Could those Words be Served with Grace and a Sprinkling of Salt?

"Let your speech always be gracious seasoned with salt,

so that you may know how you ought to answer each person."

Colossians 4:6



I was born with a very sensitive heart. As a result, harsh words had the tendency to deeply wound me. I still remember my mom trying to comfort me by telling me old sayings she thought would help me not be so sensitive. Two of the sayings that stick out in my mind are, "Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me," and "I am rubber and you are glue, what you say bounces off me and sticks to you." Sadly, I can remember my siblings and I passionately shouting the latter to each other as we spewed cruel words during childish arguments. Though my mom was well intentioned, I drew the conclusion that either Mom was wrong or something  was wrong with me  as  words continued to hurt this sensitive heart.

After I became a believer, I found the Bible had a lot to say about words. In his Epistle, James points out that man can control a wild horse with a small bridle and sailing ships with a tiny rudder, yet has little control over the small muscle we call tongue. If we're honest, we must admit James tells the truth when he says we have a tendency to bless God with our mouths while tearing down those He created.

Sometimes  biting words are direct, harsh, and judgmental. At times they are hidden behind false  masks of sweetness, sounding almost appropriate. However, they still carry a punch that tears at the heart and causes confusion, leaving one to wonder if she really heard what she heard.  Some words are left unspoken, leaving stone-cold silences and tense body language to  convey that we don't honor another enough to communicate with him or her.

Being believers didn't automatically solve the sin problem with the tongue. I've been verbally assaulted by just as many believers as nonbelievers and I've been guilty of verbally assaulting others. Sadly, the wounds of Christian brothers and sisters tend to be wounds that run deep and fester ugly. A part of the reason for this is that when people seek counsel at church for verbal wounds, they are shamed for having not forgiven. Yet forgiveness in itself doesn't erase the pain being caused  by  hurtful words. Forgiveness is often pushed because someone doesn't want to listen and validate another's pain, because someone doesn't like confrontation, or because someone doesn't like to teach a new believer about finding their worth in Christ. After all, dealing with patterns of sin is always painful and messy and convicting. So, it's easier to just rewound and silence the hurting.

As I've spent time doing research on the internet, I've looked at the comments following articles to see how people respond to what they read. When an article covers a Christian topic or a believer, the comments of many nonbelievers are brutal towards believers. I expected this. However, what I didn't expect was the hatefulness of comments left by people who claim to be believers. The Bible makes it clear that we should expect  nonbelievers to be hostile towards us. It also makes it clear that right now we aren't living in a Christian Kingdom. We're ambassadors in a fallen world, representing God to people who have no premise to understand us. If God's word is true, then we must expect persecution for speaking truth, for stating godly opinions, and for openly living  out faith in a world that lives from a fallen, "me" perspective.

I find myself wondering if we, as believers, have always been so harsh and unloving when we share our thoughts, opinions, and beliefs or have we become even more harsh and hateful in this electronic age. After all, with the internet we have a certain amount of anonymity that allows us to be brutal without accountability. On line we don't see the immediate impact of our words on another's face. It allows us to be more sarcastic, more harsh, and more judgmental towards people we don't know. It allows us to speak truth, without pulling the logs out of our own eyes and dealing with our own sin. I am afraid we believers often come across as pious, unloving people. 

I have also noticed that many believers are expressing frustration and anger that we are being criticized for expressing our opinions. I know in our country freedom of speech is supposed to be protected and we expect to be able to speak without being harassed. But we have to remember that as ambassadors our views will not be readily understood. More and more believers are complaining about being persecuted, and some people are definitely being persecuted. However, after reading some of the comments believers leave, I'm afraid that what some are claiming to be persecution is merely a backlash for ungodly words impulsively type during heated debates.

Several years ago when I was a volunteer youth leader, I gave a young lady a ride home. She had moved to California from the Bible belt and was such a sweet girl. I asked her how her day had gone and she began to tell me about a class discussion and the cruel things a young man had said to her because of the stand she had taken. I noticed that as she spoke tears began to roll down her face. I gently said, "What the student said to you, must have really hurt." She gently shook her head no and said, "These tears aren't for me! They are for him. He's so lost and doesn't even know it." I can't tell you how much her statement convicted me. She loved the guy with a godly love and she lovingly shared her faith in the face of his skepticism and disrespectful mocking. She was proactive, rather than reactive. She chose intentional words, not defensive ones.

Every time I read Colossians 4:6, I am reminded of my young friend. She was a beautiful blend of grace and salt that day. Her grace was exhibited by how she treated the people in the debate. Her grace was exhibited by her desire to look past their behavior to the fact that they didn't know God. Her grace was exhibited by her desire for them to hear the good news and accept Christ. Her grace was exhibited when she didn't back down from the conversation at school, willingly engaging even though she knew she would be ridiculed for her beliefs. Her grace was also evident in that even when others mistreated her she remained calm and nonjudgmental in her stance. Her ability to show grace under pressure stemmed from realistic, Bible-based expectations and an intimate understanding of the love and grace she herself had received from God.

My young friend's speech was also definitely seasoned with salt. The words she used were an offering of truth, a soul cleansing antiseptic. They were a an offering of words that had the potential to  preserve  lives. In addition, she was wisely sensitive to just how much salt her friends could  tolerate. Some people, like myself, salt anything, including apples, melons, and caramel. Others use salt sparingly. for them a little salt goes a long ways. She realized that was true of her friends. With some she could share a lot of "salt" at a time and with others, she had to give it in more sparing doses for it to be tolerated long enough to be accepted. My friend also didn't get upset because her classmates didn't agree with her, she knew it was the Holy Spirit's job to convict them and to change their hearts. Nor did she get angry or feel insecure when others didn't agree with her, she simply quietly grieved the hardness of their hearts and their rejection of the God she loved.

My friend only lived here for one year and I felt honored to have had her in my life. It was convicting to see someone half my age understand God's calling on her life. But it was even more convicting to see someone so young understand her role as a believer and understand the importance of speaking the truth in such a loving way that both grace and salt were evident. Her understanding of her classmates was proof she not only spoke the truth, but she gave them the respect due them as image bearers. She had also given them the respect of actively listening to their words, helping her to know how to respond in ways that had the potential to draw them to the Lord.   

To be honest, after that conversation with my young friend, I did some self reflection and had to do some confessing for the lack of control I had over my own tongue. I also learned from my young friend that I didn't have to take offense when someone calls me and other Christians hypocrites, ignorant fools, or judgmental bigots. I am not defined by their words. I am defined by what Christ did for me on the cross and what He has said of me in His Word. He has called me things like chosen, beloved, gracious, accepted, and gifted. When I believe these things I act out of who He defines me to be instead of my fleshly defensiveness. I know for myself that responding to my world with godly speech can only be done through the power of the Holy Spirit and it can only be done when my love for others is bigger than my human pride, bigger than my desire to win arguments, and bigger than my desire to have others tell I am right.

The way I look at it, as a child of the King of kings I am privileged! But, with that privilege comes great responsibility and one of those responsibilities is to relate and to communicate in loving ways no matter what the circumstances. Am I perfect at it? NO! But, I believe I am improving and it is truly my hearts desire. Oh, that the Lord would give me a bigger filter so that my words would always be gracious and seasoned with salt that I might know how to how to respond to each person God brings into my life.                                                            

For those Days We feel Invisible, Insignificant, and Inferior

Most of us who've attended church as children are familiar with the children's song ,"Zacchaeus the Wee Little Man." It is easy to understand why children like this Bible story (Luke 19:1-10). They can identify with being small in a world designed for big people. we felt frustrated because we didn't feel seen or because we couldn't see everything we wanted to see. Climbing a tree is something we could envision us doing to to see more. But this story isn't just for children, it is for us adults as well. It tells us a whole lot about our great God and it tells us a whole lot about ourselves.

Zacchaeus was a Jewish man who lived in the town of Jericho. He was of tiny stature and in his culture that meant he was often overlooked and looked down upon. In addition he had become a chief tax collector for the Roman government. His peers believed he was doing "dirty work" for the Roman government and treated him as if he were an enemy. In addition, most tax collectors became rich by taking extra taxes from people to keep for themselves. So, it was likely his peers believed he had been personally robbing them. For all of these reasons, it was likely that he was very unpopular in the Jewish community.

           

Zacchaeus had heard of Jesus, but he didn't know him personally. But, what he had heard about Him had piqued his curiosity, causing him to join the crowd when Jesus came to Jericho. But because of his stature, He couldn't see Him and no one in the crowd was willing to make room for him. So, he ran ahead of Jesus and climbed up in a tree and waited for Jesus to come to get a glimpse of Him. When Jesus came, He paused beneath Zacchaeus and he looked up and called him by name! It amazed Zacchaeus that Jesus knew his name and where he was perched before He had even looked up. Jesus invited Himself to Zacchaeus' home and he responded by coming down from the tree. 

Zacchaeus found in Christ a love and an acceptance that he was hungry for as a person well acquainted with rejection. In light of his reputation, few people would have made eye contact with him, fewer would have acknowledged his presence, and even fewer would have spent time in deep fellowship with him. They couldn't trust him. His quest for money left him very much alone. 

As he began to experience Christ's pure love, Zacchaeus realized all the wealth he had accumulated couldn't satisfy his heart hunger like Jesus could. As a result, he was changed from being a "thief" to being a "giver." He told Christ he would restore what he took fourfold! The crowd had criticized Jesus for spending time with Zacchaeus, but Christ did not respond to the criticism directly. Instead He told Zacchaeus, "This day salvation has come to this house, because this man, too, is a son of Abraham. For the Son of Man came to seek and to save what was lost."

What can we learn from this story about Zacchaeus? 

I think we can all relate  to him if we are really honest with ourselves. We feel small, insignificant, and overlooked. For many, that feeling began in childhood. Perhaps when Mom was busy, when she got on the phone, or when she was in a conversation and wasn't connecting to us, we clamored for her attention by interrupting, doing things we weren't supposed to do, starting fights with siblings, or anything else we could do to get her attention back on us.  

I came across a Michael Card song a few years ago called Underneath the Door. In the song he describes himself as little guy with stubbly little fingers who wanted so badly to get his Dad's attention. But his dad often closed himself off, hiding behind his office door. He would draw his dad pictures and push them under the door. Sometimes he simply would stick his fingers beneath the door as if to say, "This is me, its who I am."  He shared his story with someone and they pointed out to him that as an adult he was still that little boy wanting to be seen.*

We, too, often feel small and overlooked. We may smile at what we did as children to get attention, but we really are just grown up children doing similar more acceptable things. We may not be tax collectors, but I bet we have all sorts of other ways of dealing with those feelings of insignificance, insecurity, and inferiority. I bet we even have ways we deal with feeling unseen, ignored, unheard, overlooked, and any other feeling we felt when we were small. Some of us became hyper critical, shouting the faults of others. Some of us turn those feelings inward, beating ourselves up emotionally and sometimes physically. Some of us became perfectionists, never stopping to rest or to enjoy life, people, or His presence. Some of us  pursued wealth, fame, or popularity to find it is never enough to make us feel seen and heard. Some of became so independent that we denied the need of being seen, heard, or loved even though those are legitimate needs written carefully on our hearts by the Creator Himself. Some of us may have even stepped on others as we tried to climb to the top, only to find that we feel even smaller still.    

We can learn that God is a God who seeks the smallest. We don't have to climb trees, corporate ladders, become the favorite child, perform perfectly, or scale the tallest mountain. Christ sees us where we are, even in our sin, even while we were still enemies with Him. He even sees us even when others crowd us and over look us and despise us. 

Just as Jesus knew the wee little man by name, He knows us by name! He was the one who  ascribed significance to us because He chose to create us, to call us from the womb by name, to love us, to die for us, to reveal Himself to us, and to call us down from our self made trees we believe will give us the advantage. His great love looks past the visible sins as well as the ones we keep hidden. When He calls our name and invites us to know Him, we can either reject Him or we can embrace Him and His payment for sin. If we choose to embrace Him, He comes home to our hearts, radically changing our lives.  It is when we feel the most lost, the most unseen, the most unheard, and the most unredeemable, that Jesus calls our name. Those feelings were given to us to let us know we have needs--the need to be seen, the need to be known, and the need to be loved. Those needs and every other need we have were designed to drive us to Him who can meet them. 

Our significance is found in Christ and in the gifting He gives us to serve others. We want to be sure our own biases don't get in the way of our seeking and offering the love of Christ to sinners in need of a loving, life changing God who sees and knows names. The "tax collectors"--those we might view as enemies, those we might avoid seeing because we are angry, those we might overlook because their sin makes us uncomfortable, those we think beneath us are the very ones Christ may use us to be His voice calling another's name. As His skin representatives He desires for us to reach out to the lost, to fellowship with the invisible, and to disciple baby believers, looking past their pasts, envisioning what they can become in the hands of a holy, powerful God. We don't want to lose those trying to catch a glimpse of God because they remain invisible and unheard by us. We don't want to lose people because we have never given them the opportunity to live down a past because we prejudged them. In the light of the bigness of our God aren't we all  Zacchaeus's?

I praise God for the change in Zacchaeus. and I can't help but think Zacchaeus, the wee little man, walked a bit taller the day Jesus invited Himself to dinner. When those old feelings return and lies from my past cause me to shrink in shame, I can cling to that the truth that the Jesus who knew Zacchaeus' name also knows mine. Just like He sought Zacchaeus out, He is continually seeking me. Because He knows me, and has called me by name, I can square my shoulders, lift my head, and walk out the truth that I, too, have been changed from one who was seeking to see and to one who is seen to  and whose heart is full enough to give.  

Underneath the Door performed by Michael Card in the album Scribbling in the Sand: The Best of Michael Card

What is a Proper Response to Sin

I seldom watch reality TV, but this last week I had the opportunity to watch a marathon of 19 Kids and Counting. I had heard a lot about the show, so I watched it out of curiosity. The season involved a wedding, the birth of a grandbaby, and several other family milestones. I was fascinated by the wedding and the birth of the grandbaby. However, I felt unsettled by the parents doing marriage counseling for their daughter and her fiancée, but I ignored the feeling.Two days later, I saw breaking news stories about Josh and his admission to molesting five young girls. My heart sank.

I  spent a couple of days reading different articles and comments being posted. There was no middle ground on how people felt about the Dugger family. People were brutally hateful as they commented. Some defended Josh and his parent's with passion, lashing out at those who didn't. Some blasted Josh for his perpetrations, his parents for covering them up, the police for not arresting him, and the Dugger fans for remaining loyal. Some were angry that it's a hot topic, claiming all teenagers mess up or there are just bigger fish to fry. Some have used this as a place to complain about the number of children they have, the brand of Christianity they promote, and the fact that Josh's failure proves all believers are hypocrites. Some have even thrown in the racial card just for good measure.

As a survivor of childhood sexual abuse, I believe this is an important topic to discuss, but I doubt that the comments being left resolve this sinful sickness residing in the human race--a sickness found in the homes of believers and nonbelievers alike. It's a sickness that robs the most vulnerable of their innocence, their sense of their personhood, and their sense of being cherished, loved, and protected. It is a sickness that literally changes the human brain and how the body keeps itself safe. It even changes the core beliefs that define what we think and feel about God, people, and ourselves, all of which impact our actions, our reactions, the relationships that we survivors will or will not develop.

As a survivor you might have expected me to be enraged. But as I saw the story unfold, I was filled with sorrow and compassion for a family broken by sexual sin and shame. All of us need to realize our reactions to this story and others like it, say a more about our own hearts and what is going on in them than the people we are reading about. There should be righteous anger, sorrow, and compassion. However, if there are a strong emotions, we should be curious about why that is and figure it out instead of lashing out at others. 

For me the compassion and sorrow I first felt was for five little girls who woke up being touched inappropriately by someone who they would have expected to be a protector. They were no longer safe in their own beds, home, family, or bodies. My heart hurt for the one who took a big risk by telling and how well the girls deal with this, will in part be determined by how they were treated when they told. When they told, were they silenced? Were they believed? Were they blamed? Were they cared for? Were they comforted? Were they shamed? Were there boundaries put in place so they could feel safe at home, in their beds, and in their own bodies? Was there a safe place to land when they felt fearful, dirty, and ashamed because of what was done to them? Have they been allowed to continue talking about it or was the kind of forgiveness imposed supposed to forever silence the topic in the home?

The victims will deal with the pain of this betrayal on and off for the rest of their lives. I am concerned that because their parents were involved in the Gothard homeschool movement that they may have used Gothard's literature to handle the sexual abuse. His literature in itself is spiritually abusive. Sexual abuse impacts every part of our being because trauma alters the brain. He suggests victim figure out which part was damaged. Little children can't do this and won't have the capacity for years to uncover how abuse has impacted them. They are also asked questions like which part was damaged by the perpetrator and which part was damaged by their own guilt and their own bitterness? How would a child know the answers to those questions? Even more important Gothard had several people come forward, accusing him of inappropriate behavior. He may not have been the best resource to use to deal with this topic.

Even more sickening are the answers given to the question that most victims ask, "Why did God let this happen to me?" Gothard's answers are aimed at the victims--immodest dress, indecent exposure, being out from the protection of one's parents, and associating with evil people. In addition, victims are told that they sinned if they didn't tell. The impact that abuse has on the victims can make it impossible for them to speak (speechless terror). The fact that he did it while they slept and that they at times woke up to the abuse could have left the victims unsure of the reality of what they experienced, especially in a family system so strong on moral values. In addition, many victims feel dirty and shameful, and it is very hard to tell your parents something shameful has happened because of the fear of rejection. To try to feel safer, children assume the belief that they did something to cause the abuser to hurt them and that if they figure out what caused it they can prevent it. This distorted belief plays into their silence. The rest of the methods Gothard proposes I won't go into here, but they are too simplistic to be helpful. People need to understand the work of recovering from abuse happens in stages and isn't put to rest with a rushed agreement to forgive.    

I was overwhelmed with compassion for the parents whose hearts had to be broken by what happened to their daughters and by the fact it was at the hands of one of their sons. I am concerned by the fact that in homeschool families there is a lot of isolation (I know this, because I homeschooled) which limits the number of adults to whom a child could safely report abuse. In addition, I personally don't think something as serious as sexual abuse can be handled solely by a family. It is too easy in a family system for people to hide behind denial, dysfunctional beliefs (including religious ones), and shame. The parents, and in my opinion, the church should not have been given the right to choose Josh's treatment. It needed to be a non biased person with training in this particular area  who could help the family find the right treatment for both Josh and his victims who might have needed help at the time or might in the future. Those girls need their premarital counseling to deal with that issue from a person who understands the impact abuse can have on a marriage, not the mother and father whose simplistic view of it being that it is a test of real love casting out fear. The church should have reported the abuse to authorities and should have confronted Dad Dugger for choosing not to send his son to a treatment center, but to a friend instead. There are good treatment centers and with good counsel they could have found good help that would not have compromised the Scriptures.   

I was also overwhelmed for Josh who confessed the abuse and a struggle with pornography. I can't imagine the pain, guilt, and shame he experienced as he did that in the family and religious system in which he was brought up. I wish he had felt safe enough to be real with someone about his ongoing struggle with pornography as most abusers use it and it may have played a role into his choice to abuse. He has said he didn't tell his parents about the pornography because he was afraid of rejection and because of pride. I can relate to that! How many times I've worn masks rather than admit my imperfections, my fears, my feelings, or my sin because of the fear of rejection. I wish his parent's had gotten him help the first time it came to light so he wouldn't have to deal with multiple failures and multiple victims and the shame that entails. The cover didn't help him.

Some of the reading I came across included a talk given by one of his family members. They cited that in addition to his struggle with pornography he believed he was made vulnerable because he was babysitting younger siblings, changing diapers, and having younger siblings who showed immodest behavior in the home after baths, and by a lack of sexual education. I struggle a bit with the part about a young child running naked or wrapped in a towel after a bath being considered immodest. So, a small part of me thinks he didn't fully own his responsibility, but another part of me says there are some things here that parents need to hear. Should a boy going through puberty whose hormones are surging be asked to babysit little ones, do diaper changes, or bathe younger siblings? What he says might be valuable in helping people put boundaries in place that insure safety of all the children in their home by preventing incest. Teaching children things like personal and emotional  boundaries, modesty, respect of personal space, and sexual purity without shaming is really hard work, but not impossible! Boys can be taught they are not victims to their hormones and both boys and girls can be taught no one has a right to touch their body inappropriately. Families need to have healthy discussions about the dangers of pornography and not assume "good families" won't be impacted by it. Pornography is not a harmless passtime and one exposure to it has a huge impact in the person seeing it. Before pornography was so easily accessed, it was proven that in the communities where it was freely sold the number of rapes, sexual assaults, and sexual abuse reported went up substantially. Pornography never just hurts the viewer. It impacts marriages, families, communities, and churches. 

I don't know how much of what is being written is accurate. But I know church leadership is never above the law and should report molestations. They should never ever assume men or women in the church can't be guilty. Many of the women in my groups were abused by church going dads or church leaders like pastors, youth pastors, elders and deacons, or Sunday school teachers, or camp counselors. In addition, the churches reputation is never more important than keeping the flock safe or seeing that sin is dealt with. Josh's church did advise them to get counseling for him and the victims, but that wasn't enough. Some of the articles say he received counseling, but his mother has said that he didn't. He was sent to work with someone they knew in another town and "kinda" got mentored. The courts and social services should have been the ones giving them options from which to choose.  

The state of Arkansas needs to adjust their laws to make sure perpetrators can be charged. Most victims don't report abuse until later in life and three year statue of limitations allows predators to keep on preying. It bothered me that the man who made the decision to not charge Josh is now in jail for child pornography use. Maybe everything was done according to law or maybe he just didn't believe what Josh did was criminal.

Back to the question proposed by the title of my post...what is a proper response to sin. Sin in the church should always grieve us and should stir up some righteous anger--anger that motivates us to stop the sin and care for its victims.

Some comments I read indicated the Dugger's actions hurt God's reputation. But, not one of us is big enough, powerful enough, and bad enough to do that. God is still faithful! God is still loving. God is still righteous. God is still just. God is still merciful. God is still omniscient. God is still omnipotent. God is still God. He is still God even when we lie, when we gossip, when we peek at porn, when we assault others with words, when we are unfaithful to Him, unfaithful in marriage, love poorly, or  choose to abuse. Man's actions reflect man's heart, not God's.

Maybe in his struggle with pornography, Josh forgot who God is and who he is as a child of God. His fear of  rejection is something with which we can identify and it could have been alleviated if he remembered in the face of porn he was deeply loved by God who had a better plan for him to get his needs met, to deal with his loneliness, and his family conflict. His struggle with anger, lust, pride (his words, not mine), and arousal could have been nipped in the bud, had he believed he had safe people with whom he could be real. Sometimes the prevention of strongholds lies in the truth that Christianity is more about what we believe about God and ourselves and the amount of trust we place in God and in ourselves in our community than about our attempts at "good" works.

This whole stone casting thing we Christians and non Christians alike do bothers me. Why do we feel so threatened by others' opinions and thoughts when they differ from ours? As a believer, I am sure there are plenty of us sitting in church pews every Sunday wearing masks--masks that hide secret sins we have yet to confess, denial of pain we have caused others, broken relationships we fail to mend because pride gets in the way of our apology, and pain of abusive relationships we have yet to share. I am hoping now that both the Duggers and us will have the opportunity take off our "Good People" masks and become  healthier, more godly churches and families. I hope we will have the opportunities to share our real stories as we grow compassion for other victims, perpetrators, and families so broken by sin.

I hope all of us will find a godly balance of truth and grace that promotes growth, allows us to experience real love, and ultimately sets us free from the strongholds with which we are plagued. I hope as we get more real so others will see that God is still God and that God is still in the business of loving broken people like you and me and that God is still a God who is in the business of writing beautiful redeeming stories. I hope Josh doesn't disappear from the public eye. Too many of the victims we work with stay stuck because perpetrators don't own their actions and continue to look like monsters in their eyes. There are definitely predators who have no remorse, no capacity to empathize, and who will keep on abusing. Then there are those who have perpetrated and experienced remorse, regret, sorrow, and who have confessed their sins and are willing to bear the consequences of their actions and willing to do whatever it takes to change. These are people who are truly broken by their sin. They live daily with the truth of what they have done and have understood the God's grace wasn't cheap. It not only came as a result of the shed blood of Christ, it came through the facing of ugly sin that ran deep in their souls and the pain that they have caused others.

We would do well to remember true grace can't be extended in the darkness of cover up or in the presence of denial and/or blame shifting--it can only be experienced in the  presence of the truth of what we have done, real sorrow can be birthed by God who grieves over sin, heart repentance that drives us to change, and the willingness to fully face  our victims' pain.

The Duggers have lived very public lives and are being forced into the public eye by journalists to deal with this. I don't think that is in the best interest of the survivors. The law is supposed to protect victims of sexual assault because others cause secondary wounding by discounting their stories or blaming them. Maybe we as a nation need to realize we have no right to demand the girls live this out in our eyes and grow compassionate enough to allow the survivors the privacy they need to deal with this and the right to tell their stories when and if they choose to do so. To do anything less is to abuse them again. None of us have the right to do that.

In closing, I must say that if you are a victim and this story has triggered your pain and memories, there is help for this. Go to either www.passionateheartministry.com for resources and information or to the Association of Christian Counselors and look for a therapist on their referral list who works with abuse. There is really good help available. There is also good help available for those struggling with pornography and sexual addiction through www.bethesdaworkshops.org.

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.