Tonight, I did what mothers do. I rocked my sick boy, Jack, to sleep. As I always do in these times, I wondered how many times in the four years of institutional living he was sick, and no one was there to comfort him? No one was there to make the calming shhhh-ing noise that all mothers instinctively make when their babies are in need of consoling. No one was there to pat his back, to soothe him with the rhythmic back and force rocking of the innate motion given to mothers, to sit with him, cheek to cheek, or to whisper a prayer over him for peace, healing, and a God-filled future. The thoughts made me sad, but I'm learning to be okay with that.
When we reach into the unknown, we can never return to ignorance. Abstract ideas are no longer just that---ideas. Our presupposed thoughts and emotions on a subject disappear under the concrete realness of an experience. I'm learning that it is the experience that grows the God character within me. I can't ignore the plight of the orphan or the pain of a parent's grief. These are my experiences. There's no guess work involved in the reality of these experiences. There's no room for a buffer or chosen indifference. It's an impossibility for me to close my eyes to these overwhelmingly difficult circumstances. The sadness comes---along with compassion, love, empathy, and the desire to avoid idleness in the Kingdom. The experience becomes fuel for a purposeful life driven by the power of Christ within me.
Why, then, has it been decided that pain should be avoided--that we somehow have the right to a perfectly blissful existence? Whether chosen sadness or God-ordained unexpected sadness, why do we do all that is within us to squash it down inside of ourselves, numb it, run from it? Children are ripped from their mother's womb all for the sake of self-preservation--we've avoided the pain. We vilify the one who did the ripping--His people have avoided the pain. We turn a blind eye to the sick, the mentally-ill, the orphan, the widow, the poor, the spiritually impoverished---we've avoided the pain. In avoiding the pain, we've avoided the blessing. We have destroyed our ability to grow in knowledge---to turn the abstract into the concrete. Thus, we have destroyed our ability to become as our Father. With that, we have destroyed ourselves.
May we learn to embrace pain just as we embrace joy. God help us that we are ungrateful for the darkness that shadows our lives! May we be content in the knowledge that we are no longer ignorant to the suffering of others, and that just as our Father controls the intricate details of the universe, every emotion was created by Him and is under His foot. Just as every piece of His handy work calls out His name, so the pain that weaves itself into the masterpiece of our lives will point back to the Master Designer.
Theemommy
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Thursday, July 24, 2014
Finding the Son
It was a few months ago that I realized my son, Jack, had never seen the sun rise. I suspect he didn't even know that's how it works, the sun rising and falling.
He's six now, adopted two years ago from an orphanage in Thailand. The moon and stars were his first heavenly discovery. Only a few months after coming home, he pointed into the night sky. It was then that I understood that he had never been outside during the time when the sun disappears and the moon makes its appearance. Jack was given the gift of the moon and stars when he was four years old.
The sun rise was his second discovery. In mid June, we had a trip to make to a city a few hours away. It was the early hours of the morning as we loaded up into the car. The sun was still down. As we drove, the sun began to rise up over the trees.
"Mommy! It the day time?" Jack was starting to realize that sometime between leaving our home and arriving at our destination, this wonderful transition was taking place. "LOOK, MOMMY! It the sun!"
"Do you see it, Jack? The sun's coming up over the trees. That's what the sun does every morning. It gets higher and higher in the sky."
The only problem was, as we would travel and our car would change directions, the sun would disappear behind the trees. Frustrated Jack growled from the back seat, "The sun hiding!"
"No, Jack. The sun doesn't hide. Our car is changing directions. Changing directions makes it look like the sun is hiding, but the sun never moves."
Need I say more?
The Son never moves. He is unchanging and constant, just as the sunrise. He is fixated within the Universe, and yet, His presence moves beyond eternity and spreads out into our lives. There is no where, nor no one, that is beyond His reach.
We do not have to see Him to feel His light or to experience His warmth. As we travel, there are tragic storms, blindness by sin, clouds of depression, tunnels of anxiety--the kind of tunnels that are so long that we can't see the light until we have stepped into the darkness to begin our journey--, and unforeseen obstacles. All can cause the unfortunate dilemma of losing sight of the Son. But still, His effects do not waiver.
Jesus spoke these words to John the Revelator, I am the First and the Last. I am the Living One; I was dead, and behold I am alive for ever and ever! And I hold the keys of death and Hell.
Tuesday, July 22, 2014
Lessons in Disappointment: Honestly Overcoming Disappointment
Expectation can be a tricky thing. It can lead us to success. Maybe, it's the idea of a self-fulfilling prophecy. We think it. We believe it. We expect higher results, and we get them---most of the time. Then, there are the other times, the times when our expectations are not met. We trip. We fall. We fail. Unmet expectations can lead to disappointment. Disappointment can challenge our faith. It can challenge our ability to make decisions. It can challenge our self-worth. It can challenge our purpose for existing---the reason we were put here to do this thing called life. How do we overcome disappointment? Better yet, how do we toss it to the side of the road and continue strong in our faith walk?
Be Honest
No one has ever overcome disappointment by hiding it or trying to manage it away. Certainly, no one has ever received healing and freedom from disappointments by ignoring it and stuffing the problem. I am the worst about this. Here are a few lies that I continue to stumble over when it comes to overcoming my disappointment.
- Others won't care about my disappointments. Not sharing our disappointments can be a dangerous thing. When we carry disappointment around within us, it becomes cancerous. Others want to hear about our hurts, but if we allow the disappointment to chisel away at our hearts and we become mean and nasty, the people we love the most may decide that they don't want to help at all. They may choose to love us from a distance.
- I will pull others down with my problems. I don't want to hurt the ones I love; therefore, I choose to hide my pain. Just the opposite! When we don't share our disappointments, we are robbing someone of a blessing. Sharing our disappointments grows not only your faith but others faith, too. When we share our wounds, we are blessed. The person who cares for us is blessed, and the Kingdom is advanced.
- I can handle my disappointment on my own. Ewww...That pride gets us every time! We cannot handle disappointment alone. Christ knows this. It is why He ordained the institutions of family and church. We are too weak to handle life alone. Leaning on those around us is okay. It the way it's supposed to work.
- I will be judged for my disappointments. Maybe...but more often times than not, when I share my disappointments with someone who has earned the right to know my hurts, those whom I have done life with and have proven to be trustworthy and constant, I'm pleasantly surprised to find that they are not nearly as shocked as I would have expected. Of course, sharing intimate details of our lives should be done wisely, but everyone should have one or two trusted friends, who have stuck it out with them through the years, that they can unload on from time to time, especially when the going gets tough.
I believe that Thomas the Disciple got this one right. No one is going to applaud him for his lack of faith, but he does deserve a round of applause for his honesty. The poor guy's gotten beaten up over the years for just saying what everyone of Jesus' followers had thought at some point and time between Christ's death and resurrection. John 20:25 ..... But he (Thomas) said to them, "Unless I see in His hands the imprint of the nails, and put my finger into the place of the nails, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe."
It's easy to get caught up in the negativity of Thomas' unbelief and to miss a valuable lesson that is taught when we read about the interaction between Thomas and Jesus just a few short verses later. How did Jesus respond to Thomas' brutal honesty? John 20:27 Then He (Jesus) said to Thomas, Reach here with your finger, and see My hands; and reach here your hand and put it into My side; and do not be unbelieving, but believing." Jesus HEARD him! He came to Thomas. He met the need that Thomas needed to have met in order for Thomas to believe. Jesus loved Thomas! He loves us!
When we are honest about our disappointments, it opens the door for Christ to work through Believers to heal our wounds. But better yet, more than anything else that anyone could do for us, Christ comes to us and whispers, " Here are my scars. I died for you. I love you. Rest and believe. "
Be honest, my friend. It works.
Sunday, July 13, 2014
Lessons in Disappointment: The Effects of Disappointment
At the very heart of disappointment is misunderstanding. What we believe is going to happen in a situation based on intuition, interpretation of circumstances, teaching, life experience, or a vast array of other reasons does not happen. We base our judgement of situations upon temporary platforms and forget to look beyond our misaligned outcome to the eternal view of the situation. When we lose perspective and start to believe that the temporal is the end of the road, disappointment creeps into our lives.
It happens to the best of us. It happened to Jesus' close inner circle following the days of the crucifixion. They interpreted Jesus' teachings from a worldly point of view. They did not understand there was something much greater taking place, the redemption of all mankind. They weren't seeing the circumstances through Christ's eyes. Thus, the days leading up to the resurrection were filled with tremendous grief and disappointment.
Disappointment can have hard hitting consequences:
We begin to fear the future. Sometimes, we can subconsciously believe that bad things aren't going to happen to us, at least not the really bad things. After all, we're Christains, right? Although we might not say it out loud, on occasion, we get the idea that if someone has a horrible circumstance in their life it's because they've obviously done something to bring it upon themselves. They should have been more careful, they were living in sin, they should have taken better care of their bodies. Then, one day it happens. From out of left field, devastation tumbles into our lives. It doesn't take us very long to realize that we have very little control over our lives and something else, just as horrible, could happen to us again. The disciples were not an exception. After Christ was crucified, they were camped out in an upper room in Jerusalem. They figured if it could happen to Jesus, it could happen to them. They were terrified of what the future would hold.
We stop reaching for the good things in life. I love science. I love the idea of a Creator who meshes together cycles and patterns that work together with great precision, intricacy, and rhythm. Our God is powerful! Nature calls out to us that our God believes in new beginnings. The Springtime, the birth of a new baby, the sunrise all echo to us that our Heavenly Father never stops giving good things, but sometimes, we choose not to receive them. We stand with clinched fists and fear in our heart, trying to protect self, trying to protect our heart. Matthew 28:8 reads: And they (the women) left the
tomb with fear and great joy and ran to report it to the disciples. I thought it was interesting that both fear and joy coexisted within these women. They had seen angels. That would explain part of the fear, but these ladies were as human as we are human. Even though they had gotten a glimpse of victory, they were afraid. The scripture doesn't give us a picture into the most intimate thoughts of their hearts, but maybe, like us, they weren't sure they could survive another disappointment. So, they
held on to fear and refused to grab on to the good things that were right in front of them.
Words can become empty. Great pain creates a disconnect between the mind and the heart. There is a reason why words become useless when we are hurting, we do not have an intellect problem. Intellectually, we know the Word, we know Biblical principles, we know God's promises. We hear them being said to us, just as did Christ's followers, but they aren't registering. Ever been there? I have. That's because the problem is not with our brain. It's with our heart. It's broken. The heart requires intimacy if it is ever to be mended. Christ knows this. It was in the garden that He spoke Mary Magdelene's name. It was with the two men on the way to Emmaus that He broke bread. It was Thomas' fingers that felt the scars in His hands, and it was only Christ who could bring understanding and revelation of the scriptures to the remaining disciples. Luke 24:45 Then He opened their (disciples) minds to understand the scripture. We can and should be Christ's hands and feet, but at the end of the day, it is He who binds up the wounds of the broken hearted. As we can see from
scripture, Jesus breathed into the life of Mary Magdelene, the Emmaus men, Thomas, and let's not
forget Peter all in a very different way. Only He knows our secret places. Only He knows how to restore us back to life.
We all suffer from the effects of disappointment. They're not new, they're not unusual, and best of all, they're not condemning. Jesus' followers refused to believe He was alive. They wanted to believe the truth, but disappointment and grief had gotten the better of them. It didn't matter! Jesus loved them. He came to them. He ministered to them. Scripture documents ten separate occasions that Christ appeared to His followers between His crucifixion and the ascension. Jesus told the ladies who had found the empty tomb, Tell my disciples and Peter, Peter! The one who denied Him, I will meet them in Galilee. Jesus met each follower in their sin and disbelief and brought hope back into their lives.
My friend, it is an impossibility that He could love us any less than He loved this rough and tumble group of early believers. We may feel the effects of disappointment, but we are not held captive by them nor condemned by them. We serve an intimate Heavenly Father who is in the business of healing our wounds, one hurt at a time, and restoring our hope for an eternal future.
It happens to the best of us. It happened to Jesus' close inner circle following the days of the crucifixion. They interpreted Jesus' teachings from a worldly point of view. They did not understand there was something much greater taking place, the redemption of all mankind. They weren't seeing the circumstances through Christ's eyes. Thus, the days leading up to the resurrection were filled with tremendous grief and disappointment.
Disappointment can have hard hitting consequences:
We begin to fear the future. Sometimes, we can subconsciously believe that bad things aren't going to happen to us, at least not the really bad things. After all, we're Christains, right? Although we might not say it out loud, on occasion, we get the idea that if someone has a horrible circumstance in their life it's because they've obviously done something to bring it upon themselves. They should have been more careful, they were living in sin, they should have taken better care of their bodies. Then, one day it happens. From out of left field, devastation tumbles into our lives. It doesn't take us very long to realize that we have very little control over our lives and something else, just as horrible, could happen to us again. The disciples were not an exception. After Christ was crucified, they were camped out in an upper room in Jerusalem. They figured if it could happen to Jesus, it could happen to them. They were terrified of what the future would hold.
We stop reaching for the good things in life. I love science. I love the idea of a Creator who meshes together cycles and patterns that work together with great precision, intricacy, and rhythm. Our God is powerful! Nature calls out to us that our God believes in new beginnings. The Springtime, the birth of a new baby, the sunrise all echo to us that our Heavenly Father never stops giving good things, but sometimes, we choose not to receive them. We stand with clinched fists and fear in our heart, trying to protect self, trying to protect our heart. Matthew 28:8 reads: And they (the women) left the
tomb with fear and great joy and ran to report it to the disciples. I thought it was interesting that both fear and joy coexisted within these women. They had seen angels. That would explain part of the fear, but these ladies were as human as we are human. Even though they had gotten a glimpse of victory, they were afraid. The scripture doesn't give us a picture into the most intimate thoughts of their hearts, but maybe, like us, they weren't sure they could survive another disappointment. So, they
held on to fear and refused to grab on to the good things that were right in front of them.
Words can become empty. Great pain creates a disconnect between the mind and the heart. There is a reason why words become useless when we are hurting, we do not have an intellect problem. Intellectually, we know the Word, we know Biblical principles, we know God's promises. We hear them being said to us, just as did Christ's followers, but they aren't registering. Ever been there? I have. That's because the problem is not with our brain. It's with our heart. It's broken. The heart requires intimacy if it is ever to be mended. Christ knows this. It was in the garden that He spoke Mary Magdelene's name. It was with the two men on the way to Emmaus that He broke bread. It was Thomas' fingers that felt the scars in His hands, and it was only Christ who could bring understanding and revelation of the scriptures to the remaining disciples. Luke 24:45 Then He opened their (disciples) minds to understand the scripture. We can and should be Christ's hands and feet, but at the end of the day, it is He who binds up the wounds of the broken hearted. As we can see from
scripture, Jesus breathed into the life of Mary Magdelene, the Emmaus men, Thomas, and let's not
forget Peter all in a very different way. Only He knows our secret places. Only He knows how to restore us back to life.
We all suffer from the effects of disappointment. They're not new, they're not unusual, and best of all, they're not condemning. Jesus' followers refused to believe He was alive. They wanted to believe the truth, but disappointment and grief had gotten the better of them. It didn't matter! Jesus loved them. He came to them. He ministered to them. Scripture documents ten separate occasions that Christ appeared to His followers between His crucifixion and the ascension. Jesus told the ladies who had found the empty tomb, Tell my disciples and Peter, Peter! The one who denied Him, I will meet them in Galilee. Jesus met each follower in their sin and disbelief and brought hope back into their lives.
My friend, it is an impossibility that He could love us any less than He loved this rough and tumble group of early believers. We may feel the effects of disappointment, but we are not held captive by them nor condemned by them. We serve an intimate Heavenly Father who is in the business of healing our wounds, one hurt at a time, and restoring our hope for an eternal future.
Friday, July 11, 2014
Lost---Life in a Campground
If we're not careful, our children will teach us a lesson...or two..or more. It all weighs on our ability to pay attention and our tenacity for living in the moment. Too much worry about the future or distraction with the unnecessary can steal a lesson right out from underneath us. I firmly believe all of the static in our lives is a tool from the devil to keep us restless and unhappy. Vacation is one of those times when we can clear our heads and refocus. We can stop and meditate on the things that bring us peace and joy. It's where I learned my lesson this week.
Jack (my son) and I vacationed with my parents this week. We camp with them every year at Myrtle Beach. We decided on Tuesday that the two of us would head to the pool. It's a pretty good trek across the campground so my mom drove us in her car. She promptly left after dropping us off in front of the building that leads to the pool. Little did we know, the pool was closed. There was no pool and no car. We were hoofing it back to our camper.
Jack has only spent two years in the outside world. The first four years of his life were lived between the walls of an orphanage, and of all the rooms in the orphanage, he usually migrated between only two. He doesn't always understand how things work in this new world where people are free to come and go as they please. Let's just say that in his eyes we had been abandoned and were doomed to roam the campground for all eternity.
He took one step out of the pool building. His eyes got as big as saucers, and he said, "Where'd the caw? I think maybe we lost." To which I replied, " You may be lost, but Mommy is not lost. Get my hand. We're walking back to the camper."
I could see that he was clearly not convinced that we were not lost, but reluctantly he followed my lead. It wasn't without some direction, though. What I mean is that everytime he thought we were near our destination he would be sure to tell me exactly where we needed to go. Now, he really had no clue where he was at or where he was going, but he felt as though he needed to help. Jack hasn't learned that he doesn't have to rely on himself anymore. He has a mommy and daddy (and lots of other awesome people) who take care of him.
It was after about the second direction, about the time that I was on the verge of losing it (It was hot, very, very hot, and trying to convince Jack that all was not lost was futile.), that I realized I handle my own insecurities the same way as Jack was handling his insecurities. I mean I'm not in a campground, but I'm doing this thing called life. Sometimes, I have no idea where I'm going or even a frame of reference for where to begin, and I panic.
As many times as I've found my Heavenly Father faithful, I still only reluctantly follow Him. Even after I start on the path and He is leading, I feel as though I somehow need to help. Me, in my finite wisdom, helping the Creator of the Universe. Really? How could I be so insecure and prideful?
The really fantastic part, He gets it. He understands that I am impossibly flesh. He knows I will wrestle with this sin nature until my glorification. He never leaves me stranded, the same way I would never leave Jack's standing alone and terrified in that campground. He gently takes my hand, listens to my fears and complaints, and then reassures me, " You may be lost, but the God of all Creation is never lost."
Jack (my son) and I vacationed with my parents this week. We camp with them every year at Myrtle Beach. We decided on Tuesday that the two of us would head to the pool. It's a pretty good trek across the campground so my mom drove us in her car. She promptly left after dropping us off in front of the building that leads to the pool. Little did we know, the pool was closed. There was no pool and no car. We were hoofing it back to our camper.
Jack has only spent two years in the outside world. The first four years of his life were lived between the walls of an orphanage, and of all the rooms in the orphanage, he usually migrated between only two. He doesn't always understand how things work in this new world where people are free to come and go as they please. Let's just say that in his eyes we had been abandoned and were doomed to roam the campground for all eternity.
He took one step out of the pool building. His eyes got as big as saucers, and he said, "Where'd the caw? I think maybe we lost." To which I replied, " You may be lost, but Mommy is not lost. Get my hand. We're walking back to the camper."
I could see that he was clearly not convinced that we were not lost, but reluctantly he followed my lead. It wasn't without some direction, though. What I mean is that everytime he thought we were near our destination he would be sure to tell me exactly where we needed to go. Now, he really had no clue where he was at or where he was going, but he felt as though he needed to help. Jack hasn't learned that he doesn't have to rely on himself anymore. He has a mommy and daddy (and lots of other awesome people) who take care of him.
It was after about the second direction, about the time that I was on the verge of losing it (It was hot, very, very hot, and trying to convince Jack that all was not lost was futile.), that I realized I handle my own insecurities the same way as Jack was handling his insecurities. I mean I'm not in a campground, but I'm doing this thing called life. Sometimes, I have no idea where I'm going or even a frame of reference for where to begin, and I panic.
As many times as I've found my Heavenly Father faithful, I still only reluctantly follow Him. Even after I start on the path and He is leading, I feel as though I somehow need to help. Me, in my finite wisdom, helping the Creator of the Universe. Really? How could I be so insecure and prideful?
The really fantastic part, He gets it. He understands that I am impossibly flesh. He knows I will wrestle with this sin nature until my glorification. He never leaves me stranded, the same way I would never leave Jack's standing alone and terrified in that campground. He gently takes my hand, listens to my fears and complaints, and then reassures me, " You may be lost, but the God of all Creation is never lost."
Sunday, July 6, 2014
Lessons in Disappointment: Defining Disappointment
Over the past few weeks, I've given a great deal of thought to the idea of disappointment. When I listen to others, when I see devastation around me, and when I examine my own life, I realize that at the heart of many of our hurts is disappointment. Disappointment is not selective. It comes to all of our doors: the person who said they loved us stops saying I love you, the job promotion that we deserved slips through our fingers, our husbands aren't the fathers or leaders that we were sure they would be, we lose a job or all of our investments, our best friend stops calling. We usually don't think too much about disappointment until it becomes personal, but when it's me or you that it happens too, disappointment can become hard to survive.
Then, there are the stand out disappointments that have others looking from a distance saying, Wow. I hope that never happens to me; our children die, sometimes, more than one, we're diagnosed with cancer, our spouse slips away with Alzheimer's. The problem is it's happened to you, and it doesn't seem quite right. It stings and cuts at our souls. We realize it's the disappointment that nearly chokes the life out of us. It's the should have's, the what if's, the it's not fair's. It didn't turn out the way I planned. Why me? My future is forever altered. This is NOT what I signed up for. They were supposed to be here.
The scary part of disappointment is that it creates these very real emotions that are crippling. Those emotions challenge our faith and cloud our thought process. Ever had this thought? If God is good, why did this happen? He could have fixed it. He could have intervened. We all have. Disappointment brings us to that place. If we're not careful we'll be so thrown by our own doubts and emotions that we'll start to implode. We'll shut down, stop looking for answers, stop being real, stop listening for His voice.
I was reading through the last chapters of Luke today, about the crucifixion. Luke 23:49 says, And all His acquaintances and the women who accompanied Him from Galilee were standing at a distance, seeing these things (the crucifixion). The crucifixion was so traumatic to them that they had removed themselves from the situation. Ever been there? It was surreal. Their minds could not process what was happening. They were devastated, incredibly confused, and disappointed.
Why? Because what the people surrounding Jesus thought was going to happen and what actually happened were two very different scenarios. They thought that they understood what Jesus was all about, and they did kind of get it. Their faith was in Him. However, they were seeing everything through an earthly lens. They believed Jesus was going to set up an Earthly kingdom. How could He be their king if He was dead? Jesus said the temple would be destroyed. It was still standing. Talk about being confused and disappointed! Jesus' followers were seeing with physical eyes , not spiritual eyes.
So, what is disappointment? First, it's something that causes deep pain, and on the surface, it is when what we believe will happen ( sometimes, with great faith) and what actually happens do not line up. We believe in a healing, but it doesn't happen. We do all the right things for our struggling child, but we can't turn them around. We are the best wife we know how to be, but our husband still walks out.
When we dig deeper, disappointment is a reaction based on our perceptions. Like the followers at the cross, sometimes what we believe with all of our hearts is not really reality, and in order to overcome disappointment we must change the lens that we are looking through from an earthly perception to a spiritual perception.
Then, there are the stand out disappointments that have others looking from a distance saying, Wow. I hope that never happens to me; our children die, sometimes, more than one, we're diagnosed with cancer, our spouse slips away with Alzheimer's. The problem is it's happened to you, and it doesn't seem quite right. It stings and cuts at our souls. We realize it's the disappointment that nearly chokes the life out of us. It's the should have's, the what if's, the it's not fair's. It didn't turn out the way I planned. Why me? My future is forever altered. This is NOT what I signed up for. They were supposed to be here.
The scary part of disappointment is that it creates these very real emotions that are crippling. Those emotions challenge our faith and cloud our thought process. Ever had this thought? If God is good, why did this happen? He could have fixed it. He could have intervened. We all have. Disappointment brings us to that place. If we're not careful we'll be so thrown by our own doubts and emotions that we'll start to implode. We'll shut down, stop looking for answers, stop being real, stop listening for His voice.
I was reading through the last chapters of Luke today, about the crucifixion. Luke 23:49 says, And all His acquaintances and the women who accompanied Him from Galilee were standing at a distance, seeing these things (the crucifixion). The crucifixion was so traumatic to them that they had removed themselves from the situation. Ever been there? It was surreal. Their minds could not process what was happening. They were devastated, incredibly confused, and disappointed.
Why? Because what the people surrounding Jesus thought was going to happen and what actually happened were two very different scenarios. They thought that they understood what Jesus was all about, and they did kind of get it. Their faith was in Him. However, they were seeing everything through an earthly lens. They believed Jesus was going to set up an Earthly kingdom. How could He be their king if He was dead? Jesus said the temple would be destroyed. It was still standing. Talk about being confused and disappointed! Jesus' followers were seeing with physical eyes , not spiritual eyes.
So, what is disappointment? First, it's something that causes deep pain, and on the surface, it is when what we believe will happen ( sometimes, with great faith) and what actually happens do not line up. We believe in a healing, but it doesn't happen. We do all the right things for our struggling child, but we can't turn them around. We are the best wife we know how to be, but our husband still walks out.
When we dig deeper, disappointment is a reaction based on our perceptions. Like the followers at the cross, sometimes what we believe with all of our hearts is not really reality, and in order to overcome disappointment we must change the lens that we are looking through from an earthly perception to a spiritual perception.
Thursday, June 26, 2014
Talking About Nothing
Yesterday morning I sat in the hot tub on our back deck with my six year old son Jack. When you are six years old and less than four feet tall, the hot tub is the place to be. It's your own personal swimming pool. He climbed up onto my lap and snuggled up close. It was just the two of us. It was quiet. I decided to listen to whatever he had to say. The time is fleeting, and I know that in a year or two the stories he tells will not be nearly as entertaining or imaginative. Right now, they make me laugh. So, I listen.
He talked about absolutely nothing, nothing that would be important to you and me, but it was important to him. I heard about a tree cutting expedition in the woods behind our house, how he and daddy had cut a tree down and made a stump. With loud yells and arms flapping around, he told me how daddy had yelled, "Move! Move!" and that the tree had fallen down to the ground. "You can't see it," he said, "It's in the woods." Cutting a tree down was spectacular stuff to a boy who had never been part of such an exciting event.
I decided in that moment that listening to Jack's story was probably going to be the best thing I had done all day, and it was. From the outside looking in, it may have seemed as though I was wasting time. There were definitely lots of other "productive" things that I could have been doing ---laundry, dishes, picking up toys, all the things that mothers do a hundred times a day. I could have even been doing tasks that made me look or feel more spiritual, things that people in my life might look at, and they would be impressed. Wow. I do that all.the.time.. In a world where more is more, even in the church, how do we weed out the important stuff from the stuff that becomes distracting busyness?
Busyness---lively but meaningless activity.
I thought about the Children of Israel marching around Jericho ( Joshua 6 ) for seven days. I imagine the Israelites must have been pretty busy people, between taking care of their families and their religious obligations. (This is starting to sound very familiar.). There may have even been some complaining going on in the camp. "Why do I have to walk around the wall? I have laundry to do,
and I have to drag all these kids along with me. Why can't the priest and soldiers do it on their own?" The overtly religious probably sounded more like this, " Tomorrow is not a good day for me. I need time to make a sacrifice. Everyone is going to think I don't love God if I don't get to that sacrifice." The soldiers, more than likely, had their own opinions, too. "Is this what I've been training for, to walk around a wall? I want to do some real fighting."
Lucky for them, they listened to Joshua and did what God told them to do. They shut it down and got behind the Ark and simply walked. They weren't involved in "works", those things that make us feel good about ourselves and make others to feels good about us, too. As a matter of fact, what they were doing looked somewhat like idleness and made absolutely no sense to the people of Jericho. They didn't even bother to attack the Israelites as far as we know. Walking around Jericho didn't seem logical or impressive to those who were spectators. All the children of Israel knew was that they
were following God, both by faith and in a real literal sense. They were walking behind the Ark of the Covenant.
In the end, it was simple obedience and the hand of a mighty God that brought victory to the Isrealites. It was about Him, not the Israelites or what others perceived about the Israelites. In this case, they were able to see clearly what was most important and to lay aside all other busyness (including talking) to make an eternal impact on the world. How do we do the same?
1. Decide. Does it really have to be done? Sometimes our immediate answer to this is, "Yes." Our emotions tell us that things that aren't really that important are important. Stop. Take a breath, and logically think through what will really happen if you don't get that one thing checked off your list. Usually, unless it's something like paying the late electric bill, it will simply be there for you to do tomorrow. The opportunity to invest in someone may not be there tomorrow. We can only count on the present when it comes to the people around us.
2. Are you at peace with what you are doing? As children of God we have the Holy Spirit to guide
us and convict us. If we are getting that internal static every time we do a certain activity, we should probably look at it more closely to judge if it is inconsequential to the Kingdom and making us too busy to hear the Father. We can have a range of emotions about many things we do. Don't get me started on motherhood, but at the end of the day, there should be peace about what we are doing.
3. Does it have lasting value? There are some things that simply must be done, but priorities can be made by this question. We can decide what can wait a little longer and what should be carved out, seized, or sought after. Jesus does not care nearly as much about whether we have a clean floor or a large bank account as He does as to what we have done to bring honor to His name.
4. What are our motives? We know Jesus is about the eternal, but He is also about the internal. We need to ask ourselves why we are making the choices we are making with our time. There is always something going on internally when we choose to engage in any activity. So, are we doing it for the right reason, or are we secretly struggling with worry about not looking like a "good" Christian? Are
we teaching that Sunday School Class because we felt pressured into it? Do we, on some level, feel that we will gain favor with God if we just do enough? Does it build our ego up if someone is bragging on us? Our motivations can be telling.
Separating our deeds into a keep pile or a throw away pile can be difficult. It can take a little (or a whole lot) of bravery. It can mean that we risk being misunderstood by a world that doesn't seem to have the ability to slow down. However, it can also transform us from being busy for the Father into being beneficial for the Father.
Oh, by the way, one more thing about Jericho, Jericho is the city where Zacchaeus the tax collector sought out Jesus and where Jesus chose Zacchaeus. Guess what Zacchaeus was doing when he
encountered Jesus ? Just sitting in a Sycamore tree.
He talked about absolutely nothing, nothing that would be important to you and me, but it was important to him. I heard about a tree cutting expedition in the woods behind our house, how he and daddy had cut a tree down and made a stump. With loud yells and arms flapping around, he told me how daddy had yelled, "Move! Move!" and that the tree had fallen down to the ground. "You can't see it," he said, "It's in the woods." Cutting a tree down was spectacular stuff to a boy who had never been part of such an exciting event.
I decided in that moment that listening to Jack's story was probably going to be the best thing I had done all day, and it was. From the outside looking in, it may have seemed as though I was wasting time. There were definitely lots of other "productive" things that I could have been doing ---laundry, dishes, picking up toys, all the things that mothers do a hundred times a day. I could have even been doing tasks that made me look or feel more spiritual, things that people in my life might look at, and they would be impressed. Wow. I do that all.the.time.. In a world where more is more, even in the church, how do we weed out the important stuff from the stuff that becomes distracting busyness?
Busyness---lively but meaningless activity.
I thought about the Children of Israel marching around Jericho ( Joshua 6 ) for seven days. I imagine the Israelites must have been pretty busy people, between taking care of their families and their religious obligations. (This is starting to sound very familiar.). There may have even been some complaining going on in the camp. "Why do I have to walk around the wall? I have laundry to do,
and I have to drag all these kids along with me. Why can't the priest and soldiers do it on their own?" The overtly religious probably sounded more like this, " Tomorrow is not a good day for me. I need time to make a sacrifice. Everyone is going to think I don't love God if I don't get to that sacrifice." The soldiers, more than likely, had their own opinions, too. "Is this what I've been training for, to walk around a wall? I want to do some real fighting."
Lucky for them, they listened to Joshua and did what God told them to do. They shut it down and got behind the Ark and simply walked. They weren't involved in "works", those things that make us feel good about ourselves and make others to feels good about us, too. As a matter of fact, what they were doing looked somewhat like idleness and made absolutely no sense to the people of Jericho. They didn't even bother to attack the Israelites as far as we know. Walking around Jericho didn't seem logical or impressive to those who were spectators. All the children of Israel knew was that they
were following God, both by faith and in a real literal sense. They were walking behind the Ark of the Covenant.
In the end, it was simple obedience and the hand of a mighty God that brought victory to the Isrealites. It was about Him, not the Israelites or what others perceived about the Israelites. In this case, they were able to see clearly what was most important and to lay aside all other busyness (including talking) to make an eternal impact on the world. How do we do the same?
1. Decide. Does it really have to be done? Sometimes our immediate answer to this is, "Yes." Our emotions tell us that things that aren't really that important are important. Stop. Take a breath, and logically think through what will really happen if you don't get that one thing checked off your list. Usually, unless it's something like paying the late electric bill, it will simply be there for you to do tomorrow. The opportunity to invest in someone may not be there tomorrow. We can only count on the present when it comes to the people around us.
2. Are you at peace with what you are doing? As children of God we have the Holy Spirit to guide
us and convict us. If we are getting that internal static every time we do a certain activity, we should probably look at it more closely to judge if it is inconsequential to the Kingdom and making us too busy to hear the Father. We can have a range of emotions about many things we do. Don't get me started on motherhood, but at the end of the day, there should be peace about what we are doing.
3. Does it have lasting value? There are some things that simply must be done, but priorities can be made by this question. We can decide what can wait a little longer and what should be carved out, seized, or sought after. Jesus does not care nearly as much about whether we have a clean floor or a large bank account as He does as to what we have done to bring honor to His name.
4. What are our motives? We know Jesus is about the eternal, but He is also about the internal. We need to ask ourselves why we are making the choices we are making with our time. There is always something going on internally when we choose to engage in any activity. So, are we doing it for the right reason, or are we secretly struggling with worry about not looking like a "good" Christian? Are
we teaching that Sunday School Class because we felt pressured into it? Do we, on some level, feel that we will gain favor with God if we just do enough? Does it build our ego up if someone is bragging on us? Our motivations can be telling.
Separating our deeds into a keep pile or a throw away pile can be difficult. It can take a little (or a whole lot) of bravery. It can mean that we risk being misunderstood by a world that doesn't seem to have the ability to slow down. However, it can also transform us from being busy for the Father into being beneficial for the Father.
Oh, by the way, one more thing about Jericho, Jericho is the city where Zacchaeus the tax collector sought out Jesus and where Jesus chose Zacchaeus. Guess what Zacchaeus was doing when he
encountered Jesus ? Just sitting in a Sycamore tree.
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