to the world around me. It has been with me through some of my very darkest days. It has been a place where I have been able to recount the greatness of my God and His faithfulness in my life. I have written my Psalms here, and I have tried to encourage and challenge the world around me. It has been "My Walk of Faith." This very post will be my 499th when I post it, and so I imagine that this April at some point will even be the month of my 500th blog.
April 20th is a very important day to our little family. This April 20th is Easter Sunday but also it marks the 10th anniversary of our Ethan's "Gotcha Day." That's the day that our family was made whole and complete. That day is a testimony of God's amazing grace and faithfulness to our family. After over 3 years of one of greatest and most difficult challenges, each individually and as a whole, God fulfilled a promise to us that we thought might never be so. It is a day of great rejoicing and victory and it's why this year, Easter Sunday will be even more special to us. It's a double reminder of the greatness and faithfulness of our God.
I think there is a clear reason why God so many times told His people to build altars in their journeys of faith. It was so they could look back as they passed by those places again and be reminded of the things God had done for them. As I look at the calendar of April amidst soccer practices, church meetings, school breaks and play performances I see altars to God's faithfulness.
He took this lost broken couple and brought them into His fold. I believe it was in April of 1992 that I actually first returned to church, and it wasn't long after before Neal joined me there. And He created this family of His followers in His own unique way. It was messy and complicated and oftentimes just really hard, but His love was relentless throughout. He taught us things about Himself that we could never have ever imagined to know. God the Father, Jesus the Savior, Christ the Redeemer, Holy Spirit our Counselor, Author, Finisher, Alpha Omega - the Faithful One, Lover of our souls.
I am glad to pass by these altars in these difficult days. It does nothing to make the days better, but it does everything to make us better - reminding us of Who He is, and of what He has done, and it reminds me of the promise yet again, that come what may, God will work it all out for our good because He loves us. And that even if I can't see or imagine what it is, God has a good plan for us. His promises are RICH, and I am thankful for these altars in our lives that also remind us that His promises are true.
Our daughter's name was given to me as I was reading God's word. Victoria, the victorious one. Later at perhaps one of the darkest moments in our family the Lord brought the verse to my mind and I heard Him whisper that it wasn't just her verse, but it was the verse that He had promised and spoken over our family. Today I cling to it.
And this is the victory that has overcome the world—our faith.
1 John 5:4
Thank you Father for our April of altars. I cling to Your promises, I cling to You.
Tuesday, March 25, 2014
Legalism gone all kinds of wrong #worldvision
I have been contemplating writing a blog post titled "Your doctrine is wrong!" I wanted to talk about the diversity between the calvinists vs. the Arminianists (yes, that's a real thing) and the continuationists vs. the cessationists, the pre-tribbers vs the post-tribbers, the pro-lifers vs the pro-choicers, and a million other doctrinal "bones of contention" that we in "the Body" get all caught up on. And I might still write it somewhere along the way - or I might just tell you now.
Everybody who gets to heaven is going to get there by GRACE, and ALL of us are going to have SOMETHING in our doctrine that's WRONG. If you could get it all right on your own, you would not need the Savior who came to rescue you, would you?
Now I am NOT saying doctrine doesn't matter. I'm not even saying God doesn't want us to get it right, but we won't. Somewhere in all things we are going to screw it up, get it wrong, flat out blow it. But it's ok, because the doctrine isn't the point. Jesus is. You get to heaven on WHO you know, not WHAT you know. Now let's all gather together IN UNITY in a giant collective sigh of relief for that TRUTH! Jesus is THE Way, THE Truth and THE Life - and He is the path to the Father and our eternity in heaven.
That's the ONE thing that matters. Jesus - the Head.
But that doesn't seem to stop us in the Body from getting all riled up and our panties in a wad when we cannot agree on things of doctrine. In fact, many (most?) of us are willing to draw a big old fat line in the proverbial sand and declare war against one another over topics that while they may be important, are simply not critical.
I got an email this morning that has just sunk my heart into the pit of my stomach. A "Christian organization" is calling out for believers to abandon ship off of the World Vision wagon because they have made a decision about allowing Christians in "legal gay marriages" to work on their staff. They have always held what you could call a moral purity clause (lots of Christian organizations, churches, etc, do) that says no one in the organization can be involved in sex outside of the marriage covenant, or partake of pornography etc. It's an honor system clause at best. But it's there nonetheless. But with the great divide within the Church about gay marriage they have not taken a stand in any direction on the topic of marriage as a whole - they've just decided not to ban people from employ. In all honesty, I suspect they are getting a jump ahead of likely being sued by someone if they held the ban. I don't know, but it is QUITE possible (though only conjecture on my part) that for the sake of the "bigger picture" of continuing their worldwide ministry to impoverished children, they have decided that this is a battle they won't choose to fight. (No one is called to choose them all.)
Here's a screenshot of the letter from my phone. Tim Wildmon, who lists himself as a the President of the American Family Association has called for a boycott of World Vision ministries. He's not just suggesting that people no longer support the ministry, but he's asking (demanding?) that those who already do support children through it should pull their sponsorships. Wait?? WHAT???
Honestly, my first (somewhat angry) thought is, how can you call yourself "pro-family"?? And in my heart I want him to get off his offended moral high horse and stop thinking about a (doctrine based) agenda and think about the hundreds of thousands of poor families that would be impacted if they follow through with his exhortation. These are PEOPLE, man, not statistics!
His suggestion is to support kids through other organizations that "stay true to the gospel." But my problem there is this, it's not just "other organizations," it would mean "other kids."
My family supports a little girl named Rahel, she's 13 and lives in Tanzania and a 12 year old boy named Jose from the Dominican Republic. It's not like I can call up Compassion International and say "Hey, can you please send my money to help these two kids we have been supporting since 2009. They were quite intentionally chosen to be the same ages as my younger two children. We have not been the kind of pen pals I would have liked, but we have helped sustain their family for 4 1/2 years. And we did it because we believe the Lord wanted us to. And these two kids were chosen by us, and every year we get updates about them. And Mr. Wildmon thinks I ought to dump them over a doctrinal issue??
a scripture comes to my mind as I contemplate all this. It's from the first chapter of James, 27th verse:
Pure and undefiled religion before God and the Father is this: to visit orphans and widows in their trouble, and to keep oneself unspotted from the world.
I can already here the debate over the "unspotted from the world" portion of the scripture, but I don't think that's where the focus of this verse is at all. I think the meat here is in the ministry, and the ministry is to the poor and the needy, and at the end of the day, that's where my money is headed. It's not headed to the support of the (sort of) doctrine or World Vision, it's directed towards reaching out and helping little Rahel and Jose, who by the way don't (and shouldn't) have a CLUE about the doctrinal discussions about gay marriage.
I'm going to be honest, I did have an impulse to unsubscribe to my AFA newsletter. Perturbed at the sentiments of Mr. Wildmon, I was ready to walk away. Then I thought of something my pastor said to me once that holds true here. He said, "We don't have to see eye to eye to walk arm in arm."
As Christians, forgive the pun, we need to get a bigger "world vision." We need to get over the legalism that sucks the love out of truth and replaces it with the division of doctrine. The Truth is simple:
"God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son that whosoever would believe in Him should not perish but have eternal life."
John 3:16
Jesus came to seek and to save the lost - which at one point or another we ALL were. He's using World Vision (despite their imperfections, which they have no matter what your stand on gay marriage is) to reach out and bring Jesus and personal provision to little kids all over the world. However imperfectly, they are being the "hands and feet" of Jesus.
Likewise, I am certain that the AFA is accomplishing valuable ministry "in Jesus' name." But nothing makes Satan happier than when he can pit God's people against each other over the details of "religion" and overshadow the value of relationship. This letter that the AFA sent out is legalism gone all kinds of wrong.
I hope people are not listening to this call to boycott. I know Mr. Wildmon and his ministry have been put into a position of influence, but before you let him influence you in this way, I want you to look at these two precious kids, and to think about them SPECIFICALLY, and the hundreds of thousands kids who are JUST LIKE THEM - REAL, INDIVIDUAL, SPECIFIC PEOPLE who have needs, physical, emotional, personal and eternal. All of which World Vision is playing a part in meeting. Don't abandon these kids. And if you're not a World Vision Sponsor, consider stepping up for the kids who are being let down in the name of doctrine and legalism.
Everybody who gets to heaven is going to get there by GRACE, and ALL of us are going to have SOMETHING in our doctrine that's WRONG. If you could get it all right on your own, you would not need the Savior who came to rescue you, would you?
Now I am NOT saying doctrine doesn't matter. I'm not even saying God doesn't want us to get it right, but we won't. Somewhere in all things we are going to screw it up, get it wrong, flat out blow it. But it's ok, because the doctrine isn't the point. Jesus is. You get to heaven on WHO you know, not WHAT you know. Now let's all gather together IN UNITY in a giant collective sigh of relief for that TRUTH! Jesus is THE Way, THE Truth and THE Life - and He is the path to the Father and our eternity in heaven.
That's the ONE thing that matters. Jesus - the Head.
But that doesn't seem to stop us in the Body from getting all riled up and our panties in a wad when we cannot agree on things of doctrine. In fact, many (most?) of us are willing to draw a big old fat line in the proverbial sand and declare war against one another over topics that while they may be important, are simply not critical.
I got an email this morning that has just sunk my heart into the pit of my stomach. A "Christian organization" is calling out for believers to abandon ship off of the World Vision wagon because they have made a decision about allowing Christians in "legal gay marriages" to work on their staff. They have always held what you could call a moral purity clause (lots of Christian organizations, churches, etc, do) that says no one in the organization can be involved in sex outside of the marriage covenant, or partake of pornography etc. It's an honor system clause at best. But it's there nonetheless. But with the great divide within the Church about gay marriage they have not taken a stand in any direction on the topic of marriage as a whole - they've just decided not to ban people from employ. In all honesty, I suspect they are getting a jump ahead of likely being sued by someone if they held the ban. I don't know, but it is QUITE possible (though only conjecture on my part) that for the sake of the "bigger picture" of continuing their worldwide ministry to impoverished children, they have decided that this is a battle they won't choose to fight. (No one is called to choose them all.)
Honestly, my first (somewhat angry) thought is, how can you call yourself "pro-family"?? And in my heart I want him to get off his offended moral high horse and stop thinking about a (doctrine based) agenda and think about the hundreds of thousands of poor families that would be impacted if they follow through with his exhortation. These are PEOPLE, man, not statistics!
His suggestion is to support kids through other organizations that "stay true to the gospel." But my problem there is this, it's not just "other organizations," it would mean "other kids."
My family supports a little girl named Rahel, she's 13 and lives in Tanzania and a 12 year old boy named Jose from the Dominican Republic. It's not like I can call up Compassion International and say "Hey, can you please send my money to help these two kids we have been supporting since 2009. They were quite intentionally chosen to be the same ages as my younger two children. We have not been the kind of pen pals I would have liked, but we have helped sustain their family for 4 1/2 years. And we did it because we believe the Lord wanted us to. And these two kids were chosen by us, and every year we get updates about them. And Mr. Wildmon thinks I ought to dump them over a doctrinal issue??
a scripture comes to my mind as I contemplate all this. It's from the first chapter of James, 27th verse:
I can already here the debate over the "unspotted from the world" portion of the scripture, but I don't think that's where the focus of this verse is at all. I think the meat here is in the ministry, and the ministry is to the poor and the needy, and at the end of the day, that's where my money is headed. It's not headed to the support of the (sort of) doctrine or World Vision, it's directed towards reaching out and helping little Rahel and Jose, who by the way don't (and shouldn't) have a CLUE about the doctrinal discussions about gay marriage.
I'm going to be honest, I did have an impulse to unsubscribe to my AFA newsletter. Perturbed at the sentiments of Mr. Wildmon, I was ready to walk away. Then I thought of something my pastor said to me once that holds true here. He said, "We don't have to see eye to eye to walk arm in arm."
As Christians, forgive the pun, we need to get a bigger "world vision." We need to get over the legalism that sucks the love out of truth and replaces it with the division of doctrine. The Truth is simple:
John 3:16
Jesus came to seek and to save the lost - which at one point or another we ALL were. He's using World Vision (despite their imperfections, which they have no matter what your stand on gay marriage is) to reach out and bring Jesus and personal provision to little kids all over the world. However imperfectly, they are being the "hands and feet" of Jesus.
Likewise, I am certain that the AFA is accomplishing valuable ministry "in Jesus' name." But nothing makes Satan happier than when he can pit God's people against each other over the details of "religion" and overshadow the value of relationship. This letter that the AFA sent out is legalism gone all kinds of wrong.
I hope people are not listening to this call to boycott. I know Mr. Wildmon and his ministry have been put into a position of influence, but before you let him influence you in this way, I want you to look at these two precious kids, and to think about them SPECIFICALLY, and the hundreds of thousands kids who are JUST LIKE THEM - REAL, INDIVIDUAL, SPECIFIC PEOPLE who have needs, physical, emotional, personal and eternal. All of which World Vision is playing a part in meeting. Don't abandon these kids. And if you're not a World Vision Sponsor, consider stepping up for the kids who are being let down in the name of doctrine and legalism.
Friday, March 21, 2014
Solid and secure
When I was a little girl, about the age my daughter is now, my parents took me on a family vacation to Hawaii. One of the things we did while were there was take my first catamaran ride. I remember it was a perfectly beautiful Hawaiian day. The sky was gorgeous, the temperature perfect and the ocean stretched out as far as the eye could see in all the beautiful shades of blue that only God Himself could paint so perfectly.
The blues were breathtaking, but it was the green that knocked the wind out of me. And it was not stretched out before me, but it certainly seemed to want to pull something out from inside me. We were not out on the water more than a few minutes before I started to feel as sick as a dog. I was torn between crumpling down into a pile or hanging my head off the side. The waters weren't even all that rocky, but they were enough to turn my stomach into a mess.
Comfort was nowhere to be found. Head between knees, hands over eyes, fetal position on the bench - nothing brought me or my stomach any peace. And I think it was about this time that my dad came and found me, and from the look on his face the color of mine was clear - NOT GOOD GREEN. He sat down on the bench and had me lay down with my head in his lap looking out toward the waters. My stomach turned as the waters shifted with the waves.
My dad leaned down into my ear. "See that island off in the distance?" he asked. With the rise and fall of the catamaran I caught sight of it. "Look straight at it," he said. I think I moaned my objection wanting to close my eyes and block out the waters and their movement, but my father sternly warned against it. "Don't close your eyes," he said. "Trust me, focus on the island over there that is solid and isn't moving."
In desperation and doubt I did what my Father said. I stopped looking at the waves that rushed about, and I looked over and beyond the side of the boat that swayed as it rode above them and I fixed my eyes on the island, solid and secure, Slowly but surely my nausea began to subside. As my color started to slowly return to a more human shade, my dad told me again, "When you're disturbed by the things that are moving, and you feel tossed about, you have to look at what is solid and secure."
There was a deep wisdom in my father's advice that I didn't fully recognize that day some 32 years ago. But the Truth of it resonates in my mind nonetheless as we find ourselves riding in a different kind of waters today.
There is so much that is uncertain, both in our personal lives and in the "bigger picture" as well. The economy is bad, and doesn't offer a lot of hope to our challenges in our personal finances. Health of some in our family is questionable, jobs are at risk, which leads to a long list of other waves that beg to toss us about. And when I catch myself looking at all that is swirling around us in "the boat" we are in, emotionally speaking I can feel myself start to turn pretty green.
But I hear my heavenly Father whispering the same kind of Truth that my daddy whispered into my ear that day on the catamaran. "Look at what's solid and secure," He says. "Fix your eyes on what, and more importantly Who, does not move."
Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever. He is standing firm in the midst of the storms we are facing. The Word of God promises peace when we fix our eyes on Him. (Isaiah 26:3) It's not a promise of peaceful circumstances, but a promise of peace in the midst of whatever situation, struggle or even crisis we may face.
Just like I needed to fix my eyes on the island to calm my stomach, it is by fixing my eyes, heart, mind and faith on the Lord that my spirit will be calmed in the ride on the waters of life. Because however I may feel tossed about - He alone is the One thing unmoving. He alone is the One that is solid and secure.
The good news is that His security is for far more than this temporary life. As I keep my eyes fixed on Him in the waters, a time will come when my "catamaran" will finally find itself fully docking on the firm shores of the Lord and I will spend my secured eternity with Him there. That's where my home is already built, prepared for me by Him. I just need to keep my eyes focused on my way, and it will bring a strength and peace that will help me get through this ride called life.
I will lift up my eyes to the hills—
From whence comes my help?
My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.
He will not allow your foot to be moved;
He who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, He who keeps Israel
Shall neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord is your keeper;
The Lord is your shade at your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
Nor the moon by night.
The Lord shall preserve you from all evil;
He shall preserve your soul.
The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in
From this time forth, and even forevermore.
Psalm 121
Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18
The blues were breathtaking, but it was the green that knocked the wind out of me. And it was not stretched out before me, but it certainly seemed to want to pull something out from inside me. We were not out on the water more than a few minutes before I started to feel as sick as a dog. I was torn between crumpling down into a pile or hanging my head off the side. The waters weren't even all that rocky, but they were enough to turn my stomach into a mess.
Comfort was nowhere to be found. Head between knees, hands over eyes, fetal position on the bench - nothing brought me or my stomach any peace. And I think it was about this time that my dad came and found me, and from the look on his face the color of mine was clear - NOT GOOD GREEN. He sat down on the bench and had me lay down with my head in his lap looking out toward the waters. My stomach turned as the waters shifted with the waves.
My dad leaned down into my ear. "See that island off in the distance?" he asked. With the rise and fall of the catamaran I caught sight of it. "Look straight at it," he said. I think I moaned my objection wanting to close my eyes and block out the waters and their movement, but my father sternly warned against it. "Don't close your eyes," he said. "Trust me, focus on the island over there that is solid and isn't moving."
In desperation and doubt I did what my Father said. I stopped looking at the waves that rushed about, and I looked over and beyond the side of the boat that swayed as it rode above them and I fixed my eyes on the island, solid and secure, Slowly but surely my nausea began to subside. As my color started to slowly return to a more human shade, my dad told me again, "When you're disturbed by the things that are moving, and you feel tossed about, you have to look at what is solid and secure."
There was a deep wisdom in my father's advice that I didn't fully recognize that day some 32 years ago. But the Truth of it resonates in my mind nonetheless as we find ourselves riding in a different kind of waters today.
There is so much that is uncertain, both in our personal lives and in the "bigger picture" as well. The economy is bad, and doesn't offer a lot of hope to our challenges in our personal finances. Health of some in our family is questionable, jobs are at risk, which leads to a long list of other waves that beg to toss us about. And when I catch myself looking at all that is swirling around us in "the boat" we are in, emotionally speaking I can feel myself start to turn pretty green.
But I hear my heavenly Father whispering the same kind of Truth that my daddy whispered into my ear that day on the catamaran. "Look at what's solid and secure," He says. "Fix your eyes on what, and more importantly Who, does not move."
Jesus is the same yesterday, today and forever. He is standing firm in the midst of the storms we are facing. The Word of God promises peace when we fix our eyes on Him. (Isaiah 26:3) It's not a promise of peaceful circumstances, but a promise of peace in the midst of whatever situation, struggle or even crisis we may face.
Just like I needed to fix my eyes on the island to calm my stomach, it is by fixing my eyes, heart, mind and faith on the Lord that my spirit will be calmed in the ride on the waters of life. Because however I may feel tossed about - He alone is the One thing unmoving. He alone is the One that is solid and secure.
The good news is that His security is for far more than this temporary life. As I keep my eyes fixed on Him in the waters, a time will come when my "catamaran" will finally find itself fully docking on the firm shores of the Lord and I will spend my secured eternity with Him there. That's where my home is already built, prepared for me by Him. I just need to keep my eyes focused on my way, and it will bring a strength and peace that will help me get through this ride called life.
From whence comes my help?
My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.
He will not allow your foot to be moved;
He who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, He who keeps Israel
Shall neither slumber nor sleep.
The Lord is your keeper;
The Lord is your shade at your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
Nor the moon by night.
The Lord shall preserve you from all evil;
He shall preserve your soul.
The Lord shall preserve your going out and your coming in
From this time forth, and even forevermore.
Psalm 121
Therefore we do not lose heart. Even though our outward man is perishing, yet the inward man is being renewed day by day. For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, is working for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory, while we do not look at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen. For the things which are seen are temporary, but the things which are not seen are eternal.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
50 Shades of Gray and then some... #50Shades
Twenty-two years ago this month I suffered my first miscarriage. I didn't know it at the time, but it turned out to be a huge turning point in my life, and a bookended on the part of my life I lived apart from Christ.
I had gotten married just ten months before, but I had been trying desperately to get pregnant for over a year. The child I had aborted two and a half years before that had created a hole in my heart that I was trying so very hard to fill.
I was celebrating my 22nd birthday on a Friday at Disneyland the day the bleeding started. I was very irregular in my cycles so I thought it was just the unfortunate arrival of an unexpected visitor. The next day I spent resting as the bleeding got heavier and more uncomfortable, but on Sunday I got up and got dressed because Neal and I had committed to attend the couple's wedding shower of one of his good friends. Within a short while after our arrival my pain and bleeding was so severe that Neal actually had to carry me out of the party and drive me home.
I suffered through the night and made an appointment to see a doctor on Monday afternoon. Whether it was grace or providence, I do not know, that had me laying in the office of a woman doctor who was on call that afternoon. I am to this day thankful that it was a woman doctor because I felt a level of sensitivity from her as she examined me and told me that I was in the final stages of a miscarriage.
"It's not your fault, it's not your fault," she said repeatedly. "It just happens."
Her words were cold comfort, but I appreciated the effort just the same. In that moment as I gathered myself together and prepared to leave the doctor's office, an unquestionable certainty filled me, mind body and soul. I knew she told me it was nothing I had done, but to the very depth of myself I knew she was wrong. This was my justice. This was what I deserved. God, I was certain, was paying me back for the sin that I hidden so deeply in my heart.
I had killed my child, and now he took another one away. I had aborted my first pregnancy when I was nineteen, and now He took this baby from me on my 22nd birthday. I was destroyed.
What made matters worse was it was a secret. I had lied and kept the truth from the father of both my children. My new husband had no idea that I had lied to him about aborting our first baby, and he had no understanding of why I was so desperate to have another. I couldn't even drive myself home from the doctor that day. I felt guilt, shame, pain, and I believed with my whole heart I deserved exactly what I had received. God had brought down the hammer, and rightly so.
I think back about that girl and my heart breaks for her. She really had no concept of who God was. Her belief and image of an angry, punishing being was so real, but so completely inaccurate. I am so grateful that God was swift in that time of utter brokenness to send me into the path of people who would correct my errant understanding of who God was. Someone took me to the foot of the cross, and in my muck and mire and shattered spirit, they bent with me there and explained the truth about Jesus.
They told me about Jesus, the very Son of God, who loved me so much he came to earth and gave up His majesty to live life as a man so He could conquer the sin and darkness that so easily entangled me. They told me about a Father God who loved me so much He was willing to crucify that perfect, beloved Son to pay the penalty of death that I so completely deserved. My soul could scarcely comprehend the magnitude of grace... it was amazing.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now was found. Was blind but then I did see.
It's a compelling moment to revisit, and one that as the years went by I slowly seemed to forget. For as the years passed I exchanged this sold out amazement, of a girl undeservedly rescued, awed by the grace of God and the power of forgiveness and exchanged it for a slowly built wall of self-righteousness and works. Forgetting the miracle I had been given, I began to actually think I was somehow impacting God - impressing or pleasing Him with my, "my," gifts and talents and works, rather than living in the awareness of how His finished work had impacted me. How it had changed me. How it had changed my whole world. I just simply seemed to forget.
The farther I walked away from those first days, the more black and white the world seemed to become, until one day everything was black and white, right or wrong, of God or of the devil - and I had crowned myself the expert of it all. Life was clear to me, I knew everything I needed to know, and could proclaim judgment like God Himself, and often did. There were NO gray areas.
But these past few years God has been dealing with me and the wall that I'd built. I didn't really realize that it had completely obscured the cross, but it also hid the truth about the woman that had bent her knee there in total recognition of her need for her salvation and her Savior. Now make no mistake, God loves each of the women that I was on either side of the wall equally. But just as He was not willing to leave me broken, neither was He willing to leave me self-made. He needed both of me to open my eyes and recognize my need of the Savior. We both needed to be amazed. And as God has slowly and systematically undone my wall of works and self-righteousness, and removed the obstacle in my view of the cross, I am amazed again, and I do remember the God who loves sinners, so much so that He was willing to lay down His life to rescue us from the punishment we all so completely deserve.
With the wall down further, my view less obscured, as I look around, I realize it is better that I see the world around me not in black and white, but in all the shades of gray that do not see the reality as clearly as I'd thought. Don't misunderstand me, I DO believe the world is "black and white." There is a clear right and wrong in all things. Morals are absolute. But what I recognize now is that I am an expert in none of it.
God alone belongs on the throne. He is the only one who absolutely sees the black and white, and it's not just ok that I see things in 50 shades of gray, but it is better that I see the world around me in 50 shades of GRACE. Whatever I may know, it will never compare to what I don't. The heart, the hurt, the motive of another, I cannot comprehend the how or why of another's struggle, only God can do that. Only He sees evreything, He alone is the omniscient One.
There was an incredible penalty paid to ransom me from myself. God thought I was worth it. I wasn't, at least not until He said I was. And as I look around I have a renewed compulsion in my heart to reach out to the lost. Maybe they are feeling broken, or maybe they feel self-made, either way, if they don't have Jesus as their Savior, they need Him. But I also feel compelled to remind those of us who have encountered Him at the cross not to forget, we've done Him no favor and we can never do Him any service or good that would cause Him to love us one ounce more than He did when we came to Him full of sin and need. He loved us at our worst first, and He loved us with His everything. It is incomprehensible this grace, this Amazing Grace.
We need to hold onto it, to remember who we are and from whence we came. And we need to let it go, we need to let it flow into the lives of those around us - the backslidden, the legalist, the heathen, the rebel. We need to look at them all with 50 shades of grace and then some. If they don't know the Lord they need to, and we need to share the hope we have. And if they do know Him they need to never forget that the reality is it's all about Jesus anyway. Let's stop being impressed with ourselves and make sure that the One on the throne is the only One qualified to be there.
I want to share this song below, "Rooftops" by Jesus Culture, because I think it captures the heart of who I was at the cross. I wanted to tell the whole world about what Christ had done for me. And now as He unpacks the religion I built over the two decades, it's who I believe He wants me to be again,it's who I should have always been: the one who will proclaim Him, His goodness and His grace...
Here I am before you
Falling in love and seeking your truth
Knowing that your perfect grace
Has brought me to this place
Because of you I freely live
My life to you, oh God, I give
So I stand before You God
I lift my voice because you set me free
So I shout out your name from the rooftops I proclaim
That I am Yours, I am yours
I had gotten married just ten months before, but I had been trying desperately to get pregnant for over a year. The child I had aborted two and a half years before that had created a hole in my heart that I was trying so very hard to fill.
I was celebrating my 22nd birthday on a Friday at Disneyland the day the bleeding started. I was very irregular in my cycles so I thought it was just the unfortunate arrival of an unexpected visitor. The next day I spent resting as the bleeding got heavier and more uncomfortable, but on Sunday I got up and got dressed because Neal and I had committed to attend the couple's wedding shower of one of his good friends. Within a short while after our arrival my pain and bleeding was so severe that Neal actually had to carry me out of the party and drive me home.
I suffered through the night and made an appointment to see a doctor on Monday afternoon. Whether it was grace or providence, I do not know, that had me laying in the office of a woman doctor who was on call that afternoon. I am to this day thankful that it was a woman doctor because I felt a level of sensitivity from her as she examined me and told me that I was in the final stages of a miscarriage.
"It's not your fault, it's not your fault," she said repeatedly. "It just happens."
Her words were cold comfort, but I appreciated the effort just the same. In that moment as I gathered myself together and prepared to leave the doctor's office, an unquestionable certainty filled me, mind body and soul. I knew she told me it was nothing I had done, but to the very depth of myself I knew she was wrong. This was my justice. This was what I deserved. God, I was certain, was paying me back for the sin that I hidden so deeply in my heart.
I had killed my child, and now he took another one away. I had aborted my first pregnancy when I was nineteen, and now He took this baby from me on my 22nd birthday. I was destroyed.
What made matters worse was it was a secret. I had lied and kept the truth from the father of both my children. My new husband had no idea that I had lied to him about aborting our first baby, and he had no understanding of why I was so desperate to have another. I couldn't even drive myself home from the doctor that day. I felt guilt, shame, pain, and I believed with my whole heart I deserved exactly what I had received. God had brought down the hammer, and rightly so.
I think back about that girl and my heart breaks for her. She really had no concept of who God was. Her belief and image of an angry, punishing being was so real, but so completely inaccurate. I am so grateful that God was swift in that time of utter brokenness to send me into the path of people who would correct my errant understanding of who God was. Someone took me to the foot of the cross, and in my muck and mire and shattered spirit, they bent with me there and explained the truth about Jesus.
They told me about Jesus, the very Son of God, who loved me so much he came to earth and gave up His majesty to live life as a man so He could conquer the sin and darkness that so easily entangled me. They told me about a Father God who loved me so much He was willing to crucify that perfect, beloved Son to pay the penalty of death that I so completely deserved. My soul could scarcely comprehend the magnitude of grace... it was amazing.
Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. I once was lost but now was found. Was blind but then I did see.
It's a compelling moment to revisit, and one that as the years went by I slowly seemed to forget. For as the years passed I exchanged this sold out amazement, of a girl undeservedly rescued, awed by the grace of God and the power of forgiveness and exchanged it for a slowly built wall of self-righteousness and works. Forgetting the miracle I had been given, I began to actually think I was somehow impacting God - impressing or pleasing Him with my, "my," gifts and talents and works, rather than living in the awareness of how His finished work had impacted me. How it had changed me. How it had changed my whole world. I just simply seemed to forget.
The farther I walked away from those first days, the more black and white the world seemed to become, until one day everything was black and white, right or wrong, of God or of the devil - and I had crowned myself the expert of it all. Life was clear to me, I knew everything I needed to know, and could proclaim judgment like God Himself, and often did. There were NO gray areas.
But these past few years God has been dealing with me and the wall that I'd built. I didn't really realize that it had completely obscured the cross, but it also hid the truth about the woman that had bent her knee there in total recognition of her need for her salvation and her Savior. Now make no mistake, God loves each of the women that I was on either side of the wall equally. But just as He was not willing to leave me broken, neither was He willing to leave me self-made. He needed both of me to open my eyes and recognize my need of the Savior. We both needed to be amazed. And as God has slowly and systematically undone my wall of works and self-righteousness, and removed the obstacle in my view of the cross, I am amazed again, and I do remember the God who loves sinners, so much so that He was willing to lay down His life to rescue us from the punishment we all so completely deserve.
With the wall down further, my view less obscured, as I look around, I realize it is better that I see the world around me not in black and white, but in all the shades of gray that do not see the reality as clearly as I'd thought. Don't misunderstand me, I DO believe the world is "black and white." There is a clear right and wrong in all things. Morals are absolute. But what I recognize now is that I am an expert in none of it.
God alone belongs on the throne. He is the only one who absolutely sees the black and white, and it's not just ok that I see things in 50 shades of gray, but it is better that I see the world around me in 50 shades of GRACE. Whatever I may know, it will never compare to what I don't. The heart, the hurt, the motive of another, I cannot comprehend the how or why of another's struggle, only God can do that. Only He sees evreything, He alone is the omniscient One.
There was an incredible penalty paid to ransom me from myself. God thought I was worth it. I wasn't, at least not until He said I was. And as I look around I have a renewed compulsion in my heart to reach out to the lost. Maybe they are feeling broken, or maybe they feel self-made, either way, if they don't have Jesus as their Savior, they need Him. But I also feel compelled to remind those of us who have encountered Him at the cross not to forget, we've done Him no favor and we can never do Him any service or good that would cause Him to love us one ounce more than He did when we came to Him full of sin and need. He loved us at our worst first, and He loved us with His everything. It is incomprehensible this grace, this Amazing Grace.
We need to hold onto it, to remember who we are and from whence we came. And we need to let it go, we need to let it flow into the lives of those around us - the backslidden, the legalist, the heathen, the rebel. We need to look at them all with 50 shades of grace and then some. If they don't know the Lord they need to, and we need to share the hope we have. And if they do know Him they need to never forget that the reality is it's all about Jesus anyway. Let's stop being impressed with ourselves and make sure that the One on the throne is the only One qualified to be there.
I want to share this song below, "Rooftops" by Jesus Culture, because I think it captures the heart of who I was at the cross. I wanted to tell the whole world about what Christ had done for me. And now as He unpacks the religion I built over the two decades, it's who I believe He wants me to be again,it's who I should have always been: the one who will proclaim Him, His goodness and His grace...
Falling in love and seeking your truth
Knowing that your perfect grace
Has brought me to this place
Because of you I freely live
My life to you, oh God, I give
So I stand before You God
I lift my voice because you set me free
So I shout out your name from the rooftops I proclaim
That I am Yours, I am yours
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