I think I might be either overly rebellious (entirely possible) or overly sensitive (totally possible) or both (pretty sure that's it).
Because when I sit in many of the churches we've been to, at least once during the sermon, I wince. Or my heart starts to race. Or I start looking around wondering if anyone else is shocked and notice no one seems to have felt a thing.
I'm frustrated. Mostly with myself. I don't expect a church to cater completely to the needs of my family. It's just that so many times, like I've said before, I come away feeling as if I don't fit in. Then I wonder why no one else seems uncomfortable, and figure it could just be my rebellious, cynical nature. Maybe I just don't like hearing certain things. Maybe they don't sit right with me because I don't want to have to change. Maybe the double-edged sword is a bit too much for me to handle in my immaturity sometimes. Maybe I hear things through my somewhat liberal ears, twisting what the person is saying so I can be offended and say, "I told you so, another judgmental closed-minded sermon."
Other times I think there's no way around it. Something is said that seems so far off, I never want to come back again. But I don't want my family to switch churches every six months when we're hopeful we've found a church home, then suddenly surprised by the misrepresentation of the word of God. I don't want to find out that things I hold dear are not being lived out. I don't want to feel as if there is no way the Holy Spirit is a part of the services, classes and other gatherings. I'm frustrated.
Today the pastor spoke on communion and the doctrinal beliefs behind it. All was well and good until he got a bit fired up and said some things that didn't sit well with me. I tried to check myself, asking myself not to judge him. I tried to understand where he's coming from, what he could mean. The sermon took a turn when the pastor started to talk about a poll that was done asking baby boomers if they're attending members of a church community. Many of the boomers answered that they would call themselves Christians, but they did not attend church each Sunday and were not members of any certain church.
I understand that the body of Christ is a vital aspect to faith. We hold each other up, we teach one another, and we even keep each other in line a bit, wanting to see one another living the fullest of lives possible. I agree with that.
But then the pastor started to talk about how "absurd" it would be to call yourself a Christian and not go to church.
He talked about the act of taking communion, and it's mysterious power when we do it together. True. That's cool. But then he said that if you were to take communion at home, with no one else there, "Jesus will not show up." He used the "where two or more are gathered" verse and basically said if there are less than two, God will not be there. He was specifically talking about communion.
I'm still chewing on this, so forgive me for rambling and thinking out loud a bit.
Then he also said that what you do in the world as an individual Christian is basically useless. It has to be done as a part of a church body (he was meaning a body that meets on Sundays, not the body). He said that handing out tracts on a corner by yourself does nothing for the people that read them (I'm not a fan of this method either, but I wouldn't be surprised if God has spoken love to someone at some point even through tracts.) He then moved on to say that loving people on your own, not representing a church, does nothing for the person you are loving. Because in the end it doesn't last. The person would not be witnessing Christ because they could just go and find the next person to love them, someone that may not even be a Christian and they'd find the same thing there. Basically saying that if your love cannot be traced back to a church or ministry, it is separate from Christianity.
I'm pretty sure that I think this is way off. Maybe I'm missing something. Yes, the church can definitely be effective in the world for those reasons, but first of all, how often is it effective in our world today? And what did Christ mean by "the Church?" And I sure hope that God still shows up when I'm not a part of a church community, because I can't seem to find one.
Mostly I'm just sad. Sad that we just can't find a home. A church where our kids can love other kids and learn about God. A place that doesn't sneak up and hit us over the head with stuff we just can't swallow. I was hopeful and now I'm disappointed again. Maybe it's wrong to not go back and give more chances. But to be honest, we had already heard a few things that didn't sit well with us, and we kept coming back because we were hopeful about the lovely congregation and children's programs.
But we don't want our kids to hear these kinds of messages either. I'm so frustrated.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Thoughts from the beach at Lake Superior
Heather said it was ok to cross-post this from my blog at The Midnight Cafe. So, here it is (edited to add that Mango = my husband, Vespera = my 17yr old daughter, Mane = my 6yr old daughter, and Novio = Vespera's boyfriend):
Last week we camped...5 days, 4 nights...just on the outskirts of Duluth. We brought the whole family + Novio.
On Wednesday evening I sat on the rock beach watching the waves come in, nestled up close to Mango, the wind whirring in our ears. Mane collected "rock babies." Vespera and Novio sat quietly, first taking pictures and then just still and contemplative. My heart was so full I could have laughed or cried. Instead I poured out my thoughts to Mango, poured them into the wind and the waves.
I have always loved the passion and intensity of teenage emotion. I love that electricity. And I think we are faced with a couple of choices as we grow out of our teenage years. We can stop feeling all that intensity because it's heavy and difficult, because it's hard to be stable and cope with life at that level of emotionality all the time. OR we can allow ourselves to feel, to be fully alive. And, in being fully alive, we have so much more experience and depth to the emtional intensity that follows. It makes your heart feel like bursting so very often, but the joy is just as deep and intense. Sometimes I feel as though I might drown in my own heart, covered over by the depth of all that I've learned and experienced since those teenage years.
I was aware, sitting there on the beach, that Vespera and Novio were in the midst of one of those deeply emotional moments. Novio comes from the ocean, and surfing was his hobby. Since moving to Minnesota he has not visited a body of water so vast that you cannot see the other side. The water and waves of Lake Superior were both the wound and the balm at the same time. So poignant. So bittersweet. The waves washed up old memories, even while we were there creating new ones.
I asked if the Lake made him homesick. His answer was heavy but quick and direct, "Yes, but Vespera is here, and I want to be with her." And they curled into each other, one wave inside another.
I honor the depth and breadth and truth of the emotions that my child and her Novio held out there in the wind that evening, while also acknowledging that the strength and depth of my own emotions go deeper...just because I've lived longer and known more, because I know them AND I know me. The wild ride of learning that we have intense and passionate emotional selves that begins in the teen years is really only the beginning. I can keep a cap on it better now if I want to, but when I sit in that quiet created by the rushing wind and crashing waves and allow myself to feel, I know that I draw from a well that is deeper now than it used to be. And I am so glad. I feel as though so many people around me have forgotten how to really just be connected to the waters of passion and intensity, of life and vitality. And the lack of connection limits our ability to love, to know joy, to be loved.
I do wonder how this relates to our ability to know God and be loved by God. God is such a powerful, intense, and vast Being. We connect a little bit to that vastness in those in-between years when we're so full of life and vitality ourselves. So much gets lost in the race to be successful, to care for our families, to do the necessary day-to-day things that we forget. We forget to open our arms wide to the wind and let the waves wash over us. We're filled with inhibitions that come from more experience, from fear. But our possibilities for understanding and knowing that Greatness, that Vastness are so much greater as we gain experience, more life, more depth. It's a conundrum, a paradox. Experience creates our inhibitions, but it also increases our potential for knowing and being loved by God and other human beings.
And this is why I love the wind and the waves. I love the way that the natural world grounds me in my humanness while drawing me into eternity, into a full, wide, expansive relationship with God and with others.
I want to live with the expansiveness of a teenager and with the tiny bits of wisdom I've gained since then. I want to put to use the full range of human life and emotion that God has granted me. I am willing.
Last week we camped...5 days, 4 nights...just on the outskirts of Duluth. We brought the whole family + Novio.
On Wednesday evening I sat on the rock beach watching the waves come in, nestled up close to Mango, the wind whirring in our ears. Mane collected "rock babies." Vespera and Novio sat quietly, first taking pictures and then just still and contemplative. My heart was so full I could have laughed or cried. Instead I poured out my thoughts to Mango, poured them into the wind and the waves.
I have always loved the passion and intensity of teenage emotion. I love that electricity. And I think we are faced with a couple of choices as we grow out of our teenage years. We can stop feeling all that intensity because it's heavy and difficult, because it's hard to be stable and cope with life at that level of emotionality all the time. OR we can allow ourselves to feel, to be fully alive. And, in being fully alive, we have so much more experience and depth to the emtional intensity that follows. It makes your heart feel like bursting so very often, but the joy is just as deep and intense. Sometimes I feel as though I might drown in my own heart, covered over by the depth of all that I've learned and experienced since those teenage years.
I was aware, sitting there on the beach, that Vespera and Novio were in the midst of one of those deeply emotional moments. Novio comes from the ocean, and surfing was his hobby. Since moving to Minnesota he has not visited a body of water so vast that you cannot see the other side. The water and waves of Lake Superior were both the wound and the balm at the same time. So poignant. So bittersweet. The waves washed up old memories, even while we were there creating new ones.
I asked if the Lake made him homesick. His answer was heavy but quick and direct, "Yes, but Vespera is here, and I want to be with her." And they curled into each other, one wave inside another.
I honor the depth and breadth and truth of the emotions that my child and her Novio held out there in the wind that evening, while also acknowledging that the strength and depth of my own emotions go deeper...just because I've lived longer and known more, because I know them AND I know me. The wild ride of learning that we have intense and passionate emotional selves that begins in the teen years is really only the beginning. I can keep a cap on it better now if I want to, but when I sit in that quiet created by the rushing wind and crashing waves and allow myself to feel, I know that I draw from a well that is deeper now than it used to be. And I am so glad. I feel as though so many people around me have forgotten how to really just be connected to the waters of passion and intensity, of life and vitality. And the lack of connection limits our ability to love, to know joy, to be loved.
I do wonder how this relates to our ability to know God and be loved by God. God is such a powerful, intense, and vast Being. We connect a little bit to that vastness in those in-between years when we're so full of life and vitality ourselves. So much gets lost in the race to be successful, to care for our families, to do the necessary day-to-day things that we forget. We forget to open our arms wide to the wind and let the waves wash over us. We're filled with inhibitions that come from more experience, from fear. But our possibilities for understanding and knowing that Greatness, that Vastness are so much greater as we gain experience, more life, more depth. It's a conundrum, a paradox. Experience creates our inhibitions, but it also increases our potential for knowing and being loved by God and other human beings.
And this is why I love the wind and the waves. I love the way that the natural world grounds me in my humanness while drawing me into eternity, into a full, wide, expansive relationship with God and with others.
I want to live with the expansiveness of a teenager and with the tiny bits of wisdom I've gained since then. I want to put to use the full range of human life and emotion that God has granted me. I am willing.
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Maybe it's in the Moments
I look out the window at a man who has been struggling with his weight, his love of food taking over and leaving him defeated most days. Today he looks happier, a little lighter. He has been sick and couldn't eat, making weight-loss that much easier. For quite a few days now, his desire for food has paled in comparison to the desire to avoid the pain that comes with eating. So the weight dropped, leaving him to feel like health might be possible. It is only by these days of inevitable consistency and motivated self-discipline, that the outcome that has been so long desired is starting to appear. His weight loss can be chalked up to a mere accident, in the face of no other choice. The ability to be self-disciplined handed on a silver platter. The platter of no other choice.
That's what it takes for me too, I think. Something has to happen that changes everything to get me to follow through as faithfully as is required of me. And even then, my will-power only lasts until I'm comfortable again. Or distracted. Or allowed the opportunity to be even the slightest bit lazy. If given the chance, I fall ever so quickly back into patterns of self-destructive behavior. Or at the very least, the absence of healthy habits.
One way I do this is with my "quiet time," as we good Christians like to call it. For a month at a time I can rise in the morning and spend some time with my God, feeding my spirit with His words and learning more about Him. And then the month passes, a new routine appears and I cave. I give in to the stress of life, the desire to sleep, or a generally distracted nature.
Sometimes I ask and ask, wanting God to give me a quick fix. A fix to a situation, or a part of me I'm tired of battling. But just as a diet plan is slow and arduous, so is faithfulness. We attempt and fail many times, making small strides and falling back. Lately I've been wondering if that's because we think in endings. The final weight goal, total freedom from addiction, a life where we live as we desire everyday without fail, or a perfect walk with God. Maybe it would be better if we stopped thinking that way. It seems too simple to say we need to start thinking in moments rather than in endings, but it may be true.
Maybe "living in the will of God" looks more like taking tiny steps with Him, thoughtfully considering what He would want in a particular moment, rather than believing there are only big choices on the road to His purposes.
It's maybe not about that one big decision, a job, a new baby, or a big move. It's maybe in the way we speak to the annoying co-worker that everyone else ignores. Or in the way we extend a hand-full of change to the homeless man holding his sign on the corner. Or it's in the way we take a deep breath, rather than lashing out at our children our spouses. Or in the moments where we stop and let another's hurt pierce our hearts, compelling us to act on their behalf. Or it's in the small ways we are called to action; to live, to feel, to hurt, to love, and to extend grace freely to the world around us.
In small moments we can stop and choose what God would want for us and His world around us. So maybe it's not about the end goal weight, but about the simple choice to choose fruit over a danish, just one morning at a time. And maybe it's about choosing to take a walk over having another glass of wine. Or it's about choosing to get up and sit at the throne of God, asking for wisdom and grace, just for today. I can do it, just for today. No need to think of whether or not I can do it tomorrow. Just for today.
Maybe as we choose the heart of God in these small moments, we live our way into the big and glorious calling for our lives.
That's what it takes for me too, I think. Something has to happen that changes everything to get me to follow through as faithfully as is required of me. And even then, my will-power only lasts until I'm comfortable again. Or distracted. Or allowed the opportunity to be even the slightest bit lazy. If given the chance, I fall ever so quickly back into patterns of self-destructive behavior. Or at the very least, the absence of healthy habits.
One way I do this is with my "quiet time," as we good Christians like to call it. For a month at a time I can rise in the morning and spend some time with my God, feeding my spirit with His words and learning more about Him. And then the month passes, a new routine appears and I cave. I give in to the stress of life, the desire to sleep, or a generally distracted nature.
Sometimes I ask and ask, wanting God to give me a quick fix. A fix to a situation, or a part of me I'm tired of battling. But just as a diet plan is slow and arduous, so is faithfulness. We attempt and fail many times, making small strides and falling back. Lately I've been wondering if that's because we think in endings. The final weight goal, total freedom from addiction, a life where we live as we desire everyday without fail, or a perfect walk with God. Maybe it would be better if we stopped thinking that way. It seems too simple to say we need to start thinking in moments rather than in endings, but it may be true.
Maybe "living in the will of God" looks more like taking tiny steps with Him, thoughtfully considering what He would want in a particular moment, rather than believing there are only big choices on the road to His purposes.
It's maybe not about that one big decision, a job, a new baby, or a big move. It's maybe in the way we speak to the annoying co-worker that everyone else ignores. Or in the way we extend a hand-full of change to the homeless man holding his sign on the corner. Or it's in the way we take a deep breath, rather than lashing out at our children our spouses. Or in the moments where we stop and let another's hurt pierce our hearts, compelling us to act on their behalf. Or it's in the small ways we are called to action; to live, to feel, to hurt, to love, and to extend grace freely to the world around us.
In small moments we can stop and choose what God would want for us and His world around us. So maybe it's not about the end goal weight, but about the simple choice to choose fruit over a danish, just one morning at a time. And maybe it's about choosing to take a walk over having another glass of wine. Or it's about choosing to get up and sit at the throne of God, asking for wisdom and grace, just for today. I can do it, just for today. No need to think of whether or not I can do it tomorrow. Just for today.
Maybe as we choose the heart of God in these small moments, we live our way into the big and glorious calling for our lives.
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
The Easy Path vs. The Difficult Path
There are a number of things I know about God in my head that still don't seem to get all the way through to my heart all the time. Much of the time, I think I've got a pretty good handle on who God is (dangerous, I know), and it even seems like I can feel it for the most part. But, then these moments come along when I realize that there's something I'm missing. I'm in the middle of one of those moments right now (or maybe it's more than a moment...more like days or weeks).
I can't get into too much detail, but there are some very concerning things regarding my daughter, Vespera's, immigration process looming on the horizon. It'll be another 9 months, most likely, before the whole thing is ironed out, and, in the meantime, I get to practice deep breathing and anti-anxiety techniques. This isn't my point, though. My point is that I always get this niggling feeling with regard to huge things like this that they aren't going to happen the easy way, that I can't even ask for them to happen the easy way because God doesn't give us the easy way. This is such a jumble for me. I believe, honestly, both in my head and my heart, that God isn't about taking the easy road. Really. That should come as no surprise to anyone who knows God. This isn't about smooth sailing and sunny skies. And, yet, I believe that God deeply and truly loves us and doesn't *wish* the more difficult path upon us. Really, in my head I know this. God isn't trying to make life difficult. God doesn't give us the hard road just because it's hard. And God isn't trying to make a point. God gives us the *best* road, which is often difficult anyway.
I'm really not saying this very well, but here's where I get hung up. My mom is praying for all of Vespera's immigration stuff to fly through with no trouble and in the quickest possible manner so that it doesn't require some additional travel, time missed from school, time of separation for our family, etc, etc... I am convinced that it won't be that easy. I mean, I hope that it might be that easy, but I don't even dare to ask God for it because I don't really believe that it's going to happen that way. I believe that it's going to happen the hard way, that there's going to be some bitter-sweetness, some heartache, some headaches and negotiations.
Why do I believe that?
That's my question. Why do I believe that God won't answer the prayer for calm waters, for sunny skies, for smooth sailing? I even cried about it the other night and begged for God's mercy. "Have mercy on my, Oh God, according to your unfailing love." I beg for compassion, for leniency. My head knows that God can move mountains, that, according to scripture, our faith can move mountains. And I think that I even believe this in my heart....that God can do that, I mean. But my heart doesn't believe that God will do that.
I also believe in my heart that we don't know the best way, and that God leads us in the best way, though it isn't always the easiest way. I have trouble letting go of the idea that it isn't always the most difficult way, either, though.
My good friend in Montana says that she's recently been connecting with God's sense of humor and God's desire to give us wonderful gifts and surprises. I found myself wondering what that feels like. I've been connected with that part of God at other times in my life but not recently, and I don't know how it even relates to my life right now.
I feel so schizophrenic about God. Sometimes I get it, and sometimes I really don't.
I can't get into too much detail, but there are some very concerning things regarding my daughter, Vespera's, immigration process looming on the horizon. It'll be another 9 months, most likely, before the whole thing is ironed out, and, in the meantime, I get to practice deep breathing and anti-anxiety techniques. This isn't my point, though. My point is that I always get this niggling feeling with regard to huge things like this that they aren't going to happen the easy way, that I can't even ask for them to happen the easy way because God doesn't give us the easy way. This is such a jumble for me. I believe, honestly, both in my head and my heart, that God isn't about taking the easy road. Really. That should come as no surprise to anyone who knows God. This isn't about smooth sailing and sunny skies. And, yet, I believe that God deeply and truly loves us and doesn't *wish* the more difficult path upon us. Really, in my head I know this. God isn't trying to make life difficult. God doesn't give us the hard road just because it's hard. And God isn't trying to make a point. God gives us the *best* road, which is often difficult anyway.
I'm really not saying this very well, but here's where I get hung up. My mom is praying for all of Vespera's immigration stuff to fly through with no trouble and in the quickest possible manner so that it doesn't require some additional travel, time missed from school, time of separation for our family, etc, etc... I am convinced that it won't be that easy. I mean, I hope that it might be that easy, but I don't even dare to ask God for it because I don't really believe that it's going to happen that way. I believe that it's going to happen the hard way, that there's going to be some bitter-sweetness, some heartache, some headaches and negotiations.
Why do I believe that?
That's my question. Why do I believe that God won't answer the prayer for calm waters, for sunny skies, for smooth sailing? I even cried about it the other night and begged for God's mercy. "Have mercy on my, Oh God, according to your unfailing love." I beg for compassion, for leniency. My head knows that God can move mountains, that, according to scripture, our faith can move mountains. And I think that I even believe this in my heart....that God can do that, I mean. But my heart doesn't believe that God will do that.
I also believe in my heart that we don't know the best way, and that God leads us in the best way, though it isn't always the easiest way. I have trouble letting go of the idea that it isn't always the most difficult way, either, though.
My good friend in Montana says that she's recently been connecting with God's sense of humor and God's desire to give us wonderful gifts and surprises. I found myself wondering what that feels like. I've been connected with that part of God at other times in my life but not recently, and I don't know how it even relates to my life right now.
I feel so schizophrenic about God. Sometimes I get it, and sometimes I really don't.
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Small Hopes
I was sitting, thinking about my life... having one of those "is this all there is to life" moments. When it struck me, I completely have made God small. Or basically, I am lacking the faith to believe that God can still do big things. Lately, my prayers have become small, my hopes have become small, my faith has become really small. I think i used to believe that God could do anything. Then somewhere along the way, I have become one acquainted with disappointment. When the things you have hoped for, for so long never seem to come to fruition, you start wondering if they ever will. So your hopes become small and your faith just shrinks. I really want to believe that God can still move mountains, that He can do big things in my life. But i have been so disappointed in the past, I just have stopped asking for God to do anything.
This morning, I was struck by how futile that thinking is. Of course God can still do BIG things, he is the God who parted the Red Sea, collapsed a wall just by having people walk around it and yell really loudly. He is also a God who can send his son to the earth, to die for our sins and then raise him back to life. These aren't small feats.. these are big feats done by a great big God. Of course i am foolish and forget all the big things he already has done in my life. My memory often fails me, until i am reminded of all the times that God has moved mountains in my life, broken down walls and brought me back to life. I forget so easily. But I have become complacent with just settling for small. If you don't get your hopes up for anything big, then you will never be disappointed if it doesn't happen. But then i guess I'm missing out on the longing and expectation and faith that accompanies hope. I read this quote recently, "The Grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for." ~Allan K. Chalmers
So my goal this week is to believe, to pray and to hope for something big from God. I don't expect it to happen immediately, but I just want to for one week, put aside my small faith and have BIG faith for a little while.
I really love the verse Proverbs 13:12, Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.
Most of the time my heart is a bit sick, but i think its time i start holding out for my tree of life.
This morning, I was struck by how futile that thinking is. Of course God can still do BIG things, he is the God who parted the Red Sea, collapsed a wall just by having people walk around it and yell really loudly. He is also a God who can send his son to the earth, to die for our sins and then raise him back to life. These aren't small feats.. these are big feats done by a great big God. Of course i am foolish and forget all the big things he already has done in my life. My memory often fails me, until i am reminded of all the times that God has moved mountains in my life, broken down walls and brought me back to life. I forget so easily. But I have become complacent with just settling for small. If you don't get your hopes up for anything big, then you will never be disappointed if it doesn't happen. But then i guess I'm missing out on the longing and expectation and faith that accompanies hope. I read this quote recently, "The Grand essentials of happiness are: something to do, something to love, and something to hope for." ~Allan K. Chalmers
So my goal this week is to believe, to pray and to hope for something big from God. I don't expect it to happen immediately, but I just want to for one week, put aside my small faith and have BIG faith for a little while.
I really love the verse Proverbs 13:12, Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.
Most of the time my heart is a bit sick, but i think its time i start holding out for my tree of life.
Monday, July 14, 2008
I Want to be One of Them
While looking back over the posts I've written here, I was struck with this thought,
"What a bunch of silliness. If only I could keep the big picture in mind."
I had a conversation with a friend today about the inevitable questions that arise when we look at evil in the world. "Where is God and why is He allowing all of this?"
In the dark times of my past, I did have to wonder a bit on the reality of God. Where is He? Why isn't He helping? Why can't I see Him working? Why am I not convinced of His love? The answers were few and far between, but they came. I still struggle with a lot of questions, but I've been realizing something that is a challenge to me. That is, had I seen the love of God exemplified in the lives of people who claimed to know and believe in Him, I may have believed more fully in Him and myself. If people would have taken time for me and loved me unconditionally, I'm sure I would have found that contagious, maybe even tangible proof that God still had room for me, just as his people did. Instead I experienced people basically walking away, confused as to how my life could be such a mess, leaving me to believe that must be how God felt about me too.
I am in no way saying that the mistakes I made can be blamed on other people. I just wonder how different things would have been if I didn't feel that people's disregard for me meant I was not valuable. Because what ended up happening was that I lived out what I thought I was worth. And I thought I wasn't worth anyone's time, patience or understanding.
There is a messed up, crazy world out there that appears to have been abandoned. But I wonder, are we abandoned by God at all? Or have we simply abandoned each other, leaving most people feeling so unloved, that they lose faith in a loving God? As Gary Haugen of International Justice Mission says, "it's not a matter of asking where God is, but rather, where are God's people?"
I feel challenged by these thoughts because I forget to do selfless and loving things for someone else. Even just something small, keeping a hurting person or place in mind and doing something to help them see that someone remembers them, and considers them valuable. I get wrapped up in my own life and I simply don't take time to do what matters most.
"...the one thing, on which we can all agree, among all faiths and ideologies, is that God is with the vulnerable and the poor...God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house...God is in the debris of wasted opportunities and lives, and God is with us if we are with them." -- Bono
We may see the reality of God more clearly if we would rise to the challenge of fighting for justice in our messed up world, exemplifying God's true nature. To love even the most frustrating of people. What if we did that? If we let someone who feels lost into our lives and hearts, loving them fully? What if we didn't expect someone to change overnight and put aside all their old habits and ways? What if we simply loved them, and taught them about God's unfailing love for them? I wonder if all the baggage they carry would fall away in the face of a radical acceptance they never knew could exist.
If we could do that, I have doubts that we would need to ask the questions we struggle with. We would be seeing God in action through His people, unable to say that He has abandoned us. In reality, more than likely, we would probaby have to admit that we had abandoned each other.
There are a lot of people who live out exactly what I'm talking about. I simply want to be more like them. I simly wish there were more people like them. They are true saints. That word can be used so flippantly, but the word brings to mind the idea of someone fighting to love people, disregarding themselves and focusing on the needs of others.
Sara Groves says it for me, "...and when the saints go marching in. I want to be one of them."
I'll keep working on it.
"What a bunch of silliness. If only I could keep the big picture in mind."
I had a conversation with a friend today about the inevitable questions that arise when we look at evil in the world. "Where is God and why is He allowing all of this?"
In the dark times of my past, I did have to wonder a bit on the reality of God. Where is He? Why isn't He helping? Why can't I see Him working? Why am I not convinced of His love? The answers were few and far between, but they came. I still struggle with a lot of questions, but I've been realizing something that is a challenge to me. That is, had I seen the love of God exemplified in the lives of people who claimed to know and believe in Him, I may have believed more fully in Him and myself. If people would have taken time for me and loved me unconditionally, I'm sure I would have found that contagious, maybe even tangible proof that God still had room for me, just as his people did. Instead I experienced people basically walking away, confused as to how my life could be such a mess, leaving me to believe that must be how God felt about me too.
I am in no way saying that the mistakes I made can be blamed on other people. I just wonder how different things would have been if I didn't feel that people's disregard for me meant I was not valuable. Because what ended up happening was that I lived out what I thought I was worth. And I thought I wasn't worth anyone's time, patience or understanding.
There is a messed up, crazy world out there that appears to have been abandoned. But I wonder, are we abandoned by God at all? Or have we simply abandoned each other, leaving most people feeling so unloved, that they lose faith in a loving God? As Gary Haugen of International Justice Mission says, "it's not a matter of asking where God is, but rather, where are God's people?"
I feel challenged by these thoughts because I forget to do selfless and loving things for someone else. Even just something small, keeping a hurting person or place in mind and doing something to help them see that someone remembers them, and considers them valuable. I get wrapped up in my own life and I simply don't take time to do what matters most.
"...the one thing, on which we can all agree, among all faiths and ideologies, is that God is with the vulnerable and the poor...God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house...God is in the debris of wasted opportunities and lives, and God is with us if we are with them." -- Bono
We may see the reality of God more clearly if we would rise to the challenge of fighting for justice in our messed up world, exemplifying God's true nature. To love even the most frustrating of people. What if we did that? If we let someone who feels lost into our lives and hearts, loving them fully? What if we didn't expect someone to change overnight and put aside all their old habits and ways? What if we simply loved them, and taught them about God's unfailing love for them? I wonder if all the baggage they carry would fall away in the face of a radical acceptance they never knew could exist.
If we could do that, I have doubts that we would need to ask the questions we struggle with. We would be seeing God in action through His people, unable to say that He has abandoned us. In reality, more than likely, we would probaby have to admit that we had abandoned each other.
There are a lot of people who live out exactly what I'm talking about. I simply want to be more like them. I simly wish there were more people like them. They are true saints. That word can be used so flippantly, but the word brings to mind the idea of someone fighting to love people, disregarding themselves and focusing on the needs of others.
Sara Groves says it for me, "...and when the saints go marching in. I want to be one of them."
I'll keep working on it.
Saturday, July 12, 2008
Plan B
“And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to his purpose.” Romans 8:28 New American Standard Version (a most literal, though difficult to read translation)
I’m going to begin by quoting myself from my other blog. On May 9th I wrote:
“I believe in free will, which means that I believe that people have the ability to mess with God's plan. Sort of. Mango & I both believe that he was supposed to be at his current teaching position for at least one more year. We have been saying since Vespera came to us that he would stay until she graduated for sure, and then he'd reassess his career plans. He knew that he wasn't going to be in the same position forever, that there was some possibility that the school would be closing...or shrinking. Well, the school shrunk a year too soon, and he was "excessed," meaning that he still has a job in the district but not at his school, Vespera's school. The smaller size of the school has a lot to do with mismanagement, ridiculous policies...in short, fallen people living imperfect lives. Since I don't believe that God wills the bad things in the world to happen, I have to believe that people choose these things of their own free will. If people choose things of their own free will, they do things outside of God's ideal for them.”
“…having said all that, I think we're in front row seats this year seeing how the plan we really felt we were following has been messed with by people outside the plan. And now we're waiting to see what GOOD God will bring of this. Because we also believe that God works all things together for the good of those who love God and have been called according to God's purposes.”
That’s what I wrote May 9th. Since then, Mango was re-hired at the same school for next year. It’s interesting that we made a whole bunch of other “plans,” thinking he would have to work somewhere else next year, but each one of those plans was thwarted. Then the call came that he’d be right back in the same school, just as we had firmly believed was God’s plan to begin with. God sure knows how to lead when we’re stumbling along.
I have a number of similar stories I could tell. It seems that we (and God with us) are often operating out of “Plan B,” something different from the original, ideal plan. For example, I don’t really believe that adoption is part of God’s perfect or ideal plan because I don’t believe that God predestines children to be abandoned, orphaned, abused, neglected, or left in hopeless situations with little possibility for future success. I really cannot reconcile those things with a God who is self-described as “love.” If God is love, then God doesn’t predestine these things. But I do believe that since the ideal doesn’t always happen, God can orchestrate a second plan, a Plan B. This is why our family adopted Vespera, and she is a beautiful part of our lives. Because we choose to love and follow God, God can use us to bring about something good and beautiful, even if it wasn’t the original plan. In fact, the way that our family has connected, the way that little pieces of Vespera’s life fit so perfectly into our lives, the way that her interests and experiences match ours, and the way our previous lives fit like puzzle pieces into the gaps in her life makes it seem as though this was all part of God’s plan to begin with. I don’t think that, though. I think only that since things didn’t work out for Vespera’s family of origin, God took us, two people who were willing to follow a calling and matched us with her. And the whole thing has benefited us every bit as much as it has her. It’s so perfect, but yet not perfect.
Let me give another personal example. I think it’s totally outside God’s plan or God’s will that I experienced sexual abuse as a child. If I had to believe that God willed these things, I’d have to walk away from God right now. Since my experience was so far from God’s perfect plan, though, I honestly believe that God guided me to Mango…someone who had heard enough stories and witnessed enough of the pain and trouble in the world that he could help me heal and bring “good” from absolute evil. I believe that since we both had experiences outside of God’s “will,” God brought us together to find healing, and to, in fact, create something beautiful – a relationship that mirrors God’s tremendous love for people and a family that has the depth and strength to love people and serve others in ways we’d never have dreamed. God can take the broken pieces of our lives and create something good if we are willing.
Of course, this also means that we, as God’s people, have more responsibility than I want to contemplate. The idea that I, myself, can screw up God’s perfect plan is enough to make me want to lock myself in a closet for the rest of my life. But then I REALLY wouldn’t be following God’s plan. So, I muddle through. My only hope is in God’s grace. When I deviate from the plan, God’s grace is sufficient. God’s love is eternal, unconditional. This is what keeps me out of the closet. God can work with the messes I make if I keep my heart open and willing to follow. I really, honestly believe that what God cares about is our hearts. God is always able to intervene in the lives of people when those people are willing to follow…whenever we’re willing to follow. I think that this is what interests God the most – not the particular things that we called to do, but the fact that we do them. God is interested in our love and our willingness to follow the calling.
In answer to your own questions Heather, all I know is that it’s totally possible for God to use the experiences you’ve had in between that chapel time in college (I never particularly enjoyed chapel, either) and this moment right now to make something so “good” that it doesn't matter if it's Plan A, B, C or D. Yes, I believe people can mess with God’s plan. But I also believe that, if we’re willing, God can guide us into the “good” that is promised for those who love God and are called by God. God can turn ALL THINGS to good. I don’t even believe that God brings us along some arduous and difficult path just because we didn’t follow the first time. I believe that God really, really loves us and wants desperately for us to experience that love. God is ready to use us whenever we’re willing. Maybe your calling is different now. That isn’t what matters. What matters is your willingness to follow.
I have a whole lot more I could say, but this is all I have time to type out at the moment. I talked this all through with Mango, and he’s got some great analogies and ideas I might try to type out in the next few days.
I’m going to begin by quoting myself from my other blog. On May 9th I wrote:
“I believe in free will, which means that I believe that people have the ability to mess with God's plan. Sort of. Mango & I both believe that he was supposed to be at his current teaching position for at least one more year. We have been saying since Vespera came to us that he would stay until she graduated for sure, and then he'd reassess his career plans. He knew that he wasn't going to be in the same position forever, that there was some possibility that the school would be closing...or shrinking. Well, the school shrunk a year too soon, and he was "excessed," meaning that he still has a job in the district but not at his school, Vespera's school. The smaller size of the school has a lot to do with mismanagement, ridiculous policies...in short, fallen people living imperfect lives. Since I don't believe that God wills the bad things in the world to happen, I have to believe that people choose these things of their own free will. If people choose things of their own free will, they do things outside of God's ideal for them.”
“…having said all that, I think we're in front row seats this year seeing how the plan we really felt we were following has been messed with by people outside the plan. And now we're waiting to see what GOOD God will bring of this. Because we also believe that God works all things together for the good of those who love God and have been called according to God's purposes.”
That’s what I wrote May 9th. Since then, Mango was re-hired at the same school for next year. It’s interesting that we made a whole bunch of other “plans,” thinking he would have to work somewhere else next year, but each one of those plans was thwarted. Then the call came that he’d be right back in the same school, just as we had firmly believed was God’s plan to begin with. God sure knows how to lead when we’re stumbling along.
I have a number of similar stories I could tell. It seems that we (and God with us) are often operating out of “Plan B,” something different from the original, ideal plan. For example, I don’t really believe that adoption is part of God’s perfect or ideal plan because I don’t believe that God predestines children to be abandoned, orphaned, abused, neglected, or left in hopeless situations with little possibility for future success. I really cannot reconcile those things with a God who is self-described as “love.” If God is love, then God doesn’t predestine these things. But I do believe that since the ideal doesn’t always happen, God can orchestrate a second plan, a Plan B. This is why our family adopted Vespera, and she is a beautiful part of our lives. Because we choose to love and follow God, God can use us to bring about something good and beautiful, even if it wasn’t the original plan. In fact, the way that our family has connected, the way that little pieces of Vespera’s life fit so perfectly into our lives, the way that her interests and experiences match ours, and the way our previous lives fit like puzzle pieces into the gaps in her life makes it seem as though this was all part of God’s plan to begin with. I don’t think that, though. I think only that since things didn’t work out for Vespera’s family of origin, God took us, two people who were willing to follow a calling and matched us with her. And the whole thing has benefited us every bit as much as it has her. It’s so perfect, but yet not perfect.
Let me give another personal example. I think it’s totally outside God’s plan or God’s will that I experienced sexual abuse as a child. If I had to believe that God willed these things, I’d have to walk away from God right now. Since my experience was so far from God’s perfect plan, though, I honestly believe that God guided me to Mango…someone who had heard enough stories and witnessed enough of the pain and trouble in the world that he could help me heal and bring “good” from absolute evil. I believe that since we both had experiences outside of God’s “will,” God brought us together to find healing, and to, in fact, create something beautiful – a relationship that mirrors God’s tremendous love for people and a family that has the depth and strength to love people and serve others in ways we’d never have dreamed. God can take the broken pieces of our lives and create something good if we are willing.
Of course, this also means that we, as God’s people, have more responsibility than I want to contemplate. The idea that I, myself, can screw up God’s perfect plan is enough to make me want to lock myself in a closet for the rest of my life. But then I REALLY wouldn’t be following God’s plan. So, I muddle through. My only hope is in God’s grace. When I deviate from the plan, God’s grace is sufficient. God’s love is eternal, unconditional. This is what keeps me out of the closet. God can work with the messes I make if I keep my heart open and willing to follow. I really, honestly believe that what God cares about is our hearts. God is always able to intervene in the lives of people when those people are willing to follow…whenever we’re willing to follow. I think that this is what interests God the most – not the particular things that we called to do, but the fact that we do them. God is interested in our love and our willingness to follow the calling.
In answer to your own questions Heather, all I know is that it’s totally possible for God to use the experiences you’ve had in between that chapel time in college (I never particularly enjoyed chapel, either) and this moment right now to make something so “good” that it doesn't matter if it's Plan A, B, C or D. Yes, I believe people can mess with God’s plan. But I also believe that, if we’re willing, God can guide us into the “good” that is promised for those who love God and are called by God. God can turn ALL THINGS to good. I don’t even believe that God brings us along some arduous and difficult path just because we didn’t follow the first time. I believe that God really, really loves us and wants desperately for us to experience that love. God is ready to use us whenever we’re willing. Maybe your calling is different now. That isn’t what matters. What matters is your willingness to follow.
I have a whole lot more I could say, but this is all I have time to type out at the moment. I talked this all through with Mango, and he’s got some great analogies and ideas I might try to type out in the next few days.
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