A Book Review and More

Yesterday I finished reading a book by Michael Horton, host of the White Horse Inn and author of numerous books, entitled "The Law of Perfect Freedom: Relating to God and Others Through the Ten Commandments".

In this book Horton devotes a chapter to each of the Ten Commandments and works through how they related to Israel and how they relate to us as believers today. Each chapter is more encouraging than the last, and so of course the last chapter "Good News for Law-breakers", was the pinnacle.

I am a law-breaker. Even after my conversion, I still struggle daily with sin. It crouches at my door and tempts me to give over. I struggle because I know God has given me a new heart. Shouldn't it want to obey? Yet there are times, and whole seasons, when I am prone to sin, and sin, and sin. I delight in it! Of course, these are never happy times in my life. The Holy Spirit won't let up, and God never stops pursuing my heart so that I will find delight in Him and His will. But still, those times are there, and it bothers me. I start to wonder "maybe I'm not redeemed. Maybe I'm like the Pharisees, or like those in Matthew who are shocked that they are not in Christ in light of their good works and efforts for the Kingdom".

Horton alleviates those fears. As a Christian, I need the Cross now just as much as I did when I was first converted. The same sovereign grace that saved me, sanctifies me. And sanctification isn't MY work, but the work of Christ for me, in me, and upon me. As I tremble before the Law, that perfect standard reflecting God's own righteousness, I know I will never measure up. I come to God, not because of any good thing I do, but because of Christ. I come as a beggar, asking Him to consider Christ's perfect substitutionary death for sins on my behalf, and His perfect life of obedience lived in my place. As Horton points out, I am DECLARED righteous in His sight, even when I am so...not.

This morning I opened my eyes, and do you know, I felt no guilt. No guilt for prayers left unsaid, or Bible readings neglected. I woke up free of condemnation from all that I have done or failed to do. I am free in Christ from all my sins and free to pursue my joy in God. I am free to serve and love and glorify Him. Not so that He will bless me, or love me, or accept me - He has done all that in Christ - but because that's who I am now. I am a new creature with a new heart and new desires and a new Destination.

I should know this stuff already, right? It's amazing the difference when it goes from your head to your heart. It's amazing when what you know becomes what you walk in by faith. Horton's book was a good reminder of many things I already knew, and a good instructor on many things that I didn't. Of course I know that I am a new creature in Christ, that the new has come and the old has passed, but I continue to learn and apply so many things about Christ's death and resurrection that I never knew or realized before. His cross is my one boast because, whether in salvation or sanctification, it accomplishes what I can't.

Soli Deo gloria!

Progress

To honestly confess your sin and failure brings one to the point of despair time and again. Where can we flee when we know that we are "nothing else but sin"? To see the depth of your sin is a wonderful thing though. It makes the Gospel so glorious.

Yesterday in church we sang a hymn that brought tears to my eyes. I try so hard to get it right instead of resting in the finished work of Christ. Such arrogance on my part, such blindness to the beauty of Christ, but there is forgiveness.

"Thy work alone, O Christ,
Can ease this weight of sin
Thy blood alone O Lamb of God,
Can give me peace within.
Thy love to me O God,
Not mine, O Lord, to Thee
Can rid me of this dark unrest
And set my spirit free!"

- "Not What My Hands Have Done" by Horatius Bonar

I am a slow learner when it comes to all that it means to be "in Christ", but by God's grace I continue the journey. Such sweet progress, however slowly, to such a glorious Destination.

Struggle

Lately I've been wondering how to struggle honestly. How much is too much to share? Let me break it down for you: I don't get a lot of social interaction here. Besides my church and work-related functions (trainings and Good News Clubs) there's not a lot going on. I miss interacting with people. I come from a big family and a really tightly-knit group of friends who I am use to seeing every single day. When I talk with them on the phone it's just not the same. I must communicate! And for that purpose this blog was created.

I love to write, and I love to write about my own experiences, and what God is teaching me through them. I realize this is a very public forum. I realize this even more when I get messages from people saying they really liked that blog post on such-and-such and I think "darn. What the heck did I write? Do I really want them knowing all that?", etc.

I don't know about you, but I like to hear about the struggles other people are going through in life. I suspect there is a little of a voyeuristic nature in each of us, but that's really not the reason I want to know about other people's experiences. I don't want to look down on them or exalt that I am so much better then they (although in my weaker moments I can admit that those Pharisaical thoughts can pop up), I want to know that other people struggle too. I want to know that everything doesn't come easily for them, because it sure doesn't come easily for me.

However, being honest about your struggles can really open you up for some nasty consequences. After a particularly gut-wrenching blog post you start to wonder "I wonder what so-and-so thinks about me now? Do I measure up? Have I ruined their "good" opinion of me?", etc. Part of the reason I write this blog is to have a way to vent, encourage (hopefully), and examine my thoughts as they come out on the page (or computer screen). You might be thinking that if I really need to write that much I should just keep a journal. Well, I do. And if you think this stuff is hair-raising you should see what I write between those two covers!

I tend to know the right answers to the problems I'm facing. I know that sounded extremely proud and self-righteous, but for the most part I think we all know what we ought to do; the problem comes in the application. And I think that's what it means to honestly struggle. To say "hey, I know I ought to be doing this, but doing it is pretty hard right now. I'm having trouble with it. I'm struggling." It feels good to commiserate with someone in the same boat, but the point is not to stay there on the water, being tossed to and fro. I don't want to deny the boat and the waves, but I want to share with you my struggles as I am in the boat and on the waves and how Jesus is helping me out of it.

Too many nautical references? I couldn't agree with you more. So as I honestly struggle with issues, burdens, problems, frustrations, joys, and victories (you get the point), I pray that it is an encouragement to you. And I hope it points you to Jesus. I read recently that good preaching isn't filled with personal antidotes and funny jokes, but with Jesus from beginning to end, the gospel through and through. I'm afraid I would make a very bad pastor, as I love to share personal antidotes all the time. But hopefully you'll see more and more of Jesus as I point away from myself and towards Him. John the Baptist was a very admirable guy, he who coined the phrase "He must increase, but I must decrease". Oh, but even John the Baptist struggled.

I feel better already.

Snow Day

I love snow like I love New York City - from a comfortable distance. The sound of snow gently falling onto trees and ground, a comfy place to curl up in, and a good book is my idea of a perfect snow day. Thankfully, others (namely Nancy) are willing to brave the cold, wet snow in order to build a snowman and his wife so that someone (namely me) could take a picture of it and post it to their blog. So quaint, so picturesque is my life in the country. What a relief that I don't have to actually participate!

These Strange Ashes

Amy Carmichael is sort of a hero of mine. A missionary with her own way of doing things, but submitted to the Lord and the authority of His Word. No one could bid her nay, or sway her steadfast course.

I first met Amy through a children's biography when I was nine. I decided right then and there that I wanted to be like her when I grew up. A missionary saving children from terrible fates. Children's biographies give you a brushed up view of reality though. I should have realized it then, but hey, I was only nine.

I've gotten to know Amy a little better through the years. Her life, her relationship with God, her struggles, and doubts, and fears. The work she accomplished in India through many toils and with much prayer. Every victory was hard fought and slowly won.

There is another aspect of Amy's life that doesn't quite square with me, especially as I am nearing thirty (!), and I am indeed a missionary to children now. That is the fact of her lifelong singleness. Now, I probably shouldn't talk about this. I probably share too much. "TMI Jeanne" would be a good nickname for me, but I must share my heart on this issue, especially now that it is breaking. Secret hopes and longings have been irrevocably crushed tonight, and frankly, it hurts like hell.

I wonder at the fact that I could be so deluded for so long. And I wonder what God is doing here. This is not how I thought my life would turn out. I thought I would be married with babies by now. That was my master plan, and I have been waiting for God to fulfill it for awhile now. So why hasn't He delivered?

I know what to do in the midst of all this death: preach the gospel to myself. Life comes out of death. In fact, the pastor of my sending church just reminded me of that this afternoon. "Keep on serving", he said. "Unless a grain of wheat fall to the ground", he admonished. That was before I found out it was worse than I thought. Now I sit under the covers and weep knowing that it really and truly is over. My life will not be going in the direction I had hoped for so long it would be going in.

"What is the lesson to be gleaned in all of this", I asked God right away. Then I called my best friend and sobbed. "This is the worst thing that has ever happened to me!" I wailed. And then my mind turns to all those prayers I prayed for so long and with such intensity. Did God not hear? How could His answer be no? If He truly loved me, how could He deny me the one thing, the one person, my heart was truly set on? Of course you, my astute reader, can already sniff out the false note in my dilemma: God should be my one thing. Not a man, a situation, or a martial status.

What would Amy Carmichael do? She would probably write a poem, pouring her heart out to God. I am not good at poetry, so I will quote her instead:

But these strange ashes, Lord, this nothingness,
This baffling sense of loss?
Son, was the anguish of my stripping less
Upon the torturing cross?
Was I not brought into the dust of death,
A worm and no man, I;
Yea, turned to ashes by the vehement breath
Of fire, on Calvary?
O Son beloved, this is thy heart’s desire:
This, and no other thing
Follows the fall of Consuming Fire
On the burnt offering.
Go on and taste the joy set high, afar -
No joy like that to thee;
See how it lights the way like some great star.
Come now, and follow Me.

- Amy Carmichael

These strange ashes lie all about me and I have no idea what to do with them. Ashes are not good building material, they tend to blow away, get in your eyes, and threaten to blind you. I am tempted to wallow in these ashes. To pull out a pint of ice cream, pop in "He's Just Not That Into You", and cry while wondering how I could have turned into such a Gigi. "This is the worst!" I would screech at the top of my voice for everyone to hear, and then follow it up with a few Tylenol PMs for good measure.

But I cannot now do that. I just read an article on Matt Chandler and his struggle with brain cancer. He is suffering well, and really, what is a broken heart compared with his, and his family's, suffering? What struck me about the article is the fact that Matt Chandler wants to suffer well. He knows he isn't anymore special than the guy next to him, that he deserves the wrath of God, and anything other than death is a gift of grace. Again I ask: what is a broken heart in comparison to that?

I know God can bring beauty out of these ashes. He can use this experience to build character and a deeper ability to enjoy Him. To enjoy Him for Him, and not for His gifts. What is that going to look like tomorrow? Next week? A year from now? I don't know. The future just looks like a big blank now. And it hurts. Every memory feels like a punch in the gut, with the most recent words the icing on the cake. A cake made of gut punches (that sounds ridiculous, but it's two in the morning, so give me a break).

I know God will bring good out of this heartbreak. Already, dozens of little half-formed impressions and lessons fill my heart and mind. I need the grace to sort through them, sit with them, and learn from them. Gleaning for the present, the future, and for others, as well. My suffering, however insignificant, is not only meant for me, but for others in the Body of Christ. To stengthen them and comfort them. Which reminds me of a few verses I just "happened" to read this morning in 2 Corinthians:

"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction so that we will be able to comfort those who are in any affliction with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For just as the sufferings of Christ are ours in abundance so also our comfort is abundant through Christ."

A broken heart is not much suffering compared to brain cancer, or Haiti, but to the one bearing it it feels, well, it feels pretty bad. Elisabeth Elliot (another hero) defines suffering as having what you don't want and wanting what you don't have. Well, if that's so, I am the perfect candidate for the position of sufferer.

I hope, if you are still reading (hey, we ALL know who long-winded I am), that you don't feel compelled to say "ah, poor girl", or any such thing. I am trying, however faltering my efforts may be, to preach the gospel to myself. My heart feels betrayed, stepped on, and trampled. I feel rejected and hurt and angry. BUT, my God has spoken truth in His Word, and it bids me come follow Him, laying aside earthly treasure to pursue a far greater Reality. I just found out He doesn't give me everything I want or feel I need to have in order to be happy in this life. I'm rather ticked off about that at the moment, but I cling to Him. Yes, I cling to Him and as these things are stripped away I think I will become, not less, but more. He is freeing up my affections to enjoy Him more fully. He is not taking from me but giving to me a greater ability to comprehend and behold the only truly satisfying thing: Himself.

In amongst this heartache and half-formed lessons there roll the words which ring so true, it is that one day when I get to heaven I will find that His refusals were "the truest answers to my truest prayers". At least now I know, right? Right. I can finally, and absolutely, let go of my dreams, and hopefully, with clean hands and an upright heart accept whatever God wants to pour into my cup: singleness, sickness, pain, heartache, blessing, joy, Jesus. From death, life. From ashes, beauty. Again, and again, and again.

I am thankful for Amy Carmichael and her witness to the faithfulness of God in Christ Jesus. Now, more than ever, I need that witness. At nine, I wanted to be Amy Carmichael, and now again at twenty-seven. But in the end I think I'll find that it's not about Amy, and it's not about me, but it's about Jesus. When it's all said and done, may I be found glorifying and enjoying Him forever.

Quote

"Christ did not die to forgive sinners who go on treasuring anything above seeing and savoring God. And people who would be happy in heaven if Christ were not there, will not be there. The gospel is not a way to get people to heaven; it is a way to get people to God. It's a way of overcoming every obstacle to everlasting joy in God. If we don't want God above all things, we have not been converted by the gospel."

— John Piper from, God Is the Gospel: Meditations on God's Love as the Gift of Himself