My Lesson Continues

Perhaps it’s because I’m incredibly slow, or perhaps it’s because God is extremely determined and patient, but for whatever reason, I’ve been stuck on the same life lesson for going on two years now.  So stuck in fact, that I named this crazy blog for it.  This afternoon I sit in a rare moment of alone time in quiet thankfulness that God will not allow me to miss this lesson, regardless of my stubborn, selfish heart.

Throughout the pain of my separation from vocational ministry I have continued to serve in small capacities in the church.  Quite honestly this has led to more frustration than joy in most cases, but admittedly that is usually self-induced.  This morning I awoke at 6:45 am so I could volunteer during the morning service.  I couldn’t resist the urge to remind myself that this is the same time I wake for work every other morning of the week and it would have been really nice to stay in bed an extra hour or so.  (How quickly I’ve forgotten the 5am Sunday morning wake up calls from the ministry years…)  I rounded up my 12 year old and we hurried out the door so we could make it in time for the 8:00 rehearsal.  I arrived with a terrible attitude.

My attitude began to get adjusted though when a teenage boy met my bad attitude with his own attitude of humility and grace.  Ouch.  I did a quick 180 and apologized to God & the couple of people unfortunate enough to have talked to me.

Ironically, the service was about being with Jesus versus working for Jesus.  And I can say that the service was about this, because it was.  Everything from the music to the prayers to the message wove itself into a seamless package of resting in the love of Jesus – and I needed the reminder.   It used to be MY job to put the service together.  I was responsible for choosing the songs and art that would enhance the message and it was MY job to make sure it all happened flawlessly.  I loved that job, especially the moments when all of the pieces of something that had been planned weeks before fell into place on Sunday morning and it spoke to someone.  This morning that moment happened and it spoke to me.  I didn’t plan it or orchestrate it, but the precious volunteer standing next to me did, and in that instant I felt both grateful and envious at the same time.   I miss those momentary gifts so much, and yet I’m thankful that they’ve been handed to someone else, because it’s part of my lesson.

Although my bad attitude this morning may not have reflected it (chalk it up to the fact that I am NOT a morning person…), the lesson has not been totally lost on me.  I am learning that there is freedom and liberation in Jesus.  I’m really learning that.  I don’t have to work to earn His favor, and when I start to try now, He smacks me down really fast.

How blessed are we to have a God that loves us this much???  I’m convinced that it is far too great a concept for most of us (especially the type A’s) to grasp, and so we will forever fight the temptation to earn our way or to at least repay the debt somehow, which when you think about it, is pretty ridiculous.   I’m sitting here today overwhelmed by Love.  Overwhelmed by the red letters I’ve been reading.  Overwhelmed by grace.

And I’m sitting here with an overwhelming desire to serve Him out of sheer love.  Unforced.  Rhythms. of. Grace.    Thanks Jesus.

 

 

 

And God Spoke

I know it will sound melodramatic, but I experienced a defining moment this week.  I attended a Christian Leadership Conference called Catalyst.  But unlike in years past, I didn’t attend it as a member of a group or a church staff.  Instead, I attended just because I wanted to along with my friend Bethany.

Although I’d become skeptical if I’d ever really hear from God again, I prayed that He would speak somehow through this conference – and He did.

He spoke through the words of Andy Stanley:  “Do I live my life wondering who’s for me or against me, or do I live my life because of who I’m for.”

And through Jessica Jackley: “We need to view people as people, not as projects.”

And through Malcolm Gladwell:  “Humility is the willingness to listen to others.”

He spoke through Bethany when she told me, “You need to take a month and fast from guilt.”

Through Tony Dungy:  “I don’t want to just produce good football players, I want to contribute to producing good men.”

And then He started talking louder…

Through Rob Bell:  “Sometimes God says, ‘Do this.”  and then He says ‘now do this.’ and then He says ‘now do this.’” – which may not make much sense out of context, but it made all the sense in the world to me and started to help me with that fast a little.

Through Chuck Swindoll:  “God takes full responsibility for the life fully devoted to Him.”

And then He started yelling:

Through the song lyrics from Aaron Keyes:  “You’re not guilty anymore, you’re not filthy anymore,  I love you, mercy is yours. You’re not broken anymore, you’re not captive anymore,  I love you, mercy is yours.”

And finally through Louie Giglio:  “Whatever we desire most is what we strive for.  We should be striving for nothing more than simply seeing the Face of Christ.”

I know that these things seem random, but I have to document them because I don’t ever want to forget how clearly He spoke to me.  I don’t ever want to forget the feeling of peace and freedom that I finally decided to embrace.  I want to begin living my life with gratitude for all He has given and keeps giving me – both the easy and the difficult, because it’s all good.  I want to quit worrying so much about what I should be doing and instead concentrate on the tape at the end of the race “the Face of Jesus”.

 

God Fear

I’ve always been a little confused by the term “God fearing Christian”.  I suppose that it refers to someone who lives their life “by the Book” because they’re afraid of catching the wrath of God if they mess up.  I guess that works if trying to motivate an army of rule following Christian Soldiers to march Onward, but being scared of my Heavenly Father seems a little sad to me.  Tonight though, I think I may have gotten a handle on this term.

I was talking with a friend and admitted to her that lately I’ve been reluctant to open my Bible because I’m scared of what I’ll read.  That wasn’t just a casual statement either.  I truly have been afraid of what He might speak to me through His Word.  So it hit me.  I fear God.  I don’t fear Him in the sense of worrying that He’s going to punish me for doing something wrong.  I fear Him because I know His ways are not my ways, and I don’t like not getting my way.  I fear Him because I know that He sometimes tells me to do things I don’t want to do or points out things I shouldn’t have done.  I fear Him because surrender is scary.

I guess I am a God-fearing Christian now.    I hope I can overcome my fear enough to listen anyway.

 

God = Love

I was talking to a good friend last night & made the comment that I feel like my soul is drying up.  I’ve been in  one of those seasons where God seems to be silent.  Things aren’t bad or anything, but the drudgery of everyday has begun to overtake the wonder of God in my life.  Even in the midst of such a season I know that balance is wrong.

After that conversation I got back to working on a little sermon that I was to present tonight.  I had decided a few days ago that I would talk about love, since I would be presenting this to inmates and I was sure they’d need to hear it.  How very wise of me, huh?  Of course, in the midst of my preparations God began to work on me instead, because it seems I am actually the one who needed to hear it first.

I read through 1 Corinthians 13 for probably the billionth time in my life, but something dawned on me as I read it.  God is Love.  Hmmm…. So I began to substitute His Name for the word love in the chapter and immediately my heart began to soften & I realized how incredibly blessed I am to serve and be loved by Love Himself.  When I got to the verse “Love (God) keeps no record of wrongs” I felt a lump in my throat.  I’ve been beating myself up pretty good lately for what I perceive to be failures, and I can’t seem to let the little stuff go.  But God keeps no record of wrongs.  Think about that.  No record.  Hard to wrap my brain around.  Totally contrary to what the world has taught me for 38+ years.

After a night of praying and thinking on what I had read (followed by some good sleep) I went to church this morning.  Following the sermon someone sang one of my favorite songs with the line “And I don’t know what to do with a Love like that, and I don’t know how to be a Love like that.”  God broke His silence this weekend, or maybe I just decided to start listening again.

I want to be a Love like that.  I don’t want to be self-seeking or easily angered.  I want to keep no record of wrongs.  I want to be patient and kind.  I think it’s so cool that God works in circles.  We have to accept His love in order to fully realize how to give it.  But sometimes we have to give it before we can accept it.

I sat in a cold, sterile jail tonight reading the Love Chapter to a room full of women with their eyes closed and heads bowed.  I substituted God’s name for the word Love and I repeated over & over again “God keeps no record of wrongs.”  There was complete silence except for a few quiet sobs.  We sang a few songs after the teaching time and I was blown away as the women sang “how GREAT is our God!” at the top of their lungs – some with hands in the air and tears streaming.   Love.  God.  Beautiful.

I think my balance has been restored.  I am once again in awe of this amazing God and the unfathomable love He has for us.  How can I possibly view the gift of life as drudgery?  It’s an adventure of loving and being loved.

 

Bad Day for a Bird

I know I write a lot about perspective.  I continually need it though.  I think we all do.  I got another taste of it today.

On my way to a training session for work today, about a 45 minute drive from home, it was extremely foggy.  As I approached the new stop light at the bypass highway I thought to myself  “someone will run this light today” because I literally couldn’t see it until I was right in front of it.  I passed on through without any problems and continued on.

A while later as I drove further up the highway a bird decided to fly right into my path.  In all my years of driving this is the first time that has happened.  It startled me, and it was gross, but it didn’t bust or even crack my windshield, so I assumed it was just an unfortunate turn of events for the bird.  When I got to work, however, I took a look at my hood and realized there were scratches all over it.  Bad scratches.  The hood will need to be repainted scratches.  I was really upset about this because I just had the hood & most of the front of my car replaced a few months ago after ice fell on it from a roof.

After lunch a co-worker told me to come in his office so he could show me something.  He had printed a story from the local newspaper.  There was a picture of a car – almost identical to mine – that was completely demolished.  It had been hit on that highway bypass by a semi that ran the light – just minutes after I safely passed through the intersection.  Remarkably, the driver’s injuries were minor, but that fact is nothing short of miraculous given the condition of her car.  Apparently my co-workers back home heard about the accident and assumed that I had been the driver.  I so could have been.  But instead I spent the morning whining about some scratches on my hood.  They don’t seem so bad now.

 

A Softened Heart…

I was reminded again today about the power of art.

Once upon a time I had this job.  Every day I went to work and I searched for ways to soften people’s hearts.   I would wade my way through scores of CD’s and movies and videos and books.  I would immerse myself in Scripture and pray for God to show me just the right medium for each and every moment I was helping to create.  And He did.  In the process of looking for ways to soften the hearts of others, mine became soft too.  I saw beauty in things I’d overlooked before and I gave people the benefit of the doubt more.  My first impulse was to love rather than doubt and although at times it bit me, my wounds healed pretty quickly.

For the past year or so I’ve had a different job.  It’s a good job and I like it, but instead of purposefully surrounding myself with art, I’m surrounded instead with numbers.  It’s been a subtle change I guess and I don’t think I fully realized it until today.

I was sitting in church and after a particularly touching prayer, the band began playing a song I’m familiar with – one with personal significance to me.  I’ve heard the song a hundred times, but this time three little dancers came on the stage and interpreted the lyrics with their movement as the lights dimmed and a light haze surrounded them.  I felt the tears come bubbling up and that’s when it hit me – my heart has become hardened.  And this moment that someone else prayed for and planned for was softening it.

Art is a funny thing.  It’s sort of like oxygen.  You don’t really think about it until it’s not there anymore.  But without it I think we all become hardened and cold.  I believe that Art is God’s love language to us, and when we ignore it we cease to hear Him quite as clearly as He’d like.

So this week I will become intentional once again about listening to God through His creation.  I will make time to soak in a song.  I will read a good novel and I will create something myself too.

Thank you to all the people who create the things that move my heart in ways that I am incapable of expressing myself.  Thank you to my GOD who knows how much I need them.

 

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