Putting Marriage to the Test

Marriage is a funny thing. We are joined to this person we want to protect at all costs but seem to spend an inordinate amount of time protecting them from ourselves. We hide what we think are the worst parts of ourselves from them so as not to irritate them or hurt them or scare them off. They're not going anywhere --usually --they're too busy doing the same thing! It is when we allow those rough edges to be worked out with love in the safety of the relationship, that the relationship can really take its true form. We learn this through Peter's denial in Luke 22:1-22. Jesus had just finished instituting for His disciples and, by extension, all of us, a ceremony of remembrance, Communion. He washed their feet, told them of His impending suffering, and revealed one of them would betray Him to the authorities who wish to kill Him. Their response? They begin to argue as to which of them is more deserving of honor. Imagine announcing you are terminal, and your friends start arguing as to who will give the eulogy and who will get stuck working the parking lot. Jesus corrects Simon specifically (Luke 22:31, 32):

Simon, Simon! Indeed, Satan has asked for you, that he may sift you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, that your faith should not fail; and when you have returned to Me, strengthen your brethren.

First of all, Jesus didn't stop the work of the enemy in Peter's life. He certainly had the power to do so, but He says that Peter was going to be sifted. It was a done deal, a sure thing. As much as Jesus loved His brother, both would submit to this test of their relationship. In part, Peter needed to know where he stood when things got messy, and Jesus, Friend that He is, was willing to take the risk of Peter failing the test. 

Fail he did. In Jesus' final, loneliest hours, Peter turned his back on Him. Imagine the grief! As Peter heard the report that His friend was dead, he would recall their final encounter --a look from across the courtyard as Peter cursed Jesus' name. Imagine the shame! The temptation would come, and with it, fracture. Peter would know exactly who he was. More painfully, Peter would know that Jesus knew exactly who he was. Jesus is omniscient; I don't mean that He didn't know --of course He did; but you know Peter, in his arrogance just as we are in ours, thought he was getting over. He thought there were things about him that Jesus didn't know. Even his response --Lord, I am ready to go with You, both to prison and to death --was not only naive but filled with hubris. When we withhold our true selves from those with whom we are in relationship, not only do we insult their intelligence and deny them the opportunity of showing us grace, but we rob ourselves of the reality check we all need from time to time. Just as Peter was certain he would weather whatever storm made landfall, we take assurance in our performance as spouses or friends, pledging our utmost, but incapable --really --of presenting even a naked conscience.

Secondly, Jesus prayed for His friend. Jesus knew Peter's heart and was, therefore, able to pray accordingly; He knows ours and makes intercession as well. Shouldn't we afford our spouses with the same opportunity? If we are intent on hiding from them the deepest despairs, inadequacies, and vexations of our heart, how can they be enabled to pray? So long as we only show them what we believe to be the "best" of ourselves, how can they be blessed by interceding for us? And interceding for others is a blessing! The opportunity to watch God work in the life of the petitioner and the one for whom they plead is a gift. 

As is the gift of encouragement. In the latter part of Luke 22:32, Jesus assures Peter, "When you have returned to Me..." This means he would depart from Jesus, their relationship would be broken, but only for a time! Peter would return to Jesus. Jesus encourages His friend despite the wound He would receive by his denial. Though our spouses may not know the outcome of every fault or doubt, every wart or scar we reveal, what a blessed fusion it is to have someone encourage you through the worst of times as you endure them together --even if they themselves might suffer injury. 

Lastly, a rising tide lifts all boats. Jesus' words at the end of verse 32, are a direction to Peter to use the experience to strengthen others, a charge that goes beyond the scope of their relationship alone and is designed to edify those around them. Marriage is a picture of Christ's love for His Bride, the Church. As we walk this out, loving and elevating one another, the whole of society is lifted. The ugliness, the forgiveness, the encouragement, the transformation, the trials, the tears, the celebrations --all we experience within the confines of a loving relationship with our spouses is good for all of humanity. Providing we are willing to take the risk, show ourselves, and trust our spouse to love us as they have vowed to do.

Midweek: No Longer at War

I just heard someone say that transgenderism is the act of "waging war on your body," and I felt that. I felt that because in my teens and into my twenties, it was safer for me to "be male." I didn't want to be male, necessarily, but it was safer for me to put on an outward appearance of (what I thought were) predominantly male characteristics. I cussed --A LOT --and the more vulgar, the better. I smoked, drank, yelled, fought, and pushed people around as much as I could. I took a job in a male dominated industry. I wore jeans and concert t's; I cut my hair and lifted weights. I hung out with guys my age and learned as much as I could about cars and sports. I was tough. Now, I'd always loved climbing trees and playing in the mud; and when I was choosing to wear male clothing and engage in male activities, I was happy to rock a great pair of heels and match all of my accessories just to go shopping. There was never anyone encouraging me to take the leap, just transition, live in the way that makes you happy. Even if they had been there, I was happy being both! Was I trans? Was I non-binary? Was I --pick a label? No, I was a woman who felt threatened, a woman who had grown up with some untrustworthy people in her life, had no real clue how to choose trustworthy people (Thank God, He gave me some!), and continued, for lack of wisdom, to add untrustworthy people to her life. Additionally, my body type, how I felt about myself, the enjoyment I got out of woodworking with my uncle or hanging out in the bays of an auto repair shop --all of these things made me very uncomfortable in "Girl World." I wasn't safe being vulnerable with men or being equal with women. My solution was to be equal to men.

So many young women today feel the same. They're uncomfortable with the changes in their bodies beginning with puberty. They may not have June Cleaver standing behind them as they gaze into a mirror. You are beautiful! You are going through a difficult process that will make you into a woman. But you are beautiful now! Just hang in there. Since the "sexual revolution," moms themselves have been struggling with the expectation of bringing home the bacon and frying it up in the pan. Assuring our daughters of something of which we ourselves are not sure...well, here we are. Social media and its demonic worldviews are poised to pick up the slack, however. You're uncomfortable because you were made wrong. You are a male trapped in a female body. Medical technology is your friend, my friend! You can transition, and all of this will be fixed! No, no it won't. If these young women don't come to grips with their discomfort, they will go on believing a lie. Changing physical attributes are no more helpful to transforming one's life than they were in the '70s. Do you recall those body building ads of old, the ones from the back pages of magazines? A "90-pound weakling" would cower on the beach as bullies kicked sand in his face. In the following frame, a he-man hero would show up, recommending whatever product the ad was hawking. The advertiser's formula, classes --even wrist cuffs! --would transform a simp into a successful, muscle-bound ladies' man in no time. "Gender reassignment surgery" is nothing more than a disgusting euphemism for profiteering today. Confused, fearful, vulnerable, "at war" people are being mutilated and exploited for financial gain. Praise God I wasn't born thirty years later! I might have purchased the snake oil myself. 

When we choose to believe God is who He says He is, everything else flows from that. When we choose to believe He is truth, we will trust Him at His Word. When we choose to believe He is the perfect Designer and Creator, we will trust the way He created us and the cycles of development in our bodies. When we choose to believe He loves us, we will know that no matter how awkward or misplaced we feel, His love for us demands He remain with us in the worst of circumstances. When we choose to wait on the Lord, we will no longer be at war with our bodies, the place where His image resides, but we will see the beauty of His work as it nears completion. 

Why Jesus?

As a little girl, I heard about Jesus. He died so I wouldn't go to hell. What four-year old wants to go to hell? Tell any four-year old about hell, and they will ask Oscar the Grouch into their heart if that's what it takes. And what did it mean to ask someone into your heart anyway?

As I grew, I heard that God expected those who had His Son in their hearts to act a certain way. I was really bad at it. I didn't pray; I didn't read my Bible --I didn't even want to do those things. What I wanted was to be liked, to fit in. Fitting in with my friends and being a Bible reader didn't seem to go together at all. If Jesus was in my heart, why wasn't He doing anything about it?

By adulthood, I'd given up. Multiple altar calls hadn't changed me. I figured I'd have to wait until I matured or got it all out of my system or something. But there was still that hell thing. Would God grant me time before I died to ask Jesus into my heart? Would He even be willing to come in after all the times I'd disappointed Him?

I was in my thirties when I had a "come to Jesus" moment. I was so sad, felt so rejected, had no direction. So, I said one of those "God, I've made such a mess of my life" prayers. I asked Him to take over. I did pretty well letting Him for a few days; but when my circumstances didn't change --in fact, they got worse --I gave up. It was back to leeks and onions for me. Or, at least, that's what I thought.

Ten years later, and life had gotten waaaay more complicated. But I had offered my life to God, I'd asked Him to change me, and He doesn't take those sorts of conversations lightly. Thank Him! He is faithful even when we are not. Friends "just happened" to recommended books that challenged me. Another friend committed to praying with me regularly. Local radio stations began to irritate my spirit, and I found myself listening instead to Christian radio: the preachers were "so different" from those of my childhood! I developed an appetite for reading the Bible and --better than that --it suddenly made sense! I was going to Christian counseling and Bible study. Little by little, the things I found so difficult to desire, to enjoy, to do when I was a child, were now the moments for which I lived. I wanted better for myself and my children; I wanted to live, where before I'd contemplated how not to. I needed Jesus in a way I never had before. 

We all need Jesus. He is the only way to heaven --like it or not. The message I heard as a little girl is as basic as it gets. Without Him, there is no access to the Father God or to heaven. Without Him the only remaining option is hell. But without Him there's also no reason to want heaven. Heaven is where God is; He is there with His Son whom we know as Jesus. Are there streets of gold? The Bible says there are. Gates made of pearl? The Bible says there are. But would you spend the rest of eternity with someone you have always hated, someone you've always rejected just so you could live in his swanky crib? No, but I don't want hell either. Well, my friend, then you have a choice, and no one can make it for you but you. Who will you serve? 

In serving Jesus, there is such a blessedness, such a growth, such a level of adventure. He has made my life better, richer, bigger. He has placed in my heart a love for others and a peace I could have never achieved on my own. I have vision and direction; a clarity of purpose I never had without Him. And, perhaps, there are those out there who can live better, richer, bigger without Him. Maybe there are those who love without Him and have peace all on their own. Maybe there are people who were just born with vision and purpose and fullness. But there's no one who can have a relationship with their Creator without Him. Though He is more than fire insurance, fire insurance is what we all need. By His grace, however, He grants and calls us to be more than policy holders. He allows us to steward His resources for His glory --not in a dehumanizing, sycophantic way, but in a way that completes us, allows us to be more fully who we were designed to be. So, why Jesus? Why not?