Is It Faith or a Lack of Options?

As I watched our youngest in the pool, my mind went back to the days when our "middle set" of children were small. Jump! C'mon, Daddy will catch you. Just jump! Swing sets and pool sides demanded courage they were not quite certain they had. But Daddy was always there to catch them. Did they have to jump? No, of course not. But their daddy was so convincing, had proven himself so trustworthy, and they were confident to try something --even apparently risky --because the one they loved and knew would always hold them up was encouraging them to do it. Oh, to have the faith of a child! But grown-ups have resources. We can reach the bottom of the pool. We can climb to the top of the ladder. We can interview for the dream job, cast our vote for a candidate, speak out against injustice, fix the air conditioner, even lower our own blood pressure through proper diet and exercise. We have so many talents and techniques at our disposal. Why would we ever need to trust anyone?

My husband and I have had some REALLY BIG things happen in our life --not all good. In fact, some things have been downright awful, but every time, I've sat in my office, my Bible open before me, and said, "Jesus, I trust You, no matter what!" Long story short, I have. I've "demonstrated great faith in difficult times." Or, at least, that's what my hubris seemed to reassure. But is it really faith when you're out of options? Is it really faith when your back is against the wall and there's nothing you can do to change the circumstances? Trust me, it's not. In fact, it's a tremendous offense. To say I trust God only because I'm in a situation in which I need Him, a situation in which only He can make things good, is an awful, awful testimony and an even worse way to be His. Like some vending machine in the sky, I seek Him for the tough stuff and handle the rest myself. Although I talk to Him throughout the day, I read His Word, I want to serve Him and please Him, my role in our relationship has proven to be self-serving. 

How can I wholeheartedly, unquestioningly, consistently obey? I can't! Hence, the bad behavior! At least, not on my own. Even the Apostle Paul realized the struggle between zealously wanting to do what God requires and his sinful, maybe knee-jerk reactions that were clearly disobedient but profoundly part of his behavior. I can't control the dog who did a burnout on the hardwoods because the child I can't control panicked over the bee he let in when he checked the mail full of bills which I can't control because my husband's been out of work because customers I can't control are hesitant about spending money in a market I can't control. And so on, and so on until all the donuts are gone and I've lost my mind pacing and snapping at people because I just want to run away. Fear. Lack of control. And no faith. Hand me a terminal diagnosis or a notice of foreclosure any day: you'll see steadfastness, "faith" beyond explanation. Only because of the lack of options. But hand me a day packed with uncertainty and quirks and left turns from the right lane and the need for follow-up emails to follow-up emails and people excitedly chattering about their day while I'm trying to think and dinner that refuses to cook itself, and watch me lose my mind; see what "true faith" I have.

Praise God for His abundant mercy! He is, by the work of His Holy Spirit teaching me faith for the little foxes that will, if given time and opportunity, decimate the vineyard --His vineyard. I am His, and He will use me for His glory. And here is a wonderful reassurance: not only will He continue to transform me so that I am equipped to bring Him glory, but it is also the process of that transformation, the work He does through the circumstances we encounter that brings Him glory! He gets it whether I comply or not --because of His mercy, because of His forbearance, because of His grace, because of His benevolence, because of His sovereignty... He gets His fame whether I live long enough to eagerly, obediently, without hesitation leave the safety and security of the pool side or not! He will have His honor whether I shove Him to the side and choose to employ the resources at my disposal or not. But how gracious He is to beckon each of us, to ask us to fall willingly into His arms whether we see other options or not!

Midweek: Savoring This Season

What seems mere days ago, I was anticipating the beginning of Summer. What would we like to do once school is out? Possibility: how on earth will we fill the time? How will my teaching schedule acquiesce to my duties as a full-time mother? Logistics: how on earth will this work? And yet, here we are, with this season drawing so rapidly to a close once again. The question of possibilities was answered in abundance with a scarcity of time. The question of logistics was answered with the cooperation and support of many in our community. By God's grace, this season has not only been survived but savored!

Not every season is enjoyable. Not every season appears bearable or possible at the outset. But it is seasons we all undergo. In 1623, John Donne, as he suffered through an unknown and debilitating illness wrote a series of devotions which were later published in Devotions Upon Emergent Occasions. To read the excerpt I choose to share with you today, one has to grasp the severity of Donne's situation. During this time, crowding, poor sanitation, and an influx of people from all over the globe caused a series of diseases to barrage England and take many to their graves. Donne had no idea which if any of these infirmities ravaged his body; he could only surmise from his affliction that this would indeed end in death. He remained isolated (due to the fear of contagion) and bedridden for months. Without answers, community, vocation, health, even the strength to leave his bed, Donne boldly and faithfully used such a season to fix his eyes on the One who not only had permitted it but remained with him in it. His suffering was a blessing to us all.        

O MOST mighty and most merciful God, who, though Thou have taken me off of my feet, hast not taken me off of my foundation, which is Thyself; who, though Thou have removed me from that upright form in which I could stand and see Thy throne, the heavens, yet hast not removed from me that light by which I can lie and see Thyself; who, though Thou have weakened my bodily knees, that they cannot bow to Thee, hast yet left me the knees of my heart; which are bowed unto Thee evermore; as Thou hast made this bed Thine altar, make me Thy sacrifice; and as Thou makest Thy Son Christ Jesus the priest, so make me His deacon, to minister to Him in a cheerful surrender of my body and soul to Thy pleasure, by His hands. I come unto Thee, O God, my God, I come unto Thee, so as I can come, I come to Thee, by embracing Thy coming to me, I come in the confidence, and in the application of thy servant David's promise, that Thou wilt make all my bed in my sickness; all my bed; that which way soever I turn, I may turn to Thee; and as I feel Thy hand upon all my body, so I may find it upon all my bed, and see all my corrections, and all my refreshings to flow from one in the same, and all from Thy hand.

By God's grace, Donne survived this illness; it was but for a season. His determination to worship and to serve in whatever capacity made available to him is an encouragement to all of us in our seasons. When time is in abundance and you are uncertain how to fill it, seek and pray for the Lord to teach you stewardship. When obligations are many and you cannot see how you will ever manage to fill them well, seek and pray for the Lord to send laborers to help. When your eyes are failing, your body is weak, and you are unable to rise from your bed, seek and pray, for God will hear your praises no matter in what condition you find yourself! 

Celebrating Today

I come from the era of Photomat and disposal flashcubes. IYKYK. My mother was uncompromising in her requirement that photos would be taken at every holiday and properly labeled with names and dates. As my brother and I aged, and I ceased amputating limbs and decapitating relatives in my holiday pictures, Mom relied less on my father to handle the family photographs. But that was it. I wasn't the type to gather my friends and stage a pyramid on the beach or capture sunsets. It wasn't until I had children that I picked up the camera again. And I was relentless. Every smile, every wave was mine to capture. And every picture was precious to me. Album after album lined our shelves, preserving fleeting moments of childhood and innocence. Every once in a while, when I scour the hundreds (thousands?) of photos I have printed, on flash drives, in the cloud, or on my phone, I feel the ache in my heart, the longing to return to those days. (Days which I thought were so difficult at the time.) 

This summer, has felt, to me, like a summer of waiting. Waiting for work to pick up as it usually does in the early months of the year but hasn't seemed to even yet. Waiting for money to arrive so we can "do something cool" during our youngest's days off of school. Waiting for some sort of answer with regard to my husband's health. Waiting for the appointment I made with a new doctor months ago (only to have to reschedule because of a paperwork error). Waiting for our daughter and her husband to leave the country so that reality can begin to take hold. Yes, I am a jump straight into a frigid pool, rip that bandage right off kinda girl. Waiting for all of my efforts to serve God more obediently and more consistently to finally feel normal and comfortable instead of clumsy and difficult. Waiting for schedules to coincide so we can have those much talked about dinners with friends and family.

If we're not careful, we will spend our lives either looking back or looking forward without looking at the glory that is right before our eyes. Rather than enjoying the sunrise, we'll be anticipating breakfast. Rather than enjoying the imagination of our children, we'll be obsessing over their GPAs or their future credit scores. Rather than waiting on God, we'll be waiting on that thing or that moment. Our presence, our being present wherever we are will always be secondary to something else. So, what do we do?

Get help. Huh? I know, it might sound a little crazy, but help comes in all sorts of packages. Help might be as simple as putting on some music or as serious as joining a 12-Step program. I'm choosing the latter. All of this waiting has me in such a downward spiral of emotion, such a place of distraction; I'm trying to alter my mindset to one of being present and grateful, slowing things down and really thinking about this very moment. Find what it takes to bring you into the present, to make you fully aware of the things you are saying or the choices you are making. Find ways to be grateful --not just things to be grateful for, but ways to express your gratitude to your Creator and King. Dig deep to those places in your heart where ingratitude and pride have taken root. Fill them with confession and light. And just stop. Look at the calendar or smell the towels you're folding; listen to the laughter coming from the other room or watch the chamois soak up each drop as you drag it across the slick black paint of the hood; feel the warmth in the soft, rosy cheeks of your wriggling, teething child; taste the nothingness of fresh, cool water; determine to be present and steep yourself in the nowness you have been given. And gratitude will begin to bloom. And with that gratitude, a right perspective on all we have, all we are, and all God has called us to be. The present will become the place where you want most to be. And God will be with you there --no matter how much of your past has been lost or how much of your future seems uncertain.

Photo courtesy LuAnn Martin