Can We Talk?

I was reading Jon's blog today and in the reading it jogged a memory of something that happened a couple years ago. I was going through a particularly rough time and during that time had quite a few "fights" with God. Basically temper tantrums if I am honest.

About what?

Glad you asked, sorta! I can't believe I'm gonna even say this, but if it can help just one person - it's ok. I'm sure most of you are familiar with the story of the prodigal son. Hmmm... but just what is it you remember about this story? You remember that the father forgave the son who blew it, came back, repented, he even threw a big party! Right? End of story. At least that's usually as far as the sermon or Sunday School lesson went. But did you ever consider how the brother of the prodigal son felt, the one that just got a mention in the passage?

A couple years ago I was feeling incredibly sorry for myself. Pouting. Sulking. Whatever. Life just didn't seem fair. I had friends who always talked about all the cool things they did growing up. And all the not so cool, but in all honesty, fun learning experiences. The partying, the drinking, all the things you try, and revel in and move on from as you mature. But you still had the experience, enjoyed it, learned from it. And had great stories to tell.

Unless you were raised in a Christian home - and were not the rebellious sort. Overtly rebellious anyway. No, no, I followed the rules, stayed on the correct side of the line, went to youth group, did all the expected Christian things, went to Bible college, and was proud of it. I was God's good girl. I got acceptance and praise. I was doing something right, unlike those sinful friends....

And expecting to be rewarded for my sacrifice! I'm better than you and God loves me more..... well, at least that's the attitude I had.

Until years later when I started hearing (and really listening to) the stories. The fun. The experiences. The rites of passage. From the kids who did whatever they wanted and had a blast. And then repented and God loved them just as much as he did me. And forgave them, and welcomed them to His family. Unconditionally. What? What the heck was I doing denying myself all this stuff for then anyway? It's not fair. There must be some kind of special reward for purity and following the rules! How dare these people even think they are accepted and loved just like me? And so a few fights with God ensued. IT'S NOT FAIR! I was basically stomping my feet and acting like a child with a sense of entitlement. And stunted growth.....

In the middle of this a good friend gave me a book. It was Christmas time, and it was a gift. He had no reason for picking that certain book, it was just a good book, and one that he thought I would enjoy. (Trust me, I asked him later) The book was Return of the Prodigal Son by Henry Nouwen. I settled in to read, and suddenly I stopped. Shocked. This book was about me! Was my friend inside my head? WHY did he give me this book? I never in my life really saw the words in Luke 15: 25-31 about the brother. This wasn't his story, right? And now the brother's story was hitting me over the head. I was the selfish, ungrateful, entitled brother who was angry that the father had thrown the lavish party and accepted the prodigal back with open arms! He had had his cake and eaten it too! He had sinned, sown wild oats, spent tons of money - and then when it all came crashing down came crawling back to daddy. Who threw a party for him! Instead of telling him he had gotten what he deserved. And he hoped he had learned a lesson. And yes, he could live there again, but he'd better shape up and get his act together - he'd better take lessons from his brother!! No! He threw a party!

No judgment. No punishment. No recrimination. No conditions. And the brother sat on the side lines and sulked. Why did I deny myself this life of fun if it made no difference to our father?

See where I'm going here? God is God. He can choose to forgive anyone and restore them and reconcile them to himself for no other reason than that he wants to. It's who He is! And it IS fair. It's His call! I can sit and whine all I want - like Jonah did with regards to Ninevah. Who threw such a temper tantrum that God had to use a fish and a fast growing and equally fast dying shady plant to teach him the important lesson that EVERYONE is important to God. And loved. And forgiven. And no less accepted than anyone else no matter what they have done! And that God can do whatever HE wants. Ninevah didn't deserve God's salvation? The prodigal son didn't deserve unconditional love and welcome?

Oooooh - how convicting. How stupid and selfish I was being......

Tho it hurt, I was so grateful for the gift of the book. And the lessons I learned. Some days it isn't any easier and I have to remind myself I'm acting like a pharisee. Or a spoiled child.

God is God. And can do whatever he pleases. Really.

It's just a spot of paint....

I have paint from Haiti on my shoe. Every time I look at my shoe I think of Marfranc, the Grand Anse Valley, the missionary house. I see the faces of the children. Every time I look at my shoe I remember. The poverty, the brokenness, the ruins, the corruption, the oppression. But I also remember the smiles, the joy, the community, the love and the friendship. Every time I look at my shoe, I pray.

Tiptoe Through The Tulips

Spring has finally sprung, and the Tulips are in bloom. Somehow, in thinking about these flowers that herald spring and bring us hope, I made a huge leap to TULIP. Yes, as in theology...don't even ask what prompted it....
I remember in college being totally frustrated in my theology class. Predestination, Unconditional Election, these did NOT make sense. Neither did Limited Atonement. And where did any of this leave Free Will? Of course, we were taught five point Calvinism at our school - but it just didn't sit right with me, and I struggled. I passed the class - I could parrot what they wanted to hear, but even then I questioned what I was being taught.
That's probably why I struggled long and hard for years in the church I was in. Why I didn't fit. I just didn't think like they did, yet I was raised there....so what was the problem? When I was able to pin it down to some of these issues I could see I was a square peg in a round hole. I fit if I was forced in, because yes, of course you can fit a square peg in a round hole... but it was not a comfortable situation.
I believe pretty strongly in free will. And I believe pretty strongly that "Whosoever will" means just that - God has chosen all of humanity to be his elect, that he chooses to make us all righteous. And I believe that God's grace is resistible - we can refuse it. Why would God force us to love him, to choose him? What kind of relationship would that be?
Think about your relationships - if you force someone to love you, or be your friend - what happens? Resentment, pushing back, lack of trust and a suspect friendship.
So, really four of the petals have pretty much fallen away, leaving one standing - Assurance and Security. I'm still debating this, turning it over and over in my mind. Once you have the gift of God's salvation can you lose it? Calvinists say no, Arminians say yes - you can defiantly reject God. To me, I think once you have that salvation it can't be lost, and this begs the question of just what salvation is, and if you were truly "saved" in the first place. And of course this throws back in the whole concept of works. No, works can't save you, but without works, faith is dead! If there isn't a heart change, a desire to follow Christ and his way, was there ever salvation at all?

Wow - deep thoughts for this beautiful spring day when the tulips are in bloom.

Through a Glass Darkly

That's a phrase I have heard all my life. And understood. But it was not so strikingly clear until this morning.
I have a mirror in the corner of my room. A horrible, ugly mirror to be sure. But it's there to make sure I don't go out with mismatched clothes, or those that might be unfastened in crucial places. Because it is in the corner, and because I am lazy, it had taken on a significant coat of dust. The only thing it was good for these days was a cursory glance, and off I went.
Well, yesterday I got tired of the dust. So I pulled the mirror out of its corner, dusted it and Windexed the heck out of it. Pretty, shiny mirror. And then I put it back in it's corner and forgot about it. Until this morning.
Out of habit I got up and did all those morning things, and, again, out of habit glanced in the mirror. Whoa! There I was in all my honest, down to the tiniest detail, glory. First, let me say I was shocked - there was a person in my room, no wait, that's my reflection in a mirror. A brilliantly clean and unrelentingly honest mirror. I couldn't hide from myself anymore. Every flaw, every spot, every out of place anything seemed glaringly obvious.
And I saw me, for what I am today. Not who I think I am. Not who I want to be. But who I am.
Not pretty? Oh well, I have to face that fact. It's presented itself pretty obviously to me.

My dirty mirror obscured my vision of reality. It was imperfect. If my vision of myself is imperfect, even tho I know myself, and if I choose to ignore the reality of what I know - just how can I pretend to know God? Or all the things about him. I am here, and now, with a physical presence. Yet I still don't see myself as I am. How can I, or anyone else for that matter, be so confident that what I perceive God is, or what I perceive is of God, or even what I think God is saying is definitively what God is or what God intends or means? That is just plain arrogance. How can I be sure what I so confidently perceive as truth is indeed truth?
I think I need to clean the mirror in my mind that is reflecting God. I need to take a step back and really examine what I see. And fully realize, that until I see God, face to face, I will never have a clear picture, or a clear understanding of what and who He is. He will always be viewed through a cloudy and distorted glass.
If I try to clean the glass - I'm sure I will find I have been so wrong about what I have seen. I may not like what I see. It may make me uncomfortable, or embarrassed, or want to break the glass so I don't have to be honest with myself......
And someday I will be seen as I am, and He will be seen as He is in all His glory. And there will be no misunderstanding. The glass will be perfectly transparent.
Just try to get your head around that.

"For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known. "

Learning to love like a dog.....

Sometimes my dogs make me really mad. Especially when they bark, shred paper or steal food. Life would be so much easier without them. Until they were gone - and then I would realize what a gaping hole had been left in my life. And I would be sad. The puppies love to play. They love me unconditionally. They watch TV with me. They love it when I pet their silky soft fur - which is kinda like playing with sand or anything else that calms me. I can't stay stressed while I'm petting the dog. They curl up beside me at night and keep me warm and snuggly. They listen when I rant, jump when I laugh, cock their heads and look at me with liquid eyes when I cry. They want to be with me, they want to please me. There's no miscommunication with dogs. No hurt feelings.
They bark at intruders, eat the crumbs off my floor, fetch the paper. They know when I am sick or hurting and gently lick me, paw me, before settling down at my side to watch over me. The dogs will greet me with pure joy and exuberance when I come home from anywhere. Dogs love with no hidden agendas. Their love is pure and intense. Dogs expect nothing from me other than food, water and LOVE.
Dogs are born with an endless capacity for agape love, and they don't even have to work at it. If I am grouchy, if I ignore them, if I refuse them love - they still love me. And when I decide I'm ready to be friends again, my dogs don’t ignore me to teach me a lesson. They're just happy I'm there. Dogs love for a lifetime. This is something humans work hard on in relationships, but often fail at.
This is why we need dogs. They do something for us that rarely a human companion can do. No matter how much I mess up, or how many things I do wrong, no matter how many mistakes I make or how often I make them my dogs still love me. It doesn't matter how I look, how much money I make, or if I am popular. My dog never judges me. He loves me with all his heart.
A few thoughts to leave you with:

"Plus je vois les hommes, plus j'admire les chiens" (The more I see of men, the more I admire dogs) Madame Roland - 18th century

"the best friend a man has in the world may turn against him and become his enemy. His son or daughter ... may prove ungrateful. Those who are nearest and dearest to him ... may become traitors to their faith.... The one absolutely unselfish friend that man can have in this selfish world, the one that never deserts him, the one that never proves ungrateful or treacherous, is his dog." Samuel Coleridge - May 1830

"The dog chooses us, not because it is confused about our identity, not because dogs think we are the marvel of creation, but merely because dogs love us. It is such an amazing fact, and so counter intuitive (so profoundly unlovable do we think we are) that almost nobody can accept it as fact. Dogs love us not only because we feed them, or walk them, or groom them, or protect them, but because we are fun. How astonishing!" Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson

"Dog love is local love, passionate, often unmediated, virtually always reciprocated, fulfilling, manageable. Love for humans is harder." Marjorie Garber


"Dogs are astonishingly skilled at reading humans' patterns of social behavior, especially behaviors related to food and care. They figure out our moods and what makes us happy, what moves us. Then they act accordingly, and we tell ourselves that they're crazy about us. " Brian Hare

"Even when fully acquainted with all our weaknesses, our treachery, our unkindness, the dog seems to love strongly......" Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson

When a dog loves you, he loves you forever.....
Can you imagine how it could change the world if we would love like a dog?

I wonder.....

Babies are so trusting. So open. And so willing to let you love them. Hurt babies, tired babies, scared babies. They long for arms to hold them. They come to you with arms outstretched in supplication. Hold me, love me, reassure me, comfort me. And, as the adult they seek out, we feel so blessed. So needed. So honored to be the one to bestow love and compassion on them. To feel their tired body relax into yours, and feel yours relax in love and contentment in response to theirs. To let time slow, and embrace the rhythm of rocking. To feel the stress of life subside as you minister to another.

Is it like that with God? Does he feel happiness when we crawl to him in hurt or exhaustion? Does he feel great joy holding us against his chest as we melt into the safety of his arms? Does he hold our tired selves with great contentment, rocking us in his reassuring embrace? Does his heart thrill at our blatant need for love and sing with ecstasy to know we need him?

I wonder.

Thinking = sin?

Wow. I was reading some past posts on another blog today. The author was asking hard questions about God, wondering, thinking, trying to get a handle on her beliefs. I don't know that I agreed with everything she said, but I believe she had the right to wonder, to think, to ask questions. For years I have been afraid to do that; mainly because of my strong evangelical background. Not that I didn't want to - in fact I questioned silently - never expressing the things that bothered me. Never talking about the things I didn't agree with, the things I had serious questions about. Why the fear, you may ask? Because of precisely the attitude I saw in this comment responding to her seeking.

"I think you people need to get prodigal, return to the fold, and allow God's Word to be your guide. You guys think too much - just trust your local preacher at a Bible-based church.

Please understand this was written in love, the love of Jesus Christ, so you can repent of your selective unbelief. My prayer group and I will be praying for you!"

I don't know this gentleman, but he followed this comment with a couple more. I am not shocked - as I said, this is why I never talked about my musings. But I am saddened that there are still people out there that don't allow others to wonder, and learn and grow. That don't understand that we are free to wrestle with the hard things - not trying to break free of God, but to understand that he give us room to push the boundaries while still holding us safe in him arms.

To blindly follow a local preacher is to not use the intellect God gave me. To blindly follow is passive, comfortable and stupid. I will never own my faith that way. I will never internalize and make it my own. It will never truly be mine. I will never understand why I believe what I believe. People like this man are the reason we are finding such a crisis with our churched youth today. This is why we are losing the young demographic at an alarming rate. Rather than teaching them to blindly trust us and the rules and regulations that may or may not be right, we need to give them the basics, the underlying principles, and then encourage them to think, and make their faith their own. To make their own decisions about why things are right or wrong. To understand the reasons for the directives God gave and then apply them to their lives. Without the struggle they will never be a truly developed child of God. Do we want them to be a caterpillar, chrysalis or a butterfly?

OK - off my soapbox. Sorry, this person just hit me way wrong this morning.....

Dancing on Daddy's Shoes.....

Life's a dance you learn as you go
Sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow
Don't worry about what you don't know
Life's a dance you learn as you go

The longer I live the more I believe
You do have to give if you wanna receive
There's a time to listen, a time to talk
And you might have to crawl even after you walk
Had sure things blow up in my face
Seen the longshot, win the race
Been knocked down by the slamming door
Picked myself up and came back for more

Life's a dance you learn as you go
Sometimes you lead, sometimes you follow
Don't worry about what you don't know
Life's a dance you learn as you go

I heard this song on my iPod yesterday, and it occurred to me that this is really true in life. We don't have life all figured out, and we never will. We don't have all the answers to our faith either, though we diligently seek them. Yet sometimes we get so wrapped up in the seeking we don't live our lives. And somedays it truly does seem that life is "One step forward and two steps back~
This kind of dance can never last."
Life isn't easy. And it doesn't always make sense, that's for sure. I know in my own life there has been a lot more crawling than walking lately, a lot of knocking down. But I'm still picking myself up and going on, whether crawling or walking, in faith, and trust, believing it all fits into the big picture somehow. So, I'm gonna struggle back to my feet, and carry on with the dance. Even if I don't know the steps I can't be afraid to try; I can't just sit around waiting til I can do it perfectly. I'm not in control here. And I know sometimes it seems the older people are, the less likely they are to even understand that life is a dance, cuz they have been around the block and certainly have things all figured out; and wouldn't admit to it even if they didn't. But that is not me. I know I still need to be dancing on Daddy's shoes...

Holding back the sea

I went to the city with my friend Saturday. I just needed to be somewhere where things were bigger than me and my problems. Where energy pulsed around me and I could plug in to the vibrancy. I didn't care if it was day or night, sunny or rainy - or even where we went. I just needed to feel I was part of something bigger. I know I wasn't being still and listening. That's probably what I should have been doing. But instead I ran the other way. I circumvented what in the long run would have helped the most because I wanted instant gratification. I wanted to feel better quickly, never mind that it wouldn't last more than a day and I would need another fix. It was like plugging the hole in the dike with my finger. I held the flood at bay by filling the hole in me with movement, excitement, energy, passion, delight, exuberance, joie de vivre. It worked. I felt good from head to toe. Until my finger couldn't stem the flow any longer and it burst through the dam as it was bound to do because of the way I tried to make things better. I need to quit running and listen. Even if it takes time to hear that still small voice again. Even if I don't like what I hear. I need to fix it the way God intends. I need to fill the hole with his finger - not mine.

EDIT:
Twyla reminded me of this song....Petula Clark's great escape to the city.... Yep, that was me all right! Check it out.....
Downtown

The fish question is beside the point....

I have been thinking about Jonah lately. I always thought I knew what Jonah was about - you know, the basic obedience thing. But lately a new aspect of Jonah has occurred to me, one that hits me harder than the obedience issue. It's a more subtle problem, but I know when I think about it I am so guilty of being like Jonah. It occurred to me that Jonah's reason for running from God was not as obvious as "I just don't want to go"," it's inconvenient" whatever. It was the fact that Jonah wanted to do God's job and decide who was and who was not acceptable for the kingdom. He just plain didn't like the Ninevites. He didn't want to go because he was afraid God would forgive them and allow them to enter the Kingdom. Wow - that puts a whole new spin on things. Why don't I reach out to certain people? God loves us all equally and wants us all to be part of His kingdom. He loves my worst enemy, He loves people that hurt me. He loves people that do serious wrong in the world. He loves the inmate on death row, He loves the terrorist. I don't love them. I want revenge, I want them to get what they have coming, unless of course it's God's love and forgiveness! That's a pretty sobering thought. And it turns concepts like capital punishment upside down. I don't get to decide! I don't get to choose! I don't get to play God. I think we get so wrapped up in the story of Jonah, and whether it really happened or not that we miss the point. Or we look at the obvious symbolism of the three days, death and resurrection and don't look any deeper. We don't see God is concerned with everyone not just those who are worthy of His concern. And we don't realize that in our selfishness we don't want God's concerns to be our own. As Mark Buchanan puts it: "It's hard to draw close to God...when He so clearly doesn't cherish what we cherish or hate whom we hate - who doesn't share our fetishes or grievances or prejudices...when He's not safe. It's hard to obey a God like that." In incarnation He stands beside us no matter who we are and what we've done, whether we deserve it or not. Whether we are the sinner or the Pharisee, the redeemed or the bitter unbeliever. The point of Jonah in my life today? I just need to quit running and let God be God. I need to quit complaining and sulking and judging and learn the lesson of Jonah; God is concerned with all mankind. Even those who are a thorn in my side and don't see things the same way I do. And most importantly, He is not willing that any should perish. I am such a slow learner!

Further lessons from Emma

It's amazing what babies can teach you. Emma is ready to crawl. She wants to get around. She wants to explore, to be able to get to her parents, whatever. And so she is up on all fours rocking. Rocking, rocking, going nowhere - just frustrating herself. Pitching forward on her nose, or in defeat dropping to her belly and scooting. All she has to do is lift up her little hand and move it forward, lift up her little knee and do the same. But she doesn't get it.
Ok - parallel to my life. Here I am, rocking on all fours, ready to go, frustrated with where I am. Wanting to be closer to God, wanting to explore all He has for me. And yet, I keep rocking, forgetting that in order to move forward I have to pick my hand up off the safety of the ground and reach forward. I have to realize in order to move forward I have to take some risk. Make a conscious effort to follow the first letting go of my safe life and follow it with another release of the ground with another part of me too. Instead I just rock and rock and rock, occasionally pitching forward on my nose and crying in anger and frustration. Or I just drop to my belly and revert to embracing the safety of those ground things in my life even though it makes moving forward a hundred times harder. I move, but so slowly I don't get far before I give up, exhausted. Looks like we both have a challenge Emma - but somehow I have a feeling you'll figure it out before me.....

Emma's lesson....

So, today I was at Mike and Julie's helping paint their new house so they can move in next week. During one part of the day I was trying to calm Emma down. Poor baby - it was a rough day for her - unfamiliar surroundings, off schedule, over stimulated, and afraid to miss anything that might be happening - even for one little minute. Beyond tired and totally exhausted, she refused at times to be comforted, fighting sleep and refusing to give in to people who loved her, knew she needed her rest, and only wanted the best for her. As I stood rocking her, holding her close in my arms it hit me - I am so like a baby right now. I'm like Emma, I'm unfamiliar in my surroundings, my life is off kilter, I am over stimulated, and overwhelmed in my questioning and reading, yet I can't stop because I'm afraid I might miss something important. Something I need to know, something that is happening that I need to be a part of. And in my life I am totally exhausted, worn down, overwhelmed and frustrated. Yet I refuse to accept the solace, the comfort, the rest that my Heavenly Father, who loves me so much, who knows what is best for me, who wants me to rest in him, is offering. He is holding me in His arms and I am kicking and screaming and fighting those loving arms, trying to do it on my own. Not accepting His direction although He obviously knows what I need, what is best for me right now. And I am exhausting myself in my struggle, but I refuse to give in. How stubborn am I?
And the parallal between me and Emma is convicting to say the least. Now the question is, what am I going to do about it?

Passages

It's 9:04.
The sand is almost through the narrow neck of the hourglass, small grains dropping to completion. How can this be? As much as we knew this time was coming, who ever thought it would arrive? So final. So done. Time has escaped our grasp. Eluded our comprehension, our sensibilities.
Finality is denied. Hope is briefly entertained.
Reality intrudes yet again. A new chapter begins, wide open and expectant. Bittersweet.
Time, defiant, marches on.
Raindrops begin to fall.
Tears of God.