Consistently Inconsistent

It is the beginning of the school year. I have new pencils, paper, backpack, books. I arrive early to school after donning my new clothes, spending an hour getting ready and eating a healthy breakfast. I read the syllabus with every intention of following it to the letter. I head straight home from practice to complete my homework and maybe even read ahead for the next day. Before bed, I lay out the clothes for tomorrow. I am on top of it. I am setting myself up for success.

Fast forward 3 months...My backpack is crammed with papers from the second week of school. Somewhere under those is a pencil...there has to be. I know I did my homework in the car on the way to school this morning, but where did I put it? Maybe it is under the McDonald's wrapper from my breakfast that caused me to be late to class. What time is that orchestra concert tonight? Did I tell my family about it at all? Oh, dang, did I remember deodorant today?

This cycle is my life. I start everything out with the best intentions. The new car, the clean house, the organized closet, the prayer journal full of pages to fill, the hand weights and new running shoes, the new devotional book. I am good at getting things started. I know how to organize, plan, prepare. I like the feeling of fresh starts and new beginnings. Then, the task that seemed so new and crisp turns to an old limp habit. Something that made me feel productive and happy transforms to something that feels like a time-consuming obligation.

So, to fight this, I tend to give up completely. I don't even try. I throw my shoes in my closet and leave cups with banana peels in my car. (Ok, not forever, but until I have amassed a small collection.) I leave the devotional books in the basement where I can't fail to read them because I didn't try. I put the running shoes on the bottom of the stack. What is the point of starting fresh when my flame of excitement will just flicker out sooner rather than later? It is such a frustrating part of me. Maybe the part of me that gets me the most down on myself. The all-consuming roller coaster of my life. That part of me that I can't let go.

When I think of surrender, I don't think I imagine this part of me being surrendered. This is the part of me that is all about what I can do. It is about me working to be better. Working to have it all together.

Romans 7: 17-20 (The Message) 

But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can't keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don't have what it takes. I can will it, but I can't do it. I decide to do good, but I don't really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don't result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time.

So, if I am going to fail, does that mean I don't try? No! Every time I try, I do a little better. I last a little longer. God teaches me something about myself, and I stand up and start again. I do this with confidence that it is not my failure that God sees, but the heart of someone who wants to please Him. It is the fact that I am leaning on grace and mercy to get through this life. I am so thankful that it is there for each of us. His grace is there to cover up the messes I leave behind. Where would I be without it? ...Most likely, sifting through banana peels and running shoes just to find one sharpened pencil.

What actually took place is this: I tried keeping rules and working my head off to please God, and it didn't work. So I quit being a "law man" so that I could be God's man. Christ's life showed me how, and enabled me to do it. I identified myself completely with him. Indeed, I have been crucified with Christ. My ego is no longer central. It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you or have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not "mine," but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going to go back on that. Is it not clear to you that to go back to that old rule-keeping, peer-pleasing religion would be an abandonment of everything personal and free in my relationship with God? I refuse to do that, to repudiate God's grace. If a living relationship with God could come by rule-keeping, then Christ died unnecessarily. Galatians 2: 19-21 (The Message)

Exorcist Moments

This morning we had what we have come to refer to as exorcist moments. Our daughter occasionally loses her mind to the point where we really think that at any moment her head will begin to rotate on its axis and fire will shoot out of her eyeballs. She has an intensity that I have never seen before. I certainly do not possess her strong will or fire, and while my husband does, he thankfully has a degree more self-control than she does. Sometimes these moments are brought on by something simple like which shoes she is going to wear (those don't match and these aren't comfortable - therefore, I am going to blow.) Other times, like this morning, we are greeted with the screaming the moment her eyes are open (mind you, our eyes are not yet open, so this is a great way to wake up.)

This morning, it was Ryan's turn to get up with Ellie (and the angels sing, do you hear them?). He travels a lot, so when he is home, we take turns getting up with her and making her breakfast. I think this might be the best system in the world. So, she starts off the day upset because she can't find her stuffed frog. Then, she moves on to a tantrum about not being able to open a box. She spirals downward until no one (especially her) knows why she is upset. I lay in the safety of my bed listening to the storm brewing in the hallway. I listen as my husband continues to keep the same even tone as he tries to talk her down. (I am feeling a little guilty for staying in my hiding place, but he is just doing such a great job, I hate to interrupt it...) I hear banging, screaming, and other unidentifiable sounds. This goes on for an hour and a half (and no, I did not stay in bed the whole time). This child has staying power. Finally, she throws down one more outright disobedient trick and we both watch as Ryan carries the new Barbie house from Santa out to the "trash". Here is where my stomach is sick and I am praying that this is just a bluff. Surely he is not throwing out the house that Santa spent so much money on and time to put together, right? (Trash comes on Saturday this week - please earn it back, child...)

And how is she now? Perfect. Once she has calmed down, she is back to her sweet self, full of "I love you's", hugs, and artistic pictures drawn for us. She can channel her brain power and read books for an hour and a half. She can do a 100 piece puzzle. She can make up songs or sing every word to a whole songbook of Beatles hits. She can navigate the web or play a video game. She has so much brilliance in that little head, I just pray that she can use it in a positive way. I hope that we can direct her as her parents to be able to make good choices and to practice self-control. If we don't accomplish that, then exorcist moments when she is 13 might have us calling for reinforcements. Right now, I am most thankful that these moments are not constant, or we might all be in lock down already.

On a Pilgrimage for Truth

How many legs does a dog have if you call the tail a leg? Four; calling a tail a leg doesn't make it a leg. -Abraham Lincoln


Ryan asked me the other day, "What should our untimate quest be?" Wanting to receive my gold sticker for the day, I answered with, "Jesus." (and a smile, 'cause I was right.) "Nope," he says, "Truth. It will lead you to Jesus, sure, but Truth is what we should strive for."

Sitting at dinner with my family, I was confronted with this. "What is truth?" They had an answer of their own. "Well, it is subjective. My truth is not your truth." What is good for you may not be good for me. Anything goes, really. - We were in a no limits conversation. If you have a thought, just throw it out there regardless of little ears or appropriate bounds. Most of the time, the conversation comes back around to how ridiculous all of those Jesus followers are anyway. -It seems to me that those who know the least about God have the most negative things to say about Him and His people. Those who have read the Bible the least have the most commentary to share about it.

In an earlier post, I said, "How can you value something in someone if you yourself do not understand it? How can you see something in someone that you do not recognize?" Once again, I have been trying to listen to these words. Again I found myself surrounded with those who would deny and mock the God I serve. Deny that which gives me life. Mock the one who engulfs my heart in love.

Psalm 40:2
He lifted me out of the pit of despair,
      out of the mud and the mire.
   He set my feet on solid ground
      and steadied me as I walked along.

I feel like a failure when I can not find the words to shine a light on Truth, especially with my family. I look like a hypocrite when I sit silently while my God is being denied. I realize that God is not afraid to be questioned or denied. In fact, this just gives Him a chance to show His glory even more in the end. I also know that no words of mine will change a heart.  It is only an encounter with Christ that will change a heart and mind.

John 6:61-65
Jesus sensed that his disciples were having a hard time with this and said, "Does this throw you completely? What would happen if you saw the Son of Man ascending to where he came from? The Spirit can make life. Sheer muscle and willpower don't make anything happen. Every word I've spoken to you is a Spirit-word, and so it is life-making. But some of you are resisting, refusing to have any part in this." (Jesus knew from the start that some weren't going to risk themselves with him. He knew also who would betray him.) He went on to say, "This is why I told you earlier that no one is capable of coming to me on his own. You get to me only as a gift from the Father."

A run-in with the creator is the only thing that will transform a life. This is like a weight being lifted off of me. No words I say, nothing I do, can draw a man to God. It is only a personal encounter with the One who pours His Grace out that can change anything. But I so long to see them have that encounter. Once you have had an experience with the One, you can no longer deny His existence. Something in the depths of you has changed. All of you is brand new. Truth reaches out and grabs you and you can finally doubt your doubts. Holes can be poked into you self-made theology and all of the selfish, pleasure-seeking, convenient lies you have told yourself can drain back into the pit from which you were saved. You look back on your life and wonder at how you even lived it without the knowledge and all-encompassing experience of the Truth.

  

If truth is subjective, then what, exactly, is the point? There is no search for truth because it does not exist. Even your doubts about truth are you coming to a conclusion about something, and how is that possible when there is not right and wrong - no moral compass to direct you? If truth is subjective, how can we have laws or any boundaries at all? Who gets to use their truth to direct you? I just see so many holes in this argument, I feel like I am talking circles just trying to understand it.

If there is no search for Truth, then I think we can pack it in and call it a life. I guess you can go ahead and live it up first. Do as many thrill-seeking, self-destructive behaviors as you can before the lights go out and your time on earth is over. Just spend your days on earth doing whatever makes you feel happy, or numb, or entertained. Even saying that makes me feel hollow and causes me to long for something more for them. For myself.

I know the Truth. As John 8:32 says, "Then you will know the Truth and the Truth will set you free." I have been set free from myself. I have been set free from living to please me and my earthly body. I am free to love others and to allow someone else to change me from the inside out. I am free from trying to live up to some standard or rules, but instead to allow the Grace of God to do what it was purposed to do. When I really allow God's Grace to cover me, I am truly free to worship and have intimate interactions with an Infinite God.

John 4:23
"It's who you are and the way you live that count before God. Your worship must engage your spirit in the pursuit of truth. That's the kind of people the Father is out looking for: those who are simply and honestly themselves before him in their worship. God is sheer being itself—Spirit. Those who worship him must do it out of their very being, their spirits, their true selves, in adoration."

But, what if truth subjective after all? What if I am wrong, even in my certainty? This is what I know. My life has meaning. My life is rich with Love and Grace. My life is worth living because of the One who died so that it may be. "I'm on Aslan's side even if there isn't any Aslan to lead it. I'm going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn't any Narnia." - C.S. Lewis. My prayer is that those I love will decide to join me on this journey next to a God who has already forgiven them but waits only for them to accept it. I pray that they will choose to finally listen to the Voice that calls to them when they are quiet and most honest with themselves about what is lacking in their lives. I hope that one day they can love Him because He loved them first, whether they believed it or not.

Guards at the Gate

From time to time, I have had someone say to me that the lens through which you view your earthly father is the same lens through which you view your Heavenly Father. For years I have believed this to be true, but could not see the correlation with me. I would compare my view of each and they seemed to hold no ties to each other, no reflections that overlapped. The lines between them were blurred, but I didn't see any intersections. The gate that separated my thoughts on the two was locked and it appeared that it had always been so. As I stare today, something is coming into focus. By writing, I can adjust the lens so I can see more clearly. I have to step back and gain some perspective. I have to come at it from a different angle than before. I have to sneak around from the back f my thoughts, because the guards might see me coming and lock the gate again. I can see from the lines on the ground that the gate has been open many times, just not when I am looking for it.

From here is where I will tread lightly. I do not know who actually reads my blogs, but I do know that sometimes it will come up randomly in conversation and I find that people read it that I would not imagine do. I don't think it is a big dark secret that I did not have a picture perfect childhood. Few people did. I felt detached from my parents and the rest of my family early on because I did not have deep roots. I was shuffled from home to home from week to week and month to month. I remember it being said that I was lucky to have so many people who loved me and so many homes to call my own. While this was true, I wanted a soft place to land. I wanted a place to go to every night where my surroundings were familiar and where my future there was as certain as the rising of the sun. I wanted someone to love me enough to put me in their home permanently. I felt like my life was in limbo, like I was loved by many but wanted by none. That is a weird place for a kid; to have guilt for wanting more when you already have much.

When I was 9, I got what I wanted. I moved in with my dad and step-mom...permanently. I got a room in a house that was the same night after night. I had surroundings that became familiar after some adjustment. I got a luggage set to carry with me when I visited the places I left behind. But, every time I visited those who I had abandoned, I packed an extra bag full of guilt to bring with me. Guilt for not rotating houses. Guilt for leaving my mom and grandparents and sister behind. Guilt for being a burden for my dad and step-mom and their new marriage. Guilt for feeling conflicted about the whole situation in the first place when there were so many kids who were living nightmares everyday. Some of those nightmares had been lived by me and now I was awake. The nightmares had faded and I was safe.

If my story ended here, I would recognize the need I have for establishing deep roots. I would see the reasons why I value friendships so much - they chose to share life with me without feeling of obligation. I would understand my need for a home that will be long-term rather than a stopping place on the way to something better. But, of course my story did not end here. The lens through which I view God was not yet completed.

In the book Crazy Love, I was asked to use one word to describe my earthly father during my childhood. One word. Who can do that? So, I placed myself in my 16 year old body and thought. The word came to me. Let me preface this word with this...at 16, you have a limited view of the world, even more limited than at 31. You have a view that mostly centers on you and what you need and want and do. Even still, at 16, everything is shaping you and your world view. It is shaping you and your view of God. It is shaping how you will relate to Him for the rest of your life. At 16, I loved God with all of my heart. I wanted to please Him. I wanted to do what was right. I wanted my heart's desire to serve my Lord to be seen and valued. As an adult I understand something about value. How can you value something in someone if you yourself do not understand it? How can you see something in someone that you do not recognize? So the word I came up with was this - detached. I think my dad would probably agree that connecting with his teenage daughter was not his A game. However, this is not a blog about my dad's shortcomings. He isn't perfect, but he took me in. He loved me in the way he knew how. He is still growing and changing as a father and as a grandfather. No, this blog is about something bigger. 

I applied my word, detached, to my view of my God. It didn't fit. I don't believe God to be detached from me. I know His presence and love intimately. I was confused yet again until I heard His voice, "turn the lens around." Turn it around? Slowly, the view became clear. I saw something I had not expected. I did not see my dad's detachment, but the way I responded to it. I became guarded. I lowered my expectations. I hid from him in order to avoid a conflict or argument. I held onto my thoughts and emotions in order to preserve them. Here is where the reflections began to look the same. I am holding back from God. Some part of me does not trust  Him with every part of me. Some part of me is afraid of rejection and disappointment. There is a part of me that is passive in my relationship with Him in order to keep the boat from rocking. I know in my head who God is. I can tell you what the Word says about Him. I can show you where He is faithful. Yet I am guarded. I used to think there was a gate between my view of my earthly father and my Heavenly one, but I was wrong. The gate is between God and me. The lines on the ground are from the times when I am transparent and open, but I allow the gate to shut. I place guards on duty to keep me safe from the ugliness of what being totally vulnerable looks like. 

Through my life, God has been my soft place to fall. He has been my comforter and my shield. When I lay my head on my pillow at night, it was the lap of Jesus and He whispered of His love for me as I slept. I can not pinpoint where this picture of Jesus came from. I had some people who influenced my relationship with God early on, but He was not an everyday topic in my life. Despite this, every night, He came and He was. He is constant. I have no need of a gate between myself and my God. He is faithful and full of grace. He knew me before I was born, so what have I to hide?

Before I shaped you in the womb,
   I knew all about you.
Before you saw the light of day,
   I had holy plans for you:
A prophet to the nations—
   that's what I had in mind for you.

Jeremiah 1:5

I know that I can not send my guards away in one night. I can't take away years of self-protection in one moment, but I know someone who can. I know that through trusting and surrendering, I can see the gate come down.

Because of the extravagance of those revelations, and so I wouldn't get a big head, I was given the gift of a handicap to keep me in constant touch with my limitations. Satan's angel did his best to get me down; what he in fact did was push me to my knees. No danger then of walking around high and mighty! At first I didn't think of it as a gift, and begged God to remove it. Three times I did that, and then he told me,

   My grace is enough; it's all you need.
   My strength comes into its own in your weakness.
Once I heard that, I was glad to let it happen. I quit focusing on the handicap and began appreciating the gift. It was a case of Christ's strength moving in on my weakness. Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size—abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become.

2 Corinthians 12:7-10

 

Clarity

"My mistakes make me grateful for His mercy. My blunders make me aware of His blessing, and my inability to undo makes me desperate for His sweet Holy Spirit's control in my life." -Jennifer Rothschild

Sometimes, God is not subtle. Sometimes He keeps telling you the same thing over and over again until you get it. Or, at least until you stop and listen. I feel like I am listening to a record player that is skipping to the same part over and over again, replaying the same show on my DVR, traveling the same bumpy road as yesterday and the day before. The same message keeps jumping out at me from behind bushes and closet doors. Sin. Grace. Our constant need for a savior. Over and over again.

In the not so distant past, I had the thought, "You know, I really don't know what my sins are these days." I knew I sinned because, I am human and we always do. I thought that perhaps even that thought itself was a sin because I was puffing myself up. So, I kept praying for God to shine a spotlight on me when I did sin so that I would recognize it and repent and move in the right direction. Sin used to be so blatant for me when I was younger. Underage drinking, gossip, pushing boundaries on inappropriate physical relationships, cussing, thinking bad thoughts about people. Then something happened. I got older and some of these became obsolete. Some of these sins that I worked so hard trying to avoid were no longer sins for me (ie: I turned 21 and got married). Or I saw them in a different light which made me reconsider the inherent sinful nature of them in the first place.

So, what did God do? Does he shine a beacon on me when I speak negatively about someone who I don't really know or sound an alarm when I lose my temper? Does He yell down to me when I am selfish or whisper behind His mighty hand to Jesus when I lay my head down while angry? No, but I will say those things are more apparent to me when I do them (which is more frequently I like admit). I do feel a bit of a nudge when I misstep, and for that I am humbled and grateful. What He has done instead of shouting my sins from the heavens is tell me what He does when I do fall. When I fail to live up to the holy person he calls me because of Christ in me.

When I come up short of what I feel I should be doing, God has a message for me. It is stuck on repeat in my head. -- I do not offer Grace as a one time installment. Instead, each time you fail I get to display my Grace to you all over again. I get to wash you white as snow. I get to throw your failure as far as the east is from the west. The blood of Jesus on the cross is covering you yet again and again and again. Justice is passing over you again and again and again. You are getting what you do not deserve every time. My Grace is sufficient.

You see, I have a little bit of this holiness thing somewhere in me. Something in me feels like I have to earn Grace once it was given for free. I think that first step is easy. God forgave me of all of my sin before I knew Him. It is an amazing gift, but one that can be grasped because I were not yet in his grip. It is the failures after He already had hold of me that tear me down. I should be able to walk this thing out. I should be able to follow His most important command to love others as I love myself (which also implies loving myself). I mean, Christ died for me, can't I at least live the right way for Him?

Enter stage left: failure. It is lurking in the dark and waiting to pull me down. It is waiting patiently (for it won't be long until it rears its ugly head) to remind me that no matter how hard I try, I will come up short. I think many have been on this exhausting cycle - determined to follow through on devotions or a particular mission or a calling you feel you have. Then life gets hard and you fall. You put it aside for a tomorrow that never happens. Then you beat yourself up and eventually, you decide not to try anymore because at least then you won't fail.

"Maybe this is the heart of our hang up, the root of our dilemma. We fluctuate between castigating ourselves and congratulating ourselves because we are deluded into thinking we save ourselves. We develop a false sense of security from our good works and scrupulous observance of the law. Our halo gets too tight and a carefully-disguised attitude of moral superiority results. Or, we are appalled by our inconsistency, devestated that we haven't lived up to our lofty expectations of ourselves. The roller coaster ride of elation and depression continues." - Brennan Manning

I do not believe that Grace gives us a free pass to sin. I do believe that when we do sin, the heavens are opened up to rain Grace down on us and show us the mercy of God yet again. Who can appreciate Grace  more than one who has been a receiver of it again and again? Who is more honest with God than one who has embraced His forgiveness and allowed ourselves to be laid bare before Him? When we try to cover our sin and do good for the world, it is almost like we are building our own Tower of Babel brick by brick. The more good works we do, the higher our tower gets until at last we have reached God out of our own good deeds.

This does not mean that I have cast aside my will to do what is right. I am striving to lay all of my deeds, good and bad and the foot of the cross. I know that Christ in me strengthens me. I know that Christ in me allows me to love others. I know that Christ in me turns away from evil and does good. I am working to stop fighting God with my own will, for it is my own will that fails. At the same time, I am thankful that I am not a puppet on a string unable to make bad decisions because it is those faulty decisions that drive me back to the Throne. It is those blatant sins that open me up again to be forgiven and for Grace to work its magic in my life once again.

But what happens when we live God's way? He brings gifts into our lives, much the same way that fruit appears in an orchard—things like affection for others, exuberance about life, serenity. We develop a willingness to stick with things, a sense of compassion in the heart, and a conviction that a basic holiness permeates things and people. We find ourselves involved in loyal commitments, not needing to force our way in life, able to marshal and direct our energies wisely. Legalism is helpless in bringing this about; it only gets in the way. Among those who belong to Christ, everything connected with getting our own way and mindlessly responding to what everyone else calls necessities is killed off for good—crucified. - Galatians 5:22-24 (Message)

"I lose sight of God, then when I regain Him fully, I cry His name louder than before." (From my high school journal)