Uncomfortable Reality

The other day, my 7 year-old was giving me a report on a book she read for her literature lesson. As she stumbled through explaining what had happened and who the characters were, I stopped her to let her know that she was not pronouncing the main character’s name correctly. She quickly responded with, “Oh, I know, that’s just what I call her.”

My brow furrowed as I knew that this particular child of mine if very quick to respond this way when she is corrected for anything. She is very fearful of being wrong and so always tries to spin things in a way that make it sound like she knows what she was supposed to do or say, but is intentionally changing the standard and the rest of us just need to accept this as the new norm and move on.

My heart grieves deeply to see her trying so hard to avoid being corrected, because I desire my children to be teachable, and I know that requires a great deal of humility and a willingness to accept correction.

I also know that I grieve the heart of God in the same way.

To admit we are wrong is really difficult, no matter how old we are.  

We are often happier to see the world as we want it to be rather than to see it for what it actually is. When others try to tell us that what we’ve seen to be true is incorrect, we tend to get defensive and avoid those conversations at all costs. At least, I know I do. I don’t like being told I’m wrong. It scares me.

The reality is that walking through life ignoring the truth about ourselves and trying to change the standard so that we measure up is immensely more scary.

It's like walking down a busy street blind with no help.

I was reading earlier this week about a collection of studies written by Marius von Senden in 1932 called Space and Sight reporting the results of blind patients being able to see after undergoing operations to restore their sight. These reports showed that many of the patients struggled with understanding the world as they now saw it with their eyes, because up until that moment, they had been seeing the world through their other senses, and what they saw with their eyes was so different from what they had understood those objects to be that some would literally close their eyes and walk around in the darkness rather than adjust to the terrifying new way of seeing. Still others would beg for the operation to be reversed so they could go back to being blind! Can you fathom preferring to live blind?

Annie Dillard writes about this research in her book Pilgrim at Tinker Creek,

“The mental effort involved in these reasonings proves overwhelming for many patients. It oppresses them to realize, if they ever do at all, the tremendous size of the world, which they had previously conceived of as something touchingly manageable.”

I am one who would prefer to remain blind to my reality, and continue in the comfort of familiar darkness. I have a tendency to shy away from things that overwhelm me and make me feel stupid or in the wrong. I am much happier when I feel that I can manage things. Competence makes me feel pretty snazzy. Earlier this week, my husband whooped me in a game of air hockey. As in skunked me 7-0. I did not feel very snazzy. I scowled and walked away muttering about how annoying arcades are. Yes, my pride bruises easily in even the most juvenile of activities.

I don’t like being corrected, my 9 year-old is learning this, now that she is so much smarter than me. She is very patient to tell me, “No, Mom, you need to push this button on the remote to get the TV to change the input.”

“What?!” I’m wondering how soon she’ll have me committed to the old folks home now that I can’t navigate the simplest of technological devices.

I hold tightly to my pride.

And I am very comfortable in my pride. So when the Holy Spirit opens my blind eyes to see the reality of my sin, I’d rather close them and carry on as before, than to struggle through the discomfort of facing my failure and making a course correction.

A friend recently said to me that to live this life faithfully, we would do well to learn to sit for a bit in places of discomfort. We are quick to adjust into a more comfortable position or situation.

However, most times sanctification of the soul comes in very uncomfortable ways.

When we are comfortable, there is no reason to do anything differently. We don’t feel as though we need anything when we are comfortable. Discomfort is a gift of God’s grace that motivates us to search for answers in hopes of relief. Suffering, whether caused by outside forces or as a result of our own mistakes, pushes us towards repentance. It invites us to turn and walk the other direction. By God’s grace, it draws us to him, if we are willing to humbly accept correction.

I want my children to understand this. I want to understand this better.

How about you? Do you struggle with admitting you are wrong? Or am I the only one? Are you indifferent to your own pride?

My prayer for both of us today, is that God will help us to respond humbly to his correction. That we would have our eyes open to see our sin for what it is and repent. I pray that we would rejoice in the freedom that comes when we give up trying to always be right, admit that we are wrong and accept the reality of the changes we need to allow the Holy Spirit to make.

“I know all the things you do, that you are neither hot nor cold…You say, ‘I am rich. I have everything I want, and I don’t need a thing’, And you don’t realize that you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked…I correct and discipline everyone I love. So be diligent and turn from your indifference. Look! I stand at the door and knock. If you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in, and we will share a meal together as friends.” Revelation 3:15-20 NLT

Hope in Action

Rain poured and flooded hundreds of homes this week near where I live. I watched with a dropped jaw as the news stations showed footage of people floating down streets in desks and on air mattresses in an attempt to escape the rising water. The cost of damage and death tolls were estimated by the experts together in a single breath.

Today families are staring at soggy piles of what used to be their belongings while others are grieving the loss of their loved one. Everyone knew the rain was coming. No one expected this level of devastation.

Our hearts are heavy for those brothers and sisters in our own church who are experiencing loss as their houses filled with over 3 feet of water. One family’s house caught fire after being struck by lightening and so, today they are weeding through burnt remains.

In this moment of sorrow, we see the Spirit of God directing his children to love, serve, strengthen, encourage and care for one another. Hands and feet rush in to remove damaged furniture and tear out sheetrock that is covered with bacteria now that the water has receded. Food is brought in. Hugs are shared

There is no arguing about who is more gifted to do which task. Everyone rolls up their sleeves and does the work that needs to be done. The wealthy and the poor carry couches and washing machines out together. There is no distinction, pride or shame. Everyone is working together to do what they can to help each other. The devastation that exists in this broken world results in a unity between people that nothing else can accomplish. God uses what was meant for evil for His gospel purpose. We glimpse the kingdom of God as His people jump into action.

The bride of Christ is at her most radiant in these moments of hardship. She shimmers with hope in ways that allows many to see the goodness of God in the worst of times. And it is happening all over the world. As earthquakes are shattering lives in Ecuador and Japan, and 100 million people in India are also surviving floods, the people of God are stepping up and helping out. And it is truly beautiful to see.

But it is not just on these most difficult of days that the people of God are called upon to respond. The truth is that devastation happens daily, but not usually on epic scales such as these. Often times, devastation is small and can happen without anyone knowing that help is needed.

The damage of a lost marriage, lost finances, lost faith, or a lost dream can occur in whispers. Devastation is swept under the rug along with all of the other broken pieces of life before anyone else can notice it. These are the times when the bride of Christ still has the opportunity to shine with the radiance of her Groom’s love, if she will but make the effort to see the need for help and respond, even when the notice is small.

I’ll be honest. It is not hard to rearrange a schedule to lend a helping hand when the crisis is huge like it has been this week. There is no question about whether or not I will drop whatever I have going on to jump in and help. The need is huge and the damage is overwhelming for literally thousands of people. But, I may pause and consider the inconvenience of a less epic crisis. My desire to remain safe in my own routine is astonishing and embarrassing, and to do so is to misuse the freedom that the Gospel has given us, and the command to love and serve one another.

“For you were called to freedom, brother. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another.” Galatians 5:13

There are many who are overwhelmed daily, and the damage is epic, maybe not to thousands, but certainly to that one. And we must use our resources to serve them freely.

It is admittedly harder to see the obvious need in some situations. It requires a slower step and time spent building a closer relationship. One has to have spent time in community with a person in order to know when to ask the hard questions of, “What do you need?” and “How can I help?” This is one reason why community with others is vital to our faith. We cannot offer or receive help if we have not allowed ourselves to be known and taken the time to know others.

For you today, Mama, I ask you to consider a few questions. Who is in a personally devastating crisis today that you know, and what do you have to offer them?

Maybe you don’t think you have any resources to offer, but remember that oftentimes the kingdom of God shows up in small, mustard seed type ways. Sometimes it is a small light on a hill that helps the lost find their way, or bit of salt that brings the flavor of life to those starving for hope. It may be something as simple as a meal dropped off, some free childcare so a new momma can grab a much needed nap, or simply a cup of coffee and a listening ear. It doesn’t have to be epic to warrant our time and energy. It just needs to be done in the name of Christ, for his purposes and for his glory.

My prayer for you today is that you will have eyes to see the need closest to you, perhaps even the one right under your nose in the shape of that little one who has no reserves in asking for help! I pray that if today you are overwhelmed by your own devastating crisis, you will find the courage to ask the people of God for help. I pray that today we, the bride of Christ, will do the work of the ministry that we have been equipped by our pastors to do.

“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 ESV

“Remove the heavy yoke of oppression. Stop pointing your finger and spreading vicious rumors! Feed the hungry, and help those in trouble. Then your light will shine out from the darkness…” Isaiah 58:9-10 NLT

Abiding Anonymously

The word anonymous can bring either comfort or fear. I often enjoy the thought of being anonymous. Unknown. It sounds safe. Like no one is looking at me, seeing my faults. I can stay in pjs and eat peanut butter from the jar when I feel anonymous. It sounds like a day spent at home, googling gardening tips and eating popsicles on the back patio. It is a day without the interruption and pressure of social media. No one wants to chat, comment or react to a status update. I can just be.

The danger of being anonymous too often is that, left unchecked, it can morph into isolation. To be isolated is unwise (Proverbs 18:1). If no one knows you, and your faults, then there is no accountability. There is no friend to lovingly call you back when you have gone too far.

God knows us. We are not anonymous to Him. He sees all and loves us still.

The flip side of this coin is to fear anonymity. To frantically chase attention and acknowledgement of others. To find our identity in how well-known and often thought of we are. Recognition and admiration grow like weeds in the heart of one running away from being anonymous. But they never give the joy we expect they will.

In her book, “Seated with Christ” Heather Holleman wisely states, “…our hearts don’t really want importance, our hearts crave the righteousness of Christ that declares our unconditional acceptance.”

So what do we do with the feelings, desires and temptations that anonymity brings? John 15 speaks to this when Jesus says, “Abide in me.” What does it mean to abide in Jesus? I’ve always thought that abiding hinted at rest. Abiding sounds like a vacation. A time away from the noise and routine of everyday, and a chance to sit and think on those good things Philippians 4:8 tell us to.

But abiding is not synonymous with hiding or taking a break from life. Abiding is about knowing Christ and being on mission with him. And it not only gives our souls a place to rest in a broken world, but also gives us courage to be known in the midst of our own brokenness, because by abiding in Christ, we already are known fully and accepted completely. Only then are we able to do the good works he has prepared for us to do without the relentless thirst of fame and achievement breathing down our necks.

We each have a desire to be known. We have need for connection and acceptance. Too often, we hide for fear of rejection, or chase acknowledgement in hopes of being accepted. One who can stop hiding from rejection or chasing approval will find herself satisfied with abiding. Trusting in the work of Jesus, done on our behalf, provides the space for us to abide.

Doesn’t that sound hopeful? It sound’s like a day at the beach, or a tea party in the most beautiful of gardens! Rest for our souls is found in abiding in Jesus. My heart longs for this, and reminds me that I am not made for the striving of this world, but rather am created to abide in my Creator, worshipping and delighting in Him, just for the joy of being close to Him! Therefore, my work as a mom, wife, church member, writer, or friend is not about achieving success or pats on the back, but rather becomes an act of worship that really has nothing to do with my own sense of identity, and everything to do with the glory of God.

My prayer for you today is that you would find space to abide anonymously. I pray that as you discover space in the shambles of your own brokenness to abide in Christ, you will understand that you are fully known, and fully loved by Him.

“Abide in me, and I in you. As a branch cannot bear fruit by itself unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing…By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples.” John 15:4-5; 8ESV