Baggage and Blessing

Wrestling over whether to even post this, because it's not EXACTLY from something I learned in my quiet time, but it was something I was thinking about while I was praying, so I guess it counts. .. Our current circumstances tend to color how we see the world.  One of the big circumstances in my life right now involves negotiating the tricky world of online dating. I have definitely learned quite a bit on this adventure!

I'm not twenty (in case you were wondering). My matches aren't twenty. Most of the profiles that I look at are of men who have been divorced and have children. One pitfall of this consumer-based approach to dating is that one can start to judge based on bald facts alone, with no knowledge of the nuances and specifics of that person's unique situation. I have been reminded over and over again by the Lord to reserve any judgement until I have met a person, and He has also gently taught me that all of us, every single one, have baggage. It just looks different. But, even that is not my main point.

As I was thinking about my particular baggage, I at first was focusing on all the bad stuff that I have carried with me in  my large suitcase with the tag that says "Forty(ish) and never married". Some of the contents: Insecurity, worry, fear, frustration, impatience, and loneliness. As a Christian, the Lord wants me to lose that suitcase, and sometimes I do. However, even if (when) I am able to get rid of it forever, I will still remember what those things feel like, and I think that is a good thing.

In my musings yesterday, though, I felt like God was urging me to remember that, along with the baggage, come blessings. My relationship with the Lord would not be what it is without the frustrations of singleness driving me to Him. My increased awareness of the people who are on the fringe of the church is due to being in one of those (often) forgotten groups. My confidence in God's provision of my relational needs comes from seeing Him meet those needs over and over without using a husband to do it. More practically, my freedom to travel (which I love) hinges in large part in being single, and me being the only one relying on my income allows me to give to causes close to my heart. I have discovered that I can deal with mechanics and banks and loan officers and taxes. I can be happy in this single state that He has me in right now.

Though I sometimes hate the struggle of leaving behind the bad baggage, I am comforted to realize that, without the baggage, I would not experience the many blessings that come from "Forty and never married."  Romans 8:28 promises that:

  . . .for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.

For me, for you, for all of us whom God has called to fulfill His purpose, He can and is and will redeem our baggage and transform it into blessing.

Control Freak Confessions. . .

I'm alive. Still here. Continuing to read my Bible and pray and seek God. I'm also a control freak. Continuing to try to manipulate God (in the nicest way) to give me what I want. It isn't working very well. Do you ever feel like you learn the same lessons over and over and over? A friend of mine refers to it as "coming around the mountain" again and again.

The longer I follow Jesus, the more I think there really isn't that much new to learn, just re-visiting bedrock truths until I finally rest in them.

I recently experienced a disappointment. Most of you can probably guess in what arena.  Apparently finding a husband requires dating, and dating requires risking, and risking often results in hurt. Intellectually, I understand this equation, and I understand that part of the dating process is figuring out whether to continue in said relationship, and that sometimes we all change our minds.

The tricky part, which I didn't realize until the last week or so, is not so much dealing with the other halves of the dating equation, but with the Lord. All through this process I have been trying to pray diligently.  Really godly, good prayers like "Lead and guide me.  Lead and guide him. I just want to glorify you. Do what is best." Don't those SOUND godly and humble? And they can be, depending on the heart from which they come.

Cynic that I am sometimes tempted to be, I know that my heart will never be completely pure until I die and am with Jesus. However, I tend to forget how selfish and manipulative my motives can be underneath the submitted-sounding words. I mean those words--I DO want the Lord to lead me, and I want Him to be glorified and I want Him to do what He wants with my life. But I also want Him to hear me and reward me for saying the right words and even trying to believe that I mean them 100%.

However, the proof comes when God answers my prayers in a way that I don't like. "No, not this time" is an answer. It is proof that the He is leading and guiding me; it's just that He's not leading me in the direction or guiding me into the relationship that I wanted. He's doing what's best for me because the Bibles tells me so (Romans 12:2 one example of reminding me that God's will is good, acceptable, and perfect), but it's not what I think is best. When I think this way, I end up angry at God. Mad that He's not giving me the goody when I tried to be the good girl.

After walking around in a funk for a week or two, I finally just sat down and really told the Lord exactly how I was feeling.  Somehow I never go straight to Him, but have to be miserable for a while first. Over and over I find that when I finally do get honest with God, I am able to see myself clearly, and the games that I play, and the reason I need Jesus in the first place. I am also finally able to breathe, to relax and to quit trying to make things happen.

Guess what? I can't control if I ever find a husband (well, at least if I ever find a good, godly one). When I try to control it, I end up stressed out and anxious, and with the danger of enshrining dating, a relationship, or marriage as an idol. In the preschool Sunday school class that I co-teach, we have been trying to explain to children how the Israelites built a golden calf to worship.  We made "jewelry" out of  Play-doh, smashed it up and then make a calf (well, kind of). It seemed utterly idiotic for the Jews to melt down their own earrings and then worship them. And yet, I am again reminded that I am not so different.

A touchstone verse for me the past year has been Psalm 138:8 (NAS):

The Lord will accomplish what concerns me;
Your lovingkindness, O Lord, is everlasting;
Do not forsake the works of Your hands.

 I need to stop saying it and start believing it!

Even If. . .

Today I read one of my favorite passages in the Old Testament, in Esther.  The exiled Jews have just heard about the edict against them--that in months, they will be slaughtered, legally, by the government.  Queen Esther's cousin Mordecai delivers a message to her, urging her to go to the king and plead for the lives of their people.  Esther at first gives all the reasons why that will never work.  Mordecai responds: 

“Do not think to yourself that in the king's palace you will escape any more than all the other Jews.  For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will rise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father's house will perish.” (Esther 4:13b-14a)

What stood out to me this morning was Mordecai's utter faith that, whether Esther spoke up or not, the Lord would deliver them. As a Jew, he would have known that the Lord had promised to protect His chosen people.  Mordecai had a plan--Esther to intervene with the king--but greater than his trust in his plan was his faith in his God.

I am thankful that we can see Mordecai's humanness.  "When Mordecai learned all that had been done, Mordecai tore his clothes and put on sackcloth and ashes, and went out into the midst of the city, and he cried out with a loud and bitter cry." (Esther 4:1).  He didn't just nod and pray and twiddle his thumbs, waiting for divine intervention. He wailed.  He grieved.  He sought out Esther and had to ask her not once, but twice to speak to the king. Once Esther was persuaded, he led the Jews in fasting for her for three days.  

Mordecai was facing certain death if the edict were carried out as written.  He responded with honest emotion, a plan, and faith in a God who might or might not work through the plan Mordecai had conceived.  Where did his faith come from?  The knowledge of the promises of God to be faithful to His people.

Fast forward to me, a 21st century Christian facing not possible imminent physical death, but the possible death of hopes or dreams or security.  I am going to lose loved ones.  The idea I had in my head of what my life would be doesn't seem to be happening.  I have waited and waited and waited for good things that I want (and, truth be told, believe that I need).  Yet I, too, have promises from the Lord as well.  Promises to meet my needs.  Promises to give me the desires of my heart.  Promises that nothing, NOTHING, can separate me from His love:

 For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38-39)

My plan may not work out.  My idea of how God will work may not be correct.  My desires may not be met in the timetable that I prefer (or at all).  Will I, with Mordecai, have the faith to believe that "relief and deliverance" will rise from God's perfect plan, His powerful execution of that plan, and His purposeful timing in when that plan occurs?  I may not get what I want, but I am promised that the Lord will give me what I need:  "And my God will supply every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:19) 

Ultimately, my truest and deepest needs, for forgiveness and restoration to God, have already been met through Jesus.  Romans 8:32 says:  "He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?"  The deliverance of my soul has been accomplished, arising from the cross.  I can trust the Lord for everything else, as well.

Watching My Mouth

I have been reading in 2 Chronicles for the past week or so.  In chapter 32, Sennacherib, the king of Assyria, is trying to take over the kingdom of Judah.  Part of his ploy involves discouraging the people of Judah by telling them that they are foolish to follow their king (Hezekiah) and trust their God.  I have been pondering these verses for the past few days:   

 And he [Sennacherib] wrote letters to cast contempt on the Lord, the God of Israel, and to speak against him, saying, “Like the gods of the nations of the lands who have not delivered their people from my hands, so the God of Hezekiah will not deliver his people from my hand.”  And they shouted it with a loud voice in the language of Judah to the people of Jerusalem who were on the wall, to frighten and terrify them, in order that they might take the city. And they spoke of the God of Jerusalem as they spoke of the gods of the peoples of the earth, which are the work of men's hands. (2 Chronicles 32:17-19).

The last verse, in particular,  keeps coming back to my mind.  What does it mean to speak of God as I speak of the gods of the people of the earth?  Usually when a verse keeps popping into my head, it means that the Lord is trying to tell me something about my heart.  My list of the present "gods of the peoples of the earth" would include money, status, education, success, beauty, and security, to name just a few.  How do I as a Christian speak of those "gods"?

When I speak of them, I shake my head at the foolishness of trusting in these wordly gods.  I might say things like  "Those things can't save you," or  "You will find out that it's not enough," or "You're believing in the wrong things."

However, there are times when I am speaking of my God, the God of the Bible, that I say things like "Oh, He won't do that for me.  The answer to that is always 'no'," or "Yeah, I figure whatever is the hardest, that's what God will make me do," or "He COULD do that, but He probably won't."

Just today I was talking to a friend about a situation in my life, and she suggested that possibly the Lord might be using it to put me more in touch with my emotions and (this is the one that got me) more open with those emotions in front of other people.  My exact response was a sarcastic "Yippee."  Which really means "Great.  Not what is comfortable, not what I was asking for, and not what I wanted."  Which in turn says to whomever is listening, "Yeah, well, that may be what God is doing, but I think it's a terrible idea and I don't like it and what does He know anyway, and (like Sennacherib told the Jews) HE IS NOT DELIVERING ME from this situation either fast enough or in the way I want."

And they spoke of the God of Jerusalem as they spoke of the gods of the peoples of the earth, which are the work of men's hands. (2 Chronicles 32:19)

 Ouch.  Actually, way more than ouch.  Never do I want to speak of the Lord in a way that denigrates His work in my life or His power and sovereignty.  I had to stop and repent and affirm to God that I want to speak of Him as Who He really is.  My correct response to God working in my life, even when it is not in the way I (and what do I know?) desire, is to say "I don't like this, Lord, but I trust Who You are and what You are doing, and I will accept this as good."

Because the God of the universe is not the work of men's hands, and He deserves glory and honor from my lips.

David, David, David. . .

Oh, I have been lax with blog posts. . . lack of posting does NOT mean lack of God moving, just sometimes lack of consolidating what He's been doing into any sort of organized form. 

I have had the privilege this summer of going through the Bible study "Anointed, Transformed, Redeemed."  It's published by Lifeway and examines the life of David with teachings by Priscilla Shirer, Beth Moore, and Kay Arthur.  David is such an interesting guy.  He is extolled in the Bible as a "man after God's own heart" (1 Samuel 13:14) and yet he was an adulterer, a murderer, and caused the death of thousands of people because of his disobedience (2 Samuel 24). 

I have blogged before about how I think it's interesting that these accounts of David's sin are included in scripture at all.  It would have been pretty easy to just gloss over that part--indeed, the book of 1 Chronicles does just that, telling about David's reign and neglecting the whole Bathsheba incident.  However, during our Bible study discussion last night, and through another book I am reading ("Desiring God" by John Piper), I think I am beginning to understand more about the nature and character of God and how His grace is most evidence in our weakness.

The book of 2 Corinthians, verses 9-10 say this:

But he [the Lord] said to me [Paul], “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.  For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

Yet another verse that I have heard many, many times, but have had difficulty understanding.  One of God's major goals is His glory.  The story of David, great king of Israel who killed Goliath and endured years of hiding from Saul, who took the throne and brought back the ark and received the promise from God of a line enduring forever. . . Well, that's a great story, and I could read it and think "Wow, David was so cool.  No wonder God blessed him."  The story of David, lustful man who sleeps with Bathsheba, tried to cover it up, kills her husband, and as a result loses a baby, has a daughter raped by her half brother and then ends up with another brother killing that brother, the same son sleeping with David's wives and taking over the throne. . . THAT David makes me see God and not David. 

Who is this God who forgives sin?  Who washes David clean?  Who keeps His promise (indeed promises knowing full well what David will do) after David "despises" Him?  David's weakness is the vessel for me to see God's glory.  The consequences of sin remain, but by knowing the unvarnished truth of David's life, the glory of God is revealed as the central message of his life.

Our lives are meant to tell the glory of God, as well, which means that we are going to have to show our weaknesses as well as our strengths, so that people can look at us and say not "Wow, she's such a good Christian," but "Wow, she serves such a great God."

Well, Except for That. . .

I'm reading in 1 Kings, about Solomon.  I feel so conflicted about Solomon.  He was the wisest person ever to live, yet still managed to fall away from what God required of him.  1 Kings 3:3 says:    

Solomon showed his love for the Lord by walking according to the instructions given him by his father David, except that he offered sacrifices and burned incense on the high places.(NIV)

Solomon loved the Lord, except that he sacrificed in unauthorized places.  Solomon loved the Lord, except that he made alliances with Egypt.  Solomon loved the Lord, except that he spent longer constructing his palace than the temple.  Solomon loved the Lord, except that he had hundreds of concubines.

I'm not bashing Solomon.  My heart is exactly the same (minus the great wisdom and wealth):  I love the Lord, except that I say unkind words.  I love the Lord, except that  I spend more time on the computer or watching TV than with Him.  I love the Lord, except that I don't love His children the way He has expressly commanded me.

My first thought about this conflict was to figure out how I can remove the "except that" from my life.  What do I need to do so that the statement can simply be, "Edna loved the Lord."  What plan can I make?  Whose accountability do I need?  What consequence for messing up?  Then I heard the whisper of the Spirit reminding me that there will always be an "except that".  I am broken.  Solomon was broken.  All of us since Adam and Eve are broken.  We can't love the Lord without exception in our own strength because our own strength cannot heal our brokenness. 

Once again I am brought back to the cross and to the wonder and mercy of Jesus.  He died for the "except that's" in my life.  Seen through His redemption, I do love the Lord.  Period.  But not because of me, because of His great mercy.  There is no "except that" in John 3:16:

 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

Right Now is When it Counts

Can you tell I'm a teacher and it's May?  Craziness abounds. . . But, God continues to work in the midst of the end-of-the-year-moving-to-a-new-building-trying-to-live-life busyness.

Earlier this week I read Psalm 106, and I have been thinking about verse seven:

  Our fathers, when they were in Egypt,
    did not consider your wondrous works;
they did not remember the abundance of your steadfast love,
    but rebelled by the sea, at the Red Sea.

The Israelites and I, unfortunately, share the same DNA.  They had just seen the Lord do miracle after miracle in leading them out of Egypt.  Not just one, but several supernatural events.  OBVIOUSLY God was involved in their lives.  He was orchestrating their freedom from slavery.  Yet, they come to the edge of the Red Sea and decide that this last rescue is too much for God.  Throughout the history of the Israelites, they cycle between belief for a while, and then unbelief.

As I continue to read God's Word and to live my life, it seems that, like the forgetful and idolatrous Israelites, I have to continually remember to walk in the truth that I already know.  The particular part of the verse that stands out to me is that "they did not remember the abundance of [God's] steadfast love".  I recently had one of those moments when life didn't go the way I wanted it to, and I was almost down road of rebellion in my heart. I wanted to doubt God and to shout at Him and to give up hope that this particular desire would ever be met.  Many of us have been there--when we still don't get the job after the fifth different interview.  When we still don't get a pregnancy after numerous doctor visits and tests.  When we still don't have a marriage after going on at least a million dates.

Like the Israelites, I can forget the abundance of the Lord's steadfast love that He has shown me consistently over the years and focus on the one area in which I don't feel loved, or where I fear I will never see His hand.  They knew God had already rescued them from Pharoah's control.  Yet they were still afraid they were going to die at the hand of the Egyptians in the desert.  I know that Jesus has rescued me from the pit of hell and has redeemed my life.  Yet I still fear the pain of the lack of the one last thing I think I need. . .

I am trying to grasp that right here, right now, in the place of feeling like this one thing will never change, NOW is when I have to remember the Lord's steadfast, abundant love and His faithfulness.  Right this minute is when I need to believe in God's goodness and mercy toward me and trust that He will, if not give me what I want, rescue me from the despair and disappointment that threaten.   The Lord did part the Red Sea.  However, because of the lack of belief of the people, they did die in the desert, as a result of refusing to believe in the promises of God.  I have the choice whether I believe or not, and while I don't risk dying in the desert, I do fear missing the peace and glory of God in my life if I forget the love He has already abundantly shown me through Jesus.