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.
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 15, 2014
Friday, January 10, 2014
Open Gates
Recently I was talking to my kids about boundaries. Because, you know, with a future school counselor as a mom, that kind of thing is pretty commonplace around here. ;-)
I explained it to my five year old like this because he was having some difficulty with staying out of his two year old brother's space:
"Boundaries are kind of like a fence. Imagine that there's a fence right here. That's the boundary; you stay on one side of it, and Joshua stays on the other."
Isaac seemed to get it, and was especially intrigued by the fence analogy (which, in his mind, became a gate).
A few minutes later he climbed into my lap and snuggled up with me.
"My gate is closed," he said. "But Mom? My gate for you is open. I have two gates."
No matter what, he is always interested in cuddling with his mama. Even when he's ready for a break from other people, he wants me to know that I'm always welcome.
I hugged him close, and he asked, "Mom? Is your gate always open for me, too?"
Yes, baby. Always.
I explained it to my five year old like this because he was having some difficulty with staying out of his two year old brother's space:
"Boundaries are kind of like a fence. Imagine that there's a fence right here. That's the boundary; you stay on one side of it, and Joshua stays on the other."
Isaac seemed to get it, and was especially intrigued by the fence analogy (which, in his mind, became a gate).
A few minutes later he climbed into my lap and snuggled up with me.
"My gate is closed," he said. "But Mom? My gate for you is open. I have two gates."
No matter what, he is always interested in cuddling with his mama. Even when he's ready for a break from other people, he wants me to know that I'm always welcome.
I hugged him close, and he asked, "Mom? Is your gate always open for me, too?"
Yes, baby. Always.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
A New Year
Looking ahead at 2014, there are a lot of big things on the horizon.
Next week, I will start my school counseling practicum at a local elementary school. I'm so excited, and also pretty nervous. This will be my first real experience in school counseling. The spring semester will also include an oral exam for my master's program, plus I'll be attending my first school counseling conference. During the second half of the year, I'll complete my first of two school counseling internships at either an elementary school or a high school. Also, my husband is about to begin nursing school at night on top of his full-time job. His classes start in a couple weeks, and clinicals begin in February. By the time 2014 wraps up, I'll be one internship away from graduating, and he'll be halfway through the nursing program! We're going to be busy, for sure, but we're both excited about taking the next steps toward our future careers!
Also during the second half of the year, my oldest son will start middle school (how is this even possible?!) and my middle son will start kindergarten. I can't believe how fast my babies are growing up. Each year seems to go by faster.
Of course, I have plenty of other goals for the year. Like most people, I want to lose weight this year and get in better shape. I'm turning 30 next month, and I've realized that I've been carrying around extra weight my entire adult life. Certainly, I have lost a lot of it over the past five years, but I still have approximately 30-40 pounds I want to lose. Even more significant than that, though, is the situation with my abdominal muscles. Basically, they are split (thanks, giant babies) which causes me to have core weakness, back pain, and puts me at risk for a hernia if I don't repair the split. So that is my main health goal for the year. I have to be careful about the exercises I do, though, because traditional abdominal exercises can actually do further damage. I am also thinking about signing up for another color run in April. Maybe. We'll see. ;) I enjoyed my experience with running last year, but it never helped me at all with weight loss, so I may choose to focus my exercise efforts elsewhere. I definitely want to do some strength training, and I have plenty of inches to lose.
Some other things I anticipate this year:
No more diapers! Joshua turned two a few weeks ago and is becoming very interested in potty training. I definitely plan to be completely done with diapers by the end of the year, and hopefully within the next few months.
Lots of reading. I know I don't have a lot of extra time, but I want to be intentional about how I use it. Right now, I tend to spend too much of my spare time on Facebook. Instead, I want to cultivate a habit of reading, especially about topics that are important to me as a mom and school counselor.
Another trip out of town with my husband. I'd love to go back to Nashville around my birthday next month, but any trip at any time would be acceptable. ;)
Writing. If you know me, it's no secret that I've always enjoyed writing. I've kept a journal since I was a child, and I've been blogging in various forms for about a decade now. Unfortunately, I haven't written as much over the past couple of years because I've been so busy, but I miss writing and I want to get back to it. Between my posts as I read through the lectionary, thoughts about various topics, and general life updates, hopefully this blog will get a lot of use this year.
Love. As always, I want to be a more loving, generous person. I hope that people will see the love of God through me as I continue to grow spiritually.
I also want to start consistently attending church again. This will, of course, require my family to stay healthy. That has been our biggest hindrance over the past few months.
And of course, I'm going to continue developing close, positive relationships with my children. The older they get, the more I see these efforts pay off. It's not always easy, and it certainly takes time and patience, but it's so worth it. I want to intentionally focus on spending consistent one-on-one time with each of the boys. They each enjoy this, but it's so easy to let life get away from us without making time for it on a regular basis.
So, there are some of the things I expect for the year. Of course I know there will be many unexpected happenings as well, and I hope I can stay positive throughout whatever changes come my way. Here's to a new year!
Next week, I will start my school counseling practicum at a local elementary school. I'm so excited, and also pretty nervous. This will be my first real experience in school counseling. The spring semester will also include an oral exam for my master's program, plus I'll be attending my first school counseling conference. During the second half of the year, I'll complete my first of two school counseling internships at either an elementary school or a high school. Also, my husband is about to begin nursing school at night on top of his full-time job. His classes start in a couple weeks, and clinicals begin in February. By the time 2014 wraps up, I'll be one internship away from graduating, and he'll be halfway through the nursing program! We're going to be busy, for sure, but we're both excited about taking the next steps toward our future careers!
Also during the second half of the year, my oldest son will start middle school (how is this even possible?!) and my middle son will start kindergarten. I can't believe how fast my babies are growing up. Each year seems to go by faster.
Of course, I have plenty of other goals for the year. Like most people, I want to lose weight this year and get in better shape. I'm turning 30 next month, and I've realized that I've been carrying around extra weight my entire adult life. Certainly, I have lost a lot of it over the past five years, but I still have approximately 30-40 pounds I want to lose. Even more significant than that, though, is the situation with my abdominal muscles. Basically, they are split (thanks, giant babies) which causes me to have core weakness, back pain, and puts me at risk for a hernia if I don't repair the split. So that is my main health goal for the year. I have to be careful about the exercises I do, though, because traditional abdominal exercises can actually do further damage. I am also thinking about signing up for another color run in April. Maybe. We'll see. ;) I enjoyed my experience with running last year, but it never helped me at all with weight loss, so I may choose to focus my exercise efforts elsewhere. I definitely want to do some strength training, and I have plenty of inches to lose.
Some other things I anticipate this year:
No more diapers! Joshua turned two a few weeks ago and is becoming very interested in potty training. I definitely plan to be completely done with diapers by the end of the year, and hopefully within the next few months.
Lots of reading. I know I don't have a lot of extra time, but I want to be intentional about how I use it. Right now, I tend to spend too much of my spare time on Facebook. Instead, I want to cultivate a habit of reading, especially about topics that are important to me as a mom and school counselor.
Another trip out of town with my husband. I'd love to go back to Nashville around my birthday next month, but any trip at any time would be acceptable. ;)
Writing. If you know me, it's no secret that I've always enjoyed writing. I've kept a journal since I was a child, and I've been blogging in various forms for about a decade now. Unfortunately, I haven't written as much over the past couple of years because I've been so busy, but I miss writing and I want to get back to it. Between my posts as I read through the lectionary, thoughts about various topics, and general life updates, hopefully this blog will get a lot of use this year.
Love. As always, I want to be a more loving, generous person. I hope that people will see the love of God through me as I continue to grow spiritually.
I also want to start consistently attending church again. This will, of course, require my family to stay healthy. That has been our biggest hindrance over the past few months.
And of course, I'm going to continue developing close, positive relationships with my children. The older they get, the more I see these efforts pay off. It's not always easy, and it certainly takes time and patience, but it's so worth it. I want to intentionally focus on spending consistent one-on-one time with each of the boys. They each enjoy this, but it's so easy to let life get away from us without making time for it on a regular basis.
So, there are some of the things I expect for the year. Of course I know there will be many unexpected happenings as well, and I hope I can stay positive throughout whatever changes come my way. Here's to a new year!
Sunday, December 29, 2013
Praise
Several months ago, I began an attempt to write down things I am grateful for on little slips of paper, and thumbtack them to a cork board. It was meant to be a visual reminder of the large and small ways God has provided for me and my family. Unfortunately, it was a failed attempt because the board ended up getting buried under other stuff on my desk and I forgot about it. :-/ However, I'm getting ready to try it again, this time with the board hanging on a wall in a common room of the house so everyone can see and contribute to it. And no more thumbtacks and little slips of paper; ain't nobody got time for that. I'm just putting a posterboard over the cork board and we can write things directly on it with whatever is handy.
But as I think about praise, I realize there is so much more to it than I think about most of the time. It's not just about praise for material and financial provision, or for health-- although those are most certainly worthy of praise!
There is more.
Psalm 148 is a beautiful piece of poetry that talks about all of creation praising God. It starts by speaking of heavenly beings such as angels, then works its way down through nature itself: the sun, moon, and stars, the animals, the mountains, the trees, even the weather. And then humanity: the kings and rulers of the world, men and women, and finally children. Each aspect of creation is described as being created at the commandment of a God whose majesty is above both earth and heaven. And God's entire creation is poised to praise him.
But the imagery in the psalm takes on more meaning for me when I consider the heights and depths of the universe experienced by Christ: from the heavens all the way down to being a human infant, taking on flesh and blood, and experiencing temptation and suffering. God humbled himself to our position-- then gloriously defeated death. Hebrews 2 describes this so beautifully, with a reminder that Jesus destroyed the one who has power over death. The implications for our spiritual freedom and deliverance are enormous! This is certainly worthy of praise.
But there is, again, more.
This is where my mind is blown every time I think of it.
Presumably, Jesus could have stayed safe in the comfort of heaven, but he didn't. The act of coming to this world as a human being, taking on flesh and blood, suffering, and dying so we could be redeemed... this is such an amazing display of God's compassion, mercy, goodness, and love that I am nearly speechless when I try to fathom it.
The tendency toward sin is woven through humanity; it is egregious and tragic. But God, rather than being put off by it or throwing his hands up in the air and giving up on us, opted instead for marvelous grace, mercy, and compassion to make a way for us. Because stronger than our sinfulness, is God's love for us.
Let me try to put it in human terms I can wrap my head around more easily. It's like seeing my child fail repeatedly at meeting adult standards. As a parent, I see his limitations and immaturity, so rather than giving up on him or punishing him, I come alongside him to help him meet the standard. That's a very dumbed down explanation, but it's one I can easily understand.
The love of a parent toward his or her child is humble, self-sacrificing, compassionate, and merciful. This is a beautiful picture. When I blow it up to the proportions of a perfect creator and fallen humanity, it becomes that much more beautiful.
Look at the love God has lavished on us. How amazing that God has made a way for redemption for people who are incapable of doing it on their own.
God responds to our failures and sins with compassion and mercy! Not with fury, disgust, punishment, or turning away from us. But why?
Because of the "abundance of his steadfast love" (Isaiah 63:7).
And that is worthy of praise.
If you are interested in reading along, the passages from the lectionary that inspired this post are: Isaiah 63:7-9, Psalm 148, Hebrews 2:10-18, and Matthew 2: 13-23. They can be read at http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=8
But as I think about praise, I realize there is so much more to it than I think about most of the time. It's not just about praise for material and financial provision, or for health-- although those are most certainly worthy of praise!
There is more.
Psalm 148 is a beautiful piece of poetry that talks about all of creation praising God. It starts by speaking of heavenly beings such as angels, then works its way down through nature itself: the sun, moon, and stars, the animals, the mountains, the trees, even the weather. And then humanity: the kings and rulers of the world, men and women, and finally children. Each aspect of creation is described as being created at the commandment of a God whose majesty is above both earth and heaven. And God's entire creation is poised to praise him.
But the imagery in the psalm takes on more meaning for me when I consider the heights and depths of the universe experienced by Christ: from the heavens all the way down to being a human infant, taking on flesh and blood, and experiencing temptation and suffering. God humbled himself to our position-- then gloriously defeated death. Hebrews 2 describes this so beautifully, with a reminder that Jesus destroyed the one who has power over death. The implications for our spiritual freedom and deliverance are enormous! This is certainly worthy of praise.
But there is, again, more.
This is where my mind is blown every time I think of it.
Presumably, Jesus could have stayed safe in the comfort of heaven, but he didn't. The act of coming to this world as a human being, taking on flesh and blood, suffering, and dying so we could be redeemed... this is such an amazing display of God's compassion, mercy, goodness, and love that I am nearly speechless when I try to fathom it.
The tendency toward sin is woven through humanity; it is egregious and tragic. But God, rather than being put off by it or throwing his hands up in the air and giving up on us, opted instead for marvelous grace, mercy, and compassion to make a way for us. Because stronger than our sinfulness, is God's love for us.
Let me try to put it in human terms I can wrap my head around more easily. It's like seeing my child fail repeatedly at meeting adult standards. As a parent, I see his limitations and immaturity, so rather than giving up on him or punishing him, I come alongside him to help him meet the standard. That's a very dumbed down explanation, but it's one I can easily understand.
The love of a parent toward his or her child is humble, self-sacrificing, compassionate, and merciful. This is a beautiful picture. When I blow it up to the proportions of a perfect creator and fallen humanity, it becomes that much more beautiful.
Look at the love God has lavished on us. How amazing that God has made a way for redemption for people who are incapable of doing it on their own.
God responds to our failures and sins with compassion and mercy! Not with fury, disgust, punishment, or turning away from us. But why?
Because of the "abundance of his steadfast love" (Isaiah 63:7).
And that is worthy of praise.
If you are interested in reading along, the passages from the lectionary that inspired this post are: Isaiah 63:7-9, Psalm 148, Hebrews 2:10-18, and Matthew 2: 13-23. They can be read at http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=8
Friday, March 18, 2011
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.
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.
Monday, March 14, 2011
A Simple Cup of Coffee
For a few weeks, this thing has been building. I have been purposely ignoring someone who is simply being friendly, someone who only wants a cup of coffee and a chat in the middle of his day. He comes by the church almost every Saturday while I am there cleaning. I have come to expect that he will stop by and ask if there’s any coffee. And yet every Saturday, I do not make coffee.
But the last time that scenario played out, I felt convicted. I had that sinking feeling inside that I knew what I was doing was not okay. And I asked myself, why am I doing this? It’s such a simple thing. A cup of coffee, a short chat, a friendly face. Why in the world would I knowingly, purposely deny him that?
I could blame it on my introversion, my shyness, or my desire to spend some time alone. Yes, I am introverted. Yes, I am shy. Yes, I enjoy spending a little time alone on Saturday mornings. But none of those things made it okay for me to refuse to give this man what he was looking for. The truth is, there really was no good reason for it.
So this Saturday, I made him coffee. He came in, poured a cup for himself and a cup for me, and we talked. It was just a short time. Five minutes, maybe ten. I had given him a travel mug to drink from, and when he left, I told him to go ahead and take it with him and come in for a refill next Saturday.
Perhaps a new tradition has begun.
I like to talk about community and the concept of loving others, but I wonder if sometimes I get so caught up in looking at the big ways of doing it, or just pondering it theoretically, that I miss so many little opportunities. Truth be told, there are opportunities throughout our daily lives to lift people up, encourage them and love them. How many times do I ignore those opportunities? More than I would like to admit, I think.
"We can do no great things; only small things with great love." -Mother Teresa
But the last time that scenario played out, I felt convicted. I had that sinking feeling inside that I knew what I was doing was not okay. And I asked myself, why am I doing this? It’s such a simple thing. A cup of coffee, a short chat, a friendly face. Why in the world would I knowingly, purposely deny him that?
I could blame it on my introversion, my shyness, or my desire to spend some time alone. Yes, I am introverted. Yes, I am shy. Yes, I enjoy spending a little time alone on Saturday mornings. But none of those things made it okay for me to refuse to give this man what he was looking for. The truth is, there really was no good reason for it.
So this Saturday, I made him coffee. He came in, poured a cup for himself and a cup for me, and we talked. It was just a short time. Five minutes, maybe ten. I had given him a travel mug to drink from, and when he left, I told him to go ahead and take it with him and come in for a refill next Saturday.
Perhaps a new tradition has begun.
I like to talk about community and the concept of loving others, but I wonder if sometimes I get so caught up in looking at the big ways of doing it, or just pondering it theoretically, that I miss so many little opportunities. Truth be told, there are opportunities throughout our daily lives to lift people up, encourage them and love them. How many times do I ignore those opportunities? More than I would like to admit, I think.
"We can do no great things; only small things with great love." -Mother Teresa
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Empathy
After my experience on Sunday morning, I am not sure what to do. I feel like I cannot carry on as usual and pretend it never happened. Even when I do carry on as usual, something in me feels... unsettled. I am reminded of what James has said about being "haunted" by the Holy Spirit; when you are haunted, you are unable to live a normal life.
It's not that I feel an urge to go out and try to fix everyone's problems. For once, I don't feel that way. I know that is not my place. But I am left asking myself, what do I do with this? I sat in that room and became immensely aware of people's pain and God's compassion. That is real, and I cannot ignore it.
Empathy is a gift, I think. And I think that is at the core of what I felt on Sunday. There have been many times in my life when I have felt so strongly what other people are feeling. Combine empathy with intuition, and yes, I absolutely believe it is a gift that God wants to use. Not that I am "special" somehow; I think we each have a gift he wants to use. But perhaps this is mine.
But what do you do with empathy and intuition? As with any gift, some people might use these things to manipulate others. But I don't think that is what empathy and intuition should be used for.
I want to use them to connect with other people. When you can "read" people well, and pick up on their emotions, you are better equipped to come alongside them and encourage them or help them through their problems. You can pray for them with a keen sense of what they are going through.
In fact, it hit me the other day that this is part of what Jesus did in his life here on earth. He became human. He can empathize with our struggles, fears, and joys. And Scripture says he intercedes for us with God.
As I look at the life of Jesus, I am so encouraged by what he did with his empathy and understanding of people. He had compassion. He loved them. He encouraged them. He spoke hard truths when necessary. He didn't let himself become completely overwhelmed by the pain of other people. He intercedes for us.
And so while I am still left wondering how, specifically, God wants to use me, I am not anxious and worried about it. I simply feel led to get to know the people in my life better, to spend time developing relationships with them, and encouraging them when I can, and praying for them. And I know I do not have to let myself get overwhelmed by other people's pain; I can be aware of it, let the feelings run through me, and give it to God.
But one thing is for sure; I cannot go on as though Sunday morning never happened.
It's not that I feel an urge to go out and try to fix everyone's problems. For once, I don't feel that way. I know that is not my place. But I am left asking myself, what do I do with this? I sat in that room and became immensely aware of people's pain and God's compassion. That is real, and I cannot ignore it.
Empathy is a gift, I think. And I think that is at the core of what I felt on Sunday. There have been many times in my life when I have felt so strongly what other people are feeling. Combine empathy with intuition, and yes, I absolutely believe it is a gift that God wants to use. Not that I am "special" somehow; I think we each have a gift he wants to use. But perhaps this is mine.
But what do you do with empathy and intuition? As with any gift, some people might use these things to manipulate others. But I don't think that is what empathy and intuition should be used for.
I want to use them to connect with other people. When you can "read" people well, and pick up on their emotions, you are better equipped to come alongside them and encourage them or help them through their problems. You can pray for them with a keen sense of what they are going through.
In fact, it hit me the other day that this is part of what Jesus did in his life here on earth. He became human. He can empathize with our struggles, fears, and joys. And Scripture says he intercedes for us with God.
As I look at the life of Jesus, I am so encouraged by what he did with his empathy and understanding of people. He had compassion. He loved them. He encouraged them. He spoke hard truths when necessary. He didn't let himself become completely overwhelmed by the pain of other people. He intercedes for us.
And so while I am still left wondering how, specifically, God wants to use me, I am not anxious and worried about it. I simply feel led to get to know the people in my life better, to spend time developing relationships with them, and encouraging them when I can, and praying for them. And I know I do not have to let myself get overwhelmed by other people's pain; I can be aware of it, let the feelings run through me, and give it to God.
But one thing is for sure; I cannot go on as though Sunday morning never happened.
Monday, March 7, 2011
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.
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.
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Love
As I contemplate the areas where I feel led to grow and develop, they can all be summed up with one word: love.
So as a new year begins, I am not making a list of goals that I will inevitably forget about in just a few short weeks. No timetables of accomplishments I want to achieve, no regimented schedules to help me get there, no pressure to be a perfect version of me.
I just want to focus on love. I want love to be my motivation in my daily life, in my decisions, in my interactions with others, in my treatment of myself.
Will I fail at this sometimes? No doubt about it. I’m human; of course I cannot love perfectly. But I feel this urge within my soul to love more genuinely.
And it is not something I can do on my own. I can force loving actions, maybe, for a time. But I cannot force love. So in order to love more genuinely, I must draw closer to the one who is love. My prayer is that I will be able to see and feel God’s love for me more than I ever have before, and that he will help me love others the way he wants me to.
I know this is a scripture that pretty much everyone knows, but I never get tired of it. I think it is so beautiful.
Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.
So as a new year begins, I am not making a list of goals that I will inevitably forget about in just a few short weeks. No timetables of accomplishments I want to achieve, no regimented schedules to help me get there, no pressure to be a perfect version of me.
I just want to focus on love. I want love to be my motivation in my daily life, in my decisions, in my interactions with others, in my treatment of myself.
Will I fail at this sometimes? No doubt about it. I’m human; of course I cannot love perfectly. But I feel this urge within my soul to love more genuinely.
And it is not something I can do on my own. I can force loving actions, maybe, for a time. But I cannot force love. So in order to love more genuinely, I must draw closer to the one who is love. My prayer is that I will be able to see and feel God’s love for me more than I ever have before, and that he will help me love others the way he wants me to.
I know this is a scripture that pretty much everyone knows, but I never get tired of it. I think it is so beautiful.
Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Nine Years
When my husband and I got married, let's face it, the odds were against us. I was 17 and a senior in high school, he was 19 and a college student, and I was pregnant. People don't normally look at a situation like that and think, "Oh, that's going to work out great!" Many times, it doesn't work out well at all.
And it was tough, especially the first few years. We were still young and immature, and we said and did several things to each other that were hurtful and inconsiderate. We struggled, we were often distant from each other, and we were both at fault. I remember feeling at times that we were basically roommates. We had very few mutual friends or common interests. Somehow we managed to hang on.
When we had been married for about three years, I began to long for something more, but I didn't know how we could ever get there. It felt like we would have to start anew in so many ways. And so I prayed. I prayed that the slate would be wiped clean and that we could leave old hurts and habits in the past so we would be able to start building something new together. And my prayer was answered. It was amazing how things changed in my heart from that point on. Things improved, but we still had a long way to go.
When we had been married for five years, lots of things changed for us. Several things happened within the time span of just a few months. I joined a message board of other Christian women, and from reading there I began learning so much more about healthy communication and boundaries in marriage. I know the things I read there made a huge difference in me. Around the same time, we both became less dependent on our best friends and more dependent on each other, and we began discovering common interests and goals. And we started going to a new church, where we developed mutual friendships. Those things all sound so simple, but they made a world of difference in our relationship.
Since then, we have grown closer than I ever thought possible. Of course we still have our own interests and hobbies, but we also have common ones. We share important goals and dreams. I feel so blessed to be married to a man who I can truly say is my best friend. It's awesome to look back and see where we've been and how far we've come in the past nine years.
Happy anniversary!
And it was tough, especially the first few years. We were still young and immature, and we said and did several things to each other that were hurtful and inconsiderate. We struggled, we were often distant from each other, and we were both at fault. I remember feeling at times that we were basically roommates. We had very few mutual friends or common interests. Somehow we managed to hang on.
When we had been married for about three years, I began to long for something more, but I didn't know how we could ever get there. It felt like we would have to start anew in so many ways. And so I prayed. I prayed that the slate would be wiped clean and that we could leave old hurts and habits in the past so we would be able to start building something new together. And my prayer was answered. It was amazing how things changed in my heart from that point on. Things improved, but we still had a long way to go.
When we had been married for five years, lots of things changed for us. Several things happened within the time span of just a few months. I joined a message board of other Christian women, and from reading there I began learning so much more about healthy communication and boundaries in marriage. I know the things I read there made a huge difference in me. Around the same time, we both became less dependent on our best friends and more dependent on each other, and we began discovering common interests and goals. And we started going to a new church, where we developed mutual friendships. Those things all sound so simple, but they made a world of difference in our relationship.
Since then, we have grown closer than I ever thought possible. Of course we still have our own interests and hobbies, but we also have common ones. We share important goals and dreams. I feel so blessed to be married to a man who I can truly say is my best friend. It's awesome to look back and see where we've been and how far we've come in the past nine years.
Happy anniversary!
Monday, November 29, 2010
Isn't That Just Good Parenting?
My last post sparked an interesting, and very good, conversation about the implications of the attachment parenting label. It was pointed out that, if attachment parenting really is what I described, then it’s simply what good parents do and it doesn’t need the “attachment” label. It’s just parenting.
I agree with that statement-- but I would be hesitant to say it without first attempting to clear up the common misunderstandings of what is meant by "attachment" parenting in the first place. Here's why:
Suppose you have been given the impression that attachment parenting is breastfeeding, baby-wearing, and co-sleeping, and then you heard me say, “Attachment parenting is really just what good parents do, and it doesn’t even need the label. Just call it parenting.” If you hear that statement with an inaccurate understanding of what attachment parenting is, that would be an incredibly hurtful statement! What you would actually “hear” me saying is that people who don’t breastfeed, baby-wear, or co-sleep are bad parents. And, if you read my last post, you know that’s not what I believe at all.
At the same time, though, I concede that the label itself can cause confusion, but I would say that part of that confusion does stem from not knowing what is actually meant by the term. When you hear “attachment parenting,” it is logical to assume that anything that isn’t described as attachment parenting would be described as detachment parenting. So, if you think that attachment parenting is about outward actions, then you would assume that people who don’t breastfeed, baby-wear, or co-sleep are being called detached. And if you read my last post, you know I don’t believe that either!
Hence the clarification of what, exactly, the point of attachment parenting is. It’s hard, if not downright impossible, to have an honest conversation about the label itself if you think it is implying something it isn’t. This misunderstanding of what the actual goal of attachment parenting is contributes to a lot of the confusion about it.
As I stated in my last post, the heart of attachment parenting is relationship. It’s about forming a healthy parent-child attachment by being responsive and sensitive to your children and parenting them as individuals. Sure, things like co-sleeping, breastfeeding, and babywearing are common ways to help foster attachment, but you are not a “detachment” parent if you don’t do them! Attachment has been one of my main goals with both of my children. Yet one of them hardly ever slept in our room, only nursed for a couple weeks, and was never worn in a sling (I didn't even know they existed!), while the other has co-slept since he was born (now only part of the time), is starting the weaning process at the age of 2, and has been worn in a sling some (but not frequently because of back problems that I have). And I have a very healthy attachment with both of them!
Attachment parenting emphasizes having plenty of nurturing physical contact with your child, breastfeeding (when possible) both for nourishment and comfort, being within close proximity at night (not necessarily in the same bed), and continuing to respond promptly and sensitively to a baby’s needs at night. In all honesty, these are things that are biologically appropriate. Mothers have God-given instincts to hold our babies, to comfort them when they cry, to nurse them, and to be responsive no matter the time of day. However, in recent history, there have been parenting books that promote the author's "methods" rather than encouraging mothers to trust and follow their natural mothering instincts. Here are some common examples: Don’t hold the baby so much; you’ll spoil him. Don’t nurse him whenever he cues that he wants to; put him on a strict schedule. Don’t ever put him in your bed; he may never leave. Don’t respond to his nighttime cries; he needs to learn that nighttime is for sleeping.
Could it be that attachment parenting has to be qualified with the “attachment” label to distinguish it from this attitude of parenting that has honestly become quite common in our culture? I agree that responsive, sensitive parenting shouldn’t need a label; it should just be “parenting.” But in our culture, maybe the label serves a purpose.
I also want to talk about why I think many parents are so eager to identify themselves with various labels and methods, and the pros and cons of labels in general (not just in parenting), but those topics will have to be for future posts.
I agree with that statement-- but I would be hesitant to say it without first attempting to clear up the common misunderstandings of what is meant by "attachment" parenting in the first place. Here's why:
Suppose you have been given the impression that attachment parenting is breastfeeding, baby-wearing, and co-sleeping, and then you heard me say, “Attachment parenting is really just what good parents do, and it doesn’t even need the label. Just call it parenting.” If you hear that statement with an inaccurate understanding of what attachment parenting is, that would be an incredibly hurtful statement! What you would actually “hear” me saying is that people who don’t breastfeed, baby-wear, or co-sleep are bad parents. And, if you read my last post, you know that’s not what I believe at all.
At the same time, though, I concede that the label itself can cause confusion, but I would say that part of that confusion does stem from not knowing what is actually meant by the term. When you hear “attachment parenting,” it is logical to assume that anything that isn’t described as attachment parenting would be described as detachment parenting. So, if you think that attachment parenting is about outward actions, then you would assume that people who don’t breastfeed, baby-wear, or co-sleep are being called detached. And if you read my last post, you know I don’t believe that either!
Hence the clarification of what, exactly, the point of attachment parenting is. It’s hard, if not downright impossible, to have an honest conversation about the label itself if you think it is implying something it isn’t. This misunderstanding of what the actual goal of attachment parenting is contributes to a lot of the confusion about it.
As I stated in my last post, the heart of attachment parenting is relationship. It’s about forming a healthy parent-child attachment by being responsive and sensitive to your children and parenting them as individuals. Sure, things like co-sleeping, breastfeeding, and babywearing are common ways to help foster attachment, but you are not a “detachment” parent if you don’t do them! Attachment has been one of my main goals with both of my children. Yet one of them hardly ever slept in our room, only nursed for a couple weeks, and was never worn in a sling (I didn't even know they existed!), while the other has co-slept since he was born (now only part of the time), is starting the weaning process at the age of 2, and has been worn in a sling some (but not frequently because of back problems that I have). And I have a very healthy attachment with both of them!
Attachment parenting emphasizes having plenty of nurturing physical contact with your child, breastfeeding (when possible) both for nourishment and comfort, being within close proximity at night (not necessarily in the same bed), and continuing to respond promptly and sensitively to a baby’s needs at night. In all honesty, these are things that are biologically appropriate. Mothers have God-given instincts to hold our babies, to comfort them when they cry, to nurse them, and to be responsive no matter the time of day. However, in recent history, there have been parenting books that promote the author's "methods" rather than encouraging mothers to trust and follow their natural mothering instincts. Here are some common examples: Don’t hold the baby so much; you’ll spoil him. Don’t nurse him whenever he cues that he wants to; put him on a strict schedule. Don’t ever put him in your bed; he may never leave. Don’t respond to his nighttime cries; he needs to learn that nighttime is for sleeping.
Could it be that attachment parenting has to be qualified with the “attachment” label to distinguish it from this attitude of parenting that has honestly become quite common in our culture? I agree that responsive, sensitive parenting shouldn’t need a label; it should just be “parenting.” But in our culture, maybe the label serves a purpose.
I also want to talk about why I think many parents are so eager to identify themselves with various labels and methods, and the pros and cons of labels in general (not just in parenting), but those topics will have to be for future posts.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Relationship
When it comes to things like pregnancy, birth, and parenting, it's important to provide information in a loving and supportive way. But, if at all possible, I also think it's best to do this in the context of relationship.
Now, obviously, for those who blog (like me!) it may not be possible to develop a relationship with everyone who may encounter what we're saying. I'm not suggesting that we should never write about the things that matter to us; I am suggesting that we pursue relationships with people in our real lives. When we do this, we will naturally get to know people whose experiences, circumstances, and choices differ from our own. Understanding issues and choices through the eyes of other people instead of through our own perspective and idealism can go a long way toward helping us approach people in a loving and supportive way (rather than a judgmental or condescending way), both in person and in writing.
When people in our lives make choices that differ from our own, do we attempt to see things through their eyes and understand what's behind the choices they've made, or do we judge them? They're lazy. They care more about their own convenience than what's best for their child. They haven't done any research. They're detached from their kids. Ouch! In the end, are we more committed to our ideals and the issues we're passionate about, or are we more committed to people? Relationship, I think, is the key to loving people more than our pet "issues." And in the context of a true, loving relationship, it is very unlikely that we will simply assume the worst about the other person.
As someone whose choices regarding pregnancy, birth, and parenting have changed drastically from my first child to my second, I can guarantee you that being harshly judged and looked down on by others would never have done anything to change my mind; it would have just hurt my feelings and made me feel bitter. You know what opened my eyes and my heart to other perspectives and choices? Relationships. While my oldest was still quite small, I met and developed relationships with loving, caring people whose choices differed from my own in various ways-- but they didn't try to force their choices on me. They just did their thing with confidence and were willing to talk if I had questions. Some even blogged about their experiences and perspectives, but I never felt judged when I read their posts-- I felt encouraged.
In relationship, we get to know other people and understand where they're coming from, and we let them get to know us and understand where we're coming from. We live life authentically in front of each other, and we all grow and change. It impacts our assumptions, our words, our choices, our understanding. There is so much to be gained from relationships-- and so much to be lost if we overlook their importance.
Now, obviously, for those who blog (like me!) it may not be possible to develop a relationship with everyone who may encounter what we're saying. I'm not suggesting that we should never write about the things that matter to us; I am suggesting that we pursue relationships with people in our real lives. When we do this, we will naturally get to know people whose experiences, circumstances, and choices differ from our own. Understanding issues and choices through the eyes of other people instead of through our own perspective and idealism can go a long way toward helping us approach people in a loving and supportive way (rather than a judgmental or condescending way), both in person and in writing.
When people in our lives make choices that differ from our own, do we attempt to see things through their eyes and understand what's behind the choices they've made, or do we judge them? They're lazy. They care more about their own convenience than what's best for their child. They haven't done any research. They're detached from their kids. Ouch! In the end, are we more committed to our ideals and the issues we're passionate about, or are we more committed to people? Relationship, I think, is the key to loving people more than our pet "issues." And in the context of a true, loving relationship, it is very unlikely that we will simply assume the worst about the other person.
As someone whose choices regarding pregnancy, birth, and parenting have changed drastically from my first child to my second, I can guarantee you that being harshly judged and looked down on by others would never have done anything to change my mind; it would have just hurt my feelings and made me feel bitter. You know what opened my eyes and my heart to other perspectives and choices? Relationships. While my oldest was still quite small, I met and developed relationships with loving, caring people whose choices differed from my own in various ways-- but they didn't try to force their choices on me. They just did their thing with confidence and were willing to talk if I had questions. Some even blogged about their experiences and perspectives, but I never felt judged when I read their posts-- I felt encouraged.
In relationship, we get to know other people and understand where they're coming from, and we let them get to know us and understand where we're coming from. We live life authentically in front of each other, and we all grow and change. It impacts our assumptions, our words, our choices, our understanding. There is so much to be gained from relationships-- and so much to be lost if we overlook their importance.
Monday, July 19, 2010
Love Comes First
I have really been struggling to write lately. There are so many things I passionately believe in; I love to read and talk and write about things like pregnancy, birth, and parenting. So it only makes sense to do so on my blog.
But some other blog posts and articles I've read recently in various places have given me pause. I've been seeing a lot of well-meaning information, research, and thoughts put out there but expressed in such a condescending or judgmental way. And I find this really frustrating.
I think it's so important for parents to be able to access the information needed to make truly informed decisions, and I believe that many OB/GYNs, pediatricians, and parenting publications often provide only one side of the story while telling us it's all we need to know to be fully informed. And so I definitely believe in getting the "other" information out there. The problem is that it's so often done in a way that feels like guilt-tripping and condescension all wrapped up in a pretty package that says, "I'm just trying to help!" Both "sides" use research to support their claims and use language that make people feel like bad parents if they don't measure up to whatever that particular side is saying about that particular issue.
I can hear people saying now, "But you said yourself that people need to have access to information that will allow them to make truly fully informed choices! If we care about the issues and the parents and the babies, we need to speak up!" And I agree-- but in the context of love and support. Unfortunately, a lot of times it feels like people are bombarded with information and expectations in a way that feels less like love and support and more like piling more and more burdens upon people's backs.
But it's a balance that can be hard to find, especially when it's complicated by the very real situations in which people feel judged even if nothing judgmental was said or intended. So some people end up tiptoeing around, afraid to say anything at all out of fear of unintentionally offending someone, and some people end up saying, "Screw it, I'll just say what I think and people can deal with it!" I don't think either approach is all that helpful, though.
My mind keeps coming back to speaking the truth in love. I think it's okay to share research and information and our own thoughts and experiences, but it's so important to pause and ask ourselves if our motivation is really love. If we're saying it in hopes that other people will see how wrong they've been and how right we are, that isn't very loving. If we're saying it as a way to passively-aggressively comment on other people's choices, that isn't very loving. And I'll be honest enough to admit I have said things in the past with a less-than-loving motive, and I am truly sorry. So often when people are passionate about something, it is easy to start caring more about the issue than about people, and I have definitely been guilty of that before.
So in the midst of all the passion and concern and research and information, let's remember that the people around us are real people with unique circumstances and struggles. Instead of bombarding everyone we know (and even people we don't know) with ideals and "shoulds," let's form relationships with people, get to know their situations, love them, and empathize with them.
But some other blog posts and articles I've read recently in various places have given me pause. I've been seeing a lot of well-meaning information, research, and thoughts put out there but expressed in such a condescending or judgmental way. And I find this really frustrating.
I think it's so important for parents to be able to access the information needed to make truly informed decisions, and I believe that many OB/GYNs, pediatricians, and parenting publications often provide only one side of the story while telling us it's all we need to know to be fully informed. And so I definitely believe in getting the "other" information out there. The problem is that it's so often done in a way that feels like guilt-tripping and condescension all wrapped up in a pretty package that says, "I'm just trying to help!" Both "sides" use research to support their claims and use language that make people feel like bad parents if they don't measure up to whatever that particular side is saying about that particular issue.
I can hear people saying now, "But you said yourself that people need to have access to information that will allow them to make truly fully informed choices! If we care about the issues and the parents and the babies, we need to speak up!" And I agree-- but in the context of love and support. Unfortunately, a lot of times it feels like people are bombarded with information and expectations in a way that feels less like love and support and more like piling more and more burdens upon people's backs.
But it's a balance that can be hard to find, especially when it's complicated by the very real situations in which people feel judged even if nothing judgmental was said or intended. So some people end up tiptoeing around, afraid to say anything at all out of fear of unintentionally offending someone, and some people end up saying, "Screw it, I'll just say what I think and people can deal with it!" I don't think either approach is all that helpful, though.
My mind keeps coming back to speaking the truth in love. I think it's okay to share research and information and our own thoughts and experiences, but it's so important to pause and ask ourselves if our motivation is really love. If we're saying it in hopes that other people will see how wrong they've been and how right we are, that isn't very loving. If we're saying it as a way to passively-aggressively comment on other people's choices, that isn't very loving. And I'll be honest enough to admit I have said things in the past with a less-than-loving motive, and I am truly sorry. So often when people are passionate about something, it is easy to start caring more about the issue than about people, and I have definitely been guilty of that before.
So in the midst of all the passion and concern and research and information, let's remember that the people around us are real people with unique circumstances and struggles. Instead of bombarding everyone we know (and even people we don't know) with ideals and "shoulds," let's form relationships with people, get to know their situations, love them, and empathize with them.
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Connected
I lay outside looking up at the night sky. Neighbors were shooting fireworks all around, and as I watched them, I felt a strange sense of connection to other people all over the country who were doing the same thing I was right at that moment. In the midst of all the differences we may have, this was a shared experience.
As the fireworks died down, my attention turned to the stars. I lay there on my back and gazed up at them, thinking of the beauty of creation and marveling at the enormity of it all. Again I felt a sense of connection. How many people all over the world throughout history have done just that? We are not so entirely different, even across time and cultures.
My thoughts went to my friend who was in labor with her first child at that moment. Another connection. We women are connected by this amazing ability to carry, birth, and nourish a new life. We divide ourselves over different opinions and choices, but we have such an awesome thing in common!
People share so many experiences. We have more in common than we realize. We are more connected than we know, but too often we let our differences drive us apart. I have been more conscious of it lately than ever, and I am weary of it.
As the fireworks died down, my attention turned to the stars. I lay there on my back and gazed up at them, thinking of the beauty of creation and marveling at the enormity of it all. Again I felt a sense of connection. How many people all over the world throughout history have done just that? We are not so entirely different, even across time and cultures.
My thoughts went to my friend who was in labor with her first child at that moment. Another connection. We women are connected by this amazing ability to carry, birth, and nourish a new life. We divide ourselves over different opinions and choices, but we have such an awesome thing in common!
People share so many experiences. We have more in common than we realize. We are more connected than we know, but too often we let our differences drive us apart. I have been more conscious of it lately than ever, and I am weary of it.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Just As They Are
One of the things I love most about our church’s recent transition to meeting in homes is the presence of children. There is something so beautiful and natural about having everyone gathered together, from the youngest to the oldest. Worship was beautiful today; it brought tears to my eyes to hear everyone singing together to just the music of a guitar, and to hear the smaller children making noise too, and to hold my youngest son close while I sang. I think there’s so much good to be said for children experiencing worship and hearing adults talk about and praise God. No, children are not always quiet, and as a mom I do feel a little embarrassed when it’s my kid making noise—but at the same time, children are part of life and I love seeing them accepted into the community just as they are. It’s a picture of life, love, family, worship and discipleship. Beautiful.
Now they were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them. And when the disciples saw it, they rebuked them. But Jesus called them to him, saying, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it. –Luke 18:15-17
Now they were bringing even infants to him that he might touch them. And when the disciples saw it, they rebuked them. But Jesus called them to him, saying, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for to such belongs the kingdom of God. Truly, I say to you, whoever does not receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it. –Luke 18:15-17
Thursday, June 17, 2010
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Using God
Sometimes people follow God out of fear. And sometimes, we follow because of what we think we'll get from him.
Believe me, I could write plenty about the idea that God will give us material blessings if we follow him. Suffice it to say that I don't think that's how God works, and regardless, it's not a great reason for following him. What kind of relationship is it if we're doing things just so we'll get a reward?
No, I want to talk about something that seems so much more innocuous on the surface, something I do all the time and have only recently realized it.
Many times I've written that we cannot change our own hearts by simply changing our outward actions; God is the one who changes hearts, and then true heart changes are naturally reflected in outward actions. And this may be true-- but I've realized that a lot of times I've been guilty of viewing my relationship with God as a means of self-improvement. And maybe that doesn't even sound like such a big deal, but when you're more or less addicted to perfectionism and self-improvement, it is a big deal.
I see where I am weak, I see where I fail, I see where I want to improve, and all my efforts and striving make very little difference in my heart. And so I see that I need to turn to God and stop trying so hard to be righteous on my own-- and that's true-- but then I simply substitute God as my means of self-improvement. If I can't do it on my own, maybe God will do it for me if I just follow him properly.
Do you see how this is not a great thing? On the outside, it looks perfectly reasonable and it sounds spiritual enough, so what could the problem be? But underneath the surface, it's still the wrong motivation for following God.
I'm not saying that God won't change our hearts; I think he does. I'm saying that this should not be our primary focus in pursuing a relationship with him. Suppose God never changes me in the ways I think he should or the ways I wish he would-- would I still follow him? The truth is, even when God does change our hearts, and even when those changes are reflected in our actions, we still are not going to be perfect in this life, because it isn't possible.
So instead of following God in pursuit of that thing we want to get from the relationship or out of fear of punishment, we are free to follow him out of love. It's that simple and that complicated-- simple because it is just that, no strings attached, and complicated because our humanness is constantly telling us there must be more to it and so we are continually tempted to focus on the wrong things.
Believe me, I could write plenty about the idea that God will give us material blessings if we follow him. Suffice it to say that I don't think that's how God works, and regardless, it's not a great reason for following him. What kind of relationship is it if we're doing things just so we'll get a reward?
No, I want to talk about something that seems so much more innocuous on the surface, something I do all the time and have only recently realized it.
Many times I've written that we cannot change our own hearts by simply changing our outward actions; God is the one who changes hearts, and then true heart changes are naturally reflected in outward actions. And this may be true-- but I've realized that a lot of times I've been guilty of viewing my relationship with God as a means of self-improvement. And maybe that doesn't even sound like such a big deal, but when you're more or less addicted to perfectionism and self-improvement, it is a big deal.
I see where I am weak, I see where I fail, I see where I want to improve, and all my efforts and striving make very little difference in my heart. And so I see that I need to turn to God and stop trying so hard to be righteous on my own-- and that's true-- but then I simply substitute God as my means of self-improvement. If I can't do it on my own, maybe God will do it for me if I just follow him properly.
Do you see how this is not a great thing? On the outside, it looks perfectly reasonable and it sounds spiritual enough, so what could the problem be? But underneath the surface, it's still the wrong motivation for following God.
I'm not saying that God won't change our hearts; I think he does. I'm saying that this should not be our primary focus in pursuing a relationship with him. Suppose God never changes me in the ways I think he should or the ways I wish he would-- would I still follow him? The truth is, even when God does change our hearts, and even when those changes are reflected in our actions, we still are not going to be perfect in this life, because it isn't possible.
So instead of following God in pursuit of that thing we want to get from the relationship or out of fear of punishment, we are free to follow him out of love. It's that simple and that complicated-- simple because it is just that, no strings attached, and complicated because our humanness is constantly telling us there must be more to it and so we are continually tempted to focus on the wrong things.
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
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.
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.
Monday, June 14, 2010
"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
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
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