Oh,Susanna.....Won't You Cry for Us?

  

     This past summer my husband and I visited London to celebrate his 40th birthday.  We haven't done much world travel, so this was a big trip for us.  While we were there we visited the National Gallery.  It was unlike anything I have ever seen.  Thousands of paintings by the most world renowned artists adorned its walls.  There was a sense of experiencing something much larger than oneself, generations of art and emotion everywhere.  Many of the paintings were religious in nature.  There were so many beautiful paintings of Christ and a plethora of other Biblical characters.  But as we looked around, a painting caught my eye that confused me.  It was a painting of the Biblical account of Susanna and the Elders.  Brian and I looked at each other and asked "Who is Susanna?".  I couldn't remember ever learning about her in a Bible class or reading that name in my Bible.  So I looked up the story on my phone out of curiosity and found out that it was a part of the Apocrypha - writings that are included in the Roman Catholic and Greek Orthodox Bibles that were omitted from the Protestant Bible because they are not in the Hebrew Bible.  This past week I got to study the apocrypha again in my class and the story of Susanna hit me even harder in light of what is going on right now in our culture.  Allow me to explain.
      Susanna was a godly, married woman.  She was bathing in her garden when two elders saw her and were attracted to her.  They approached her as she tried to return to her home and told her that unless she agreed to have sex with them they would accuse her of committing adultery with a young man.  Susanna refused to comply, and they had her arrested and convicted to death.  But a man named Daniel (this story is in the Greek book of Daniel) interrupts the proceedings and insists that they should question the elders to prevent the death of an innocent woman.  The two elders are cross-examined to get their account of finding Susanna committing adultery with the young man.  Their details do not match when they name two very different types of trees as the meeting place.  Their lies are revealed, and instead of Susanna dying, the two elders are put to death.
      Now, I have no idea if this story actually happened, but clearly this was a concern in society even in the times when the Biblical canon was being formed.  Imagine Susanna, a woman in a man's society.  She is threatened by "elders" who I would assume would be a very intimidating force.  And she refuses to let them use her.  She doesn't give in to the system that tells her that she is merely a woman and has to take whatever a man may throw at her.  She stands up for herself even if it means death.  And who comes to her defense, but a man?  A good man came to her defense.  And a good man stopped the bad men from succeeding in their evil. 
     Almost every day right now in the news we are hearing of another big name who is accused of sexual abuse or misconduct.  Men are losing their jobs and their good names.  Women who have been silent for years, carrying their scars in every moment of their lives, are speaking out and saying "me too".  There is a movement of women (and men) who have been abused banding together and saying "THIS STOPS NOW".  And it is a beautiful and utterly devastating moment in our history.  Beautiful because the darkness is being brought to light and the perpetrators can no longer hide.  Devastating because the broad spectrum of sexual sickness in our culture is being laid out on a table in plain sight for all of us to see.  I am in a couple of Facebook groups who have had discussions about this topic and the testimonies from women and men there are devastating.  But the most devastating are the stories in my children's ministry group of children who are dealing with this right now.  And I have to be honest, you guys, I am mad.  I am mad that we live in a world where women and children are regularly victimized by sex-crazed men.  I am mad that we have a porn industry that brings in BILLIONS of dollars every year, and no one is calling out the fact that this is destroying our men (and some women) and ultimately leading to the kinds of crimes that are being committed by hijacking normal and healthy attitudes toward sex.  I am mad that sex has been turned into something that God never intended for it to be, and yet we wonder what has gone wrong.  The stories, the tears, the lives in pieces, the scars, the faces, they are almost too much to bear.  And that anger turns to grief.  And out of the grief something must happen. 
     Susanna may not have made it into my Bible, but I think she has something valuable to teach us right now.  First of all, she shows us the courage and strength of the woman who stands up and tells her story instead of hiding behind her fear of the more powerful aggressor.  When these women (and men) speak out, WE HAVE TO HONOR THEIR PAIN.  We have to listen and HEAR them.  Secondly, WE HAVE TO BE DANIEL.  Someone had to stand up for Susanna here.  She had no status to defend herself.  Had Daniel not stepped in, she would have died an innocent woman, and the evil men who accused her would have walked free.  There are people who need a Daniel.  They are afraid to speak up without it.  And, ladies, certainly we can stand up together and support each other.  Our voices matter, and they need to be heard.  But, men, we desperately need you here.  We have to have good men stepping up the plate and speaking out against sexual abuse.  We have to have men who are willing to take a stand against pornography and men's clubs.  We have to have men who will insist that women are equal to men and in no way lesser.  We have to have men who will stand up next to these women and say "NOT ME".  "I will never treat a woman like she is an object for my pleasure."  "I will never harm a child for my own gain."  "I will never condone this behavior by any of my fellow men."  "I won't feed into a pornography culture that is creating a bleak future for our boys and our girls."  Men, please start a "NOT ME" movement to remind us all that there are really good men in this world and to remind the men who have fallen that there is a better way to live.  The abusers of this world are broken.  They need you too.  They need to you model a sexually pure life.  They need the love of Jesus that can transform them.  And, Church, we have so much work to do in healing what has happened and continues to happen in our culture.  We have to realize that our buildings are full of people who have experienced this sickness from both sides, and we have to talk about the things that are hard to talk about.  And we have to STAND UP FOR THE OPPRESSED.  It is our mission.  It is our calling.  We can't be silent about this issue.  Be the Daniel for all the Susannas.  Be the Daniel.  BE THE DANIEL.  Otherwise the innocent will continue to fall. 

This Little Light of Mine

 

    Has anyone else been struggling to deal with the world around us?  It seems like every day there is another news story.  Sacred spaces are under vicious attack.  Our churches and schools are being pillaged by men with absurd weapons.  Sexual abuse runs rampant.  Pornography is stealing our boys and tainting our society.  Sex trafficking is occurring in our communities, and we are afraid to let our daughters out of our sight.  Every time I see a news story, another victim - another aggressor in desperate need of help.  And every time another woman (or man) says "Me Too" it feels like a punch in the gut.  Our celebrities are criminals, drunk on power and lacking in decency.  And their victims could fill stadiums.  The distortion of God's plan is glaring and obvious, and the world keeps spinning out of control.  And it sure seems like the people with the power to make changes have no intent to do so.  So what are we to do?  Where do we go from here?
     This morning I got to spend some time with 4-7 year olds.  I was teaching children's church, and we were singing songs from the "praise box".  This little box has manipulatives that go with each set of songs.  Well, it was time to get out the little flashlights.  The kids love them.  So we turned them on and started singing "This Little Light of Mine".  We were barely into the song when one little one asked if we could turn out the lights.  "Sure!", I said, so they turned them out.  It was immediately shocking to me how even in the light of day, turning out the lights made the little flashlights shine so much more brightly.  They were beautiful in the semi-darkness, bringing joy to the children and praise to the Lord.  And in that moment I knew the answer to the angst and pain that surrounds me.  In the darkness the light shines even brighter.  You see, darkness cannot block out light.  You cannot carry darkness into a fully lit space and drown out the light.  However, you can take even a small light into a darkened space and break through the darkness.  The reverse will never be true.  One is more powerful than the other.  They are not equal forces.  And light overpowers darkness every time.  The only way darkness can win the day is if the source of the light stops working or the light separates itself from the source.  We have a choice to make every day in the darkness.  We can let the darkness so overwhelm us that we turn off our light and give up.  Or we can let the darkness so motivate us that our light shines ever brighter, bringing stark and sudden contrast to the darkness.  And when light is held up to the darkness, what lurks in the darkness is exposed.  Exposure takes away power.  Sin and evil thrive in the darkness.  But in the exposure of light, they cannot stand.  We have the power of an endless source of light.  His name is Jesus. We just have to tap into him.  Darkness gives us an opportunity to shine more brightly than ever before.  But we cannot be afraid.  If we live in fear, we are just rolling in the dark.  So we shine the light, we expose the darkness, and we use all our energy to turn the darkness into light in our homes, our communities, our nation, our world.  We have the power.  We just have to use it.  I can't light up the entire world, but I can light up my little corner of it.  And you can light up yours.  And maybe if we just keep shining we can all turn the world upside down.

Take a Time-In

     The past couple of days I've been at a children's ministry conference.  It has been really busy and tiring but such a blessing.  My brain is chalked full of all kinds of great ideas and information.  I'm in that place of being completely inspired and slightly overwhelmed.  I have gotten lots of new resources and books.  Side note, I have a book problem.  Look, I'm just gonna admit it.  It's a sickness.  I love them.  I probably have 20 or so in my "want to read" stack already but I keep adding them.  If we won the lottery, I would just buy all the books.  Belle is my favorite Disney Princess for a reason.  If the Beast had given me that library, he would have instantly looked like Ryan Gosling or James Marsden in my eyes.  "What fur?  I love you, forever."  When the kids bring home scholastic brochures it takes all of my self control to not buy 20 of them.  Maybe I should start singing the "Fruits of the Spirit" song when I see that lovely flyer full of monthly specials.  If you know of a 12 step program for hopeless nerds who are unrealistic about the actual amount of time in a day, sign me up.   Anyway, back to the conference.  I have heard a lot of things in the past couple of days that have impacted me.  But this evening in my last class of the day the speaker said something that stopped me in my tracks.  She was talking about kids that are particularly difficult.  In her context she was referencing foster child situations she works with.  And then she said it.  She just breezed on by it like it wasn't profound or life changing.  She said "Instead of a time-out, we take a time-in."  And I caught my breath in my chest.

     Take a time-in.  I've been learning a lot lately about parenting to the heart of the child.  The thing about behavior modification is that it's just that - BEHAVIOR modification.  Now, when a child has a bad behavior, we want to modify it.  That is just the sane thing to want to do.  And it is a good thing to want to do.  As one of the speakers yesterday pointed out, psychologists like Pavlov gave us the useful methods that we call behaviorism.  We can train a dog with the sound of a bell.  We can make them salivate or do whatever if we condition them.  This is great information.  We have taken this information and applied to children - in the home, in the classroom, in the church, wherever.  The only problem is - kids aren't dogs.  So, we can train our kids to do the right things.  In fact, many would say that it is what parenting is all about.  There are a lot of people of people who will judge your parenting solely on whether or not and how quickly your kids fall into line when you blow the whistle.  The parent should be "in control".  The parent should be teaching the child how to behave.  And certainly there is some truth to be found here.  It IS our job to teach our children how to behave.  But MODELING is the ideal means to this end. 
     Molding our children into well behaved citizens is a great thing, but there is a major problem if you stop there.  If we simply treat the symptoms of our children's behavior and ignore the heart condition that precipitates the behavior we are raising robots.  They may behave as we say, but their hearts will at best be unchanged and at worst become hard and rusty.  Having to constantly vie for approval from your parents leaves a deep whole in the heart of a child.  If your parents are only interested in your good behavior, the message you will get is that it's all that matters.  And then you end up with this:  An adult person who does the "right things" in a legalistic sense, but has a corroded heart.  They might follow all the rules, but they might treat their waitress like crap.  They might make good money because they learned good behavior strategies, but they might be lonely and not like themselves.  Good behavior alone does not a joyful life make.  Separate from emotional health, it is void of meaning.  Jesus was consistently pointing this out.  In Matthew 23 he is talking to the Pharisees.  If you read the gospels you quickly find that the Pharisees, AKA the best behaved of all the people, were the ones that Jesus rebuked again and again.  In 23:25 he says this: "Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites!  You clean the outside of the bowl and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence.  Blind Pharisee!  First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside will also be clean.  What if we applied this teaching of Jesus to our parenting?  What if we cared more about the condition of the inside of our kids than we did about what someone else thinks about the appearance of the outside.  What if we spent our time connecting with their hearts and pouring love into the cracks in their souls.  What if instead of a time-out when they are in the wrong, we took a time-in and spent enough time with them to see what is actually going on in their hearts?  What if we then took the time to train and disciple their hearts in a way that would kill the root of the problem?  And what if during this whole process instead of casting them from our presence we stayed calm and connected with them?  I wonder what our families would look like. 
     A couple of weeks ago I did an "exegetical" assignment for my current graduate class on the book of 1 Kings 18 - Elijah and the Prophets of Baal.  This was the first assignment of this type I had done.  We are learning how to interpret scripture.  There was an entire long process we had to follow and a lot of questions to answer to the tune of 15 pages by the time it was finished.  I had one week to do this assignment.  For the first 10 pages I loved the assignment.  "This is so exciting.  I love diving so deeply into scripture.  This is fascinating.  I love graduate school so much.  Everyone is beautiful.  I hope we do this every week."  By the time I got to the last 5 pages I had decided that everything was stupid.  "This assignment is stupid.  Graduate school is stupid.  The prophets of Baal are stupid.  King Ahab is stupid.  I am too stupid for this class.  I was stupid to sign up.  It's just all stupid."  I found out that doing "exegesis" on a portion of scripture is basically looking at it so closely that if it were a person you were studying you would know how many nose hairs they have by the end of the process.  Help me Jesus, with the exegesis!  All in all it was a great learning experience though. 
     How does this relate to this post?  It does.  I promise.  As I was going through this process I had to answer the question about why I thought the prophets of Baal started to cut themselves and maim their bodies in an attempt to get their "god" to do what they had been asking all day long and send down fire upon the altar.  For me the obvious answer was that they truly believed that this "Baal" was a god who cared for them.  He wasn't doing what they wanted, so they thought maybe hurting themselves would get his attention.  If he cared for them he would act in order to keep them from hurting themselves.  And immediately it hit me.  This is what our children do.  They can't get our attention, so they will do all kinds of negative things to see if we will respond.  "Mom says she loves me, but I can't get her attention.  Maybe if I do something that worries her she will prove that she cares about me."  Our kids are fighting for our attention with so many things.  We are a busy society with so many commitments.  We work, we volunteer, we have hobbies, we have our television shows we just" have to watch".   And then there are the phones.  Y'all, I feel like I'm beating a dead horse here because it has been said many times, but our phones are stealing away gobs of attention from our children.  And let me be the first to raise my hand and say "guilty".  When people can reach you at anytime and anywhere, when you can check email messages from work from anywhere, when you can see what your friends from all periods of your life are up to on one site from anywhere, you start to do these things from EVERYWHERE.  And suddenly, there are no sacred places.  Their are no places where we are fully present.  Our kids are talking to us and we are responding to texts.  Our kids want to show us what they just made and we are sending that email.  They are begging us for connection and we are too connected to our phones to look into their eyes.  So maybe sometimes it isn't our kids that need a time-out.  Maybe sometimes our devices need a time out.  Maybe sometimes we need to put all the things that are on our to do list in a time-out.  Maybe our "Netflix binge" needs a timeout.  Maybe we need to put our need to be constantly productive in a time-out.  Maybe we need to put the opinions or expectations of others in a time-out.  And maybe we need to give our kids a TIME-IN.  Maybe we need to press into them and truly know them.  Maybe when their faults and weaknesses start shining through we should give them appropriate discipline, but make sure it includes generosity of spirit and a loving tone.  And then we should spend the time and do the heart work that is needed.  It is harder this way.  I requires more time this way.  It requires intentionality.  And sometimes people will even judge you, it's true.  But what you just might end up with down the road is a grown child that you launch into adult life as a wholehearted person.  You might have an imperfect person with a beautiful heart.  And I would much rather launch a beautiful heart into this world than a toy soldier.  Wouldn't you?  Every time I get intentional about spending quality time with my children their behavior improves.  EVERY. SINGLE. TIME.  Connection, love, empathy, guidance, approval, modeling - they will cost us more than yelling "Go to your room!".  But the interest returned in our wholehearted adult children will be well worth the investment. 

An Experiment in Being Different

     Once upon a time there was a 36 year old mother of four.  She went on a weekend girl's trip with her family to celebrate her sister's 40th birthday and made an interesting decision.  She dyed her hair purple.  And so began an accidental social experiment. 
     So, a few weeks ago I did something "crazy".  I cut my hair off and had purple streaks put in it.  I was out of town, away from all the responsibilities of life.  I had been thinking of getting my hair cut short for a while because I have had unexplainable shedding over the past few months.  If you've had a baby you can relate to the concept of postpartum hair loss that occurs when your baby is about 3 months old.  That has been happening to me - only NO BABY.  Maybe getting a puppy has the same effect.  Certainly SHE sheds everywhere.  Maybe it is stress.  But that can't be.  My life is so tame, and I have so few responsibilities (sense sarcasm).  Anyway, since my hair has betrayed me, I wanted to show it who is boss.  So I had planned in my mind that I might get a hair cut on this trip if we happened to be somewhere where there was a salon.  But while we were there I decided that I also wanted purple.  This is where I would normally talk myself out of it very quickly.  I am not an impulsive person.  And that is an understatement.  When making a decision as simple as what to order at a restaurant I usually have to go through a process equally as complicated as rocket science in my mind before I can made a choice.  If I eat that I will have less calories, but if I eat that I will be happy, but if I eat that I will get 20 grams of protein, but if I eat that I will get veggies, but if I eat that I will be hungry in two hours, but if I eat that I will hate myself in two hours.  You get the idea.  Only this is my constant reel about EVERY. SINGLE. DECISION.  I wonder why my hair is falling out?  So, when I decided to make my hair purple I knew I had two options  - 1.  Do it today right now.  2.  Overanalyze it and never do it.  And then we walked past a hair salon in the mall.  And the rest is history.
     Fun side note, when I was 18 I got my belly button pierced.  When I was 36 I dyed my hair purple.  These are the craziest things I've ever done. (Yes I know that's sad.)  So I'm thinking since I buck the system every 18 years I'll just plan for my tattoo at 54.  I'm taking suggestions for designs.  Something that says - I'm still cool, but I'm not trying too hard.  When I was 16 I so kindly (in the way only a 16 year old can) showed up at my parents' gym while they were working out and told them I wanted to go get my belly button pierced today and needed their permission.  In my 16 year old mind this was not a big deal.  I mean my ears were pierced.  What's the difference?  Well, my blind-sided parents didn't feel the same way.  They looked at me like I said "Hey guys.  I'm dropping out of high school.  I'm marrying a hit man in the mafia and moving to New Jersey.  Can you give me $1000 bucks to get started."  Now, the reason they were so shocked was likely because this was uncharacteristic of me, i.e. purple hair.  I was their straight laced, straight A's, church youth group kid.  And suddenly I wanted to pierce my navel.  So the answer was a solid NO.  But as teenagers do, as soon as I turned 18 and was graduating high school I high tailed it to the piercing joint on Charlotte Pike (thank God I'm still alive).  My accessory lasted about one year before it got on my everlasting nerve and I chunked it.  As usual, my parents were right. 
     But back to the purple hair.  I have been trying over the past year or so to have less emphasis on what people think about me and more emphasis on being true to who God created me to be.  I have lived a life of trying so hard to please everyone.  I would make decisions based on what was the least likely to upset anyone, and then after I implemented the decision I would worry myself sick over if I made the wrong one and actually did upset someone.  I would say words in the best way I knew how and then worry the rest of the day that maybe I said that wrong and offended someone.  I have walked this eggshell game for so very long.  There is a level of this game that is important.  I mean, we can't all just say everything we think and do everything we want.  If we did it would be utter chaos, i.e. American right now.  But there has to be a balance in our thinking.  We can be true to ourselves and still be kind to our neighbors.  So when I dyed my hair purple it was really just an outward expression of me saying "It's okay for me to be me.  I don't have to be everyone else's favorite version of me."  And now to the social experiment.
     Watching people's reactions to my new hair has been extremely eye opening for me.  First let's talk about the people who know me and love me: Almost across the board they have had positive reactions.  No doubt some people think it is weird, but unless I am mistaken no one who has a close relationship with me has changed the way they feel about me because my hair looks different.  I have felt love and approval, even if the occasional joke slips in.  No one who REALLY knows me cares that I have purple hair.  They see the actual me beneath the exterior. 
     Now let' discuss people who don't know me.  I have gotten more attention in the form of stares than I am comfortable with.  The day after I did it I was walking through the airport and wanted an invisibility cloak.  People just look at you like they are trying to figure out your threat level or why anyone would do such a thing.  A few strangers (all women) stopped me and told me they loved my hair.  One of them was an alternative looking African American young woman, and I thought it was so cool that my hair allowed me to strike up a conversation with her.  Across the board having purple hair gave me instant credibility with some people and instant disgrace with others.  I am very intuitive.  I usually read people pretty accurately.  And if my reading is correct, there are a lot of people who instantly liked me and an even larger amount who instantly didn't when they saw my hair.  Often times this falls into the younger people/older people category but not always.  But I have found myself at times wanting to look at a person and say, "It's okay.  I'm a mom of four and a children's minister in Seminary.  I'm really not a threat to you or your way of life."  Our oldest son started a new Christian school this year, and my haircapades happened the week before he started. (He really appreciated that.  Not.  Not at all.)  It's against the school rules for students to have crazy hair colors, so walking into all the first week meetings was fun.  Most people were very friendly, but I got some strange looks and even overheard one couple talking about me at orientation.  I have super sonic hearing - so be careful people.  And I just kept thinking "These people don't know me.  When they do they will like me." (Hopefully!) 
     Today I am getting my hair dyed a normal color.  I would like to keep the purple longer, but once again my hair has turned on me.  The purple is fading so quickly that now many of my streaks are just white bleached hair - which is not what I was going for.  I have to wash my hair every day or I look like a person who has rubbed fried chicken and Vaseline all over her head.  Sometimes I wash it twice a day if I exercise at night.  Positives: My hair is super clean.  Negatives:  My hair won't stay purple.   So today (if the hairdresser can fix my current mess) I become a normal, blending member of society again.   And on that note, here are my ultimate conclusions to my accidental, unorganized social experiment:

1.  We make constant judgements about people we don't know.  It is instant.  Our eyes see a person, and we immediately compare them with our own experiences/beliefs and make a pre-decision about them.  And the more different they are from us, the more threatening they appear.  Our brain says "If they are different from me they must think there is something wrong with how I am".  This is unspoken.  We don't even know we are doing it.  It is like a reflex.  This is true of all of us.  This is true of me.  This is what is currently wrong with our society.  This is something we need to be fighting against EVERY.  SINGLE.  DAY.  We can only do that if we admit it and are aware of it. 

2.  Relationship changes perception - EVERY TIME.  When you take time to get to know someone you are able to appreciate them for who they are.  When you are in relationship with someone you know their heart.  When you know their heart, their hair is inconsequential.  This is also what is currently wrong with our society.  We have shallow unmeaningful acquaintances, and we interact with them as if we know them because of all the social media in our world.  But we don't know them.  And we place judgements on them based on a sentence or a post without ever sitting down to have coffee with them.  This is not okay.  We cannot have a deep relationship with everyone.  Ain't nobody got tome for that.  So let's curtail our judgements for those whose hearts we don't  know.  I think the rule should go something like this: If I don't know your middle name - I'm not allowed to assume anything about you."  Fair enough?  I think so. 

3.  Being different is really hard.  Being genuine is really hard.  I have grown mad respect for people who do what they want with their appearance (or life) and don't care what anyone else thinks.  Opening yourself up to that kind of instant judgement without being known in order to be true to who God made you to be is incredibly brave.  Maybe I don't like the half-shaved head look.  Maybe I don't like tattoo sleeves.  But guess what - if you do and it makes you happy it's none of my business.  My job isn't to police the world and determine if everyone is walking in a straight line.  My job is to love the world like crazy in the name of Jesus.  My job is to look PAST whatever is in front of my eyes and see with my heart - my heart that has been taken over by the love of God.  Being different isn't wrong.  The ones who aren't afraid to be different are some of the bravest, kindest, most genuine people around us.  Respect the differences.  Don't be intimidated by them.  Love the soul, not the appearance.  The Bible says man looks at outward appearance, but God looks at the heart.  Want to be more like God - look at the heart.  Nuff said. 

So goodbye purple hair!  Now I won't have to try to match you with my outfits.  Now I won't feel like I have to explain my life choices to strangers.  But I'm not gonna lie.  I'll kind of miss the edge.  :)

I Threw Away My Scale

     I haven't blogged in a while.  And here's the reason - I'm writing a book.  I don't know if anyone will ever read it, but the writing of it is cleansing my soul.  I'm working on a chapter about beauty and self-image.  It has been a challenge to write about something I still wrestle with so frequently, and at the same time it's easy to write about because I have so much experience.  I've been exercising a lot lately and eating pretty great, but I haven't really lost any weight to speak of.  The frustration of that was getting to me, and today I made an important decision.  I threw away my scale.  I'll no longer let it be the measure of the woman I am.  I will strive for health and joy, not a number I had before I became a mother.  Now, because I am wordy and dramatic, I wrote my scale a poem before I sent it up the river, and I wanted to share that with you all because I love you and know many of you have the same struggles.  Consider it a little teaser for the book.  It will be in this chapter I am currently writing.  I hope it helps someone today. 

You've owned me now for twenty-six
We've ridden waves, tried each quick fix
By numbers you have measured me
But now it's time to leave me be

You've taunted me at every age
With your report - my beauty gauge
Striving toward each goal I made
My happiness - the price I paid

I grew new life and gave it birth
While you laid there and mocked my worth
I asked you morning, noon and night
How I must look in others' sight

A burdened soul, a tired mind
I'm ready now to leave behind
Worth not in numbers, but in love
My joy complete in God above

So goodbye, Friend - no, Enemy
You never saw the best of me
You can't reflect my love so deep
My sacrifice, the tears I weep

You'll never see my family tree
My Savior broken just for me
You'll never see my bravest fights
Or hold my hand through life's dark nights

You'll never see my heart so full
With husband, children, work and school
You'll miss each laughter and embrace
These lines I've earned upon my face

You measure weight but not true wealth
Your numbers can't define my health
So take your screen with all its scorn
And do not dampen one more morn

You had your chance to make me right
But all you did was blur my sight
Your song of never good enough
Cannot drown out His song of love

You won't define this life I lead
No more self-loathing will you breed
I'll find my worth in smiles I bring
And in each song of love I sing

I'll find my worth in days well spent
In knowing each is heaven sent
But most of all I'll find my worth
Beside the manger at Christ's birth

He left it all, came down for me
He gave himself to set me free
So free my soul from your dark clutch
You've lied and stolen far too much

These foolish things that trouble me
Shall fade into eternity
And when I reach that promised land
No, not on scales - on grace I'll stand.

Dear Mom of a Chronically Ill Child

     Dear mom of a chronically ill child, I've been thinking about you all week.  I've gotten the tiniest little glimpse into your life, and I see you more clearly than I ever have.  You see, this week I sit in a hospital with my oldest child.  This week I held my breath and almost vomited as I waited for the surgeon to tell us how it went and the maximum time predicted rolled right by without an update.  I've had the pit in my stomach when I wondered if my child would be okay and the guilt of wondering if I could have done more, done better.  I've watched my child writhe in pain and been powerless to help him.  I've had to go against my peace-loving nature and advocate for my child when I felt that the doctors weren't working in his best interest.  I've juggled the difficulty of having 3 kids at home who want their mama and one in the hospital who doesn't want me to leave.  I've slept on the terrible hospital bed (sort of) and jumped up at his every need.  And I just can't stop thinking about you.  As mother's day approaches this Sunday I wanted to say some things to you that I hope will be affirming.  I wanted to tell you what I think about you as I sit for a very short time in your shoes, knowing that my time here is temporary. 
     Dear mom of a chronically ill child, you are amazing.  You have devoted your life to caring for your child and giving him or her the best possible life.  I know you had dreams, sweet mother.  I know you had dreams for yourself.  I know you had dreams for your family.  I know you had dreams for your child.  You probably didn't dream about having a child with chronic illness.  But now that you have that child I'm willing to bet you wouldn't trade him for all the dreams in the world.  You have taken a difficult task and embraced it, loving your child in the way that only a mother can.  You don't look at your child and see illness.  You look at your child and see beauty.  You look at your child and see love.  Your child may not have the life that you've dreamed about, but your dreams have shifted and you've shifted with them.  Your heart has embraced the challenges of your task, and you are strong and brave and admired. 
     Dear sweet mother, I don't pity you.  Pity is not what anyone wants from others.  No one wants others to look at them with sad eyes and say things like "You poor thing".  You don't feel like a "poor thing".  You feel blessed to have your child.  Your child is not a burden.  Your child is a gift.  So, no, I don't pity you.  You wouldn't want that.  But, dear sweet mother, I admire you.  I validate that your calling is not one that is easy.  No one wants to be pitied, but everyone wants to be validated.  No one wants to feel invisible in the world, and I fear that the calling you find on your life could make you feel that way.  No one else is there to watch you pour yourself out constantly to care for your child.  No one sees that you gave up things that were really important to you so that your child could have the best life possible.  No one knows that you are up at 3:00 AM changing your child's bandages or trying to ease her pain so she can sleep.  No one knows that you haven't slept in a week and you still have to function at top speed to take care of not only your sick child, but you your healthy children as well.  No one understands how hard it is to care for a sick child and also nurture a marriage.  No one knows how isolated you feel when you realize that none of your friends are in your shoes and you worry that no one understands you.  But I want you to know that after this brief experience with a really ill child, I see you a little better.  I won't claim to understand your life.  That would be an insult.  You contain strength that I can't even begin to mirror.  The child that has your heart is in a constant struggle, and you are the rock he leans upon.  You may feel weak sometimes, but I assure you, sweet mom, you are strong.  Celebrities and CEOs and politicians may get lots of air time, but you are a shining star in our world.  You show the love of God in a way that is pure and holy.  I would imagine that you've wrestled with Him on questions like "Why would you let my child suffer?", and I bet you mostly wrestle alone in your own mind, in your own house, afraid to be honest about your struggles because you don't ever want someone to question your love for your child or your faith in God.  But I want you to know that God is using you, sweet mother.  He is telling a story through your life that will bless generations to come.  You may feel small sitting cooped up in a hospital room, but you are a giant of faith putting one foot in front of the other, caring for one of God's most precious ones.  You are not small or invisible.  You are on a plain above most of us, showing us what it means to love the way God asked us to love.
     Dear mom of a chronically ill child, please don't be afraid to ask for help.  We may not understand what you are going through, but we want to help you stand up to your challenge.  We have so much to learn from your strength and bravery.  Don't feel like you can't share your story with the world.  We want to hear it.  We don't only want to know your victories.  We want to stand with you in your struggles.  We want to give you the honor that you deserve.  You are a warrior in the truest sense.  You are important.  You are a hero.  So, Happy Mother's Day, mom of a chronically ill child.  You deserve this day more than any of us.  Thank you for blessing our world.

Haven't Got Time for the Pain

     It occurred to me this morning that yesterday marked one year since I had a difficult shoulder surgery.  I fought having this surgery for a hard nine months, trying every other option to bring healing to my shoulder.  I dealt with intense, nauseating pain for months because I would not let myself consider the possibility of being operated on while mothering 4 very young children.  But finally I relented to the fact that there was no other option for healing than surgery.  So under the "knife" I went.  I won't bore you with all the details of that day and the ones after, but suffice it to say that it was hard.  Having my dominant arm in a sling for 6 weeks and unable to lift with it for 12 was an extreme challenge.  After those 12 weeks my right arm muscles were basically nonexistent (but my left arm was ripped like the Hulk).  My therapist told me it would be 12 months before I was pain free - my surgeon told me 12 weeks (insert eye roll).  But this morning I realized that I have crossed that mark, and I still have pain pretty much every day.  Now don't get me wrong.  I am sooooo glad I had the surgery.  The pain I have now doesn't compare to what I had before.  And now I have full usage of my right arm.  I am not restricted from any activity.  It may hurt, but I can do it without fear of further injury.  But this morning I was playing with Brinley, and her elbow pressed into the spot where they reattached my bicep and almost brought me to tears.  And that's when it hit me: It's been a year, and the pain is still here.  I accepted this morning that this pain in my shoulder is probably always going to be there.  It's likely never going to be "the same".  You can hardly expect it to be when they cut and reattach a major muscle.  But I had hoped for the best (as I always do).  This pain that I carry now is a part of me.  It goes with me and it possibly always will.  So what do I do with that?

     Pain is difficult.  It is rarely invited.  We try so hard to avoid pain - in our bodies, in our hearts, in our souls.  Who goes out looking for pain?  Well, maybe people who get tattoos and run marathons, but you get my point.  We want to protect ourselves from pain, and we want to protect those we love from pain.  Pain is, well, a pain.  Has anyone gathered that this post is about pain?  So let's talk about it.  Because that's something else we don't like to do.  If we talk about our pain it makes us appear weak.  If we admit that we are hurting in our bodies or our souls we fear that others will grow weary of us or think we don't have what it takes.  Besides we are busy.   They are busy.  The world is busy.  And in the words of Sweet Brown in the famous youtube video "Ain't nobody got time for that!"  I assure you I didn't have time to deal with my pain.  But when you are faced with pain you no longer get to choose if you have time for it. 

     Pain comes in many forms, but there is one thing you can count on with pain - IT WILL COME.  It isn't a matter of IF, but of WHEN we will have to deal with pain.  It may come on gradually and intermittently like arthritis or a relationship that feels like a roller coaster.  Or it may come at you with blinding force when you least expect it like a sudden injury or a phone call that leaves you frozen on the floor in a puddle of tears.  In spite of all the effort we make trying to control everything around us so that we can avoid it, it still will happen.  We will feel it.  So what do you do with it? 

     When we look around the world right now and see the anger and bitterness and divisiveness that dominate the headlines, we see the wrong way to deal with pain.  But this is a common way.  Pain creeps in, it sets up camp, and it owns you.  It changes everything about you.  It changes how you view yourself, how you view the world.  It changes your attitude.  It changes your hopes and dreams.  People everywhere are taking their pain, and they are turning it into hate.  But it doesn't have to be that way.  I propose that we each have an important decision to make regarding pain: When faced with pain you cannot eliminate...you can either let it DEfine you or REfine you.  And only you can make that decision.  The pain is unavoidable.  The effects of the pain are up for grabs.  You see, this pain in my shoulder, it has its bonuses.  I learned from my injury that I cannot do everything.  I learned that the world keeps spinning when I am down.  I learned that I am surrounded by people who love me and my family.  I learned to be thankful that I have access to medical care that allows me to not have to spend the rest of my life with my arm in a sling.  But most importantly, this pain reminds me that I am so very dependent on God.  My body and everything I have can slip away in an instant.  Control is a mirage.  Dependence on God is everything.

     Now, you may be reading this and thinking "Man this girl is dramatic about a little shoulder pain."  And you are right, compared to a lot of the pain in the world this little pain is nothing.  Physical pain in many ways pales in comparison to emotional pain.  I have walked some painful journeys emotionally and walked through them with people I love.  And there is some pain that simply changes you forever.  But if we give that pain to God and let Him hold it, that change in us doesn't have to be for the worse.  The Bible talks about suffering in great detail.  And the message from many passages is that ultimately it makes us better.  James 1:2-4 says "Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.  Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything."  Pure joy?  Come on James.  For real?  It doesn't feel joyful.  It doesn't feel joyful when the diagnosis is 3 months to live.  It doesn't feel joyful when the pregnancy test is negative for the 23rd month in a row or the ultrasound confirms another miscarriage.  James, it doesn't feel joyful when the divorce papers are served or the cancer is back.  It doesn't feel joyful when the car accident took the person who had your heart.  It doesn't feel joyful when the bank account is negative and the house is in foreclosure.  James, where is the joy in getting the call that one of your dearest friends died in her sleep?  Where is the joy in having a broken body?  James, maybe you got the wrong word.  Can we just consider it horrid?  Can we just be angry and sad?  And we bring these questions to God, and he is big enough to answer them.  But he points us back to his son.  He KNEW pain.   He felt pain.  He carried his own physical pain and the pain of every broken and bad decision any of us would ever make.  But his pain, it redeemed us.  His suffering brought about the hope that changes everything about our pain.  When we live our lives for his glory, our pain is never wasted.  Our pain brings about a new beauty in our souls that the world needs desperately.  The most beautiful souls I have known in this life have often been those with the most tragic stories.  How does that happen?  Well, it happens because the gave their pain to Jesus.  They refused to be DEfined by their pain and chose instead to be REfined by it.  And the pain grew into the fabric of their beings and became a beautiful part of who they were.  When you train your body it is painful.  But the pain brings about strength.  The couch is fun...but it won't make you strong.  It won't prepare you for the hard times ahead.  So what kind of pain are you up against?  What is pressing in on you so hard that you think you might collapse?  There is a place to take that pain where it will be molded into something beautiful.  There is a place for that pain that may not take it away but will make sure that it serves a greater purpose.  There is a place where you can go through the worst time of your life and come out the best version of yourself.  There is a place where the moments in your life that you never would have asked for can become the moments in your rear view mirror that you wouldn't trade for anything - the moments when you became you and God became real.  And this place that takes pain and turns it into beauty is available to you on demand.  Take your pain to the feet of Jesus.  He is strong enough to bear it.  Through his death we have already been DEfined as God's precious children.  And until ours we will continue to be REfined into his image. 

P.S. I would love to pray for you if you are in a painful time.  You can comment here and I will lift up your pain to the Father.

Confessions of a Pleaser

    
     Pleasing people has been a way of life for me for as long as I can remember.  I am the middle child of my family, an ENFP on the Meyer's Briggs, a Type 2 (the helper, the giver) on the Enneagram.  I'm a female in a society where females are taught to be pleasers from childhood.  My parents were so loving and kind, but I still lived in constant fear of disappointing them.  It wasn't their fault.  I was just born or maybe developed into a person who wants to make everyone happy.  And that's not really even a bad thing.  Wanting to please others is good and kind and healthy in its right context.  But a great weight comes with wanting to please everyone, and the weight is right here: You can lose your authenticity.  I've never been the friend who is brave enough to tell you that those jeans are too tight or that your boyfriend is a loser.  I have tiptoed around every point I ever wanted to make and then after the fact worried for days that I said the wrong thing and offended someone.  Because that is my heart.  I don't want to offend anyone.  I never want to cause negative emotions in another person.  I want the world to be a ball of rainbows and sunshine where we ride on unicorns and eat ice cream without gaining weight.  I have tried to create this perfect world so many times.  And being an optimist is a great thing, but when you are trying so hard to mold the hard things into pretty things there is a danger: You can lose your authenticity.   Relationships are EXTREMELY important to me.  I want to be friends with everyone.  I can see the beauty in everyone.  I love spending time with people, the conversations, the fun and the amazing support that comes from having "a village".   But here is what I have realized.  If you live your life in an attempt to make sure everyone likes you: You can lose your authenticity.  Do you sense a theme?
     I have reached a point in my life where I have realized that I would rather have 10 friends that I can be authentic with than 100 who require me to put on a show.  Now don't get me wrong.  I want to live at peace with everyone (Romans 12:18, Hebrews 12:14).  That is my heart's desire.  And I won't turn anyone away from relationship because they don't agree with me on things.  And I'm not advocating meanness or harshness in any way.  But I have reached a point where I have found the freedom to speak what I believe without worrying constantly that someone might disagree with me.  I find that the more I place my confidence in Christ, the less I have to have it fed by the world.  By no means have I conquered this.  I think pleasing is very much like any other addiction.  You try to stop, but you still fight the urge for the rest of your life.  It's my baseline.  And I'm trying to steer away from that in an effort to be a healthier, more complete version of who God created me to be.  If God wants to use me in this world, but I am terrified of being authentic we are at an impasse.  So I want to be free to speak or write what He lays on my heart.  I want to be the friend who tells you the hard truth in love when no one else will.  I want to be the wife and mother who puts her whole heart into caring for her family but doesn't lose the essence of who God made her to be along the way.  I want to be the woman God is asking me to be and to be so open to His Spirit that I can hear His guidance.  There is still someone who I really want to please.  But he doesn't live on this earth.  He did a long, long time ago, and someday He will restore it to perfection.  But right now I have to live in the broken and pray that He will help me to bring beauty to it in His name.  He made me authentically me.  And he made you authentically you.  So don't be afraid to give your God-given color to the world.  It takes all the colors to make a rainbow. 

The Two-Play Playbook

     I'm not very good at sports.  If you've known me a long time you are nodding your head or thinking this is an understatement.  If you don't, let me give you a brief history.  In third grade I decided to play softball.  I finally hit the ball at practice and proceeded to run straight to 3rd base.  My brother still makes fun of me for this occasionally.  The coach, wisely put me in the outfield where I daydreamed my way through our first game.  And then I abruptly ended my softball career.  The only thing I enjoyed was that the uniform was hot pink and black, which looked very cool.   In fifth grade I was a cheerleader.  I had fun with the other girls.  But, while I thoroughly enjoyed doing the running man and the roger rabbit to the tune of "Gonna Make You Sweat" during half-time at the basketball games, I decided I didn't have what it took to be a cheerleader long-term.  My tumbling was basically just a somersault and all the screaming hurt my ears.  In sixth grade I took up basketball.  I liked basketball.  I really did.  I suppose if I had stuck with anything it would have been this, but I wasn't good.  Like at all.   And I worried about my hair during the game.  Not cool for a bball player.  In junior high I became the statistician for the boys basketball team and did that throughout high school.  I rocked it like a boss.  But no one gives trophies for basketball math skills.  Weird.  In high school I became the vice-president of FCA.  The president and vice-president went to FCA camp each summer so I signed up.  What could go wrong?  Well, it turns out that at Fellowship of Christian Athletes camp they assume errbody is an athlete.  Rude.  I played every sport on the planet that week.  I even puked in front of everyone when we had to run laps around the campus because I don't typically run unless I am being chased by something very scary.  People kept trying to guess what sport I played, and the answer was always "no".  Soccer was the only sport I didn't stink at, and that was the first time I had played it in my life.  I actually loved FCA camp though - other than the physical torture and grand embarrassment.  My sports career carried on to college where I played intermural flag football and basketball for the Christian Student Center.  I had fun because we enjoyed each other so much.  But I bet the other girls wished I was just the statistician.  My skills were lacking.
     So, yeah, sports and myself have an agreement.  You do your thing.  I'll do mine.  But I live in a house with some sports enthusiasts.  So I know a thing or two about playbooks.  Also, I watched every episode of Friday Night Lights, so basically I'm a sports genius.  Here's what I know.  The players being familiar with the plays is of paramount importance.  A coach can coach most effectively only if his players understand the plays he is calling.  It is basically understood that if you are going to be a part of the team you have to know the plays.  That is a lot of pressure, especially when you are in the intensity of the moment and have to recall the details.  You can't just do your own thing out there on the field or the court.  You have to work with the team and know the plays.  The plays are important, and there are usually many of them.  What is your point, weirdo?  Stay with me.
     I recently started graduate school in theology (Bible).  My first class is "Critical Interpretation of the New Testament".  I'm only a few weeks in, but nothing could have prepared me for the impact this study would have on my life.  If you want to blow your mind start spending at least 10 hours a week studying about mostly Jesus and how the Bible was compiled.  As I have started reading about a lot of the questions people have about the Bible (many to which I had never been introduced), I have had to do a lot of soul searching and fact searching to see what I believe about the Bible.  I will be working this out for the next several years I'm sure, but (without getting into all the details of what I'm studying) here is what I have realized.  Many people treat the Bible like a spotless perfect document that we have to interpret every word of literally.  That's not the real truth.  I 100% believe that the Bible is God's inspired word given to His people.  I 100% believe that the Bible is living and active in the life of believers.  It changes and forms us into God's image if we allow it.  And I believe that all parts of the Bible are valuable to believers.  So please don't hear me say anything contrary to that.  But here is what I also believe.  The reason that there is so much debate about what we have in the gigantic playbook for Christians is because on a lot of things we just don't know.  We can't know so many things about why, when and for whom things in the Bible were written.  To say that we can know all of these things is arrogant and misled.  We have to take the heart of it and the central message and apply it to our lives.  I can't know all the answers to all my questions on this side of heaven.  But here is what I know.  Jesus Christ is the focal point of the entire thing.  The gospels ring true and eyewitnesses told us what was true of the man whose life we base our entire faith upon.   We have these treasures of things said and done by the author of our faith.  We can only come to the Father through Jesus.  Jesus died for us and rose again.  These are the absolute nonnegotiable cornerstones of being a Christian.  So if we know that it's all about Jesus, what do we know about what he said?  With all of the questions we can pose about culture and Christianity, biblical accuracy, the Hebrew and the Greek meanings, and the different English translations, how do we know what God expects of his children? What if I understood this verse or that verse incorrectly and I'm messing it all up?! 

  We have these words from Jesus that so beautifully sum up the answers to all our questions about what God expects of us in Matthew 22:37-40 when he was asked what was the greatest commandment.  “Jesus replied: ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.  This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself.  All the law and the prophets hang on these two commandments.’”  And there we have it.  Studying all of the Bible is wonderful and blessed by God.  But we have this simple equation to know if we are pleasing him.  All the laws hang on these two things: Am I loving God and am I loving others?  We have this two-play playbook right here that says love is what everything else hinges on in our faith.  1.  Love God with all your being.  2.  Love others as yourself.  Side note: I want to point out here that Jesus does not ask us to refrain from loving ourselves.  In fact it is almost like a given here that you cannot really love your neighbor unless you love yourself.  There are a lot of things about following Jesus that require sacrifice, and he certainly asks us to take up our cross and follow him (Matthew 10:38).  But I think this is sometimes confused with the notion that we should treat ourselves poorly in an attempt to love our neighbor.  Jesus asks us to pick up our cross for HIM, not for others.  Yes, we humbly put others ahead of ourselves as Paul says in Philippians 2:3.  But we don't devalue our own lives to the point where we lose our own identity in Christ or repeatedly accept abuses.  Love looks like many different things.  And sometimes it looks like defending what is right while still loving the person who is hurting you.  I think this is a struggle for many Christian women in particular as we take up the banner of serving everyone in our lives and forget to even spend time with Jesus ourselves.  Self-love and selfishness are not the same thing.  Self-love maintains personal well-being while living out the call of Jesus everyday.  Selfishness says that my needs are more important than anyone else's and I will do what is best for me at all costs.  So please don't be afraid to love yourself.  Jesus is crazy about you.

 So we have these two commands: Love God and Love Your Neighbor.  At the beginning of the story of the Good Samaritan the man asks Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life.  And Jesus turns the question around on him and asks "What is written in the Law?  How do you read it?" and the man answers with these two commands to love God and love your neighbor.  Jesus tells him he is correct and that if he does this he will live.  But the man doesn't walk away.  In fact it says in Luke 10:29 "But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, 'And who is my neighbor?'"  And in reply Jesus tells him the infamous story of the Good Samaritan.  The wording of Luke 10:29 catches me sharply.  "He wanted to justify himself".  It didn't say he wanted to understand Jesus' command more deeply or he was genuinely confused.  He had a goal, and it was to justify what he thought about who his neighbor was.  How often do I open my Bible only trying justify what I already believe instead of hoping to be transformed by its words?  So Jesus (because he is brilliant) tells him this parable about the man who was beaten and half dead.  A priest and a Levite (the religious leaders) both saw him and passed by.  But the Samaritan man (basically the scourge of society to them) took pity on him and went above and beyond to care for him.  And then Jesus says "Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?"  And the man replies (I'm guessing sheepishly) "The one who had mercy on him."  And JESUS says "Go and do likewise."  I don't even think this requires much commentary on my part.  I mean really, Jesus requires absolutely no commentary from me.  But he makes it pretty clear here that if we want to know what the second play in our playbook looks like - THIS. IS. IT.  We have two plays, you guys.   We have TWO PLAYS.   Love God.  Love others.  Which others?  All of them.  ALL OF THEM.  If we pass them by and leave them to die we are not loving them.  But this becomes much easier when we don't have to pass them by.  It's convenient that we can choose not to see what is going on in the world around us.  We can turn a blind eye and continue to enjoy ourselves.  But we have no excuse.  Because WE KNOW.  We know better than anyone in the history of humankind what is going on in our world.  And I see all around our country right now that the Priest and the Levite are walking on by, but the Samaritan (not the scourge of society, but rather the unbeliever) is picking up the cause of the oppressed.  And shame on us.  Shame on ME for not being more concerned about ALL of my neighbors.  Shame on "evangelicals" for caring so much about our comfortable lives that we care more about protecting them than about helping our neighbor.  We have two plays.  TWO PLAYS.  And if I ever wonder if I am following the Bible and pleasing God and don't know for sure, I can just ask myself two questions:  Am I loving God?  Am I loving my neighbor as I love myself?  Two plays aren't so hard to remember.  Why do we make it more complicated than it has to be?

How (not) to be a Miserable Christian

      We all know them - people out there who claim to know Jesus and yet are miserable.  They may be in your church or in your family.  Maybe you've been personally wounded by one of them.  Maybe you were once one of them yourself.  Maybe you still are.  I dare say at times in life we have all been that person, even if only for a day or two.   What do I mean by miserable?  Well I mean negative, hateful, sour.  There are people who look for reasons to be offended and for reasons to rant and rave.  There are people who will treat others like trash in the name of Christianity.  And it breaks my heart.  You don't have to look very far to find an example of this behavior.  And it hurts.  It hurts fellow Christians.  It hurts the witness of Jesus.  And ultimately it deeply hurts the one who is the miserable Christian.  I have wondered many times in my life how being a Christian and being miserable could coincide.  It has baffled me time and again.  And last night as I was reading the Bible God opened my eyes to the most simple and most complicated answer to this question.
     I was reading the gospel of Mark.  I don't know how many times I have read this book of the Bible, but it's one of the big 4 so I would say several.  It never ceases to amaze me how God will take a scripture no matter how many times you have read it and will make it living and breathing at that moment in your life.  Every time I dive deep into scripture I notice something else that didn't strike me before as the Spirit works in my life on that particular day.  And I wonder why I don't spend more time diving into scripture and receiving this supernatural life help.  Why would I rather watch TV or browse Facebook?  But, anyway, as I was reading last night I read a very familiar story in Mark 10 about the man we call "The Rich Young Ruler".  You are probably thinking what follows here is a post about materialism.  But it isn't.  It's about something so much bigger.  Here is the excerpt that some of you probably could almost quote from memory:

¹⁷ As Jesus started on his way, a man ran up to him and fell on his knees before him. “Good teacher,” he asked, “what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
¹⁸ “Why do you call me good?” Jesus answered. “No one is good—except God alone. ¹⁹ You know the commandments: ‘You shall not murder, you shall not commit adultery, you shall not steal, you shall not give false testimony, you shall not defraud, honor your father and mother.’^[a]”
²⁰ “Teacher,” he declared, “all these I have kept since I was a boy.”
²¹ Jesus looked at him and loved him. “One thing you lack,” he said. “Go, sell everything you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.”
²² At this the man’s face fell. He went away sad, because he had great wealth.

     This man clearly knew who Jesus was.  He wanted terribly to inherit eternal life.  And he was good.  Really good.  He was what I suspect we would call a "good guy".  But he lacked total commitment.  He liked his things, and he liked his status.  He had done the right things, but perhaps he hadn't given Jesus his whole heart.  Back to that in a minute, but what really struck me last night was the beginning of verse 21.  "Jesus looked at him and loved him."  Jesus looked on this man who was trying and failing to do all of the right things.  He looked on this man that He was about to level with the truth of his shortcoming.  He looked at this man who He was going to be painfully honest with - AND HE LOVED HIM.  Before He spoke - He loved him.  Before He corrected - He loved.  And those seven words (the number of completion) at the beginning of this verse change absolutely everything. 

     We don't know if the man did what Jesus asked of him or not.  I think we always assume that because he wasn't happy about the prospect of giving up his possessions that meant he didn't comply.  Well, I don't know about you, but there have certainly been things Jesus asked of me that I wasn't happy about, but I complied because I love Him.  So maybe this young man did what Jesus asked, maybe he didn't.  But I would suspect that he saw the love in Jesus' eyes.  I would suspect that Jesus treated him with dignity and His love shone through.  And I hope that the man followed Jesus' advice and found his life more rich than ever. 

     And I found myself last night thinking about the fact that I have a Savior that loves me before He corrects me.  He loves me while He corrects me.  And He loves me even when I am wrong.  I found myself thinking about the fact that Christianity has rules and guidelines, but before and after and over and above all of those things it has a Savior who looks on to His followers and loves them.  That love that Jesus had for this young man and that he has for each of us is the difference between a miserable Christian and a joyful one.  A person can accept a million small parts of what Christianity looks like and miss the giant cornerstone of the entire thing.  A person can take the rules and regulations and wear them like a stone around their neck and never get that the One who makes the rules loves them so entirely that he is willing to redeem all of the brokenness without condemning.  A person can be so busy making sure that everyone else is keeping the rules that she misses the opportunity to love like Jesus did.   And the miserable Christian is miserable because when they look at the people around them they see as they believe they are seen.  They see flaw and imperfection and brokenness, and they believe that condemnation is what is required.  And they have never seen the look of love in Jesus' eyes that overcomes this way of living.  And they haven't felt the complete grace of an unfathomable God that takes over their entire heart.  And we give what we know.  And if all we know are rules and punishment, then all we can give is judgement.  And when we look at a person first through that lens, we forget to look at them and love them.  The difference between a miserable Christian and a joyful one is that moment where love gets filtered out in the name of rightness.  The difference between a miserable Christian and a joyful Christian is right there in four little letters that couldn't be more simple or more complicated - LOVE.  And we have this example of a Savior.  He loved so much and so completely that He chose to die instead of to condemn.   And this is the cornerstone of our faith.  And yet we so often miss the mark.  So often we rely on our goodness like the rich young ruler did.  So often we look at what we might be giving up and forget about what we will gain when we give Jesus our whole heart.  And I believe that God's grace exists even for miserable Christians.  And I no longer feel anger toward those people, but rather sadness.  And I want to make sure that everyone knows that when Jesus looks at them he does want for them to follow Him.  And He does want complete devotion.  And He does desire pure hearts and lives.  But right before and after and in between He looks right at us just as we are AND HE LOVES US.