It's a good exercise to remember my complete inability and unloveliness before the Able and Lovely. It's a better exercise to soak in His love and forget about myself.
"All my life you've been calling me to a home You know I've been needing...I'm a broken stone, so lay me in the house You're building..."
For while we were still weak,
at the right time Christ died for the ungodly.
- Romans 5:6
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jesus. Show all posts
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Counseling and Scarlett O'Hara
A few blog posts ago I told you that I am paying someone to fix me. I wish it were that simple. Unfortunately, it is not. It is a long and arduous process which often leaves me emotionally drained and cranky.
Currently in my life I have the time and resources to do something that I've wanted to do for a long time, which is to get professional counseling. I'm sure you couldn't tell by my other blog posts, but I have a lot of issues.
The current issue that I'm working on is dealing with the fallout from abuse suffered in my past. The issues that I'm reaping from those painful seeds include a lot of anger and some destructive and unbiblical ways I deal with that pain and anger.
It's difficult to share these things with you. I wonder if it's better not to, but I know that what ministers most to me are honest struggles. But I'm trying to struggle well. I don't want to wallow in the pain, because I am being redeemed and I don't want to discount the Redeemer and His work in my life. But for so long I've avoided dealing with these issues and so right now I'm having trouble doing anything BUT wallowing.
Counseling brings up so many things that you didn't even know were there. And for me, the very existence of those "unknowns", throw me into a panic. I think I'm pretty "self-aware" (but maybe just self-centered), and to discover all of these issues I didn't even know I had is, in a word, depressing. I am so much worse than I thought I was! Oh, the ugly self-righteousness.
I have a lot more to say about this. I want to defend myself so you don't think I've swallowed the pill of popular psychology and am presently going to start screaming about how I just need to learn how to love myself and then everything will be alright. But no. No, right now you just need to know that I am a messed-up sinner, trying to forgive other messed-up sinners (which is a task that seems at this point in my life, simply unachievable), without losing sight of God, responding in an unbiblical way to the hurt, or hindering the ministry to which God has called me.
These are good, hard days for me. I'm so glad I can talk through all of these issues with someone who is helping me to deal with them in a godly way and see myself the way God sees me. I'm thankful for God's Word which speaks truth into my life and helps me to crush the lies. I'm thankful for grace, and the work of Christ that makes that grace possible. And lastly, I am thankful that God justifies the ungodly. That is a truth that I've been clinging to lately. Because I am, but He does.
I'm sure there will be many other blog posts on this issue, and maybe through them God will even minister to someone. I can only hope. But in the end, it's not about me. I'm learning that in this counseling process, and believe me, it is often a rude awakening. So, will you pray for me? Pray that I grieve well. Pray that I heal well. Pray that I forgive well. And when I saw "well" I mean in a way that brings glory to Christ, because all of these things are hard. Hard.
So, there you have it, the promised blog post. Next, I think I'm supposed to tell you more about my glamorous missionary life. So much glamour, where to even begin? Well, in the words of that paragon of mental health, Scarlett O'Hara (I bet you were wondering when she was finally going to figure into this post), "I won't think about that now, I'll think about that tomorrow".
Currently in my life I have the time and resources to do something that I've wanted to do for a long time, which is to get professional counseling. I'm sure you couldn't tell by my other blog posts, but I have a lot of issues.
The current issue that I'm working on is dealing with the fallout from abuse suffered in my past. The issues that I'm reaping from those painful seeds include a lot of anger and some destructive and unbiblical ways I deal with that pain and anger.
It's difficult to share these things with you. I wonder if it's better not to, but I know that what ministers most to me are honest struggles. But I'm trying to struggle well. I don't want to wallow in the pain, because I am being redeemed and I don't want to discount the Redeemer and His work in my life. But for so long I've avoided dealing with these issues and so right now I'm having trouble doing anything BUT wallowing.
Counseling brings up so many things that you didn't even know were there. And for me, the very existence of those "unknowns", throw me into a panic. I think I'm pretty "self-aware" (but maybe just self-centered), and to discover all of these issues I didn't even know I had is, in a word, depressing. I am so much worse than I thought I was! Oh, the ugly self-righteousness.
I have a lot more to say about this. I want to defend myself so you don't think I've swallowed the pill of popular psychology and am presently going to start screaming about how I just need to learn how to love myself and then everything will be alright. But no. No, right now you just need to know that I am a messed-up sinner, trying to forgive other messed-up sinners (which is a task that seems at this point in my life, simply unachievable), without losing sight of God, responding in an unbiblical way to the hurt, or hindering the ministry to which God has called me.
These are good, hard days for me. I'm so glad I can talk through all of these issues with someone who is helping me to deal with them in a godly way and see myself the way God sees me. I'm thankful for God's Word which speaks truth into my life and helps me to crush the lies. I'm thankful for grace, and the work of Christ that makes that grace possible. And lastly, I am thankful that God justifies the ungodly. That is a truth that I've been clinging to lately. Because I am, but He does.
I'm sure there will be many other blog posts on this issue, and maybe through them God will even minister to someone. I can only hope. But in the end, it's not about me. I'm learning that in this counseling process, and believe me, it is often a rude awakening. So, will you pray for me? Pray that I grieve well. Pray that I heal well. Pray that I forgive well. And when I saw "well" I mean in a way that brings glory to Christ, because all of these things are hard. Hard.
So, there you have it, the promised blog post. Next, I think I'm supposed to tell you more about my glamorous missionary life. So much glamour, where to even begin? Well, in the words of that paragon of mental health, Scarlett O'Hara (I bet you were wondering when she was finally going to figure into this post), "I won't think about that now, I'll think about that tomorrow".
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Baby Ivy
Well, obviously I do not have a true blogger's heart because I've totally left you all out in the cold, as far as updating regularly goes. But perhaps the unexpectedness of my blog posts are what really keep you coming back for more anyway.
I'm feeling a little retrospective tonight, a little melancholy, and I'm tempted to write a rambling post all about my feelings. How horrifying is that prospect? But before you move onto a more interesting, less angst-filled blog, let me assure that that is not going to happen, at least not tonight. Tonight I've decided to introduce you to one of my new favorite people, Ivy.
Ive is my niece, and she made her debut six weeks ago tomorrow. Her birth was a much anticipated, much lauded event. We were at the hospital almost twenty-four hours waiting for her to arrive and it was worth every boring waiting room minute.
At seven on Sunday morning we were awakened by a phone call that alerted us to the emanate arrival and so the mom and littlest sister, Maggie, went with Jessie and Rich to the hospital, and Sarah and I followed a few hours later loaded down with reinforcements in the form of breakfast sandwiches and coffee (Starbucks, obviously).
We spent all day waiting around for Ivy and then as the sun set and other families vacated the waiting room we began the really long wait, the wait until dawn. It was rough. I vaguely remember a trip to a 24-Hour McDonald's for chicken nuggets and fries since we were all starving by the wee hours of the morning. After food we were sleepy.
But we did not sleep because we were too busy watching this door for Grandma (or Mamie as she is currently being referred to) to bust through and tell us that Ivy was finally here.
But no such luck and so about 3am things really started to get interesting. After various rides on the elevator, a trip to the nursery to see all the babies, and exhausting all the reading material to be had in the waiting room, we got creative. We plugged in our various iPods and MP3 players and got our dance on.
Public dancing? No problem for the Hulme clan, we are well-versed in public spectacle, believe me. So, we danced.
And laughed.
And watched for the nurses so they didn't catch us...and then danced some more.
Finally a few hours later Mamie did bust through those doors and we gathered around her camera to see pictures of newborn Ivy. And then a little while later we got to actually meet her in person.
I've never been more proud of my sister in my life. Birth is an amazing, painful process, and as the British would say, she was a real brick. My brother-in-law was also fantastic, even standing up to a not-so-nice doctor in the final stages of labor. Well done both of you.
This is Ivy today.
Fantastic, right (mad props to my friend Melanie Andrich for taking the above photograph. Love it!)? She is a bundle of kissable cheeks and big sometimes blue, sometimes green eyes. It is a pleasure to hold her and pray for her and love her. I am thankful for this good gift to my family, and can't wait for all those "firsts" that come along with the first grand baby, and of course, that ultimate first, when she meets Jesus as her Savior. I've been praying for that day since before she was born and I will continue to pray that our good God will one day answer that prayer and draw her to Himself. Amazing love, how can it be?
Auntie Jeanne loves you, Ivy.
Well, so a bit of a tear-jerker, right? Ah yes, the best of both worlds. And, of course, that's why you read my blog anyway... :)
I'm feeling a little retrospective tonight, a little melancholy, and I'm tempted to write a rambling post all about my feelings. How horrifying is that prospect? But before you move onto a more interesting, less angst-filled blog, let me assure that that is not going to happen, at least not tonight. Tonight I've decided to introduce you to one of my new favorite people, Ivy.
Ive is my niece, and she made her debut six weeks ago tomorrow. Her birth was a much anticipated, much lauded event. We were at the hospital almost twenty-four hours waiting for her to arrive and it was worth every boring waiting room minute.
At seven on Sunday morning we were awakened by a phone call that alerted us to the emanate arrival and so the mom and littlest sister, Maggie, went with Jessie and Rich to the hospital, and Sarah and I followed a few hours later loaded down with reinforcements in the form of breakfast sandwiches and coffee (Starbucks, obviously).
We spent all day waiting around for Ivy and then as the sun set and other families vacated the waiting room we began the really long wait, the wait until dawn. It was rough. I vaguely remember a trip to a 24-Hour McDonald's for chicken nuggets and fries since we were all starving by the wee hours of the morning. After food we were sleepy.
But we did not sleep because we were too busy watching this door for Grandma (or Mamie as she is currently being referred to) to bust through and tell us that Ivy was finally here.
But no such luck and so about 3am things really started to get interesting. After various rides on the elevator, a trip to the nursery to see all the babies, and exhausting all the reading material to be had in the waiting room, we got creative. We plugged in our various iPods and MP3 players and got our dance on.
Public dancing? No problem for the Hulme clan, we are well-versed in public spectacle, believe me. So, we danced.
And laughed.
And watched for the nurses so they didn't catch us...and then danced some more.
Finally a few hours later Mamie did bust through those doors and we gathered around her camera to see pictures of newborn Ivy. And then a little while later we got to actually meet her in person.
I've never been more proud of my sister in my life. Birth is an amazing, painful process, and as the British would say, she was a real brick. My brother-in-law was also fantastic, even standing up to a not-so-nice doctor in the final stages of labor. Well done both of you.
This is Ivy today.
Fantastic, right (mad props to my friend Melanie Andrich for taking the above photograph. Love it!)? She is a bundle of kissable cheeks and big sometimes blue, sometimes green eyes. It is a pleasure to hold her and pray for her and love her. I am thankful for this good gift to my family, and can't wait for all those "firsts" that come along with the first grand baby, and of course, that ultimate first, when she meets Jesus as her Savior. I've been praying for that day since before she was born and I will continue to pray that our good God will one day answer that prayer and draw her to Himself. Amazing love, how can it be?
Auntie Jeanne loves you, Ivy.
Well, so a bit of a tear-jerker, right? Ah yes, the best of both worlds. And, of course, that's why you read my blog anyway... :)
Thursday, October 21, 2010
A Good Place to Be
Last night I took a foray into a local Christian bookstore, and although my head is still reeling from that experience (so much heresy, so little time), I did come out a little richer with a book by Spurgeon called "All of Grace".
Lately I've been having trouble with my affections. They have all been scattered and set upon the wrong things. I laid in bed last night thinking and praying and pondering this restlessness in myself for Something More. As I wrestled the thought "silly girl, you want Someone to worship" popped into my mind.
And indeed the desire in my heart to love and be loved in return, the restlessness I've been feeling lately, can only be fully satisfied by Christ. The forward to Spurgeon's book contains a quote from Archibald Brown, a "disciple" of Spurgeon and a fellow minister, which reveals where Spurgeon's affections were fully and finally set:
This description of Spurgeon fills me with a desire for the same, that unapproached, unrivaled love for Jesus. To be a delighted captive would be riches indeed. I am prone to rattle off a list of ways that I have failed in this task of loving Jesus like I should, but lately I've been convicted about the fact that I hardly ever thank God for the multiple ways He is working in my life, the grace He shows me everyday.
Earlier today I heard a preacher remark that we as Christ-followers are not called to spread a message of morality, but the message of Christ Himself. I am called to proclaim a Person, not a program. I am called by grace to respond to God through Christ, to live before His face and not under my own list of "right" behaviors. I struggle with the tension of living by grace while still walking in holiness all the time. I don't think I'll ever fully get the hang of it, but I want my affections to be stirred by Christ, and Him alone.
I'm thanking God for the ways that He has led me thus far, and trusting in His grace to lead me in the future, and resting in His love tonight.
It's a good place to be.
Lately I've been having trouble with my affections. They have all been scattered and set upon the wrong things. I laid in bed last night thinking and praying and pondering this restlessness in myself for Something More. As I wrestled the thought "silly girl, you want Someone to worship" popped into my mind.
And indeed the desire in my heart to love and be loved in return, the restlessness I've been feeling lately, can only be fully satisfied by Christ. The forward to Spurgeon's book contains a quote from Archibald Brown, a "disciple" of Spurgeon and a fellow minister, which reveals where Spurgeon's affections were fully and finally set:
"In his heart, Jesus stood unapproached, unrivaled.
He worshipped Him; he adored Him.
He was our Lord's delighted captive."
This description of Spurgeon fills me with a desire for the same, that unapproached, unrivaled love for Jesus. To be a delighted captive would be riches indeed. I am prone to rattle off a list of ways that I have failed in this task of loving Jesus like I should, but lately I've been convicted about the fact that I hardly ever thank God for the multiple ways He is working in my life, the grace He shows me everyday.
Earlier today I heard a preacher remark that we as Christ-followers are not called to spread a message of morality, but the message of Christ Himself. I am called to proclaim a Person, not a program. I am called by grace to respond to God through Christ, to live before His face and not under my own list of "right" behaviors. I struggle with the tension of living by grace while still walking in holiness all the time. I don't think I'll ever fully get the hang of it, but I want my affections to be stirred by Christ, and Him alone.
I'm thanking God for the ways that He has led me thus far, and trusting in His grace to lead me in the future, and resting in His love tonight.
It's a good place to be.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
I Need You
Love this song by The Swift. It is perfect for a weary Thursday afternoon.
Lyrics!
My heart is restless in me
My wings are all worn out
I'm walking in the wilderness
And I cannot get out
I need You, oh I need You
Blessed Savior come
I need You, oh I need You
Fill the every longing of my soul
Oh how I need You, Lord
I need Your perfect word
With tearful eyes I see
The sin that I afford
I need to weep and pray
For all the thousand ways
That I have failed You just today
And my bed is soaked with sadness
My sadness has no end
A downward spiral of despair
That I keep falling in
I need You, oh I need You
To You my soul shall fly
I need You, oh I need You
Yahweh, how I love you more than life
Oh how I need You, Lord
I need Your perfect word
With tearful eyes I see
The sin that I afford
I need to weep and pray
For all the thousand ways
That I have failed You just today
Your silence is like death to me
So won't You hear my desperate plea?
Today my soul is soaring
Way over mountains high
Though I can see the valleys
They are all just passing by
Its not that I am stronger
Look at my feeble wings
But I've been lifted higher
Yahweh's lifted me in His own strength
Oh how I love You Lord
I love your perfect word
With tearful eyes I see
The God who always will endure
Now I will celebrate
For all the thousand ways
That you have shown me grace
And made my heart in grace to stay
You made my heart in grace to stay
Lord, make my heart in grace to stay
I need You, oh I need You
Lyrics!
My heart is restless in me
My wings are all worn out
I'm walking in the wilderness
And I cannot get out
I need You, oh I need You
Blessed Savior come
I need You, oh I need You
Fill the every longing of my soul
Oh how I need You, Lord
I need Your perfect word
With tearful eyes I see
The sin that I afford
I need to weep and pray
For all the thousand ways
That I have failed You just today
And my bed is soaked with sadness
My sadness has no end
A downward spiral of despair
That I keep falling in
I need You, oh I need You
To You my soul shall fly
I need You, oh I need You
Yahweh, how I love you more than life
Oh how I need You, Lord
I need Your perfect word
With tearful eyes I see
The sin that I afford
I need to weep and pray
For all the thousand ways
That I have failed You just today
Your silence is like death to me
So won't You hear my desperate plea?
Today my soul is soaring
Way over mountains high
Though I can see the valleys
They are all just passing by
Its not that I am stronger
Look at my feeble wings
But I've been lifted higher
Yahweh's lifted me in His own strength
Oh how I love You Lord
I love your perfect word
With tearful eyes I see
The God who always will endure
Now I will celebrate
For all the thousand ways
That you have shown me grace
And made my heart in grace to stay
You made my heart in grace to stay
Lord, make my heart in grace to stay
I need You, oh I need You
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Sunday Hymn
I love this hymn. I sing it when I need to remember that "whoever believe in him is not condemned..." (John 3:18a). I sing it when I am sore from sin and in need of the grace that is found only in Jesus. I sing it when I need to praise the God of all mercy and my own words fail.
I love this version by Caedmon's Call.
Thy Mercy, My God
Thy mercy, my God, is the theme of my song,
The joy of my heart. and the boast of my tongue;
Thy free grace alone, from the first to the last,
Hath won my affections, and bound my soul fast.
Without Thy sweet mercy I could not live here;
Sin would reduce me to utter despair;
But, through Thy free goodness, my spirits revive,
And He that first made me still keeps me alive.
Thy mercy is more than a match for my heart,
Which wonders to feel its own hardness depart;
Dissolved by Thy goodness, I fall to the ground,
And weep to the praise of the mercy I’ve found.
Great Father of mercies, Thy goodness I own,
And the covenant love of Thy crucified Son;
All praise to the Spirit, Whose whisper divine
Seals mercy, and pardon, and righteousness mine.
All praise to the Spirit, Whose whisper divine
Seals mercy, and pardon, and righteousness mine.
Words: John Stocker
Music: Sandra McCracken
©2001 Same Old Dress Music (ASCAP).
I love this version by Caedmon's Call.
Thy Mercy, My God
Thy mercy, my God, is the theme of my song,
The joy of my heart. and the boast of my tongue;
Thy free grace alone, from the first to the last,
Hath won my affections, and bound my soul fast.
Without Thy sweet mercy I could not live here;
Sin would reduce me to utter despair;
But, through Thy free goodness, my spirits revive,
And He that first made me still keeps me alive.
Thy mercy is more than a match for my heart,
Which wonders to feel its own hardness depart;
Dissolved by Thy goodness, I fall to the ground,
And weep to the praise of the mercy I’ve found.
Great Father of mercies, Thy goodness I own,
And the covenant love of Thy crucified Son;
All praise to the Spirit, Whose whisper divine
Seals mercy, and pardon, and righteousness mine.
All praise to the Spirit, Whose whisper divine
Seals mercy, and pardon, and righteousness mine.
Words: John Stocker
Music: Sandra McCracken
©2001 Same Old Dress Music (ASCAP).
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
An Easy Yes
I just had all of my plans for the next few months turned completely upside down and something that I was really looking forward to taken away in two seconds.
It's hard to process death, especially when it happens so rapidly. Sometimes God works slowly over months and years, and sometimes He rips your world apart in a matter of moments.
It's easy to say "yes, I will lay it down for your Kingdom, for the ministry that You've called me to", but it's hard to live with the consequences of that "yes".
I just finished asking "why". Why did You take that away from me? You know how much it meant to me. You know how much I was looking forward to it. It was literally giving me the will to live through the next few difficult months.
And therein the problem lies. I was putting a lot of hope in this certain event. And my hope had been steadily building through the last few days. And it was like God was asking in me that "why" moment how much I loved Him, and was I willing to lay down my life for His Kingdom, His agenda, and His purposes.
I love when God asks you if you love Him, and then asks you to prove it. He asks if I will be lower so He can be higher, poorer so He can be richer, disappointed and thwarted so His purposes can come to pass in my life and the life of others.
I know that God will bring good out of this disappointment. I know that this plan is better than the other, but it is still painful, still a death. And believe me, I am mourning it.
I wish that God would give me what I want all the time because I hate pain, and this is painful. BUT, in this death is a chance for life. What's that old hymn? "I'll live for Him, who died for me, how HAPPY then my life will be..." I may not have what I thought I wanted, needed, and had to have, but I know that God is near to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. And He gives the best to those who leave the choice with Him.
I know I would rather have Him send trial after trial, but give spiritual life and vitality (eyes to see and ears to hear), then to leave me alone with everything I want (an easy life, financial security, a husband and children), but spiritually destitute.
It's so hard to put this process into words, but it's like a broadening. Everytime God asks me to die to myself, He gives the grace to enjoy Him a little bit more, to comprehend more of His goodness, to appreciate His infinite worth a little more. My soul broadens, but it costs. It is not an easy yes.
Pray for me. Pray for the courage to answer yes, even when it costs me everything I have, because this I know for certain: He IS worth it.
It's hard to process death, especially when it happens so rapidly. Sometimes God works slowly over months and years, and sometimes He rips your world apart in a matter of moments.
It's easy to say "yes, I will lay it down for your Kingdom, for the ministry that You've called me to", but it's hard to live with the consequences of that "yes".
I just finished asking "why". Why did You take that away from me? You know how much it meant to me. You know how much I was looking forward to it. It was literally giving me the will to live through the next few difficult months.
And therein the problem lies. I was putting a lot of hope in this certain event. And my hope had been steadily building through the last few days. And it was like God was asking in me that "why" moment how much I loved Him, and was I willing to lay down my life for His Kingdom, His agenda, and His purposes.
I love when God asks you if you love Him, and then asks you to prove it. He asks if I will be lower so He can be higher, poorer so He can be richer, disappointed and thwarted so His purposes can come to pass in my life and the life of others.
I know that God will bring good out of this disappointment. I know that this plan is better than the other, but it is still painful, still a death. And believe me, I am mourning it.
I wish that God would give me what I want all the time because I hate pain, and this is painful. BUT, in this death is a chance for life. What's that old hymn? "I'll live for Him, who died for me, how HAPPY then my life will be..." I may not have what I thought I wanted, needed, and had to have, but I know that God is near to the broken-hearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. And He gives the best to those who leave the choice with Him.
I know I would rather have Him send trial after trial, but give spiritual life and vitality (eyes to see and ears to hear), then to leave me alone with everything I want (an easy life, financial security, a husband and children), but spiritually destitute.
It's so hard to put this process into words, but it's like a broadening. Everytime God asks me to die to myself, He gives the grace to enjoy Him a little bit more, to comprehend more of His goodness, to appreciate His infinite worth a little more. My soul broadens, but it costs. It is not an easy yes.
Pray for me. Pray for the courage to answer yes, even when it costs me everything I have, because this I know for certain: He IS worth it.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Plastic Pop Beads
God keeps slapping me in the face with Mark 8:35: "For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake and the gospel's will save it."
It's been over a year now since that verse got stuck in my devotional craw. I think this means that the truth of it hasn't sunk in enough to actually change my heart; God has to keep bringing me back to it until I learn the lesson.
Today I made a list of everything that I fear this verse might mean in my life. All the things that I fear God could, is, will call me to give up for His sake. It was a depressing list. It filled me dread.
But it was also freeing. All of the best things in life are nothing compared to Christ and the surpassing worth of knowing Him. That is the truth.
Big things, little things, He wants them all. He wants all of me, my dearest treasures, my fondest hopes. He wants me to bow my knee to the truth that He is better than any of those things and by faith live out the consequences of this belief. He wants me to put my hope in Him.
I read this story today and I wanted to share. It's from a transcript of a message given at Urbana 1984 by Joanne Shetler.
"I will never forget the story of the little girl whose daddy had given her some plastic pop beads. Now they were poor but she loved her daddy. And so she loved those beads. She wore them everywhere. She wore them to church; she wore them to school; she wore them to bed. She never took her beads off. They were the thing she loved most. One day her daddy came home, and asked her for those little beads back. She was incredulous. He asked again, and she got tears in her eyes. He asked a third time, and she was torn. She couldn't understand. Why is this? She loved those beads. She loved her daddy. Finally, sobbing, she took off her beads and put them in her daddy's hand. And then, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a string of real pearls and put them around her neck."
What is getting in the way of truly knowing Him and making Him my treasure? What are the plastic pop beads of my life? I've made a list, although, undoubtedly I'll have different priorities at different times of my life. I will constantly have to lay my treasures down.
But, amazingly, I want to. I want to show others the surpassing worth of Jesus by not making the things of this world my treasure. It's hard, of course, because everything worthwhile is costly. But it is worth it. God's Word testifies to this truth, and so do countless Christians before and beside me. And I want to be one of those who have counted it all loss, and found riches untold at the foot of Jesus.
Pearls for my pop beads.
It's been over a year now since that verse got stuck in my devotional craw. I think this means that the truth of it hasn't sunk in enough to actually change my heart; God has to keep bringing me back to it until I learn the lesson.
Today I made a list of everything that I fear this verse might mean in my life. All the things that I fear God could, is, will call me to give up for His sake. It was a depressing list. It filled me dread.
But it was also freeing. All of the best things in life are nothing compared to Christ and the surpassing worth of knowing Him. That is the truth.
Big things, little things, He wants them all. He wants all of me, my dearest treasures, my fondest hopes. He wants me to bow my knee to the truth that He is better than any of those things and by faith live out the consequences of this belief. He wants me to put my hope in Him.
I read this story today and I wanted to share. It's from a transcript of a message given at Urbana 1984 by Joanne Shetler.
"I will never forget the story of the little girl whose daddy had given her some plastic pop beads. Now they were poor but she loved her daddy. And so she loved those beads. She wore them everywhere. She wore them to church; she wore them to school; she wore them to bed. She never took her beads off. They were the thing she loved most. One day her daddy came home, and asked her for those little beads back. She was incredulous. He asked again, and she got tears in her eyes. He asked a third time, and she was torn. She couldn't understand. Why is this? She loved those beads. She loved her daddy. Finally, sobbing, she took off her beads and put them in her daddy's hand. And then, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a string of real pearls and put them around her neck."
What is getting in the way of truly knowing Him and making Him my treasure? What are the plastic pop beads of my life? I've made a list, although, undoubtedly I'll have different priorities at different times of my life. I will constantly have to lay my treasures down.
But, amazingly, I want to. I want to show others the surpassing worth of Jesus by not making the things of this world my treasure. It's hard, of course, because everything worthwhile is costly. But it is worth it. God's Word testifies to this truth, and so do countless Christians before and beside me. And I want to be one of those who have counted it all loss, and found riches untold at the foot of Jesus.
Pearls for my pop beads.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Conviction
I just got off the phone with my best friend.
Here's how our relationship works: I have some sort of crisis. I call her and pour out my heart (usually this takes no less than an hour). She listens, interjecting only an occasional "mm, hm", while I scream, cry, or moan. After I finish pouring out my heart, we have some brief discussion of the matter, but mostly I've already talked through all of the issues, and can plainly see what I should do.
I'm sure glad God gave me Joanna, because she is a lot cheaper than therapy, and just as effective.
Seriously though, I've been wrestling through some issues, and have been hesitant to discuss them with her. I've talked about them briefly with her sister, I've talked about them in-depth with her mom (my spiritual mom), I've told the ladies in my church about them, but until I broke down and discussed it with her, I really hadn't gotten to the heart of the issues.
As I talked with her though, all the terrible motives, bad attitudes, and depravity just came pouring out of me. Who knew I had that much sin lurking in my heart (and there it is again - pride!)? God has been working on me this week, working on me hard, and today was the icing on the cake. But here's the deal: conviction is good.
It wasn't until recently that I began to really rejoice in the conviction of the Holy Spirit. It wasn't until recently, that I really began to understand what an extreme act of mercy -- of kindness -- conviction really is. If God is convicting you of your sins, don't fight it, He is keeping you from destruction! A chance to turn and repent? Yes, please.
It feels good to get things off my chest. It helps me to see where I really, what the real issues are, but more than that, it helps me to see how much I need a Savior. I need God to incline my heart to keep His Word. We sang a song in church today with a few lines that always get me:
I can only stand and ask that God would grant to me what He commands of me. I know that I have no power of my own to obey, so I must pray not only for the inclination, but the power. Lord, help me to will against my will. I see what You have commanded, and I in no way am able, help my inability, help my unbelief.
And in His graciousness, faithfulness, and mercy, He continues to condescend to me. Wow, amazing love.
Here's how our relationship works: I have some sort of crisis. I call her and pour out my heart (usually this takes no less than an hour). She listens, interjecting only an occasional "mm, hm", while I scream, cry, or moan. After I finish pouring out my heart, we have some brief discussion of the matter, but mostly I've already talked through all of the issues, and can plainly see what I should do.
I'm sure glad God gave me Joanna, because she is a lot cheaper than therapy, and just as effective.
Seriously though, I've been wrestling through some issues, and have been hesitant to discuss them with her. I've talked about them briefly with her sister, I've talked about them in-depth with her mom (my spiritual mom), I've told the ladies in my church about them, but until I broke down and discussed it with her, I really hadn't gotten to the heart of the issues.
As I talked with her though, all the terrible motives, bad attitudes, and depravity just came pouring out of me. Who knew I had that much sin lurking in my heart (and there it is again - pride!)? God has been working on me this week, working on me hard, and today was the icing on the cake. But here's the deal: conviction is good.
It wasn't until recently that I began to really rejoice in the conviction of the Holy Spirit. It wasn't until recently, that I really began to understand what an extreme act of mercy -- of kindness -- conviction really is. If God is convicting you of your sins, don't fight it, He is keeping you from destruction! A chance to turn and repent? Yes, please.
It feels good to get things off my chest. It helps me to see where I really, what the real issues are, but more than that, it helps me to see how much I need a Savior. I need God to incline my heart to keep His Word. We sang a song in church today with a few lines that always get me:
"I would but can't repent,
Though I endeavor oft;
This stony heart can ne'er relent,
Till Jesus makes it soft.
I would but cannot love,
Though wooed by love divine;
No arguments have power to move
A soul as base as mine."
I can only stand and ask that God would grant to me what He commands of me. I know that I have no power of my own to obey, so I must pray not only for the inclination, but the power. Lord, help me to will against my will. I see what You have commanded, and I in no way am able, help my inability, help my unbelief.
And in His graciousness, faithfulness, and mercy, He continues to condescend to me. Wow, amazing love.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
Wreckage
I went for a really long drive on the back roads of Little Rock today. Spring is bursting out all over the place and the trees, bushes, and flowers are all in bloom. The grass seems perkier as well and I enjoyed its vibrant green color against the blue skies.
I went driving with the radio turned on and my thoughts for the most part turned off. Sometimes you need to do this in order to achieve a renewed level of sanity. But my thoughts eventually turned back on. It is sometimes surprising to find out what is lurking in the recesses of the mind. At least for me. We live in a world of constant stimulation, and it is so easy (scarily so) to ignore your own heart. Don't want to deal with an issue? BOOM! Log onto Facebook and hear about someone else's for a little while, or at least long enough to forget your own.
What is lurking in my heart? Honestly, a whole lot of anger. This is not surprising to me. It seems that my whole life long I have been dealing with anger about something or other. I think I have many really good reasons to be angry, and many good reason to be not angry. Some of the good reasons why I am angry include other people's sin. I am angry at the way their sin has affected my whole life. I am a broken human being because of someone else's sin.
At the same time, I'm sure other people can say the same of me. We are all broken because of sin. I once heard a quote which went along the lines of "we all live in the wreckage of other people's sin". Sad, profound, and true. I know there are some who would instantly disagree with me and claim that "Jesus came to give me victory!" or platitudes like that, but the plain fact is that while Jesus did achieve the ultimate victory over sin, and one day we will live in a world redeemed from the Fall, we still live in a very, very sinful world.
This is evident all around us, and sometimes it touches us very close to home. I have lived through my share of heartache due to the effects of sin, and it makes me very angry. At the same time, there is a lot of hope in this sin-sick world, a lot of redemption, and I see it all around me. Men who get up in the morning and are faithful to do the right thing even when others around them fail. That gives me hope. Women who love imperfect people imperfectly and will never stop. That gives me hope.
I spoke on the phone with one of my best friends in the world last night. We talked, among other things, about the wreckage we live in everyday. It has touched and changed each of us. She asked and I talked about how I am mostly completely flummoxed by this year in Little Rock. Most days I wake up and think "what-the-h am I doing here?". It makes no sense to me. My life here is so ordinary and I can't for the life of me comprehend the lessons God is teaching me. This makes me kind of nervous. I need some justification for moving away from my friends and family, my life, to Jacksonville, Arkansas, of all places. I thought God had some big, grand reason for moving me here, and although I know beyond a doubt that He wanted me here, I still want a really good, crystal-clear reason for it. So far, no dice.
So what is God doing? The not-knowing makes me angry, confused, and a little doubtful. The last three years of my life have been such a roller-coaster of events, emotions, and spiritual growth all moving me to a place that I didn't expect or want at all: here. While I was making the decision to move here, people kept saying "you should just do what you want to do", which annoyed me to no end. What I wanted to do was exactly the opposite of this, but what do you do when what you want to do isn't an option? Well, you do the next best thing, or in my case, the next possible thing. You obey the light you've been given even as the darkness closes around what you really wanted.
When what we expect to happen doesn't, we are left with so many broken pieces to make sense of, and then, hopefully, gracefully, to move on from into the life we had never imagined, but are nonetheless living. How do we do that? I am still struggling with this question. My times with God are still filled with questions, and even sometimes accusations, mingled with pleas for direction. What now? Where now?
I guess this is a post I've had bottled up in me for a few months now, ever since I closed the door finally and completely on a part of my life that I held far too dear for far too long. I am a fool for clinging so completely to such incomplete happiness. My hands are loose now, and what do I grasp? My Savior, of course, who is the only One who can make sense of my life in the end, who IS my life in the end. I thought I was clinging to Him, but I realize now that I was grasping Him in one hand while holding onto my own plans with the other. Now that both hands are free to grasp Him, I feel a little off-balanced. My other hand is still trying to cling onto other things besides Him. Foolish, but redeemable, girl.
My life is filled with dichotomy. I am surrounded by wreckage and beauty, good and evil, joy and pain. I know there are many "reasons" that I can't fully comprehend or even appreciate now in the midst of it. Maybe I should let go of my desire to know, and instead rest. I always like to end my blog posts on a happy note, or at least a note of hope; resolution would probably be the best word for it, actually. Oh, but things are not resolved. Not at all.
But I'm not working on figuring it all; I'm working on trusting.
I went driving with the radio turned on and my thoughts for the most part turned off. Sometimes you need to do this in order to achieve a renewed level of sanity. But my thoughts eventually turned back on. It is sometimes surprising to find out what is lurking in the recesses of the mind. At least for me. We live in a world of constant stimulation, and it is so easy (scarily so) to ignore your own heart. Don't want to deal with an issue? BOOM! Log onto Facebook and hear about someone else's for a little while, or at least long enough to forget your own.
What is lurking in my heart? Honestly, a whole lot of anger. This is not surprising to me. It seems that my whole life long I have been dealing with anger about something or other. I think I have many really good reasons to be angry, and many good reason to be not angry. Some of the good reasons why I am angry include other people's sin. I am angry at the way their sin has affected my whole life. I am a broken human being because of someone else's sin.
At the same time, I'm sure other people can say the same of me. We are all broken because of sin. I once heard a quote which went along the lines of "we all live in the wreckage of other people's sin". Sad, profound, and true. I know there are some who would instantly disagree with me and claim that "Jesus came to give me victory!" or platitudes like that, but the plain fact is that while Jesus did achieve the ultimate victory over sin, and one day we will live in a world redeemed from the Fall, we still live in a very, very sinful world.
This is evident all around us, and sometimes it touches us very close to home. I have lived through my share of heartache due to the effects of sin, and it makes me very angry. At the same time, there is a lot of hope in this sin-sick world, a lot of redemption, and I see it all around me. Men who get up in the morning and are faithful to do the right thing even when others around them fail. That gives me hope. Women who love imperfect people imperfectly and will never stop. That gives me hope.
I spoke on the phone with one of my best friends in the world last night. We talked, among other things, about the wreckage we live in everyday. It has touched and changed each of us. She asked and I talked about how I am mostly completely flummoxed by this year in Little Rock. Most days I wake up and think "what-the-h am I doing here?". It makes no sense to me. My life here is so ordinary and I can't for the life of me comprehend the lessons God is teaching me. This makes me kind of nervous. I need some justification for moving away from my friends and family, my life, to Jacksonville, Arkansas, of all places. I thought God had some big, grand reason for moving me here, and although I know beyond a doubt that He wanted me here, I still want a really good, crystal-clear reason for it. So far, no dice.
So what is God doing? The not-knowing makes me angry, confused, and a little doubtful. The last three years of my life have been such a roller-coaster of events, emotions, and spiritual growth all moving me to a place that I didn't expect or want at all: here. While I was making the decision to move here, people kept saying "you should just do what you want to do", which annoyed me to no end. What I wanted to do was exactly the opposite of this, but what do you do when what you want to do isn't an option? Well, you do the next best thing, or in my case, the next possible thing. You obey the light you've been given even as the darkness closes around what you really wanted.
When what we expect to happen doesn't, we are left with so many broken pieces to make sense of, and then, hopefully, gracefully, to move on from into the life we had never imagined, but are nonetheless living. How do we do that? I am still struggling with this question. My times with God are still filled with questions, and even sometimes accusations, mingled with pleas for direction. What now? Where now?
I guess this is a post I've had bottled up in me for a few months now, ever since I closed the door finally and completely on a part of my life that I held far too dear for far too long. I am a fool for clinging so completely to such incomplete happiness. My hands are loose now, and what do I grasp? My Savior, of course, who is the only One who can make sense of my life in the end, who IS my life in the end. I thought I was clinging to Him, but I realize now that I was grasping Him in one hand while holding onto my own plans with the other. Now that both hands are free to grasp Him, I feel a little off-balanced. My other hand is still trying to cling onto other things besides Him. Foolish, but redeemable, girl.
My life is filled with dichotomy. I am surrounded by wreckage and beauty, good and evil, joy and pain. I know there are many "reasons" that I can't fully comprehend or even appreciate now in the midst of it. Maybe I should let go of my desire to know, and instead rest. I always like to end my blog posts on a happy note, or at least a note of hope; resolution would probably be the best word for it, actually. Oh, but things are not resolved. Not at all.
But I'm not working on figuring it all; I'm working on trusting.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
International Women's Day
Apparently, yesterday was International Women's Day. Personally, I view this as a little piece of nonsense. I'm not sure why we feel the need to almost deify our gender, to blow our accomplishments out of all normal proportion, but there is something to be said for knowing your place and staying in it.
I am not a feminist in the most popular sense of the word, but I do believe women have unrecognized power. Unrecognized by ourselves alone. I think we should be capitalizing on the power with which God in His sovereign wisdom has endowed us, but sadly, we want, not our own, but someone else's power. I think this a sad state of affairs.
I understand that there is oppression and exploitation of women all over the world today, but this is true for many people groups, cultures, and races, not just women. I think the biggest offenders in this area are women themselves. We have exploited and oppressed ourselves beyond anything a man could ever accomplish because of our refusal to recognize and rejoice in God's created order.
Or course there are days when I think "boys are dumb!", because, well, they sometimes are, but there are just as many days when I have to acknowledge my own sin against God; my rebellion against the way in which He created me to function; my inate "dumbness" (read: sin).
But getting back to the whole "power of women" thing, I took some time yesterday to dwell on the women who are, in my estimation, the most powerful. I would say that truthfully, I have grown up in a matriarchal society. The women in my family are powerful. As I think about my ancestors on both sides I see that the men have been mostly flakes. In fact, a few days ago I was looking up my original maiden name (before I was adopted at age nine) and a picture of my uncle Frank popped up. He is a sex offender. My dad died when I was five because he was a drug addict and an alcoholic. The man my mother married when I was seven (and who later adopted me) is a porn addict who allowed his sin to destroy his marriage. I have heard stories of my grandfathers and great-grandfathers who were emotionally, sexually, and physically abusive to their wives and children. The women in my family have had to be strong to survive.
There have been no feminists in my family though. Only women of quiet simple faith resolved to do the right thing, even when it resulted in their own harm. They haven't been perfect, not by a long shot, but they have been faithful. My mother loves to tell us stories of her grandmother, Jessie, for whom my little sister is named. A woman who was married to a difficult man, but who was a woman of prayer. My mother is sure that she loves Jesus because of her grandmother's prayers. And I love Jesus because my mother loves Him, and so on. In His grace He has used the prayers of these righteous women to result in many physical and spiritual children.
I am thankful for such a godly heritage of women who knew their place and stayed in it, and not just my own family members, but my many spiritual mothers as well. I have been ridiculously blessed in this area. These women had (and have) such power over future generations because they submitted themselves in humility to God's plan for them. I pray that I am like them.
I have great hope, not only for the women in my family, but for my brothers as well. Truthfully, I pray for them more than I pray for my sisters, because I have a sneaking suspicion that Satan wants them more. I don't want to see another generation of men in my family weakened by sin and devoid of purpose, so I do what I can do as a woman to help them. I don't bash men simply for being men, but I point out what is true of all of us - we are sinners. Our problem is not our gender, but our nature. I strive to live out biblical womanhood before them so that they know what it looks like, and one day will marry a woman who will not be subordinate to them in their humanity, but mutually submissive to them in obedience to God's design.
There is great power in womanly submission, not only to husbands, but to God. I pray that more and more women tap into this power but it's too late. Happy International Women's Day!
I am not a feminist in the most popular sense of the word, but I do believe women have unrecognized power. Unrecognized by ourselves alone. I think we should be capitalizing on the power with which God in His sovereign wisdom has endowed us, but sadly, we want, not our own, but someone else's power. I think this a sad state of affairs.
I understand that there is oppression and exploitation of women all over the world today, but this is true for many people groups, cultures, and races, not just women. I think the biggest offenders in this area are women themselves. We have exploited and oppressed ourselves beyond anything a man could ever accomplish because of our refusal to recognize and rejoice in God's created order.
Or course there are days when I think "boys are dumb!", because, well, they sometimes are, but there are just as many days when I have to acknowledge my own sin against God; my rebellion against the way in which He created me to function; my inate "dumbness" (read: sin).
But getting back to the whole "power of women" thing, I took some time yesterday to dwell on the women who are, in my estimation, the most powerful. I would say that truthfully, I have grown up in a matriarchal society. The women in my family are powerful. As I think about my ancestors on both sides I see that the men have been mostly flakes. In fact, a few days ago I was looking up my original maiden name (before I was adopted at age nine) and a picture of my uncle Frank popped up. He is a sex offender. My dad died when I was five because he was a drug addict and an alcoholic. The man my mother married when I was seven (and who later adopted me) is a porn addict who allowed his sin to destroy his marriage. I have heard stories of my grandfathers and great-grandfathers who were emotionally, sexually, and physically abusive to their wives and children. The women in my family have had to be strong to survive.
There have been no feminists in my family though. Only women of quiet simple faith resolved to do the right thing, even when it resulted in their own harm. They haven't been perfect, not by a long shot, but they have been faithful. My mother loves to tell us stories of her grandmother, Jessie, for whom my little sister is named. A woman who was married to a difficult man, but who was a woman of prayer. My mother is sure that she loves Jesus because of her grandmother's prayers. And I love Jesus because my mother loves Him, and so on. In His grace He has used the prayers of these righteous women to result in many physical and spiritual children.
I am thankful for such a godly heritage of women who knew their place and stayed in it, and not just my own family members, but my many spiritual mothers as well. I have been ridiculously blessed in this area. These women had (and have) such power over future generations because they submitted themselves in humility to God's plan for them. I pray that I am like them.
I have great hope, not only for the women in my family, but for my brothers as well. Truthfully, I pray for them more than I pray for my sisters, because I have a sneaking suspicion that Satan wants them more. I don't want to see another generation of men in my family weakened by sin and devoid of purpose, so I do what I can do as a woman to help them. I don't bash men simply for being men, but I point out what is true of all of us - we are sinners. Our problem is not our gender, but our nature. I strive to live out biblical womanhood before them so that they know what it looks like, and one day will marry a woman who will not be subordinate to them in their humanity, but mutually submissive to them in obedience to God's design.
There is great power in womanly submission, not only to husbands, but to God. I pray that more and more women tap into this power but it's too late. Happy International Women's Day!
Sunday, March 7, 2010
Sunday Hymn
Man of Sorrows! what a name
For the Son of God, who came
Ruined sinners to reclaim:
Hallelujah, What a Savior!
Bearing shame and scoffing rude,
In my place condemned he stood;
Sealed my pardon with his blood:
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
Guilty, vile, and helpless, we;
Spotless Lamb of God was he,
Full atonement! Can it be?
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
Lifted up was he to die,
"It is finished!" was his cry;
Now in heaven, exalted high:
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
When he comes, our glorious King,
All his ransomed home to bring,
Then anew this song we'll sing:
Hallelujah! What a Savior!
-P.P Bliss, 1838-1876
Friday, February 19, 2010
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!
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!
Monday, February 15, 2010
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.
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.
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.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
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:
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:
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.
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.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
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
Saturday, January 23, 2010
It Is Finished
Hark, the voice of love and mercy,
Sounds aloud from Calvary!
See, it rends the rocks asunder,
Shakes the earth and veils the sky!
"It is finished, It is finished,"
Hear the dying Savior cry.
"It is finished, It is finished,"
Hear the dying Savior cry.
"It is finished," O, what pleasure,
Do these charming words afford.
Heav'nly blessings, without measure,
Flow to us from Christ the Lord.
"It is finished", It is finished,"
Saints the dying words record.
"It is finished," It is finished,"
Saints the dying words record.
Finished all the types and shadows,
Of the ceremonial law;
Finished all that God has promies;
Death and hell no more shall awe.
"It is finished," It is finished,"
Saints from hence your comfort draw.
"It is finished," It is finished,"
Saints from hence your comfort draw.
Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs;
Join to sing the pleasing theme.
Saints on earth and all in heaven,
Join to praise Immanuel's name.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding lamb!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding lamb!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding lamb!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding lamb!
~ Jonathan Evans, 1784 & Benjamin Francis, 1787
Taken from the Gadsby Hymnal #93
Sounds aloud from Calvary!
See, it rends the rocks asunder,
Shakes the earth and veils the sky!
"It is finished, It is finished,"
Hear the dying Savior cry.
"It is finished, It is finished,"
Hear the dying Savior cry.
"It is finished," O, what pleasure,
Do these charming words afford.
Heav'nly blessings, without measure,
Flow to us from Christ the Lord.
"It is finished", It is finished,"
Saints the dying words record.
"It is finished," It is finished,"
Saints the dying words record.
Finished all the types and shadows,
Of the ceremonial law;
Finished all that God has promies;
Death and hell no more shall awe.
"It is finished," It is finished,"
Saints from hence your comfort draw.
"It is finished," It is finished,"
Saints from hence your comfort draw.
Tune your harps anew, ye seraphs;
Join to sing the pleasing theme.
Saints on earth and all in heaven,
Join to praise Immanuel's name.
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding lamb!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding lamb!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding lamb!
Hallelujah! Hallelujah!
Glory to the bleeding lamb!
~ Jonathan Evans, 1784 & Benjamin Francis, 1787
Taken from the Gadsby Hymnal #93
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Struggle
I am struggling, struggling, struggling with sin in my life.
That sounds a bit too honest. I want to take it back because I would rather you didn't know I struggle to desire God above all those other (even good) things that via for my attention, get blown out of proportion, and threaten to become an idol.
My propensity to turn to other things besides God to fill my needs (especially emotional) is great.
I know that I can't just rip the idols out of my life without replacing them with Something greater, more valuable, more precious, more lovely.
I was thinking about this verse from Psalm 81 which says:
"I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt. Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it."
I got out my handy Reformation Study Bible (I'm a dork) and looked up the commentary concerning this verse. It was just what I needed it hear:
"Much of Israel's history, as recorded in Joshu through Chronicles, is the story of God's people looking for satisfaction without God (yup!). If they were worried about rain, they turned to Baal (1 Kings 18). If they were worried about enemies, they wanted a strong king (1 Samuel 8). They kept forgetting they had a God who could and would fulfill all their needs easily."
Oh Lord, help me not to forget.
That sounds a bit too honest. I want to take it back because I would rather you didn't know I struggle to desire God above all those other (even good) things that via for my attention, get blown out of proportion, and threaten to become an idol.
My propensity to turn to other things besides God to fill my needs (especially emotional) is great.
I know that I can't just rip the idols out of my life without replacing them with Something greater, more valuable, more precious, more lovely.
I was thinking about this verse from Psalm 81 which says:
"I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt. Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it."
I got out my handy Reformation Study Bible (I'm a dork) and looked up the commentary concerning this verse. It was just what I needed it hear:
"Much of Israel's history, as recorded in Joshu through Chronicles, is the story of God's people looking for satisfaction without God (yup!). If they were worried about rain, they turned to Baal (1 Kings 18). If they were worried about enemies, they wanted a strong king (1 Samuel 8). They kept forgetting they had a God who could and would fulfill all their needs easily."
Oh Lord, help me not to forget.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Control
The office of CEF of Central Arkansas is housed in a Christian school. The office is tucked in a far away corner of the school, but the windows look directly out onto the playground. A few times a day, especially when I’m at my computer, I can look out and observe the lives of elementary school children on a playground, generally free from teachers and all forms of intervention.
I like to observe their play. This afternoon I watched a group of three boys playfully wrestling each other, one with flaming red hair. All of a sudden, from the part of the playground I can’t see, a little girl and her female sidekick came swooping in. The older, bigger girl immediately began to separate the boys and set the scene right, leaving them standing silent and solemn. I can just imagine what must have been going through her head as she walked away. Probably something triumphant.
What is it about the female gender that makes us want to set the world right? Why can’t we just mind our own business? Women are, generally, fixers. We want everything to be “alright”. At least I do. And most of the women I know are the same way.
For me it stems from the need to be in control. I don’t want things to happen to me. My chief goal in life seems to be damage control. At this point I can probably site all kinds of examples from my childhood, terrible things that happened to me, so I can write this need to be in control off as learned behavior. To a certain extant I’m sure it is, but on the other hand, I know better now.
The future is so uncertain, isn’t it? Just look at the devastation in
The upswing of all of this is that I am learning a lot about grace, and the need to just try again tomorrow. I can’t reform my bad behavior, I can’t change my own heart, but I can help myself to the means of grace God has given me to draw closer to Him and move away from the things and ways of this world – His Word, prayer, fellowship.
I am working on drawing closer, but it’s an uphill battle. Sometimes my heart is too hard even to utter a plea for help. I am learning (again) to ask and to put myself where God’s grace can meet me.
I've had (relatively) rough start to this new year. I am still me. I still want to swoop down and set everything right. I want to interfere and protect myself from the worse. But really, I have nothing to fear. Whatever comes, comes from the gracious hand of a loving Heavenly Father. As a good friend recently reminded me “Jeanne, you are forgiven. All of God’s wrath has been poured out on Jesus.” How refreshing and how much strength I draw from that truth to try again. And again and again, if necessary. There is no condemnation.
I want to be totally in control, but that will never be possible. I may be able to control certain things, it may even be wise for me to do this, but at some point I need to “do the little I can do, and leave the rest to Thee”. I am learning to obey and leave the details, consequences, and future to my Maker and Redeemer. It is a scary and wonderful place to be.
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