A Full Heart

Tomorrow is July 1st.  This is Southern Indiana.  The temperature and humidity should be sweltering and miserable, but they are anything but.  The past three days have been unseasonably cool and pleasant after the first tastes of the summer that we normally sweat through.

So last night I took a long walk.  I left the dogs behind and took my iPod instead.  I listened to some great songs that I’d all but forgotten – songs about God and His greatness and glory and compassion and mercy and might.  I listened to them as the cool breeze blew against my face and as I gazed at a sky that was breathtaking – literally.  The blues were the bluest blue and the sun made the edges of each cloud so clear and sharp that I wanted to reach up and touch them.  I walked until the sun had completely set and watched the blues turn to oranges and yellows and purples and back to deep dark blue again.  My mind was racing and my heart was on overload.

As I got closer to my house I felt great big tears coming to my eyes.  They took me by surprise and all I could do was just say “Thank You.  Thank You.”  I don’t know if I could ever fully articulate why I was thanking Him.  I don’t know if words are enough for that.

I was thanking Him for caring so much for me that He would take away something that I loved so I would grow to love Him more.  I was thanking Him for His mystery and for the fact that He is infinite and I will never, ever have to worry about not being able to know Him more the next day.  I was thanking Him for the beauty of His creation and for the fact that it is only a taste of what is to come.  I was thanking Him for breaking my heart for what breaks His.

When I got home I was a little sad.  I guess I was sad that the walk had to end, but beyond that I was sad that I couldn’t fully express what had just filled my soul.  I think it was one of those times that can only be FULLY expressed through art – the one thing that transcends mere words.

I feel sometimes like I am a creative soul trapped inside an uncreative mind,  which leaves me a bit conflicted in moments like last night.  But I’ll take heart in the fact that He can see past my mind and into the soul that has gotten lost inside it.  How cool will it be when we all will be able to paint and dance and write and sing our gratitude and praises to Him forever?  Until then – I’ll lean on His Word:

“The Lord is righteous in all his ways and loving toward all he has made.  The Lord is near to all who call on him, to all who call on him in truth.  He fulfills the desires of those who fear him; he hears their cry and saves them.  The Lord watches over all who love him, but all the wicked he will destroy.  My mouth will speak in praise of the Lord.  Let every creature praise his holy name for ever and ever.”  Psalm 145:17-21

 

Worth

I’m feeling particularly grateful today for a God who loves and values me – no matter what.

I learned of the deaths of three people yesterday.

Around mid-afternoon I heard on the local radio news that a second young boy had died as a result of severe burns suffered just weeks ago.  His brother passed away from his injuries just days ago as well.  The boy was only eleven – the same age as my son.  My heart ached for this family and the unimaginable pain they have had to endure.

Moments later the national news came on the radio and announced the death of Farrah Faucet.  Her public battle with cancer had captured the attention of many in recent months, as those who had grown up with her on their TV’s and locker doors now watched her fight to stay alive.

While I was cooking dinner last night I turned on the evening news, only to learn of Michael Jackson’s sudden death.  I stopped in my tracks and listened and couldn’t believe what I heard.  The news anchor said something like this: “We were going to begin tonight’s broadcast with a story about the passing of Farrah Faucet.  But we just learned that there has been an even more tragic death of an American icon.”  Maybe it’s just me, but if I was a loved one of Farrah, I think that might have felt a little like salt in a freshly burning wound.

Thirty minutes of the news frenzy was all I could handle.  I opted to watch the NBA Draft instead.  But sadly, it wasn’t much different.  These talented guys were being unabashedly compared to one another and those before them and were being numbered and labeled and SOLD and TRADED.  The whole process is really disgusting when you think about it.

This was all  fresh on my mind today.  I know this is how the world works.  We categorize and judge.  We reward the winners and we forget about the losers.  It starts in the sandbox, escalates in high school and explodes in the workplace.  It has been the song of the ages and will continue for decades to come.  In this world.

Which brings me back to grateful.  Because THIS world is temporary.  But our God is eternal and He sees value and worth in all of us.  His love is not dependent upon how well we perform or how famous we are.  I believe God’s heart broke just as much for the burn victim as it did for the Pop Icon, and I wonder if  it doesn’t break each time we choose the world’s opinion of our worth instead of His.

 

1 John

God’s Word is simply amazing.  The challenge it presented to me today:

“God is love.  When we take up permanent residence in a life of love, we live in God and God lives in us.  This way, love has the run of the house, becomes at home and mature in us, so that we’re free of worry on Judgment Day – our standing in the world is identical with Christ’s.  There is no room in love for fear.  Well formed love banishes fear.  Since fear is crippling, a fearful life – fear of death, fear of judgment – is one not yet fully formed in love.

We, though, are going to love – love and be loved.  First we were loved, now we love.  He loved us first.

If anyone boasts, ‘I love God,’ and goes right on hating his brother or sister, thinking nothing of it, he is a liar.  If he won’t love the person he can see, how can he love the God he can’t see?  The command we have from Christ is blunt:  Loving God includes loving people.  You’ve got to love both.” 1 John 4:17-21 MSG

There is so much packed in that tiny little passage it will take me weeks to absorb.  Some of the most thought-provoking lines:

God lives in us.

There is no room in love for fear.

He loved us first.

Loving God includes loving people.

I fail at this most of the time.  I don’t want to try to love others so that God will love me.  I want to naturally love others BECAUSE God loves me.  There is such a difference, and I know people can spot it a mile away.  I want to live a life “fully formed in love”.   But most of the time I’m just trying.  Does anyone else feel this way, or is it just me???   I’d love to hear some thoughts…

 

Daisies

“Therefore, brothers, we have an obligation – but it is not to the sinful nature, to live according to it.  For if you live according to the sinful nature, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live, because those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God.  For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of sonship.  And by him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’”  Romans 8:12-15 NIV

I’ve been wrestling with this word “obligation” lately.  I don’t like it.  At least in the context of a relationship with Christ I don’t.  I had a healthy debate with a good friend about it this morning.  He argued that we are obligated to serve God because of what Christ did for us.  Here’s why I sort of disagree…

Webster’s definition: something by which a person is bound or obliged to do, and which arises out of a sense of duty or results from custom, law, etc.  OR a debt of gratitude.

Scriptures promise us that we are “sons of God”.  He is our Father.  If I compare this scenario to my own parent/son relationship it doesn’t really add up.

A couple of weeks ago Ethan really wanted a new game on the computer.  He asked & asked until I finally gave in and paid for part of it for him.  Later that evening he put my supper dishes in the sink and took his shower without being asked.  It was really nice having an agreeable son for a change, but I knew why he was doing it.  He felt obligated and was paying his debt of gratitude.  Apparently the debt was paid by morning since things went quickly back to normal.

Contrast that with a couple of weeks earlier.  Out of the clear blue sky, for absolutely no particular reason he comes to me with a big handful of wild daises – beaming.  He told me they were for me because he knows they’re my favorite.  No obligation.  No gratitude.  Simply a  genuine act of love.

Can you guess which one meant more to me?

For years of my life I served out of a sense of obligation.  Jesus died on a cross for me.  That’s a pretty big debt of gratitude to repay.  And that’s what good little Christians are supposed to do.  Serve here.  Give there.    AND – don’t go here.  Don’t go there.

The Church takes obligation and runs with it.  It gets bills paid and volunteer rosters filled up.  Tack on a little guilt and you might even get a new wing on the building.  But there is a problem with this system.  We can never ever serve or give enough to pay that kind of debt.  Never.  God knew that didn’t He?  Isn’t that why we’re told that our debt has been paid?  Isn’t that why Jesus died on the cross in the first place?

But the passage says “brothers, we have an obligation…”  and we do.  We have an obligation to live a life of freedom, because Jesus paid an awful lot for it.  And when we embrace that gift and truly comprehend it, we will ACHE to serve and give.  Genuine acts of love.

Obligation has led the Church to great acts of service and love and redemption over the centuries.  But I wonder if the acts of service, love and redemption that have been chosen through freedom don’t mean a little bit more to our Father.

“So don’t you see that we don’t owe this old do-it-yourself life one red cent.  There’s nothing in it for us, nothing at all.  The best thing to do is give it a decent burial and get on with your new life.  God’s Spirit beckons.  There are things to do and places to go!  This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life.  It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with a childlike “What’s next, Papa?’”  Romans 8:12-15 MSG

 

Ouch.

Ever hear one of those sermons that hits you so hard that it’s painful to listen to?  That’s how I spent my afternoon.  And I listened to not one, but two of them.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the importance I place on God.  Of course I say He’s important and all, but does my life show it?  Probably not as much as it should.  Ok – I know not as much as it should.  And I’ve been absolutely consumed for the past year and a half or so with whether or not I’m doing what I should be doing, blah, blah…

So sermon number one today was all about that.  It wasn’t a sermon really.  It was a two minute video.  But it preached.  Louie Giglio gets the credit.  He made the simple point that instead of asking God to place us in the center of His will that we should instead focus on keeping our eyes on Him.  I realized that my usual prayer is “God, please show me where you want me and put me there.” which sounds like a very righteous prayer until you hear the other unspoken half (that God hears) that says “…because I really don’t want to do the hard work of keeping my eyes on you all of the time.  I’d much rather you just pick me up and put me somewhere.  Yeah.  That’d be a lot easier.”

The second sermon was courtesy of Francis Chan.  He was speaking on the love of self and I realized that I love myself a little bit too much.  He described self-loving people as those who are so focused on their own problems that they can’t see anything else.  These people would much rather talk than listen.  And…that would be me too.

So my first impulse was to call a bunch of people and apologize for being so self-loving and stupid, until I realized that I should probably just apologize to God and move forward with this new found revelation as my guide.

What would happen if all of us stopped worrying so much about our own selves and spent more time looking into the eyes of God?  My guess is that we would start seeing the reflections of the things that He sees and we would be moved to do something.

Giglio sums it up beautifully at the end of his video.  He says, “How can you make the wrong choice if in your heart what you really want to do is honor God?”   I think I should concentrate a little less on my choices and a lot more on honoring Him for a change.

 

James

My son is a deep thinker.  Of course I should probably know that by now, but most of my interactions with him involve a request/a denial/followed by a second request or defense of first request/followed by explanation of denial coupled with threat of punishment/followed by…you get the picture.

But last night I got out our Bibles and told him to sit down because we were going to start reading through the book of James.  We read the first chapter and it led to an amazing conversation about conviction, the Holy Spirit, gut feelings (aka the Holy Spirit most of the time), and politics – which was the most fun for me.  I couldn’t have been prouder with his conclusion after our discussion.  Following a conversation about government assistance programs and generations knowing only that and the fact that we are supposed to be taking care of widows and orphans and all – he looked at me with total understanding and said “Well, it sounds to me like if the Church would have been doing it’s job a long time ago that none of that would have ever been needed.”  Apparently being a Social Democrat is genetic.  I agreed with him of course and encouraged him to remember that, because he is now the future of the Church.  I do believe that his generation will have the power to change things – to get them back on track – but it will be a long and difficult process.  They will have to be strong and convicted and determined – all qualities that I know he possesses.  So after our conversation I have a renewed sense of hope, along with a renewed sense of responsibility to continue encouraging him to think about the world around him in relation to the God who loves him.  What a privilege.

 

Ow. Ow. Ow.

When I hit age 35 things shifted.  I’m not speaking metaphorically here – I’m talking physically shifted – to my middle.  What began as just a little pudge has over this past winter grown into a full blown roll all the way around my waistline and I can’t take it any longer.  There are only so many baby-doll tops a 38 year old woman should have in her closet.  So as undisciplined as I am, and as much as I despise exercise, I’ve decided to work it off.

For the past two weeks I’ve been walking/running (who am I kidding…walking mostly) and doing stomach crunches every single night.  (at least 10)  I’ve been eating a sensible, pretty much sugar free breakfast each morning, something sort of light for lunch and a decent dinner.  I’ve been avoiding junk and lots of sugar.  And tonight I remembered why I don’t usually do this.  Shin splints.  Ouch.  I always used to get them in high school.  I also got fluid on my knees every time I ran or walked very much.  So as I hobbled down the road with piercing pain in my legs a while ago I started dreaming up alternatives in my head:  Elliptical???  Honestly – I don’t even know what that is.  I just hear my very fit friends talk about it all the time.  I don’t have one and don’t have time to visit one, so strike one.  Swimming???  I can’t swim.  Strike two.  Lypo???  I hear it’s very expensive.  Strike three.

I plan to fight through the pain as long as I can.  I actually have noticed a difference in my belly.  In fact, I was feeling pretty good about myself until the 19 year old, blond, perfect size 1, 0% body fat intern started working in my office two days ago.  I know God has a sense of humor and all, but seriously, that’s just mean.

 

A Rainy Wednesday

I’m sitting here on a rainy Wednesday morning just reflecting and thinking a bit.  It’s one of those rare times when I have the house to myself – quiet except for the snoring cat behind me and the occasional car on the highway outside.  I’m listening to some of my favorite music, just after some reading & a little talk with God that continues.  Soon I’ll be off to start the rest of my day which will include a tiny step back into my not so distant past.

And all of this has got me thinking.  After months and months of contemplation and trying to figure out – I’ve come to this conclusion:  Sometimes I just feel like I feel.  Profound, I know.  But it is my truth, and I think it’s everyone’s truth really.  Sometimes we just feel like we feel.  It doesn’t matter what wise and well-meaning friends tell us or what we read or watch or listen to.  As wise and beautiful as all of those things may be – they lack the fundamental perspective into my life that is that special thing shared with only God – who I’m convinced is a major influence on how I feel.  Just as I cannot tell the people closest to me how they should feel, neither should I think they can do that for me.  I have a tendency to rely more on my friends and music and art than I do on God Himself – a result of my own insecurity – always worried that I will misread Him.

But on this rainy, quiet morning I wonder if I have over complicated God.  Maybe what I’ve been begging Him to make so clear to me has been clear all along and I just didn’t want to hear it because of all the baggage it brings.

I can sit in a room with my best friends and know with certainty what they’ve told me.  And this morning I’ve sat with the closest friend of all – and I think it’s time I listen to Him too.

 

Change Part 3

This is my last post in this series.  I guess I should wrap it all up with a pretty little bow, but life just doesn’t work that way.

Since Part 2 1/2 I’ve been reeling in the aftershock of change.  Anyone who has read my blog can tell that it has been a consuming part of my life for the past year.  Of course it has been difficult, but much good is coming from it – and that is how I want to end.

I’ve come to realize that God made us in His image – and He never changes.  I think that’s why we resist it so much.  The world around us, however, is in a constant state of change, and for us to pretend otherwise is at once ridiculous and unfortunate.  The curve balls of life are the very things that make it interesting.  Without them we would simply be writing a script and acting it out – always knowing how it ended and never needing to challenge ourselves to find the deeper meaning behind the characters and the dialogue.  If things never changed we would be boring and bored.  Not all changes are bad.  Some are.  All of them have the power to change us and it’s up to us to decide in which direction we let them push us.

Time has a way of making change make sense.  Distance and perspective can turn painful times into insightful revelations.  The problem is rarely with the changes in our past.  We all adjust eventually.  The problem is with the here and now – with how in the world we will make it through to the other side of the current upheaval.  With the doubts and the what ifs and the if onlys and the longing for how things used to be.  It’s funny that no matter how many times we make it through, that part never seems to get any easier.

A good friend pointed out to me recently that I’m not bad at change – I just take my time with it.  She’s right.  And the amount of time it takes me seems to be directly proportional to the weight of the particular circumstance.

I don’t have a formula or short-cut for working through the inevitable.  But I do have a God that has proved time and again that He does not and will not ever change.  He is the same yesterday, today and forever.  He formed me in my mother’s womb.  He knows exactly how I am wired and how stubborn and selfish I can be.  He knows that I like to be in control and He knows that when I’m comfortable that I forget how much I need Him.  So He doesn’t let me get comfortable.  No matter how hard I have tried to orchestrate my life into a finely tuned symphony, He has broken strings and reeds and given the horn section chapped lips.  He has redirected my symphony a million times and in the times I trust His direction and listen, the music is far more brilliant than any I could ever conduct.  I’m learning to appreciate every measure – even those in a minor key.

So for those of you in the midst of a life altering change – God bless you.  No matter how good or how bad you feel right now – that will change too.  You are in the midst of climbing to the next step of your life.  Turning the page to the next chapter.  Modulating to the next key.  This is just a tiny piece of the greater picture.  It doesn’t have to define you, but it can if you aren’t careful.  Allow yourself to experience it fully.  Don’t gloss over a single second of it.  Be grateful for the lesson and the beauty that it holds.

And for those of you who aren’t – pray for those who are.  And then buckle up, because your ride will begin soon.

 

Change – Part 2 1/2

It occurred to me as I began to write Part 3 that I can’t just write Part 3.  Part 3 is still very fresh and very raw and I have to be careful with it.  Part 3 is my present.  And for Part 3 to make any kind of sense to anyone besides myself and possibly three other people in the world, there just has to be another part in between.   So this is Part 2 1/2.

I’ve heard it said that if you truly love your job you’ll never have to work.  Few people get to actually experience that statement, but I did.

Around the middle of the year in 2000 I had begun to serve in my church as a volunteer.  I played the keyboard and sang on the Worship Team.  I loved it.  Our church had experienced a huge growth spurt and the spurt was quickly turning into an out of control explosion.  A new pastor had injected excitement, new life and hope into an already solid congregation and the combination resulted in a whirlwind of changes, building plans and new ministry teams.  One such ministry team was the Planning Team.  Its purpose was to design Sunday morning services from beginning to end.  I jumped on board and before I knew it I was leading it.  To say I loved this was an understatement.  It was the most perfect place for me.  It allowed me to be creative, explore art & music, do ministry and organize all at the same time.  After just a few months as the volunteer leader I was asked to join the staff.  I was excited and terrified at the same time.  To do this meant leaving a stable, secure bank job with benefits for an unstable, church job with no benefits.  It went against every grain of common sense I’d ever known and the decision process was grueling.  Eventually though, I couldn’t ignore what seemed so obvious.  God had led me to this moment in my life and I knew I had to trust Him and seize it.

The following years proved to dispel any doubts I once had.  The staff grew quickly, and once it was in place we looked around and saw this group of misfits that could have ONLY been brought together through divine intervention.  There was really no other explanation.  Only 3 had ministry degrees, and two of them had been fired.  The rest of us were a mix of bankers, teachers, salesmen, moms & factory workers – and I loved every single minute of it.  We experienced the most amazing things in the years we served together.  We saw life after life after life change for eternity before our very eyes.  We laughed, cried, celebrated and mourned together.  We supported one another loyally and fought with each other without apology.  We were experiencing something much greater than ourselves and we knew it.  It was scary and at times frustrating, but every single minute of it was worth it.  I worked harder in those years than I’ve ever worked in my life, but it didn’t feel like work.  I was so happy.  I was having a blast because I was right where I was supposed to be doing just what I was supposed to do.

The danger with good times of course, is that we begin to think they will always be good.  And when they become not good it causes things to change.  Inevitably that’s what happened.  I believe what made our staff team great was the fact that each of us filled just the right spot and what one lacked, another fulfilled.  The combination itself was what made it work, and to lose any one of the players would mess with the team.  But for various reasons that is exactly what happened.  One by one, beginning with the pastor himself, our team began to dismantle.  Each time someone left I felt like I was starting to “work” just a little bit more.  The chemistry was fading and the purpose was getting cloudy.  The church I loved so much was beginning to suffer from each change and I felt powerless to help.  The more I tried the more I seemed to cause even more hurt.  Before I knew it I found myself typing my own resume.

Losing my mom was excruciating.  Cancer was terrifying.  This was both. Not only was I mourning what I was losing, but I was scared to death of what the future held.