Tag Archives: Christ

Releasing my identity.

3 May

This post has been in the works for the past month. I’m sure I’ll discover more in the future that could be added to it.

It all started the day I was pondering why changing jobs made me feel like a completely different person. I was obviously still me – I’ll be me for all of eternity. But I felt different. I identified myself as a different person. Before, I worked in an office doing marketing for a nonprofit ministry. Now I worked at home coordinating volunteers and vendors for a nonprofit racing company.

I realized how much of our identities are dependent on and relative to external factors. When a person does engineering, they say “I am an engineer.” When a woman has a baby, she says “I am a mother.” When two people get married, they say “We are married.” In the Spanish language, there are 2 forms of the verb “to be” – there is the permanent, definitive form “ser” and there is the temporary, transient form “estar.” All of the sentences I wrote above would use the permanent form. “I am [these things]”, which is just another way of saying “These things are me.”

We define ourselves by external things, whether we want to or not. Even making the objection “I don’t define myself by external things” is defining yourself – you are identifying yourself as a person who does not identify themselves.

This is made even more evident when trying to ponder what you think makes up your identity. How do you identify yourself? Some people would say “I’m a friend, a brother, a boyfriend.” Relationships to other people. Other people would say “I’m smart, energetic, playful, and funny.” But without examples of stupidity, laziness, seriousness, and boring in other people or situations, we would have nothing on which to gauge our individual attributes. Still other people would revert to their careers, (“I’m a lawyer”), their hobbies (“I’m a golfer”), their possessions (“I’m a millionaire”), their prestige (“I’m a Harvard grad”), or their success (“I’m the youngest CEO in this company’s history.”) Notice how all of those statements are relative to something external.

Try to think of something you could say about yourself that isn’t related to something outside of yourself. Even statements about emotions you embody, like “I am compassionate,” can only be true as they find expression outside of yourself. You can say you’re compassionate – but it is not proven until you are compassionate toward someone else.

When D and I were in Salt Lake City 2 weekends ago, we got lost driving from our hotel to the race site. I usually know which direction is north, but I had gotten totally turned around. What I thought was north actually was south. D suggested we just follow the directions I had written down instead of trying to figure out which direction was which. I got really offended and even at the time, I knew it was a silly thing to be mad over. Looking back on it later, I realized that being good with directions (not just ones from Google but the compass directions) was part of my identity. I had been subconsciously thinking of myself “I am good with directions and can find my way around easily.” When that identity was questioned or threatened, I got defensive and angry.

Since that trip, numerous other situations have revealed facets of my so-called identity – facets I didn’t even know about, facets that only reveal themselves when challenged, threatened or belittled.

I have become increasingly aware of the reason why the Bible commands us to find our identity in Christ. God knows that we, as humans, naturally find our identities outside of ourselves. We use the world around to us to figure it out. Even as Christians, God doesn’t expect us to figure out who we are by ourselves, by looking inside of us. Instead, He tells us who we are. He shows us whose we are. And He tells us to find our identities in Christ.

What does that mean – to find our identity in Christ? It’s one of those phrases that is thrown around a lot and I wonder how many people pause long to think about the meaning of what they’re saying. I think finding your identity in Christ means to let every other definition of yourself die, so that the only one remaining is that of a sinner saved by grace. If indeed that was the only definition you were clinging to, there would be nothing in this world that could shake you, disturb you, frustrate you, or disappoint you.

My struggle with feeling like I should be doing more than I am doing and my resulting feelings of guilt, I think, come from wanting to identify myself as a person who makes a difference. I am trying to make my identity be something other than Christ and of course, am encountering emotional turmoil. That is the sure result of ever trying to identify ourselves with something other than Christ.

Right now, I am re-reading Desiring God by John Piper and then I am going to re-read We Would See Jesus. Two amazing books full of the exact truths that I need to hear right now. Here is one of the life-changing passages from We Would See Jesus, that especially applies to my feeling of needing to serve:

“At first sight it seems heroic to fling our lives away in the service of God and of our fellows. We feel it is bound to mean more to Him than our experience of Him. Service seems so unselfish, whereas concentrating on our walk with God seems selfish and self-centered. But it is the very reverse. The things that God is most concerned about are our coldness of heart towards Himself and our proud, unbroken natures…

“This does not mean that God does not want us engaged actively in His service. He does; but His purpose is often far different from what we think. Our service, in His mind, is to be far more the potter’s wheel on which He can mold us than the achieving of those spectacular objectives on which we set our hearts.”

Piper echoes this sentiment – that we exist to glorify God and we glorify God by enjoying Him. “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him.” When we are satisfied in Christ being our only identity. When we have to hold onto nothing of this world to validate who we are. We don’t have to have the right job, the right clothes, car, body, hair, face, talent, personality, friends, hobbies, or service.

This is most liberating thought in the world to me. I can enjoy movies, flowers, thunderstorms, ice cream, good books, warm blankets, lazy Sundays, and my wonderful husband because they all reveal God to me. He is present in everything. I am here to know God and to enjoy Him. And only one thing is sufficient for defining myself: I am a sinner, saved by grace alone through Christ alone.

I still want to serve the needy somehow. But the feeling of guilt is gone. I am not just here to make this world a better place – I am here to know God and can do that in many different ways. I am a treasure to God, regardless of what I do for His kingdom. He just wants me to know and love Him about everything else. And when that is my focus, everything else feels manageable. He alone is my reward and my prize.

In light of eternity…

12 Jan

I wish I could turn my brain off. I wish I could stop analyzing. Stop comparing. Stop condemning. Myself, that is.

You see, I walk around with this shadow of guilt sitting on my shoulder. I haven’t done anything wrong… but then, I haven’t done anything right either. I’m mediocre, stuck in the middle. One of the masses. Your average Joe…Joette?

And I want to be fine with that. I used to be fine with that. I’m not the kind of person who needs the infamy of the limelight. I am content in the background, supporting, organizing, planning.

But there’s this restlessness in my head that just won’t let me be content with my life. I keep seeing the ways I could be better, ways I’m not measuring up. Ways I should be different.

A leadership book I’m reading says I should accept myself. “How does a Christian do that?” I wonder. “Is that even a biblical principle?” I dare say it’s not…

At least not totally.

What does Paul mean when he says “Nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh.” I think he means exactly what he says. There is nothing good in him.

Does that sound like self-acceptance?

No.

Hmmm… then what? Jesus said in John 10:10 that He came so that we might have life, and to the fullest. Pray tell, where do I find that life?

Some would say the fullest life is found in self-acceptance. But I’ve tried that and found that there’s really nothing much in me worth accepting.

The trite (though true) Christian answer: the gospel.

But what does that mean? The terminology is thrown around so much that I think a telling head nod and eyebrow rise should go with it… you know, the gospel?  What they don’t explain, though, is how does the gospel give us life and life to the fullest? Because I understand the gospel, at least in principle. But as of yet, I don’t think I’ve found the fullest life. At least, I can imagine a fuller one. I can imagine a lot of things. And therein lies my problem.

If you asked me why I’m discontent with my life, and what I thought I should/could do to make it “better,” my answer would be something like, “Well, I feel like I should be making a difference, more giving of my time, more generous with my money, less lazy with my evenings, more productive with my weekends, more loving toward my husband and more enjoying of my life.”

So you ask, why don’t you do those things then?

Good question.

Self, why don’t I do those things?

::Silence.::

I guess you’ll have to check back later.

But I had the insight as I was driving home from work tonight, that it’s all because of eternity. Living in light of eternity is always presented in a positive light as something Christians should do. We’re reminded about it so often because our natural tendency is to live for the present only and forget that we’re going to heaven when we die and that our actions here do matter for eternity.

But you know what, I think that my initial inclination was wrong. I thought I was too concerned with eternity, so much so that I couldn’t live in the present without feeling the “weight of glory” on my shoulders, as C.S. Lewis puts it. But actually, I think that I, too, am only concerned with the present. Whereas most people’s inclination is to lose touch with the fact that their present actions have eternal ramifications and they just go about their day without thinking, I can’t seem to move off of that notion. I am consumed with thinking that everyday, eternity is being written. This is my one life…

And this is how I’m spending it.

Just as I longed for the days of unanalyzed eating in the midst of my calorie counting obsession, I now long for the days of unanalyzed living.

I can’t wait for eternity.

The best me

15 Jun

Lately, I have felt discombobulated and unlike myself. I’ve lost all desire to cook and grocery shop. I don’t even have much energy to make more than a bowl of cereal to eat. I feel lazy when it comes to reading the Bible and other books. I’d rather sleep in than work out in the morning and I update my triathlon blog more out of guilt than excitement.

What happened? I got off track. My schedule got derailed and I haven’t been able to re-rail it. Instead of following a predictable order, my day is a jumble of necessities, thrown together in a haphazard manner.

It’s at times like this that I have two main thoughts running through my mind. One, I envy people who have the same routine day after day, year after year. How do they stay “on track” amidst the chaos of life? I can get into a routine for about a week and then something happens that knocks everything off kilter and I have to find a new routine (which only lasts for a week before being replaced by a new one). I had gotten in to a routine of getting in the Word during lunch. All it takes is a day when I have to skip my lunch to take Travis to the airport and before I know it, 4 days have gone by without my getting in the Word.

Two, I am amazed by people who work full-time, have families, volunteer in their community, serve at church, and bake cookies for sick children at the hospital. Ok, I’ll be honest. I don’t actually know anyone like that. But I do know several busy people. My older brother Brian for one. It seems like he always has 50 different projects going on at once. I don’t know how he stays sane amidst it all. I wouldn’t even say that I have a busy life and I struggle with keeping it all together.

Which makes me wonder, where does all my time go? Especially lately, with the triathlon training. I feel inadequately disciplined to get everything done that I think I should be doing. Like my New Year’s Resolutions? For the past several months, even just getting time in the Word has been a struggle, let alone listening to a sermon outside of church, memorizing verses, and praying regularly. As I list all those things, I know ways that I could squeeze them into my day. But when I get busy, I tend to get lazy. I push things off with the excuse “I’m too tired.”  

Anyway, I did not mean this post to be a lament at how much I fail at achieving my own goals. Rather, I meant it to be a reflection on what I am learning about myself. I am not a person who sticks to a routine. I am not anal about my schedule and I can be steered from my pattern very easily. I don’t have an obsessive personality so I will never truly excel at one specific thing. Rather, I will be more of a Jack of All Trades, being mediocre at many things. And I’m ok with that.

I’m also learning that God did create me to be a busy person. That’s not my personality, natural inclination, or even my gifting. I can handle busyness for only so long before I have a breakdown and cry for at least an hour (which happened many times in college). I am not a person who likes or can handle having every second of every day crammed with activity, meetings, friends, To-Do’s, and errands. I need down time. I need time to read, exercise, take naps, blog, and veg in front of the TV.

For so long I have seen these traits in myself and wanted to change them. Why can’t I be more disciplined? Why can’t I stick to a routine against all odds? Why can’t I work full time and have 5 different extracurricular activities? Why can’t I work full time and have even one?

I’m not trying to sell myself short but I don’t want to insist that I be someone I’m not before I believe that I’ve reached my “true potential.” It’s a fact that I will never be a social butterfly, never be the person who meets random strangers everywhere I go and have thousands of acquaintances. That’s not who I am. 

It’s so easy to get trapped into thinking that as a Christian, I have to act and be like other Christians. The president of the ministry I work for is a very outgoing (some would say obnoxious) person, sharing the gospel with complete strangers constantly. I admire his extroversion because I am not. And while I know that my introversion is sometimes sinful, I don’t believe that I have to become extroverted in order to be an effective witness.

What I want to know is how I can be the best me, not attempt to a version of someone else. God created me the way I am, including my whimsicalness and propensity for relaxation, for a reason. As a woman made in God’s image, I showcase His glory in a unique way, in a way that people with routines and busy lives don’t (and they showcase His glory in their own unique way too, as long as they’re believers). Instead of fighting who I am, or striving to be someone I am not, I want to embrace who I am and what I’m like. I want to use it to glorify God and not lament who He created me to be. I want to reach my full potential, as I am, and not waste the precious time and personality He has given me.

How easy it is for Satan to get ahold of our minds and make us discontent by getting us to envy someone else who we think is better/prettier/skinnier/wealthier/happier!! Just tonight I was jealous because Travis is a better biker than me, even though I’ve been training for a tri for the past 3 months and he has ridden a bike once in the past year. My sinful flesh screamed “It’s not fair!! Why can’t I be better than him for once?” Similarly, with all the exercise I’ve been doing, I get frustrated that I’m not miraculously losing weight. “It’s not fair! Why can’t I just be thin for once?”

Loving Father that He is, God turns me back to Himself time and time again. “Kathy, that is not where happiness lies. Even if you were to be better than Travis and have a flat stomach, you would still desire something more. I am that Something More. I am the fulfillment of the yearning in your heart. Me and Me alone.”

Praise the Father for His faithfulness and steadfastness! How reassuring to know that He is the same yesterday, today, and tomorrow. I change moment to moment, never sticking to a routine or schedule, but He never changes. He is perfect so I don’t have to be.

“Though I be dry and barren

By grace this love springs forth

Love for You and Your kingdom

Joy in Your glory Lord.”

 

“Jesus my only hope, my only plea,

My righteousness, My Great High Priest,

Who intercedes before the throne,

Jesus I trust in You alone!”

The Freestyle Christian Life

29 Apr

As I was spending time in the Word yesterday morning, I came up with a great idea for a blog post: Learning to swim freestyle is like learning to live the Christian life.

Let me explain.

I have been training for my first sprint triathlon for about a month now (only 2.5 more to go!) While I pretty much have the bike and run licked (did my first brick workout today…a bike and run right after one another…they call it a brick because that’s what your legs feel like when you run after biking!), swimming has been and still is a major challenge.

For many more reasons than I care to explain to those of you who may not be acquainted with swimming terms, form and technique, learning to swim the freestyle stroke (a.k.a. the front crawl) is like learning to run on all fours…humans just weren’t designed to do it.

Especially me.

My hips don’t float. Even with fins on. I can’t go longer than 25 yards (one length of the pool) at a time. Every time I get to the end of the pool, I ask myself, “WHAT am I doing wrong?!?!?” I feel like I’m treading water…literally. I’m going that slow.

So what does all that have to do with learning to live the Christian life, you ask? The apostle Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 12, “But [Jesus] said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamitites. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

When I get frustrated or sorrowful over my sin, it’s not really because of the offense against God. It’s because I messed up again. I couldn’t cut it. I tried to will myself to be loving, to act like Christ, but I failed. Miserably.

Often, I find myself wondering in regards to the Christian life and virtues, “What am I doing wrong?” I’m reading the Bible and seeking to understand the Gospel. I often have very encouraging, nourishing times with God, in which I feel like I have the beginnings of understanding the gospel, yet I can walk away from those encounters and within seconds, be uncontrollably angry at Travis. The Bible says “Be filled with the Spirit.” My mind says, “Yes, but HOW?”

Part of me understands that my being filled with the Spirit is God’s doing. The other part of me wonders when, if and how God plans on doing it.

After reading those verses written by Paul in 2 Cor. 12, I think I have a tiny little insight into the HOW.

Paul writes about being weak. Whether he means physically weak or spiritually weak, it doesn’t matter. Because he also talks about insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. Those are all external realities. There is no spiritual, internal persecution. It comes from other people.

I have internal and external troubles as well…but can’t say that I am content with them. In fact, it’s just the opposite. I try to avoid them at all costs. I get angry when things aren’t moving smoothly, when there are hiccups and bumps in the road. That’s because my 2 biggest idols are: 1) getting my own way and 2) happiness.

My idols are sort of inter-related but not quite the same thing. When I have troubles like Paul is describing (whether they be my own weaknesses and sin or an external situation that I can’t fully control), it interferes with my ability to have things go my way. When my boss at work tells me that something has to be done differently, I get angry because either I don’t want to do it that way or I don’t want to do it over. When Travis wants to talk about money and mortgages and I want to blog instead, I get angry because he is interfering with my personal determination of how I will spend my free time.

The way my idol of happiness ties into getting my way is that deep down, I fear not getting my way because I fear being unhappy. I don’t trust that God has my best interests in mind and that I can trust Him with my everyday circumstances and situations…even those as mundane as Travis wanting to talk AGAIN about what we plan to buy with our tax credit.

Where my idol of happiness is different than that of getting my way is in relation to my sin. When I abruptly get angry at Travis for no reason, I am just as frustrated at my being angry as I am actually angry. When Travis annoys me and I feel like raging on him, I despair and wish that I could go even a day without feeling annoyance toward him.

But the thing is, I don’t want to make my “wrong” emotions go away because I want to glorify God–though that certainly is involved. Rather, I want them to go away because I want my life to be easy. I don’t want to have to deal with those emotions and the situations they bring up. I don’t want to have to feel and stifle my anger, frustration and rage. I would much rather take a hands-off approach, which explains why Travis is always wanting more physical attention than I do–the way I look at it is less physical contact means fewer problems. And I just want to be happy already.

Maybe at this point you’re seeing a slight tie-in to swimming but not really understanding where I’m going with it. Well, with swimming, I have been trying and trying to get better. I have read books, watched videos, talked to friends, done drills, and even practiced in my sleep (that is unfortunately not a joke). In the case of getting my hips to float, I know what I’m doing wrong…but I don’t know how to fix it. In the case of being completely out of breath after one length, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong…but it’s obviously something.

I feel like that a lot with the Christian life. In the case of getting frustrated with my boss and my husband when I’m not getting my way, I know what I’m doing wrong. I can look back on those situations and see what I was feeling, understand why I felt that way and remind myself of truth. In the case of my being annoyed at Travis spontaneously and without discernable cause, I don’t know what I’m doing wrong…but I have the physical evidence that indeed, something is amiss. And yet, in both cases, regardless of whether I know what I’m doing wrong or not, my knowledge doesn’t seem to translate into action. I’m just left out of breath after short stints of trying to live the Christian life, hanging on to the wall and wondering “What am I doing wrong?”

But all this is assuming that I have to find the power inside myself to change the situation. That I have to be self-sufficient. That I have to make myself float instead of allowing the water around and under me to lift me up.

I don’t have to do any of those things.

If I never struggled, if I did indeed have everything under control, I would have no need for Christ. I wouldn’t need to rely or call upon God for strength and peace. 

Too often, instead of taking Paul’s attitude to troubles, I let my trials derail me and turn me from God. In those moments of struggle and inner turmoil, I think to myself, “How could God help me with this?” or “Yeah, I know I’m being moody and sinful right now, but truth just doesn’t feel relevant to me in this situation” or “I’m too tired to try and change my attitude.”

But these verses in 2 Corinthians 12 reveal that I don’t have to be more patient, more loving, more peaceful, gentler in myself–I only have to find those things in Christ and let them live in me. I don’t have to dig deep down inside myself to find real honesty, real love, real peace, real joy–or lament when I can find none–because I can borrow Christ’s. His is real all the time.

Being a Christian doesn’t mean I just become a better version of myself. It doesn’t mean I just have to get rid of all my vices and failures and develop all the virtues. It means that I actually become a version of Christ–it is His Spirit living in me after all. And His Spirit is what changes me. It’s not me forcing, willing myself to be different, to change. It’s God working in me to enable me to do things I couldn’t or wouldn’t have done otherwise.

My analogy between swimming and the Christian life kind of breaks down here…there is no spirit of swimming that will enable me to magically master the front crawl (though I so wish there were!!)

But what an amazing reassurance it is to know that I don’t have to be sufficient in and of myself when it comes to being Christ-like. Because if it’s all up to me, I will be constantly treading water, out of breath, and barely keeping myself afloat. When I don’t have patience, I can borrow Christ’s. When I don’t have joy, I can borrow Christ’s. When I don’t feel like I have the strength to keep on, I can borrow Christ’s.

Just a few verses to summarize/legitimize what I just wrote:

Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy & beloved, compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience…” Colossians 3:12

“I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me.” Galatians 2:20

“…the joy of the LORD is your strength.” Nehemiah 8:10

Faithful with the small things

18 Apr

Just a few weeks ago, I was sitting in bed accusing God of being silent about my life and what He wanted from me. The verse that crumbled my anger that night was 1 Thessalonians 5:24, “He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it.”

He is faithful indeed.

Since that night, when I realized I had been measuring my life by what I do for God rather than by what He has done for me, I have felt like every message, discussion, song, and verse has been tailored for me, meeting me right where I am and giving me the exact encouragement I need in that moment.

Like last week, our care group discussion was about how Christians can make a radical difference in very “un-radical” circumstances. How do we live so that others notice we are different than the world? Very interesting conversation indeed.

My study of Romans has shown me that God had a purpose for my life even before the foundation of the world.

The book I’m reading, You Matter More Than You Think: What Every Woman Needs to Know About the Difference She Makes by Dr. Leslie Parrott, has reinforced what I have been learning about what makes life significant and meaningful.

And then Greg’s message last Wednesday during chapel was about how to continuously improve, not just in our spiritual lives but in our everyday lives.

Since all of these sources have impacted the thoughts running around in my head lately, this post may seem a jumbled mess of ah-ha moments. I will try to communicate as logically as my brain thinks (that’s a joke…)

In the post following my aforementioned revelation, I typed out a conversation I had had with God that morning. As a person who is usually skeptical of anything super-spiritual like hearing God actually speak, I have wondered if those words were contrived out of my own mind or if it was really God. While it did sound like me talking to myself in my head, the answers were immediate and formed like a response to my question. So I have to assume that the Holy Spirit was at least involved.

Because I like the conversation so much, I’m going to cut and paste it again here:

“But God, I still want my life to matter,” I said.

“My child, it already matters. I was willing to send my only Son to die for you and your life,” God replied.

“But I still want to do big things for you.”

“I know, Kathy, I know you do. Just be patient. I’ll open the doors for you.”

“So what do I do in the meantime?”

“Live your life for me and for others.”

“What does that look like?”

“Draw close to me and you’ll see.”

That little line “Live your life for me and others” is the key to a meaningful life, I believe. I think back over all the things I’ve struggled with over the past year or so…being convicted that I don’t share my faith enough, being self-conscious and lonely living in a new state, feeling lazy and self-centered in my hobbies and free time, wanting to see a tangible way that I am making a difference. All are solved by living a life of love for God and for others.

In her book, Leslie Parrott writes, “One of the fundamental truths I’ve learned about making a difference on this planet is that the road less traveled is not actually found in Calcutta or on the mean streets with the down and out. The road less traveled is ultimately found in the heart. It’s found in the heart of every woman who wants her life to make a difference and realizes that the difference is found, quite simply, in love. You walk the road less traveled whenever and wherever you bring more grace, compassion, understanding, patience, and empathy. More love. Why? Because a life of love is rare” (22-23).

Women, by nature, are designed to be relational and nurturing. We are designed to be intimate, intuitive, and loving. We are detail-oriented so that we can notice changes in a friend’s mood, sense a child’s hurt spirit, or remember our husband’s favorite dessert. We are multi-taskers so that we can run households full of children, dirty laundry, piles of dishes, and meals to cook.

But women can also feel incredibly under-appreciated. Though my husband does a wonderful job of thanking me for cleaning and cooking, I still have those moments when he does something inconsiderate (in my eyes) without his being aware of it. I have discovered the truth in Leslie Parrott’s words, “A woman’s pain either makes her bitter or makes her better.” And how do we women use pain or suffering to make us better instead of bitter? Gratitude.

A few more phrases from Leslie’s book: “…The more gratitude I cultivate for the suffering I endure, the less tethered I am to its weight…Gratitude unlocks a loving heart…The more gratitude you cultivate, the more grace you have for others…Grace and humility are two key components of gratitude and essential ingredients of love.”

[Good stuff, no?]

So the way I bring the most glory to God is by loving the people in my life, the people I come in contact with every day. These principles about gratitude, grace, humility, and love are biblical: 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 says, “Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” 1 John 4:7 says, “Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God, and whoever loves has been born of God and knows God.”

I would be tempted to think “Ok, so now I know that I should be loving people. But who? And how?”

That was the question answered by Greg on Wednesday. In essence, the part of his  message that was most poignant to me was this: “Make the most of now. Be faithful with your slice of the kingdom pie, which is what God has called you to do right now. You may not be called to whatever you’re doing for the rest of your life, but it’s what you’re called to do now. We miss out on God’s future vision for us because we don’t make the best of our current situation. Be faithful now and God will open up other doors down the road.”

Amen, brother. This puts into words what God has put on my soul for the past several months. And reassures me that I am where I am for a reason. Right now, I am living God’s purpose for me. God has given me today. He has asked me to be faithful with this day. To strive with every fiber of my being to live a life of love in order to bring glory and honor to the name of Jesus.

Greg also talked about pain, like Leslie Parrott does in her book. She writes, “Ultimately, the pain we carry in our hearts [or experience in our days] is the grinding stone that shapes us to love. It sharpens our capacity to be tender with another’s wounds and to empathize without judgment.” Greg said, “Pain is spiritual protein for us. It develops our spiritual muscles. So we should be grateful for every experience. If you are feeling frustrated at your job, slighted by someone, persecuted or mocked, the pain makes us stronger. Pain, it’s what’s for dinner.”

When I view struggles as contributing to my ability to love, then I can indeed be grateful for their presence in my life. And gratitude unlocks a loving heart.

I’ve already been able to put these realizations into action. Even though the non-profit ministry I work for is small (around 25 employees), there can be some tension between what we call the “sides” of the office (because we literally have 2 different offices that are across the hall from each other–admin/donors/events on one side, sales/marketing on the other side). After having some drama this past week between sides, I thought maybe Admin felt underappreciated, like the Mktg department always expects them to bend over backwards while jumping through hoops to do whatever we want done. So instead of getting angry and frustrated, or gossiping about how they’re not acting like Christians, I suggested our side throw their side an appreciation breakfast. Just so they know that we really couldn’t do what we do without them. My team liked the idea so Phil is going to bring it up to Debb and Jason (VP and Director of Sales). Hopefully it’ll work out…

Back to where I started

12 Feb

As I was pondering my marriage last night, and why I still struggle with feeling annoyed all the time at my husband’s displays of affection (which, for those who don’t know, include butt slapping, boob grabbing, tummy squeezing, and other things I won’t describe), I decided that the big virtue I’m missing is patience. The biggest reason why Travis annoys me is because I always feel bothered, interrupted. He’ll try to hug me in the middle of me doing the dishes. Or he’ll have to grab me while I’m drying my hair. My inner (and sometimes outer) voice asks, “Why can’t he just wait until I’m done?” Then I realize that I’m never “done,” especially in the morning. I always have an agenda, things I have on my mental tasklist. When I get in “Task Mode,” as I like to call it, I act like a bulldozer: “Get out of my way or I’ll run you over.”

When I was single and even while we were dating/engaged, I had plenty of “me time,” time when I could be as efficient and task-oriented as I wanted to be. I didn’t have to stop for or be interrupted by anyone wanting attention, as Travis so often does.  

My problem is that I am always kind of in that mode. I am an efficient, task-oriented person. It is not like me to dawdle, lag, or lollygag. I don’t even know if I can do those things. Travis, on the other hand, is a more relaxed person. The only time I can imagine him being in Task Mode is when he’s out in the garage, working on whatever he works on out there. (And during those times, I hardly ever bother him, and I never bother him for hugs and kisses because he’s dirty and sweaty!!) Most of the time, Travis is watching TV, reading, looking up sports scores (a mind-numbing activity if you ask me), or researching random things on the internet. He hardly ever minds when I interrupt him and even less so if it’s for physical affection.

So I see that I need patience and humility. I realized last Saturday that I had been subconsciously demanding everything be my way or the highway (but really, I want it to be my way). When we first moved out to Colorado, I had done a one-day, skimming-the-surface topical study on each Fruit of the Spirit. So last night I looked up my journal entry on patience. And there it was, clear as day:

“To be patient and endure undesirable circumstances, I must be humble. I must renounce all my claims to have things, people, and situations be what I want them to be.

That was written on November 12, 2007.

WHAT?!?!? I knew that back THEN and am only realizing it again NOW, a year and a half later? That was exactly what I realized on Saturday and there it was, sitting in my journal all this time. I’m back to where I started.

I am thankful today that God is faithful and most of all, patient. He waited until I was ready to surrender my own efforts and rely on Him to remind me of this truth, a truth that I happened upon unexpectedly 15 months ago.

Beautiful Lord

11 Feb

We just got out of chapel (the ministry I work at has chapel every Wednesday) and this song that I had never heard before really sums up what I’ve been feeling and learning lately:

Beautiful Lord

When the storm is raging all around me
You are the peace that calms my troubled sea
When the cares of this world darken my day
You are the light that shines and shows me the way

 
Oh the beauty of your majesty,
On the cross You showed Your love to me

 
Beautiful Lord–awesome and mighty
I’m captured by this love I see
Beautiful Lord–tender and holy
Your mercy brings me to my knees
It’s Your mercy that has made me free
Beautiful Lord

 
When my sin is all that I can see
Your grace remains the shelter that I seek
And when my weakness is all I can give
Your gentle Spirit gives me strength again

 
And I am lifted by Your love to save
It’s Your mercy that has made me free
And I am lifted by Your love to sing
It’s Your mercy that has made me free

Life according to Woody Allen…

16 Aug

I just read this article about Woody Allen in the latest Newsweek. My heart breaks for him! A director who has had an amazing career but he says that he still makes movies “not because he has any grand statement to offer, but simply to take his mind off the existential horror of being alive.”

“I can’t really come up with a good argument to choose life over death. Except that I’m too scared,” Allen says.

Later on in the article, Woody Allen is quoted as saying, “Your perception of time changes as you get older, because you see how brief everything is. You see how meaningless…I don’t want to depress you, but it’s a meaningless little flicker…You have a meal, or you listen to a piece of music, and it’s a pleasurable thing. But it doesn’t accrue to anything.”

As I read that article, I was reminded of something I wrote in high school. For several years before I became a Christian, I really struggled with the meaning and purpose of life. If I had not become a Christian after my sophomore year of college, I have no doubt that I would resonated with Woody Allen’s sentiments very much.

This is what I wrote in my diary when I was a junior in high school: “There are no other words that I can think of to describe life other than futile and worthless. Really, when you think about it, what the hell are all of us doing here? We go through school, which everyone despises but supposedly it’s ‘beneficial.’ We get a career, which most people hate and they end up wasting their lives on things that don’t really matter. So what the hell are we doing? Sure there are some good times, fond memories. But they all end. Everything good or worth anything ends at one point. Nothing can be relied upon. You may think that you have your life figured out and everything may be peachy keen for a while. But just wait and see–life will throw you a curveball, guaranteed. There is absolutely no doubt that your life will truly suck. And not just once. Repeatedly, over and over. You know why? Because life’s a bitch and then you die.”

By the end of my senior year of high school, this is what I thought: “I know that I have felt–and still remotely feel–that the good things in life seem to be constantly squashed by the shit. But I have also realized that while some good things are temporary, so are the bad things. Nothing in life is ever definite, without the possibility of it being changed.”

Which is all fine and good that I held that quasi-belief then but it still didn’t answer my question: What the hell are we all doing here? I still didn’t have a purpose to my life, no meaning. Until I became a Christian, my life was all about pleasure and rebellion. I smoked pot, got wasted, and slept around because it was wild and free. There were no rules.

But my sophomore year of college, I started rethinking my take on life. I wasn’t happy. I was miserable. My life consisted of surviving each week to get to the weekend and then being so hammered and stoned all weekend that I didn’t remember half of it anyway. I thought to myself, “Is this ALL there is to life? This is IT?” I think Woody Allen started in that place–but he’s questioned it for so long with no answers that he has resigned himself to “This IS all there is and life is SHIT. I would kill myself but I don’t have the guts.” That is truly tragic. And I am sure that he is not alone in his feelings. I think it is common for atheists to feel that way (but most likely not that intense).

Without Christ, life is meaningless. Because only the Creator of the world can tell us what it all means, the reason why we’re all here. That was what drew me to Jesus in the first place–He was something to live for. I finally had something to live for, something to build my life around. I finally had a purpose. Reason #456,278 why I am so glad and thankful that God called me to be His.

My little bro’s wedding

15 Aug

He did it–he finally got married. And to his high school sweetheart no less. He was the one I always told “You’re never going to get married!” because he was glued to his computer chair in front of his computer screen every waking moment during high school that he wasn’t actually at school. But somehow Meg saw through that pathetic exterior to the kind-hearted, intelligent, witty guy my little brother really is. (And he’s gotten a lot cooler over the past 4 years as well–college did wonders for him).

As I stood up with the wedding party during the ceremony and watched Chris smile at Meg, full of love and excitement, I couldn’t help but think back to my oldest brother’s wedding 2 years ago. Back then, I knew that I wanted to marry Travis but we weren’t even engaged and I don’t think I quite understood the beauty and complexity of the pledge they were making to each other in that moment. I was moved far more during Chris and Meg’s wedding, not because they had a better officiant, music, or readings–Jeremy and Jen had a very lovely wedding as well (and I ALMOST cried at their wedding but I held it off!)–but because my understanding is greater. I have an inside appreciation and respect for the marriage commitment and lifelong intimacy–and I’ve only been married for a little over a year! I can’t imagine what it must be like for those married 25, 35, even 50 years (like my aunt and uncle will celebrate this fall).

I also prayed for Chris and Meg as I stood there. Marriage is a blessing but it’s also a challenge. And I really believe that the only way any of us don’t get divorced–or even seriously think about it–is by the grace of God. We don’t have love naturally as humans. Rather, we are naturally selfish, petty, and angry. And marriage has this uncanny ability to bring out the natural side of someone–just ask my husband. I will be honest that there were times during our first year when I wanted to give up–not in the “I want a divorce” sense but in the “This is too hard” sense. But time and time again–and don’t ask me how–God renewed me through the reminder of my marriage vow, that this was for life and that included the really hard times. Praise be to the Lord that He got us through those times and if you read this post, you know that I am out of the weird funk I was in and am loving and appreciating my husband more than ever before.

I pray the same for Chris and Meg. I pray that their marriage is centered upon and rooted in Christ–because human love isn’t enough to hold together over the years. The divorce rate in the U.S.–even among proclaimed evangelicals–will prove that. They need to run to God for satisfaction first and then they will be able to be content with each other. Because if you depend on that person for satisfaction, you are going to be let down again…and again…and again. They weren’t designed or meant to have that kind of responsibility. Jesus was and is meant to.

And I pray that they have a long life of love and intimacy together. I can see them being the old couple that still kisses and hugs and acts all lovey-dovey after they’ve been together 55 years. But I’m wise enough to not be presumptuous. Such a thing is a gift from God. All married couples need prayer. The biblical marriage dynamic of leadership and submission is so distorted and unnatural (I speak from personal experience) that God needs to be present and working in marriages for it to glorify Him and to accurately represent Christ and His love for the church.

Marriage really is a wonderful thing–so here’s to you Chris and Meg. May God bless your marriage. Enjoy your life together and don’t take it for granted.

Chris and Meg at their wedding

Chris and Meg at their wedding

Travis and me

Travis and me

The other bridesmaids--Meg's 3 sisters and her friend from middle school

The other bridesmaids

What it means to be born again

29 Mar

A couple weeks ago, I went through this period of spiritual doubt. I had a hard time understanding why the Christian life works. Whenever I heard stories about people giving up addictions because Jesus freed them, I thought, “How is Jesus enough for them?” When I hear of people who are going through a rough time of trials and they say they’re hoping in God, I wonder, “How does the knowledge of God aid them in their despair? How is it enough that God is a stronghold? Why does it matter that God cares for me? That I’m released from the bondage of sin? If I’m having a hard day at work and pray to God for strength, how does my prayer really matter? How does it change my circumstances? Why do I need to rely on God? What does relying on God do for me? Is it even possible to do? If I say that I’m relying on God and drawing down strength from Him, does He really do anything for me? Or are those words just a human attempt to make life a little easier, to make hard times a little better, to deceive ourselves that ‘everything is going to work out for our good’ when the dice could really fall either way?”

I guess you could sum up my doubts in one question: “How does my relationship with God affect my life beyond salvation?”

As I was journaling about these thoughts on March 15th, I had been reading Romans 7 where Paul says that we are released from the Law “so that we serve not under the old written code but in the new life of the Spirit.” And as I pondered that verse, I realized that the key to the Christian life, the thing that makes it “work,” is the Spirit. Without the Spirit, I am the same person before and after conversion. But with the Spirit, I am changed. “It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me.”

My mind was comforted after that revelation given to me through none other than the Spirit. But what brought this again to my attention was something Pastor John Piper said in his sermon called The New Birth Produces Love. This is what he said: “As we enter Holy Week, the aspect of the new birth that I want us to focus on is the fact that new birth creates the connection between God’s love for us and our love for each other. If anyone ever asks, How does the fact that God loves you result in your loving others? The answer is: the new birth creates that connection. The new birth is the act of the Holy Spirit connecting our dead, selfish hearts with God’s living, loving heart so that his life becomes our life and his love becomes our love.”

When I heard Piper say that, it validated my personal Bible study. I wasn’t deluding myself with soothing words and vain hopes. This is true and real. My nature really is changed after conversion and I am enabled to do things I couldn’t do before. The Spirit empowers me to live for Christ, to desire God, to conquer sin, to be loving, to desire godly, eternal things over worldly, temporal things.

This is the hope that we have in Christ: “In him you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed in him, were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance until we acquire possession of it, to the praise of his glory.” (Ephesians 1: 13-14)