"We are destroying speculations and every lofty thing raised up against the knowledge of God, and we are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ." 2 Corinthians 10:5-6
I heard a someone talking about thoughts a few weeks ago, and how each human has somewhere between 12000 and 50000 thoughts a day, and that something like 90 percent of those thoughts are the exact same today as they were yesterday. This sort of discouraged me, because I like to think that each day I'm growing a little bit further away from where I was yesterday. That I'm making forward progress, and I'm not stuck in the same patterns I was in before. I have concluded that those stat's have an asterisk by them and fine print that reads: Exception: mind that is being renewed by the Holy Spirit gets new, Heavenly thoughts each day, making tomorrow's thoughts a little better than today's.
I gave up Facebook for Lent, and I had strong hopes that during this six weeks of abstinence, I'd look at my Bible every time I was tempted to check facebook. I was so excited to rid my brain of the mental clutter of other peoples' status reports about their dog, or their favorite starbucks, and I felt sure I'd have more air to breathe in my own head. (You know you need to give up facebook and twitter when you walk around all day thinking in a series of status updates-- and more than half of those updates have to do with food intake: Just poured new Trader Joe's Costa Rican in my favorite mug. @gooddays start with a single sip...cue the next ten minutes of thinking of the wittiest way to word that when I am supposed to be enjoying drinking it.)
Sadly, I have found over the course of the last five weeks that instead of checking my Bible when I want to check facebook, I've found new internet avenues to walk down and entertain myself with. Instagram...Gmail (even an ulta email is game for entertaining me)...People.com...in fact, I've realized, to my shame, that I've made worse decisions with my mental space lately than I would have if I had just stuck with the friendly updates of facebook. This is so typical. I give up pretzel mnms, thinking I'll eat carrots instead, and I suddenly discover chocolate chips.
The point is, I've been realizing how impossible it is for me to find rest in my brain. I am an entertainment junky. I want to have someone else feeding me my thoughts alot of the time. I want to break up the monotony of days by watching, listening to, or reading someone else's thoughts. What is so bad with just a day of hearing just the voices of the people I am with right then, or of watching just the movements of the folks I'm around, or contenting myself to read only the emotions and thoughts play on the face of Eden all day? It's like I can't handle the lack of options, the lack of distractions.
I've discovered a new favorite author: Grace Livingston Hill. As the good Lord would have it, she wrote almost a hundred books, so I'm set for a while. I have devoured her work, and the other day at the library I had a hard time deciding if I ought to carry Eden or the sack of thirteen of her first editions out to the car with me. Since she wrote before the first half of the 1900s, I feel like I'm mesmerized by how simply her characters live.
So I have been systematically going through my friend list, trying to get every one of my friends to start reading her books. When I was attempting to win another Grace Livingston Hill fan, my friend (who is also a mom) asked me, almost incredulously, "How do you find time to read?" In the words of a wise woman I know, I answered, "You make time for what you want to make time for." And sure, the window of time I get to read is usually after ten thirty, with Chad snoozing beside me and I'm reading by the glow of an led book light on my nook or on the tiny screen of my itouch...but it's my time to read. And it works.
Along with facebook, I felt like the Lord started to convict me yesterday about my reading habits. It's not that I read all day, by any means, but its that I let the books follow me. I am the kind of person who doesn't just see a movie. I am in the movie. Half the movies Chad wants to see I can't agree to go with him, because I know it will be too emotionally taxing on my heart. I need to save up that energy for real life. I'm realizing I need to adopt that attitude about books as well.
ie: The Hunger Games. After seeing the movie, naturally, I am re-reading the series. And I have started to realize that if I am going to invest precious leisure time reading something like this series, then I need to make sure I am not wasting any more of my day time thinking about them. I need to stop analyzing what I think about a certain character, about the plot, about the wording...when you start thinking you just saw a mockingjay fly across your window, you know you need to take a step back. ;-)
When I was thinking about this yesterday, I felt like the Lord reminded me of this verse in 2 Corinthians 10 about taking your thoughts captive. I've heard that verse all my life, and I've always applied it to impatient thoughts, discontented thoughts, jealous thoughts, self-pitying thoughts, etc. I never once thought to apply it to thoughts about things like books, or facebook updates, or what the latest celebrity is wearing. But if I can only think a certain number of thoughts a day, and my thoughts are basically on repeat, I need to be careful about what I'm thinking. Start filling up my leisure thoughts with things that are immediate, and centered on Jesus.
Jimmy Seibert's sermon (available free on Itunes from Antioch Community Church podcasts) on being grounded from two weeks ago has stuck with me. It's about the first of the two greatest commandments, Loving God with all your heart, soul, AND with all your mind. I can love God with my mind. With what I think about. With what I allow to entertain my mind. And so I'm asking God to help me take my thoughts captive so that my thoughts don't just fly past the Holy Spirit in rapid aimless fashion, without anything that grabs His attention or delights His heart. I want a mind that attracts Him, the mind that is set on the Spirit, the mind that is life and peace.
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
Wanderings
You have taken account of my wanderings; Put my tears in Your bottle. Are they not in Your book? Psalm 56:8
The following is based off of the insight of a college student. Last night, right before worship, this precious girl stood up and shared a picture the Lord had given her while she was spending time with Him earlier this week. It was one of those words that was so beautiful I was just wrecked inside. It was so huge. It was so big. I’ve been thinking about this whole morning, and I thought of a few people I so wanted to share it with, that I figured I might as well put it out here for everyone to take it. It’s the kind of word that is like a spread at Luby’s. It’s got enough to go around. It’s not meant for just the few. I am not sure why I just compared this really amazing word to something from Luby’s…but hopefully you get the picture. This is my narrative version of her words:
Failures. I wake up to them. I go to sleep with them. I dream about them. They haunt me when I’m alone, and they surface when I’m in a crowded room. Am I growing at all? Am I learning? Has any part of me changed since He came into my life? Or am I just the sum of my missing pieces, the scarred flesh of a wounded and wounding soul who is wearily searching the earth for some sort of repose? Have I travelled in circles for forty years of wandering, never getting any closer to my destination, never putting any miles between where I am and where I began? How can He be pleased with me, when there are days the only steps I take are in retreat, the only movements I make are backwards towards what I was, instead of towards what He wants me to be? Everytime someone talks about how much God loves me, I can’t help but feel a swell of shame in my chest. Why would He love me when I’ve nothing to give Him? How could He love me when I’ve failed Him this much?
And then I feel His hand in mine, clutching me close to Himself and willing me to follow Him. We’re walking through the halls of His home, so beautiful and unstained in its perfection. The more I see of that perfect place in which He lives, the more I’m aware how pitiful my attempt at making a home in my heart for Him truly is; He lives here? With all of this? And I offer Him a jigsaw puzzle of ill-fitted pieces? He can sense my unrest, and His searching glance is laced with pity. He quickens His pace, and we pass room after room of beautiful splendor, breath-taking majesty. Soon we’re running, He with sure, steady strides, and my legs awkwardly trying to keep pace. Down, down, down the halls of His home until we reach it. It’s a library filled with countless books, their casings worn from use and their volumes precious from handling. He makes a sweeping motion with his arm, across the walls that are teeming with these, His favorite chapters, and He stares right into my eyes and says, “These books are filled with every thought you’ve ever had about me. Every sentence, every word, every desire, every prayer you have ever uttered about Me and to Me, I’ve written down; I love to look through them, I love to read them again, I love to hear your heart for Me.”
And I’m standing in the middle of this space, this room where He feels so comfortable, lined with these innumerable books that are filled with my sloppy, second-hand thoughts and feeble attempts at knowing Him, and I’m left speechless. He kept all of them? That prayer from second grade? That sudden impulse I had in sixth grade to be baptized? That tear I cried in Juarez when I saw the abundance of joy in those who had nothing? That whisper of a prayer for help when I was in the middle of warring desires in my soul? That warm glow of thanksgiving I felt when I held my baby girl for the first time? You kept all of those? My eyes are hungrily taking in every book, every memory, every moment, the ones I’ve forgotten and the promises I’ve failed to keep, and realizing You haven’t failed to remember.
And then I hear Your voice again, saying, “As for your wrongs, your failures, and your trespasses against Me…I keep no record of them.”
The following is based off of the insight of a college student. Last night, right before worship, this precious girl stood up and shared a picture the Lord had given her while she was spending time with Him earlier this week. It was one of those words that was so beautiful I was just wrecked inside. It was so huge. It was so big. I’ve been thinking about this whole morning, and I thought of a few people I so wanted to share it with, that I figured I might as well put it out here for everyone to take it. It’s the kind of word that is like a spread at Luby’s. It’s got enough to go around. It’s not meant for just the few. I am not sure why I just compared this really amazing word to something from Luby’s…but hopefully you get the picture. This is my narrative version of her words:
Failures. I wake up to them. I go to sleep with them. I dream about them. They haunt me when I’m alone, and they surface when I’m in a crowded room. Am I growing at all? Am I learning? Has any part of me changed since He came into my life? Or am I just the sum of my missing pieces, the scarred flesh of a wounded and wounding soul who is wearily searching the earth for some sort of repose? Have I travelled in circles for forty years of wandering, never getting any closer to my destination, never putting any miles between where I am and where I began? How can He be pleased with me, when there are days the only steps I take are in retreat, the only movements I make are backwards towards what I was, instead of towards what He wants me to be? Everytime someone talks about how much God loves me, I can’t help but feel a swell of shame in my chest. Why would He love me when I’ve nothing to give Him? How could He love me when I’ve failed Him this much?
And then I feel His hand in mine, clutching me close to Himself and willing me to follow Him. We’re walking through the halls of His home, so beautiful and unstained in its perfection. The more I see of that perfect place in which He lives, the more I’m aware how pitiful my attempt at making a home in my heart for Him truly is; He lives here? With all of this? And I offer Him a jigsaw puzzle of ill-fitted pieces? He can sense my unrest, and His searching glance is laced with pity. He quickens His pace, and we pass room after room of beautiful splendor, breath-taking majesty. Soon we’re running, He with sure, steady strides, and my legs awkwardly trying to keep pace. Down, down, down the halls of His home until we reach it. It’s a library filled with countless books, their casings worn from use and their volumes precious from handling. He makes a sweeping motion with his arm, across the walls that are teeming with these, His favorite chapters, and He stares right into my eyes and says, “These books are filled with every thought you’ve ever had about me. Every sentence, every word, every desire, every prayer you have ever uttered about Me and to Me, I’ve written down; I love to look through them, I love to read them again, I love to hear your heart for Me.”
And I’m standing in the middle of this space, this room where He feels so comfortable, lined with these innumerable books that are filled with my sloppy, second-hand thoughts and feeble attempts at knowing Him, and I’m left speechless. He kept all of them? That prayer from second grade? That sudden impulse I had in sixth grade to be baptized? That tear I cried in Juarez when I saw the abundance of joy in those who had nothing? That whisper of a prayer for help when I was in the middle of warring desires in my soul? That warm glow of thanksgiving I felt when I held my baby girl for the first time? You kept all of those? My eyes are hungrily taking in every book, every memory, every moment, the ones I’ve forgotten and the promises I’ve failed to keep, and realizing You haven’t failed to remember.
And then I hear Your voice again, saying, “As for your wrongs, your failures, and your trespasses against Me…I keep no record of them.”
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Covering Wounds
This won't be much of a blog. I just wanted to get out some thoughts I was having and maybe offer them to you, hopefully to encourage you, even if its just one person. There is something so sweet about walking through a hard place with our faces down and loneliness creeping up on our hearts, only to realize the sound of someone else walking beside us, through a very similar season. It makes the burden half as heavy.
"He who covers a transgression seeks love, but he who repeats a matter separates close friends." Proverbs 17:9
I was thinking about this verse this morning, and marvelling at my own inability to do what it says. It's always a good sign that I need to invite the Holy Spirit to work on my heart when I read something like this and my first thought is, "Well, that can't possibly apply to this situation."
As I was wrestling through this in my mind, I remembered something I'd heard once, I can't remember where, about the Lord. Our Lord never asks us to do something for others that He hasn't already done, in some form, for us.
When someone says something, with or without intention, that hurts my feelings or hurts my heart,I react by trying to cover that wounded place in my heart. I immediately retract inside of myself to make sure I'm okay, to lick my proverbial wounds. But what if instead of reacting to cover that place in me that was hurt, I try to cover that person in my mind? What if I stopped analyzing the size and gravity of my wound, and just started speaking out a blessing on the person who inflicted it? What if I had faith for other people's lives, and believed in the very best of who they were? Because behind every offense, isn't the deepest pain the disappointment we feel that someone isn't what we thought they were? That someone we believed was our friend and confidant has suddenly become distant and maybe even mean-spirited?
I think God's heart is for us to give grace to the people around us. To look at them and see what the Lord sees...someone with divine purpose, eternal standing before the Throne, and a place in God's heart. Someone of so much value and worth that our Father was willing to sacrifice everything to win them a place in Heaven. Someone worthy of our love, hope, and forgiveness.
It's easier, probably, to do this with someone who didn't actually intend to offend us, or hurt our feelings. It's harder to do it we know someone meant to snub us, or exclude us, or ruffle our feathers. But that's when it becomes even more necessary. It goes along with the saying, "Hurt people hurt people". And that person might be one word of encouragement, one word of affirmation away from being lifted out of the pit they are stuck in. And how much more powerful would the encouragement be if it came from someone they'd just hurt?
When Chad and I fight, it basically is me fighting and Chad sitting back and listening, or laughing...depending on how ridiculous I'm being. Truly. But there isn't anything better for my heart then when I come back after ranting about something and calling him names that I don't really mean, to find that he still loves me. And not only that he loves me, but he still sees the woman he fell in love with and married and he's got the guts to forgive me and we get to start again. Sometimes its in those moments just after a fight that I feel closest to him. It's amazing what it does for my heart just to know that one person, perhaps the person whose opinion matters most, believes in the woman I am becoming rather than the woman I am.
Isn't that what Jesus does for us every single day?
Revelation 12:10 describes the enemy as "the accuser of our brethren, who accused them before our God day and night". He's constantly bringing up my sins, even in the court of God, trying to get God to give up hope in my life. But 1 John 2:1 says: "If anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." That word advocate is parakletos: summoned, called to one's side, especially called to one's aid, one who pleads another's cause before a judge, a pleader, counsel for defense, legal assistant, an advocate, one who pleads another's cause with one, an intercessor; of Christ in his exaltation at God's right hand, pleading with God the Father for the pardon of our sins,in the widest sense, a helper, succourer, aider, assistant.
When I was little and I'd get in trouble, I would burst into tears and start apologising. I guess I hated relational tension, even at a really young age. I can vividly remember a few times like that, where I just couldn't handle my mom being disappointed me. And she was the best about letting me know it was okay, and she still loved me. I've not really grown out of that. If I do something that I know dishonors the Lord, I gotta go to Him. I have to make sure He doesn't hate me. And despite the millions of times I've failed Him, He's never once given me the cold shoulder or told me to come back later when the wound wasn't so fresh. He just lets me right back in, and we pick up where we left off. He doesn't start rearranging my future because now He really knows who I am, and He's not so confident I will ever get to where He's planned for me to. He's not begrudging. He's got the most endless patience of anyone I know. And He wants us to forgive like He does. To handle offense like He does.
So the next time someone offends me, steals my joy, hurts my feelings, I want to show them the same grace Jesus shows me. To believe in my heart the best about them, to see the person they are truly, and to offer them immediate forgiveness, whether they've asked for it or not. It's going to take so much emotional effort to do those things I won't possibly have time to analyze how bad I'm hurt. And that's just fine, because I'll probably just bring infection if I start to try and fix it myself; the Lord is the shepherd and overseer of my soul, and He is my Good Physician.
*Disclaimer: Since posting this, I've had a few precious friends start asking if they offended me or if I am offended...and I feel awful! I wrote this during a quiet time, when I was reading that verse and with no particular time in mind. I just was thinking about how the Lord wants me to handle offense, and how I've failed in the past at it. As a general rule, I never want to blog out of venting or pointed at anyone person or time or event!! Please forgive me if I caused any confusion! It was unintended, and I'm so sorry!
"He who covers a transgression seeks love, but he who repeats a matter separates close friends." Proverbs 17:9
I was thinking about this verse this morning, and marvelling at my own inability to do what it says. It's always a good sign that I need to invite the Holy Spirit to work on my heart when I read something like this and my first thought is, "Well, that can't possibly apply to this situation."
As I was wrestling through this in my mind, I remembered something I'd heard once, I can't remember where, about the Lord. Our Lord never asks us to do something for others that He hasn't already done, in some form, for us.
When someone says something, with or without intention, that hurts my feelings or hurts my heart,I react by trying to cover that wounded place in my heart. I immediately retract inside of myself to make sure I'm okay, to lick my proverbial wounds. But what if instead of reacting to cover that place in me that was hurt, I try to cover that person in my mind? What if I stopped analyzing the size and gravity of my wound, and just started speaking out a blessing on the person who inflicted it? What if I had faith for other people's lives, and believed in the very best of who they were? Because behind every offense, isn't the deepest pain the disappointment we feel that someone isn't what we thought they were? That someone we believed was our friend and confidant has suddenly become distant and maybe even mean-spirited?
I think God's heart is for us to give grace to the people around us. To look at them and see what the Lord sees...someone with divine purpose, eternal standing before the Throne, and a place in God's heart. Someone of so much value and worth that our Father was willing to sacrifice everything to win them a place in Heaven. Someone worthy of our love, hope, and forgiveness.
It's easier, probably, to do this with someone who didn't actually intend to offend us, or hurt our feelings. It's harder to do it we know someone meant to snub us, or exclude us, or ruffle our feathers. But that's when it becomes even more necessary. It goes along with the saying, "Hurt people hurt people". And that person might be one word of encouragement, one word of affirmation away from being lifted out of the pit they are stuck in. And how much more powerful would the encouragement be if it came from someone they'd just hurt?
When Chad and I fight, it basically is me fighting and Chad sitting back and listening, or laughing...depending on how ridiculous I'm being. Truly. But there isn't anything better for my heart then when I come back after ranting about something and calling him names that I don't really mean, to find that he still loves me. And not only that he loves me, but he still sees the woman he fell in love with and married and he's got the guts to forgive me and we get to start again. Sometimes its in those moments just after a fight that I feel closest to him. It's amazing what it does for my heart just to know that one person, perhaps the person whose opinion matters most, believes in the woman I am becoming rather than the woman I am.
Isn't that what Jesus does for us every single day?
Revelation 12:10 describes the enemy as "the accuser of our brethren, who accused them before our God day and night". He's constantly bringing up my sins, even in the court of God, trying to get God to give up hope in my life. But 1 John 2:1 says: "If anyone does sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous." That word advocate is parakletos: summoned, called to one's side, especially called to one's aid, one who pleads another's cause before a judge, a pleader, counsel for defense, legal assistant, an advocate, one who pleads another's cause with one, an intercessor; of Christ in his exaltation at God's right hand, pleading with God the Father for the pardon of our sins,in the widest sense, a helper, succourer, aider, assistant.
When I was little and I'd get in trouble, I would burst into tears and start apologising. I guess I hated relational tension, even at a really young age. I can vividly remember a few times like that, where I just couldn't handle my mom being disappointed me. And she was the best about letting me know it was okay, and she still loved me. I've not really grown out of that. If I do something that I know dishonors the Lord, I gotta go to Him. I have to make sure He doesn't hate me. And despite the millions of times I've failed Him, He's never once given me the cold shoulder or told me to come back later when the wound wasn't so fresh. He just lets me right back in, and we pick up where we left off. He doesn't start rearranging my future because now He really knows who I am, and He's not so confident I will ever get to where He's planned for me to. He's not begrudging. He's got the most endless patience of anyone I know. And He wants us to forgive like He does. To handle offense like He does.
So the next time someone offends me, steals my joy, hurts my feelings, I want to show them the same grace Jesus shows me. To believe in my heart the best about them, to see the person they are truly, and to offer them immediate forgiveness, whether they've asked for it or not. It's going to take so much emotional effort to do those things I won't possibly have time to analyze how bad I'm hurt. And that's just fine, because I'll probably just bring infection if I start to try and fix it myself; the Lord is the shepherd and overseer of my soul, and He is my Good Physician.
*Disclaimer: Since posting this, I've had a few precious friends start asking if they offended me or if I am offended...and I feel awful! I wrote this during a quiet time, when I was reading that verse and with no particular time in mind. I just was thinking about how the Lord wants me to handle offense, and how I've failed in the past at it. As a general rule, I never want to blog out of venting or pointed at anyone person or time or event!! Please forgive me if I caused any confusion! It was unintended, and I'm so sorry!
Friday, January 13, 2012
Why I Love Friday the 13th
You know what I love about the Lord? He likes to turn bad things good. He loves doing a gigantic flip. He loves redemption. It was His idea to create us, to give us the option of obedience or wandering, to become like us so He could redeem us- buy us back, give His life for us, change the first Adam's curse into the second Adam's blessing of eternal life and redemption. This is the kind of stuff that burns my heart, and gives me a caffeine high-- no caffeine necessary. Personally, I think He has a flare for the dramatic. He has the best ideas. I mean, think of all the creative wonderful people in the world, and then think that everybody is made in the image of the Creator. That means He is the most adventurous, most hilarious, most kind, most inventive, most talented person/God/Spirit/thing. Job 26:14 says, "And these are but the outerfringe of His works; how faint the whisper we hear of Him." And Job was a man who its safe to say knew God....but he says all he knew was just the faint whisper of who God was-- and from what I know of God, all I see is goodness, kindness, gentleness, joy. I already think He is immeasurably these things, but I can't imagine what the true God looks like if the outerfringe and faint whisper is already this poignant. Selah, right?
So that's why I have to blog about loving Friday the thirteenth. Seriously, I always kind of get tickled when its a Friday the thirteenth. I heard this morning that this year, 2012, we will have three Friday the 13ths and that they are each 13 weeks apart. Someone was going on about how creepy it is, and how that's got to mean something. I'd like to tell you what that means: we oughta get excited. Want to know what happens when the enemy tries to stir up fear and superstition in things like this? God shows up. And He turns things on their head. Because Satan is already eternally damned. The gig's up. The end is written. God wins.
I was listening to a sermon the other day about how sometimes we adopt our cultural truths as Biblical truths...and we don't even realize that what our world says is valid might be totally against what God says. I think superstition is one of those. No, I know superstition is one of those things. I grew up in a house where we weren't aloud to say "good luck". We weren't allowed to talk about luck. Luck, Mom said, was inconsistent with faith. So we would say, "God bless you" or something like that. I never found a penny, picked it up and all day long I had good luck. On the flip side, I've broken a mirror, walked underneath a few ladders, seen some black cats, and lived through some Friday the 13ths. And I don't live in fear. Because I've been brought into the safezone. Like when you play tag at recess and the one place that leaves you immune to whoever is chasing you, that's what the Lord is for us. He is an umbrella of peace, a covering, a Rock that is set on high, and He enables us to stand on the heights, to run to Him for refuge. No weapon formed against us prospers, and
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty...He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge, His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart...a thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand, but it shall not come near you.If you make the Most High your dwelling--even the LORD, who is my refuge then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent.For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways;they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone." Psalm 91
I love Ephesians 6, and the armor of God. One reason I may love it is because my little brother used to have a BibleMan costume-- yes, that's right, Bibleman-- complete with all of the armor mentioned in the aforesaid chapter. When my sister Lindsay was home from college, she could get nasty if you woke her up and were yourself defenseless, so we'd send in Josh decked out in his Bibleman gear. Sometimes he came away unscathed. Sometimes. But the point is, in that awesome chapter, we learn what kind of weapons we have, what kind of armor we have, and this particular point is relevant for this post:
"In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one."
I like the guarantee of success here: if you have faith you CAN (the greek verb is dynamai, which means 1) to be able, have power whether by virtue of one's own ability and resources, or of a state of mind, or through favourable circumstances, or by permission of law or custom; 2) to be able to do something;3) to be capable, strong and powerful) extinguish the flaming arrows of the evil one. I don't know why but I've always thought flaming arrows are thoughts, especially thoughts of fear. If you let one hit you, it can pretty much consume everything. Fear can be so paralyzing. But faith trumps fear. Faith shields our hearts. And for this year, I have faith that this despite the number of 13s involved, it's God's year. And in Him we live and move and find our being, and we're safe.
So that's why I have to blog about loving Friday the thirteenth. Seriously, I always kind of get tickled when its a Friday the thirteenth. I heard this morning that this year, 2012, we will have three Friday the 13ths and that they are each 13 weeks apart. Someone was going on about how creepy it is, and how that's got to mean something. I'd like to tell you what that means: we oughta get excited. Want to know what happens when the enemy tries to stir up fear and superstition in things like this? God shows up. And He turns things on their head. Because Satan is already eternally damned. The gig's up. The end is written. God wins.
I was listening to a sermon the other day about how sometimes we adopt our cultural truths as Biblical truths...and we don't even realize that what our world says is valid might be totally against what God says. I think superstition is one of those. No, I know superstition is one of those things. I grew up in a house where we weren't aloud to say "good luck". We weren't allowed to talk about luck. Luck, Mom said, was inconsistent with faith. So we would say, "God bless you" or something like that. I never found a penny, picked it up and all day long I had good luck. On the flip side, I've broken a mirror, walked underneath a few ladders, seen some black cats, and lived through some Friday the 13ths. And I don't live in fear. Because I've been brought into the safezone. Like when you play tag at recess and the one place that leaves you immune to whoever is chasing you, that's what the Lord is for us. He is an umbrella of peace, a covering, a Rock that is set on high, and He enables us to stand on the heights, to run to Him for refuge. No weapon formed against us prospers, and
"He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty...He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge, His faithfulness will be your shield and rampart...a thousand may fall at your side, and ten thousand at your right hand, but it shall not come near you.If you make the Most High your dwelling--even the LORD, who is my refuge then no harm will befall you, no disaster will come near your tent.For he will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways;they will lift you up in their hands, so that you will not strike your foot against a stone." Psalm 91
I love Ephesians 6, and the armor of God. One reason I may love it is because my little brother used to have a BibleMan costume-- yes, that's right, Bibleman-- complete with all of the armor mentioned in the aforesaid chapter. When my sister Lindsay was home from college, she could get nasty if you woke her up and were yourself defenseless, so we'd send in Josh decked out in his Bibleman gear. Sometimes he came away unscathed. Sometimes. But the point is, in that awesome chapter, we learn what kind of weapons we have, what kind of armor we have, and this particular point is relevant for this post:
"In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one."
I like the guarantee of success here: if you have faith you CAN (the greek verb is dynamai, which means 1) to be able, have power whether by virtue of one's own ability and resources, or of a state of mind, or through favourable circumstances, or by permission of law or custom; 2) to be able to do something;3) to be capable, strong and powerful) extinguish the flaming arrows of the evil one. I don't know why but I've always thought flaming arrows are thoughts, especially thoughts of fear. If you let one hit you, it can pretty much consume everything. Fear can be so paralyzing. But faith trumps fear. Faith shields our hearts. And for this year, I have faith that this despite the number of 13s involved, it's God's year. And in Him we live and move and find our being, and we're safe.
Tuesday, January 3, 2012
New Year's Resolutions
I like to think that I’ve developed a strong stomach since Eden was born. I’ve been dealing with all sorts of nasty situations for the past 17 months, including and not limited to: her vomit in my mouth, her dried poop lodged on my hands, ankles, etc., her half-chewed food spread all through my hair, and naturally, her saliva and snot constantly fighting for a home somewhere on my person. I draw the line, however, at backwash. Call me a bad mom, but I just can’t bear it. I remember the first couple of weeks that Eden was learning to drink from a straw, and how Chad and I, in our enthusiasm, would share with her whatever we were drinking. It only took a few times for me to realize that just as surely as she was drinking from my cup, she was also leaving a portion of whatever was in her mouth floating in the bottom of my drink. So now I have a rule: no drink-sharing when Eden is eating. It makes my life, and my beverages, that much more enjoyable.
I got back from a wonderful thirteen days of Texas yesterday, and I spent New Year’s Eve and Day trying to soak up my last minutes with my precious family. So, today, January 3rd, 2012, is technically my New Year’s. I’ve been making my list of resolutions, and it’s long enough to keep me busy for the next few months. Of course, there are the kind of resolutions that I am gleefully writing down— the ones I can’t wait to get started on. Then there are the resolutions that I keep avoiding. Like this one: No more trashy TV (aka The Bachelor). I have been ignoring that one all day but I finally realized it’s a nonnegotiable.
Nothing is more annoying then when people try and plant their convictions in your heart without your consent or desire…so take this with a grain of salt. This has just been the thought on my mind today. I keep thinking of excuses for why I can “handle” certain trash…whether its TV, movies, music, or books. Call me fragile, but I’ve been realizing lately that I really can’t handle certain songs, certain scenes, etc. I get disturbed easily. I get distracted easily. And I get discouraged easily. It doesn’t take much to throw me off. So I’ve been trying to learn how to stay the course, so to speak, with the Lord. How to avoid pitfalls, and how to guard my heart and my mind so that I don’t get bogged down.
One of my constant excuses about things like this with the Lord is that TV shows, movies, songs don’t really affect me that much. I get over it. Sometimes I don’t even think about it. Sometimes. But I felt like the Lord reminded me today of Eden drinking out of my drinks. I would have this delicious, tall glass of sweet tea sitting in front of me and I could be so excited to drink it, but after Eden had a sip, it was filled with nasty floating food particles, and basically it ruined my joy. Because I believe in Jesus, I have the mind of Christ. It’s a brand spanking new mind—like that cup of sweet tea, perfectly brewed, with just the right amount of sugar-water and ice cubes—but if I choose to start watching stuff or listening to stuff or reading stuff that isn’t approved by God, I can really quickly start filling it with junk. And I felt like the Lord answered my predicament about reality TV and the like…whether it affects me or not, there will be floaties in my drink.
I got back from a wonderful thirteen days of Texas yesterday, and I spent New Year’s Eve and Day trying to soak up my last minutes with my precious family. So, today, January 3rd, 2012, is technically my New Year’s. I’ve been making my list of resolutions, and it’s long enough to keep me busy for the next few months. Of course, there are the kind of resolutions that I am gleefully writing down— the ones I can’t wait to get started on. Then there are the resolutions that I keep avoiding. Like this one: No more trashy TV (aka The Bachelor). I have been ignoring that one all day but I finally realized it’s a nonnegotiable.
Nothing is more annoying then when people try and plant their convictions in your heart without your consent or desire…so take this with a grain of salt. This has just been the thought on my mind today. I keep thinking of excuses for why I can “handle” certain trash…whether its TV, movies, music, or books. Call me fragile, but I’ve been realizing lately that I really can’t handle certain songs, certain scenes, etc. I get disturbed easily. I get distracted easily. And I get discouraged easily. It doesn’t take much to throw me off. So I’ve been trying to learn how to stay the course, so to speak, with the Lord. How to avoid pitfalls, and how to guard my heart and my mind so that I don’t get bogged down.
One of my constant excuses about things like this with the Lord is that TV shows, movies, songs don’t really affect me that much. I get over it. Sometimes I don’t even think about it. Sometimes. But I felt like the Lord reminded me today of Eden drinking out of my drinks. I would have this delicious, tall glass of sweet tea sitting in front of me and I could be so excited to drink it, but after Eden had a sip, it was filled with nasty floating food particles, and basically it ruined my joy. Because I believe in Jesus, I have the mind of Christ. It’s a brand spanking new mind—like that cup of sweet tea, perfectly brewed, with just the right amount of sugar-water and ice cubes—but if I choose to start watching stuff or listening to stuff or reading stuff that isn’t approved by God, I can really quickly start filling it with junk. And I felt like the Lord answered my predicament about reality TV and the like…whether it affects me or not, there will be floaties in my drink.
Monday, November 14, 2011
I'm Not Right
Chad and I had lunch together in Tyler one day before Eden was born, and we had gotten in the habit of assessing our life as a married couple a lot. I think it was because we only knew that this new person was entering in our family and we wanted to be sure we knew who we were and what we were about before we started training a mini-Freije. I could laugh now that at the time we were so afraid of what this new person was going to do to "us". We're more "us" now than ever before she was born.
But anyway, we were talking and I won't ever forget Chad's words. He looked up at me and had tears glistening in his eyes, (something not uncommon for Chad since he started considering his role as a dad...something that I still fight him over...there is only room for one emotional person in our family, and that role was filled a long time ago) and he said, "I just want to make sure that we always remember that we aren't right."
I nearly choked on my meal. What do you mean we want to remember we aren't right? If we aren't right, why are we living this way? If we aren't right, what's the point to making sure we stick to our convictions? But he calmly explained that he knows that at some level, our theology, our thoughts on a God who is much bigger and better than us, and on the millions of different people that God has lovingly formed and created totally unique from one another, are not always right. We don't have all the answers. We never will. We have some blind spots, because we're human, and because we're not in Heaven.
So where do we go from there? What do you do with the realization that you aren't right? Because I've lived my whole life pretty much thinking I was living the right away, and judging other people if I think they are living the wrong way. And that's what Chad meant, we don't have room to judge. Yes, the Bible is pretty clear about sin and immorality and greed and lying and things like that...but there are alot of gray areas. Like how to spend time with God. Is it morning or evening? Is it an hour a day or should I really be spending seven hours? Is it with worship or without? Or how to spend our money. Are we supposed to just tithe ten percent or do we always tithe thirty percent and never buy Starbucks because they may or may not be fair trade? Or, should every mom be a stay at home? Or should every mom realize that she needs to bear some of the financial load? Or are some mom's called to different things and some can work as nurses or nutritionists or photographers and am I missing that calling by staying at home? You get my gist. Almost every area of life is, in a sense, up for debate.
And over that lunch with Chad we both decided that ultimately, the reason we want to know we're right is because we want justification. We want approval. We want to know that we're doing okay, that we're on track. And so we look around and compare ourselves and try and judge ourselves by other people, totally unrelated to us, and we try and give each other thumbs up and thumbs down. But maybe the point of life is getting our cue from God. Letting Him direct us, and not looking to the right and left, trying to figure out whose more right than us or who is more wrong.
I don't know if we're the only couple who is tempted to think we're right all the time, but I know that it was at that lunch that the Lord threw down the gauntlet in my heart and said, No more. No more pride like that. And its not like I've never thought I was right since then or that I've never judged another person, but it's become really evident that I need more humility in my life. And its been really mind-blowing to tell myself, "Charis, you are not always right. In fact, you could be very wrong right now, so you better hush your mouth about your "neighbor" and go ask the Lord to search your heart." It's not been the easiest thing, and it's probably a life-long process of failing at it and reminding myself (or having the Lord remind me) and trying to walk in Love again. I'm not right, but Jesus is. It's a bitter pill for my pride to swallow. But its a good one. It's a true one.
It's like the tool we use to measure one another is broken, because we are all so different. So we have to throw it out and realize we aren't God. Not that this gives license for sin or for things that break God's heart, but it gives license for us to express His will in such different ways.
I'm starting to think that getting to know Jesus, and getting to know Truth, isn't something that happens in one day. It's not something that even happens in a few years. Really, no one is finished in their learning process, not even until the day we die. We're always learning.
"For our knowledge is fragmentary (incomplete and imperfect, and our prophecy (our teaching) is fragmentary (incomplete and imperfect. But when the complete and perfect (total) comes, the incomplete and imperfect will vanish away (become antiquated, void, and superseded)." 1 Corinthians 13:9-10
"The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, shining ever brighter until the full light of day." Psalm 4:18
Maybe in Heaven we'll have full knowledge right away, in that blinking of an eye, and we'll understand why everyone has their own journey, and why Jesus didn't expound on some things in the Bible. I've often wished we'd have more details about Jesus' way of life: what did He eat? Did He ever eat sweets? Or was He always mindful about health and wholeness? Did he sleep in ever, or was He always the first one awake? Is it wrong to press the snooze button? I mean, these may seem silly, but you see where I'm going.
Maybe He purposefully didn't give all the details so that we'd learn to listen, and learn to walk when and where He tells us and not try and tell everybody else what to do. And maybe that's what the journey of faith is, of learning to listen for His still small voice behind you saying, "this is the way, walk in it." And the way for you might not be the exact same way for me. It will look the same in some places, because we have the same artist painting out picture and every artist has his trademark strokes and touch. But at the end of it all the portrait of our lives won't look a thing like the person's next to us. And maybe that's just how He intended it.
But anyway, we were talking and I won't ever forget Chad's words. He looked up at me and had tears glistening in his eyes, (something not uncommon for Chad since he started considering his role as a dad...something that I still fight him over...there is only room for one emotional person in our family, and that role was filled a long time ago) and he said, "I just want to make sure that we always remember that we aren't right."
I nearly choked on my meal. What do you mean we want to remember we aren't right? If we aren't right, why are we living this way? If we aren't right, what's the point to making sure we stick to our convictions? But he calmly explained that he knows that at some level, our theology, our thoughts on a God who is much bigger and better than us, and on the millions of different people that God has lovingly formed and created totally unique from one another, are not always right. We don't have all the answers. We never will. We have some blind spots, because we're human, and because we're not in Heaven.
So where do we go from there? What do you do with the realization that you aren't right? Because I've lived my whole life pretty much thinking I was living the right away, and judging other people if I think they are living the wrong way. And that's what Chad meant, we don't have room to judge. Yes, the Bible is pretty clear about sin and immorality and greed and lying and things like that...but there are alot of gray areas. Like how to spend time with God. Is it morning or evening? Is it an hour a day or should I really be spending seven hours? Is it with worship or without? Or how to spend our money. Are we supposed to just tithe ten percent or do we always tithe thirty percent and never buy Starbucks because they may or may not be fair trade? Or, should every mom be a stay at home? Or should every mom realize that she needs to bear some of the financial load? Or are some mom's called to different things and some can work as nurses or nutritionists or photographers and am I missing that calling by staying at home? You get my gist. Almost every area of life is, in a sense, up for debate.
And over that lunch with Chad we both decided that ultimately, the reason we want to know we're right is because we want justification. We want approval. We want to know that we're doing okay, that we're on track. And so we look around and compare ourselves and try and judge ourselves by other people, totally unrelated to us, and we try and give each other thumbs up and thumbs down. But maybe the point of life is getting our cue from God. Letting Him direct us, and not looking to the right and left, trying to figure out whose more right than us or who is more wrong.
I don't know if we're the only couple who is tempted to think we're right all the time, but I know that it was at that lunch that the Lord threw down the gauntlet in my heart and said, No more. No more pride like that. And its not like I've never thought I was right since then or that I've never judged another person, but it's become really evident that I need more humility in my life. And its been really mind-blowing to tell myself, "Charis, you are not always right. In fact, you could be very wrong right now, so you better hush your mouth about your "neighbor" and go ask the Lord to search your heart." It's not been the easiest thing, and it's probably a life-long process of failing at it and reminding myself (or having the Lord remind me) and trying to walk in Love again. I'm not right, but Jesus is. It's a bitter pill for my pride to swallow. But its a good one. It's a true one.
It's like the tool we use to measure one another is broken, because we are all so different. So we have to throw it out and realize we aren't God. Not that this gives license for sin or for things that break God's heart, but it gives license for us to express His will in such different ways.
I'm starting to think that getting to know Jesus, and getting to know Truth, isn't something that happens in one day. It's not something that even happens in a few years. Really, no one is finished in their learning process, not even until the day we die. We're always learning.
"For our knowledge is fragmentary (incomplete and imperfect, and our prophecy (our teaching) is fragmentary (incomplete and imperfect. But when the complete and perfect (total) comes, the incomplete and imperfect will vanish away (become antiquated, void, and superseded)." 1 Corinthians 13:9-10
"The path of the righteous is like the first gleam of dawn, shining ever brighter until the full light of day." Psalm 4:18
Maybe in Heaven we'll have full knowledge right away, in that blinking of an eye, and we'll understand why everyone has their own journey, and why Jesus didn't expound on some things in the Bible. I've often wished we'd have more details about Jesus' way of life: what did He eat? Did He ever eat sweets? Or was He always mindful about health and wholeness? Did he sleep in ever, or was He always the first one awake? Is it wrong to press the snooze button? I mean, these may seem silly, but you see where I'm going.
Maybe He purposefully didn't give all the details so that we'd learn to listen, and learn to walk when and where He tells us and not try and tell everybody else what to do. And maybe that's what the journey of faith is, of learning to listen for His still small voice behind you saying, "this is the way, walk in it." And the way for you might not be the exact same way for me. It will look the same in some places, because we have the same artist painting out picture and every artist has his trademark strokes and touch. But at the end of it all the portrait of our lives won't look a thing like the person's next to us. And maybe that's just how He intended it.
Friday, November 11, 2011
"I think thankfulness is like a flower. It needs care and cherishing if it to live and grow. Perhaps thankfulness, even more than some other qualities that seem to come naturally to us, is in need of cherishing, because of the withering winds of life. The best way to cause it to grow strong in our hearts is to be careful never to let ourselves be unthankful. Has anyone done anything to help me and I have said nothing about it? (It is not enough to thank God; we should thank the one to whom He gave the loving thought that caused the loving deed.) Has anyone prepared a surprise for me and I have been blind to it? or if I noticed it, have I been dumb? If we have been careless about this, let us put it right. I often think we must disappoint our kind Father by not noticing the little things (as well as the countless great things) that He does to give us pleasure. Perhaps we should begin by thinking more of what His children do for love of Him and for love of us too." - Amy Carmichael
Last night I let Eden watch a few minutes of Nick Jr. and the Blue's Clues guy came on and was talking about thankfulness and what all the characters on his show are thankful for, and I thought-- this is such a wonderful reminder. Everybody, whether they know God or not, can recognize that an attitude of thankfulness is a good thing. Not only does it serve as a hot air balloon for my heart, it also is a weapon against destructive thoughts and self pity. I found myself this morning thinking about problems I see in other people and I had to stop myself and say, "Charis, how about we be grateful for the wonderful people in our life?" and so I started to list out reasons I am thankful for the people I know and those nasty little thoughts retreated. I think it goes along with the verse that if we draw near to God, the devil will flee from us. Psalms tells us to enter His gates with thanksgiving in our hearts, and our courts with praise. When I was little I'd associate that verse with actually being in Heaven, but I think it's a right-now-reality. If our bodies are temple of the Holy Spirit, then His presence is with us, and He is attracted to thankfulness. So boom...when you get thankful, things like depression, moodiness, anxiety, complaining, bitterness, basically anything that is against God, flees from you. It's like turning on a light in a dark room. I've never seen a shred of darkness put up a fight. It's go to go.
As for the quote at the top, I stumbled across this little treasure of a reminder this morning, and it seemed so fitting for today. Amy Carmichael was a missionary to India, and for the last twenty years of her life she was bedridden with a chronic illness. She spent those years writing letters to all of the people she knew and cared for, encouraging them to love Jesus, to love others, and to keep the faith. This is one of her letters. It never really impressed me so much that she'd write all these letters (which have been compiled into multiple books)until yesterday- when I had my first encounter with food poisoning.
Chad and I spent almost an entire day literally plastered to our couches, and the worst part was, we couldn't watch the food network shows we love, because we'd feel even worse. There were so many times yesterday where I thought about how terrible sickness is, and how its really hard to focus on the Lord when I feel like my stomach is attacking me.
While we were laying on our couches, bundled in blankets and trying to nibble on saltines and taking tentative sips of ginger ale, Chad kept saying how we needed to focus on what God's done for us (probably because I was complaining too much). And when we started reciting all the ways He has been faithful to us, it wasn't long before we started to forget about how sick we felt. And during my worse moments, Eden would be zooming past me with her popper vacuum trailing behind her, and I'd burst out laughing. And it helped so much to laugh too. Its amazing how God made laughter, made thankfulness and praise as buoys for our souls. They keep us afloat.
It's amazing too what being sick did for my perspective. I woke up this morning and all I wanted to do was clean the house. I have been beside myself with happiness. I've managed to do three loads of laundry, clean two bathrooms, scrub down our sinks, refrigerator, oven, and microwave, and organize our ungodly number of magazines...and its only 10:30. I feel like walking outside and shouting, "I'm alive! I will be okay!" There were moments yesterday I thought I'd never eat again. And really, I have to admit that I'm really thankful for food poisoning. Because it taught me how great my day to day life is.
"through Him, then, let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that give thanks to His name." Hebrews 13:5
Last night I let Eden watch a few minutes of Nick Jr. and the Blue's Clues guy came on and was talking about thankfulness and what all the characters on his show are thankful for, and I thought-- this is such a wonderful reminder. Everybody, whether they know God or not, can recognize that an attitude of thankfulness is a good thing. Not only does it serve as a hot air balloon for my heart, it also is a weapon against destructive thoughts and self pity. I found myself this morning thinking about problems I see in other people and I had to stop myself and say, "Charis, how about we be grateful for the wonderful people in our life?" and so I started to list out reasons I am thankful for the people I know and those nasty little thoughts retreated. I think it goes along with the verse that if we draw near to God, the devil will flee from us. Psalms tells us to enter His gates with thanksgiving in our hearts, and our courts with praise. When I was little I'd associate that verse with actually being in Heaven, but I think it's a right-now-reality. If our bodies are temple of the Holy Spirit, then His presence is with us, and He is attracted to thankfulness. So boom...when you get thankful, things like depression, moodiness, anxiety, complaining, bitterness, basically anything that is against God, flees from you. It's like turning on a light in a dark room. I've never seen a shred of darkness put up a fight. It's go to go.
As for the quote at the top, I stumbled across this little treasure of a reminder this morning, and it seemed so fitting for today. Amy Carmichael was a missionary to India, and for the last twenty years of her life she was bedridden with a chronic illness. She spent those years writing letters to all of the people she knew and cared for, encouraging them to love Jesus, to love others, and to keep the faith. This is one of her letters. It never really impressed me so much that she'd write all these letters (which have been compiled into multiple books)until yesterday- when I had my first encounter with food poisoning.
Chad and I spent almost an entire day literally plastered to our couches, and the worst part was, we couldn't watch the food network shows we love, because we'd feel even worse. There were so many times yesterday where I thought about how terrible sickness is, and how its really hard to focus on the Lord when I feel like my stomach is attacking me.
While we were laying on our couches, bundled in blankets and trying to nibble on saltines and taking tentative sips of ginger ale, Chad kept saying how we needed to focus on what God's done for us (probably because I was complaining too much). And when we started reciting all the ways He has been faithful to us, it wasn't long before we started to forget about how sick we felt. And during my worse moments, Eden would be zooming past me with her popper vacuum trailing behind her, and I'd burst out laughing. And it helped so much to laugh too. Its amazing how God made laughter, made thankfulness and praise as buoys for our souls. They keep us afloat.
It's amazing too what being sick did for my perspective. I woke up this morning and all I wanted to do was clean the house. I have been beside myself with happiness. I've managed to do three loads of laundry, clean two bathrooms, scrub down our sinks, refrigerator, oven, and microwave, and organize our ungodly number of magazines...and its only 10:30. I feel like walking outside and shouting, "I'm alive! I will be okay!" There were moments yesterday I thought I'd never eat again. And really, I have to admit that I'm really thankful for food poisoning. Because it taught me how great my day to day life is.
"through Him, then, let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that give thanks to His name." Hebrews 13:5
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