Redemption

The passages in the Lectionary this week which inspired this post are Isaiah 49:1-7, Psalm 40:1-11, 1 Corinthians 1:1-9, and John 1:29-42. I hope you will read along and share the ways these scriptures spoke to you.

The story of redemption is so thrilling to me. 

I have this picture in my head of God concocting a plan that went above and beyond anyone's wildest dreams, with a gleam in his eye and a conspiratorial whisper to the prophets and his own Son about his plans for redemption of the whole world. Isaiah 49:6 says, "It is too light a thing that you should be my servant to raise up the tribes of Jacob and to bring back the preserved of Israel; I will make you a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth." 

After baptizing Jesus, John proclaimed that Jesus was "the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world." Even before Jesus' ministry began, John caught a glimpse of God's grand scheme, a plan that had been in the works since sin first became messily twisted into human nature. 

It was too light a thing to simply bring hope and salvation to his people, Israel. God decided to go even further than that, to bring hope and salvation to the world. 

The first chapter of 1 Corinthians declares that recipients of God's grace and forgiveness will stand guiltless before God. Of course, this is not because we are naturally without sin on our own, nor are we suddenly incapable of sin in light of our salvation. No, we are guiltless before God because Christ sustains us. Our guilt has been covered, is being covered, and will continue to be covered.

This is what inspires me to worship, and to speak of what God has done; I stand in awe of of the grace that has been given to me. I certainly do not deserve it on my own. I have another picture of God in my head, as a loving parent stooping down to gently wipe the dirt away from a small messy child who has stumbled and fallen yet again. My hands are dirty, yet they have been cleansed, and they continue to be cleansed. 

And in the process, my heart is continually transformed. God's law has been written on my heart-- a law that can be summed up with the directive to love God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength, and to love my neighbor as myself. And while this law does not do away with the propensity to sin that has been entangled in my very nature, the spirit of God himself whispers it to my heart daily, pointing me toward a different path and enabling me to choose it.

I don't always choose it. No, sometimes I choose poorly-- and boy, have I messed up over and over. And yet there is God again, holding out a loving hand, cleansing and forgiving me, pointing me always toward love, hope, and grace. He has a hold on my heart that the propensity for sin cannot undo, and for that I am grateful.

Faith Creeps In

This week's readings in the Lectionary are: Isaiah 42:1-9, Psalm 29, Acts 10:34-43, and Matthew 3:13-17. I hope you'll read along!

According to the liturgical calendar, we are now in the season of Epiphany. I am familiar with Advent, and of course Christmas, but I didn't know much about Epiphany. I wanted to understand the significance better, so I looked it up.

Basically, Epiphany celebrates the manifestation of God in human form through Jesus and focuses on the ways that Jesus was revealed to both the Jewish people and the Gentiles. (I'm sure there's much more to it that some readers could explain, but these seemed to me as though they were the major points. Readers, feel free to further elaborate in the comments!)

Epiphany will last until Lent begins in March. I'm excited to spend the next several weeks focusing specifically on God in human flesh-- and actually, I've done a bit of that already in my Christmas posts!

Isaiah 42:5 paints a beautiful image of God as the creator and giver of life, "who created the heavens and stretched them out, who spread out the earth and what comes from it, who gives breath to the people on it and spirit to those who walk in it." Furthermore, Psalm 29 specifically describes God's glory, strength, power, majesty, and holiness. This God-- this holy, powerful God-- chose to humble himself and come to us in human form through Jesus. God's spirit rested upon him, and anyone at all can be redeemed, regardless of who they are or what they have done.

Isn't that amazing?

However, since this is my blog, I'm gonna be really honest. As amazing as it is, it can also be hard to believe sometimes. Please don't misunderstand me here. My heart fully believes it to be true, but occasionally I have doubts. I think most people have this struggle at times, if they are being honest with themselves.

I told my brother recently that I have a faith crisis every six months or so. And honestly, that's pretty accurate. I wake up one morning and reflect on my beliefs, and all of a sudden I find myself thinking, "Whoa! That sounds crazy. What if it's not even true and I'm just nuts?"

Unfortunately, many times the church shuts people down when they express their doubts and questions. It is as though there is something to be feared about doubt; as if doubts will inevitably lead to renunciation of faith.

Actually, in my experience, my doubts and questions have always led me to a deeper faith.

When doubts creep in, so does faith. It's a hard answer sometimes, because of course some tangible, undeniable proof would be nice. But there is an element of faith that involves the things we cannot prove. For me, my heart just feels it and knows it to be true, even when it doesn't always make perfect sense in my head. And I have come to a point where I am okay with this supposed contradiction.

Yes, I do believe God came in the flesh. I believe he humbled himself to our level to make a way because he loves us. I believe in forgiveness, unmerited grace, redemption, and love. Even if it doesn't always make sense, my heart believes it to be true.

Themes

If you are interested in reading along, the passages from the lectionary that inspired this post are: Jeremiah 31:7-14, Psalm 147:12-20, Ephesians 1:3-14, and John 1:1-18. They can be read at http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=11. 

Scripture speaks of the same tendency over and over, a theme that seems inextricably woven into humanity: the tendency to veer quickly off course when left to one's own devices. Throughout the Old Testament, God revealed himself to the people of Israel-- his ways, his power, his provision, his righteousness, his love, his mercy, and his comfort. And yet continually, they turned away as soon as they lost focus on him.

Then God came in the flesh through Jesus, and still many of his own people did not recognize him. He embodied grace and truth; he gave them an example of what God is like. Yet they were so focused on their own expectations and traditions that when God himself walked among them, they rejected him.

But another theme is revealed throughout scripture: amidst the chaos and brokenness of the human condition, God loves so fiercely that he continually makes a way.

Heaven knows if I were God, I would eventually throw my hands up in disgust and give up on the whole mess. But that isn't who God is. I've heard so many negative statements about the Old Testament through the years. A punitive God, wars, bloodshed, and so on. But if you take a closer look, you see God's mercy and love revealed again and again. God doesn't give up on his people, no matter what. He promises to lead them back, to gather and keep them, to comfort them, to turn their mourning to joy, and to redeem them.

His love and provision are evident; his tenderness and mercy are always present. God doesn't give up; he makes a way because it is clear that they cannot do it without his help. 

And this is not just for the people of Israel. No, it is for anyone who will receive him. Despite our human tendency to miss God when he's right in front of us, he is able to shine through into our hearts so we can recognize him. And that, to me, is a beautiful mystery: it's not something we are able to do on our own; it is something that is done through his grace.

Ephesians speaks of receiving an inheritance, and the Holy Spirit is the down payment. This means that through God's grace, we have received even more than forgiveness; we have also received his spirit so we can live out his love and grace toward others. We won't do it perfectly, of course, because we are in fact still human. But we can do it; or rather, God can do it through us.

This leads me to seriously consider the ways in which God's spirit is evident in my life. Am I loving, joyful, peaceful, patient, kind, gentle? No, not always. And yet God remains merciful to me, and continues guiding and discipling me in love!

I'm unspeakably grateful for a loving God who lavishes us with grace. In his perfect love, he has cast out fear and he has made a way for us, a path of forgiveness, freedom, and mercy.

Grace

I am changing a diaper when I realize yet again how amazing God’s grace is.

God, in all his holiness and all his goodness, knew we could never meet his standards on our own. And rather than punish and condemn us, he helped us. He bridged the gap between us and himself. We are like little children, and he is the compassionate father who sees that we simply cannot do it on our own and reaches down to help us. We are the toddlers who cannot use the toilet, and he is the parent who gently cleans us and patiently teaches us a better way, helping us move toward the goal.

Because of the grace he gives me, the grace I have done nothing to earn, I am compelled to pass that same grace on to others. Scripture tells the story of the man whose enormous debt was forgiven, yet he went out and demanded smaller debts from other people. This is not the person I want to be. I have been forgiven for so much. I have been given so much grace. How can I possibly have the audacity to be unforgiving and not extend grace to others?

And while God’s grace does not punish us for being unable to meet his standards, neither does it nullify those standards. God is not a punitive God, nor is he permissive. As a parent, this speaks to me. If this is how God has chosen to treat me, his child, I want to do everything in my power to treat my children the same way. In doing so, I hopefully will show them a glimpse of what God is like-- his love for them, the grace he gives them. As someone who has been forgiven and redeemed, I hope God is reflected in all my relationships, including those with my children.

And yes, I fail at this regularly. But even in my failures, God has grace and forgiveness for me. As I walk with my children, meeting them where they are, he walks with me. And unlike me, he never fails. And I am so grateful. His love is amazing, indescribable, beautiful.

Eclipsed By Glory

During worship at church on Sunday morning, I felt the unmistakable presence of God. It wasn’t something flashy, fancy, or loud; just a quiet sense of peace. It’s hard to describe. It reminded me of the passage in 1 Kings where Elijah was waiting to hear from God, and there was a strong wind, an earthquake and a fire-- but God was in none of these. And after the fire came a gentle whisper.

After the third song, the music continued playing, and those who wanted to share their prayers or praise were free to speak. The first prayer request brought me to tears. I don’t even know the people who were being spoken of-- I have heard their names but we have never met-- yet the words that were said broke me, and I could not stop myself from crying. As others shared their prayer requests, I suddenly felt the heaviness of the pain and brokenness and suffering represented in the room.

I said nothing; I don’t think I could have said anything in that moment, honestly. I had no words. It is still hard to find the words for how I felt. It was as though all these feelings were rushing through me and I felt so much love and compassion for everyone in the room, and this deep sense of wanting to be there with people through their pain. Not necessarily to make it all better or fix everyone’s problems-- but to be there. To be a friend, to help them through it, to show them the love and compassion of Jesus.

The next song began, and we sang these words: All of a sudden, I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory. And I cried again. In that moment, I saw so clearly the beauty of God’s love and grace in comparison to our pain. We are afflicted, and he has such compassion for us. We are afflicted, and he walks alongside us. We are afflicted, and in the midst of all our pain, his grace is washing over us. Pain hurts, it is not fun-- and yet, even in the midst of pain, there is so much beauty. There is the opportunity for hope, redemption, and grace.

In the past, I have prayed to see people the way God sees them, to love people the way God loves them. And of course I am not arrogant enough to assume that I could ever see people exactly the same way God sees them, because I am not God. But I do believe God wants to let us see people through his eyes and he wants us to have the same heart for them as he does. And in that moment, I truly believe I had a glimpse of God’s heart for us. In our pain, our doubts, our brokenness, our fears, our suffering, our struggles-- he loves us, his compassion is overwhelming, he wants to walk alongside us through it all.

And I felt the beauty of this little community that was gathered together. We are all connected, and we are reaching out to each other in love, bearing each other’s burdens together, empathizing with each other, showing love and compassion. It is so beautiful. Indeed, these afflictions are eclipsed by glory.

Children's Ministry

When I realized it had fallen to me to put together the children’s ministry at church, I’ll admit my first response was trepidation. I’m not sure this is the right place for me, I thought. I mean, yeah, I love children and I think children’s ministry is important, but wow, this feels like a big deal. With some encouragement and affirmation from people who know me well and were sure I would be great at it, I decided to give it a chance. Then we promptly purchased a curriculum that turned out to be a horrible fit for us, stopped meeting at the theater, started meeting in a home, and completely abandoned any notion of children’s ministry for a while as we located and renovated a permanent place to meet.

Now we are settled into our new location and we are ready to get the children’s ministry up and running again. And again, I have an underlying feeling of anxiety. But this time, I am better able to pinpoint what the problem is. As much as I care about children and families, and as much as I love putting together a curriculum that fits into the vision of our children’s ministry, I find it so overwhelming to think of the enormous responsibility involved in teaching children about God. I have heard too many stories of people whose view of God was warped by the teaching they heard as children, and as adults they are still trying to sort it all out. And I am reminded of the scripture that says, “Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness. For we all stumble in many ways.” Combine that with the idea that “If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea,” and yeah, there’s some anxiety there!

I look at myself and see how imperfect I am, and all the ways that I stumble on a regular basis. And I wonder how on earth anyone, much less God himself, could think it’s a good idea for me to teach children about God. I certainly don’t have it all figured out. In many ways I am still learning about who God is and how much he loves me. I’m still sorting out all the different teachings I’ve heard about God in my lifetime. How can I presume to teach children the right things about God? What if I inadvertently cause them to stumble?

But as I thought through this, a couple of things happened.

I realized that no one has a perfect, completely accurate understanding of God. Every last one of us is doing the best we can with the understanding we have of God, and every last one of us is going to get it wrong sometimes. At some point we may all give others an inaccurate view of who God is, not because we are doing it on purpose but because we are human ourselves and we are all still on the journey. Of course that doesn’t mean we can be careless about what we teach others about God, but it does mean that we can have grace for ourselves. God knows that none of us are perfect, and luckily, he is bigger than us and our mistakes. If God was limited by our understanding of him, we’d have no hope at all. I mentioned earlier that I’ve heard so many stories of people whose view of God was warped by teachings they heard as children, but then I realized that most of those people have hung in there and are trying to come to a more accurate understanding of God. Others may be in the process of walking away from damaging teachings they’ve heard, but that doesn’t mean they’re walking away from God himself. Perhaps they are taking the steps they need to take in order to gain a better understanding of who God is.

When I look at the whole situation, it makes a lot of sense for me to be involved in family and children’s ministry; it’s something I really do care about very much. But I have been too afraid to put that passion to use because of my fear that I will mess up. Now I am seeing that it is better to move forward prayerfully and carefully than to let fear stop me from moving at all.

So, children’s ministry, here I come! I'm excited about planning a curriculum and building a family and children's ministry. I love figuring out how to put our vision into action. I'll admit that I feel my strengths lie more in planning and administration than the actual teaching, so for that reason I'm still a little nervous. However, I think it is going to be okay. I definitely do have a heart for families and children, and a desire for the children at our church to learn about God in ways they can understand. I also know that we have an amazing group of volunteers to work with the children. I'm excited to see where things go!

His Grace Is Sufficient

Looking at me from the outside, you might think I pretty much have things all together. Sure, you may think that I mess up every now and then, in little ways, but it doesn’t seem like anything too major, especially when you compare it to my accomplishments and the way God is working in my life.

But I have a secret. There is something that keeps coming back to haunt me. I struggle with this thing over and over. Try as I might, I cannot seem to permanently disentangle myself from it. Sometimes it feels like there is a battle taking place for my very soul. When the temptation arises, I fight against it, but eventually I become so weary and I start giving in. I know what I should do, but I find myself doing the very thing I hate.

The struggle is exhausting and painful. Sometimes it feels like a huge thorn is lodged deeply into me, piercing my flesh and going all the way down to my spirit. And when I look at this recurring battle, in all its ugliness and pain, I can see just how broken I really am. In that moment, I cannot be prideful, I cannot fool myself into thinking I have it all together, I cannot pretend to everyone else that all is well. On my own, I am nothing. I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out.

And so I cry out to God in frustration. I ask him to take this thing away from me. His answer stuns me. He says no. But why would he let me keep struggling through this when he could just make it all better? I plead with him to take it away. It is too much. I cannot bear this own my own. And then the answer comes more clearly than ever.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

He tells me that he is not going to take this thing away from me. We all have things that we struggle with, some publicly, some privately. Humanity as a whole is broken, far from the way God intended us to be in the beginning, and I am no exception. I am humbled by my own humanity, my own weaknesses and failures and temptations. I realize that I cannot do this on my own. I cannot be perfect. I have no business being prideful.

And, in fact, if I were able to do just fine on my own, I would never be able to experience the amazing grace of God. There would be no need for it. The truth is, I don’t deserve this grace at all. Yet there it is, offered to me by a God who is able to use even my biggest screw-ups to remind me of his power and love.

Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! His grace is sufficient for me. His power is made perfect in my weakness.

Inspired by Romans 7:15-25 and 2 Corinthians 12:1-10

Thy Grace Alone

Several months ago, I began going through the book of Romans, reading and then writing about a chapter at a time. I only made it through a few chapters before I quit.

I'm thinking that it's about time to pick that back up. Romans always speaks to me in such a profound way, and it is especially hitting me hard lately as I grapple with the grace of God and my own brokenness.

I've realized that while I seem to understand grace in theory, I have such a hard time understanding it and accepting it when it comes to myself. Recently I have come face to face with my own brokenness and the issues and struggles that come from it. I've tried denying it, I've tried hiding it, I've tried giving in to it, and I've tried fixing myself. But I've come to a point where I have stopped trying to do all those things and instead am trying to wrap my mind around the unfathomable, amazing grace of God.

The song "Not What My Hands Have Done" by Aaron Keyes has been on my mind, and I think it fits perfectly in this post. You can also read the lyrics at the following link if, like me, you don't really like to watch videos. ;) http://www.lyricstime.com/aaron-keyes-not-what-my-hands-have-done-lyrics.html

Beauty To Be Found

I find winter depressing and ugly. The bare trees, the gray sky, the chilling cold, the extra darkness. It feels lifeless and drab.

I feel like I am going through a personal winter right now. Where there once was color and joy, things feel dead and gray. I don't necessarily mean emotionally, although it naturally takes an emotional toll too. I mean within myself, spiritually, as I struggle through this season of life that reminds me so much of winter.

Yesterday I looked out the window and saw snowflakes coming down. It was like an extra measure of grace, a bit of much-needed beauty in the midst of the freezing air and the gray sky. And in that moment, I was reminded that beauty is still there. Even in the grayest, coldest season where everything feels lifeless, there is still beauty to be found.

It is the same in one's personal winter; there is still beauty to be found. It may be harder to come by, at times, but it is there. Perhaps in a hug, the kind words of a friend, laughter, a song, thoughtfulness.

I was also reminded that winter is just a season. The winters come and go, but they do not last forever. They are followed by new life, growth, and warmth. Though I may be in a dark place now, it will not last. Spring is coming. Joy is coming. There is hope.

Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.

Just Breathe

I am at a self-reflective time in my life. I know some of you are thinking, "When is she NOT in a self-reflective time?"

I've realized that I'm running out of the emotional energy to keep up the idealism that has been part of my life for so long. Many times I have created all these ideals for myself and then I don't understand why I can't do them all. I've often found myself thinking something must be wrong with me.

But nothing's wrong with me. I'm human, and I can't do it all. So I've been working on taking the pressure off myself, figuring out what works for me right now and what doesn't, and then doing what I need to do without berating myself and feeling guilty.

In some areas, that means I've stopped trying to do things that are clearly not working at this point in my life. Homeschooling is one of them. Elijah went back to public school a few weeks ago, and it has made a tremendous difference in my emotional state (in a positive way). He is very happy with it too. I'm realizing it's okay to admit that something just isn't working.

In other areas, it means remembering that I am still on the journey myself. I haven't "arrived." No one has. It's okay to not have all the answers. It's okay to mess up. There's no need for me to judge myself so harshly, or to judge others, for that matter. We're all on our own journeys, learning along the way, and doing the best we can in our own day-to-day realities. And that's okay.

Where They Are

I've heard many people say that God "meets you where you are." He's not angry or punishing us for not being able to do everything the way he knows is best. Nor is he throwing out expectations and standards; he expects us to grow and mature. But God recognizes our abilities and weaknesses at any given spot in our journey and he guides us through them. He patiently disciples us and helps us grow, and as we mature, we start living more as he desires us to live.

It hit me the other day that this is an excellent model for me as a parent, and it's something I've forgotten quite a bit lately, if I'm being honest. I've realized how often I refuse to meet my children where they are. As the adult, with my adult logic and rules and plans, I end up frustrated because my children are simply not on the same level. And it is so easy to become harsh and punitive when, rather than meeting my children where they are, I expect them to be where I am! But I was reminded that this is not how God treats me.

So I have been re-evaluating my parenting and reminding myself that my children are in completely different places developmentally than I am. They have their own abilities and weaknesses. I need to understand what they are and are not capable of at any given age/stage and meet them where they are. Of course this doesn't mean tossing out rules and standards of behavior; that would be permissive, and that's not how God treats me either. ;-) It means coming alongside them and patiently discipling them, guiding and teaching them, and helping them grow and mature.

I want the fruit of the spirit to be evident in my parenting-- love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. I am reminded of God's patience, kindness, and gentleness to me, and I want to show the same to my children. It seems that in meeting my children where they are, there is a greater likelihood for grace, patience, and understanding to characterize my relationship with them.

The Point of Grace

Lately I’ve felt distant from God, and, honestly, a little angry. Some of it is righteous anger at the awful things that have been (and are being) done, said, and taught in the name of God. But I haven’t just been angry at the people who do these things; I’ll admit I’ve been feeling a little angry at God too. He surely sees the hurtful things that people do and say in his name, and yet he seems to do nothing about it. If someone attached my name to teachings or actions that I knew were wrong, I’d want to make it clear that I most certainly am not okay with those things. So many Christians twist scripture and use God’s name to justify manipulation, abuse, and teachings that are not true to God’s character. How does God put up with it– and why does he? Doesn’t it break his heart? Doesn’t it anger him?

I don’t have an answer, really. I’m going to assume the answer involves love, mercy, and understanding of a magnitude I cannot even begin to grasp. I’m going to assume that God must have a plan. He sees things I cannot– situations, motivations, consequences, people’s hearts– and he must be working it all out in ways I don’t perceive. The only other option is a God who’s weak, passive, cruel, or non-existent. And my heart tells me that just isn’t true; my heart tells me God is there, and that he is powerful, loving, and good.

But as I think through all of this, I feel God nudging me to consider some hard questions and answer them truthfully…

Yes, there are people who do and say wrong things in the name of God. But what if I’m one of those people and I don’t realize it? After all, it’s not as though I have a flawless understanding of God; perhaps there are things about him that I firmly believe to be true, but they aren’t, and those beliefs influence my actions. If that were the case, would I want God to become angry, lose patience, and disassociate himself from me? Would I want him to punish me and make a public example of me? No. I would want him to patiently work in my heart, show me the areas where I was wrong, and point me in the direction he wants me to go.

So why do I want him to make a big scene when people continually attach his name to things that are not of him? Honestly– and this is a hard truth to realize– I guess it’s because I believe they’re wrong and I’m right, and that they deserve his anger and I don’t. It’s as though I believe that at some point, the transforming love and grace of God are not enough. In the face of lies, oppression, violence, and abuse, love and grace feel too subtle, too weak, not big enough, not powerful enough. (I know this isn’t the case, but I’ll admit that it feels that way sometimes.) I imagine that God does feel angry and heartbroken when his people attach his name to things that are not of him. Yet he chooses to respond in love.

All I can do is ask God to show me how he feels toward those who do wrong things in his name and to help me see them the way he does. Left to my own devices, I become angry and harbor these feelings I didn’t even realize I had, feelings that they don’t deserve his love, mercy, and grace.

They don’t deserve it. But I don’t deserve it either. That’s the point of grace.

Children and Sin

Usually I'd back away quickly if a book I was reading started talking about children and sin. Most of the "beat it out of them" parenting methods seem to originate with the idea that children misbehave because they're sinful, and I honestly believe that young children misbehave because of immaturity and where they are developmentally. They still have so much to learn, they're curious, and they have very little impulse control and very short attention spans. Young children need patient guidance and understanding of where they are developmentally, not harsh punishment based on the notion that they are sinful little creatures who need to have the sinful impulses driven out of them.

But tonight, as I was reading Grace (Eventually) by Anne Lamott, I came across the following sentence in a chapter about her teenage son: "It turns out that all kids have this one tiny inbred glitch: they have their own sin, their own stains, their own will... all of them are wrecked, just like the rest of us." Out of context, or if you aren't familiar with Anne Lamott's writing style, that still may sound a little out there to you. But please bear with me for just a moment, because it got me thinking about something that I think may be really important.

I still think that young children disobey or mess up because of developmental abilities and immaturity. But it's also obvious that sometime between those early years and adulthood, people do develop certain areas where they struggle. I'm not sure when that starts happening, but it does.

Our job as parents is not to try to drive sin out of our children somehow (an impossible task anyway because no matter how old people get, they will never be completely rid of sin), but instead our job is to teach our children what to do when they struggle with it. We can teach them how to recognize areas of weakness in their own lives, and how to make amends when they mess up, and how to look to God for help, and how to do their best and still accept God's grace and forgiveness when they miss the mark. And we can't teach all of this just by telling them; we teach them by living it in front of them daily. They see us struggle with our own sins, and they see us make amends and go to God and accept grace and forgiveness. My oldest child is almost eight, so obviously immaturity is still a factor here, but I do see certain patterns and tendencies in him that I think could be the building blocks of particular struggles he will have in his life. Instead of punishing him for them, I need to help him learn how to deal with those things and also what to do when he does mess up.

I don't know about you, but it makes a huge difference to me to realize that my children are in the same boat as me. They need the same love, grace, and forgiveness along the way that I do. It makes me think of the story in Matthew 18 where a servant owed the king a debt that he could never have repaid, and the king had mercy on him and forgave him the debt-- but then the servant went out and found someone who owed him some money and refused to show him any mercy. The grace and forgiveness and patience that God gives us, we should also give to others, including our children.

I think about all I've gone through, and will go through, in my life-- the habits and temptations and weaknesses and failures, and the lessons I've learned along the way-- and it breaks my heart to realize that my children will have to go through these things too in the context of their own weaknesses and struggles. It's an inevitable part of the human condition; no matter how much I live these things in front of my children, and no matter how much I teach them, I simply cannot spare them from this human journey. They will struggle, they will fail, they will learn about grace and forgiveness in their own relationships with God. I can equip them for their journeys in certain ways, but their unique journeys are theirs to take. I can't do it for them. All I can do is be there to guide them, prepare them, and love them.

My Experiences With Fear

The question about different motivations for following God is a personal one for me. I have spent about ten years moving away from a fear-based motivation for following God, and sometimes I'm still not completely rid of it.

As far as I can tell, my religious upbringing was not too uncommon for my particular area. I remember sitting in church as a young child and hearing our pastor recount time and time again the detailed stories of vivid nightmares he had about hell when he was a teenager. There was the constant reminder that if you died without knowing Jesus, you would "spend eternity in a devil's hell." I can still hear that phrase in my head if I think about it hard enough. At the age of eight, I felt anxious and sick to my stomach about leaving church. I was scared because I'd heard the pastor talk about people who knew they should believe but never took that step, and how they would go to hell if they died. So I thought that because I hadn't said THE prayer yet, but I knew I should, that made me one of those people. What if we got in a car accident when we left church and I died and went to hell? (Another common example used in the sermons I'd heard.) The next Sunday I went to the front of the church to pray.

It's not that I didn't believe in Jesus; I did. And it's not that the people at our church had negative intentions; actually, I believe they had the very best of intentions and were passionately preaching what they believed. But, either way, I ended up following God out of fear of what would happen to me if I didn't.



Starting my relationship with God based on fear had other effects. For years I struggled with feeling like God would punish me or reject me if I wasn't good enough. If I messed up too many times or didn't improve quickly enough, I feared he would punish me somehow. To this day, I still struggle with the deeply rooted fear that if I am not grateful enough or if I don't do things right, God will take away the people or things I love the most. I can't tell you how many times I've had a frustrating day with one of my children, only to lie in bed at night and cry because I'm so scared that God will take them away from me for not appreciating them enough. I know it's not true-- that this isn't how God works-- but that fear is still there in the back of my mind, haunting me at my weakest moments.

Most teens who have grown up with their parents' faith reach a point where they begin to question it all for themselves. This is an important step toward making their beliefs their own rather than simply regurgitating what they've heard all their lives. When I reached that point, though, I was so frustrated with all I had seen and heard that I more or less started over from scratch. Throughout my late teens and early 20s, I reexamined and reassembled my faith, and this time it was truly my own. And one thing I had to work through was whether I should be following God out of fear. As I learned more about God's love and grace, I felt this gentle nudge in my soul that this was it-- this was the point, this was what I hadn't understood before. I mean, I "knew;" I could have talked to you about love and grace, but I didn't really know. In my heart, I didn't get it.

This post has been long enough, so tomorrow I'll talk about the other half of it: following God in hopes of getting certain rewards.

"Turn or Burn" Evangelism

Last night, as I was working on a post about my experiences with fear-based religious beliefs, I decided to see if I could find a few pictures to illustrate my point. I ended up on a website that sells tracts and I read through several. The spiritual and emotional manipulation and the theological fallacies in them brought up so many thoughts and feelings that I realized they deserved a post of their own.

The last tract I read was a very recent one, published just this year. A guy asks his pastor about hell, and the pastor fumbles around for an answer and tells the guy that hell isn't real and God is too loving to send people there. At some point after this conversation, the guy is in a car accident; his wife is killed and he is in critical condition. He calls his pastor to the hospital, and here is the scene that follows:



He dies a couple hours later, and the doctor says it was a terrible death.

That's only the first half of the tract. In the second half, the pastor is shaken by this whole scene and he talks to a retired pastor, who tells him, "Billions of souls are down there because no one warned them. And billions more are on their way. Their blood is on our hands." Then the retired pastor asks him if he's ready to face judgment, and reminds him that there's "only one way to avoid hell," so the pastor who didn't believe in hell before has a conversion experience.

There's more to it than that, but I'm going to stop here before my head explodes. I felt sick after reading this. Let's begin by assuming that the Dante-inspired interpretation of hell represented here is accurate; if the guy was "dead in the ambulance" and saw it all, why on earth, in the two hours he was alive again, wouldn't he seriously examine his faith? Why would he use his time to call in the pastor and make accusations that it's the pastor's fault he's going to hell?

That was bad enough. But the scene with the retired pastor really bothered me. The last I checked, people were responsible for their own decisions and beliefs, and our role is not to terrify people into believing in Jesus; our role is to show others the love of God. That's what Jesus did. However, those who embrace the theology in this tract would say that scaring people into believing in Jesus is loving, because they're being saved from hell. But that brings up another point. Is the gospel-- the good news-- about escaping hell or about being able to have a relationship with God? About a year ago, I drove past a church that had "Amazing Grace" in its name-- yet under the church's name, the sign read, "Turn or Burn." Is this actually the point? The last scene of this tract basically implies that without having certain beliefs about hell, you do not really have a relationship with Jesus, and that the real reason for turning to God should be to avoid hell. The pastor believed in God and in what Jesus had done, but since he didn't believe in a particular interpretation of hell, his salvation didn't count? That isn't Jesus' message at all!

Having faith in God's love and forgiveness sounds too simple to be true, but it is true. Why do so many Christians insist on making it more complicated and putting burdens on people that they cannot bear? Why add on guilt trips and emotional manipulation? Why terrify people into believing, and then terrify them into scaring other people so they won't have blood on their hands? Where is the love in that? How is this not highly works-based? How is this a loving, Christlike way of interacting with our fellow human beings?

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." -John 13:34-35

Punishments and Rewards

In my last post, I asked if it matters why we're following God, or if it just matters that we're following him regardless of the reason why. I likened it to my children obeying me; I want them to obey me out of the love and trust in our relationship and not because they're seeking a reward or afraid of being punished.

I want to talk about that a little more. Because children begin forming their understanding of God based on their parents, I think it's important for Christian parents to be aware of what our interactions with our children may be teaching them about God. Believe me, I know that in the short term it can feel awfully tempting to hang rewards and punishments over our children's heads to get them to behave the way we want them to, but is it beneficial to them long-term? Is this how God relates to us? Does he want us to obey him because we're afraid of what he'll do if we disobey? Does he want us to obey him because we're seeking certain blessings? Or does he want us to obey him because of the love and trust in our relationship with him? (More on whether I think God rewards or punishes us based on behavior in another post, but the short answer is: I think he allows us to experience the natural consequences and outcomes of our actions, but that is not the same thing as adding on a punishment or reward.)

Long-term, both in life and in their understanding of God, does it help or hinder our children to tie the value of obedience to obtaining a reward or avoiding punishment? I would submit that at the very least, it's not helpful because it doesn't point them toward an accurate view of how God relates to us and it encourages less-than-great motivations for obedience. Now, obviously we are not God; we are human, and we won't always get it right. God's grace leaves room for our mistakes, but I do think it's a good idea to be cautious about the general parenting and discipline philosophies we embrace. Let's learn about how God responds to us and why he wants us to follow him, and then do our best to intentionally represent this in our interactions with our children.

Faith

In the fourth chapter of Romans, Paul continues the discussion about faith, this time focusing on Abraham. He points out that Abraham was the father of both the circumcised and the uncircumcised because it was his faith, not circumcision or works, that justified Abraham before God. To us today that may sound like a no-brainer; of course we know that the state of a man's foreskin doesn't make him righteous. But during Paul's day, the debate over whether believers must be circumcised was a big deal. This was something the Jewish people had done for a long, long time-- but Paul was pointing out to them that it's not outward appearance or actions that count as righteousness.

The circumcision discussion may not challenge our thinking in the same way it would have challenged Paul's audience, but think about this. Western culture focuses heavily on performance, and there are at least segments of Christian culture that focus on outward appearance and rules. In light of this, I wonder if the message that our works are not what justify us before God is just as hard to wrap our minds around as it was for the Jewish people when Paul told them that circumcision did not equal righteousness?

Near the beginning of the chapter, Paul says, "Now to the one who works, his wages are not counted as a gift but as his due. And to the one who does not work but trusts him who justifies the ungodly, his faith is counted as righteousness." How often do we expect that if we just do what we're supposed to do, God will give us the wages we are due? How often do we believe that if we do the right things or act the right way or give enough, we will deserve to be rewarded by God? But really, we "deserve" no such thing on the merit of our own righteousness. Even our "righteous" works are like filthy rags, and it is by God's grace alone that we can have a relationship with him at all. It's a gift, not a right, not something owed to us in exchange for our good works.

I've heard so much talk about doing certain things in order to receive blessings from God. I would submit that perhaps we should stop worrying about what we can "get" from God, stop worrying so much about our own performance, stop focusing on rewards and rules, and instead simply focus on God. Let's build a relationship with him and allow him to transform our hearts, our desires, our actions, our lives. I'll put it this way: What's the point of giving God our filthy rags in hopes that he'll give us even more filthy rags? It's not about giving stuff to God or doing certain things so he'll bless us; it's about giving ourselves, our hearts, to him, surrendering and allowing him to transform us.

When we reduce our relationship with God to a give-and-take in which we receive our due wages for doing the right things, we are missing the point. This is not a transaction; it is about faith and grace and a transforming relationship with our Creator.

Repentance

"Do you know what it is to feel the light of love inside you, and all the darkness falls away?" -Dave Matthews Band

In Romans 2, Paul writes that although God gave the law (Torah) to the Jews, he has also written his law on the hearts of those who are not Jews. I love that God has put his law in our hearts. So many people think about the Old Testament law in a negative way-- too strict, impossible to follow perfectly, and not necessary to Christians anyway because of Jesus. I don't entirely agree with that, though. I can think of a few things Jesus said about the law that tell me it is still important-- for example, in Matthew 5 Jesus says that he didn't come to abolish it, but to fulfill it (in other words, live it out fully). At other times Jesus says that things like love for God and your neighbor and treating others the way you would want them to treat you summarize the law and the prophets. So I don't agree that the law is irrelevant post-Jesus. I think it reveals God's heart and desire for his people. There is no longer a need for atonement whenever we do not live it perfectly, though-- Jesus paid this penalty for us, and this gives us the freedom to have a relationship with God and to follow him the best we can while accepting his grace and forgiveness along the way. Paul also points out that it is what is in our hearts that sets us apart for God, not something outward like circumcision. What is important is not what can be physically observed on the outside; God is looking at us inwardly, in our hearts.

Truth be told, I seriously struggle with where my heart is sometimes. I know that I end up straying into places that I should not be, places that are off limits and are not in line with how God desires for me to live. At the beginning of Romans 2, Paul writes, "Do you presume on the riches of his kindness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that God's kindness is meant to lead you to repentance?" And that, I think, gets to the root of my struggle. I know that God is forgiving and patient and has given me grace, so I sometimes make the mistake of not taking these issues very seriously when they come up, when in fact they are serious.



See, what happens is I get to a place where I start thinking I'm doing pretty well and I can handle things from here. But then when I start trying to manage things on my own, I slowly drift away from God. God is still there, willing to shine his light into every corner of my heart, but as I drift away, the darkness becomes more and more pronounced, and the light fades into the distance. It is like seeing a very bright light from far away, and it looks like a tiny speck. But then when I realize just how far I've drifted and begin moving closer again, the light becomes bigger and brighter, and as it shines on all these things I've been hiding, I realize they have to go. Bad habits, thought patterns, attitudes, desires-- they are glaringly obvious. It's hard to let go of the things that have become deeply ingrained, but in order to stay in the light, I must. It's like turning on a bright light in a pitch black room; it hurts as I adjust.

And when I get to that point, I realize that I cannot continue to "presume on the riches of his kindness" and ignore these issues in my heart. His law is written there and he is illuminating it for me. His grace means that the penalty has been paid; it does not mean he is permissively looking the other way. It is meant to bring me to repentance. And so as God's love and kindness bring me to repentance, and I move closer to the light, his light fills me and the darkness fades.

What Is Good

"The perfect is the enemy of the good." -Voltaire

How true this has proven to be in my life. The perfect crouches on my shoulder, disguised to look like an angel, when really it is a demon. The perfect entices me, becomes an idol, a false god, something for which I constantly strive. The perfect mom, the perfect wife, the perfect house, the perfect life.

Except in perfection, there is no room for grace. If we are capable of being perfect, we have no need for God or a savior. Perfection, then, would be a hollow prize; I could glorify myself and have faith and pride in myself, but I would still be missing something-- something that is more complicated and much more treasured than perfection. God. Love. Forgiveness. Grace. Humility.

He has told you, O man, what is good; and what does the Lord require of you but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? -Micah 6:8

Grace: Parents Need It Too

Lest you think that my last post means I harbor illusions of being a perfect mom, allow me to lay that idea to rest. I'm not perfect, and I'm very well aware of it. Yesterday afternoon, I yelled, slammed a door, yelled some more, said some very hurtful words, and ended up making my 7 year old cry. :-( It was not a stellar parenting moment, and I deeply regret it.

But even the worst parenting moments have lessons in them if you are willing to look for them. There are lessons about making amends, forgiveness, grace, and preventing it from happening again. Even bad parenting moments can be used for good.

On Sunday I talked to Elijah about God's grace and forgiveness when we mess up. Then on Monday, I messed up. Grace and forgiveness are truths that are so much harder to embrace when I am the one in need of them. The truth is, regardless of my beliefs about parenting and my ideals, sometimes I'm going to screw it up. Is that hypocritical? No, I don't think so-- it's human. I'm willing to admit that I'm not perfect. I'm so, so not perfect. And what amazes me, what stuns me every time I'm faced with the reality of it, is that God knows I'm not perfect too-- and he loves me. He forgives me. He extends grace to me. I don't have to be perfect.

Of course, grace and forgiveness in parenting do not do away with the need to make amends and experience consequences. Likewise, God's grace and forgiveness do not mean that I don't need to make amends or that I won't experience consequences. Immediately after my yelling, door-slamming, and harsh words, I realized how very wrong I had been, and I apologized. I hugged my son and sincerely apologized. I explained to him that I had been very angry, and that sometimes I feel like using loud, mean words to show how angry I am-- and I told him that doesn't make it okay. I asked for his forgiveness, and I made a promise to him that I would not say things I don't mean out of anger.

After a moment like this, it's important to examine what led up to it and to look for ways to prevent it from happening again. I seriously doubt I would have flown off the handle if I had not been feeling hungry, tired, and slightly under the weather. I have been reminded to take care of myself and to be aware of those triggers. (Side note: It's also important to remember that children who are hungry, tired, not feeling well, or otherwise stressed are also more likely to act out.) I have also been reminded to use self-calming strategies when I'm feeling angry instead of verbally lashing out. And I've been reminded to stop and listen to that little voice inside of me that's warning me not to do what I'm about to do (just like I had talked to Elijah about listening to his conscience the day before).

So in conclusion, no, I'm not perfect. I'm just like you-- I have some really great moments, and some utterly terrible ones, and plenty in-between as I fumble around at this difficult, rewarding, epic job of parenting. And each day I am unspeakably grateful for God's grace.