Stupid Stuff we Christians Say

"Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep."

Romans 12:15

 

A while back a friend showed me a humorous clip on YouTube in which two guys were talking and everything said was said in the catchphrases Christians use. When I saw the clip, I laughed. But afterward I thought about a friend I met in a recovery group. He came to our group as an unbeliever with a great big hunger for God. Our group was lead by a great teacher who was sensitive the group members. One night as he was teaching on a passage, the guy raised his hand and said that the passage just made him angry and that he was totally confused by what we were reading. The teacher took it all in stride and encouraged dialogue, carefully answering questions with out using church lingo. He even went on to teach a Bible Study specifically designed for the new believers in the group so they could ask questions and express whatever emotions came up with what they read. They went through the book of John which showed them how Christ related to people. I have often wondered since then, how many people come in and sit down in a church hear church jargon that sounds like Greek to them.

Since that time I have been serving in a ministry that offers support groups for women and many of them come into our group with some deep heart wounds. And some of the stuff Christians have said to them as they attempted to share about their emotional pain is what I have come to place in the category of "Stupid stuff Christians say to hurting people!" Today I want to just address a few of those things we graced humans have a tendency to say when we come into contact with another's pain.

We've had women share about their journey with clinical depression. Most were told at one time or another by Christians that if they would just read their Bible more, pray harder, serve others, love God more, and quit being self-centered they would feel better. Now, I know when I have a melancholy day, I can try anyone of those things and I will feel better. But people who are struggling with clinical depression have brain chemical imbalances that are severe enough to cause the negative thoughts with which they struggle. The imbalance also causes body aches and a lack of energy so profound that getting out of bed and into clothes can leave them totally exhausted. Sometimes the imbalance even causes dense brain fog that makes focusing on prayer and Bible reading next to impossible. Most all of them also express shame that runs deep because they mistakenly believe good Christians aren't supposed to feel depressed. They label themselves as defective because they haven't been able to pull themselves out of the funk they feel like they are drowning in. Quite frankly, the simplistic suggestions and admonitions others give them don't help. If anything, the comments deepen the shame they experience, reinforce the desire to isolate, and feeds the negative view of themselves. Thankfully, most of our ladies connect with Christian therapists who offer them the support that they need to get better. Out of all the ladies I have worked with in group, I can only remember one who had a caring response from someone with whom she had shared her struggle with depression. The person told her she was sorry she was hurting, was thankful she shared her story, and that she would love to hear what God teaches her through the season of depression when she was ready to share it. Our lady felt validated and began to hope that God would even use the depression in her life." Sadly, one of the most shaming statements depressed women hear, is that God won't give them more than they can handle. They are trying hard to hold on, but the joy seems out of reach. 

A few years ago I sat in the ICU unit with our son for a two week span. I did everything I was supposed to do as a good Christian lady. I pretty much held it together and stuffed the overwhelming fear I felt and the grief of almost losing him. I sat with him day after day silently praying his body would heal and he could come home with me. I had some good friends who were checking up on us, but at the time I had a lot of misconceptions of what a Christian was supposed to be like. My friends told me letter they were both worried that our circumstances were going to catch up with me sooner or later, but I maintained I was fine when asked. It was not until after our son was well enough to come home that I had a chance to breath and my emotions began to churn inside. I bumped into a couple of acquaintances who had heard about our sons accident. They asked about him and as I thought about what we had been through I became overwhelmed with emotion and I began blurting out the whole story to these people I casually knew. Both of the them interrupted my monologue, saying, "Isn't he okay now?" In the moment I needed to share my story and what it felt like to sit in a hospital praying for my child to be healed, knowing there was nothing I could do to insure I would get the answer my heart desired. I needed to share how vulnerable it felt to trust doctors we had just met to make crucial decisions concerning his health and treatment plan. I just needed the people to hear my story and mirror my fear and grief before I could rejoice. I realize they had no clue their question triggered suppressed emotions and I really caught them off guard with the intensity I felt. I learned from that experience to journal prayers and in those prayers to be honest and transparent with God as I go through things. I learned how to ask safe people to let me talk during painful events so that I don't bottle it up. But I also leaned that when I ask someone how she is doing and she begins to tell me her story, to let her talk about her deepest fears, anxieties, and desires. I learned to thank her for trusting me enough to be real. It feels sacred to have another person share their hard with me. The most frustrating words I heard during that time, "Thank goodness God will only give you what you can handle."

As I sat in the hospital I remembered having coffee with a friend whose child is severely disabled and requires constant care. She allowed me to ask her questions about her journey and I was blessed by her honesty. Her daughter suffers severe pain daily that would make any mama feel as if her heart is being squeezed in two by a vice grip. Her daughter's health is fragile and she faces the possibility of losing her often. Their suffering is long term and their suffering is intense. When I asked how people have responded to their situation she shared that when she first tells people about it, they are compassionate and offer to pray with and for her and her family. Some have been, still are, and will continue to be their faithful prayer warriors for as long as they are on this difficult journey. Others follow up to see how they are doing and when she gives them an honest account of their week it becomes obvious they are uncomfortable with her truth. Some hoped things would be better. Some hoped  she would say they are doing fine. But the truth of it is their "fine" is truly never going to be fine. Then there are those people who think if she and her husband just had enough faith, truly confessed their sin, or prayed harder that their daughter would improve, maybe even be healed.  Then their comes those words I hate the most, "God will only give you what you can handle.

Then there are those who have suffered losses--losses of things, homes, dreams and people. Some of the deaths experienced were expected, some weren't. Some losses were gradual as in the case of cancer where goodbyes were said, regrets expressed, and forgiveness granted. Others were unable to convey those things because dementia took away the ability to do so. Some deaths were so sudden that goodbyes, sorrow, love, grace, and regrets went unvoiced. And then after the loss came the stupid stuff that people say that stings--stupid stuff like, "You can always get pregnant again," "The good die young," and yep, you know it, "At least we know God will never give you more than you can handle!"

Then their are those who share stories of abuses of all kinds--physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual. Those are the stories that people don't want to hear, because they don't want to believe humans can really be so harsh, so hurtful, and so despicable, but we can! Those are the stories believers don't want to hear, because they are afraid to wrestle with the question of a good God and such evil co-existing. Those are the stories that believers don't want to hear, because they don't understand that trauma has changed the human brains that store such horrible stories. Those changes hinder the ability to trust, to connect at a heart level, and to move past the trauma pain. But what we don't realize is when we offer the usual platitudes or we stare blankly bathing another in a deafening silence we cause the person to push down the pain at the same time the shame they feel intensifies it. Oh the things we have heard in our groups concerning those things, "You just need to forgive and forget." "You need to keep quiet or you will destroy the family." "You need to keep quiet or you will hurt the church's reputation." "It is all in the past, you just need to move on." And then, yes, you have guessed it, "Thank goodness God didn't give you more than you can handle."

I am not going to address all the stupid stuff we people say, just the more than you can handle bit. In Galations 6 Paul tells us to bear one another's burdens and for each to bear his own burden. In the original language the burdens we are to bear are the ones too big for one person to handle alone. At the same time we aren't supposed to bear the burdens another is capable of bearing themselves. It takes wisdom and godly discernment to know the difference. Spouses of people with chronic illness get these verses. There at time have to take over for their spouse and they at times have to gently encourage them to do what they are able. We use the phrase that God won't give you more than you can handle to suppress our uncomfortable feelings of powerlessness. A better option would be honest conversations that would help us find out if there is anything we can do to help bear those big burdens. It might be a ministry of meals, a ministry of encouragement, a ministry of praying, a ministry of offering child care, a ministry of lawn mowing, a ministry of listening, or even a simple ministry of presence.   

But one of the most important ministries we can offer is found in the verse at the top of the blog..."Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep."  Sounds simple, but believe me it isn't. To do this, we have to stay present physically, emotionally, and spiritually. To do this, we have to let down our defenses that guard our heart from pain to enter into another's pain--pain that we may or may not fully understand, pain that we can't remove, or heal. As I have shared, I worked with a counselor on abuse. After I shared my story the first time, I sat silently looking at the floor because it was safer than facing those infamous counselor eyes. I waited for admonitions to forgive, to move on, and maybe a few other stupid things we Christians say. But there was silence. When the shame had calmed enough, I glanced up and saw that she was sitting there with tears streaming down her face. She was crying the tears I was shoving down deep inside. Seeing her compassion melted the hard shell I had built around my heart and made way for a long hard journey we took together. She cried with me when I lost friends, parents, and faced the fears of having kids in combat. We didn't just cry, we identified and expressed all sorts of emotions. At times we even laughed and we laughed hard. She rejoiced with me when I published each book and prayed over each one of them with me. All the admonitions and platitudes I heard over the years didn't heal the wounds in my heart or return my soul to joy. It was having that counselor in addition to some very extraordinary friends who understood the healing journey and who were willing to walk with me and hear all the words I needed to say, made it safe for me to feel, and were willing to weep with me when I wept and then rejoiced with me when my joy returned. That was what gave me the freedom to feel the pain that needed to be healed. That was what opened the door of my heart that allowed me to experience God at deeper levels. That was what made it possible to become real enough to fully experience His grace and to let go of the critical inner voice that so often bathed me in shame. Sometimes the hard we are tempted to try to fix with platitudes--those stupid sayings we have all said and all hate to hear--is the hard that is the medium that God uses to form the heart connections that are the conduit for healing. When we shame others with our words we shut down the very process they need to go through to heal the brain changes that were caused by trauma. Oh, how I pray with the psalmist, "set a guard, O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips!" (Psalm 141:3) I so want my words to not wound. I want them to impart hope and life as they invite others to face truth and to rest close to the Savior's heart.

Marriage isn't for Sissys

"Wives submit to you own husbands, as to the Lord..

Now as the church submits to Christ,

so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands.

Husbands, love you wife as Christ loved the church and gave himself for her...

In the same way husbands should love their wives as their own bodies.

He who loves his wife loves himself."

Ephesians 5:22-28

I was recently sitting in a meeting with a group of people discussing things our church could do to foster healthy marriages. I pointed out that our men's ministry was doing a Bible study for men on marriage. I was very excited about this because this is the first time I have ever heard of the men doing this kind of study on their own. Usually it is the women in the church who buy books on marriage, who discuss it with their friends,  or who drag their husbands to marriage conferences, hoping to learn how to have better marriage. One of the men jokingly said that maybe they would get a better turn out if they didn't advertise that the study was on marriage as he held up his hand in a feminine gesture. I know the guy was joking, but I was so irritated by the gesture and by his statement. Later I realized I was really irritated because there is probably truth to his statement.

As I have done research for different writing projects I've come across articles casting blame on the issue of men not rising to be spiritual leaders. Some articles indicated it was the women's lib movement that removed men from leadership. Some have said it is due to the harsh criticisms spouted by hurting, angry wives that left men too fearful to step up to their God-given role. Some have said it is technology and higher education that replaced the apprenticeships in which young teenaged boys learned a trade from grown men, which also allowed them to learn what it meant to be a man. Some have suggested it's the business of our culture and the long work hours preventing men from teaching sons how to be men. Some have suggested that it is the educational system that used methods of education that doesn't help young men to be strong men. Some have suggested it is due to the breakdown of the family unit that leaves dads less involved. Probably all of those things have played a part in the break down of male leadership, but I believe there is a whole lot more to it. Regardless of the reasons, we need to understand a profound truth--marriage isn't for sissies!

There are five reasons that marriage isn't for sissies. I believe our culture (including the church) has lost sight of the sacredness of marriage. Marriage wasn't invented by man, it was designed by God to reflect His love for the church and His relationship to her. Marriage was also designed to reflect the truth that God is a relational God and He created us to be relational beings. He designed marriage to be the most intimate relationship we have. It is to be what we call a "oneness" relationship, picturing the relationship between the members of the Trinity. This kind of intimacy isn't for the faint hearted, it requires hard work. It requires each person to give100%. everyday Men are called to love as Christ loved the church. That isn't a sissy thing! His love is a love that initiates. It is bold. It is radical in its expressions. It is hard because man from the time of the fall has been a selfish, prideful being. Because of this, to love as Jesus loves requires great amounts of strength, humility, courage, self-sacrifice, restraint, and faith. It is a love that stands firm in the face of hardship, relational difficulties, sin, hurt, and misunderstanding. It is a love that seeks to serve when ever thing in him wants to be served. It is a love that stands firm when everything in him wants to leave physically and/or  emotionally. The gospels show Jesus modeling this love. Loving like this will be the hardest thing a man ever does because everything in him will want to demand his rights, demand respect, and to do his own thing his own way in his own time. Everything in him will want to give up, walk away, withdraw, and disregard his wife out of anger, disappointment, frustration, or maybe even out of lust. But the staying, the moment by moment choices to love, that is where really masculinity is born. Masculinity is men rising up and consistently doing what God has called them to do.

Conversely if men think women have the easier role, they are wrong. God has called us to submit and to respect our own husbands. We have the same flesh problems men do. We have to deal with our own selfish hearts that want what we want when we want it. We have to live down insecurities that tell us we are too much and not enough at the same times. Believe it or not, we have to deal with lust as well. We have to choose to be godly with all sorts of crazy hormonal fluctuations and relational demands that our families put on us. We have the crazy calling of being like Sarah who showed godly respect to her lying, fearful husband who cared more about his life than her sexual integrity. It takes as much strength, courage, self-sacrifice, and faith for a woman to submit to a very human spouse as it does for a man to fully love his wife as Jesus loved the church. 

The second reason marriage isn't for sissies is because God has called us to covenant marriages, not contract ones. We live in a society that is contract oriented and we carry this orientation over to marriage. Sadly, there is a huge difference in contracts and covenants. Contracts are first written and then relationships flow from the keeping of the contracts and relationships end when contracts are broken. Contract marriages evoke a fear of abandonment which leads to two things. First, they lead to perfectionism and self-contempt. Second, they lead to a strong tendency towards legalism and self-protection and we end up looking out for ourselves above the other person. We watch his or her every move to be sure the contract is upheld. Contempt for others flows out of this.

A covenant marriage is different in that a relationship is first initiated and then laws, limits, and boundaries are established to confirm and protect both the relationship and those in it. We feel more secure in this type of relationship because the driving force behind it is love. The mindset of this would be for each person in the covenant to choose to act and react in such a way that the relationship and those in it are continuously protected. I know spiritual abusers can use the idea of the covenant marriage to act abusively and/or negligently, knowing the other won't leave because of the covenant and that kind of spiritual abuse needs to be strongly confronted. At the end of the day, covenant people wisely reflect on how they' themselves have affirmed and protected their covenant--their sacred marriage--and when failure occurs, they take ownership of the failure and quickly make amends.  

Third, marriage isn't for sissies because it is a sacred ground for growth. Because of this it is a relationship that requires enormous amounts of transparency and vulnerability. It's a relationship in which old wounds and old messages get triggered. Due to the fall, when this happens, we have a tendency to blame our emotions and reactions on the one who triggers them. Out of unresolved hurts flow defensiveness, anger, hurtful words, and wounding actions. Think of people standing in lines in a department store at Christmas time. Some people wait patiently. They smile at others, send up arrow prayers for the overworked cashiers, let someone with less items go ahead of them, and play peep eye with the toddler sitting in the basket ahead of them. Then there are the people who sigh loudly, impatiently shift from one foot to the other, try to crowd the line, and make rude comments about the competency of those working. Every one standing in line is subject to the same trigger--the "wait." However, they respond differently because the trigger exposes what was in their hearts. Those with impatient hearts believe they are entitled and shouldn't have to wait. Their actions expose the selfishness inside. (I'm thankful for a few long lines that exposed the selfish heart in me.) Because marriage is the most intimate of all relationships, it tends to trigger our "stuff" the most. It exposes past unhealed wounds, selfish attitudes, defensive responses, and insecurities based on lies. Because of this it is the relationship that has the most potential to help us become more like Christ. And that isn't for sissies, because the exposure of those things hurts. and requires courage, humility, and plain old gumption to put down fleshly tendencies that cause us to want to control or hide from someone who exposes the messiness in our heart. It takes courage to not run from the exposure. Quite frankly sissies don't qualify for intimate relationships that foster growth. 

The fourth reason marriage isn't for sissies is because when we marry we enter a very real battle with a very cunning enemy who seeks to destroy marriages because they were designed to picture the relationship Christ has to His church. Even though Satan was defeated at the cross, many of us give him power by believing his lies and his half truths--those lies that tells us we are unloved and unloveable, that we are too much and/or too little, that we are called to entitlement instead of servanthood, and that old wounds don't need healing. We also give him power when we listen to his cunning voice and allow it to draw us into sick bondages like eating disorders that rob us of life, joy, healthy, and human relationships, addictions that kill both the body and the soul, or into pornography which isolates, increases selfishness, and destroys the potential for the real intimacy that can satisfy the human heart.

Finally the fifth reason that marriage isn't for sissies is because it is the home base for raising the next generation of believers. There is no place better for sons to learn to be spiritual leaders who love radically, nurture gently, serve humbly, and fight the enemy aggressively to protect the covenant bond. There is also no better place for daughters to learn what is to be loved with godly love that values and protects their personhood, beauty, and integrity so she has the courage to wait for God's best. It is the best place for her to learn how to walk with God in such a way that submission and respect flow out of a deep abiding trust in God who is good and who radically loves her.

Could it be that it is time for us to change how we view marriage and what it takes to be men and women of God? We aren't just called to be "nice" people. We are called to be warriors and warrior princesses who are wise, recognizing the schemes of the enemy who seeks to destroy all that emulates God and His great love. Maybe men need to accept the fact that they are called to a radical love that takes more courage than anything else that they will ever be called to do. Maybe, women need to rise up and realize they have been called to respect their husbands as Sarah did which takes greater courage and grace than we can muster up without the Lord. Maybe it is time for men to live courageously and become passionate about marriage and women to realize shaming won't give courage. Maybe both men and women need to quit viewing their spouses as the enemy and quit being sissies so that we can fight together to defeat the real enemy. Joy comes from being the warrior spouses that walk in victory loving as He loves.

No Longer Walking Dead

I have a friend who is an avid reader who often mentions books that she has read and by which she has been impacted. She recently told me about a book called, Grace for the Good Girl, by Emily P. Freeman. I started reading it on vacation and realized that the book has brought me back to my roots. By roots I don't mean my family of origin, I mean church roots--the church I first felt like I  became a part of a spiritual family. This church also happened to be the first church I attended that used expository teaching. The pastor taught through whole books of the Bible. Yet, when he would get to a passage on a topic like marriage he was so thorough in handling the topic I learned more about the topic than most people do whose pastors teach only topical sermons. It was a great place for a young believer who had a lot of questions about the Bible to be. As I have been reading through Freeman's book on grace, it surprisingly echoes the teachings that came out of the pulpit in my church thirty years ago. It also echoed some of the things the pastor said to us conversationally. 

I must say that I was in my baby making years during the time we were at that church. I had a handful of babies and toddlers and was learning so much at the time that I didn't have a chance to reflect on all that I was learning and how it was supposed to impact my life and my thinking. I guess it would be accurate to say that at the time we left there I had a headful of great Bible knowledge and was trying really hard to be good, to earn love from God and man, and to live a life that pleased God.

During our stay there, we had a guy break into our home during one of my pregnancies and I didn't sleep the last half of the pregnancy. This set me up for a good case of post partum depression. My answer to the ambivalence and sadness that filled my soul was to work harder at church and home, to compulsively serve, to read more of my Bible, and to listen to as many tapes of great Bible teachers as I could get my hands son. The extra activity helped for awhile, getting me through some tough days and sleepless nights. However, now that I look back on it, I realize I was wearing a "good girl" mask that was hiding the real me--the scared wounded child living inside who felt invisible, the young wife plagued with a mountain-sized insecurity, the young mom who was struggling with a deep sea of inadequacy, the woman with a core of shame that came from a past of abuse, and an eating disorder that had at its core control that was so out of control that it scares me to even think about it now.

Long after I left that church I still carried my work-hard mentality with me. If I had a conflict with someone at church, I worked extra hard to overcome it and win the person over. When some one seemed displeased with a job I did, I took the person's opinion as gospel and worked even harder to rectify it even when I didn't know what it was I was to rectify. When guilt followed my sinful actions, I confessed it over and over and over and then white knuckled it so that I didn't mess up again, which only seemed to lead to more failure. When the monster called shame grew so big it took a hold of my heart in a vice grip, I worked harder to live down the shame of being too much and not enough at the same time. On days I didn't feel pretty enough or thought I ate a bite too much, I wrote out another diet plan and set a longer course to run the next morn. On the days I felt overlooked and ignored, I tried harder, cleaned more, smiled bigger, all in attempt to get someone to notice I existed.  To be honest, completely honest, I was totally physically and spiritually exhausted. I was too tired to feel and became emotionally numb.  It was like being a walking dead person.

All the while the sermons and advice of our former pastor rolled around in my head never landing in my heart. Especially the verses from Colossians 2:6-7,  "Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in Him, rooted and built up in Him and established in the faith just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving."

 

After I entered the world of counseling, one of the counselors gave me a book and asked me to look it over and to let her know what I thought. The next week I let her know I liked the book and I apologized for not finishing the book. She laughed and smiled and informed me we were going to work through the book at a much slower rate and process it over a period of time. Around that time I also went to a women's retreat where we were asked to spend some time reflecting on a short passage of Scripture. We were to read it, observe it, chew on it, ask God questions about it, and then ponder what difference those truths made in our lives. For over an hour I sat in silence with the verses as instructed. All of a sudden I felt the Martha in me take a nap and the Mary in me come fully alive. I came away from that quiet hour with the sense that God enjoyed spending time with His people, that He enjoyed spending time with me. I quit trying to read the Bible rapid speed and began to think more about what I read. I wrestled with the truths in prayer through out the day.  I began writing more and all of a sudden new-to-me truths just seemed to pop out of  the familiar Words like never before. Those words that were so familiar to me that I had been glossing over them, contained truth that I was again finding exciting and impactful.

During the time I spent in counseling I was also taught the art of becoming more self aware, which I found to be the way out of the self-centeredness that I hated so much. And as I read the Word I began to not only asked the "who, what, where, how, and why" questions of the Word,  I also began to ask them of myself in regard to what I read. I began to notice my thoughts and my emotional reactions to what I read. If I wanted to race by a passage, I became curious about why I was avoiding it. If my heart quickened, I would pause and take note of why I felt excited about it. If I felt shame I took time to discern why and if I was looking at it as a Pharisee or a graced believer. If I felt convicted by something I read, I examined my life and my heart and put into place a plan to overcome revealed sin. I found that when I felt convicted, I felt a sense of being deeply loved and I knew that conviction  was from God, not the condemnation of the enemy. When I felt pervading toxic shame, old tapes were playing in my head that were based on human words, lies, or distorted teachings of the Word. If I had a negative thought ("That might be true for others, but not for me") or a disbelieving thought ("Like that will ever happen!")  run through my head, I paid attention to it to try to understand why I didn't believe what I read that day. It gave me the chance to identify areas of unbelief and the unresolved pain underneath. I guess in essence, I no longer wanted a shallow belief, I wanted the Word to permeate into the deepest parts of my heart where real transformation takes place. 

I also began to notice what I felt when I read. That felt risky because many of the messages I had gotten in church about feelings were that they could not be trusted and should be ignored. Yet, when I listened to the messages of the feelings as I read the Word, I gained so much more. For example, when I read about the woman at the well, I noticed I felt judgmental because I figured she was either a runner or just didn't try hard enough. I confessed it and then I sat in the story for awhile. As I sat in the story, I researched the culture that she lived in and I grew sad. She had gone through five very public divorces, experiencing powerlessness of being in a culture that did not value its women. She got water at a time of day that indicated an avoidance of others so she was alone and lonely. At first glance I was confused by the Lord's questions, and the enemy whispered in my ear, "See how He toys with her?" But as I meditated on the passage it became obvious that Jesus cared less about her divorces than He did her unhealed heartache and her unsatisfied thirst for love. That was something I could relate to. As I read through story after story slowly I began to see just how gently and lovingly God dealt with sinners like me and how He dealt with people in pain. Sometimes stories would trigger some hurt in me that was similar to theirs and I would allow it to surface and found the Lord faithful to heal it. As I read about attitudes of those who followed, I found if I took the time to process it was often like looking in a mirror. In my self awareness I could identify with their impulsive actions, their insecurities, their sinfulness, and their clamoring for love, acceptance, and power.  I began to recognize the "good-girl" mask as being a fleshly bondage that needed to go. It kept me from seeing the truth about myself and sometimes the truth about others and about God. It kept me from acknowledging internal sins and the idols of my heart. It kept me from accepting my humanness, kept me from fully adoring my God, and kept me from resting fully in His grace.

So, for the many years I have been away from my "home church" I have slowly and surly been learning to apply what I was originally taught. Ironically, I am finding that so many of the answers to life's problems and painful emotions were taught faithfully to me long ago. But until I was invited to remove the good girl mask in the counseling office, I said I believed one way, but lived another out of fear and misunderstanding.

I really wish I could have one more conversation with the pastor who told me, "Just as you received Jesus, you live in HIM--by faith." I would love for him to see the joy and the freedom I have found in giving up working for God's love and acceptance--two things that I already possessed. I would love for him to see the woman who has become more comfortable outside of the mask, living more honestly and truthfully. I would love for him to see me resting in grace, not groveling in shame. I wish he could see me living free. He would be thrilled to know I finally get that the Christian life isn't working towards perfection, it is trusting God to be who He says He is, and that I am who He says I am in relationship to Him. It isn't about a pulling myself up by the boot straps and trying harder and harder and harder, it is about resting in Him, receiving His grace, and allowing His presence and His goodness to fill this God-thirsty heart with His love and His acceptance. It's about resting in His presence and letting Him transform my selfish heart into a loving heart that beats in tune with His--there I feel fully alive, I more easily trust Him, and my desires, decisions, reactions, and actions all fall into place. Those things flowing out of my relationship with Him promote life, give me health, foster love, and fill me with an abundance of joy--joy that flows naturally into an attitude of thanksgiving that attracts others to Him. I would love to tell him how good it feels to be walking by faith and no longer walking dead. I bet He's probably telling Jesus, "It's about time she got it! We told her that for years!" 

God's Perspective--An Easter Post

As I read the gospels, I imagine I am an observer of the stories being played out. When I do this, I realize the disciples were limited in their knowledge of the significance of the events they were observing.  As the disciples walked and talked with Jesus, they were human who were not omniscient. They understood only from what they observed and what their human finite minds could grasp. In the short time span they were with Jesus, they saw Him perform powerful miracles--the blind received sight, the deaf were able to hear, lepers had their skin made new, and the dead were raised to life. In addition, a bleeding woman was healed by touching His hem, a legion of demons was cast out by a spoken command, and common water was turned into extravagant wine. Because of Him, crowds were fed on a couple of fishes and a few loaves of bread with baskets heaped full of the leftovers. His disciples also saw Him walk on water, speak with such authority that the seas and the winds obeyed, and cast nets at His bidding into an empty sea and saw them fill to the brim until the nets broke.

The disciples also heard Him speak many sermons, some of which were filled with hope and encouragement. Some sermons explained deep theological concepts and others contained prophesies about the future. Some were strong, assertive confrontations aimed at the Pharisees who enslaved people with their do's and don'ts and others contained blessings spoken over the hearers. All heard Him claim to be both God and man and His actions certainly verify that truth.

During what would be His last week on earth, He entered the city riding on a donkey as people waved palm branches and shouted Hosanna--an entrance certainly fitting for the upcoming King. But soon things began to unfold in ways the disciples weren't expecting. They had the Passover Meal with Him. He picked up one of the symbolic loaves of bread and He broke it, saying it was His body broken for them and then He took one of the cups, saying the wine in it represented His blood that would be shed for them--words contradicting a coming Kingdom. Then the Master, The Messiah, The Son of God, The Son of Man, washed their feet, showing by example the leaders He called them to be.

Then there was the late night visit to the Garden with a few close friends. There He prayed so fervently and was so full of ambivalence that He began to sweat drops of sweat tinged with blood. And, His friends slept as anguish filled His soul. He prayed and prayed and prayed, asking His Father to remove the cup of suffering, while at the same time proclaiming His father's will be done.

Soon after He prayed He was arrested, tried, flogged, dressed in purple, and crowned with a crown of thorns--the very thorns that symbolized the curse. The disciples had to wonder in those moments what had happened to the power He had shown before. His country men rejected Him and they yelled for Pilate to crucify Him. Betrayed by a friend, denied by another, and deserted by those who had loved Him best.

The same God-man who had commanded the seas to calm, the demons to leave, diseases to flee, was hung on a cross. The long awaited Messiah hung between heaven and earth and the sky grew dark. As He breathed His last breath, the curtain of the temple was torn clean in two, leaving nothing between sinful man and a Holy God. How I wonder if they understood the significance of that or if in the moment they feared it meant God was angry with them and was departing from their midst. What did they think as the earth shook, as rocks split, and as tombs, once sealed, were open wide?

All seemed hopeless as the Messiah was laid to rest. Dark were the days that followed as His disciples were filled with grief, disappointment, and shame. No Kingdom came. No Messiah reigned. No Teacher remained to teach, so back to their fishing they went.

What had happened to the man whose words alone conveyed power enough that the universe came to be, that diseases fled, that dead bodies rose, that demons pleaded and obeyed? What happened to the man who was courageous enough to speak strong truth that tickled the self-righteous pride of the  Pharisees? It seemed as if the disciples hope for a messianic kingdom died as they laid Him in the tomb, struggling with their own failures, grieving their unmet expectations, and their hope for freedom so far away.

Then three days later, the tomb was found open and empty except for His grave clothes. The risen Savior began to appear to those He called His own. He called His disciples back to the work He wanted them to do. They didn't understand during those bleak hours when their hope ran low--the hours that Jesus hung suspended between heaven and earth--that the greatest victory was in the making. That was the moment the sinless God-man took our sin in His body--every sin imaginable--the lies, the murders, the adultery, the pride, the hatred, the gossip, the gluttony, the acts of violence, the sexual perversion, the unbelief, the withholding of love, and the hiding. And as our sin was taken He gave us His righteousness in its place, reconciling us forever to God--the God who created us, the God who loved us, and the God who laid down His life for us.

I don't think the disciples understood in the moment the full significance of the cross--and I am not sure that we do either. The dark hours belied the fact that the love of God was being poured out on mankind as Jesus bore our sin in His body. In the darkness of that day the disciples didn't see that the righteousness of God came face to face with the sinfulness of man. They didn't see that their was a spiritual battle waging in the background and the enemy was being completely, forever defeated and that the curse was finally lifted and man could be set free. They didn't have the knowledge to see that in Jesus' death they would be given life--spiritual life--life that would transform them and allow them to overcome evil with good. 

I love that many churches revisit the passion of the cross through Good Friday services. For it is in remembering the pain of the cross that we are reminded of the deep love of God. It is in remembering the Lord's death that we realize again and again that the grace He extends daily to us didn't come cheap. The grace that is free to us cost God the price of His Son--the Son in whom He was well pleased, the Son whom He loved, the Son who by His own choice was obedient to the death on the cross.

I hope I never forget that at the time the world seemed most hopeless, irrevocable hope was being birthed and the darkest times are those times when God's light shines the brightest. From a human perspective things can look bleak, but our God is the God of the resurrection power. When life seems hopeless and confusing from our vantage point, God sees it from the cross and the open grave and He uses those things to bring about His perfect will. A God who loves so radically is surely a God we can trust.       

Coming Out of Hiding

Hebrews 11:6

"And without faith it is impossible to please him,

for whoever would draw near to God must believe that He is

and that He rewards those who seek Him." 

A counselor friend recently suggested I watch a You Tube video called "Two Faced Two Roads Message. I loved John Lynch's message. It caused me to think back on my spiritual journey. Sometime early in childhood I became interested in God and asked questions about him--Who is He? Where does He live? Is He is a girl or boy? Okay questions for a curious three year old. Around that same time I was fast becoming a perfectionist because I believed I had to be very good and please others to be loved. When I got old enough to go to church on my own I carried that thinking over into my personal theology. I thought early on I had to be good and as Lynch said, I had to do more good than bad to be accepted into God's family. If you asked me if I believed that I would have said no, but my life and words indicated I did. At some point I attended an evangelistic church and said I wanted to be saved and I asked Jesus into my heart as they suggested. 

I don't remember what I learned about God in Sunday School and Church as a child. I may have had great pastors and teachers and taken what they said and skewed it with my childish black-white thinking. Or I may have had some teaching that helped mold my skewed thinking. Regardless of which was true, I continued to develop a people-pleasing, God-pleasing mentality that plagued me for years. As a teen I tried so hard to be good. I did well in school, participated in every curricular activity there was, worked part time, and didn't hang out with the party crowd. I avoided drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, and premarital sex. I even took it on myself to confront family members on things like racism and cursing. I spent a lot of time and energy trying to please God and my family. 

When I look back at those high school years, I notice interesting things. First, I had a very skewed view of God and His love. He says in His Word that He created us and He loves us. At the time I had this view that He loved me because he had to love me, but that did not equate into Him delighting in me as a daughter and wanting to spend time with me. I viewed Him as a distant God  waiting to zap me when I failed and as One who was bothered by me coming to Him in prayer. I went to churches that believed once saved always saved, but every time I so much as thought of a cuss word, fought with my siblings, disrespected my parents, or hurt someone with my words or my actions, I would confess it and ask Jesus into my life again and again, hoping this would be the time it would make me pleasing to God. I spent a lot of my time and energy trying please Him, because I believed it was in the pleasing I would find love and acceptance.  

Second I lived in a constant state of fear. One day I was going out the door to run an errand for my mom. The wind was blowing hard and it caught the door and slammed it on my hand. I screamed and let out a curse word in front of my mom who was standing directly in front of me. I not only expected her to slap me, I expected God to  destroy me. I looked so terrified, my mom started laughing, not understanding the fear coursing through my body, as I waited for God to slam me to the ground. That is probably the first case of spiritual PTSD recorded! 

Third, because I viewed God as distant and judgmental, I hid behind a good-girl mask, trying  to cover what was inside--so dirty, so deeply flawed, so incredibly needy, and sinful to the core. I even tried to take control of what felt out of control by over controlling food and weight until I nearly destroyed my body. I woke up early seven days a week and stayed up late exercising, studying, and going over things in my mind. No wonder I was bone tired and fell into bed, at times crying for hours until sleep would overtake me.  

A few years later my husband and I attended a church in Mississippi we consider our home church. I sat down with the pastor when he began teaching out of the book of Revelation, because I wanted to find out how to be ready for Christ's return. He had me read a book about end times, Come Lord  Jesus, that spoke of Jesus and His grace that offered such hope. We met again and the pastor talked to me about salvation through faith and the grace that was offered. At some point I made peace with salvation and understood it and haven't doubted it since. I wish that I could say that that ended the struggle with my perfectionism, but it didn't. I still hid some things from church people--things like the eating disorder that so often raised its ugly head, selfishness that showed itself when I want my way, jealousy that rose up when I see another woman who seems to trust God so easily, a judgmental spirit that judges another because the log in my own eye is so hard to take out, ugly thoughts that float through my head of their own accord, my history of sexual abuse and depression that carries such stigma in the church, an accident in high school that forever changed me, my imperfect marriage, and five precious kids that were full of energy, pranks, and bouts of rebellion which I now look back on fondly, and all sorts of feelings I was told good Christians don't feel. All that hiding and what I longed for most was to be known and to be loved for me, what ever that might be. I tried so hard to please, I had become a mixture of the people I respected and didn't even know who I was.  

After listening to Lynch's message, I think what bothered me the most is that living like that was saying something about God and that something was not true!. The way I was living said God was a hard task master whose standard was impossible to keep, making it impossible to please Him. It also said that God didn't want to spend time with me until I was perfect, and anybody who knows me well knows I am not that. A distant God indicates He doesn't want to be bothered by His children. That view is so the opposite of the Biblical view of God and the view of God that I now embrace.  

God began to chisel away at my tendency to hide. First, when my oldest child climbed out of bed after a nap and came pattering down the hall and peaked around the corner, I felt this overwhelming love flood my soul. I held my arms out and he ran into them, both of us laughing with delight. God impressed upon my heart that is the way He reacts when we approach him. That felt so good and it fed my desire to meet with Him early in the morning before the kids woke up. 

Second, God put a young youth pastor and his wife in my life who believed in transparency. I don't remember how many times I heard him tell the group, "You are just giving me a church answer! Let's get real!" One night he had asked us to stand if we wanted to make a specific commitment. I told him later I was afraid to stand because I knew I would fail. He smiled and said, "Welcome to the human race!" Not long after that, I met with his wife and another sweet lady for a prayer session. For the first time, I experienced deep prayer and transparency. I was real with them and them with me. I walked away seeing them even more beautiful than before. The person they "liked" was the real me.

Sadly, I bumped into others who said or did things that brought my old way of thinking back and I would put the mask of perfection back on. It was safer and even expected. Eventually I entered a long term counseling relationship with a Christian therapist. The first couple of years as I began to talk at a deeper level and found safety I found the courage to take the mask off more and more often. There I not only dealt with the hidden pain of my past, but I also began to look at the deeper parts of my heart--the parts I was afraid to face because they belied the good girl image. After a really rough conflict with another person, I remember processing with the counselor and she asked me what I felt. I whispered my answer, hoping not to be heard. "I think I hate her." She didn't turn away, scold me, or throw Bible verses at me. She looked at me with compassion and gently smiled. I think I followed it by saying I wondered what God must think of me now. She pointed out the truth. The truth was that He knew all along, and now that it was in the light where it could be changed. I could grow closer to Him because I was honest. I was able to taste grace because I admitted what I thought I could never say. I realized that telling God the truth in itself is an act of faith. Telling Him about my ugly thoughts, frustrations, and doubts shows I believe His blood is enough to cover my sin. Telling Him that I struggle to forgive when someone keeps wounding me shows I have believe He will help me get there. Telling Him my desire to be a grace giver is tainted by fear shows I am trusting Him to be my safety and courage. Telling Him my heart feels dry and craves intimacy shows I believe He will fill me to the brim. Telling Him about my failures to love shows I believe He will change me, bit by bit until what I know to be true is reflected in my life. 

I wish that every church was as safe as that counselor's office. I wish that men, women, and youth could share their struggles honestly and find love and acceptance I found while sharing my sinful parts. I wish they could share their deepest struggle with pornography, with lying, with drugs and alcohol, with fear, with depression, with broken relationships, with failures to love, with unresolved conflicts, and with doubts and be met with eyes that show acceptance and compassion rather than eyes turning away, rejecting the part of them of which they are most ashamed or eyes that roll in judgment and tongues that spout verses wielded to wound, not to heal.   

The closer I've become to God, the less I worry about what other's think and that is freeing. Some people like me, some hate me, and some don't think enough about me to decide one way or another. And I know some people who just don't know what to do with me, especially when I get real. That's okay, because this prodigal is home in grace and grace is where I plan to stay and grace is only experienced in the real!  

Had I known all that I know now when my kids were small. I would have parented differently. I would make sure they know I love them unconditionally and there is nothing that they can do to make me love them less-- not bad grades, not lies, not tears, not words spoken in anger, not disrespectful body language, not arguments with siblings, not outward acts of rebellion, not sneaking around--none of which can melt this mama's love. I would make sure they didn't have to do anything to please me, just learn to trust me and my love. If they learned that , then everything else would have fallen into place. I would have also told them God has captured my heart with His grace and that it's theirs for the taking by faith. I would have made sure they understood they didn't have to spend a life time trying to do things and hiding who they are living in a messy fallen world attempting to please God. All that needed to be done was done by Christ on the Cross, just believe!

"For without faith it is impossible to please God!" It didn't say without perfection. It didn't say without good works. It didn't say without going to church twenty times a week. It didn't say without doing penance. It didn't say without participating in visitation every week. It didn't say without being involved in every ministry advertised at church. Please, don't get me wrong, I love ministry and everyone is gifted for it. But doing ministry to please God or people results in us doing things for which we aren't gifted or called to do. Serving from a transparent heart filled with the love and the acceptance that God gives is refreshing and fulfilling, not draining. Can I encourage you to do some self examination to determine if you are living to please God or if you are trusting Him and basking in His grace? The cross not only makes the way of salvation, it allows us to remove masks to come out of hiding, allowing beautiful messy selves to be known. For under all the messiness is the image bearer He created us to be. Removing masks allows us to be children after His own heart--children known by the grace they give. 

This Life of Messy Faith--Thoughts from Chapter 4 of Esther

A few weeks ago I mentioned our church is going through the book of Esther. This last Sunday's sermon on Esther Chapter 4 was both powerful and practical. I encourage you to listen to it at www.riverlakeschurch.org.

In this chapter Esther has become queen and her guardian, Mordecai, has refused to bow down to Haman who was second in command to the king. At this time Mordecai had chosen to make it known that his reason for not bowing was because he was a Jew. Haman, enraged, got the king to issue a  edict declaring an appointed day would be execution day for all the Jews in the land. Letters were sent to all governors in the land in the King's name, stamped with the king's seal, making the edict an irrevocable law. Mordecai hears of the law and puts on sack cloth and ashes and sits at the palace gate grieving loudly. Other Jews hearing the decree  begin to fast, grieve, and lament along with him. The people in Esther's court let her know about Mordecai's actions and she sends a servant to find out why he's grieving. Mordecai lets her know of the plan Haman connived and he entreated her to approach the king and plead for the lives of her people. She lets Mordecai know she's not been summoned by the king and that approaching him without being summoned could put her life at risk if he chose not to find favor with her.

I love Mordecai's response to Esther. He warns her that as a Jew she, too, is in danger and not exempt from the edict. He tells her if she chooses not to approach the king he is confident that relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from somewhere else. But then he poses to her the possibility that she may have been made queen for this very purpose. Her life in danger no matter what she chose to do. I imagine her fear grew as she realizes there is no safe option for her. She has come face to face with one of those life defining events that has the potential to alter the course of her life and the lives of many others as well. She considers his request and delivers some requests of her own. She asks those mourning to fast three days along with her and her ladies. Then she would approach the king ending her message with, "...if I perish, I perish!"

Life defining moments can come suddenly and instantaneously. Some examples of this type of defining moments could be the temptations we face daily. For some it might be the temptation to use pornography. For addicts it might be the temptation to take a drink. It might be the temptation to commit adultery, to lie on taxes, to fudge data on a research projects, or skim money off the company books. It might be the temptation to say harsh words that do irreparable damage to relationships.

Defining moments can also come in the form of choices. Do we move or do we stay? Do I take this job or that job?  Do I attend a local college or one far away? Do we attend the neighborhood church or the one across town? Do we go on the mission field or stay on the home field? Do I foster this friendship or look for a different one?

Defining moments can also be life events that have huge impacts upon our lives. They might be a natural disasters. They might be fires or accidents that cause injuries that alter our lives either for a season or for a life time. They might be illnesses like cancer, rheumatoid arthritis, or Epstein Bar that leave us exhausted to the core. They might be the death of people we love or relationships ending in conflict or an unexpected divorce. They might be acts of abuse or violence perpetrated against us, causing emotional pain, PTSD, skewed thinking, and a hampered ability to trust or ability to connect at a heart level. They might be the problems of dealing with a special needs child who has autism or learning disabilities.

Some defining moments may alter our lives in such away that they present ongoing defining moments. For example, parents whose children are born with heart defects and have to face untold surgeries and the continuous monitoring of their children. Some come in the form of injuries that caused chronic pain that brings with it depression and frustration of living with chronic issues. Some come in the form of fertility issues and all the questions that come with that. Some are those living with family members who suffer with Alzheimer. Some moments come in the form of jobs lost or messy, broken relationships that are full of temptations and frustrations.

When we look at the defining moment that Esther found herself facing we can see it forced her to define her identity, expose what she believed both of which drove her choice to act. Originally Mordecai had told Esther wasn't to reveal her identity as a Jew. Now she was face to face with the decision to make known her true identity as a Jew or not. I can't help but wonder if those believers brutally murdered by ISIS wrestled with the same questions Esther did.

As believers, every time we face defining moments and fail, it is because we forget in the moment who we are as God's children--beloved, set apart, empowered, and gifted. I serve in a ministry that ministers to wounded women who have long defined themselves by what others have said and done to them or by what the enemy has whispered in their ear in the aftermath--you know those ugly lies that paralyze and shame--lies like stupid, ugly, invisible, unloved, unlovable, too much, not enough, and unworthy. Even though most finish our groups embracing their true identity in Christ, they continue to face defining moments only to have old messages resurface in their mind forcing them to choose again and again to believe the truth of who they really are in Him. Sadly, we sometimes make choices to hide our identities. I remember in college I played down my faith, afraid a guy wouldn't like me if he knew I was a believer. That choice burned guilt so hot in my soul that I soon repented, beginning to be more open about my true identity. If we could grasp the concept of identity, it would govern many of our decisions and our actions, especially when the flesh is in a raging battle with the spirit within who longs to do good. 

Mordecai and Esther also had to also come to terms with what they believe about God. Did they believe He was good? Did they believe He was truly Israel's redeemer and their salvation? Did they believe He had a sovereign plan for their lives in life or in death? Did they believe that it mattered to God what they chose to do? Did they believe His promise to preserve their nation?

We, too, face those same kinds of decisions. Parents who bury children have to come to terms with what they really believe about God. Is there really an afterlife? Is God really good? Does He really care about their pain? Can He really work this horrible situation and this devastation to their good?

Those who experience natural disasters will have to wrestle with their beliefs about God who allows widespread destruction as they pick through the remains of the home that the earth shook into a rubble or as they remember the children snatched from arms by a tsunami's rage. A woman who has begun to have flashbacks of childhood sexual abuse will wrestle long and hard with who God is as  she is plagued by the memory of praying for safety only to be victimized again. She will have to decide at some point if she can believe God is good and trustworthy as she grapples with His sovereignty in allowing such evil to be perpetrated against innocent children.

The defining moment that Esther faced also brought her face to face with fear. Some believe fear is sin, but I don't. It is a great emotion God gave to help us stay safe. Esther probably had a big dose of it pounding in her chest, making her hesitant to approach the king uninvited, knowing he had already banished one queen and she wasn't considered a mutually partner. It was in the choice Esther made to acknowledge her identity and believe God is who He says He is, that lead her to believe He should be glorified either by her life or by her death that gave her the courage to act. They fasted and prayed, and she came up with a wise plan. 

In looking back at my life defining moments I thought of the time a son was being wheeled into surgery after his spleen ruptured. I face the fear of possibly losing a child. I wrestled with my identify as a believer that night in the waiting room. Even with the crowd of family surrounding me, as a mother I felt totally alone. It was terrifying to realize there was nothing I could do to insure that I would get the outcome I so desperately wanted. There were  complications that kept him in ICU for ten or eleven days and then in the regular room for six. There were times I felt I couldn't handle any more thing and wondered if he could continue to fight his way back to health. But as I remembered my identity in Christ, I remembered that as alone as I felt, I was not alone! I wrestle with what I believed about God, knowing in my head He is good--but not fully trusting it in my heart. I had to decide if I really believed in His goodness down to the core of my being where my soul needed peace. For you see, I never doubted that He could heal, but for me it was a matter of seeing His goodness as our son dealt with pain, as the fluid collected around his heart, and the possibility of maybe another surgery after having been cut open wide already. The decision to remind myself of who I really am and to choose to trust God is truly good helped me to sit there and engage with my son all those long days and long nights without falling apart. Choosing to pray to God who held his life in balance gave me hope and strength when I had nothing left to give. During that time God allowed me to see my son through new eyes and it gave us sixteen days in close quarters to truly get to know each other. I gained a whole lot of respect for him as a young man facing some really tough, scary stuff. I grew compassion for other mothers and father's going though medical issues with their kids.

Another thing happened after hearing the sermon Sunday. My husband and I went out to eat. I noticed a couple in the restaurant. He was sitting beside her and feeding her. She didn't appear to be very cognizant of her surroundings, but he was so very attentive and so kind to her. When they left, he helped her stand and then took her hands in his and he walked backwards so that she could walk forward. They were face to face as she took small shuffling steps. He was looking directly into her eyes and smiling kindly at her the whole times, ignoring all the commotion of the busy place. They would go about five or six steps and then he would taker her into his arms and embrace her sweetly and then after a moment or two they would resume the shuffle. They did this repeatedly. It took them twenty minutes to get to their car. Whatever has caused her to be in the state she is in had to be a huge defining moment for them as a couple. Then every day that he cares for her, he will be faced with defining moment after defining moment. He can choose to love with acceptance, with patience, with kindness, and with endurance even when she can't give respond in kind or he can get angry over the circumstances and choose to be impatient and bitter. In watching him treat her with tenderness, I had the feeling that I was on sacred ground and was seeing him live out his true identity--his identity as a man, as a husband, and as a believer. I had the feeling I was given the privilege of seeing Jesus loving and encouraging her through her spouse. "Come on, Sweetie, just take one more step." And the significance was that it was one more step with Him!

Sometimes, defining moments are small, but, oh, they have the potential to impact life in huge ways because we have a huge God! I think most people face those "small" moments in marriage, especially after kids come, when life gets busy, when jobs get demanding, when energy runs low, when neglect of relationships happens, and when the distance between spouses is so great it stirs up loneliness that cuts to the soul allowing seeds of bitterness to be implanted. Its in these time when each longs to be seen and to be heard that hope runs low and we tend to retreat to protect our hearts. That is when the "small" defining moments come. We know those moments--the moments when God tugs at our heart to be the first to reach out and take a hand, to refill a mate's cup, or to speak a sentence of affirmation to a heart hurting as much as our own. It is in that moment when everything in us wants to wait for the other to move first to save face that humility can help us push past the fear of being hurt again. What if its in the humility and the choosing to be the first to move one tiny degree closer to the one we miss that changes everything around? What if its that hesitant touch, that thirst offering, or that kindness spoken that stirs the last ember of love so it can grow and flourish again? What if we learn to recognize that the temptation to leave is a life defining moment that gives us a chance to remember who we are as believers, as spouses, as moms or dads, or as friends? What if that moment gives us an opportunity to truly remember who God is and trust His ability to write redemption stories? What if this small act gives us a chance to move our knowledge of God from head to heart, giving us both the will and the power to act? What if its in that moment that we snatch the victory from the enemy seeking to destroy our souls and prove to ourselves and to the world that God redeems the messiest of the messes.

I would love for you to share about some of your defining moments in the comments here or on our Facebook page. Can you see how those defining moments have impacted your life, how they have brought you face to face with your belief and maybe even your unbelief? How different our stories might be if we each grab on to this concept of defining moments bringing us face to face with our identity, what we believe, and our choices.

The View from Down Here

"For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face.

Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known."

1 Corinthians 13:12

 

Our church just started a series on the book of Esther called, Messy Faith, Finding our Story in Esther. The sermon this week left me thinking about the concept of "messy faith." Now the book of  about all the different reasons a life of faith is so messy. The book of Esther deals with believers living in an unbelieving world much like Daniel and his friends did. From the first reading of the book, I surmised that Esther and Mordecai handled living in a foreign culture very differently than Daniel and friends. As we work through the book I am sure I will write about what I am learning from the series. But mostly this week I just thought about the concept of "messy faith." It is an interesting term and I more than like will use it a bit differently than our pastor is using it in his series.

When I was a child, I was invited to church by friends and I went. I somehow developed this picture that if one did everything good (which I know now is impossible) God would be pleased and my life would be blessed and everything would make sense. Though I came to understand my sinfulness, Christ payment for sin, God's grace, and redemption through faith, I still had some crazy misconceptions of the faith walk and they left me feeling shame to the point I believed I was a second class citizen in the body of Christ. Over the course of time, those misconceptions have been corrected, which I thought would make the Christian life less messy. But it hasn't! There are several reasons for this.

First, this life we live is messy because we, as believers, are regenerated beings indwelt by the Holy spirit living in fleshly bodies that still have the propensity to sin. The Spirit reveals and convicts us of sin at its deepest level--the level of the heart. This means that we have an internal battle raging in us--a strong desire to sin and a strong desire to obey God and live worthy of our calling. The Bible says we can overcome those desires but it also uses words like "die to self" to show us it is not easy. Yet, often we are quick to judge each other when we are struggling.  Life is messy as the Spirit heightens our sensitivity to sin and causes us to sorrow over sin so we begin to recognize sin at the level of the heart--the sin that no one sees, but we know it well and we want to hide it.

The life of faith is also messy because there is an Enemy who has ultimately been defeated at the cross. Yet, he still slithers around seeking whom he can destroy. But right now his power has been reduced to lies and half truths which have the power of a whole lie. He is sneaky and he is persistent. He whispers the lies so often that they become second nature to us. That is when we fully believe them as truth and they become a part of our core system and remain a stronghold making faith messier than it needs to be. Then Satan can take a step back. Those lies run through our mind of their own accord like a broken record that keeps replaying and replaying. He smiles as he watches the lies destroy us and our relationships.

One of those lies for me was, "I am unlovable." Because I had that lie (and a few others), I didn't take good care of myself physically and lived in bondage to an eating disorder and unresolved emotional pain. I didn't have healthy boundaries and didn't speak truth in love to those wounding me. I didn't communicate my desires, needs, or expectations in relationships and found my self interpreting every action others took through the belief that I was unlovable. When I began to grasp that I was unconditionally, radically loved by God that lie began to dissipate and relational problems began to get better.

Another lie I developed was that I was invisible. This will sound weird to some, but to others it will resonate to the core of your being. When I was getting some counseling for an eating disorder my therapist asked me what word I would used to describe myself as a child. The word that I immediately came up with was invisible. I later prayed with a prayer director, who told me that she believed God wanted me to renounce something she had never heard of. It was the spirit of invisibility! We did so that day and within a week I came across the story of Hagar who was Sarah's handmaiden. She had been sent away and was crying in the wilderness. God came to her and spokes to her and she ascribed the name El Roi to Him, which means the God who sees. Then one year at a conference, I was feeling invisible. I saw a shirt I liked and would not ordinarily buy. My friends and my husband encouraged me to buy it and I wore it the next day. I had so many people compliment me that I was overwhelmed. I realized that because I believed I was invisible, I dressed in a way that no one noticed me. I sat and spoke so quietly--essentially making myself somewhat invisible to others.

Another reason a life of faith is messy is rgat a life of faith is a life of relationships. We are all messy beings and, yet, made to desire relationships with each other. We have wounds and this desire to protect our hearts from more pain rages with this desire for relationship--messiness in all of its glory. As humans we have the tendency to filter what we see, what we think, and what we hear through several lenses. The lens of past experiences, core beliefs, spiritual gifting, and past history with people. As humans, we are all growing and changing and at the same time we are filtering through years of baggage even when we try not to. Most of us don't look at our baggage and understand it as baggage. We have tendency in our wounding to develop cognitive distortions and we don't always see and interpret things accurately. We can make mountains out of mole hills. We can expect others to be all good or all bad instead of the blend of both they are, We can hold on to magical thinking and feel disappointed when it doesn't work out.

We also have a messy view of God. Children often learn about the unseen God by looking at the authority figures in their lives. If we had a fairly healthy home, we will have a fairly healthy view of God. If we grew up with parents who were perfectionists who harshly judged, we will more than like attribute those same characteristics to God and fail to see His love and His grace. We also may have had a pastor who had an inaccurate view of God whose preaching skewed our view. We have to constantly compare our view of God with the truth of His Word and have open discussions with other believers who have a strong faith.

Finally, we have a messy faith because we are human and have a very limited view of spiritual things from down here. Psalm 139:16 tells us, "...in your book were written, every one of them the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them." There is nothing in our lives that surprises God, but there is a whole lot in our lives that shocks the heck out of us. That is because we can't see all that God sees. We can't see how the hard we experience now will be worked for our good and for His glory. There are several Biblical examples of what I am trying to say. I know if I put myself  Sarah's shoes, I would have felt like God was messing with me and I would have become very angry, First, she Abe lived in a culture where people worshiped fertility gods and they were struggling with infertility. God calls them out and promises them a child. They wait and they wait and they age well past the normal age of conception. Talk about feeling invisible and teased by the God of the universe. From the view from here they couldn't see what God was doing. Then at the right time--the time when it would truly take a miracle God raised their bodies to conceive showing Himself to be the one true God of life.

Then there is Daniel, who was thrown into the lion's den because of His faith and his friends who were thrown into a fiery furnace. Remember, they were faithful men living in a Godless culture, They could only see what you and I could see. Yet, they chose to remain faithful, even though there were no guarantees. And God, saved Daniel from hungry lions and his friends from fire. Some believers don't have their lives preserved like that. Hebrews 11 says that some remained faithful and died without having seen the fulfillment of their faith. Yet, God honors both in the hall of faith! I honestly don't know why He works one way one time and another at a different time. I do know from having been witness to 21 people slaughtered for their faith that the church is being stirred out of a dream state to live boldly for Christ.

Then there is Christ himself. What appeared to be the darkest day for his disciples and for mankind ended up being anything but. He came to earth to be the promised Messiah. His disciples had to have been confused by the events that followed the last supper. They didn't have any more insight into the events of their day than we do of ours and all of a sudden their fearless leader is washing their feet, praying so passionately He sweats blood, is succumbing to arrest, being tried illegally, and hanging on a cross as the sky darkens, ground shakes, and graves open. From their perspective that day, it looked like the Enemy won. but, we see it differently on Resurrection Day. The darkest time was when the greatest act of love was carried out and our sin was put on His body so He could impute His righteousness to us.

There are times when we look back we can see things from His view. One man from a former church shared his daughter left college for a year and moved in with him. He then lost a job and for almost a year he couldn't find one. He couldn't understand what God was doing until he later lost the daughter suddenly to illness. He had an extraordinary year with his daughter that he would never have had had he been working. What looked like a hardship was blessing.

Several years ago I went through a pretty rough time in ministry which eventually led me to a completely different type of ministry. I prayed while going through that time and felt unheard and invisible to God. But I wasn't. In the new ministry I wrote books that we use and many women here have found healing going through them. I have even had women from other places across the country contact me and tell me how much my writing has helped them heal and reconnect with God. Even this year, I have been writing a book that I have at times doubted I was to write. Repeatedly I have had people encourage me in one way or another to continue writing. About a week ago, I was really struggling with it and ready to quit and a friend I haven't seen in awhile wrote me and said she didn't know why she was writing me the things she was. I knew! I wasn't sure about the book I was writing. I wasn't sure if the chapter I was writing was even supposed to be in the book and what she was sharing with me was the very thing with which I was wrestling and her letter helped me know I was to proceed. That I knew her long ago at a time that was painful for her and that she wrote me as I was writing was nothing either of us could see in the past or now, until it played out.

We do have some advantages over the people in the Bible. We have the advantage of seeing stories  sovereignly authored by God displayed in Scripture. Knowing this, we can begin to see how He works in people's lives take notes on how He is working in ours and in the lives of those we love. These written counts can encourage us when the view from down here looks bleak and hope wavers. The accounts can remind us that though our view from here is limited by finite minds, God's view isn't. We serve a God who pens our stories whose view is from the eternal and sees all from the beginning to the end. We serve a God who lovingly knits our good from what we perceive to be bad. We serve a God with a great big view.