I am the Lame Begger

Sometimes when I am in church, I am blessed with two sermons at one time. One is  the  sermon  being given by the pastor and the other is the sermon the Lord presses on my heart. Last Sunday I had one of those experiences as one of our pastors was teaching through Acts 3:1-10.* My mind was completely engaged in the sermon and I was feeling excited as I heard the concepts Pastor Brent shared. His sermon in a nut shell was, "God interrupts the usual with the unusual to do the undeniable."

This Biblical account is centered around a man who had been born lame. Because of this defect, he was not allowed to worship in the temple and would have been ostracized by his  community because people believed birth defects, illnesses, or other afflictions were often a result of a person or his family's sin. He was unable to work and his needs were provided when people took mercy on him and carried him to the Beautiful Gate of the Temple so he could beg. Daily he sat.  begging  those who came to the temple to pray at the same time every day. The disciples came to pray as was their custom. And the man sat there day after day begging and begging...so used to people walking by that he no longer looked up as he begged. 

However, this day was different. The disciples stopped and Peter looked down at the man and asked him to look at them. The man looked up and they told him they had no money to give him, but would give him what they did had. Then Peter said, "In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!" He then took the lame beggar by the hands and raised him up. The man didn't just stumble up stiffly like someone who had not used his legs in a long time. He leapt up as his legs became strong. He took a few steps but his joy was so great that he couldn't contain it. He started leaping and praising God as he entered the temple for the first time ever to worship his God.

I love this man's response! I love his joy. I love it that God worked through the disciples to make this man whole. As I read through the gospels and Acts, I often find myself asking the same questions  Pastor Brent posed in his sermon, "Why him?" "Why here?" and "Why now?"

God may have chosen this man because He knew the man would rise up and praise Him unashamedly and many people would see the undeniable power of God and be drawn to the Savior. Maybe God wanted people to see the joy and praise that flowed out of the relationship that healed. Maybe when Christ had been by there before, the man's heart wasn't ready to receive healing or Him, but now he was. Or maybe it was just God's will for it to occur on this day, at this time, to this man.

During the sermon I was pondering the fact that Jesus didn't heal every person and was wondering why He chose who He chose. That is when the second sermon began to unfold in my mind. Every person Jesus touched is someone I can relate to and this time it was no different. Maybe, God chose to heal the lame beggar to show me and possibly you that we are all lame beggars.

We were all born spiritually dead and as a result were defective in the sense that the part of us that was to connect our hearts to the heart of God was unable to do its job, just as the man's legs couldn't do their job. In and of our selves we aren't good enough to enter the family of God and we needed Jesus to give us a way in, just as the beggar needed someone to make him whole so he could enter the Temple. So often, we feel defective as a result of our sin or the sin that was inflicted upon us by others and it is God who can free us from that feeling. 

We are also like the lame beggar, crying out for what we think we need, when what we really need is more understanding of Jesus. So many of us spend years asking God for things and we are asking amiss either because we don't recognize our true needs or we don't realize how big our God is.

We ask Him to make people love us, not realizing we already  possess a love so rich it fills the deepest holes in our hearts so we can become more about giving love than receiving it.

We ask Him for acceptance, not realizing He has taken us out of the Kingdom of Darkness and accepted us into His Kingdom of Light and we are now called  His chosen ones. We honestly can't be anymore accepted than that! All we have to do to feel accepted is to embrace the truth.

We ask for healing from addictions, eating disorders, and emotional pain, thinking if we could be set free that we could be close to God. But the truth is that by leaning in to Jesus and being close to Him we live out victory through His power being displayed through our weaknesses.

We ask for wisdom, not realizing that by having Jesus, we have been given the mind of Christ and we can tap into His wisdom by spending time with Him in His Word.

We ask God to free us from the crippling shame with which we are plagued, not realizing the way out of shame is bringing the shameful things to Jesus's light.

When we ask God for something, what we are often really needing is to draw near to Jesus and allow Him into the hidden parts of our lives so that our relationship with Him grows deeper, more powerful, and more satisfying. As believers, we have a God who takes the crippled and makes them whole. We have a God who can show us our true needs. We have a God who can help the unbelief that keeps us from seeing all that we already possess. Oh, that we would never ever forget that we have a  powerful God with a great big heart whose resources are infinitely enough to meet our every need. Oh, if we only believed the truth, then we would be filled with the same uncontainable joy the lame beggar had. After all, aren't we are all just different versions of him?

*This sermon can be heard by going to http://www.riverlakeschurch.org/index.php/watch-and-listen/sermons/the-lame-beggar-healed

They said, "Yes!"

A couple of weeks ago our nation experienced another mass shooting. This shooting was different, in that the shooter had victims lie on the floor and then asked them to stand up one at a time. When one stood, he asked if he or she was a Christian. If the answer was yes, he shot to kill; if the answer was no, he shot to injure. It reminded me a little of the shooter in Columbine High School who also had asked his victims if they were believers, shooting them when they said yes.

As I viewed the news stories about Umpqua, my heart hurt because a small community suffered so many losses and it will hurt for years to come. I also grieved because those who were present that day suffered a horrible trauma and trauma forever changes the lives of those who experience it. Many people will have to work way harder at living because of one person's hate-filled actions.

I found myself contemplating many things that day--What drives a person to hate believers enough to shoot them? What gives people the courage to say, "Yes," when it will cost them their life? How will those who denied their faith deal with their shame? And how do I deal with this seizing fear that wells up in my own heart as I think of those I love possibly dying because of their faith?

There is and will continue to be a lot written about the psychology behind mass shooters by people way more qualified than I to write on that topic. I find myself drawn to write about the questions I have been pondering, but I do so with fear and trepidation because when lives are lost for the sake of Christ, I feel like I am standing on Holy ground and want to write in a way that honors God, honors those that were martyred, and honors those who suffered tremendous loss.

First the hatred people feel towards believers goes way back. The Bible is full of accounts of hatred, first, towards Israel and then towards Christians. Some who hate believers may have cause for their anger--some may have been spiritually abused by legalistic people who covered their own shame by shaming them. Some may have been victimized by believers who judged and shamed them for their sin, rather than showing them God's grace. Some may have been  sexually, psychologically, emotionally, or physically victimized by someone claiming to be a Christian while church leadership remained passive in the face of their pain. Maybe they had the gospel forcefully crammed down their throats with out experiencing Christ's love through those bearing the message. Maybe they were simply overlooked and ignored and treated as invisible individuals, not worthy of acknowledgement.

On the other hand, maybe they hate believers because we remind them of the God-hunger etched in their hearts by the Creator. Maybe, that hunger is what triggers shame that they cover with anger and hatred. Maybe that shame was inflicted on them by others or maybe they donned it themselves by the choices they made, choices they regret and can't undo. Maybe they hate believers because their shame runs so deep they can't face the pain of it long enough to look into the loving face of the Savior who frees humans from the shame they bear. Maybe they hate believers because they see something in them they desperately want, but are afraid to seek. Maybe they hate believers because giving up the pride of trying to control life is too scary. Maybe they hate believers because admitting they need a Savior feels too vulnerable and unsafe. Maybe believers lives expose the darkness in their own souls and they hate that. So, they hide, they blame, they hate, and they murder.

There was also the very real possibility that the shooters hatred was fueled by the Enemy who is ever seeking to devour, destroy, and demolish God's people. Unresolved issues in people's lives  leave them open to all sorts of demonic influences that distort the thinking, causing destructive thoughts, destructive patterns of behavior, and the making of ungodly vows that drive hateful behavior. Those distorted perceptions blind people to the Truth.

When I think of the courage it took for the students at Umpqua to stand and say, "Yes," I feel  humbled. I thought of a guy I was interested in during my sophomore year in college. He asked me if I was a Christian. I admitted that I was, but I played down the importance of my faith, because I feared he would reject me. The guilt and shame I experienced afterward have helped me stand firmer in my faith since that time. But here were students the same age as I was who were staring down the barrel of a gun when they were asked the same question and they did not waver. When the first person was shot for saying yes, I think it would have required even more courage for the second person to say yes, and then the third, and then the fourth...

When I think about what gave them the courage they displayed, my thoughts are drawn to Stephen who was also martyred for his faith. In Acts 6 Stephen was described as a man who was full of grace and power. He was known for speaking with wisdom and for having a bold Spirit that offended nonbelievers who were in rebellion against God. Acts 7 tells us those nonbelievers responded to Stephen's last sermon by becoming enraged to the point that they were gnashing their teeth at him and they immediately dragged him out of the city where they stoned him. But the Lord  graciously  gave Stephen a vision of the Jesus standing at the right hand of God. As they stoned him he commended his spirit to Christ and then in a gracious act cried out for mercy to be shown to the crowd. That same Spirit that indwelled Stephen indwelled the believers who stood firm in their faith at Umpqua. I wonder if God gave them the same vision?

The Bible says the death of the saints in precious in the sight of the Lord (Psalm 116:15). It says that the spirit who is behind the martyrdom of believers will ultimately and completely be destroyed (Revelation 17)! The believers who were killed in Umpqua join a great cloud of witnesses found in Hebrews 11:35-38. Some were tortured, refusing to accept release so they could rise to a better life. Some suffered mocking, beatings, imprisonment, and death by stoning, sword, being sawn in two, and we could add guns. Some lived destitute. Some were afflicted. Some were mistreated. And God said of them that the world was not worthy to have them.

I also believe the precious Saints at Umpqua are with those mentioned in Revelation 6:9-11. John saw them in His vision when the fifth seal was opened and he wrote, "I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the witness they had borne. They cried out with a loud voice, "O Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth? They were each given a white robe and told to rest a little longer, until the number of their fellow servants and their brothers should be complete, who were to be killed as they themselves had been." (ESV) God will honor both their faith and their deaths. The last part of that passage seizes this grandma heart of mine. It indicates there will be more deaths of believers who bear witness of Jesus. It could be me or you or those we love.

A part of me prays for my loved ones' protection, and another part of me prays that God will instill in them and in me a faith so strong we could stand firm and say, "Yes!" even while looking down the barrel of gun.

The faith of martyrs in precious to God. It stands in the Faith Hall of Fame with-- the faith of Abel and his acceptable sacrifice, the faith of Enoch who never saw death, the faith of Noah and his life-saving ark, the faith of the nomadic Abram, the faith of Sarah and little "Laughter" who suckled her post-menopausal breast, the faith of Isaac and blessings he spoke over Jacob and Esau, the faith of Joseph and his bones returned to Israel to wait for the resurrection, the faith of Moses and the first born Hebrew children who escaped death by keeping the first Passover, and the faith of Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jephthah, David, Samuel and the prophets all of which conquered kingdoms, enforced justice, received promises, stopped mouths of lions, quenched power of fire, escaped death, or became made mighty warriors despite plaguing weaknesses, and the women who received back their dead by resurrection.

It remains a mystery why one's faith results in a miracle and another's faith results in death. But we know God notices faith. He saw the martyrs Umpqua and He cared. By their testimony they showed that God is real, that God saves, and that this life is not all there is. The enemy would have us believe he won that day and that their deaths prove that God doesn't care. But, the truth is because of their faith the enemy has lost yet another battle in the war he has waged on God.

I will be praying for those who lost sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, sisters, teachers, or friends. I long for God to fill them with His peace and His love. I long for Him to make His presence very real as they grieve their losses--the loss of people, the loss of a sense of safety, the loss of future holidays, graduations, weddings, children and grandchildren.  I pray that they would be able to work through their anger and fully forgive, not because the shooter deserves it, but because they want to honor the faith of their loved ones and the God of which they testified. I pray that in spite of the deep pain they experience they will be able to eventually reconnect to joy. I pray they will be surrounded by people who understand grief, who won't rush them or speak wounding platitudes to them.

I wonder if there might be victims who denied their faith to preserve their lives. I fear that if there were some, they might bear much shame. Some will say they could not have been "real" believers because they denied the faith, but I suggest that Peter's story tells us something very different. He denied Christ three times in one night and the Lord Himself sought him out and restored his calling. If some denied Him, I pray their faith would be strengthened and their shame transformed. We can all learn from their stories just like we learn from Peter's. God can use this event to strengthen their faith--just as He used Peter's cowardice to help him become a humble preacher who went on to preach some of the most powerful sermons ever voiced in the face of great adversity. Our God never  gives up on His children.

Finally, I pray for us who believe and still live--that we would be strengthened by the testimony of the witnesses in Umpqua whose testimonies included the giving of their lives--that we might live with hearts fully devoted to Christ. I desire for others to see our "Yes!" by our words, by our actions, by our attitudes, by our lives, by our deaths, and by our loving obedience to Jesus, who gave His own life for us.

The Transformation of Shame to Glory

"But you, O LORD, are a shield about me,

my glory, and the lifter of my head."

Psalm 3:3

 

I recently had the privilege of hearing my favorite author, Diane Langberg, speak on the topic of shame. It reminded me of the journey I've been on the last few years. I will be sharing some of her thoughts in this post. Her talk was titled "Shame and Trauma" and was given at the AACC Be Strong World Conference 2015 and can be purchased from their website.

Shame is a very uncomfortable emotion and is experienced in relationships. It begins in childhood when we realize we're "less than" others. Little boys feel it when they realize they aren't as strong as Dad. Little girls experience it when they realize they can't read as well as Mom. It's also apparent  when we observe a parent in a store, dragging a little one behind. We can read shame in the child's face as she believes she's defective because she can't keep up. 

After The Fall, Adam and Eve's emotional response to sin was shame. To hide their shame they covered the parts of themselves that were different. But, the coverings couldn't cover the shame running deep within. So, when they heard the Lord coming, they tried hiding, but the hiding couldn't conceal the wrong done or the shame felt. So, they blamed--Eve blamed the serpent, Adam blamed Eve, and Adam cast a bit of blame in God's direction, as well. But, the covering, the hiding, and the blaming couldn't alleviate their shame. So, shame was passed down to their children, who passed it down to their children, who passed it down to their children, all the way down to you and to me.

I admit that shame is something I've been intimately acquainted with. My first memory of it was developmental shame. On a family trip, Mom started singing beautifully. I was around age four and started singing with her and did okay as I sang melody with her. Then she asked me to sing the melody so she could harmonize. But when she sang harmony I couldn't hear the melody in my head and couldn't harmonize with her. Though she tried to ease my discomfort, I heard her words through a veil of shame and sat there with face beet-red, believing I wasn't as good as her.

Another source of shame was inflicted upon me when I was abused. I was too young to understand what had happened the first time, but old enough to understand something shameful had occurred.  The shame grew with a few more abusive encounters and grew again when I was old enough to realize what had happened. I carried the shame of being chose by those abusers--shame that was really theirs to bear.

Shame also surfaced when I disobeyed my parents and was punished because I interpreted punishment and love as mutually exclusive and believed, when punished, I was too bad to be loved.

Shame also surfaced with the realization that I had the power to inflict pain with words, with silences, with actions, and with inaction.

Then shame sank all the way to the core when we were in an accident in which there was a fatality. I believed I should have been able to stop the accident. We weren't to talk about it, so I stuffed the shame and developed an eating disorder. I focused on calorie-counting, obsessive exercise, and  numbers on the scale to avoid feeling shame caused by the accident and by a maturing body that was drawing unwanted attention.

The eating disorder brought its own shame, but the shame of not being a size 1 and less than 95 pounds, as bad as it felt, was better than experiencing the shame of sin, of abuse, of the accident, of being inadequate, and of feeling defective. As shame grew, I avoided its pain with anger that anger ran hot. It was turned inward so both my real and my imagined failures were met with self-contempt.

Shame runs all the way to the core, because we are bent to do wrong. It runs to the core because we hide our trues selves behind masks that we're too terrified to remove and we know the selves we present are false. Shame runs to the core because we've been deeply wounded by others, leaving us believing we aren't worth loving, we aren't good enough to be accepted, or we aren't valuable enough to be cared for. It runs to the core because of broken relationships we can't mend, move past, or in which we haven't be able to give or receive forgiveness. It runs deep because at the end of the day we know just how poorly we fulfill the command to love as Jesus loves.

I've known many others like me, who numbed shame with self-hatred, believing and living as invisible individuals, not worth the space they take up, the food they eat, or the compliments they receive. I've also known others who numbed shame by having contempt for others. These are dear souls whose judgments are harsh, whose words cut deep, or who cast doubt on the character of others with words softly, but slyly spoken.

I wouldn't be surprised if under the hateful actions of bullies, rapists, mass shooters, runs a core of shame so deep it's strangling the good in them. They avoid  shame by verbal assaulting, physically assaulting, raping, or murdering any who might see their shame. Shame drives the hatred that is spewed at individuals and people groups like families, genders, races, religions, or whole cultures.

We can experience communal shame that is felt when someone in our community sins. For example, when church leaders fall, we all feel the shame. When a family member fails, the whole family feels the impact. This thing called shame can be governed by culture whose morals codes are different. In our culture, we experience shame more as individuals. But in other cultures shame is felt when family honor is broken by things like poor grades, not giving birth to a man child, or by being raped. Diane shared stories of women who were killed by family members because they were victims of rape, which brought disgrace to their families and the only way out of the shame was killing the victim.

Shame is a thief. It robs us of dignity, of relationships, of being fully known, and of being accepted. When God asked Adam and Eve where they were after they sinned, it was because He wanted to see them and set them free from the shame they were experiencing. But in shame they feared exposure. Like them, we hide our shamed selves. We hide from the exposure of guilt,  dishonor, humiliation, and inadequacy. We hide behind arrogance, education, economic status, power, self-contempt, others-contempt, alcohol, drugs, eating disorders, rage, good behavior, bad behavior, and ultimately suicide. Hiding can never resolve shame, it only deepen it because  isolation  allows shame-filled thoughts to fill our minds--thoughts like "I am too big," "I am too ugly," "I am too stupid," "I and too defective," as well as thoughts like "I am a loser," "I don't have a spiritual gift," or "I don't fit in anywhere." As Diane pointed out, it causes us to measure our uniqueness from how defective we believe we are rather than from the gifts, abilities, and intelligence we have.  Shame runs deeper than emotions because, in shame, we lose sight of who we were created to be as image bearers of the great I AM. She pointed out that shame has been handed down generation after generation and so people curse, use drugs, sell themselves, inflict pain, and we murder. And all of this is because shame was the loss of glory we all experienced in The Fall.

Diane also pointed out that our responses to shame are the same responses we have towards trauma. First, we respond by fighting. We do this by attacking our selves through starvation or other self-destructive behaviors. We do this by attacking others, especially those that might expose us or our weaknesses. Second we respond by fleeing. We do this by isolating or being over zealous in religious activity and a frenzy of work. Third, we respond by freezing. We do this by dissociating so no one will see us and so no one can make us own our shame. We also do this by remaining silent or passive. Regardless of our response the goal is always to make sure the real us won't be seen.

Yet there is so much more to the story!

We were created in God's image to bear His glory, not to live as disgraced, blemished, reprehensible, and inadequate beings. We're to remember God Himself covered Adam and Eve with animal skins, pointing to the Savior who shed His blood for sin and shame. It's God who is our glory and the one who takes our head and lifts it up so we can view His beautiful face.

He is a Savior deeply acquainted with shame. He was a born to  an unwed mother and came from shameful region called Nazareth. He rubbed shoulders with the poor, the tax collectors, the women, the prostitutes, the lepers, the maimed, the blind, the deaf, the demon possessed, and even the half-bred Samaritans, all of whom were considered people of shame. He was accused of being Beelzebub, crazy, and a liar. He was rejected and sold for the price of a slave. Arrested by religious leaders, He was crowd-mocked, face-slapped, spittle-drenched, beard-plucked, clothing-stripped, and cross-hung. In death He bore the full weight of our sin and our shame. Yet, He did not hang His face, He despised shame and looked it squarely in the face until His redemptive work was done.

We were called in Hebrews to fix our eyes upon Him. As we behold Him, we are fully seen by Him and our shame is transformed into glory as our position as Image bearers is restored. When we grasp that, we are free of shame. We are free to love and free to go to the shamed and identify with them as Jesus did us. We are free to lift their faces so they, too, can behold His face and have their shame transformed to glory.

The questions we must face is, "Where is our gaze? Is it on ourselves as we bury our shame or is it on Him who can set us free?"

Worshipping in the "No"

A pastor told me he had read my post "How Long the Waits," which is a post on prayer. He had enjoyed the post, but mentioned I had not addressed the "no" answers to prayer as thoroughly as I had addressed the "yes" and "wait" answers. I told him, I didn't struggle with the "no" as much as "wait" because when answers come quickly and are clearly "no," I know I've been heard and can move on while the "wait" leaves me feeling unheard and unseen. As I reread the blog in preparation to address the "no" answers, I realized my response wasn't as true as I had alluded to several significant prayers that had been answered through "waits" that turned into "no's." Some of those were listed in the blog when I explained that sometimes the answers I got left me full of shame and an obsessive heart searching for hidden sin that might have hindered my prayers.

"I don't know how many times I would find myself waiting on God and find shame and guilt rising in my soul. leaving me obsessively searching my heart for the hidden sin. Over time I learned more about prayer, but occasionally the guilt would come flooding back like it did when I prayed my parents' marriage would be healed, but it ended in divorce. Like it did when I had been praying for a friend to receive Christ and he died in unbelief. Like it did when I had prayed for a friend to conceive, but she died without ever bearing a child. Like it did when I'd been  praying for a friend to find a mate and it never came to be. Like it did when I prayed for healing for a friend battling cancer that eventually took its toll and friends and family had to let go and say goodbye. Like it did when I prayed for God to heal a friend's sick heart, but she died of congestive heart failure. Like it did when I was praying for God to lift the fog of depression but it lingered for several years more. Like it did when I was praying a friendship would be restored, only to realize it won't happen this side of heaven"   
   

These prayer requests were emotional prayers because I prayed for people I loved dearly. Some felt complicated because sometimes the answer looked like it was "yes," then it turned back into "wait," then looked like a "no," and then repeated. An example of this is when I prayed for my parents' marriage to be healed. Their marriage was one of severe ups and downs, threats of divorce, separations, and reconciliations, and ultimately ended in a painful divorce. All of this taking place from the time I was conceived until they divorced when I was pregnant with my second child. I have been contemplating the "no" answers this week, trying to figure out exactly how I feel about them. There is more in my heart in regard to the "No," than I originally thought.

First, some prayers that were answered with a clear "no" were easy to accept and move past. Sometimes it was because I had little emotional attachment for whom I was praying. If I don't know someone well, I don't experience as much emotional energy praying as I do when I pray for close friends or family members. "No" can also be easy to accept and move past when I've prayed and it becomes obvious that God's answer is "no" and His answer alleviates suffering, as it did in the case of my friend, Karen. She received a diagnosis of lung cancer and was not given long to live. She lived several years past the doctors' predictions and loved God, trusting Him until the end. She reminds me of the group of saints mentioned in Hebrews Chapter 11:39-40 who remained faithful through severe hardships, "And all these, though commended through their faith did not receive what was promised, since God had provided something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect." Although God did not answer our prayers for the full healing of her body, He granted her extra years and the strength and grace to fight valiantly the cancer ravaging her body. She died in faith, believing He could heal her, but her healing occurred in heaven. God's "No" ultimately alleviated her pain and suffering. The years of her fight taught me a lot about faith and about trusting God in the hard.

Other "No's" have been harder to take. I prayed for years that God would heal a friend of a heart condition. I knew the answer went from a "wait" to a "no" when she passed away in her sleep  from congestive heart failure. I struggled with the "no" because I experienced Jesus in my relationship with her. She loved well, forgave quickly, was slow to anger, gave lavishly, and had a heart for others to know God. As I grieved, I knew God had the power to heal her and had chosen not to in this life. It pulled at my heart strings because she left two kids, a husband, and a slew of friends missing her. I don't know why God chose the time He chose to take her home, but when I look back I see God's gracious hand all over the situation. I had called her the week prior to her death and for some reason neither of us wanted to get off of the phone. We had talked regularly, but that day our conversation lasted hours and took on deeper transparency than any of our other conversations. We affirmed our love for each other and celebrated the long friendship we had in spite of the miles between us. She shared that even though she had deeply grieved the loss of three babies when we lived close, she was blessed and thoroughly enjoying the two children God had allowed her to raise. I shared with her the blessings of being a mom to my children. We laughed, we cried, we reminisced, and we challenged each other to love well and to forgive readily. As we hung up, something in me sensed it was our last conversation. I shook it off, but soon after that call a mutual friend called to tell me she was gone. She got choked up and couldn't speak and I gently told her I already knew it was Millie.

The love and comfort I received from the church at her funeral and from our last conversation helped me navigate the "No." In her death, I was given the privilege of seeing things she had done to help that church grow in  ways God wanted it to grow, but she would have never told me about those things herself. Sometimes I wish I could pick up the phone and call her, and I feel a wave a grief that I can't. Yet, I am confident the God she exemplified is good and is faithful to His promises. His taking her home alleviated the painful and scary symptoms she had described to me in that last conversation. I know the impact she had on the church, her friends and her family is ever  evident.  Her impact helped many become lovers of God and lovers of people. I know she is still singing praises, but now I know she has the joy of singing praises to the Lord, face-to-face.

As I look back at other "nos" I realize there were seasons of life in which the "no" answers challenged my faith and caused me to close myself off from God. I was afraid to ask, fearing the "no" because I believed it to be a pronouncement of judgment on me and my walk with God. I have since accepted we all have a fleshly sinful core that runs deep. But it is really all about God's grace and His grace is always bigger than my sin. It His is grace that saved me and it His is grace that is slowly and surely transforming me. It is His goodness that leads me to repentance, not a fear of "no' answers and surely not the fear of not having the approval of others over my spirituality.

For a time I also struggled with the idea that the "no" answers meant I was less loved than others who share how God answers their prayers. But as I look back at my life I see something more about how God has relentlessly pursued me. I never deserved it, it is all of grace. I didn't ever physically run from God, but I did run emotionally from Him by closing off my heart and living in an emotionally  numbed state. One day I finally realized that whenever I "ran" there would always come a point that I felt like I hit a proverbial wall, emotionally and spiritually and I am thankful that "wall" that I ran into was Jesus, Himself.

I have come to realize God doesn't work the same way in everyone's lives. Three mothers can ask God to heal their children. God takes one home. He heals one. He teaches one how to live with chronic illness. Yet I believe God relentlessly loves all three mothers and the children for which they prayed.

Four mothers can pray for their sons or daughters to return safely from war. Yet, one comes home in a coffin, one comes home seemingly unscathed, one comes home with emotional wounds running deep to the core, and one comes home with missing limbs. Yet God loves all four mothers and the children for which they prayed.

Several dads pray for their drug addicted children to come home and get clean and sober. Yet one has to identify his son in the morgue. One has to pass his daughter on the street corner, prostituting herself on the street to pay for her habit. One has the joy of watching his child work hard for sobriety, return to Christ, and help others overcome their addictions. And God loves every dad and the children for which they prayed.

Several moms pray as their children struggle with depression. One loses a child to suicide, one sees her child healed, and one watches as her child learns to find joy in the midst of the depression. And God loves the moms and the children for which they prayed.

Then their are catastrophes like the Twin Towers. People prayed for family members to be rescued.  Some came home and some didn't. Then there were those who had last minute changes in flights and their lives were spared. There were some who stopped to help others and lost their lives because of the sacrifice they made, while there were some whose lives were spared because they too had paused at just the right moment as they were helping someone. Yet, somehow I believe God loved
relentlessly and was pursuing people in the midst of what appeared to be chaotic abandonment. And God, He loved them--those who lived, those who died, and those struggling still because of what they experienced that horrific day.

There are times we, as Christians, judge others who have prayed and have received life altering "no's." We act as if they were somehow more sinful, less worthy, or less faithful than those whose prayers were answered with resounding "yeses." Maybe, just maybe, we do this because we're uncomfortable with a God whose ways are bigger than our ways, who is not bound by our human finite minds, and who can say "no" to the things we so desperately desire. We want a magic formula to insure we get what we ask for, but maybe prayer isn't so much about the answers as it is about the relationship we develop in the humility of the asking.

Not one of us has everything figured out about prayer. When a tsunami hit Thailand several years ago, many believers claimed it to be God's punishment for overt sex trafficking of children occurring there, not realizing it is happening here in our own communities. Maybe some traffickers died that day, but so did victims and believers who never trafficked anyone. Yet, in the aftermath grace was visible in the midst of horrific trauma and Christ was extended through believers who went in and provided relief and that tsunami access to those who needed Jesus and those who needed help out of the trafficked life. Many things, we tend to be so judgmental about, are invitations to be Jesus' hands and feet to people who have been made vulnerable by the Master's design so that they might  recognize they need Him. Those things making them vulnerable are our calling to meet their need.

I watch as women struggle with God's sovereignty over abuses they experienced. Many prayed God would protect them and carry great shame because He didn't. They mistakenly believe His lack of protection to be a pronouncement of their worth. But the truth is there were people who turned their heads, pretending not to see. Some believed healing would come from understanding the "why's" now understand that it came from a transparent relationship they developed with God as they wrestled honestly with Him over His seeming lack of protection. That wrestling helped them accept that their life story as a redeeming life story God, Himself, is still penning.

I have learned over a long period of time with a lot of wrestling that I can lean into God in total honest transparency when life is hard. The harder I lean into Him, the more I can see His goodness as He reveals it in the "yes" answers, in the "wait awhile" answers, and in the "no" answers. As I boldly, specifically, and continuously pray I want to have an open heart that accepts that His ways are not defined by me, but by Him. I want to believe whole-heartedly that He is fully present even when I don't sense Him and when I can't understand what is happening. It is in prayer that I find my relationship with Him growing and the more real I am the more I pray like Jesus did in the Garden of Gethsemane. It is then that I see His will revealed not only in His Word, but in the way He chooses to answer prayers. God is not mean. God is not manipulative. God is not seeking to control me with fear. God is not seeking to destroy me. He is gracious and every action and decision He makes is filtered through love scarred hands and a heart that has been pursuing me relentlessly. I can't help but wonder if the "no" answer is often the intervention God uses to bring me to the place I am humbled enough to open my heart fully to Him. And maybe it is the prayers I pray and the praise I give in the aftermath of the "no" when my heart has been laid bare and doubts have surfaced that allows me to exercise faith and participate in worship in its purest form as I proclaim, "God is good!"

How Long the Wait

I am reading the Sacred echo*, by Margret Feinberg. Her third chapter is titled "how long?" I love the chapter because it speaks to one of the struggles I've had with prayer--"the waits." For years it seemed like I would pray and then just wait and wait and wait to see if the prayer was answered. When the waiting got long, I found myself giving up because I felt invisible, unloved, ignored, and unworthy. I also found that unanswered prayer often left me filled with shame and guilt because I had heard pastors say unanswered prayers indicated that there was sin in our lives. I don't know how many times I would find myself waiting on God and find the shame and guilt rising in my soul leaving me obsessively searching my heart for the hidden sin. Over time I learned more about prayer, but occasionally the guilt would come flooding back--

• like it did when I prayed my parents' marriage would be healed, but it ended in divorce
• like it did when I had been praying for a friend to receive Christ and he died in unbelief
• like it did when I had been praying for a friend to conceive but she died with ever bearing a child
• like it did when I'd been  praying for a friend to find a mate and it never came to be 
• like it did the time I'd been praying for healing for a friend battling cancer, but it eventually took it toll and friends and family said good by 
• like it did when I prayed for God to heal a friend's sick heart, but she died of congestive heart failure
• like it did when I was praying for God to lift the fog of depression but it lingered for several years more
• like it did when I was praying a friendship would be restored only to realize it won't happen this side of heaven      

Don't get me wrong, I can fill pages with answered prayers--a son who survived a ruptured spleen, a thriving granddaughter who survived a traumatic birth three months early, a friend who shared how God had healed her grieving heart after losing three babies, allowing her to enjoy the two she had, infertile couples conceiving when they were told conception was impossible, our friends' grandson surviving leukemia, other friends' grandson surviving liver cancer, addicts walking in victory, victims finding voices, wounded souls finding deep joy, lost souls finding salvation, prodigals returning to serve, deep healing conversations at just the right time, and words of affirmation that have filled hungry souls and imputed God's hope just as souls were running dry.

Margret shares in her book that she has learned to look for themes that have played out in her life because they teach her things that God may be doing in her life. One of the themes she'd noticed was the theme of waiting and she began to ask the question "Why so much waiting?" As she searched the Scriptures she saw that it is a theme that was woven through out the Scriptures. God is waiting, Creation is waiting. We are waiting. One of the things that makes waiting hard is that we tend to forget that God is waiting with us. She also found that many before her asked, "How long must we wait?" In fact the first person to ask how long was God, Himself. In Exodus  10:3 God asks Pharaoh through Moses and Aaron, "How long will you refuse to humble yourself before Me? Let My people go, that they may serve Me."

After finishing the chapter, I have been thinking about the waiting and realized the waiting has done some significant transforming work in my life. First, it has exposed areas of unbelief that I didn't know existed. Sometimes the unbelief had to do with God's character. I could say God was good, but there were times in the waits God showed me I doubted His goodness. I could say God is love, but in the waits God showed me I was not believing He loved me in a real and personal way. I could say God is all powerful, but in the midst of the waits God showed me that at times I doubted He had the power to do what I was asking. If someone was really sick, I prayed half heartedly for healing, because it was the right thing to do, but in my heart of hearts I struggled to believe He could and/or would heal broken bodies.

Many years ago when we moved from Mississippi a friend called often to see how I was adjusting. We spent a good part of the time talking about God, His character, His power, and how He acted in the days the Bible was being written. I believe she had the spiritual gift of faith and I soaked up godly wisdom from those conversations. I began to pattern my prayers after her prayers and after the prayers found in the Scriptures and I began to see a difference in me as my eyes and heart became more open to what God was doing when He seemed active and when He seemed inactive.

A few years into the journey I realized I struggled with unbelief in that I didn't fully believe what God said about me in His word. This made it difficult for me to come boldly to the throne of grace. It made it hard for me to persist in prayer as God instructs us to. When I began to choose to embrace my God-given identity, I began to pray more often, more persistently, and more expectantly.  

Second, after my faith began to develop I realized the waiting stirred up passion in me that was new and exciting. The first time I became aware of this was on a short-term mission trip in Mexico. We had prepared our students to teach and minister to children in Mexico through a student lead Vacation Bible School. We helped the students prepare and we prayed with them that God would bring the children to the churches we would be at. The first day we went to the church we were assigned to and only a couple of children showed up where as in the past the church had been packed. Our students went back to base camp, defeated. At the worship service that night other sites were giving glowing reports of their day. Finally, a student stood up and said that she was glad they had had a good day, but then she began to cry and shared passionately how she longed to have a chance to shower the kids with love and to share Jesus with them. The more she shared, the more passionate and the more powerful her words were. When she sat down the leader looked over our team of hurting teens and gently said, "Your day was not wasted. God was still at work. He has used this day of waiting to grow a passion in you that was not there before." I don't think a student or an adult took a conversation, a teachable moment, or prayer request lightly the remainder of that week.

That was only a one day wait, but I have had other "waits" that went on much longer. In fact, I am still in the middle of some. As I continue to persist in prayer I find the passion still growing. I long for the lost to find God in ways I never have before. I don't just hope the prodigals will return, but passionately long for God to meet them on the horizon, bathing them in His lavish grace. I don't just kind of hope wounded hearts find healing, I crave it. I don't just hope married couples might be reconciled, I deeply long for it because in reconciliation they will see something of God they won't see any other way. I no longer just half heartedly lift up grieving souls who need God's comfort, I persistently and passionately pray they get to see His goodness in the pain of their grief, and will experience Him personally as the Comforter.

Third, I realize the "waits" help purify my heart. Before I prayed because it was the right thing to do. But when I pray during times of waiting, I find it builds compassion and love in a heart that was once numb and that drives me to pray more often. It purifies my motives because it brings me face to face with my pride and my desire to appear more Spiritual than I really am. The longer the wait the more the prayer becomes about God and the person for whom I am praying. I have realized that God has used the waits to help me learn to love the things He loves and to hate the things He hates. As He puts passion, Holy desires, and deep longings in my heart, I realize He is sharing His heart with me and I am longing for others to see His goodness in the darkness permeating this land. I am longing for His holiness to shine brightly in this sin-filled world. I am longing for His love to replace the hatred so prevalent today. 

Fourth, praying "during "the waits" have brought healing to my heart. I often share that in our home group that our pastor taught a lesson on waiting. He asked us at the beginning why waiting was so hard for us to do. I remember I couldn't answer the question for myself. When He shared that God has His hears turned towards those who wait upon Him, I realized why the waits were so hard for me. When I was waiting, I had this picture in my mind of God just walking right past me as I called out His name and requested something. I felt unheard, overlooked, and unloved. After I saw that He had his ears turned toward me, I began to picture the wait as an invitation to keep on talking to Him. And in those waits buried pain surfaced and was given to Him. In those waits doubts were expressed and cares were cast on Him. In those waits fear was faced and courage was found. And in those waits deep wounds were shared that only the Healer could heal. I think sometimes when we come to Christ and trust Him as Savior we get the idea that we are just to put on a happy face and pretend that life is perfect. But the reality is when we pretend we don't experience fully all that God is...the Healer, the Comforter, our source of strength, our source of power, our source of humility, our source of courage.

Finally, one of the best things I uncovered in the waits was intimacy with God. When my dear friend lost her babies and I lived far away, the only thing I could do was to pray for her and I did so daily. When a young friend walked away from God for a season, all could do for her was pray and I did so daily. When a couple in our Bible study struggled with infertility and longed for a child, all I could do was pray and I did so daily. When our granddaughter came early and was in the NICU for so long all I could do was pray. When far away friends were dying of cancer all I could do was pray so I prayed and I prayed and I prayed. As I write this another friend is terribly sick and has been in critical care for over twenty days and the passion I feel for him and his family overwhelms my soul and all I can do is pray--so I pray and pray and then pray some more. As I pray passion grows, doubts dissipate, pride melts and I find myself feeling closer to God, realizing as never before that God is just as much in the wait as He is in the activity. It reminds me most that we are all waiting for Christ to return so our redemption is complete. We are all waiting so there will be no more sickness, no more pain, no more death, and no more ungodly rulers for Jesus will reign perfectly. Sometimes God gives me glimpses of what He is doing during the waits, but other times the waits remain a mystery--a mystery with benefits--the benefit of transformation, of purification, of healing, of a growing faith, and a deeper sense of God's relational presence in our lives.

*the Sacred echo, Margaret Feinberg, (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan, 2008)

Surviving a Culture Full of Counterfeits

One of our teaching pastors, Brent Van Elswyk, recently taught a sermon on marriage. It was so full of truth and insight that it has taken me over a week to get up the courage to begin to process some of what he said in the sermon. I encourage you to listen to his sermon by clicking on the link below. A lot of what I will share in this post is from his sermon.

Lately I have been wrestling with how to live, as a believer in this non-Christian culture we live in. I know I am to speak the truth, but I have been convicted that I am to speak it in a way that makes it palatable. I want to be sure when someone rejects the gospel, that they are rejecting the gospel itself, not my presentation of it. I have also felt some confusion about I am to speak the truth and show grace at the same time. After hearing the pastor's sermon I've come to a couple of conclusions that I have relieved me of some anxiety. First, speaking the truth and showing grace aren't mutually exclusive; they actually go hand in hand. Jesus modeled this through out the gospels. The only people He ever spoke harshly to, were religious leaders who pretended they were something they weren't and who were placing on others a works salvation that could not save.

The second conclusion I came to was that the ability to do both things simultaneously flows naturally from a deep, personal relationship with Jesus. Having an intimate relationship with Jesus requires  I fully understanding the depth of my sin and my need of His lavish grace. It requires that I embrace the fact of His all-consuming, sacrificial love and His payment for my sin. The more time I spend with Him, the more His character and nature "rubs off" on me, allowing me to bear more and more of His image. When I was thinking about what His image looks like I settled on John 1:14, "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth." As I become more intimately acquainted with the Savior, I'll be filled with His truth and with His grace.

God's creation and design of marriage is a good place to illustrate how living in an ungodly culture plays out. Marriage was established and designed by God on the sixth day of Creation. In Genesis 1:26 God said, "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness." Notice the pluralistic language--it is referring to the trinity, revealing relationship of the triune God who exists in three persons and, yet, is One. God then paraded animals in front of Adam, awakening in him the desire for a horizontal relationship. He created Eve from Adam's rib. They were the same, but they were  also very different. One was male and one was female, not accidentally, but by God's design. Together they reflected an even more complete picture of God as image bearers. This is because their relationship was designed to reflect the relationship of the trinity. Right away marriage was established between the two. Genesis 2:24-25 states: "Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh. And the man and his wife were both naked and were not ashamed." They had an intimate satisfying relationship between them and with their Creator and their sexual union sealed the covenant of marriage, providing an intimate bonding, giving them pleasure, and giving them the ability to procreate.

But along came the deceiver. A sneaky of snake who was seeking to destroy what God designed. He came and essentially offered them a counterfeit religion. He did this by casting doubt on God's provisions and God's character. He did this by causing them to doubt their identity as God's image bearers, promising something better that he wasn't even capable of giving. Third, he deceived them into thinking there would be no consequences for the choices they made. Oh, the Serpent--he lured them in with his deceit. Deceived, they took his bait. Discontentment rose up in their hearts and they beheld the God-forbidden fruit and desire gave way to prideful entitlement. And they chose the counterfeit and ate.

They were immediately filled with shame and made clothes in an attempt to hide it. But leaves don't have the power to dissolve shame that wells up, causing a fear of exposure. Leaves don't have the power to clean away the stench of sin and the pride that burns within. Leaves don't have the power to resurrect spirit that has died. Leaves don't have the power to redeem.  

Ever since the fall, Satan has offered us all sorts of counterfeits. He has done this by trying to get us to redefine what God has designed. Sexual identity was designed and imprinted into each being by the Creator. Now the enemy is convincing people it is a fluid thing that and one can choose. He is convincing people to redefine marriage using a variety of counterfeits--counterfeits like common-law marriage that has no covenant to protect it, serial marriage in which people repeatedly marry and divorce, same sex marriages that don't have the ability to procreate, polygamy where a man has multiple wives, and there is even suggestion that marriage to children is the way to find happiness. Satan has even offered counterfeits of the sexual act itself. There is premarital sex, extramarital sex, hooking up, pornography, sexual abuse, rape, and sex trafficking. Satan claims sex is no big deal and solely for human pleasure. But any abuse survivor, including this one, will testify that sexual abuse isn't just a physical touch. Its a touch that runs deep all the way to the heart where the spirit and the soul reside. Sex was designed by God to be the "crazy glue" that bonds a man and a woman together. It is the union of two bodies that literally binds souls together.

Brent shared that there are three purposes in marriage. First, marriage was to reflect the relationship Christ has with the church. It is a relationship of choice, entered through a covenant, and sealed by a sexual union. In that covenant we see illustrations of commitment, faithfulness, service, and sacrificial love. In marriage we have the opportunity to make the invisible love of God visible. We have the opportunity to make the invisible commitment of faithfulness of God visible. We have the opportunity to make the relational aspect of God's character visible. God's design of marriage allows us to experience and display the image of God.

Second, marriage is an opportunity to display the gospel of grace. It is an intimate, vulnerable relationship between two people. Because of this our sin, our shame, our wounds, and our selfishness surface, revealing a deep need of grace, forgiveness, and unconditional love. This is played out as each grows to be like Jesus and learns to give love, to serve, to extend grace daily, and to forgive when it is needed. This exposure of our sin and need for grace is an iron sharpening iron process that causes growth and develops His character in us. God's grace is made visible when two people learn to extend grace to each other. His character is visible when they choose to serve when they would rather be served. It is visible when they choose to love when they might feel like hating. It is visible when they show respect when everything in them wants to be disrespectful. It is visible when they forgive when they want to hold a grudge. It is visible when unkindness is repaid with kindness.

Third, marriage is designed to give us a glimpse of heaven. This is hard to believe because we are such broken people and we love so imperfectly. Yet when there is obedience to God's design and each is owning their responsibility to love, to extend grace, to build the other up, and to bond through a sexual union their are huge rewards. These rewards consists of moments of joy, satisfaction, and a sense of fulfillment for which we were created. The shared glimpses of God-painted sunsets a couple enjoys, the bonding experience that takes place through the sexual union, the joy of unmerited kindnesses received, the satisfaction of serving another, the depth of intimacy achieved when our messy sinful selves are exposed and grace is given, the miracle of a new life conceived that bears the image of both parents as well of God, the comfort of a relationship that feels familiar, the risk of passion given, and the freedom of not hiding--these all portray glimpses of heaven and the future fulfillment of our love with Jesus.

So, the question we must ask as believers is, "How do we survive living in a culture full of counterfeits?"  First, we commit to going to the word to become familiar enough with the truth that we can recognize the counterfeits Satan is offering. We commit to courageously speaking the truth. Counterfeits create confusion and they devalue the real thing. Marriage was designed to tell a love story between God and His people. But, that design broke down during the fall. As a result, people have been deceived and wounded by counterfeits, not God's original design. We, as believers who are committed to the truth, can teach the truth both verbally and by example. We need to speak the truth! However, we need to do so with compassion. As transparent believers our sinfulness, brokenness, and shame are exposed. We will be more effective image bearers if we bathe our truth in compassion, recognizing that at the fall marriage became more about power and control than serving, more about personal gratification than glorifying God, more about lust than love. Counterfeits are nothing more than false promises that can't be fulfilled. They will never satisfy, they will only create deeper thirst that feels unquenchable. People need the truth, but it needs to be bathed in compassion because counterfeits always leave people wounded. Only God can satisfy the deepest needs of human hearts, not redefined sex, not redefined marriage, not reassigned genders.  

Lastly, we need to realize our culture is no different from Jesus' culture. Believers in His day spoke the Truth and both the message and the messengers were hated. They were imprisoned, tortured, burned at the stake, fed to lions, and crucified. Yet, their message prevailed, not through politics, governments, or armies but by the courageous power displayed in their spoken words. It takes courage and compassion to expose counterfeits to those deceived. It is not a task for the faint of heart. It takes a lot of love to be motivated to courageously and compassionately join God's work of exposing the counterfeits of darkness and extending His love and His grace through the gospel.  

If you enjoyed this post, you may also enjoy the Returning to the Beginning @ www.wendymahill.com

http://www.riverlakeschurch.org/index.php/watch-and-listen/sermons/wisdom-and-marriage 

Sports Cars can't Hone

"Iron sharpens iron, and one mans sharpens another."

Proverbs 27:17

The other night my husband and I were watching TV and a restaurant commercial came on. This company has used sex for several years to sell hamburgers. My husband surprised me by saying rather assertively, "And that is why I never go there!" His statement lead to a fun discussion about commercials.

We both agreed that companies that use sex to sell, aren't very creative. It is the easy go to, and probably works. We both admitted to liking humorous commercials, especially ones that contain spunky people in them. We also acknowledged that sentimental commercials usually keep us engaged and get an, "Awe...." from both of us. On a side note, I especially have a fondness for Hallmark commercials. It isn't because I necessarily like them. I typically think them a bit mushy, but they were the best pregnancy test on the market when I was having my babies. Before I would even know I was pregnant one of those commercials would come on TV and I would dissolve into tears. When the tears came, my husband would turn and look at me with big eyes and I would know, it was time to buy a pregnancy test. Every time it happened I was pregnant
.
We noticed that over the years we liked commercials that portrayed the life stage we were currently in. As newly weds, commercials that showed engagements, weddings, or honey mooning couples appealed to us. A few years into marriage a coffee company put out a series of commercials about a couple who met over coffee and built a relationship. The series of commercials told the couple's love story over time. We both would stop what we were doing to watch those commercials when new ones came out. As we started having kids, commercials with cute kids  in them made us smile. After all who wouldn't be drawn to dancing kids or toddlers toddling in green socks? Then as our kids were leaving home the one commercial we both liked was a coffee commercial. A sister wakes up early to her big brother coming home for Christmas. They enjoy a quiet moment before mom and dad smell the coffee and come running down. Then when our sons went to war, any commercial with military families in it would tug on our hearts. Now it is the grandchildren and puppy commercials drawing our attention. 

After the conversation with my husband, I have been thinking about the science commercial making.  I am not against commercials. They serve a purpose in our economic world. Some are informative, some remind me I need to write something on the grocery list, and some help me decide to try a new product when I am not happy with one I am using. We also all know that many commercial are very misleading or full of lies.

The people who create commercials will make commercials that appeal to our senses, our emotions, or our desires. As a believer I was struck that the tactics they use are similar to the tactics of the Enemy listed in 1 John 2:16--the desires of the flesh, the desires of the eyes, and the pride of life. It didn't really surprise me in that we are ambassadors living in a world system in which the Enemy is very active. I think we could categorize commercial by these tactics and become wiser consumers. 

Recently I saw a commercial that evoked a strong angry response from me and it wasn't even a commercial using sex to sell. It was a car commercial that started out like the sentimental commercials I like. It showed all the cars a couple bought over the years for the different life stages they were in. Towards the end of the commercial the dad handed his car keys over to his daughter and she pulled out of the driveway. The camera then switched over to the dad pulling out of the garage in a little sports car with the commentator saying, "And the car that reminds you of you when you were you."

I admit they initially sucked me in, as we had to change cars several times as our family grew large. I even admit I initially lit up when I saw the sports car. I have wanted a red convertible sports car every since I was fifteen. In my mind, I pictured my hair blowing, the warm sun on my face, loud praise music playing as I sped over mountain curves. But I got married and we chose to put my husband through six years of graduate school. Then came five kids. A sports care wasn't financially feasible on a graduate students salary or very practical for a large family. And the reality is with a mild case of PTSD being in any car, much less a sports car with wind in my face isn't really fun for me. Not ever getting the sports car isn't what made me angry at the commercial; it was the lie that is in embedded in the comment that was made as the man drove off.

For you see, as a math major I could have gone on to graduate school and made quite a bit of money and gotten that little red sports car I thought I wanted at the time. But I chose marriage and marriage didn't make me less me. In fact, marriage brought out the best of me and the worst of me. It brought out in me a heart full of compassion and love for a man who had a very difficult childhood and who was told he wouldn't amount to much. Yet we got through school together and he graduated as Dr. Daddy, partly because I believed in him. When ever we hit rough spots in our marriage I look at his childhood pictures and remind myself that I am married to that cute little guy in coveralls and my pride melts and my love grows.

Being married exposed the ugly selfishness residing in my heart and my tendency to be self-centered. We both had to learn a lot about compromise and learning to set goals together. We had to learn to look at ourselves when conflict arose, because the other wasn't capable of making us angry, it was his selfishness bumping against my selfishness that did that. Nope, neither of us became less of ourselves, we became better selves because of what our relationship exposed and the lessons we learned from that exposure. I learned that a soft answer could truly turn away wrath, that love covered a multitude of sins, that grace is experienced the most in intimate relationships, and that some of the best confrontations are gentle ones. Marriage was that iron sharpening iron that God talks about in His word! I needed it badly!

By the time kids came along, I thought we had grown quite a bit and life would be smooth sailing. I was mistaken. I found having five kids did the same thing marriage did--it brought out the best in me and exposed the worst parts of me. I never felt more like who I was supposed to me than when I was pregnant and carried a moving being inside. I would sit for hours and watch the movements and connect with feet and fists. I have never been able to find words to describe how full of love my heart was and is when it comes to my kids (and my grandkids.) That love gave me what I needed to get up all night with crying kids, wipe snotty noses, clean stinky bottoms, wash away blood from wounds, scrub dirty bathrooms when little guys missed the pot, cook countless dinners, wash sink loads of dishes, wash and fold mountains of laundry, pray over sick children, referee squabbles, listen to endless chatter, hold kids with ear aches and asthma all night, and sit by a hospital bed for two weeks,

But it also brought out the worst in me. The time that a knick knack got broken and brought out my wrath. The times the angry voice came out of my mouth and lectured kids who couldn't even process all those words I thought I needed to say, The times I asked the kids how their day at school went and realized when I pulled into the drive way that I had tuned them out as they told me. The banquets I missed as I isolated myself due in the midst of an eating disorder. Believe me, I could go on and on and on. Having kids didn't make me less me. It exposed the ugly parts of me that needed to be transformed. It exposed the immature parts of me that needed to grow. Being a mom did not make me less of me, it made me more of who God created me to be. Having a sports car earlier in life would not have helped me be more of me. Having sports car now would not make me more me! A sports car could not do for me what being married and having children did. I confess I needed the iron sharpening iron of relationships to grow and become a better me and I needed all the grace I could get in that process.

The line in the commercial bothered me because our society is plagued by broken families. The kinds of statements in that commercial appeal to our pride and resemble the temptation in the garden that implies so subtly that something is missing if we don't have something. In my eyes, there is nothing more manly than a married man loving his wife with his words, his actions, and his sacrifice. There is nothing more manly than a man playing with his children, praying faithfully for them, disciplining them with love, and giving grace when they need it most. There is nothing more manly than a man who is worn out and feeling inadequate who wants to leave, but chooses to stay. And there is nothing more beautiful than a wife who respects her man. There is nothing more beautiful than a mom feeding a baby from her body. There is nothing more beautiful than a mom rocking a sick toddler all night long. There is nothing more beautiful than a mom taking her son on a dinner date. There is nothing more beautiful than a mom dancing with her daughter as if no one is watching. There is nothing more beautiful than a mom graciously cleaning up milk spilt by two brothers proving strength in an arm wrestling match. There is nothing more beautiful than a mom hugging a child who was dumped by the boy or girl who didn't deserve them any way. There is nothing more beautiful than a worn out mom who is tempted to run from the chaos of family, choosing to stay. Nothing! That is the stuff that real men and women are made of. They push through fear and selfishness and embrace the iron sharpening iron process. I am, I have always been, and I will always be fully me!

Take note car company. You might have sucked me in had you not ended the commercial on that note!