Players With No Lines

In the past eight years, I've written four full-length plays, six one-acts, and a boatload of skits, which have all been performed before relatively good-sized audiences. So, I suppose I could call myself a playwright. I still don't quite feel comfortable assuming that label, though. Just looking at those numbers – and remembering the conversation I had with a friend about a year before this binge began in which I stated emphatically that "I am not a writer" – I don't feel like I can really take credit for much of that. This has been a God thing. Every time I sat down to write another drama for somebody, I wondered if this would be the day that the spigot would run dry and God's work would be done in that area of my life.

However, I bring up my play-writing experience because it explains why I think I reacted so strongly to a quote I read in an article a while back. The author was referring to a book about prayer by Paul Miller (which is now on my gift list – Mother's Day is coming up, and my birthday is in August, ahem). Here is the quote that stuck with me:

When we have a praying life, we become aware of and enter into the story God is weaving in our lives. . . . Prayer is not the center of this book. Getting to know a person, God, is the center. . . . We are actors in his drama, listening for our lines, quieting our hearts so we can hear the voice of the Playwright. . . If you are going to enter this divine dance we call prayer, you have to surrender your desire to be in control . . .

God is the playwright. He writes the script of our lives. Our job is to "listen for our lines" so we can submit to his storyline.

That listening can be a challenging task, however. I don't know how many times I've wished I had an actual printed script in hand, with my lines and stage directions written out for me. The Playwright's voice is difficult to hear some days.

But I recall certain times in my writing when a character kind of took over the script – not in a bad way or spooky way. I mean, I created a character, and then I created a situation that the character would be in, and from that point, the lines and stage directions seemed to create themselves. I was almost taking dictation as I wrote – I simply copied down what that character would naturally say and do in that situation. Only if I had a twist to insert for the sake of my greater theme did I inject myself as playwright again. But that often wasn't even necessary; if my characters and situation were set up well, the drama wrote itself.

And I'm wondering now if that isn't something like what the Great Playwright does. He creates us . . . more than that, He continually RE-creates us, if we put ourselves in His hands to do so. He orchestrates the situations around us, a profoundly complex choreography of plotlines and conflicts and climaxes that all promote his general theme. And at some point, when we have submitted to His molding and will, He no longer needs to feed us lines. We can improvise, based on who He has made us and where He has placed us. We do what is natural to us.

So, we don't need to be so worried about saying the right things or doing the right things . . . we just need to be worried about being the right person, being the person God is re-creating us to be. And we know who that person is by knowing who Christ is.

Get to know Him intimately, and the rest falls into place. Know Him well enough to know that you can safely give Him control. That's doable. That's a manageable goal when the world is falling apart around me. Just know the Playwright. 

On Saying No to God

It's a sad thing when you are convicted by your own words.

In Sunday School last weekend, I made a brilliant and insightful remark that everyone ooh'd and aah'd over. (At least, that's my recollection of the moment.) We were discussing how we distinguish the Holy Spirit's communication with us from our own self-promoting desires speaking to us. And I mentioned a lesson I learned many years ago: if I really want to hear clearly from God on a matter, I have to put myself in a neutral stance on that matter. I have to get myself to the point that I am genuinely willing to obey God in whatever He says -- even if it is the complete opposite of what I want, even if it makes my life difficult or possibly downright miserable, even if I lose friends and loved ones as a result -- whatever you want, Lord, that's what I want. I am in complete submission. Once I'm there, I usually find God's will is quite clear, because my own baggage has been removed from the picture.

My words came back to haunt me as I was eating my fourth or fifth hot-from-the-oven chocolate chip cookie later that evening because the thought suddenly came to my mind:

I am NOT neutral on sweets.

I would NOT be willing to give up sweets if God asked it of me.

Never again bake another chocolate chip cookie? No. Never again enjoy a cup of custard or froyo out with the family? Wrong. No more candy corn at Halloween, caramel popcorn at Christmas, jelly beans at Easter, caramel apples in the fall? Watch everyone else at the table enjoy the gooey chocolate cake without ever again indulging myself? That is not going to happen.

Oh, I talk a good game about it, believe me, especially to God's face. And God and I have had this very conversation on a regular basis for the last few years because I have often wondered if . . . no, suspected that . . . no, feared that God was asking that very thing of me. Give them up. All of them. They affect your mind and body and stand in the way of our relationship. You use them to meet needs in your life that I'm supposed to meet. They are an idol. They have to go.

But, you know, that just doesn't sound like God, does it? "Give it up forever"? Give it up for Lent, maybe. Or for the week. Maybe just turn down this dessert. Or at least the second serving of it. But God wouldn't really want me to give them all up -- at least I've been able to successfully convince myself of this questionable fact.

However, with that half-eaten cookie in my hand, and with the full knowledge that I expected to eat more before the evening was over (and lick out the cookie dough bowl before it went into the dishwasher), I was suddenly driven (by the Holy Spirit, I'm sure) to face the facts.

It doesn't matter whether God would ask me to give them up. It matters that, deep down in my heart, I know I wouldn't willingly obey even if He did.

Ouch.

Now, some of you may find that ridiculous that I am so attached to my sweets, especially those of you who have already been forced to give them up for health reasons and your life continues quite swimmingly. But I challenge you to examine your own life: what are YOU not neutral on? What's the thing that -- if God said, "That has to go." -- you would flat-out refuse? Because I'm convinced we all have something. Some of us have less things . . . some of us have less obvious things . . . for some of us, our things are things that don't seem necessary to give up so the question has never arisen.

But we all, I'm guessing, have something that we refuse to submit to God's authority over.

So, I'll pray for you if you pray for me. Jesus isn't Lord over me if he isn't also Lord over my chocolate chip cookies. And establishing him as Lord is the first step to everything that matters.

The Cornelius Decision

So, who else is watching "A.D.", the TV series? I rarely read any comments about it on FB, even from my rabid Christian friends, so I wonder.

It hasn't grabbed me and addicted me (like other shows I'm having to wait until the fall to see again . . . grrr), but it's interesting. Some folks are probably upset about the "extra-biblical" material, angles on the story that were not in the original text. The traveling Ethopian eunuch was involved in a plot against the Romans? James arranged with Caiaphas for the Jesus-followers to be accepted into the temple again? And John the disciple as a black man . . . I understand the desire for ethnic diversity here, but that's really stretching things.

I'm not necessarily bothered by these angles, though. It concerns me a little that the biblically illiterate will watch this and think this is all in the Bible, but because none of it that I've seen yet is contradictory to the important message and spirit of the text, I'm okay with it so far. In fact, as a Bible student and script writer, I'm pretty fascinated by the background stories they are supposing here, based on the sketchy details we are given in the book.

We just caught up yesterday on the episode we missed on vacation. And this was an episode I've been waiting for. From the beginning, when Pilate sent his top centurion out to do some violence and called him Cornelius, I've been waiting for the soldier's conversion -- because I knew this HAD to be that Cornelius. And it was. Great idea to have such a crucial character to the gospel story involved in everything from the start, even though in the Bible he pops up pretty randomly and isn't heard from again.

So, yesterday, Cornelius met Jesus. And he is then immediately called in by Pilate to lead his squadron of soldiers to bring the golden statue of Caligula into the Jewish temple . . . and to kill every Jew that tries to stop them. He's a soldier; he's been given orders, orders he must obey or he will be killed himself. Peter asks him what he will do. Cornelius responds that he will pray that the Holy Spirit shows him what to do. Good answer.

So, Cornelius marches his troops with the offensive statue to the gates of the temple, where he politely asks (there's a change right there) the high priest to step aside so he can fulfill his orders. In answer, Caiaphas offers his throat -- kill me if you must, I won't allow you to desecrate God's temple. Cornelius must decide which master he will obey: his earthly master or his heavenly master. And he must decide in a very public way, with EVERYONE watching. He hesitates.

And in that moment, the mob behind him attacks his squadron, and he is left alone kneeling and praying with his new Christian brothers, while the battle rages without his participation. And his soldiers don't seem to notice.

The episode ended before we found out if there will be consequences for Cornelius not obeying Pilate's orders. I suspect there will be. But isn't it interesting that this episode aired now? An episode that deals with the question of what do I do when doing my job, when obeying governmental authority, goes directly against what I know is God's will?

I'm anxious to see how this will play out in "A.D." I'm even more anxious to see how it will play out in my country.

My Future With Dementia

Yesterday, a friend posted on FB a link to a news story about Alzheimer’s disease (which you can see here). The reporter experienced a simulation created to give you an idea of how life is for victims. It was fascinating to watch.

My father died in 2001 after a 21-year battle with Alzheimer’s. His three sisters have all been diagnosed now as well. (His three brothers haven’t shown any symptoms that I’m aware of.) Since there is a genetic component to this, I've known for quite a while that there’s a chance that I may be afflicted one of these days.

I think that should disturb me more than it does. Maybe if I watch more videos like this one, it will. And maybe as I get older (Dad was diagnosed in his mid-50s), it will. But right now, I surprisingly seem to take this in stride.

I've made it clear to my family that I want them to have no hesitations over putting me in a nursing home when it is time. Please do the work to be sure it’s a good nursing home (I may even do some care-shopping myself while I’m capable). And please keep an eye on me and visit me frequently. But don’t think you’re being heroic or loving by keeping me in your house when I reach the point of being dangerously debilitated. Put me where I’m safe and you’re safe, too.

I've also made it clear that I want them to appreciate the humor in the situation whenever they can. Seriously. I remember once visiting my dad in the common room of his care center when a fellow patient wandered into the room. She looked around curiously, and then announced loudly to everyone present, “I gotta pee!” And she dropped her sweatpants and undergarments to her ankles. The four care workers in the room came diving from their various corners, calling in unison, “Noooooo!!!!”

I tried SO hard to stifle my laughter. It was hilarious. Please don’t judge me – if that had been my dad, I would have laughed, too. It was funny, people! If I get to where I’m doing crazy stuff like that, I want my family to feel free to find some enjoyment in it. Life will be hard enough at that point; you gotta see the humor where you can.

The editor of World magazine once wrote about his mother's Alzheimer's experience. She had apparently had a miserable, difficult life and was generally a very unpleasant, miserable person to be around for most of it. Until she got dementia. Then she forgot all the old resentments and hurts -- every day was new and bright. He said her last three years of life were probably her happiest. Sometimes there is a blessing in forgetting.

I don't expect that to be me -- I don't think I have horrible resentments that will bring bliss when they are forgotten. But I have been making a point of trying to change my general mental state. What I have noticed about people as they age (including my parents) is that they don't really change in personality; they just lose their ability (or desire sometimes) to put on the mask that they are expected to wear in polite society. They say what they really think. They act how they really feel. They stop playing the "nice" game, and usually not by choice. 

This being the case, I want to be sure that I'm genuinely nice, that my thoughts and feelings are full of grace and love, so when my filter is gone, I'm not spouting venom to the world that serves to isolate me from the world. My best preparation for old age, I think, is submitting myself wholeheartedly to God changing me from the inside out, so I'm as much like Him as possible. 

Which, really, should be my goal in life anyway, right?

Gluttony

My name is Gwen, and I am a glutton.

gluttony (n.): an inordinate desire to consume more than that which one requires

I could have said something like "sugaraholic", because my problem is actually not necessarily with the total amounts of food I eat, but with the amount of sweets that I eat. But the term "sugaraholic" (which I have used to refer to myself many times before) has a bit of the same connotation that alcoholic does, implying some helplessless in the matter. And while yes, I believe I have created a physiological "dependency" in my body to some extent, the fact is, I'm not at all helpless about this.

This is a choice. And it is a sinful choice. You all are my "priests" today that I am confessing to.

I read an article recently that asked the question, what would happen if we, in the church, treated the sin of gluttony the same way we treat the sin of homosexuality? And goodness -- seriously, what would happen? Imagine how offended people would get! There's no denying that gluttony is probably an epidemic in our society and even in our churches. There's hardly a toe in the Body of Christ that wouldn't get stepped on.

But we gloss over gluttony. We make light of it. We even glorify it in some contexts. (How many over-eating Christians out there are livid about the sexual sin running rampant in our society and yet engorge themselves on a daily basis without a second thought -- even thanking God for the food He's provided for them to engorge themselves with?) I can think of friends right now who I know will think it is ridiculous that I am concerned about this problem of mine as a sin. A health issue, yes, but a sin? Come on, girlfriend -- if that's the worst you got, you got no sin problems . . . let me show you my rap sheet.

But anyone who knows their Bible knows that sin is sin is sin. And this is the sin God has been convicting me of for a long time now. It's not a small thing, at least not in my life.

Eating so much sugar makes my body weak, which hinders me from doing the work God has called me to.

Eating so much sugar affects my moods, which hurts my relationships, especially with my family, and keeps me from loving others in the way I am supposed to.

Eating so much sugar probably affects my sleep, which is already an issue and which affects everything already mentioned.

But even more so, eating so much sugar gets in the way of my relationship with God. I eat sugar for comfort, to feel better in a rough moment. I eat it for energy, to pick me up when I'm crashing. And God has already provided something to meet those needs in my life: Himself. HE is to be my comfort; HE is to carry me through difficult times. When I consistently turn to something else to play the role that God is supposed to play in my life, I'm breaking one of the Big Ten: that's idolatry.

It doesn't matter than I'm not obese or diabetic or anything like that. I'm not as intimate with my Father as He and I want to be -- and He's made it quite clear that this is one of the things standing in the way. Simply because it represents a choice I'm making that denies His being who He is. And there's no intimacy with God when you're denying who He is.

So there's my public confession, which I decided was necessary for me to actually lick this thing. First John (a favorite book of mine) tells us that "walking in the light" is necessary for fellowship with God, and fellowship with God has become my top priority. So I'm taking this problem out of the darkness and putting it into the light, where it can actually be dealt with. Feel free to pull your own sins out of darkness and join me in the light in this New Year, friends.

Thoughts While Taking Communion Yesterday

This is the body of Christ, broken for you.

Broken for me. Because I'm a sinner, and that's what it took to get me back into a right relationship with God.

And Lord KNOWS, I'm a sinner. These people who go around thinking, "I'm not so sinful -- my good outweighs my bad, so I'm safe on judgment day" . . . seriously? Have they read the Ten Commandments? Do they understand the standards here? Complete submission to God is a formidable challenge, and nothing less than complete submission counts.

I sin all the time. I sin sins that I know are sins even while I'm sinning them. I wake up saying I'm not going to do this, and I still do it. I hate what I do, and I do it anyway. Over and over. There are certain sins that I've stopped doing over the years, but I'm well aware that it wasn't me and my self-control that ended that behavior. It was an act of God. Praise Him.

The body of Christ, broken for me, because I can't take care of this myself. Thank you, Jesus.

And now, at Christmas, I'm happy to be reminded that your whole reason for coming to earth was for this body-breaking moment. Yes, it is good to hear your preaching . . . but most people didn't really listen and don't really listen. Yes, it was beneficial to see your example of righteous living . . . but most people weren't and aren't paying attention. All that was good, but if those were your sole purposes for coming to us, your mission was not very successful. But that wasn't your mission. Your mission was not to instruct my mind, or to inspire my spirit, but to save my soul.

PRAISE YOU. And thank you!

This is the blood of Christ, shed for you.

Shed to establish a new covenant. We've been learning about that in BSF. A covenant -- a commitment with a promise -- but stronger than those words imply.

An unconditional covenant . . . there's nothing I have to do (or can do) to earn the benefits of this covenant, except receive it. Thank you, Lord.

A one-sided covenant . . . God did all the promising. We just enjoy the things promised. Praise you, Jesus!

But I can't receive it unless I believe. Just like I can't "receive" my husband's love unless I believe that he really loves me. As long as I doubt his love, I have my guard up. I don't get to experience the benefits of his love for me without making myself vulnerable. I have to believe, and believe strongly enough to risk getting burned if I'm wrong. "There is no fear in love," James tells us.

And there is no unbelief in the covenant. Only faith. "The righteous shall live by faith." I believe, Lord; help thou my unbelief.

The blood of Christ, shed for me. To make a covenant with me before I even knew Him.

Thank you, Jesus.

Do this in remembrance of me.

Reality TV Christians

Apparently John Luke Robertson is engaged. And apparently he and his fiancee are staying abstinent until marriage.

My first reaction: I would never want to put myself in a position where I felt such information needed to be shared with the world. I have NO desire for fame.

My second reaction: it saddens me to no end that being abstinent until marriage is a big enough deal to be a news story.

Seriously.

A friend was telling me a while back that, at the church we attended together a couple moves ago, most of the young people we loved and respected have no qualms at all about living together and having sex before they get married. None at all. Christian young people. It's just no big deal.

I cannot tell you how sad that makes me.

I suppose I would expect that of unbelievers, but even in them, it makes me sad. It's one thing when you have an ideal in your head to save yourself for your wedding day, but you fail to live up to your ideal in the end. That's a sad thing, too. But it's quite another to go into your dating years without even having the mindset that saving yourself is a desirable thing worth the effort. Without feeling any sense of shame or guilt AT ALL about crossing a line that the God you claim to worship and submit to has clearly drawn for you. Clearly.

How in the world did we get here? How did the church manage to raise a generation who has so little regard for the word of their God?

Ugh. If I think about this too much, it really discourages me.

So back to John Luke. I haven't seen "Duck Dynasty" for a while -- my girls kind of got off of that kick. They're more interested in the Duggar crew these days and their various courtships, engagements, marriages, and baby-birthing.

I don't know what to think about the Duggars. If nothing else, they at least are putting some important topics out in the public eye to be discussed. Like modesty, healthy relationships, and such. And for the most part, they don't seem really pushy about things.

They just seem annoying. Are friends going to hate me for saying that? The Duggars annoy me. They're the kind of people that, if I knew them in real life, I would admire for some things but would avoid having to spend too much time with them because they just flat out turn me off.

Maybe they're different in real life -- maybe they would seem a little more genuine and natural than they do on TV. I can't imagine living your life in the public eye like they do: staging conversations and situations for the ever-present cameras (because yes, I have no doubt most of those are "staged", even if they are conversations and situations that would have happened for real without the cameras there).

For instance, when Jessa's boyfriend (I forget his name) approached Jim Bob to ask for permission to propose. They did this on camera. I don't believe for a moment that Jim Bob walked into that room without knowing that this discussion was going to happen. It was awkward; it was weird; it was a personal moment that did not need to be acted out for the world to watch. And it annoyed me that they did act it out for the world to watch.

I suppose I should be happy that there are confessing Christians out there living a Christian life in the public eye as a testimony. But I'm not sure that I am. I think I'd rather there were more confessing Christians living a good Christian life in their homes, neighborhoods, and workplaces for their friends to see as a testimony.

And dear friends, that would most definitely include saving yourself for marriage. Sigh.

Old Testament Law, Justice, and Slavery

Our BSF study this year is about the life of Moses, and it covers the Old Testament books of the law, the complicated parts that everyone gets bogged down with and argues over. I've been particularly looking forward to this study. For one thing, I've always wanted to understand those books better -- to know how to apply them to our modern life. But more than that, I had many friends back in my early years of BSF who said that this particular year of BSF was life-changing for them.

So, last night was our first lesson actually starting to get into the specific laws (Exodus 21-24). And because we're just getting into it, I'm not yet going to claim any grand revelations or insights. But I did find some things interesting . . . and I did get hints of grand revelations and insights that may be to come.

- There are three types of Law given in the Old Testament. The first is the Moral Law, represented by the Ten Commandments. These were described as laws about "how to live as individuals." They are binding upon all people at all times, throughout history and throughout cultures.

-The second type were the civil laws. These were about "how to live as a nation", and they specifically applied to Israel in its theocracy at that time. Many (probably most) people argue that these laws do not directly apply to us today. However, they reveal the character of God, and therefore the principles behind them should be applied today.

- The third type were the ceremonial laws. We haven't read these yet, but they involve the sacrifices and so forth which maintained Israel's relationship with a righteous God. Jesus' sacrifice fulfilled all of these. They do not apply anymore.

- But going back to those civil laws: these are the most controversial because it takes discernment to figure out what to do with these. But again, if you are looking at the principles behind them, a couple things stood out to me.

- There is a whole group of laws that apply to personal injury and property rights (Ex 21:12 - 22:15). Here is where we find the first instance of that old adage, "An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth." And what's interesting is that, this does seem to be the first instance of that concept. Like, ever. In ancient times, retaliation was the rule. If somebody did you wrong, you got back, and often in a really big way. This principle was given to ensure that punishment was equal in proportion to the offense, and it was rather revolutionary in that respect, apparently.

In other words, the laws were an attempt to teach the Israelites (and through them, the rest of the world) about Justice, a primary trait of God's. God is just . . . in fact, He is Justice; the only understanding we have of the concept of justice comes to us from where God has inserted Himself into our world and our understanding. On our own human understanding, we only get retaliation. But when we are taught justice, we recognize it as good, because we are made in God's image, although that image has been corrupted.

Now, when Jesus was on earth, he went even further: "You have heard it said, 'Eye for eye and tooth for tooth.' But I tell you . . . if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other one, also." Jesus taught mercy and self-sacrifice. Not that justice was now invalid . . . but Jesus' coming was the beginning of the era when we can be indwelled by the Spirit and enabled to do beyond what our human nature allows . . . when we are enabled to be Christ-like.

- Another note: this passage talks about slavery, and I know many are troubled by the fact that the Bible seems to "endorse" slavery. But slavery as discussed in the civil laws given by Moses is a different animal than our modern notion of slavery. First, the law called for the death penalty for anyone who kidnapped and sold any person. Clearly, this type of slavery (which is basically ALL modern or recent forms of slavery) is out of God's will. Hebrews, it seems, took slaves as payments on debts or punishments for crimes -- that kind of thing. Slavery as it happened in the United States, and as it continues around the world today, would have been unacceptable in the ancient Hebrew state.

Second, permanent, involuntary servitude was not allowed among the Hebrews; slaves were to be freed in their seventh year -- and even given a share of the flock and food to be able to start a new life and avoid falling into slavery again.

Third, a slave's family was respected and considered. Families were not torn apart, as often happened in slavery in America.

Fourth -- and this is most telling to me -- slaves were offered the option of choosing to become a permanent slave to their master rather than taking their freedom in the seventh year. And this option was often chosen. Apparently, slavery was not always undesirable. Hebrew slaves were treated well, considered part of the family, were protected by strict laws about their care, and were often quite devoted to their masters. (This particular concept of choosing to become a permanent bondservant is a model of our relationship with God as believers. A topic for another post.)

And again, we see new standards set in the New Testament, after Jesus ushers in the Age of the Holy Spirit, when we are enabled to "be holy as He is holy." In the New Testament book of Philemon, Paul writes to Philemon on behalf of Onesimus, Philemon's slave who ran away and then met Paul and became a Christian. Paul is encouraging Onesimus to return to his master and submit to him . . . but he is also encouraging Philemon (also a Christian) to see his relationship with his slave as changed. "Perhaps the reason he was separated from you for a little while was that you might have him back forever -- no longer as a slave, but better than a slave, as a dear brother."

Paul doesn't call for the elimination of the slave/master relationship -- as practiced in Israel, that institution actually revealed important things about God and about man. But just as Jesus encouraged us to go beyond simple justice to godly mercy, Paul encourages Philemon to go beyond his rights as a slaveowner to a relationship based on brotherhood in Christ.


Just a few things I noted . . . none completely digested and analyzed yet . . . more insights to come as the year progresses, I'm sure.

Enjoying God is Conditional

You know, they say that your brain continues to think about problems and concerns while you sleep. I wonder if that's true.

Last night at BSF, our teaching leader made a statement that troubled me. In her lecture about Exodus 19-20, she remarked that "God's covenant with Israel was unconditional," (that is, they did nothing to earn it or maintain it or cancel it) "but their enjoyment of that covenant was conditional: it depended on their obedience."

And as I said, that troubled me. So, He chose them to be His people -- all on His impetus; they had nothing to do with making that happen -- but they don't get to enjoy that covenant unless they do this and this and this? It kind of sounds like some passive aggressive manipulation. Like some kind of sick game.

But this morning, I woke up and thought while lying in bed, "What should I blog about?" And that statement from my teaching leader suddenly came to mind . . . and I got it.

Because it's kind of like my husband's and my relationship with our daughter. She had nothing to do with the decision to be born in our family. She did nothing to "deserve" it. We established that relationship, and she just gets to benefit from it.

And there's nothing she can do that can sever that connection between us. We will always be the people who birthed her. Always. That relationship between us is "unconditional."

However . . . if she wants to enjoy all of the benefits of that relationship, there ARE things she has to do. If she wants to enjoy our company, she has to spend time with us. If she wants to share in the material blessings our family has, she has to either live under our roof or accept the gifts we offer her. If she wants the benefit of our wisdom, she has to listen to us and trust us. If she wants our help with problems, she has to open up to us about those problems.

And yes, she has to obey us. If she wants the benefit of our protecting her from certain dangers in the world, she has to trust and obey.

We don't dangle those blessings in front of her face, trying to manipulate her into doing what we want before we will give them to her. It's the natural course of things that for her to have those blessings requires a level of intimacy between her and us -- and she has the choice of nurturing that intimacy or not. On our end, we are all open arms.

And so is God on His end.

Yep, now I get it.

Small Me

My boss has a blog, too, and her post this morning reminded me of a dream I had many years ago.

In my dream, I had just been hired at a new job -- well, hired on a one-week trial basis. My new boss (the one in the dream, not the real-life blogger) was going to be out of town for that week, and he gave me three specific jobs to get done while he was gone: Job #1, Job #2, and Job #3. None of these jobs were terribly difficult. I was confident I would come out of this week shining pretty and get hired for sure.

But as the week progressed and I walked around the company getting to know how things worked, I found the place was absolutely falling apart. I spent the whole week fixing messes, putting out fires, trying to keep the ship afloat, to mix a bunch of metaphors. It was exhausting, but a bit exhilarating as well. I felt so valuable and competent. Wouldn't the boss be thrilled to have me on board?

So, at the end of the week, boss-man returned and asked me how my week went. I told him everything, all the disasters I had found and all the problems I had fixed, trying desperately to communicate my excellence while maintaining a veneer of humility and carefully avoiding the implication that my boss didn't know what he was doing.

He listened quietly. Then he said, "But I didn't ask you to do any of those things. I asked you to do Job #1, Job #2, and Job #3."

And in a moment of horror, I realized . . . I had done none of those jobs.

Then he proceeded to explain to me how, in my zealous efforts to rescue the company, I had actually messed everything up. I was the one who didn't know what I was doing. I didn't have the big picture, like he did. I screwed up. I screwed everything up. Royally.

"It's not your job to keep this ship afloat," the boss said. "That's MY job -- and I'm quite capable of doing my job. Your job is to do exactly what I ask you to do. No more; no less."

I woke up just as my heart was dropping to my feet, fully expecting to get fired on the spot . . . and I didn't need a prophet to interpret this dream for me. I knew EXACTLY what God was trying to tell me.

You are not the Savior. You are not here to fix every problem you come into contact with. You are here to do exactly what I tell you to do: Job #1, Job #2, and Job #3. Get over your messiah complex, and just listen and obey. 

The day I learned how small I am and how valued and useful I can be in my smallness. Except I'm still learning.

Here's My Heart

Oh, to grace, how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be.

I could force my children into moral behavior. Well, I could have to an extent, when they were younger . . . my oldest being eighteen now, everything is a little more complicated . . . but that's kind of extraneous to the point I want to make here, so we'll gloss over that for now and return to . . .

I could force my children into moral behavior. In fact, that's what parents do on some level when our children are young. Through various disciplinary techniques, we require our children to behave morally with the hopes that these behaviors, which are not natural to them, will become reinforced and habitual, and with the hopes that they will see the benefits of moral behavior and strive to continue in that vein.

Let Thy goodness, like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to Thee.

In fact, it seems like the bulk of our parenting effort when our kids are young is expended toward shaping good, responsible kids -- probably because that task requires so much effort. Our natural bent toward sin makes this training a long-term job, one that doesn't ever get completed, one that our children (we hope) eventually take up to work on in themselves.

So much energy gets spent toward the goal of making our children good that it's sometimes easy to lose sight of the fact that this isn't our primary goal in parenting. At least it shouldn't be. At least it's not mine.

It's also not my primary goal that my children be happy. Not that I don't want them to be happy, but we all know that the happiness they desire from us today is temporary and destines them for misery later. The happiness we desire for them requires gruntwork today that is no fun.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it; prone to leave the God I love.

If I limit myself to the temporal goals I have for my children in this life (which I will for the purposes of this metaphor), one of my primary goals is for my children to have a relationship with me. A real relationship. Genuine, authentic relationship. Relationship appropriate to who we each are to each other -- not buddies, not business associates, but a mother and child. If I raise "happy," "good" children who don't have an authentic relationship with me, I have not really succeeded in my goal as a mother.

And it strikes me lately that I need to remember this about my heavenly Father as well. It is often easy to lose sight of the fact that His ultimate goal for me while I'm on this earth is not to make me a good, moral person (although He'd like that). Neither is it to make me happy in this life (although He wants that, too). Both of those goals pale in comparison to the ultimate, crucial need to establish a genuine, authentic relationship with me -- a relationship based in the reality of who we each are: father/child, master/servant, king/subject, creator/masterpiece, bridegroom/beloved bride. Goodness and happiness will all be taken care of some day; the relationship part has to be taken care of NOW.

I'm finding that when the ways of God don't make sense to me, it's usually because I've forgotten His ultimate goal. Not my morality or my levity, but my heart.

Here's my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for Thy courts above.

The Stupidity of Crawling the Fence

A pastor we heard yesterday made an important observation about the Law, specifically the Ten Commandments. Note the words at the beginning of Exodus 20:

I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery.

This is what He says before He starts giving them the Law. "I am the Lord your God." Not "I will be the Lord your God once you get your act together and start following these laws," but "I'm your God now -- our relationship is already established. These laws don't create a relationship between us; they maintain that relationship and protect you."

You all know we got a dog in January. Wheatly. Cutest dog ever. Had there not already been a fence around our yard, we probably would have put one up after we brought him home. Not to make Wheatly our dog, but because Wheatly is our dog, and we want to keep it that way.

Say Wheatly got out of the confines of our fence somehow and ended up in the neighbors' yard. They may have called us to say, "Hey, we have your dog." We would not have responded by saying, "Oh, no, that can't be. If he's out of our yard, outside of our fence, he's not our dog. Any dog of ours would be inside of our fence."

No, inside or outside of our fence, we still claim him. He still belongs to us. The fence doesn't make him our dog. The fence allows us to take care of him, to protect him, and to enjoy him -- and allows him to enjoy us, which he does.

This is how the Law works that God gave his people. He didn't give it to us as part of a contract: you do your part by obeying all these commands, and I'll do my part by taking care of you. Our relationship is only intact when we both keep up the contract. Stop obeying the rules, and I'm no longer under obligation to consider you mine. The relationship will be cut off.

No, the relationship came first. The relationship came by His initiation, His invitation, and our acceptance. He loves us and claims us no matter what we do, because we are His and never stop being so. The fence -- the rules -- are not there to establish the relationship but to make the relationship work. To protect us and to keep us in a place where we can actually enjoy each other.

The fence-crawlers, those always looking for a gap where they can get to the other side of the rules . . . they would do much better to relax and realize the joy and peace of living in relationship with the Father. I am the Lord . . . your God. The world outside the fence ain't got nothin' on life with Him.

Lean On Me

A number of years ago, there was a family in a certain group of friends we were in who was going through some serious struggles. Major illnesses, job loss, hospitalizations, financial setbacks . . . serious struggles. Our group rallied around them in every way, providing emotional, spiritual, and material support as best we could.

Ultimately, there came a point where it was clear that their financial needs were going to continue for a while and were going to be beyond what we friends could help them with. That's when one of the group approached the couple, suggesting that they ought to look into some government assistance until the situation turned around.

They refused. They had no intention of being on welfare, they said. Their friends tried to change their mind – you would not be taking advantage of the system or of anybody. You've paid into the system over the years. And you are exactly the kind of people in exactly the kind of situation that these programs are intended for. Still, they refused.

This is pride, and not the good kind. This is not a demonstration of independence and self-sufficiency – this is a demonstration of foolish stubbornness. A person who refuses the help available when they are in genuine need of help thinks too highly of himself. He thinks he should be above the kind of interdependence that God has designed us to live in.

Yes, you just heard a conservative Republican say that: we are meant to be dependent on each other. The stereotypical self-made lone-ranger American is not a biblical model for living. On the contrary, the model we are given in scripture is that of a body, where each part does its job and subordinates itself to the Head, which is Christ. Arms need feet, and livers need eyeballs, and they all need the Brain . . . which interacts with the world through the other parts. As good as it may feel to folks to be able to say they don't need anyone else when times get tough (or even when times are good), they are distinctly out of the will of God when that is the condition of their heart.

What's more, such an attitude of self-sufficiency will send you straight to hell. Consider what this person is (consciously or subconsciously) saying to God. “Yes, Lord, I hear you telling me that I can't put myself right on my own, that you want to do this for me as a gift of grace. But see, I don't take charity. If I can't do it myself, I'd rather just do without. I'll muddle by as best I can on my own efforts. That's good enough for me. Give all that grace to someone else who needs it more. I'm good. Thanks anyway.”

You're not good. When it comes to your righteousness and salvation and eternal destiny, you're absolutely, positively not good. You're in desperate need of God's intervention, whether you realize it or not. And maybe creating us to be dependent on each other is part of the humbling process that brings us back to Him.

God, teach us that balance of interdependence and personal responsibility in our social realm . . . but teach us how to be child-like and completely dependent on You in every realm.

An Old Truth, Fresh and New

My daughter has been attending Bible Study Fellowship with me this year. By her choice, not by my insistence. And while she acknowledges that it's not always a lot of fun, and many Tuesday nights, she's tired and doesn't feel like going, she frequently comes home with insights that she's excited about. (And the fact that my daughter gets excited about having spiritual insights gets me excited.)

The other night, she came to a realization that I thought was especially important. A truth that I've tried to communicate to her before, and that I've tried to communicate in this blog before, but it suddenly rang true in her heart. Let me see if I can explain it how she did:

“You know, Mom, I realized tonight that I spend all my time and energy trying to make myself a better person. I try to work harder at school and everything. I try to be nicer to everybody. I try to be responsible and mature. I try to do everything right. And that's probably all fine . . .

“. . . except that's not what Christianity is about. God isn't concerned with me trying to be a better person. God knows that I'm not going to improve myself enough to mean anything or matter. I mean, if I could make myself a good person, there would have been no reason for Jesus to die on the cross for me. He wouldn't have had to make that sacrifice. He could've just given me a list of rules and told me to keep trying harder.

“This isn't supposed to be about me trying to be a better person all the time. This is supposed to be about me knowing God and loving God. If I took all that energy I'm putting into improving myself and put it into really getting to know God, so I love Him more and more . . . well, that's all I'm supposed to do.

“Then God takes care of the rest. If He has something in me He wants changed, He'll take care of that. And if I finally really know Him and love Him, I'll be completely surrendered to Him so He CAN change that thing in me. He's the only one who can do it anyway – I was never able to make myself a better person on my own. And He never expected me to! The plan was ALWAYS that He would do it Himself if I just handed my life over to Him to do it.”

Okay, I'll admit: she summarized all that in about three sentences. I elaborated. Because that's what I do.

But I remember the moment this all became clear to me -- and I was excited for her excitement, for what this could mean to her if she really gets that. It took me years to get it, and I still struggle with believing it enough to live it.  If she learned nothing else in twenty-some weeks of BSF this year, this moment of spiritual enlightenment was well worth the time and effort. Hang on tight to that truth, honey. And make it true in your life.

Killing Ourselves in the Name of Happiness

My daughter was watching an episode of “Sam and Cat” on the Disney channel. Sam and Cat's favorite soft drink, Blue Dog, was declared illegal in the state of California because it had too much sugar in it and "some people drink too much of it." Folks from the Federal Bureau of Interference came to confiscate all the Blue Dog soda out of the store they were in.

The Federal Bureau of Interference. Yes, the producers had a statement to make here.

Interestingly, my daughter thought this was a spoof on Prohibition. Glad to see she's been paying attention in history class. But her dad and I filled her in on the current issues this was about.

Here's the thing, folks. Is there anybody out there who doesn't know that drinking too much pop is bad for you? Really – anyone?

Okay, maybe there are a few clueless folks. Eliminate them from the discussion here. The bulk of us are well aware that drinking too much pop is bad for you. Too much sugar. Leads to obesity and diabetes. Rots your teeth. Messes with your blood sugar. We know this.

So, why do we keep drinking so much pop?

Indeed, why do we continue to consume all the crap out there that's bad for us? Coffee, candy bars, refined sugar, transfats, red dyes, beer . . . how many times do we have to hear this stuff? How many dress sizes do we have to increase . . . how many illnesses do we have do endure . . . how many drugs do we have to be prescribed . . . how many premature deaths of the one we love do we need to witness before we understand that we are literally killing ourselves with the way we eat?

Those aren't really rhetorical questions, either. As I've mentioned before here, I am a hopeless carb and sugar addict. I'm well aware of how bad this is for me, but I continue to eat this way. A few weeks ago in BSF, the teaching leader said something on a completely different topic, but the Lord turned the words around to say to me, in my heart, how many times do you need to hear that all the sugar you eat is keeping you from the life I have for you?

Uh . . five more?

The unfortunate answer is that hearing the truth and knowing the truth doesn't always result in acting on the truth. We eat crap (and smoke, and watch trash on TV, and gossip, and . . . and . . . ) because it makes us feel good. And feeling good has become the purpose of existence in our modern times, the thing that gives meaning to life. A book I'm reading talks about how in past cultures, people found meaning in life through honor, or community, or "leaving a legacy", or even through enduring suffering well. In this age of technological advancement, comfort and happiness is our idol of choice.

Which, as this book discusses, gives us no "spiritual" resources for dealing with the inevitable suffering of life. The only salve our god can give us is escape through more overdose of comfort and happiness . . . and thus we have a nation of addicts.

It's crazy, isn't it? We know that doing this stuff in excess is bad for us. We know that continuing in this path will ruin us.  We know that what gives us pleasure today will eventually take us captive and end all real pleasure in our lives. But we keep doing it.

What pitiful saps we are that we require laws to force us to do what we know will make us truly happy. Sad.

A 7-Food Fast . . . Wow

I'm reading a book by Jen Hatmaker called 7: An Experimental Mutiny against Excess.  I expect to write about this book several more times, so you may as well go out and buy it for yourself.  It's a pretty amazing book.

The premise is, Ms. Jen decided to do some radical fasting in seven different areas of her life for a month each.  The first was food. For one month, she ate only seven foods:

- chicken
- eggs
- whole wheat bread
- sweet potatoes
- avocadoes
- spinach
- apples

She did a bit of research ahead of time to be sure that these foods would give her a good balance of the nutrition she needed. She allowed herself salt and pepper for seasoning and a little bit of olive oil for cooking in when necessary.  But nothing else. Only water to drink.

Like I said, radical.

This was difficult for her because she's something of a foodie. I think it would be difficult for me because I'm not at all a foodie. I'm a rather picky eater. I can eat all of these foods, but only when served just right. I like my sweet potatoes fried. I like my avocado with salsa and chips. I like my spinach doused in dressing -- or if it's cooked, layered between lasagna noodles and tomato sauce. Each of these foods are fine, but to eat only these foods would be awful.

So, why did she do it? Well, as I said, it was a fast. And she got all the benefits out of it that one gets from a fast, particularly a recognition of how much excess there is in her life (note again the sub-title) and the freedom of surrender and submission and giving up idols. She also commented on the extra energy she had . . . that her allergies were gone . . . that her skin was so much cleaner and brighter.

It reminded me of when I changed my diet a few years ago. I was seeing a holistic kind of doctor for help with my sleep issues, and he got me changing a lot of things about how I ate.  I blogged about it at the time (here). About how I was trying to eat more variety of foods, more natural foods, etc.  (I also immediately blogged about crashing and burning on it all one day. Hubris.) I lost a good amount of weight during that time. Felt a lot better. Looked a lot better. (Didn't sleep a lot better, but I guess you can't win 'em all.)

I've been aggravated at myself for what my eating habits have become again. And something about Ms. Jen's 7-food fast appealed to me . . . but then I know if I actually tried to do that, I would want to shoot myself within a couple days. That was for a month -- I need to make changes that I can sustain for the long-term. Changes like I made before.

Sigh. Why can't the lessons I learn stay learnt?

The Bible Know-It-All

"So, is it a good thing or a bad thing when you know all the answers in Bible class?" my eldest asked me.

After a fleeting moment of pride at my daughter's brilliance, I consider countering with, "Maybe the question should be, is it a good thing or a bad thing when you think you know all the answers in Bible class?"

But I didn't, partly because I'm trying to learn not to shut off valuable discussions with my ill-timed sarcasm, and partly because I know where she's coming from. She has not only been raised "in the church", which means a plethora of Sunday School classes, Vacation Bible Schools, youth evangelism rallies, and what all . . . but she was homeschooled by a Christian mama who thought it important that her kids knew The Book thoroughly. She's heard a lot of sermons -- listened to a lot of Christian radio -- asked a lot of questions and gotten a lot of answers.  She's a mini-me, in a sense.

Her point was, in her Bible class at school, when they have days where they are just supposed to bring up questions to discuss, things that trouble them or that they wonder about, she doesn't have much to bring up.  And the stuff that gets brought up, she doesn't find troubling. If she thinks about it long enough, she knows the answer . . . or she at least knows what the Bible teacher is going to say about it.

This has been an issue with Hubby over the years. Finding a Sunday School class or Bible study or small group that satisfies him is a challenge. It all seems old hat.  Been there, heard that, did the exegesis. "There is nothing new under the sun," as the Preacher said. As I've written about before, when you've heard this stuff from toddlerhood, even something as phenomenal and radical as God becoming man and rising from the dead loses its wonder.

So, yeah . . . I knew where she was coming from. We're supposed to be in the Word, constantly learning, but what if you don't feel like you're learning anything?

That's where the old James passage comes in, I think.  "Be ye doers of the Word, and not hearers only." (Get over the old English . . . I will forever have that in my head in the King James.)  This has been where God as convicted me a lot in the last several years. Sure, I know a lot.  I mean, I know a whole lot to be really frank. The question is not what I know; the question is what difference has it made.

I know all about the nature and attributes of God -- his sovereignty, his omniscience, his omnipotence, his everlasting love -- but has that stopped me from worrying about my future?

I know all about idolatry and the modern manifestations of it and the great effront it is to the Almighty -- but has that stopped me from setting food up on a pedestal as the Great Comforter in my life?

I know the second greatest command is to love your neighbor as yourself -- and that "my neighbor" can be defined as anyone out there in need -- but has that led me to seek out the hungry and the homeless and the hurting to show them love?

Yeah . . . who really cares what I know. I live like an ignorant heathen.

One thing I like about Bible Study Fellowship: they always push you to application. "What does this passage teach you about prayer, and how does that change your own prayer life?" "When have you behaved like the Pharisees in this passage, and what will you do differently now?"  "What have you learned from this chapter this week, and how have you applied that to your life?" 

So, that's what I told my daughter . . . what I try to tell myself . . . what I'm trying to say to you, my faithful reader. Shut up with your arrogant "yeah-yeah-I-know-all-that-already". Are you living it? Do you look different than the world because of your living it? Are you closer to God and more like Christ because of your living it?

May we be livers of the Word, and not knowers only.

Settling for What's Natural

Recently, several of my FB friends have been posting links to a blog by a guy named Matt Walsh, posts I enjoy reading but often hesitate to share on my own page because of his tone. Although I usually agree wholeheartedly with what he says, I frequently take issue with the snarky, mean-spirited tone in which he says it.

For instance, he recently responded to a sarcastic, self-aggrandizing critic who wrote trying to explain to him that monogamy isn't natural. His sarcastic, self-aggrandizing response ended with his calling the critic an imbecile.

But the points he made were excellent ones. Of course, monogamy isn't natural, he said. It's above natural. It's supernatural. A healthy monogamous relationship requires us to use the qualities human beings possess that make us something more than the animals.

I had a long conversation yesterday with an old Jersey friend, and one topic that came up is how curious it is that it has become the expected norm -- especially among young people, and even among Christian young people -- to live together before getting married. The argument, I expect (for the Christians at least), is that they know they are going to be getting married -- they're probably already engaged . . . essentially, anyway, if not officially. It just makes so much more sense to live in one place until then. They save money on rent, on gas going to see each other . . . they're going to spend all their time together at one or the other apartment anyway, right? It's just so much more convenient.

And I get this argument. My husband and I had this exact conversation concerning our living arrangements the year we were engaged. We "wasted" money on a dorm room for me when I spent almost all my time at his apartment. It was quite inconvenient.

But here's the thing: who said God calls us to a life that's convenient? To a life that's easy? Or "natural"? In fact, when I read what Jesus tells us, it seems completely the opposite. We're supposed to expect it to be hard -- and to be quite different from what our nature is pulling us toward.

Because in the end, marriage . . . no, let's go further. The Christian life is not about life getting easier. It's not about God making us happy people. It's not even about God making us good people. It's about God making us His people. About fixing the broken relationship between Him and humanity, one person at a time. And being in a right relationship with God requires an accurate and intimate knowledge of who He is and of who we are.

What if the only way we can understand who we are is to be frustrated by our limitations? What if God asks us to do more than we're capable of to show us how far we are from Him? What if He intentionally calls us to a higher life than we can live "naturally" . . . what if He purposefully gives us more than we can handle on our own . . . what if he knowingly puts us in situations where a supernatural, spiritual behavior is required from beings whose spirits are dead, just to reveal our dead spirits to us -- so we turn to Him for new life?

Because ultimately, getting that relationship right is the only way to be really happy.  Or to be good. Or maybe even to be "natural". But even if it made us none of these things in this earthly life, it would still be God's goal, and so we know it's something even better.