I Would Spare You Regret

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I know I've written about this sort of thing before, but it's been a few years, and I need the review myself.

I would spare you my regrets.

My greatest regrets have come from the times when I've traded away love, or joy, or obedience, or humility, or hope, or trust.  And what have I usually traded them for?

Control.  The power to make something unpleasant stop, or to make something pleasant start.  

But as hard as it is for us to believe in the midst of painful, scary, or frustrating situations, the fact is that the fruits and gifts of the Spirit are worth infinitely more than control (or the illusion of control).

Love, obedience, joy and all the rest... these were purchased for us at the cost of the unimaginable agonies of Calvary. What will you and I trade those things for? How cheaply will you and I sell them off today... maybe even this hour?

God forbid!

Whenever you are reading this, please stop and pray.  Thank the Lord for His peace, love, hope, joy, and all the rest.  And prayerfully determine, by His grace, that in this hour you will not trade away so cheaply what He purchased with His blood.  Purpose not to attempt this in your own strength (that's impossible), but to be mindful of what's at stake, and to prayerfully cling to Him in whatever the hour may bring.

And then, the next hour, do it again by His grace.

The following suggestion will not apply to everyone. But in my own case I've found it helpful to install an app* on my phone that makes a little noise at the top of every hour. (I have it set not to disturb me during sleeping hours.) I use that little noise as a reminder to thank the Lord for the previous hour, and to confess any sins committed. I acknowledge His lordship over the coming hour, and my responsibility to honor and obey Him in it.  And so, when I fall into bed at the end of the day, I don't find myself struggling to orient my heart to Him, as I would if I'd ignored Him all day in favor of pursuing my own agendas.

And I come to Him without regrets.

I emphatically do NOT recommend such hourly reminders for anyone who would find them unpleasant. No one likes to be nagged. But if such a reminder would be a pleasure and a help to your heart, as it is to mine, then go for it!

But whatever you do, don't trade away priceless gifts for things which will only leave you sorry.

*There are many such apps available.  This happens to be the one I use.

When God's Covenant Looks Like It Died

I'm on bedrest again. 3rd time in a decade.

Between a heart attack (2004), hysterectomy and repair of prolapses (2011), and now deteriorating disks pinching nerves and causing foot pain, my body has betrayed me often.  (Spinal surgery may be necessary. Prayers appreciated!)

I know I am a child of the Covenant of Grace, through faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. I also know that this covenant has nothing to do with making my life a bed of roses.

Considering that this life is microscopic compared to eternity, I don't want my best life to be NOW!  So I have a lot of peace about this... certainly much more than I had in 2004 when I only had religion, and no relationship with Christ!

But still, it's easy for us to feel we can excuse a certain amount of spiritual wandering at times of hardship, isn't it?  God promises grace to endure, but I'd rather have escape than endurance, thank you. 

So the old familiar idol of escapism rears its many seductive heads, tempting me to forget my troubles... and to forget seeking to love God and my neighbor, too!  How easy to want everything to revolve around my quest for comfort!

Looking at Genesis today, I was struck by the bizarre-seeming covenant-cutting ritual in chapter 15. Could there be anything more foreign to modern Western eyes?

But as I think about it, I am even more struck by the image of Abram chasing away carrion birds which kept trying to pick apart the animal carcasses... those bloody, nasty carcasses which God had ordained to be signs of the covenant (Gen.15:11). 

Carrion birds are often used to represent satanic forces.  And don't the enemy's minions love to swoop down and tear up all visible evidences of God's promises to us?

How often do God's promises look like ugly, dead things to us? What beauty or hope did Abram have to look upon in those mutilated animal carcasses? And how relentless would those carrion birds have been! How frustrating and discouraging to have to keep chasing them, non stop, for who knows how long!

I would have been tempted to walk away, but Abram stayed and chased the birds away, over and over again.

If Abram had allowed the birds to pick apart the bodies, wouldn't the signs of the covenant have become hideous and loathsome in his eyes?

So, when he chased them away, he preserved the integrity of what he had to look at. 

Do I have carrion birds in my life? What do they look like?  I believe I know.  

Doubt, distraction, anger, self-rule, lusts of various kinds, discouragement, fear, irritability... these things don't merely indicate understandable human weakness. No, if unrepented of, they can distort my view of God and His covenant promises, until even the physical evidences of His truth can begin to seem like ugly, worthless corpses.  The carrion birds tear them apart.

But in Abram's story, even without carrion birds, the dead bodies would have become loathsome on their own, just through the process of decay while he waited for God. In the same way, the process of waiting for God makes the promises lose luster in our eyes, unless we continue to see them through the eyes of faith.

Lord, help us to recognize those carrion birds as they appear in our own lives, and help us to resist them tirelessly by Your Spirit (because we can never do it in our flesh).  Help us to remember that Your covenant promises are all about resurrection, so even when things seem dead, there's hope!

Help us to seek to love You with all our hearts and souls and minds, and with all our strength, no matter how long You see fit to delay, or how many carrion birds of temptation we have to fight off. In Jesus' name, amen!

For Those Who Can't Walk on Water Either

Sarah Trimmer (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

"Oh you of little faith, why did you doubt?"

Was Jesus rebuking Peter for lacking the faith to keep walking on the water?

That's the way I've always heard it, but now I wonder.

You see, I've had a life full of sinkings.  So many sinkings that I rarely get out of the boat.  And I'm less likely to get out of it if I think that my next drubbing will be rebuked by Jesus because... terrible failure that I am... I can't do the impossible.

Is the Christian life a process of learning to walk on the water?

I wonder.

Years ago I wrote something that I knew I needed to read again this morning.  (I hope you'll read it too, and I'll link to it so you can.)  I said,  "What if 'arrival' has nothing to do with reaching a certain level of perfection, and everything to do with maintaining the kind of humble, childlike faith that expects nothing from itself and relies totally on God?"

I really believe that that's true.  Please do read the article I linked to above, for more reasons WHY I believe it.

Whole sermons have been written about Peter's lack of faith causing him to sink.  Because of that mindset, people strive to grow stronger faith, and when they're faced with stormy seas or risky situations, they can only see two options.

• Proudly step out, believing their faith to be mighty enough
• Stay in the boat, believing that they haven't yet achieved a strong enough faith.

What if neither of those options are right?  What if the "proudly stepping out" is just that...religious pride rather than true faith in Christ? And what if the "staying in the boat" is a sign of spiritual failure?  What if both are wrong, and neither is right?

UGH!  Before long you can start running in circles like a terrified rabbit, and you give up on this "faith thing" because it just drives you nuts.  You can't do it.  You can't figure out which is right!  You can't figure out your own motives!  You can't see any way to step out in faith or to stay in faith, because you can see sin in yourself either way.  So you get paralyzed.  

To that I say (both to you and to myself):

STOP IT!

Right now, just STOP IT!

Jesus didn't say to any of the disciples, "Why did you stay in the boat?"  And I don't believe he said to Peter, "Why did you sink?"

For what doubt did Jesus rebuke Peter?

Will He rebuke you, too, if you step out of your safe place, and you start to sink?

No, that's not my Jesus.  More importantly, that's not the Biblical Jesus...the Jesus who is tender towards the weakest, the lowliest, the most helpless.  He does not break the bruised reed (Matt 12:20).

There are several accounts in the Bible of Jesus saving the disciples from stormy seas.  In the one we've been looking at, Jesus walked on the water to the boat, and Peter walked out to meet him.  In another case, Jesus was asleep in the boat, and they came and woke him up.  In both cases, they were terrified.

And in both cases, the rebuke was the same.  "Why did you doubt?  Where is your faith?"

Maybe we've been asking the wrong question.  Maybe the question isn't, "Why did Peter sink?"

What if the right question is, "Why did Peter fear that Jesus wouldn't save him when he sank?"

Remember, in both stormy situations, for the disciples both in and out of the boat, the question was the same. The gentle, loving rebuke was the same.  "Why did you doubt?"

Why do you and I doubt that He will save us when we are sinking?  Why are we making "in vs. out of the boat" the issue?  Why are we making "on top of the water vs. going under the water" the issue?

Are we to fear, in either location?

Was half-dunked Peter filled with less faith than the ones in the boat?  I don't think so.  All of them were afraid of going under, regardless of where they were when it happened.

Joyful, free faith doesn't have to examine its own perfection to see whether it should get out of the boat or stay there.  It doesn't say, "I'm disqualified from getting out of the boat, because I can spot sin remaining in myself and in my motives." It doesn't say, "Oh no, my sinking must mean that my faith wasn't strong enough!"

Joyful, free faith trusts Jesus no matter where we feel the water threatening to overwhelm us, even though we're not yet perfected, because HE is our Savior.

Why must we keep relearning that HE saves us?  Why do we keep thinking that we save ourselves by making our faith perfect enough, instead of believing that He saves people of little faith?

He is the Savior...not of the perfected, but of sinners (Luke 5:31-32)!  Why do we doubt?  He who saves those in the boat, will he not save those who walk out on the water and then start to sink?

Where are you in your walk?  Does Jesus want you to believe that you could be anywhere, anywhere where He cannot save you?

The life of faith is not a life of staying always on top of the waves.  It's a life of believing that you are free to walk with Him in humble-but-imperfect ways, without doubting that His love will pull you out of the water no matter where you are when you start to sink.

Because you WILL sink sometimes.  I guarantee it.  Life's billows WILL overwhelm you.

Cancer.  Loss of a loved one.  Betrayal.  Failure.  Injury.  Job loss.  Moving to an unfamiliar place.

You WILL sink sometimes.

The question from Jesus, I believe, is not, "Why did you sink?"

It is, "Why did you fear I would not be here to lift you up when you sank?"

So step out if you feel that's what God is calling you to do.  Don't question if you have enough faith to stay on the water.  Just believe that He will save you when you get wet.

And here's a final word of love to those who are currently under the waves, and have been there, perhaps, for a long time.  I am NOT preaching a despicable "prosperity gospel" (which I hate) here.  I am not saying that Jesus will always take the waves away.  His salvation is sometimes through the trials, not from the trials. Your pain does not mean He loves you less, or that you are a failure.  Trust Him, trust Him, that He will pull you out of the water when the time is right, when that part of your life's story has been written to perfection (even if that relief doesn't come in this lifetime).  Trust that He is your Savior, no matter where you are in relation to the boat, the water, or the other disciples. He will bring you to the right place because of your continued, trusting obedience.  Remember, as long as we're on this earth, it's a Christian walk, not a Christian arrival.

Trust Him, trust Him, trust Him, wherever you are, no matter how far you've gone under life's overwhelming forces.

That's a stronger faith than one which skips lightly across the waves.

What's Love Got To Do With It?

Photo by Loleia

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God.
Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance,
and endurance produces character, and character produces hope,
and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.
                                                                     (Rom 5:1-5 ESV)

I hate to admit it, but to me the Scripture passage above always seemed to start at soaring heights, only to plop down with an ungraceful thud.

I would start out reading words that promised to make all of my life's sufferings worthwhile, promised to make sense of the pain.  Promised to make me dare to hope again...even though for many years I had hated hope with my whole being.

Yes, yes, that's what I want.  I need to know that this agony called life will be worth it all in the end!  So tell me...why won't hope put me to shame?  It always has, you know.  Hope strings you along and then drops you in the dust and grinds your face in the shards of your shattered dreams.  Hope is a cruel trickster, a sadistic torturer who preys on weaklings who are stupid enough to believe its lies.

So tell me...why doesn't hope put me to shame?  

"Because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us."

*Thud.*

With apologies to Tina Turner, what's love got to do with it?  

Want to confuse an Olympic hopeful?  Tell him to keep sweating and agonizing because...what?  He'll get gold and glory?  No, he'll get God's love poured out in his heart.  He'll look at you like you're nuts.  Love is nice, but that's not what he's suffering for.

Romans 5:5 may be a nice sentiment, Lord, but love isn't what I'm suffering for.  You'll need to do better than that if you want to convince me to hope again.

Let those words simmer in your ears.  "Love isn't what I'm suffering for."

Are you sure?  Maybe it's not your goal for your suffering, but could it be His goal for your suffering?

Love is what Jesus suffered for.  True, He suffered for sin...ours, not His.  But He didn't have to do that.  He could have just annihilated us, or tossed us all into damnation without a backward glance.  It was His love for us that brought Him to Bethlehem, to the dusty streets of Israel, to Calvary, to the grave.

And that journey took Him back into glory, as the firstborn from the dead, followed by all those that He purchased for Himself with His own blood.

Either He was a fool, or love is worth suffering for.

Maybe...just maybe...love is the only thing worth suffering for.

As my prayer life has become increasingly focused on aligning my priorities with His, I'm finding this whole messy "love" business is becoming more central.  And because I'm such a self-centered person, love is something I mostly grieve because of its weakness or even absence in my life.  Only occasionally do I get to rejoice because of how strongly love has poured out of me.

Every sin you and I commit is, at the very least, a failure to love.  Unquestionably, sin is always a failure to love the Lord with all our heart, and soul, and mind, and strength, which is the most important commandment.  And most sins also spring from our failure to love our neighbor as ourselves, which Jesus says is the second most important thing we should do.  And each of these failures harms us and harms those around us.  Sometimes the wounds are deep and lasting.

The more I kneel to pray God's priorities, and the more I see the wounds I cause when I choose my own priorities over God's, the more I find myself pleading for God to fill me with love for Himself and for others.

And suddenly Romans 5:1-5 begins to make sense.

"Hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us." 

The words of encouragement won't make any sense until your priorities line up with His.  But when they do, you'll find the encouragement runs deep.  (See Ps 37:4 for another example of this truth...that promises depend on priorities.)

"Lord, I am choosing to hope in Your love for me, and in the outpouring of Your Spirit that will change my heart into a loving one, so that I will love both You and my neighbor as I should.  And I am trusting you that this growth in love will make all of life's sufferings worthwhile."

How to Have a "Good News Day" - Part 1

Photo by Marcelo Terraza

How to Have a “Good News” Day

Part 1

Laying the Foundation

It’s a bad habit of mine to expend a lot of time and make a lot of compromises in order to get what I call a “good day.”  You know the kind of day I’m talking about … all pleasantness, few responsibilities (at least, few that I can’t ignore), and plenty of enjoyable things to do.  Plus, of course, having everyone around me cooperate with my selfish plans.

Oops.

As you can imagine, my “good day” plans get smashed rather often.  And I tend to not be pleased about it.

What’s the solution?  Should I struggle to get more control over those around me, so I can force my plans on them?  But what about people and circumstances I can’t control?

Maybe I should just give up in cynical despair.  If I can’t give myself a good day, and God doesn’t seem to be bending over backwards to make life a bed of roses for me, what’s there to hope for?

Ghastly, isn’t it?  Yet I’d have to say that most of my adult life has swung between those two options.  Godless, self-centered, unloving, miserable options.  Sure, the ugliness has slowly gotten less pronounced as God has worked on my heart these past few years, but a lot of this nonsense has remained in my heart.

But, just within the past few days, I’ve been getting acquainted with an exciting new option.

What if I trade in my “plans for a good day,” not taking cynicism in exchange, but rather choosing instead to make plans for a “Good News day?”

What is a Good News Day?

If you’ve spent much time around Christianity, you probably know that the word “Gospel” is taken from the Greek for “Good News.”  And the more I learn about the Gospel and how it relates not just to salvation but to everyday life, the more I realize that I need to aim for Good News Days every day.

Good days, by my selfish definition, are often impossible.  Please bear with me as I explain...not for the sake of “complaining about my problems,” but just so that you, dear reader, won’t think I’m talking to you from my castle in the sky.  

My day-to-day life is complicated by such family funzies as Asperger’s Syndrome, full-blown autism, bipolar disorder, the teenage hormones of three boys, and all the ordinary challenges of family life.  One of my teens has been in a really bad state of rebellion lately, and has been getting in lots of trouble at school.  My husband’s job requires lots of odd hours on phone conferences with people halfway around the world, and frequent trips that last for weeks at a time.

To top it off, I deal with chronic back pain and occasionally recurring cardiac pain (despite being on daily cardiac meds since a heart attack in 2004).  Years and years of severe internal problems finally culminated in major surgery in November of 2011, which (thank the Lord) cleared up a lot of problems, but some pain still recurs.

So no, no ivory tower here.   And few entirely “good” days.

But every day could have been a Good News day, if I had only known.  Lately I’ve been having them.  And I know I always can have them.  Not because I’ve become an overnight expert in some divine secret, but because God gives a continuing supply of the good news freely to anyone who understands and believes in its simplicity.

A Good News Day is a day when the Gospel shapes my beliefs, my hopes, my plans, my actions, my interactions, and how I deal with sins and failures (both my own sins and those of others that impact me).

I’m finding that Good News days can be full of bad things, painful things, disappointing things...even failure.  And yet, at the end when I look back at them, they’ve lost their sting.  What once would have beaten me down no longer has that kind of power.  (Which, now that I think about it, is an answer to my regular prayer that I wrote about here, based on 2 Cor. 4:8-11.  Thank You, Lord!)

Have I become a stronger person?  No, not really.  I’ve just found the inexhaustible power of the Good News.

How have I found it?  Well, for years I’ve been steeping myself in excellent books like Future Grace, Holiness By Grace, Transforming Grace, Because He Loves Me, Give Them Grace, and many more.  (Please get these books and savor them if you can!)  The glorious truths in these books have gone a long way towards helping me change my hindsight.  They have helped to heal many of my hurts, by teaching me to look back on them through the lens of Gospel truth.  This is true for long-ago hurts and hurts from just a moment ago.

But that is only half of what they were designed to teach me.  And because I only got that half, the retrospective half, I still lacked a lot of Gospel power.

I still have tended to PLAN and HOPE for “good days” (as selfishly defined), while only applying the Gospel to comfort myself if the “good day” didn’t happen.  

Without meaning to, I had lumped Gospel truth into the category of “consolation prize.”  I’d hoped to get the million bucks, and I’d tried my best, but I’d lost.  So I would gratefully (and a little ruefully) accept the parting gifts instead.  They were better than nothing.

Oh, how tragic it is when we fail to see the lavish gifts we’ve been given as the treasures they really are!

It’s time to start hoping and planning for Good News Days.  Such days are not second best, they are what it’s all about.  They are the days of gold, silver and precious stones that will survive the test of God’s purifying fire (1 Co. 3:11-15).

Let me say it again:

A Good News Day is a day when the Gospel shapes my beliefs, my hopes, my plans, my actions, my interactions, and how I deal with sins and failures (both my own sins and those of others that impact me).

In future entries we’ll look at how we can plan and hope for such days, how we can live them, and what they might look like.  

Happy New Day!

Image by Andreas-photography via Flickr

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

For many people, there's a surge of hope during this season.  A New Year is born, fresh with possibility, alive with optimism.

Before I knew the Lord, I was a bit confused by it all.  Life hurt in the past, life hurts now, and life will hurt in the future.  Who cares if the calendar changes? And besides that, my past efforts at self-reform always failed, so why would I put stock in any new resolutions?

Add to that my cynical (but accurate) view of the televised licentious reveling that I refused to watch, my awareness that those partiers really drowned their sorrows and doubts in alcohol rather than in true hope, and you can see why New Year's Day never meant much to me.

Isn't it amazing how one cynical and hopeless person can look down on others for even trying to find hope?  Honestly, I think that's how I felt…like they were fools for trying at all, never mind that they were looking in all the wrong places.

I know, I must have been a real bummer, right?  But I never had to sleep off a hangover the next morning, so I was ahead of the game in at least that one respect.

Fast forward to today, to New Year's seen through believing eyes.

New Year's Day still doesn't mean much to me, but for very different reasons. 

His mercies are new every morning!  (Lam 3:22-23)

Aren't you glad you don't have to wait 364 days for a new start when you blow it on January 2nd?  Any day…in fact, any moment can mark a new beginning.  Every time we repent of our sin and turn to the Lord, He makes us clean and gives us fresh resources.

Aren't you glad the hope is real, produced by the Spirit, and not by spirits?

Don't get me wrong.  I have nothing against New Year's Day, or the idea of celebrating it (in ways that honor the Lord).  It's not my aim to throw a wet blanket over what the day represents.  I do hope to elevate the possibilities of every other day in our estimation.  Because the potential of every day rests not in the calendar, but in the Lord who holds our times in His hands (Ps 31:15), who knows every day of our lives in advance (Ps 139:16 HCSB), and who promises to give us the strength to meet those days' challenges (Deut 33:25b).

And I'm writing this because, frankly, I need the reminder.  I'm not naturally an optimistic person. 

I'll bet you had already guessed that.

I don't awaken every morning with a song of praise on my lips, or with excited plans for the day, or feeling renewed and "ready to go."  My first morning feelings most days can best be summed up as "Oh no, I'm awake."

I gave up on New Years' Resolutions years ago, but maybe it's time to risk a new one.  Maybe what I need to do is write "Happy New Day, Lam 3:22-23" on an index card on my nightstand, where I'll see it every morning.  Maybe what I should do is resolve to put my trust in the Lord…not that each day will be intrinsically happy and trouble-free (I'd have to commit intellectual suicide to do that), but that each day is a new gift from God in which He promises to work all things, even my hardships, for my good.  Maybe I should refuse to accept the morning "Ugh" that usually fills my soul, and should deliberately seek to accept the truth of God's good plan for me this day.

It will be very hard not to sneer at that index card and rip it off of the nightstand.  Seriously.  I am not at all certain it will last more than a few weeks at best. 

Yes, I'm a believer, but my faith has some definite weak spots.  Like mornings.

What do you think?  Does anyone think I should risk it?  Anyone want to issue me a dare?

Or would anyone like to join me in trying it?  I might be more likely to try it if I knew I wasn't alone…

A Note to a Discouraged Friend

A friend has kindly given me permission to reproduce this note here (with personally identifying content omitted).  I'm sure there are lots of folks facing discouraging situations in this world.  If you're one of them, or know someone who is, I pray you'll find some encouragement here.

---------------------

Remember, a successful day cannot be measured by any of the gauges that the world uses. Success in God's eyes is measured in only one way...faithful dependence with love.  Even if you can't feel those things, just the stubborn act of seeking them is success. No one can prevent you from seeking Him, and He will be found by you when it's time.

(Of course you have truly found Him for salvation...but there's a day-by-day "finding" because we're all so blind!)  All of your other plans and hopes and dreams can be thwarted, but if your heart's cry is, "To whom else shall I go...You alone have the words of eternal life," then you have succeeded.

I know that you know there's nowhere else to go but to Him. And that's why I know He'll get you through.

Believe it or not, that stubborn dependence on Him, when all of life's trials scream at you to look elsewhere, will be a more powerful witness of His worth than any stroll down a spiritual "Easy Street." Demonic forces tremble at His presence, and He is tangibly present with those who depend on Him.

Seeing your dependence may be the most valuable lesson your daughter will learn in homeschool. She will feel the impact of your faith, perhaps more powerfully when it's hanging on by its fingernails than when it's resting in a hammock. She has a fight ahead of her, and it's good for her to see that God can bring someone through the tough times. She needs a God who is a mighty anchor for the weak, not just someone who cheers on the strong from the sidelines.

She'll know she can depend on Him because of what she sees in you. Right now it may be more important for her to see your dependence than to see any brilliant victory without obvious dependence. She'll see plenty of victories from you in the future (as she has seen them in the past)...but right now she needs to see that dependence is the path that will lead her there. You can show her your dependence right now with a tearful, end-of-my-rope prayer that refuses to acknowledge any other source but Him.

You have no idea how greatly you can honor Him in your weakness. But it's true. That's why Paul gloried in his weakness...because that's when God showed Himself strong. We tend to think of that "showing" in only one way...God strongly makes me a spiritual superhero despite my weakness. But that's not the only way He shows Himself strong.
He often shows Himself strong by bearing our weight...by being the very rope we're at the end of...and not letting us drop.

His "superhero" victories have their place, but they discourage many onlookers who have never experienced such things and aren't ready to believe that they're possible. But His "rope" victories... they speak to everybody. I believe He wants to speak to your whole family that way today.

A New Venture – And Why I'm Ready For It.

This is mainly a theological blog, and it feels like the wrong venue for posting a whole lot about our new homeschooling adventure.  But I know that many of you are interested, so I've decided to resurrect an old blog of mine and give it a new identity.  My old "Betsy's Facebook Blog" (which really needs a new name, but I don't know if that's possible) is now going to provide updates about our homeschool.  I hope you'll bookmark it or subscribe!

It's late at night, and I have a ton of dishes to take care of, but I want to write a bit anyway about a subject that is close to my heart right now.

How do I know I'm ready to homeschool?

This isn't a question about homeschooling, but rather a question about readiness in general.  Other people may experience things differently, but I hope some of you will find my experiences helpful.

How do I know I'm ready?

• Because I know I'm not ready.  Back before I knew my kids had special needs, I pictured myself as a homeschooling mom.  I had every intention of doing it.  The problem was, I had all the wrong attitudes and motives.  I was pretty arrogant, frankly, thinking I knew everything I needed to know, and I would be a perfect parent, and…well, I'll quit before I make anybody truly ill.  Bleh!  What a mess I would have made of it in my own strength!  Now, on the other hand, I know I can't do it, and I'm fine with that.  I know Who can do it through me, Who is leading, Who is providing, Who is my strength and joy and wisdom.  Without Him I can do nothing…but He's here!  And His command is His provision.
• Because God really did insist on this.  There have been few times in my life when His guidance has been this clear.  Very few.  Even when the thought of homeschooling brought waves of terror, I could feel Him coming alongside with assurances.  No "pep talks," believe me.  Those come from the flesh.  This was His quiet Presence, and His calm assurance in the midst of my storm.  So perfectly clear.  To tell Him "no" would have been unthinkable.  All right, I confess, I did think about not going through with the homeschooling, but that was only when I mentally left Him out of the picture.  He wasn't willing to be left out for long, though, and whenever He tapped my shoulder (so to speak), "no" went out the window.  He's just too good, too trustworthy, too loving to refuse!
• Because I'm no longer motivated by fear.  Back in my early days of homeschool dreaming, I was motivated by terror.  If the public schools got hold of my kids, they'd ruin them for sure!  (And of course the flipside was the same old arrogance, because I believed that if I was in charge, of course my kids would turn out as perfect angels.  HAH!)  Anyway, I'm no longer run by that fear.  The elementary schools that the kids went to were wonderful blessings from the Lord.  But even if they hadn't been, the schools still aren't in charge of my children's souls.  And neither am I.  My children's souls are completely in the hands of my sovereign God.  I am homeschooling now because I believe God has called us to do so at this time, not because I'm afraid of not doing so.  I think that's much healthier.

So you see, I'm ready for one reason, and one reason only.  I know I'm going to blow it plenty of times, I know I'm going to have times of tears and frustration, and I know I don't have what it takes.  I'm sure I'll be writing plenty of discouraged-sounding entries.  But God has willed this, and He'll see us all through it.   

What more could we possibly need?

Drawing Conclusions in the Dark

Image by karlequin via Flickr

“We should never pass judgment in overwhelming hours. Let a man accept the verdict of his Lord, but never the verdict of his melancholy.

Hours come when everything seems wrong and when all the lights of heaven are blotted out, and how often, in such desolate hours, do we fall to judging the universe and God! It is part of the conduct of the instructed soul to resist that as a temptation of the devil. Such hours are always unreliable.

The things that frighten us in the night are the things we smile at in the morning. We are like that traveler who in the fog thought he saw a ghost; when it came nearer, he found it was a man; and when it came up to him, it was his brother.

Overwhelming times are times for leaning; God does not mean them to be times for judging. They are given to us for trusting; they are not given to us for summing up. Leave that till the darkness has departed and the dawn is on the hills, and in His light we see light again.”

G. H. Morrison (1866-1928)

 

Burned Up

Image via Wikipedia

So much for my Saturday night treat!

It looked like a science experiment gone horribly wrong. An attempt at recreating volcanic lava in the microwave, or maybe brewing up some sort of sludge for the next great “wonder fuel.”

It sure didn’t look like the same lovely chocolate fondue that I had intended to re-warm. Noxious smoke poured out of it, even long after I’d taken it out of the microwave and put it next to a hastily-opened window.

My husband and kids were already upstairs for the night, having a little father-son time before bed. They knew I had already put a roast in the crock pot for Sunday afternoon dinner, and they took turns debating the source of the horrible smell wafting from the kitchen. Middle Son came closest when he said, “It smells like a chocolate roast is burning!”

Smoke continued to billow, so I decided to stir the fondue to release some of the heat. That helped, and the smoke finally quit. Then, in a moment of genius that could only have been born in a sleep-deprived mind, I decided to put an ice cube in it.

Hissing, smoking, bubbling, popping, and spitting ensued (from the mug of fondue, not from me). Stirring helped things calm down again, so I put more ice in. Why should the fun end?

Really, it was rather fascinating to watch, but even so, it’s not an event I would like to re-create. The stench remains seared in my memory, and it stubbornly defies attempts to eradicate it from the microwave.

The micro’s “Sensor reheat” function isn’t supposed to turn fondue into magma, but things don’t always work out the way they’re supposed to.

Aside from being an amusing change of pace, what’s this story doing in a “God-centered blog?”

It’s here because God sometimes turns up the heat on us. But unlike my microwave, He never turns the heat up higher than we can survive…by his grace.

People often say things like, “God gave you this trial because He knew you were strong enough for it,” but I defy you to find that concept in Scripture. He promises he won’t give us temptations above what we ourselves are able to bear, but he doesn’t say that about trials. And the Psalms are full of the prayers of people who are utterly overwhelmed by their hardships.

Been there? I have.

God says He refines us like silver or gold is refined…in a super-hot furnace (Jer. 9:7, Isa. 48:10). I don’t know about you, but I’m not cut out for furnaces. I can’t handle them.

I know, because I’ve been in them. And I didn’t do too well. Think “burnt fondue.” I may have gone in sweet (that’s debatable), but I came out smoking and spitting and bubbling; charred into oblivion and smelling awful.

Just the way God wanted me.

You see, He didn’t promise that He would only give me what I can handle. But that’s okay, because He won’t give me more than He can handle for me. I can be abased, I can be hungry, I can suffer need, I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me (Php. 4:12-13). Don’t talk to me about my strength, unless you spell it with a capital “S.” Jesus Christ is my Strength (Ps. 118:14).

He also promised never to leave me or forsake me (Heb. 13:5), and to make sure I’m not destroyed by the trials of my life (Isa. 43:2). And He promised to carry me (Isa. 46:4).

What’s more, he promised to bring me out of the trials as something more precious than pure gold (1Pet. 1:6-7)!

Beth Moore puts it so beautifully when she says:

The burning bush was unusual because the bush was not consumed. Heb. 12:29 says our God is a consuming fire. God’s is the only fire that can consume an object without eventually destroying it.

Anger destroys. Rage destroys. Lust destroys.

God’s fire isn’t destructive. He doesn’t feed off of us. He is the I Am, the self-existent One. He invites us to feed off of Him. No other fiery passion in our souls will ever guard us from getting burned.

Could it be that the fire we feel is not really the fire of our trials, but the fire of His Holiness?

If you are a child of God, even the fire is for you, not against you. It is His fire, or else one allowed by Him. And He specializes in fixing ruined people, like the charred messes that you and I see in our mirrors.

Never mind the “burnt fondue smell” coming off of me sometimes! The dross is being burned away, so that only what is pure may remain.

Unfortunately, there’s enough dross left to last a lifetime. The pure gold won’t emerge until Heaven. But by the grace of God, I won’t be burned up…just burned clean.

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The Beth Moore quote is from “When Godly People Do Ungodly Things” (partially paraphrased).

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Total Depravity and Hope

“Total Depravity” is not a phrase you’ll find in the Bible, but it describes a very biblical concept.  In part, it’s the teaching that sin permeates everything we do, even at our best.  There’s more to it than that, but that’s the aspect I need to touch on today.

Why?  Because a wonderful fellow-blogger named Tami asked a very pertinent question in a comment on my last entry.  She wrote:

One thing I find confusing is your statement that if we sin at all we are putting confidence in the flesh. Don't we all sin every day? How can humans ever say they are trusting God if sinning in any way means we live by flesh?

Excellent comment, Tami, and a wonderful point.  I hope more people will follow Tami’s example and write down such thoughts and questions in their comments.  I love to hear about what I need to clarify (especially if I’m scrambling for ideas for a new entry)!  I won’t always know the answers, but I do want to know what the questions are so I can start thinking about them and researching them.

The Christian life is one of hope.  In fact, Christians are supposed to be such hopeful people that it makes unbelievers actually approach us and ask us why we’re so hopeful (1 Pet. 3:15)!

Whew, I’ve got a long way to go with that.  I grew up cynically convinced that Hope was a cruel trickster who only lifted people up so it could enjoy crushing them again.  “You sucker,” Hope would sneer as it ground the shards of my shattered dreams into my face.  “How could you be such an idiot?”

Of course, since God is our hope, I was accusing Him of being this monster!  Such is my depravity.  And even this week, my Father has been gently pointing out to me that I distrust Hope, and that I mistake the brittleness of cynicism for strength.

And it’s true.  I have done, and still often do these terrible things in my heart.

Yet I write this without discouragement.  How?

Because there is a world of difference between battling the flesh and walking in it.

Yes, I am totally depraved…in my flesh.  Before I had the Holy Spirit, the flesh was all I had, so Total Depravity pervaded all that I was.  But now that I have the Spirit, even though Total Depravity still pollutes all of my flesh, there is a newness of the Spirit (Rom. 7:6) which is God-given and genuine.  That’s why my stumbling can’t steal my hope.

I can’t separate flesh from spirit clearly in my mind.  They have a mysterious bond that is beyond mortal understanding.  But the Word of God is sharp enough to divide even the soul and spirit (Heb. 4:12), so I have no doubt that the Word can also divide flesh from spirit.  And when Jesus lived among us, He showed us His discernment when looking into sinners’ hearts.  He said to his disciples as He pointed out their failings,

The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.  (Mat 26:41) 

And while all of those disciples forsook Him and fled shortly afterwards, there was only one whom He referred to as His “betrayer.”  That was Judas, of course.  The rest He forgave and restored because they were His.  They were marked out as His before the foundation of the world (Eph. 1:4), and would soon be sealed as His own by the Spirit of Promise.

That same Spirit of Promise indwells true believers today (Eph. 1:13).  Because He is in us, our sinful flesh no longer defines us.  We can walk in the Spirit even though we still have that clingy Gollum of the flesh putting its putrid fingerprints on the very best that we do.  The flesh is no longer the sum total of who we are.

God in his gracious mercy is very patient with the sins which we do in weakness and ignorance.  These sins must be confessed and repented of when we become aware of them (Lev. 5:18, Acts 17:30, 1 Pet. 1:14).  But God can see the difference between our toes and our heels…between feet that are stumbling towards Him and feet that are running away. 

Just as He did with the disciples, God looks past our weakness to our spirit which He has brought to life.  More importantly, He looks at His Spirit indwelling us.  His own goodness shines through the slime of our flesh, and because He has graciously identified us with Himself, He attributes that goodness to us.  No wonder we will stand in astonishment in Heaven, joyfully declaring our unworthiness to be there, and casting our crowns at His feet!

So in answer to your question, Tami, every time we willfully sin, we are putting confidence in the flesh, but we can’t say we are “living by the flesh” unless the flesh guides the general direction of our lives.  As long as we are in this mortal body we will sometimes stumble,  but we will repent, and we will get back up and continue our Spirit-led walk toward the One we desire. 

He honors our desire for Him, because He gave us that desire in the first place (Deut. 30:6, Rom. 5:5, 2 Co. 4:6).  And He always honors the work of His own hands.  Therein lies our hope. 

It’s true that, “In my flesh dwells no good thing,” but we who have the Spirit and are growing in Him will find too much encouragement in who He is to be discouraged by who we are.

But this entry is getting too long to dive further into the “hope” part of it.  That will have to wait until next time.  In the meantime, please leave your questions and comments below.  I love hearing them, and other readers benefit as well.

Morrison on Ps. 62:1

I've been struggling with discouragement this morning. To be honest, it's been building up for a couple of days, partly as a result of worldwide and national events, and partly because of more personal matters. But it seems to have settled on my shoulders most heavily today.

The Lord knew just what I needed to read in my daily devotions, and I thought I'd pull out some excerpts to share with you.  This is a synopsis of a devotional by G. H. Morrison.

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Leaving It There
"Leave it all quietly to God, my soul." Ps. 62:1 (Moffatt translation)

Much of the joy of childhood springs from the trustful relationship to somebody who says, "Leave all that to me."

We are not here just to understand. Now we know in part and see in part. We are here to glorify God by trusting Him even when we do not understand. And such trusting carries its own evidences in the rich inward peace it brings as if our life were in tune with the Eternal. "My meat is to do the will of him that sent me.(John 4:34)" His meat was neither to probe nor to expostulate. When the cup was bitter, when the cross was heaviest, when the lights were darkened in the Garden of Gethsemane—He left it all quietly to God.

The opposite of faith is never reason; the opposite of faith is sight.  Someday we shall arrive and understand. We shall see His face and His name shall be on our foreheads—it shall be written out in the region of the brain. Meantime we have a life to live, a heart to cultivate, a service to perform. "What is that to thee—follow thou me."

Again, we are to remember the psalmist's counsel in the hours when we have done our best—and failed. The higher the service that we seek to render, the more are we haunted by the sense of failure. The man who has no goal doesn't fear failure. But in higher ministries, when soul is touching soul and we are working not in things, but lives, how haunting is the sense of failure. Every Sunday School teacher knows it well, every mother with her growing family, and every preacher of the Gospel. So little accomplished, so little difference made, so little fruit for the laborious toil, although the seed sown may have been steeped in prayer. Well then, are we to give up in discouragement? Are we to leave the battle line and be spectators because we hear no cheering sound of triumph? My dear reader, there is a better way, and it is just the old way of this gallant psalmist—"Leave it all quietly to God, my soul."

Often when we fail, we are succeeding. We are doing more than we have dreamed. We are helping with our rough, coarse hands because Another with a pierced hand is there. Do your best, and do it for His sake. Keep on doing it and don't resign. And as to fruitage and harvest and success—leave it all quietly to Him.

Grief and Disillusionment Bring New Hope

Image via WikipediaOk, I'll admit it. I'm grieving.

I know that no human being is our savior. A different election outcome would not have brought Heaven on Earth. My hope is not in politicians. My hope is in the Lord.

But I'm grieving.

Grief is appropriate for a devastating loss, for the death of a loved one. And for me, that's what this election represents.

But let me be very clear about this. I don't think America is in mortal danger because of the candidate who won. I believe the opposite.

I believe that the candidate won because America is in mortal danger. That's why I said that I grieve over what this election represents, not over what it did.

And frankly, if the other candidate had won, I would not feel much better.

If America had truly been a vital nation "Under God," not only would the outcome have been different, but we wouldn't even have been presented with the same candidates or the same issues. This election didn't so much change the country as it revealed it.

And so I grieve the death of a dream.

I know that the America I love is really an ideal, a dream, a hope. For many years, the America I love has not been the America that I live in. And more and more I'm having to admit that the ideal, the dream, the hope could never really be achieved by human beings. Democracy is the best human form of government, but it is still human, and so will still be brought down by the weight of its own sin. It can only work as the Founding Fathers dreamed IF it is a godly nation seeking to be led by godly leaders.

America hasn't been that for a long, long time. So November 4th, 2008 was inevitable. If it hadn't happened this year, it would have happened in 2012, or 2016. In fact, I suspect that in God's eyes, Election Day was a minor blip. He's been watching our moral and spiritual decay and our blatant rebellion growing worse and worse throughout our history.

If a gardener knows that the root system of a vine runs under his whole property, he won't be surprised to see any particular shoot pop out of the ground. Besides, our Gardener can't be surprised by anything. He removes kings and raises up kings (Dan. 2:21).

We are the ones who feel the shock, because we had hoped the roots wouldn't send up this particular sprout. We feel the threat of the power that this shoot wields. And we see the danger that it poses to America.

But if we look at any one individual as the greatest threat facing our nation, then we misunderstand the danger.

The danger is never in the sprouts. It's in the root.

Our nation made this choice, and made all of the previous choices which led up to this choice, because our nation desperately needs God and has rejected Him. And that, my friends, is what we need to grieve. Not the outcome of the election, or the man it will put in office, though there is a great deal of heartache that will no doubt follow those two things.

Let me say it again.

We are headed for a great deal of grief now that we've chosen this president. But the heartache will not be primarily the result of the election or of the new president. It will be the result of national apostasy, of which November 4th was only a symptom.

We should not be grieving as if yesterday marked a horrible defeat for a great nation. We should be grieving as those who recognize that our nation ceased to be great decades ago, and has been self-destructing for a long time. Let our prayers focus around our lost nation, pleading with God to grant us repentance from sin, and grant us true Spirit-led revival.

And by all means, let's be disillusioned.

"Disillusionment - noun - a freeing or a being freed from illusion." (Dictionary.com)

We, as God's people, are called to walk in truth, not in illusion. And faith in human government is faith in an illusion (Ps. 118:9, Ps. 146:3, Jer. 17:5-8.)

When God strips away illusions, He is doing us a great kindness. The process may be painful, because we tend to love the little dreams we've clung to. But the end result is something far better than any illusion could ever give.

The result is real hope. Not a false hope based on the supposed virtues of any politician or nation, but a true hope in our Heavenly King and our eternal home.

Php. 3:20 For our citizenship is in heaven, from which we also eagerly wait for the Savior, the Lord Jesus Christ.

How often have we Americans read that, and said that? How often have we actually meant it? I fear that, for many of us, those have just been words, nothing more.

God is going to change that. When "Hate Crimes" laws are passed which get your pastor (and mine) thrown in prison for preaching the truth of God; when Obama fulfills his promise to sign our nation on with the Alliance of Civilizations, which among other things defines all who believe in absolute truth as "terrorists" and says parents who teach their children exclusive dogmas are guilty of child abuse, then we're all going to begin to long for our Heavenly home much more fervently.

But that's where our main allegiance should have been all along.

So I, for one, will grieve in my own way, but I will also have hope, for the truth of Php. 3:20 is becoming more real to me already. No one, NO ONE can corrupt that Heavenly city, and its King will never be deposed!

Praise God!

God-Seasoned Tears

Thank You, Lord, that my tears taste different now.

They used to taste of

bitter despairacid rage
bloodied pride
choking hopelessness
acrid loneliness
fevered hatred
sulfurous distrust
cruel accusation
bilious self-pity.


You could have chosen just to numb the pain
But any old drug can do that.

You're no drug.


You could have kept pain away
Like a doting father who would spoil me until I got mushy and rank like an overripe peach.

You are a much better parent than that.


I could not have loved You the way I do now, if you had done either of those things. How would You have been better than what Earth can offer?

But You...

Only You could do this.

You taught me that tears can taste like

fountains of hope
oceans of mercy
wellsprings of love
streams of refreshment
brooks of camaraderie
rivers of trust
seas of acceptance
tidal waves of thanksgiving
floods of praise.

And they taste like...

Salt.

You have told us that we are the salt of the earth.

Perhaps we can only be salt
if our hearts have learned to shed
God-seasoned tears.

Betsy Markman

(Photo from Stock.xchng by Fishmonk)

Perhaps the Most Important Entry I'll Ever Write

John Owen (Image via Wikipedia)

We have been looking at the sad fact that people who have spent years immersed in Christendom can completely fall away, often deceiving themselves that they're still "just fine," or even closer to God than they were before.

It's heartbreaking to see, and it's also heartbreaking to be in that position yourself. To want to be freed from the death-grip of sin, and to find yourself enslaved despite your prayers and pleadings and promises...there is little in life more painful than that. The soul rallies for a while, makes its vows, and exults in hope, only to plunge back into the mire like a wallowing hog. Failure makes a mockery of hope, and it accuses God Himself of failing to help. It's really no wonder that people give up on the God of the Bible and invent a different god in their minds.

Why does this happen?

One of the most valuable insights I've heard comes from the powerful writings of John Owen (1616-1683). His book, "On the Mortification of Sin in Believers" has aspects I'm not sure I endorse, but I give a hearty "Amen" to what he says on this particular subject. He writes, of course, in the old 17th-Century style of English, so I'll take the liberty of paraphrasing what he says. Please see the original work if you'd like to read it as it was written. You can read it online free of charge here. (I will put my paraphrase in italics so it will be obvious where it begins and ends.)

Without sincerely and diligently striving for universal obedience, no single perplexing lust can be overcome.

Suppose a man finds any lust to be powerful, strong, and upsetting. It leads him captive, exasperates him, disquiets him, and takes away his peace. He is not able to bear it, so he makes up his mind to fight it. He prays against it, groans under it, sighs to be delivered: but in the meantime, perhaps, in other duties, — in constant communion with God, — in reading, prayer, and meditation, — in other ways that are different from the lust that upsets him, — he is loose and negligent. Such a man cannot expect to have any victory over that one troubling sin.

This is not an unusual circumstance. The Israelites, under a sense of their sin, drew near to God with much diligence and earnestness, with fasting and prayer (See Isa. 58). In verse 2 it says “They seek me daily, and delight to know my ways; they ask of me the ordinances of justice; they take delight in approaching to God.” But God rejects all. Their fast is a remedy that will not heal them, and the reason is given in verses 5–7. It is because they were only focused on this one area of obedience. They attended diligently to that, but in others were negligent and careless.

Suppose someone has a “running sore” (which is one Scriptural metaphor for sin) upon him. It's a kind of sore that is caused by poor hygiene, or by other unhealthy activities. Now suppose that he tries every kind of ointment he can think of for that sore, but he doesn't improve his hygiene or the overall care of his body. His ointments will be applied in vain. It's the same for anyone who tries to stop a "bloody ooze" of sin and filth in his soul, and is not equally careful of his overall spiritual health.

One reason for this is that such attempts to conquer a single area of sin are based on a faulty principle, and on an insecure foundation, so failure is inevitable. What true and acceptable principles are needed?

Sin must be hated for its very sinfulness, not only for the discomfort that it causes us. Hatred of sin must be based on the love of Christ in the cross.

Now, clearly the kind of futile efforts described above are based on self-love, not on love for Christ. If you decide to fight sin in this way, why are you fighting it? Because it troubles you, it has taken away your peace, it fills your heart with sorrow, and trouble, and fear; you have no rest because of it. Yes; but, friend, haven't you been neglectful and careless regarding other sins that don't bother you in the same way? These are no less sins and evils than the ones that make you groan. Jesus Christ bled for them also. Why don't you fight them also?

If you hated sin as sin, and hated every evil way, you would care about everything that grieves and troubles the Spirit of God, just as much as you care about the sin that particularly grieves and troubles your own soul. Clearly you are fighting against sin merely because of the discomfort it causes you. If your conscience would settle down and be quiet about it, you wouldn't bother fighting that sin anymore. If it didn't trouble you, you wouldn't trouble it.

Now, can you really believe that God will support such hypocritical endeavors, — that his Spirit will approve of the treachery and falsehood of your spirit? Do you think he'll let you off the hook about the sins that bother you, if you'll only use that liberty to freely pursue other sins which don't bother you -- sins that grieve Him just as much as the other ones do? No! God says, “If this man were to get free from this sin that bothers him, I would never hear from him again; let him wrestle with this, or he will be lost.” (Paraphrased, emphasis added.)

I hope you read that and really thought about it. If this is the condition of your own soul, please pray hard about it. Ask God to open your eyes to the evilness of sin as He sees it...all sins, not just the ones that particularly trouble your conscience. Ask Him to forgive your lack of love for Him, your love for the sins that don't bother you, and the self-centeredness of your religion. Pray that all of your sins would bother you, and that God would grant you repentance (in other words, that He would give you a new heart that values Christ more than it values anything else, including sin). Pray for a love for Christ that longs to be close to Him and hates the thought of offending Him. Pray to be cleansed not just from particular evils, but from the sinful direction of your soul that does not love Christ above all else.

For some of you this will be your first true prayer for salvation, regardless of what other prayers you may have prayed. Salvation is not mere mental assent to doctrines that every demon knows to be true. Salvation cannot be less than the reorienting of the soul to center on Christ. It may be other things along with that, but it cannot be less than that.

God loves prayers like that. He delights to answer them. He wants nothing more than to see His Son loved, cherished, and adored as He deserves to be. And to the soul who approaches him in this way, He will give forgiveness. He will give Himself. And in Him you will find far more than you have been searching for.

Love. Joy. Peace. Cleansing. Freedom. A home in Heaven awaiting all those who trust that the Son is their very Life.

I pray that you trust Him this way.