"You shall utterly destroy all the places where the nations which you shall dispossess served their gods, on the high mountains and on the hills and under every green tree. And you shall destroy their altars, break their sacred pillars, and burn their wooden images with fire...But you shall seek the place where the Lord your God chooses, out of all the tribes, to put His name for His dwelling place; and there you shall go...You shall not at all do as we are doing here today--- every man doing whatever is right in his own eyes--- for as yet you have not come to the rest and the inheritance which the Lord your God is giving you. But when you cross over the Jordan and dwell in the land which the Lord your God is giving you to inherit, and He gives you rest from all your enemies round about, so that you dwell in safety, then there will be the place where the Lord your God chooses to make His name abide." Deuteronomy 12:2-11 (parts).
I'm tracking the journey of the Israelites and have come to the place where they're about to enter the full promised land. They're about to cross the Jordan so the other 9 1/2 tribes can gain their inherited land as well. Deuteronomy is a fantastic book in that it so far summarizes the Israelite journey, standing as a great pillar of reminder of the good God has done and the miraculous ways He has brought His people through the hard things of life to mold them and shape them to enter His goodness (which is coming soon!).
And as I read this particular passage I find myself once again understanding similar emotions these people must have felt. At a summary level it's very easy to quickly draw the conclusion that these people were ignorant, self-serving, small-picture people who were too stuborn to follow God because they wanted the blessing immediately and wanted it without fear and possible heartache. It's easy to draw the conclusion that it was easier back then to know the Will of God because He spoke it directly to them. I often find myself thinking that even I could have followed God fairly successfully (at least more successfully than they did) back then. But then in passages like this I'm reminded that we're all human, and therefore so very similar. You'd think we've evolved over the centuries but the heart and emotional matters, the cares and concerns, haven't really changed too much, as I now see.
They didn't want the hard times, the sadness, the pain and trouble. They didn't want to spend all their time honoring God and supressing all their humanity. They didn't want to persevere, they wanted the blessing immediately. It reminds me of the psychology study done years ago with the small children. The adult tester put some type of treat (like a hershey kiss or something) in front of the child. The adult then left the room, telling the child that if the treat was still there when the adult got back the child would get double treats. The idea was to see if the child could hold out and be disciplined enough to get more in the end. If you watch the video you see kids struggling to hold out, trying their best but odds were good they'd eat the candy before the adult returned.
It reminds me because far too often we're that child that tries for a short time to do good, to act justly and to love mercy but we get off the path. We start to see the gray areas and we take baby steps off the narrow road without even realizing the cost. We focus on that one piece of candy (immediate pleasure and ease to our desires and wants) instead of focusing on the long-term, better reward. And in our case, that long-term reward is eternal, not just double the immediate pleasure with 2 candies.
But I look at the Isrealites and that's the exact summation of their problems.God had promised them this grand inheritance filled with peace and prosperity. He promised them abundance. And I pity them because so many times it was within their grasp and they still couldn't set aside their humanity for long enough to take up God's free gift.
And then I take a step back and realize I'm to be pitied too. I can't set aside my earthly pleasures for the eternal reward. I've sunk too far into the American way of life and grown too accustomed to luxury and ease. We want our cake and we want to eat it too- right now. And yet we think these things will make us happy; we think they'll satisfy us, even if just for the moment until we find the next thing to work. But as C.S. Lewis says, “We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and immorality and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like a ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”
They had no idea the actual glory God had in store for them if they'd just obey Him. If they'd just follow Him and trust Him He had exceedingly great joy in store for them. And yet we, like they, continue to fool about and seek pleasure here, too often forgetting we're setting our bar way too low.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Tuesday, February 08, 2011
A Moment that Changes Your Life
I've always looked for a moment that would change my life. A moment that would alter my reality and set me straight. A moment that I would always look back on and say that was the day that things changed, things became different, and I forever steered my life in the right direction. But I now realize the deep problems with that sentiment.
As I grew up most people I encountered in the Christian life pointed to a particular calendar day in a particular year where they were saved- at summer camp or sitting in the pew at church or in the desperate hours of loss. They reference that day as when life changed. They were lost but now they're found. And as much as I've been totally ok with not having a particular date I look back on to mark my Christian start, I think I've subconsciously still been waiting on a day that would alter my existence.
That may sound strange and you may be wondering if I'm saying I'm not "saved." I'm not saying that. I've been redeemed, no doubt. I'm saying though that we hear so many testimonies about I once was lost but now I'm found and we're prone to want that huge jump start so much so that we sit around waiting on it, all along letting life and love pass us by.
Everyday I wake up wanting that miraculous event to occur that will alter my existence. But I read a verse just now and it occurred to me that the event has already happened. And it's not the event that I want, it's the shedding of all the human weight I carry around each day.
"For the grace of God has appeared; bringing salvation to all men, instructing us to deny ungodlinesss and worldly desires and to live sensibly, righteously and godly in the present age" Titus 2:11-12.
The life altering change has happened. Jesus lived perfectly, died to take my place and defeated death by rising from it. The grace of God has appeared. It's happened and salvation has come. But what I didn't learn very well is that once I come on board with this belief (getting saved, that is) I've now entered a new fight. It's fight against evil, against our humanity, against myself. You may be different, but my ungodliness and worldly desires didn't go anywhere after I became a Christian and no matter what miraculous events happen in my life, they'll always be hanging around. And until I shed this earthly body I'll continue on in my humanity, unable to escape it's grasp without Jesus.
But the key to the battle is not some one-time, life-altering event. It's the day-to-day struggle, the moment-to-moment defeat of selfish desires, evil thoughts, slothfulness and materialism. It's not some event that's going to happen; it's my daily decision to be like Christ and to honor Him above myself. It's my committing to let Him do it because I'm continuing to remind myself that I can't do it. It's not a cop out; it's not laissez faire; it's not taking the easy road. It's actually taking the really hard road by letting Him do all. I don't think it's something you can really teach kids or new Christians. I think it's a surrender you've got to feel, to realize and recognize when you get so tired of fighting the battle on your own. That's the spot where God really works.
Life's about the day-to-day struggles and tribulations that make us more like Him. A moment probably won't change your life, but a lifetime will. A lifetime of combating the worldly desires knowing that He's working and He's doing and He's providing much, much more than we could ask or hope for.
As I grew up most people I encountered in the Christian life pointed to a particular calendar day in a particular year where they were saved- at summer camp or sitting in the pew at church or in the desperate hours of loss. They reference that day as when life changed. They were lost but now they're found. And as much as I've been totally ok with not having a particular date I look back on to mark my Christian start, I think I've subconsciously still been waiting on a day that would alter my existence.
That may sound strange and you may be wondering if I'm saying I'm not "saved." I'm not saying that. I've been redeemed, no doubt. I'm saying though that we hear so many testimonies about I once was lost but now I'm found and we're prone to want that huge jump start so much so that we sit around waiting on it, all along letting life and love pass us by.
Everyday I wake up wanting that miraculous event to occur that will alter my existence. But I read a verse just now and it occurred to me that the event has already happened. And it's not the event that I want, it's the shedding of all the human weight I carry around each day.
"For the grace of God has appeared; bringing salvation to all men, instructing us to deny ungodlinesss and worldly desires and to live sensibly, righteously and godly in the present age" Titus 2:11-12.
The life altering change has happened. Jesus lived perfectly, died to take my place and defeated death by rising from it. The grace of God has appeared. It's happened and salvation has come. But what I didn't learn very well is that once I come on board with this belief (getting saved, that is) I've now entered a new fight. It's fight against evil, against our humanity, against myself. You may be different, but my ungodliness and worldly desires didn't go anywhere after I became a Christian and no matter what miraculous events happen in my life, they'll always be hanging around. And until I shed this earthly body I'll continue on in my humanity, unable to escape it's grasp without Jesus.
But the key to the battle is not some one-time, life-altering event. It's the day-to-day struggle, the moment-to-moment defeat of selfish desires, evil thoughts, slothfulness and materialism. It's not some event that's going to happen; it's my daily decision to be like Christ and to honor Him above myself. It's my committing to let Him do it because I'm continuing to remind myself that I can't do it. It's not a cop out; it's not laissez faire; it's not taking the easy road. It's actually taking the really hard road by letting Him do all. I don't think it's something you can really teach kids or new Christians. I think it's a surrender you've got to feel, to realize and recognize when you get so tired of fighting the battle on your own. That's the spot where God really works.
Life's about the day-to-day struggles and tribulations that make us more like Him. A moment probably won't change your life, but a lifetime will. A lifetime of combating the worldly desires knowing that He's working and He's doing and He's providing much, much more than we could ask or hope for.
Monday, January 31, 2011
Fair
"If you love those who love you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. And if you lend to those from whom you expect to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to get back the same amount...Give, and it will be given to you. Good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured back to you." Luke 6:32-34, 38.
A friend told me that back in this part of history when you went market to get grain you requested it in measure. You held your tunic out (your garment) and the seller heaped the grain into it and you took it home for your family. The interesting thing is that apparently there were many ways to cheat someone of a full measure. The seller could short measure, not pack it down or shake it thus leaving pockets of air and emptiness and I'm sure a plethora of other conniving practices. But here, in this passage, God points out to us the importance of being generous.
I find it interesting how few of us Christians do much above what everyone else in society does. We speak to people that speak back, we lend to people that we expect to be repaid from and we usually adopt the "I'll scratch your back if you'll scratch mine" theory. We've let too much of our world creep in to our Christian thinking. I often attribute it to Southern culture. Here in the south most people would refer to themselves as "Christian" regardless of even owning a Bible (which almost everyone has one sitting on some shelf) or being in the practice of Christ-following. It doesn't require church membership, community engagement, honest living or even kindness. I hear people all the time talking about siblings and friends living very clearly outside of Christian beliefs yet we're so inclined in speaking about these people to give them the benefit of the doubt, as in "of course they've saved." It's a part of the southern life to add "getting saved" to your life checklist: they've had their moment alone or in church where they "gave their heart to Christ." Check. Set for life.
But if God says I'm being judged according to the measure [I] use, I'm in trouble. We're easily jaded by people taking advantage of us and vow to not be outsmarted again. We adopt the theory "fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me." And while I think there's still a place for that, it's not what the passage here says. It says, how are we lending and loving, giving and showing generosity to people again and again, without judgment, above the norms of society? How are we showing the kindness of a Savior? How are we different from everybody else? Luke tells us- it's when we give a good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over that we're doing the work of Christ and fulfilling his order. And did you catch it? It's a good measure that's not just fair and equal, it's a measure that's running over and so a little beyond fair. It's a measure that shows Jesus' love and compassion, a little more than people expect or even need so that they can know the abundance that the Savior has and wants to give. It's a lot harder than we might think sometimes to live generously but I'm betting the reward will be worth it.
A friend told me that back in this part of history when you went market to get grain you requested it in measure. You held your tunic out (your garment) and the seller heaped the grain into it and you took it home for your family. The interesting thing is that apparently there were many ways to cheat someone of a full measure. The seller could short measure, not pack it down or shake it thus leaving pockets of air and emptiness and I'm sure a plethora of other conniving practices. But here, in this passage, God points out to us the importance of being generous.
I find it interesting how few of us Christians do much above what everyone else in society does. We speak to people that speak back, we lend to people that we expect to be repaid from and we usually adopt the "I'll scratch your back if you'll scratch mine" theory. We've let too much of our world creep in to our Christian thinking. I often attribute it to Southern culture. Here in the south most people would refer to themselves as "Christian" regardless of even owning a Bible (which almost everyone has one sitting on some shelf) or being in the practice of Christ-following. It doesn't require church membership, community engagement, honest living or even kindness. I hear people all the time talking about siblings and friends living very clearly outside of Christian beliefs yet we're so inclined in speaking about these people to give them the benefit of the doubt, as in "of course they've saved." It's a part of the southern life to add "getting saved" to your life checklist: they've had their moment alone or in church where they "gave their heart to Christ." Check. Set for life.
But if God says I'm being judged according to the measure [I] use, I'm in trouble. We're easily jaded by people taking advantage of us and vow to not be outsmarted again. We adopt the theory "fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me." And while I think there's still a place for that, it's not what the passage here says. It says, how are we lending and loving, giving and showing generosity to people again and again, without judgment, above the norms of society? How are we showing the kindness of a Savior? How are we different from everybody else? Luke tells us- it's when we give a good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over that we're doing the work of Christ and fulfilling his order. And did you catch it? It's a good measure that's not just fair and equal, it's a measure that's running over and so a little beyond fair. It's a measure that shows Jesus' love and compassion, a little more than people expect or even need so that they can know the abundance that the Savior has and wants to give. It's a lot harder than we might think sometimes to live generously but I'm betting the reward will be worth it.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Biblical Meanings
"Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted. Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ. For if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself. But let each one test his own work, and then his reason to boast will be in himself alone and not in his neighbor. For each will have to bear his own load" Galations 6:1-5.
This past Monday I had the opportunity to attend a small group of women. It was a sweet group of girls who seemed to truly love and respect each other. They were finishing up a study from before Christmas, rounding off Galations. They've been following some book, never really caught the name- seemed to be a commentary of sorts. Anyway, as we came upon this particular passage everyone began, as we commonly do, to toss out their opinion of what they think it means. One by one each opened up her statement with "Well, I think..." or just simply "I think" or "I believe it means." But as I listened to each speak and tried to absorb, reflect upon and occassionally respond, I realized there were a lot of opinions circulating around. And then I realized that's a skill we've been taught since infancy- critical thinking. We're taught to examine things and find the probable and logical meaning. We're taught to find the reasonable conclusion, the one that makes the most sense to us. We're taught that God is a God of compassion and great grace and to be very conscious of that "plank in our own eye" and not criticize others for their tiny speck (Matt 7:3). But I think, and there I go thinking, that we take these passages sometimes far away from their original meaning to make them make sense to us in our humanity.
Here is a fact I'll struggle my entire Christian life grasping: God is not a reasonable God. He's just God.
As I sat listening around the circle at small group or as I listen to other group discussions on spiritual things, we seem to insert our own opinions a lot instead of seeking and finding the original meaning, as best we can, and allowing that to intersect and change our current thinking.
We want a reasonable God. We want a God that makes sense, that we can predict and that will provide for all our wants.
If you look at the passage above in Galations it begins with "Brothers (and sisters)." So, in order to find the meaning of who we're to hold accountable and how we're to hold those people accountable, we've got to first define who this passage refers to as our "brothers and sisters." Then, we've got to dig up whether the "anyone" (Brothers, if anyone...) refers to "anyone" of the brothers or "anyone" of anyone on earth. Then, it's the "spiritual" people who are to help guide the others. So, we've got to define whether we're actually pursuing Christ and His law at the moment and "keep[ing] watch on [ourselves]," which is another requirement for being able to be a restorer to those fallen off the way. We've also got to see what our "spirit" or purpose is in calling that brother out. Is it of "gentleness" to restore them to the brotherhood of Christ or some ulterior motive?
So we're bound to draw the conclusion that we've got to be perfect before we can call someone out in love by much of this passage and therefore excuse ourselves from having to deal with other people's issues. But then we read verse 2: "Bear one another's burdens." Everyone has burdens, everyone has struggles and no one is perfect, ever (well except Jesus of course). Our job is to bear each other's burdens, support each other when we fall, speak in gentleness and hope, and know that the favor you're giving will be returned in no time at all considering how much we fall and need help to get back up.
We need help. We need each other. But we need each other to do so Biblically and with pure motives and heart. Not in a spirit of perfection but in a spirit of gentleness, testing our own selves and searching out our own faults first. We need to stop thinking so much and let God tell us what's best and do that.
This past Monday I had the opportunity to attend a small group of women. It was a sweet group of girls who seemed to truly love and respect each other. They were finishing up a study from before Christmas, rounding off Galations. They've been following some book, never really caught the name- seemed to be a commentary of sorts. Anyway, as we came upon this particular passage everyone began, as we commonly do, to toss out their opinion of what they think it means. One by one each opened up her statement with "Well, I think..." or just simply "I think" or "I believe it means." But as I listened to each speak and tried to absorb, reflect upon and occassionally respond, I realized there were a lot of opinions circulating around. And then I realized that's a skill we've been taught since infancy- critical thinking. We're taught to examine things and find the probable and logical meaning. We're taught to find the reasonable conclusion, the one that makes the most sense to us. We're taught that God is a God of compassion and great grace and to be very conscious of that "plank in our own eye" and not criticize others for their tiny speck (Matt 7:3). But I think, and there I go thinking, that we take these passages sometimes far away from their original meaning to make them make sense to us in our humanity.
Here is a fact I'll struggle my entire Christian life grasping: God is not a reasonable God. He's just God.
As I sat listening around the circle at small group or as I listen to other group discussions on spiritual things, we seem to insert our own opinions a lot instead of seeking and finding the original meaning, as best we can, and allowing that to intersect and change our current thinking.
We want a reasonable God. We want a God that makes sense, that we can predict and that will provide for all our wants.
If you look at the passage above in Galations it begins with "Brothers (and sisters)." So, in order to find the meaning of who we're to hold accountable and how we're to hold those people accountable, we've got to first define who this passage refers to as our "brothers and sisters." Then, we've got to dig up whether the "anyone" (Brothers, if anyone...) refers to "anyone" of the brothers or "anyone" of anyone on earth. Then, it's the "spiritual" people who are to help guide the others. So, we've got to define whether we're actually pursuing Christ and His law at the moment and "keep[ing] watch on [ourselves]," which is another requirement for being able to be a restorer to those fallen off the way. We've also got to see what our "spirit" or purpose is in calling that brother out. Is it of "gentleness" to restore them to the brotherhood of Christ or some ulterior motive?
So we're bound to draw the conclusion that we've got to be perfect before we can call someone out in love by much of this passage and therefore excuse ourselves from having to deal with other people's issues. But then we read verse 2: "Bear one another's burdens." Everyone has burdens, everyone has struggles and no one is perfect, ever (well except Jesus of course). Our job is to bear each other's burdens, support each other when we fall, speak in gentleness and hope, and know that the favor you're giving will be returned in no time at all considering how much we fall and need help to get back up.
We need help. We need each other. But we need each other to do so Biblically and with pure motives and heart. Not in a spirit of perfection but in a spirit of gentleness, testing our own selves and searching out our own faults first. We need to stop thinking so much and let God tell us what's best and do that.
Monday, January 24, 2011
If God is for me
"If God is for us, who can be against us?" Romans 8:31b
I've always had a great problem with church division, denominations, high-powered leaders and the like. I have a hard time with many people, believing many different, sometimes very contradictory things, all attaining eternal life. I have a hard time being wrong.
But here's the thing, and please correct me if you disagree. We think that if we pray, if we read God's word, if we give our money and time and follow as dedicated followers of God that we will always be right about the important stuff. Now this may be an overgeneralization but I know it's pretty true in my life. It seems we've taken the above verse out of context. If God is for me, who can be against me is the feel-good phrase we've taught our youth to courageously fight off spiritual bullies. And with even just the change of "us" to "me" it still holds the same value and definition. But the problem I've found is that when we believe ourselves to be firmly planted in Jesus we think that our way is the right way. We unconsciously change the "if" to "because" or just leave it out altogether. Is God really for us all the time? Is God really for me when I intentionally commit some ugly sin, well aware of what I'm getting myself into? Is He for me when I do very human, dumb things? I'm not asking if He forgives me, He knows me utterly, but I'm asking if He's for me in those ugly moments rooting me on in what I'm doing.
I don't believe He is. I believe He'll never leave me or forsake me. I believe He knit my inward parts and He knows all the sins I'll ever commit even before He called me to Himself. I believe He's an all-knowing, all-loving, all-encompassing God, and I believe He's cheering for me to root me out of those deep, dark places of sin. But I don't believe He's for my actions in all circumstances. But I think that's the difference in our often human definition of this passage and God's point. If God is for us, who can be against us? First, we have to look at the "if" and figure out if we're in a situation where God is for our actions. Second, we've got to divide God being for us and being for our actions. Those are two separate things. God is for the rescuing of our souls and He's always "for" us in that capacity. He's not always for our actions (and mine that's most of the time!). The last point I see here is piecing together who actually is being referred to as candidates that would be against us.
"For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places" Ephesians 6:12.
We're not fighting other people. We're not fighting ourselves. We're not fighting our church, our government, our neighbors or our people adversaries. We're fighting evil. We're fighting the darkness and the power it takes on. Those people that you're fighting right now, yeah they don't apply to this verse. It doesn't necessarily mean you're fight is in vain, but it needs to be contextualized to find if it's really worth the effort you're putting in to be right and for them to be wrong. It all needs to be contextualized to see if our pride is really the thing getting in the way of making peace in our churches, in our neighborhoods, in our nation above what we think is the narrow way to eternal life. We need to come back, refocus and find out what God is for and stick to those things to advocate.
I've always had a great problem with church division, denominations, high-powered leaders and the like. I have a hard time with many people, believing many different, sometimes very contradictory things, all attaining eternal life. I have a hard time being wrong.
But here's the thing, and please correct me if you disagree. We think that if we pray, if we read God's word, if we give our money and time and follow as dedicated followers of God that we will always be right about the important stuff. Now this may be an overgeneralization but I know it's pretty true in my life. It seems we've taken the above verse out of context. If God is for me, who can be against me is the feel-good phrase we've taught our youth to courageously fight off spiritual bullies. And with even just the change of "us" to "me" it still holds the same value and definition. But the problem I've found is that when we believe ourselves to be firmly planted in Jesus we think that our way is the right way. We unconsciously change the "if" to "because" or just leave it out altogether. Is God really for us all the time? Is God really for me when I intentionally commit some ugly sin, well aware of what I'm getting myself into? Is He for me when I do very human, dumb things? I'm not asking if He forgives me, He knows me utterly, but I'm asking if He's for me in those ugly moments rooting me on in what I'm doing.
I don't believe He is. I believe He'll never leave me or forsake me. I believe He knit my inward parts and He knows all the sins I'll ever commit even before He called me to Himself. I believe He's an all-knowing, all-loving, all-encompassing God, and I believe He's cheering for me to root me out of those deep, dark places of sin. But I don't believe He's for my actions in all circumstances. But I think that's the difference in our often human definition of this passage and God's point. If God is for us, who can be against us? First, we have to look at the "if" and figure out if we're in a situation where God is for our actions. Second, we've got to divide God being for us and being for our actions. Those are two separate things. God is for the rescuing of our souls and He's always "for" us in that capacity. He's not always for our actions (and mine that's most of the time!). The last point I see here is piecing together who actually is being referred to as candidates that would be against us.
"For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the principalities, against the powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places" Ephesians 6:12.
We're not fighting other people. We're not fighting ourselves. We're not fighting our church, our government, our neighbors or our people adversaries. We're fighting evil. We're fighting the darkness and the power it takes on. Those people that you're fighting right now, yeah they don't apply to this verse. It doesn't necessarily mean you're fight is in vain, but it needs to be contextualized to find if it's really worth the effort you're putting in to be right and for them to be wrong. It all needs to be contextualized to see if our pride is really the thing getting in the way of making peace in our churches, in our neighborhoods, in our nation above what we think is the narrow way to eternal life. We need to come back, refocus and find out what God is for and stick to those things to advocate.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
My Hiding Place
"They heard the sound of the Lord God walking in the garden in the cool of the day, and the man and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the Lord God among the trees of the garden. Then the Lord God called to the man and said to him, 'Where are you?' He said, 'I heard the sound of You in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid myself'" Genesis 3:8-10.
I know the exact feeling Adam and Eve felt that day. I can feel it in my bones almost everyday. It's terrifying having someone really know you- know your thoughts, your deeds, your very core so well that you can't run or hide anything from them. It takes a pretty intimate relationship to reach this point and oftentimes we rarely have even one person in our lives we might let in this much. But then there's God.
In my experience this attribute of God is what's so terrifying, but yet awe-inspiring and freeing about Him. He knows my thoughts; He knows my heart; He knows my inner-longings and my goals; He knows my very frame. (Acts 15:8, Ps 44:21 and 103:14 , 1 Corinthians 3:20, Matt 9:4) He knows everything. All the yuckiness that I still hold inside. All the slander, malice, jealousy and anger. All the slothfulness, gluttony and resentment. All my shortcomings and faults. He knows it all. He knows when I give someone advice that I myself am not following, He knows the fronts I put on and the great acting ability I have sometimes. He knows. And He still loves me.
To me, that's the miracle. HE isn't frightened or looking on me smirkingly as He comes to cover my frailties. He isn't wincing because He HAS to love me. He had a choice and He chose me. He picked me out and molded me. He may me perfect, and although I've done an excellent job messing that up, He still calls me whole and puts me back in His arms day after day, despite my carrying on and running after lesser things, and makes His mercies new again.
He sees my nakedness and isn't ashamed- for Himself or for me. So why should I be so afraid? I can think of a thousand reasons still but if you think about it, they all fall short. He already sees all those things. We should find comfort in that nakedness with God, not fear. Because in that comfort we can find forgiveness. And in that forgiveness we can find peace. And in that peace we can find a way to heal and not continue to pile on the clothing layers of self-preservation and acting like we're better than we are. We can come to Him as we are, since He already knows, and find the courage to be better, to do better and to accomplish more for His glory- all the while watching and realizing our other layers are shedding away.
Psalm 32 sums it up perfectly - "You are my hiding place." Adam just picked the wrong one.
I know the exact feeling Adam and Eve felt that day. I can feel it in my bones almost everyday. It's terrifying having someone really know you- know your thoughts, your deeds, your very core so well that you can't run or hide anything from them. It takes a pretty intimate relationship to reach this point and oftentimes we rarely have even one person in our lives we might let in this much. But then there's God.
In my experience this attribute of God is what's so terrifying, but yet awe-inspiring and freeing about Him. He knows my thoughts; He knows my heart; He knows my inner-longings and my goals; He knows my very frame. (Acts 15:8, Ps 44:21 and 103:14 , 1 Corinthians 3:20, Matt 9:4) He knows everything. All the yuckiness that I still hold inside. All the slander, malice, jealousy and anger. All the slothfulness, gluttony and resentment. All my shortcomings and faults. He knows it all. He knows when I give someone advice that I myself am not following, He knows the fronts I put on and the great acting ability I have sometimes. He knows. And He still loves me.
To me, that's the miracle. HE isn't frightened or looking on me smirkingly as He comes to cover my frailties. He isn't wincing because He HAS to love me. He had a choice and He chose me. He picked me out and molded me. He may me perfect, and although I've done an excellent job messing that up, He still calls me whole and puts me back in His arms day after day, despite my carrying on and running after lesser things, and makes His mercies new again.
He sees my nakedness and isn't ashamed- for Himself or for me. So why should I be so afraid? I can think of a thousand reasons still but if you think about it, they all fall short. He already sees all those things. We should find comfort in that nakedness with God, not fear. Because in that comfort we can find forgiveness. And in that forgiveness we can find peace. And in that peace we can find a way to heal and not continue to pile on the clothing layers of self-preservation and acting like we're better than we are. We can come to Him as we are, since He already knows, and find the courage to be better, to do better and to accomplish more for His glory- all the while watching and realizing our other layers are shedding away.
Psalm 32 sums it up perfectly - "You are my hiding place." Adam just picked the wrong one.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Frozen Pipes and Dreams
"Now behold, one came and said to Jesus, 'Good Teacher, what good thing shall I do that I may have eternal life?' So [Jesus] said to him...'Keep the commandments.'...The young man said to him, 'All these things I have kept from my youth. What do I still lack?' Jesus said to him, 'If you want to be perfect, go, sell what you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow Me.'" Matthew 19:16-21.
I had a very inconvenient thing happen to me Sunday- my pipes froze. I had no running water so no way of taking a shower or even washing my face. And you know what my first thought was? Wow, shoot, I can't go to church.
A few days before this I started a chronological plan to read through the Bible in one year. I've been pretty excited about it actually, I'm reading about Job right now and all the calamity he faced. My church also just started this 4 week devotional guide that corresponds with the weekly sermons, which I think is pretty neat. I caught up on my reading Saturday night before I went to bed and decided firmly to wake up early Sunday morning to read my devotional, pray and get to church on time. Then, my faucet went dry.
A call to my dad was the first thing I knew to do. I then called my landlord and left a message. At that point, all I could do was pack a bag and head to my parents house for who knows how long. As I drove the 30 minute car ride to my parents it gave me time to reflect. I'm not always super excited to go to church on Sundays. It's not the church, it's me. I sat irritated because it was a Sunday I was looking forward to, with the new sermon series and all. But then it hit me. I didn't go to church Sunday not necessarily because of the water but because it left me an excuse not to go. It was a viable way out.
I've grown so accustomed to my way of life in America and my comfortable living, building up my savings account, building a life with furniture and things in general, thinking piece by piece I'll feel more secure. I just finished this book called Radical: Taking Your Life Back from the American Dream (or something close to that) and as I said earlier, I'm reading Job. I have also read and reread the passage at the beginning of this blog. It pains me because I've been deathly afraid Jesus would ask me this same question.
What does it mean? Should I really sell ALL my possessions? What about my savings, my future, my retirement? What about my car fund and my emergency fund in case of job loss? Is it wrong to save? Doesn't God tell me to be a good steward of my money? Does he ask this question of everyone or is it just a test like God asking Abraham to sacrifice Isaac?
But as I drove home Sunday, shedding some of the layers of American comfort I've allowed to blanket me, I realized that if God took it all away, I could learn not to miss it. I could learn not to be devastated or angry with Him. I could remember and continue to see how much bigger God is than all the stuff. I realised it on that car ride home and said if he wanted to wash it away in a storm or, in my case, flood water through my house as a result of those frozen pipes, then He could, and He would as He willed. I released another piece of me to His care. Another piece that I think I'll have to release most everyday of my life because of my automatic self-preservation gear. It's not an easy piece to let go and it terrifies me but if God isn't bigger than my stuff and if He can't provide for me outside of my own ability, then He's not a very big God and I need not worry about Him asking me that question.
I also realized that shame on me for thinking church was about coming clean instead of leaving clean. It's sad to think a pajamed girl with cowboy boots over her pj pants, with hair thrown up and face unwashed would be looked at and silently scorned for not taking more time to enter worship. But you know, although some people might have felt that way, it's not about them, it's about Jesus, and how He washed me long ago and He washes me still. And although I did not go to church because I had not realized what I know now, He washed me even Sunday morning. And although my outside still might have been a mess, my insides were clean and His mercies were new and His faithfulness never faultered. And although I do believe we should adorn our outward bodies in respect to the Almighty in worship, I do not believe He would reject me if I didn't. He loves me still and it's time I stopped letting the world determine my relationship with Him and started letting God outline it, no matter the cost.
I had a very inconvenient thing happen to me Sunday- my pipes froze. I had no running water so no way of taking a shower or even washing my face. And you know what my first thought was? Wow, shoot, I can't go to church.
A few days before this I started a chronological plan to read through the Bible in one year. I've been pretty excited about it actually, I'm reading about Job right now and all the calamity he faced. My church also just started this 4 week devotional guide that corresponds with the weekly sermons, which I think is pretty neat. I caught up on my reading Saturday night before I went to bed and decided firmly to wake up early Sunday morning to read my devotional, pray and get to church on time. Then, my faucet went dry.
A call to my dad was the first thing I knew to do. I then called my landlord and left a message. At that point, all I could do was pack a bag and head to my parents house for who knows how long. As I drove the 30 minute car ride to my parents it gave me time to reflect. I'm not always super excited to go to church on Sundays. It's not the church, it's me. I sat irritated because it was a Sunday I was looking forward to, with the new sermon series and all. But then it hit me. I didn't go to church Sunday not necessarily because of the water but because it left me an excuse not to go. It was a viable way out.
I've grown so accustomed to my way of life in America and my comfortable living, building up my savings account, building a life with furniture and things in general, thinking piece by piece I'll feel more secure. I just finished this book called Radical: Taking Your Life Back from the American Dream (or something close to that) and as I said earlier, I'm reading Job. I have also read and reread the passage at the beginning of this blog. It pains me because I've been deathly afraid Jesus would ask me this same question.
What does it mean? Should I really sell ALL my possessions? What about my savings, my future, my retirement? What about my car fund and my emergency fund in case of job loss? Is it wrong to save? Doesn't God tell me to be a good steward of my money? Does he ask this question of everyone or is it just a test like God asking Abraham to sacrifice Isaac?
But as I drove home Sunday, shedding some of the layers of American comfort I've allowed to blanket me, I realized that if God took it all away, I could learn not to miss it. I could learn not to be devastated or angry with Him. I could remember and continue to see how much bigger God is than all the stuff. I realised it on that car ride home and said if he wanted to wash it away in a storm or, in my case, flood water through my house as a result of those frozen pipes, then He could, and He would as He willed. I released another piece of me to His care. Another piece that I think I'll have to release most everyday of my life because of my automatic self-preservation gear. It's not an easy piece to let go and it terrifies me but if God isn't bigger than my stuff and if He can't provide for me outside of my own ability, then He's not a very big God and I need not worry about Him asking me that question.
I also realized that shame on me for thinking church was about coming clean instead of leaving clean. It's sad to think a pajamed girl with cowboy boots over her pj pants, with hair thrown up and face unwashed would be looked at and silently scorned for not taking more time to enter worship. But you know, although some people might have felt that way, it's not about them, it's about Jesus, and how He washed me long ago and He washes me still. And although I did not go to church because I had not realized what I know now, He washed me even Sunday morning. And although my outside still might have been a mess, my insides were clean and His mercies were new and His faithfulness never faultered. And although I do believe we should adorn our outward bodies in respect to the Almighty in worship, I do not believe He would reject me if I didn't. He loves me still and it's time I stopped letting the world determine my relationship with Him and started letting God outline it, no matter the cost.
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