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.

Sometimes God Speaks While You're Still In Your PJ's

English: Oswald Chambers (1874-1917) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

It is not on what we spend

the greatest amount of time

that molds us the most,

but whatever exerts

the most power over us.

Chambers, Oswald (2010-10-22). My Utmost for His Highest, Updated Edition (p. 159).

Discovery House Publishers. Kindle Edition.

This morning, before I had even gotten out of bed, I read the above words and felt my brain explode.  Here’s the comment that I wrote in a Kindle note attached to the above quote:

True, but if we are more strongly controlled by temporal things than by the Spirit and the Truth, then we will force a greater connection between power and time. In other words, if I am controlled by temporal things, I will insist on dedicating more and more of my time to those temporal things. I won't be able to stand it any other way.

But there's an inverse reality here as well! If I am controlled by temporal things, then I will refuse to give time to anything that I fear will control me. So, for example, as a person inadequately sanctified (and therefore temporally controlled by default), I am terrified to spend too much of my time on drudgery, because I dread becoming a drudge. Time spent = control given. Escapism is a loud acknowledgement that I am a slave of Time instead of a freed citizen of Eternity.

But if, as a Gospel-sanctified person, I submit to the power of God alone, then power and time are severed from each other. Time spent doing drudgery does NOT give drudgery power over me, to define me. And I will not feel the need to slavishly devote all possible time to temporal pleasures, because they no longer have the power to define our create me.

So then, sanctified freedom from the power of time actually frees me to do God's Will (loving and serving) within the confines of time.

And what is death, but stepping outside of time and into eternity? So then, Christ's call to "die daily" includes a call to sever the connection between time and power in my life, freeing me to obey Him by living (loving and serving) within the confines of Time as a free citizen of Eternity.

Now, I could spend a loooong time clarifying and expanding on that, but I just want to leave it be, at least for the time being.  If you feel like gnawing some marrow out of that dry bone, go for it!  If not, well, just remember that I wrote it in my pink-with-black-scotty dog pajamas, and feel free to walk away.

Tough and Tender

flashpoint-episode-2 

"We are not merely imperfect creatures
who must be improved: 

we are rebels who must lay down our arms."

C. S. Lewis

I'm not really "up" on TV shows.  I don't watch much. So it's not too surprising that I've only now discovered "Flashpoint," after it has already finished its 5-season run.

To say I'm "hooked" would be an understatement.

I'm such a sucker for this kind of thing.  I like my cops good.  I like 'em stocked with a boatload of that utterly irresistible combination of toughness and tenderness.

Not wimpy-good.  Not spineless do-gooders.  A word of command from Sergeant Parker (fans know that the word is "Scorpio"), and Ed Lane or the others will kill.  Parker would too, but his main job is negotiating.  He tries to bring about a peaceful solution if possible.  He hates the word "Scorpio," but he won't hesitate to say it when it needs to be said. And Ed won't hesitate to fire, but he'll feel the hurt of it.

And both men will gently comfort the traumatized whenever they can.  They'll speak words of encouragement and hope.  And they'll mean them, too.  They're not just trying to manipulate.

Tough and tender.  Sigh...gotta love it.

Why do I love that combo so much?  (And it's clearly not just me.  Shows don't last for 5 seasons without a serious fanbase.)  Why is it so compelling to see a man...someone who commands the firepower of a half-dozen teammates with guns trained on the subject... walk gently toward the subject and speak with quiet wisdom that sometimes...but only sometimes...wins the hardened heart over?  Why do we LOVE to see him take that risk, to see him care, to see him tempering all of that power with genuine meekness?

Are we just wired that way?

Who wired us?  Who wanted us to love the warring man of peace, the killer/savior?

Could it be that we're the rebels who want to be won over?

Could it be that we know in our hearts that there's Someone out there to whom we're accountable, and we know He has both the power and the right to kill us for our treason?  Could it be that we love to see a powerfully meek (not wimpy) Savior who can win our hearts, talk us down from our suicidal rebellion, and give us a reason to hope again...all without sacrificing justice?

To hear the world talk, you'd think the answer was "no."  The world doesn't want to be told it's sinful.  Or accountable.  Or worthy of death.

But when we see our guilt...oh, when we see it...when we see the smoking gun in our hands, the telltale blood on our souls, the crushing wrongness of it all...either we will despair and rebel to the bitter end, or we will love the Tough and Tender Savior. We'll lay down our arms and rush into His.

And we'll never get tired of His story.

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."

Prompts for Thinking of Others As Better Than Yourself

Photo by Brokenarts

Prompts For Thinking of Others As 

Better Than Yourself

This command from God, to think of others as “better” or “more significant” than ourselves (Php 2:3) is a tough one for me.  Is it for you, too?

“Why should I?” is often my attitude.  And even when I feel like I ought to obey “just because He said so,” I often catch myself feeling like, “Okay, I need to go live in Pretend World so I can think of so-and-so more highly than myself.”  

My attitude is hideous, I know, which is why I rarely even dare to put it into words in my own mind...but that doesn't mean I don't FEEL it.  Is anyone out there willing to assure me that I’m not the only one?

I'm beginning to truly hate the particular brand of Fundamentalism that permeated the South when I was in my formative years.  The Fundamentalism which forgot the fundamentals of Christlike love and humility, in favor of an attitude of arrogant, hateful superiority.  One which taught me that I already KNEW my neighbor and/or my enemy, because I’d seen and heard his caricature lampooned often enough.  One that saw no reason to even try to get to know those on the Outside better.

Him?  Her?  Just one of those.  You know how those are.

Hateful, infamous travesty.  Nothing Christlike about it.  It was a pleasure to cast it aside at last.

But still...I’m to consider all others more important than myself?  Why not just as important?

Well, frankly, I don’t know for sure.  But I DO know that obedience to this command doesn’t involve a trip to Pretend World.  (The One who issued the command doesn’t live there.)  In fact, it involves two of the most real things in the world (unfortunately often counterfeited):  humility and love.

Those are two things that I need to get from the Spirit, because my flesh has precious little of them to go around.

But even though I don’t know why He gave this command, I’m still to obey it.  So I’m trying to think of ways to help myself do that, and (naturally), I’m writing it down here.  Hey, it’s what bloggers do.  

Here’s what I’m hoping to remember when I find myself in a situation that makes it hard for me to think of others more highly than myself (surely there’s one that will fit whatever circumstance it may be):

• This person has a need, and the Lord has given me the ability to share His love in meeting that need.  Kind-of like triage...people with needs are very significant!
• I have a need, and this person could help/is helping.  This is humbling for me, and I honor them for their resources and their help. 
• This person is made in the image of God, but does not yet know her Creator.  Jesus seeks the lost.  He died for the lost!  This person is very significant.
• This person is made in the image of God, and he knows and glorifies his Creator.  What could be more significant?
• This person’s life is a story being written by God.  Right now, my story intersects with his/hers, and I don’t know how much or for how long.  I’d better consider him/her very significant!
• This person wants to share something of herself with me!  What a precious, significant gift!
• God created this person with his unique characteristics, and placed him in this time and place. He must be significant!
• God is generous to the generous.  I am free to meet this person’s needs without fear of being drained dry.  (This has been a BIG fear for me all my life).  And since it’s His plan that we should serve one another so He can bless both recipient and giver, then I’d better do my job and prioritize this person!

Hey, I’m beginning to see a trend!  Writing things down really helps to clarify thoughts, doesn’t it?

Do you see it?

To think of someone as more significant than myself does NOT mean figuring out how much each of us is worth, and then sticking those things on a scale, and somehow making sure that my side of the balance always flies toward the ceiling.

It DOES mean deciding whose significance should have my attention right now.  Whose significance should inform my actions and priorities right now.  

God help me to learn to live this way!

Are We Ready to Suffer As REAL Christians? (Part 1)

Are We Ready to Suffer As REAL Christians?

(Part 1)

I suspect, based on what I've seen of American Christendom lately, that there are many people who are going to suffer because they are called "Christians..."
...and it will be undeserved.

Why do I say that?  Is it because Christians shouldn't suffer?

Of course not.  The Bible says that we will.  See, for example, Rom 8:17, Php 1:29, Rev 2:10.

The reason I say that it will be undeserved is because many people who will be suffering as "Christians" will not be suffering as Christians.  They will be suffering for being something they aren't.

The quotation marks matter.

To suffer as a "Christian" means that people don't like you because of your religion.  It's the same exact suffering that could happen to you if you were a Muslim during the Crusades, dying for your faith with bloodied sword (or at least with a hate-filled placard).  There's nothing Christian about this kind of suffering.  It's only religious.  And, according to 1 Co 13:3, it gains the sufferer nothing.

To suffer as a real Christian means that people don't like you because they see Christ in you.  Because you love Christ and follow Him in Spirit and in truth, the hatred they feel for Him rubs off on you.

AND ...get this... it means you suffer LIKE Christ...the WAY He suffered, with the same Spirit.

"As a Christian" means "As people filled by the Spirit of Christ in the world."

Are you and I ready to suffer as REAL Christians? Here's a quick-and-easy little test.  It's not perfect, but it's a good start.

Look closely at the photo above.  It's old and of poor quality, so feel free to click on it to enlarge it.

Look closely.  Feel the reality of this.  It's not from Hollywood.  It's from Nazi Germany.

I know it's taxing on your eyesight, but here is my question.  After taking a close and careful look at this photo, how many tragedies do you see?

If you say "It's hard to see, but there are two, the parent and child," then you have good eyesight.

If you say, "Three," then you have good heart-sight.  Soul-sight.  Christ-sight.

The man with the gun is a tragedy, too.

As is every hellbound soul.

Now, I'm not saying that "No real Christian would have said 'two.'"  Not at all!  For most of my Christian life (which has been much shorter than my "Christian" life), I would have said, "two" also.

But here's the real test.  Does it matter to you and to me that Christ commanded us to love our enemies? To bless those who curse us?  To pray for those who abuse us?  (Luke 6:28, Rom 12:14)  Or are we offended?  Honestly, ask yourself:  "Am I offended by His command (to the point of rejecting it) when I think of that particular enemy?  That particular politician?"

"Blessed is the one who is not offended by me.”  (Matt 11:6)

Do we see that enemy, that politician, as a tragedy if they don't know Christ and are bound for Hell?  Or do we only see our own discomfort as a "tragedy?"

Are we...are YOU committed to obeying Him in this matter, by His grace?  Are we submitting to His Spirit's promptings to love our enemies NOW?

Even on our Facebook pages?

Jesus said, "If you love Me, you will keep my commandments" (John 14:15).  He didn't expect perfection...that's why He came and died for sinners like me and like you.  But still, the true Christian will keep Christ's commands, will believe that they are best, will seek to submit to Christ in the keeping of them, will repent every time he fails (which will be often), and will love the beauty of His commands.

Since Christ's commands are perfectly consistent with His character, it is impossible to reject His commands without rejecting His character.  (And by the way, "Yes, but..." is rejection.  So is the constant search for loopholes and exceptions.)

And Jesus didn't say that "Love your neighbor" was just a nice suggestion.  He said it was the second greatest commandment, second only to the command that makes such love possible...the command to love the Lord with all your heart.

Are you convicted?  Do you repent of your lack of love for your neighbor and enemy, and renew your commitment to Christ?  Are you committed to seeking, by His Spirit, to love your enemy the next time you get a chance?  Do you commit to repenting every time you fail to love your enemy (which will be often)?  Do you know that you CAN'T do this alone, and are you committed to depending on His love flowing through you as you submit in weakness to Him?  (I ask myself these questions as well!)  Then rejoice!  You are forgiven and cleansed, and you are getting ready to suffer as a REAL Christian.

If you and I are not committed to obeying Christ, especially in the commands that He called "greatest," then He says we do not love Him.

If that's you, if that's me, then we shouldn't bother suffering as a "Christian."  It will gain us nothing.

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

Will you pray for me about this?  I need prayer on a number of levels:

• That I will love anyone who might respond to this post with enmity and hatred (!!!)
• That I will be humble if it gets good responses
• That I will not be satisfied with merely having written it...to the point of not bothering to keep trying to practice what I preach!

Thank you!

A Basic Rule for Prayer and Peace

I know that I often write too much, go too deep, turn people away by long treatises.

I won’t do that today.  Instead, I’ll just tell you briefly how I’m learning to pray in a way that brings peace.  If you’ve read my previous series on prayer, you’ll recognize that today’s entry is not a summary, but a perfect fit with what I’ve written before.

A Basic Rule for Prayer

Pray for eternally important end results most of all, but don’t pray for God to use particular methods to achieve that end.  You know the “prayer about methods” that I’m warning against.  It’s the prayer that tells God not to allow anything to “go wrong” as we define it.  “Don’t let life hurt me or my loved ones.”  If that’s your prayer, STOP IT. Or at least offer your request the way Jesus Himself did, "Nevertheless, not my will, but thine be done."

You can pray for godly ends with absolute confidence, because you know that those are God's will.  But face it, you do not know the best means for Him to use in any given person's life.  If you acknowledge that fact, and truly trust God to know best, then you can be prepared to joyfully cooperate with Him even when He brings pain, suffering, deprivation, or disappointment into your life or the life of a loved one.  

And because your prayer priority is for a closer walk with God by grace, evidenced by the fruit of the Spirit, you will know what "cooperating with Him" will look like.  It will look like drawing close to Him, peacefully submitting to Him, and cultivating the Fruit in your life and in your relationships with others.  This is a peaceful life.

But if you insist on telling God how to do His job, you will inevitably be disappointed (and probably angry) when He insists on continuing to be God instead of deferring that role to you.  You will panic when He makes the “mistake” of bringing suffering into your life or your loved ones' lives, and will feel that you have to take matters into your own more capable and knowledgeable hands.

 

This is a faithless and chaotic life.

Trust Him.  Agree with Him about the Big Picture, the top priorities.  Then trust Him to know how to bring them about in the way He knows best.  The God who planned Calvary knows how to redeem suffering to bring about ultimate good.

Trust Him, leave it to Him, cooperate with Him, love Him, love your neighbor.  Know peace.

Announcing My New (Other) Blog

Photo by Webdeblee

As much as I love writing theological treatises, I have other writing passions as well.  I LOVE to write fiction...in fact, much of how I "work through" issues involves watching characters in my mind living things out and talking to each other.

I know, it's weird.  But that's life as a writer.  As Popeye said, "I yam what I yam."

Most of my fiction never leaves my head.  But a lot of it would like to.  And maybe it even should!

I also occasionally get struck with bouts of poetry, and this new blog will give me an outlet for that as well.

Also, I have lots of older works of short fiction and poetry sitting around.  Some of my works have been featured in this blog, and much has been featured in writing contests at FaithWriters.  (I'm no longer a paying, contest-entering member, but it's a great outlet for Christian writers, so check it out!)  In order to kick-start my new blog, I'm re-posting my favorites over there at an anticipated rate of one per day.

Sooooo, if you like short fiction and/or poetry, please come check out "Weightiness and Whimsy."  I chose the title because (as you've probably guessed), the content will run the emotional gamut.  Currently (as of the morning of 3/4/13), it contains two works of short fiction, one that I would call "heartfelt," and another that is pure whimsy.  They're both older works, written in 2008 for writing contests.  I hope you enjoy them.

If you're hoping for newer content, never fear!  I have a work of very heartfelt short fiction that has been percolating in my brain for days.  In fact, it's the reason I decided that I really needed an outlet for my stories.  Maybe if they get out, they'll quit bouncing around in my head distracting me!

Or maybe not.

And don't worry...I'm still going to finish the series I've started here.  And I still expect that most of my writing will be for this blog, not the new one.

Anyway, please come check out the new blog, and let me know what you think!

The First Time I Hoped For A Good News Day

Photo by emsago

The First Time I Hoped For 
A Good News Day

Or:  

“How to Have a ‘Good News Day’ Part 2”

A few mornings ago I spent some time talking to one son about some of the mistakes I had made in parenting, and some of the bad habits that he and I had fallen into in our relationship.  I sprinkled some Gospel truth into the discussion, and the whole interchange was friendly and pleasant.  The morning routine ended up going fairly well.

As usual, after the kids left for school and I had breakfast, I read my morning devotionals and had some prayer time.  During that time, I was strongly moved with gratitude for all of God’s grace over the years in my life.  God’s sweetness felt truly amazing to me, and our time together was precious.

And, as usual, I hoped it would continue to be a “good day.”  Then that hope began to rise up as a sense of tension, of worry, of even a subtle demand toward God.  “I hope nothing bad happens” morphed rapidly into “Nothing bad had better happen!”

That was when God, for the first time, introduced me to my need to hope, plan, and pray for a Gospel-centered day in advance, instead of only applying the Gospel “as needed” if things got ugly.  This is what He impressed on my heart:

You want your son to understand and believe the Gospel, right?  
Do you think I want anything less for him?
Do you trust me that I know how to bring him to that point?
Do you remember that I had to bring you to a place of brokenness before you would repent and believe in me?
Are you going to demand that I not do the same for him?

That’s when I realized that I needed to hope, plan, and pray, NOT for a “good day,” but  for a Good News Day.  I needed to prepare my heart to live the truths of the Gospel no matter whether my circumstances turned out to be pleasant or horrible.  I needed to trust God that He was going to bring circumstances tailor-made for the kind of Gospel example (and perhaps even Gospel instruction) that my son would need that day.  
And it was not my place to tell God how to do His job.  It was my place to trust and obey.

So that’s what I prayed for.  Lord, help me to live the truth of the Gospel and to be prepared to speak that truth in love in whatever circumstances You wisely bring my way.  I am willing to be a tool in Your hands for the sake of my son, rather than trying to usurp Your throne.  Of course, I would LOVE it if You arranged pleasant circumstances, and I ask that You would do so if that would be best for my son.  But I yield to Your better judgment.   As Jesus prayed in Gethsemane, “Nevertheless, not My will, but Thine be done.”

It was a whole different mindset.  And I had a lingering suspicion that He was not planning a pleasant set of circumstances for us.  But it was okay.  It was okay.

It wasn’t long before the phone calls started coming.  The school is a very good one, and the staff are wonderful, but by the second phone call it was clear that I had to come pick my son up.  He was suspended for the rest of the day.  Deservedly so.

Of course, that was not happy news.  Of course it was scary to go pick him up in the dean’s office, and even hear the dean somberly tell my son that, if he continued his current trajectory, they might have to think about expulsion.

But the Gospel tells me that we’re ALL hopeless without the Savior.  So I’m in no position to think myself superior, or to get up on my high horse.  In other words, the Gospel requires (and enables) me to be humble.

And the Gospel tells me that God so loved us that He gave His only begotten Son, Jesus, to bridge the gap between man and God.  Jesus came to live a perfect life on our behalf, so that those who are united to Him by faith could have His righteousness credited to our account.  In other words, the Gospel gives me REAL hope to offer to someone in an increasingly hopeless-looking situation.

And the Gospel tells me that Jesus died to absorb the wrath of God on behalf of those who are united to Him by faith.  (It also tells me that His wrath remains stored up for those who will not believe.)  In other words, the Gospel gives me the proper perspective on sin (it really IS heinous), and does not belittle my concerns about the things my son is doing wrong.  But for those who come to Christ in faith, all of that is dealt with.  Real hope for real sinners.  The kind of hope that a sinner like me can gladly share with another.

And, the Gospel tells me that Jesus rose from the dead in order that all who are united to Him by faith might also have new life.  It also tells me that He sends His Holy Spirit as a seal on the hearts of those who put their faith in Christ.  This Spirit changes our spiritual DNA, if you will.  He begins to change us from the inside out.  The Spirit within us is our ONLY hope for real change.  My anger can’t change anyone.  That fact used to only increase my anger, fanning it to a helpless rage.  But with the real hope of the Spirit to offer, it’s safe to lay the rage aside.

So, when I talked to my son that day, I had Gospel truth with me.  Truth that enabled me to be brutally honest about the awfulness, of sin, but without arrogance or rage because I’m a fellow sinner.  It enabled me to offer real hope, to point my son to all that Christ has done for us on the cross, and to what He offers us now as mediator.  It gave me the priceless promise of the indwelling Spirit to share.  All things I’d talked about before, but that needed to be said again.  After all, I need to be reminded of these truths multiple times a day as well.

My son responded in ways that seemed hopeful, though I can’t know his heart, of course.  But the Gospel allowed me to come away from a painful experience with no regrets.  I know that I gave my son the best that I had to give.

I knew I wanted more Good News days.  After all, I’ve got plenty of regrets about my selfish “good days.”  That kind of living was yielding me a bitter harvest.  I wanted to put it behind me.

But the Enemy of Our Souls doesn’t let go.  Ever.  Until, of course, we go to Glory.  So he attacked viciously after this hopeful experience.  But that’s something for another entry.

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.