This is an interesting time of year for me. Not only is it the new year, but it's also my birthday. I turned 30 yesterday (yes, happy birthday to me) and it is such an odd feeling. On the one hand, I'm delighted to be older, to be maturing, to be growing out of some of my baggage and selfishness and silliness (my closest friends might beg to differ, but this is my blog and I can make whatever outrageous claims I want to). On the other hand, it's completely unbelievable to me that I'm 30. I really still feel 24. Not that I don't notice the energy slump, the extra time it requires to recover from my New Year's Eve party, the extra ache in my knees after a run. But when someone says, "Oh, her daughter's about 24," I think, "Oh, my age!" I have to stop and correct myself that 24 is NOT my age. It's over half a decade younger than me. And that's an odd feeling.
But this morning in the quiet before my boys started stirring and the day exploded around me, as I sat with my Bible and my holy cup of coffee, I thought back over this last year (which has been crazy) and over as much of the last 30 as I could remember, focusing on the last 10. What do I see? I see God's faithfulness. He has been so faithful. I have been through a lot of ups and downs and challenges. I have struggled; I have wept; I have fought and kicked against the goads. I have doubted and questioned and thrown fits. But God has not. God has kept steady and solid and sure. God has tirelessly pressed on, pressed upward, pressed into me. I distinctly remember times when I was sure He was on vacation or at the very least on the other line! But when I look back I see the refinement, the prodding, the gentle, or at times not-so-gentle pressure. I see times when I felt like I was going through hell only to look back now and see His mercy. His tender, terrible mercy.
And I'm reminded of Israel. They have no king, just judges. Lines and lines of judges, some of whom have done well; some not so well. And here they are, under Samuel. Not only a judge but a godly prophet. They have finally gotten the ark back. They made a muddle of things there, bringing the ark to a fight that God had not picked, but they have rectified the situation, gotten the ark back and want a new beginning. They ask Samuel what to do and in the midst of the altar call, here come the Philistines again. They obviously hadn't learned their lesson from all the tumors and rats that God inflicted them with and they think they'll have the same result as last time when they captured the ark. But this time, Samuel is there. Samuel cries out to the Lord and asks for His mercy, His might, His will. And God answers with a whopper of a thunder storm, knocks the Philistines silly and Israel has the victory. So this time, they did it right. For now, they are following the God of All Creation.
In a humble spirit and totally surrendered, Samuel sets up a stone of remembrance and calls it Ebenezer: Thus far as the Lord been faithful. Up til now, things have been crazy. We've been running things our way some and God's way some. Sometimes we're surrendered; sometimes we're stubborn. But so far, no matter what we do, God is faithful. So far, we cannot look back and pinpoint one time that God has not done exactly what God said He would do. Right now, and there is no evidence to the contrary, He is a faithful and good God.
That's where I am this January. This 30th birthday. Thus far has the Lord been faithful to me. Thus far He has accomplished His will and purpose through me and for me. Thus far, His Name has been glorified and my good has happened, even in spite of me sometimes. Thus far, He has been the author and perfecter of my faith. Thus far I have not gone without food or shelter or friends or family or love. Thus far...
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Showing posts with label God. Show all posts
Friday, January 7, 2011
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Into the Dark
As a youth minister, I was way more on top of modern culture than I am now...and that's not saying much! Ha! I'm not what you'd call "culture savvy" sometimes. However, there was/is a particular movement among youth culture that I absolutely could not handle: Emo. Ugh! It drove me insane. "To be great is to be misunderstood" Congratulations! You have achieved Nirvana! I do not understand you at all. But make you great...we may disagree on that conclusion.
As a youth minister I was constantly encouraging the teens to think through the consequences of that illogical goal. What was the ultimate end of attempting to make sure people don't understand you? But I digress. I don't need to get on my soap box about illogical, emotion based youth movements. Chances are, if you read this, I'm preaching to the choir anyway.
Of the many throw-away creations from that movement, there was one song that stuck out: I Will Follow You Into the Dark. It is a terrible song! If you listen to the lyrics you realize this artist is totally rejecting Judeo-Christian beliefs of the afterlife, presumably based on a bad grade-school experience and his inability to conform to the idea of fearing God as the beginning of true love. So, instead, he offers his significant other a third option instead of heaven or hell. Whenever she dies, he will also (kill himself?) and they will just hold each other in the nothingness forever.
If you know me, you must be wondering why in the world I listened to this song enough to even know what it's about. Because besides being a terrible song, it is a beautiful song. It has one of the most haunting melodies I've ever heard. The melancholy longing and the passionate "give it all up for you" love spoken in the lyrics is unmistakable.
After I heard this song, I spent months trying to put other lyrics to it. In the true spirit of Christian music, I tried to replace the words with Amazing Grace, and found if I used "The Steadfast Love of the Lord" as the chorus, it worked out perfectly! Ha!
Ironically, that's not what has been most applicable to me lately. When Jonathan first came to me with the notion of church planting, I rejected it immediately. There was no way I was walking away from my dream job. I had worked too hard and prayed too long to be a youth minister to give it up and chase some crazy idea of planting the Gospel elsewhere. I wanted to plant the Gospel in my teens. I wanted to teach awesome Sunday night devotionals, have true, heartfelt worship with new songs, play stupid games and go to camp. That might sound like a Japanese torture chamber to some of you, but that's the life I love and I wasn't going to give it up.
But God had other plans. Slowly and painfully, he began prying my fingers off of my life. He was gentle but insistent. He claimed that I had given Him my heart and my "yes" years ago, and now He was calling in His marker. I remember nights of weeping and wailing (yes, quite literally) at Jonathan for this transgression of "bait and switch" he had pulled on me. I had married a youth minister and now he was going to be a pastor! I was going to have to give up my hip faded jeans and American Eagle waffle shirts and wear flowery dresses and white pumps and sit on the front row! That's what a pastor's wife did! Ugh! I didn't even know how to play piano!
But as God began thawing my heart (and sometimes with a blow torch), I began falling in love with not only Him again, but with His vision for reaching lost people. I had no idea how to plant a church, how to be a pastor's wife, how to support my husband and raise our 3 kids, how to raise support or even how to ask for help. But I did know Him, and He who called is faithful!
I remember the night I looked at Jonathan, nodded in assent and said, "Ok. I will follow you into dark" I didn't mean it emo. I wasn't going to slit my wrists. But I was going to surrender to God, submit to my husband and hand-in-hand we were going to walk off the cliff trusting God to make the tight-rope appear that He had called us walk on.
I find myself saying that a lot to God these days. "I'm following You in the dark right now, Lord" I'm not sure how we're going to sell this house, find money to move, leave our friends and family and strike out into the wild blue yonder, but I know we won't be doing it Alone. I know we're following the One who called us on this journey and is leading out ahead of us.
We're still following Him in the dark, and Jesus' love hasn't failed us yet.
"Thus far as the Lord been faithful--Ebenezer"
As a youth minister I was constantly encouraging the teens to think through the consequences of that illogical goal. What was the ultimate end of attempting to make sure people don't understand you? But I digress. I don't need to get on my soap box about illogical, emotion based youth movements. Chances are, if you read this, I'm preaching to the choir anyway.
Of the many throw-away creations from that movement, there was one song that stuck out: I Will Follow You Into the Dark. It is a terrible song! If you listen to the lyrics you realize this artist is totally rejecting Judeo-Christian beliefs of the afterlife, presumably based on a bad grade-school experience and his inability to conform to the idea of fearing God as the beginning of true love. So, instead, he offers his significant other a third option instead of heaven or hell. Whenever she dies, he will also (kill himself?) and they will just hold each other in the nothingness forever.
If you know me, you must be wondering why in the world I listened to this song enough to even know what it's about. Because besides being a terrible song, it is a beautiful song. It has one of the most haunting melodies I've ever heard. The melancholy longing and the passionate "give it all up for you" love spoken in the lyrics is unmistakable.
After I heard this song, I spent months trying to put other lyrics to it. In the true spirit of Christian music, I tried to replace the words with Amazing Grace, and found if I used "The Steadfast Love of the Lord" as the chorus, it worked out perfectly! Ha!
Ironically, that's not what has been most applicable to me lately. When Jonathan first came to me with the notion of church planting, I rejected it immediately. There was no way I was walking away from my dream job. I had worked too hard and prayed too long to be a youth minister to give it up and chase some crazy idea of planting the Gospel elsewhere. I wanted to plant the Gospel in my teens. I wanted to teach awesome Sunday night devotionals, have true, heartfelt worship with new songs, play stupid games and go to camp. That might sound like a Japanese torture chamber to some of you, but that's the life I love and I wasn't going to give it up.
But God had other plans. Slowly and painfully, he began prying my fingers off of my life. He was gentle but insistent. He claimed that I had given Him my heart and my "yes" years ago, and now He was calling in His marker. I remember nights of weeping and wailing (yes, quite literally) at Jonathan for this transgression of "bait and switch" he had pulled on me. I had married a youth minister and now he was going to be a pastor! I was going to have to give up my hip faded jeans and American Eagle waffle shirts and wear flowery dresses and white pumps and sit on the front row! That's what a pastor's wife did! Ugh! I didn't even know how to play piano!
But as God began thawing my heart (and sometimes with a blow torch), I began falling in love with not only Him again, but with His vision for reaching lost people. I had no idea how to plant a church, how to be a pastor's wife, how to support my husband and raise our 3 kids, how to raise support or even how to ask for help. But I did know Him, and He who called is faithful!
I remember the night I looked at Jonathan, nodded in assent and said, "Ok. I will follow you into dark" I didn't mean it emo. I wasn't going to slit my wrists. But I was going to surrender to God, submit to my husband and hand-in-hand we were going to walk off the cliff trusting God to make the tight-rope appear that He had called us walk on.
I find myself saying that a lot to God these days. "I'm following You in the dark right now, Lord" I'm not sure how we're going to sell this house, find money to move, leave our friends and family and strike out into the wild blue yonder, but I know we won't be doing it Alone. I know we're following the One who called us on this journey and is leading out ahead of us.
We're still following Him in the dark, and Jesus' love hasn't failed us yet.
"Thus far as the Lord been faithful--Ebenezer"
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Silly Scared Me (or how I got my wisdom teeth out)
So, I had my wisdom teeth out Monday.
That was terrifying! I was so scared going in that room. My hubby had to wait in the waiting room with my 2 little ones and I had to go back by myself. I was petrified. After the nurse left to go get all the stuff, I started shaking I was so scared. So I started praying really hard for peace. I felt a bit silly about all of that, and asked God if I was really selfish for wanting Him to be with me when there were probably people being tortured for their faith somewhere. Why couldn't I put on my big-girl panties and quit blubbering? But I felt totally convicted that first off, prayer is not something we can do AND worry. We either pray or we worry, but we can't do both. Worry is prayer; it's just prayer to ourselves, which is of course impotent and pointless. Prayer is to a Sovereign God and is potent and useful. But worry with prayer is faithless and not pleasing to God. Secondly, He loves me! As usual, I keep forgetting that. I care when my kids are scared to jump off the bottom step of the stairs. I know it's silly and they'll be fine, but I care that their hearts are quaking. So God cares when I'm silly and spineless too. And I just got really humble and asked Him to be there with me in that moment and let me feel His presence there. Everything sort of shifted and felt better. I'm learning to ask Him for what I need spiritually as well as physically. I've always thought I could ask him for tangible things (healing, food, money), but I was supposed to create the spiritual things that were required (faith, peace, patience). How ridiculous! So, I just asked Him for the faith to believe He was with me, the peace to rest in Him and the love to have for Him. He's always faithful to answer those prayers.
Back to my traumatic story:
Then they put on the laughing gas, and it got much better! Ha! I know why they call it laughing gas, but I also think it's mean to call it that. I thought to myself, "This is laughing gas, so whatever you do--don't laugh!" So, of course, all I wanted to do was laugh hysterically. I managed to control it down to a really big grin, but I know the nurse was on to me, cause she was laughing at me grinning like a loon.
But I hate anesthesia! They were putting a pillow under my left arm, asking me about Ibuprofen, then they walked behind me to go around to the other side and put a pillow there, then they got me up out of bed and took me in a wheelchair to recovery! Seriously. I know that I went under, they performed minor surgery and then woke me up. But that's not my memory. You know when you're asleep, part of you knows you are asleep. And when you wake up, you know you've been asleep. This was NOT like that. I lost time. I blacked out. I time warped to 30 minutes in the future. It was unsettling, and frankly, terrifying to me. I started to cry. The nurse thought I was in pain, which was ridiculous because I was so numbed up and doped out I couldn't move my mouth. But my husband knew what was going on (and that my blood sugar was low). It was worth it (or will be when I finish healing) to have the pain from my wisdom teeth gone. But I hope I don't have to go under again! Yikes! However, God is so good, and used this scary experience to show Himself and his tender love for me to silly, scared me!
That was terrifying! I was so scared going in that room. My hubby had to wait in the waiting room with my 2 little ones and I had to go back by myself. I was petrified. After the nurse left to go get all the stuff, I started shaking I was so scared. So I started praying really hard for peace. I felt a bit silly about all of that, and asked God if I was really selfish for wanting Him to be with me when there were probably people being tortured for their faith somewhere. Why couldn't I put on my big-girl panties and quit blubbering? But I felt totally convicted that first off, prayer is not something we can do AND worry. We either pray or we worry, but we can't do both. Worry is prayer; it's just prayer to ourselves, which is of course impotent and pointless. Prayer is to a Sovereign God and is potent and useful. But worry with prayer is faithless and not pleasing to God. Secondly, He loves me! As usual, I keep forgetting that. I care when my kids are scared to jump off the bottom step of the stairs. I know it's silly and they'll be fine, but I care that their hearts are quaking. So God cares when I'm silly and spineless too. And I just got really humble and asked Him to be there with me in that moment and let me feel His presence there. Everything sort of shifted and felt better. I'm learning to ask Him for what I need spiritually as well as physically. I've always thought I could ask him for tangible things (healing, food, money), but I was supposed to create the spiritual things that were required (faith, peace, patience). How ridiculous! So, I just asked Him for the faith to believe He was with me, the peace to rest in Him and the love to have for Him. He's always faithful to answer those prayers.
Back to my traumatic story:
Then they put on the laughing gas, and it got much better! Ha! I know why they call it laughing gas, but I also think it's mean to call it that. I thought to myself, "This is laughing gas, so whatever you do--don't laugh!" So, of course, all I wanted to do was laugh hysterically. I managed to control it down to a really big grin, but I know the nurse was on to me, cause she was laughing at me grinning like a loon.
But I hate anesthesia! They were putting a pillow under my left arm, asking me about Ibuprofen, then they walked behind me to go around to the other side and put a pillow there, then they got me up out of bed and took me in a wheelchair to recovery! Seriously. I know that I went under, they performed minor surgery and then woke me up. But that's not my memory. You know when you're asleep, part of you knows you are asleep. And when you wake up, you know you've been asleep. This was NOT like that. I lost time. I blacked out. I time warped to 30 minutes in the future. It was unsettling, and frankly, terrifying to me. I started to cry. The nurse thought I was in pain, which was ridiculous because I was so numbed up and doped out I couldn't move my mouth. But my husband knew what was going on (and that my blood sugar was low). It was worth it (or will be when I finish healing) to have the pain from my wisdom teeth gone. But I hope I don't have to go under again! Yikes! However, God is so good, and used this scary experience to show Himself and his tender love for me to silly, scared me!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)