What Passion Looks Like

Do you remember General Hospital circa 1979? I was glued to my television for that hour everyday -- and then to the telephone for more than two hours afterward; it was all my friends and I could talk about! Nothing -- I mean NO thing could keep me from Luke, Laura, and Scorpio. Remember the guy with the weather changing machine? Mikkos Cassadine. Remember we had an unusual cold snap for a week or two that summer? I was hooked! I stayed faithful to "my show" for two or three years after that, but eventually I woke up to the fact the plot was always the same -- just new scenarios and not so new characters. Besides, I was in my last year of high school -- life was calling. Even after all these years though, it doesn't take much to be transported back to those days: the excitement of daily cliff-hangers, the challenge of guessing plot lines, and the thrill at getting them right. People love passion and mystery. Well, let me show you what God's passion is all about.

Micah 6:5b:

"I, the LORD, did everything I could to teach you about My faithfulness."

My first response was, "Wow! Everything God could possibly do?! That's sayin' something." But, knowing the translation I use for everyday reading is a bit loose, I checked other translations to see how they rendered those words:

"So that you might know all the righteous acts of the LORD." 

Not exactly the same. The other translations seemed to be saying not so much that God pulled out all the stops in His effort to be made known, but that He withheld nothing; He desired to be completely revealed to His chosen people.

Well, I don't think either is completely right, or utterly wrong. What parent doesn't do everything in his power to get through to a child whose behavior is self-destructive? What lover doesn't give all he has to make sure the one he pursues knows just how special she is to him, and what he is willing to do for her? Why would God be any lazier or less interested than we? Matthew 7:9-11 talks about our Heavenly Father as the giver of good gifts, contending that if sinful, finite people will do whatever it takes to bless friends and family, how much more a holy, perfect God with unlimited resources and boundless imagination. Wouldn't that same God be extraordinary in the pursuit and revelation department? Wouldn't He pull out all the stops just so you would know Him -- all of Him?

Relationship with God is not some guessing game. We don't have to sit around searching the sky for signs, or reading tea leaves, or guessing the next plot twist. God reveals Himself and His will to us in a myriad of ways (His Word, Creation, prayer and worship, other believers, events, etc.), we just have to seek Him with all our heart. I tuned in each and every day to see what my favorite characters were up to. I yelled out to the television when danger lurked around the next bend. I talked with others and shared my thoughts; rehashed episode after episode. I would have moved heaven and earth to place myself in front of that television by 2:59, Monday through Friday. God wants -- will pull out all the stops -- to reveal Himself -- all of Himself -- to me. Am I seeking Him with the same passion? Am I tuning in through prayer and Scripture reading? Am I crying out to Him? Do I share with others and meet regularly with other believers to discuss what God has revealed to me or done for me as of late? Would I move heaven and earth just to meet with Him? Micah 6:5b tells me He would do that for me.

What Did You Say?

It was shortly after my husband and I separated. For months I'd been applying Band-Aids to my childcare situation, using a rotation of parents and oh-so generous friends -- none of whom I wished to impose upon indefinitely. I was struggling financially, and while additional hours were available at work during the holiday season... childcare. I was homeschooling when I wasn't working; the dissolution of our marriage, though a long time coming, was difficult, to say the least. It was Christmas, a time of joy and promise, and I was emotionally and physically tapped. As I stepped out on my front porch in the wee hours of a frigid December morning, preparing to go to work, my neighbor -- a notorious nightowl -- was hanging Christmas lights. I'm not sure if we exchanged pleasantries or any other remarks; I only remember her words: "Have a good night; I love you." At a moment when the night was not the only thing in my life void of light; at a moment when loneliness was something I dared not even consider lest it consume me without a fight, there was love. She spoke the words with such authenticity and ease. Those words changed the course of not only my workday, but have warmed me and encouraged me every time I've thought it since.

This morning I was reading Micah 6. God is defending His actions toward Israel (not that they had any just cause against Him). Of all the things He could have used to defend His character or His provision for them -- crossing the Red Sea, quail falling from the sky in quantities so large they gorged themselves, remaining forever with them in fire and cloud -- He uses the account of King Balak sending Balaam to curse God's chosen people, Micah 6:5 reads:

"Don’t you remember, my people, 

how King Balak of Moab tried to have you cursed

         and how Balaam son of Beor blessed you instead?"

God did not even interact with, or directly bless His people in this circumstance; He merely intervened to stop the plans of a wicked king and his lackey. So why, of all things would God use this occasion as proof of His love for Israel? Among other things, God knows the power of the spoken word. He knows what we can do, what we feel when we lift up our voices in praise to Him (James 4:6-8). He knows how important it is for us to be in agreement with Him about who we are and where we fail (2 Timothy 2:21). He longs to hear us speak our requests to Him and tell us what is on our minds (1 Timothy 2:1-3).  God spoke the universe into existence (Gen. 1); His Word is sharper than any two-edged sword (Heb. 4:12) and is a complete source for sanctifying and equipping His saints (2 Timothy 3:16-17). The power of words.

In this "intelligent and enlightened" society, hate speech is so prevalent it requires laws to prevent it. We tell ourselves lies about valuing and respecting diversity, while truthfully we fear and hate it to its very core. Technology has made it almost effortless to contact someone on the other side of the world, in some of the most remote locations, yet type of education or familiarity has not taught us the value of uniqueness, made our world any more smaller or unified. Our speech vilifies and condemns people that appear the least bit different, or live life in a way we consider strange, or express an opinion that sounds even a bit unlike our own. How sad that we speak curses on one another simply because we are different. What would be possible, if we were to speak words of love, encouragement, blessing? I found out in the yellow-white glow of artificial icicles.

Grumbling in My Tent

I really dislike Tuesdays. I'm not a huge fan of the rest of the work week, but I really dislike Tuesdays. Tuesday is my first day of the week. Tuesday is Monday, but Monday is Sunday; so Mondays are ok -- for me anyway -- but Tuesdays? Eyuck.  This past Tuesday I was in a particularly unpleasant mood: aside from the calendar, my daughter and her husband were in town, and I was unable to have the day off -- not that we would actually be doing much at that hour of the day, but sometimes I really hate going to bed earlier than most four year-olds. So, I had to work; I'd been to a funeral days before that set me to thinking about my mother's advanced age; my husband was in a funk over some things he was experiencing; I had dealt with some family drama that will result in some permanent changes, and I'd dealt with some family drama that will not change anything at all; and last but not least, I was sick. Rotten Tuesday across the board.

A couple of days later I was reading Psalm 106:24-25:

                         "The people refused to enter the pleasant land,
                           for they wouldn't believe His promise to care for them.
                           Instead they grumbled in their tents,
                           and refused to obey the Lord."

Now, the pleasant land was the land God had promised to His people long ago; a land "flowing with milk and honey." If you think about the production of milk, it can only be produced in abundance ("flowing") if the animals are healthy, well-fed and well cared for. According to Jewish Midrash, milk symbolizes superior quality, richness of taste, and nourishment. When we think of fruit nectar, as some suspect was meant by "honey," it can only flow in likewise fertile, well-maintained lands. Bees' honey is extremely sweet and versatile, and its cost is evidence of the scarcity and labor intensive production of quality honey. In short, why would anyone in their right mind refuse to go there?!

Briefly, sin puts us in a very wrong mind -- usually a self-indulgent mind, a mind that insists on doing things strictly in a way most comfortable or familiar to it. It's not easy to trust the unseen; many people would choose a familiar slavery over an unknown freedom. I might refuse dessert (a pleasant thing) because of the consequences (its unhealthy or fatty nature that contradicts its pleasantness). The pleasant things of God however, can have no downside because He Himself is only good. Refusing the goodness of God calls into question His very nature, as if there can be a hidden liability.

So what did the Israelites who called God's nature into question do? They dug in. Like petulant children who know little but self, impulse, ignorance and immaturity, they grumbled in their tents and refused to obey God. I don't know if you're a camper, but I love camping -- it's staying in the tent I don't like so much. It's crowded, the ground is lumpy, and then there's that smell. And that's twenty-first century camping! Let's face it, it was a desert, these people were accompanied by many animals, and they didn't use deodorant -- the animals or the people! So because God wanted things done His way, because they were in the wrong mind, they refused a land flowing with milk and honey, and chose to grumble in their hot, smelly, crowded tents instead.

Immediately my mind went back to Tuesday. What did I do with all those hurt, annoyed, uncomfortable, ugly feelings? I did, I laid them at the feet of the only One who can do anything good with them. I learned (the hard way, of course) a long time ago, grumbling in my tent gets me nothing but sweaty, smelly, and possibly eaten by a bear.

For My Husband and Best Friend

Have you ever had a dream? Not the kind you have when you're sleeping, but a big dream; the kind that is so heavy on your soul you can't seem to shake it, you always keep coming back to it; like a fly buzzing at the window pane, it looks like where you want to go, there must be a way toward it. One day, you stop and really look at your life, and there's not a remnant of that dream left anywhere; nothing you have, nothing you are, nothing you see even remotely looks like your dream. It's then you realize just how much it truly meant to you.

I had such a dream. It was big. I'm not a dreamer by nature, or at least I didn't think I was. But looking back, I realize just how big, how much of a long shot this really was. I met someone who was wonderful, who swept me off my feet, I guess you could say. I trusted this person enough to dream with them, about them; to even dream their dream. But this person was only made of flesh and bone; this person was limited by the same things that limit the rest of us: time, health, strength, knowledge, resources, humanity. And each one of those things crept in one by one and stole our dream from us.

Today I looked at what we have, at what we have become. We are so far from the dream we had. But little by little our dream slipped away. No one was at fault; no one was slacking off, or got off track. No one forgot the dream or tried to dream another dream. "Life happened." Isn't that what they say? "Life happened." Not everyone in our dream shared our dream. Not everyone outside of our dream wanted to stay there. Not everyone in our dream stayed healthy or fit for the task. Not everyone inside our dream played by the rules.

When we dreamed our dream, I distinctly recall laughter, but the days I recall now bring me to tears. When we closed our eyes, we saw youth and dancing, but when I open them now I see pages falling from the calendar and adults who were once children. When we looked up at the stars and spoke into our future, there were fun-filled days and sweet, cozy nights; but my days can be lonely, and so can his nights. Our dream was healthy and strong and comfortable; but reality has dealt its share of damaging blows and what I see bears their mark.

But we are together, and we are as one. And if we never dream another dream, you are my dream come true.