Author's note: This is another piece of writing from my archives. It was written during the summer of 2005, while our family was jumping through hoops to meet Uncle Sam's demands for medical testing on our then 3yr old, who has a relatively rare medical problem, to make sure he was fit to go overseas for our new foreign service posting. It was a very stressful time for us, but it was also a faith-building time... Funny how that often happens in times of stress. :-) This item was eventually published in The Encourager.
The popular children’s Sunday school song goes “Jesus loves me, this I know, for the Bible tells me so.” I don’t know about anyone else, but simply reading something doesn’t make it feel real to me. Nor does it make it feel personal. John 3:16 tells us that God created the whole salvation plan because He so loved the world. For me, that always seemed a bit impersonal, because I sure don’t equate myself with the rest of the world… A bit egocentric of me, I know. It has taken developing a personal relationship with the Lord, over time, to convince me that He loves me for myself and not just as part of His collective creativity. Recently, though, the depth of that love took on a new meaning for me.
There’s something about having the whole family cooped up together in a hotel room or a car for an extended amount of time that really pushes one’s buttons until loving one another becomes more a matter of commitment than of feeling. No matter how good the relationships are the rest of the time, I think even the best of them can start to get the best of us. Add in a plethora of strangers from doctors’ offices, restaurants, stores, and on the street, plus a hefty dose of stress on top of that, and it seems the whole world starts to get the better of us as we begin to long for some solitude far away from every two-legged creature capable of voicing demands or expressing opinions. Both my husband and I started finding ourselves amazed… no, make that flabbergasted… at just how stupid and strange human beings can be in general. I found myself commenting to him, “What does God see in us humans, anyway?!” And suddenly I got a glimpse of a love so great as to be beyond my understanding, and it would have brought me to my knees if I’d been standing.
Psalm 139:13-16 explains to us that God created our inmost being, and that we’re fearfully and wonderfully made, and that God saw our unformed bodies and all our days were written in His book long before our birth. To put it in other words, He knew us before we were formed in the womb, before we were born (Jer 1:5). Yet we were born anyway.
Picture this: a husband and wife spending a romantic evening together, perhaps having a candlelit dinner with dancing, and then just as they’re prepared to enter the bedroom, a messenger arrives to tell them that if they go through that bedroom door, they will conceive a child who will wreck their home; push their marriage to the limits of its commitment; get in their way and interfere in every project they undertake; cause them unimaginable heartache; AND will require great pain and suffering on the part of the parents to redeem the child’s life… How many couples do you know would still be in the mood? Even if this couple were also told all the wonderful things about such a child, I think in most cases there’d be a lot of nights ending with one spouse on the couch!
God could have chosen not to create us. He could have chosen to create only people who fit a certain set of criteria. He could have chosen to create only people that He knew weren’t going to cause Him a moment’s heartache, and would have made perfect choices to follow His plan at all times. He knew Adam and Eve were going to break His heart, but He created them anyway. Ditto for everyone else we read about in the Bible… Even those described as being faithful and after His heart made mistakes. Not one human has been perfect except Jesus Himself, and God has loved them all anyway.
That’s equally true today, with you and me. I’ve often wondered what good I am, wondered why I’m here, especially when chronic illness keeps me from doing anything that seems of any significance to me. I’ve been guilty of feeling worthless enough to think that the world God so loves means everybody except me, particularly if I’m feeling sorry for myself on a bad day. But God knew all along the sins I would commit over the course of my lifetime. He knew how often I was going to get in the way of His good work, necessitating a correction in the scheme of things to keep His plan on track. And He knew I’d be facing physical and emotional limitations that would keep me from being much in my own eyes. He knew all along just what sort of person I was going to be, all the details, good and bad. And He allowed me to be born anyway. That’s love. It’s a love beyond my understanding, but as long as God knows why He loves me, it’s good enough for me. So I sing with great joy, Jesus loves me, this I know!
Father, I thank you so very much for loving me, just as I am. I thank you that I am fearfully and wonderfully made by Your loving hand, and only the fallen world, and Your plan to build my character, has put these flaws- perceived and real- upon my body like battle scars. I thank you for making me who I am today, and thank you even more for making me who I will be tomorrow, for You aren't finished with me yet. Help me to be all that You have planned me to be. Shape me into a person after Your own heart, that I may bring You more joy than heartache. In Jesus' precious name, Amen.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Friday, September 19, 2008
God is Bigger
Author's note: This, too, was written in either '03 or '04, but was never published. I don't know if anyone will find this useful or not, but just in case...
"What's the matter, Mommy?" my little boy asked me one day when he noticed that I was distracted, not looking very happy, and was repeatedly sighing, rubbing my forehead to relieve the tension headache I was getting.
"Oh, nothing you need to worry about. Mommy's just trying to figure some things out."
"What's worry?" he asked.
I thought for a moment, trying to choose words that he would understand, and said, "Well, it's sort of like being afraid. Not because of something really scarey, but because you don't know what's going to happen or how."
Thinking of Matthew 6:25-34, I added, "God tells us not to worry, because it doesn't help. Instead, we need to trust Him that He'll take care of us because we're really important to Him, and to put our time and energy into something better, like serving Him and trying to be more like Him."
"Is that what you're doing, Mommy? Worrying?"
I laughed, because he was right. "Yes, I guess I am! It's hard to stop, though."
"Well, I know what you should do," he replied.
"What's that, Sweetie?" I asked my "wise-beyond-his-years" little philosopher.
"Well, when I'm scared, I do what you told me to do. I sing that 'God is Bigger' song, then I don't feel scared anymore. If worry is sort of like being scared, then maybe the song will make you feel better too!"
My son was referring to the Veggie Tales video Where Is God When I'm S-s-scared? and in it, there's a song that Bob and Larry teach Junior about God being bigger than any boogie man or monster, and that He's watching out for us. You know, it's been years since my little boy gave me that advice, but he was right. It still works today. God isn't just bigger than monsters and other frightening things. He's also bigger than any problem or stressful situation we could ever encounter. When I find myself starting to worry about things, getting stressed in a way that isn't helping the situation, I find myself humming that catchy little song, and then the problems don't seem so big anymore. Any song, poem, or verse that turns our minds toward God, and reminds us that God is bigger than all our problems combined, can be a great tool to pull out when we find ourselves worrying and stressing out about things that are beyond our control. These reminders put us back into the right frame of mind, and then we're ready to pray about our worries and stressors, hand God's work back to Him, and prepare ourselves to get busy with the things we can take care of. The Serenity Prayer; the hymn "What a Friend We Have in Jesus"; the verse Matt 6:33, "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well," any of these are possible substitutes for the Veggie Tales song. Whatever works for you. It's a simple way to reduce stress, so simple that a child saw the solution. In our overly complicated world, I think simple solutions are the best ones of all!
Father, I thank you that no problem is too big for You, and that You won't let any problem become bigger than I can bear. I thank you there is no need for me to fear or worry, for You are in control at all times, and will use everything to the good of those who love You. Help me to trust You, to remember to seek first Your kingdom, always, and to take great comfort from keeping my focus on You. In Jesus' name, Amen.
"What's the matter, Mommy?" my little boy asked me one day when he noticed that I was distracted, not looking very happy, and was repeatedly sighing, rubbing my forehead to relieve the tension headache I was getting.
"Oh, nothing you need to worry about. Mommy's just trying to figure some things out."
"What's worry?" he asked.
I thought for a moment, trying to choose words that he would understand, and said, "Well, it's sort of like being afraid. Not because of something really scarey, but because you don't know what's going to happen or how."
Thinking of Matthew 6:25-34, I added, "God tells us not to worry, because it doesn't help. Instead, we need to trust Him that He'll take care of us because we're really important to Him, and to put our time and energy into something better, like serving Him and trying to be more like Him."
"Is that what you're doing, Mommy? Worrying?"
I laughed, because he was right. "Yes, I guess I am! It's hard to stop, though."
"Well, I know what you should do," he replied.
"What's that, Sweetie?" I asked my "wise-beyond-his-years" little philosopher.
"Well, when I'm scared, I do what you told me to do. I sing that 'God is Bigger' song, then I don't feel scared anymore. If worry is sort of like being scared, then maybe the song will make you feel better too!"
My son was referring to the Veggie Tales video Where Is God When I'm S-s-scared? and in it, there's a song that Bob and Larry teach Junior about God being bigger than any boogie man or monster, and that He's watching out for us. You know, it's been years since my little boy gave me that advice, but he was right. It still works today. God isn't just bigger than monsters and other frightening things. He's also bigger than any problem or stressful situation we could ever encounter. When I find myself starting to worry about things, getting stressed in a way that isn't helping the situation, I find myself humming that catchy little song, and then the problems don't seem so big anymore. Any song, poem, or verse that turns our minds toward God, and reminds us that God is bigger than all our problems combined, can be a great tool to pull out when we find ourselves worrying and stressing out about things that are beyond our control. These reminders put us back into the right frame of mind, and then we're ready to pray about our worries and stressors, hand God's work back to Him, and prepare ourselves to get busy with the things we can take care of. The Serenity Prayer; the hymn "What a Friend We Have in Jesus"; the verse Matt 6:33, "But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well," any of these are possible substitutes for the Veggie Tales song. Whatever works for you. It's a simple way to reduce stress, so simple that a child saw the solution. In our overly complicated world, I think simple solutions are the best ones of all!
Father, I thank you that no problem is too big for You, and that You won't let any problem become bigger than I can bear. I thank you there is no need for me to fear or worry, for You are in control at all times, and will use everything to the good of those who love You. Help me to trust You, to remember to seek first Your kingdom, always, and to take great comfort from keeping my focus on You. In Jesus' name, Amen.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Sarah Laughed: What Will You Do?
Author's note: This is another item I wrote in 2003 that was later published in The Encourager. Again, I post it in case someone can take encouragement from it...
We read in Genesis 18:10-12 how Sarah, Abraham’s wife, reacted when she heard that she was to become a mother in her advanced years. She was a woman past child-bearing age, had never had any children, and was in her nineties (Gen 17:17). She laughed. And well she might, for she described herself as already “worn out”, yet anyone who has ever cared for a baby knows that it’s exhausting work. After restless days and nights from the discomforts of late pregnancy, there’s the grueling labor of bringing the child into the world. Then there’s the frequent interruptions in one’s days and nights as the helpless little baby needs fed, changed, comforted and made comfortable, all while returning to one’s regular duties of daily living. In Sarah’s case, without the assistance of modern conveniences, I might add.
We laugh for many reasons, not just for joy. We also laugh when we’re shocked, confused, and even when we’re frightened but not sure if we should be. While Sarah surely felt joy at the thought of becoming a mother, she no doubt also felt incredulous (“You’ve GOT to be kidding!”) and possibly even a little frightened (“How am I going to handle having a baby at my age?!”)
But God had a plan, and Sarah’s age and physical condition had little to do with it. As the Lord Himself reminded Abraham in verse 14, “Is anything too hard for the LORD?” God has plans for all of us, even if we’re chronically ill and “worn out.” Like Sarah, our physical condition has little to do with it. We may find ourselves being called to some mission that seems ridiculously beyond our capabilities or even one that causes us to fear for what health we have left; a mission that may have us laughing in disbelief, joy or fright, or perhaps even crying. The Bible gives us several promises to lean on if this happens. We have the promise of strength in Philippians 4:13, “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” We can take reassurance from the promise in Jeremiah 29:11, “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” We can take confidence from 2 Corinthians 12:9, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
Sarah submitted to the Lord’s plans, despite her age and weariness, and knew joy when His promise was fulfilled (Gen 21:6.) If we submit to God’s calling, despite our illness, we too can know joy when our obedience produces fruit. Sarah laughed. What will you do?
Father, I thank you that we needn't fear any task that you call us to do, that you will give us the strength and grace to complete it, and that you will not let us be harmed in any lasting way by our missions. Give us the wisdom to know the difference between great tasks that you're calling us to do and those that we're imposing on ourselves (or allowing others to impose on us), for the former we'll be able to do in Christ, while the latter may overtask our already weakened bodies to our detriment. Help us to find joy in being called in spite of our infirmities, so that we laugh in delight, rather than shocked disbelief. In Christ's name, Amen.
We read in Genesis 18:10-12 how Sarah, Abraham’s wife, reacted when she heard that she was to become a mother in her advanced years. She was a woman past child-bearing age, had never had any children, and was in her nineties (Gen 17:17). She laughed. And well she might, for she described herself as already “worn out”, yet anyone who has ever cared for a baby knows that it’s exhausting work. After restless days and nights from the discomforts of late pregnancy, there’s the grueling labor of bringing the child into the world. Then there’s the frequent interruptions in one’s days and nights as the helpless little baby needs fed, changed, comforted and made comfortable, all while returning to one’s regular duties of daily living. In Sarah’s case, without the assistance of modern conveniences, I might add.
We laugh for many reasons, not just for joy. We also laugh when we’re shocked, confused, and even when we’re frightened but not sure if we should be. While Sarah surely felt joy at the thought of becoming a mother, she no doubt also felt incredulous (“You’ve GOT to be kidding!”) and possibly even a little frightened (“How am I going to handle having a baby at my age?!”)
But God had a plan, and Sarah’s age and physical condition had little to do with it. As the Lord Himself reminded Abraham in verse 14, “Is anything too hard for the LORD?” God has plans for all of us, even if we’re chronically ill and “worn out.” Like Sarah, our physical condition has little to do with it. We may find ourselves being called to some mission that seems ridiculously beyond our capabilities or even one that causes us to fear for what health we have left; a mission that may have us laughing in disbelief, joy or fright, or perhaps even crying. The Bible gives us several promises to lean on if this happens. We have the promise of strength in Philippians 4:13, “I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” We can take reassurance from the promise in Jeremiah 29:11, “’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the LORD, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” We can take confidence from 2 Corinthians 12:9, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
Sarah submitted to the Lord’s plans, despite her age and weariness, and knew joy when His promise was fulfilled (Gen 21:6.) If we submit to God’s calling, despite our illness, we too can know joy when our obedience produces fruit. Sarah laughed. What will you do?
Father, I thank you that we needn't fear any task that you call us to do, that you will give us the strength and grace to complete it, and that you will not let us be harmed in any lasting way by our missions. Give us the wisdom to know the difference between great tasks that you're calling us to do and those that we're imposing on ourselves (or allowing others to impose on us), for the former we'll be able to do in Christ, while the latter may overtask our already weakened bodies to our detriment. Help us to find joy in being called in spite of our infirmities, so that we laugh in delight, rather than shocked disbelief. In Christ's name, Amen.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Stepping Out in Faith
Author's note: The following was written in 2003, and later published in a newsletter for chronically ill Christians called The Encourager. I'm adding it to the blog in case it is something that would be of encouragement to a wider audience. I'll be doing this with other writings I've submitted over the years as well.
In Genesis 12:1-25:18, the Bible tells us Abraham’s story, how God called him from his homeland to go to a new place that God had set aside for him and his descendants. Abraham had to leave behind everything and everyone he knew, taking only his possessions and his family. He had to step out in faith, trusting in God that where he was going would be better than what he left.
It occurs to me that we’re all on a similar journey when it comes to dealing with the changes that being chronically ill has created in our lives. Despite our illnesses, we are called to run with perseverance the race marked out for us (Heb 12:1), and that’s hard to do, literally or figuratively, when you’re ill.
I read once that many of us are like roller coasters, pushing to the top of the hill with everything we’ve got, and then crashing down to the bottom when we’ve pushed too far. On the other hand, I think many of us are like kiddie rides that just move around in small circles, going nowhere fast, for fear that we’ll only make ourselves sicker if we do more than the bare minimum needed to survive. Then more of us, I suspect, are like me, vacillating between the two extremes with an all or nothing mentality. Both extremes are damaging, whether we’re abusing our bodies beyond their capabilities, or allowing them to whither and atrophy. Neither lifestyle honors God or the temporary temples He’s loaned us (1 Cor. 6:19-20). But how does this compare to Abraham?
When God called Abraham to leave his home to go to a new place, he didn’t shout “Hot-diggity-dog Let’s make tracks ” and go running off into the desert with nothing but the clothing on his back. There weren’t restaurants on every corner, nor a “Wal-get” just around the next bend where he could pick up whatever he forgot to bring. It took planning to make sure they had what they needed all along the way. And when they needed to stop for a while, they did. They didn’t even take a direct route, but rather one that followed the rivers so they’d have water.
Neither did Abraham say “I don’t know about this… It doesn’t seem such a good idea,” all while worrying about the “what-if’s.” It could have been so easy for him to justify staying right where he was, choosing to keep what he already had, and forfeiting the promise of something better. After all, traveling back then was quite perilous, and certainly uncomfortable.
Abraham stepped out in faith, did what needed to be done to make the journey, rested when it was necessary, and eventually made it to the promised land and received God’s blessing. He traded all he had left behind for something far better. Perhaps we could find a way to do the same in the way we deal with our illnesses. Perhaps there’s a way we can find something workable between roller coasters and kiddie rides. How about a ferris wheel: slowly rising up to new challenges, enjoying the view from the top for a moment, and gently descending into a period of rest before we rise up again? Whatever we do, breaking out of our destructive habits will include stepping out of our comfort zones and trying something new, and trusting that if we do it for the right reasons, to honor God, that we’ll find ourselves trading up for something better.
Father, I thank you that You always give us something better when You ask us to give up something, no matter how much we may resist doing so. Give us the courage to willingly hand over everything we value and trust You to replace it with whatever You wish us to have instead, and give us the wisdom to know that Your way really is better. Give us the strength to follow the path you lay before us, and keep us hoping in the Promised Land at the end of the journey! In Christ's name, Amen!
In Genesis 12:1-25:18, the Bible tells us Abraham’s story, how God called him from his homeland to go to a new place that God had set aside for him and his descendants. Abraham had to leave behind everything and everyone he knew, taking only his possessions and his family. He had to step out in faith, trusting in God that where he was going would be better than what he left.
It occurs to me that we’re all on a similar journey when it comes to dealing with the changes that being chronically ill has created in our lives. Despite our illnesses, we are called to run with perseverance the race marked out for us (Heb 12:1), and that’s hard to do, literally or figuratively, when you’re ill.
I read once that many of us are like roller coasters, pushing to the top of the hill with everything we’ve got, and then crashing down to the bottom when we’ve pushed too far. On the other hand, I think many of us are like kiddie rides that just move around in small circles, going nowhere fast, for fear that we’ll only make ourselves sicker if we do more than the bare minimum needed to survive. Then more of us, I suspect, are like me, vacillating between the two extremes with an all or nothing mentality. Both extremes are damaging, whether we’re abusing our bodies beyond their capabilities, or allowing them to whither and atrophy. Neither lifestyle honors God or the temporary temples He’s loaned us (1 Cor. 6:19-20). But how does this compare to Abraham?
When God called Abraham to leave his home to go to a new place, he didn’t shout “Hot-diggity-dog Let’s make tracks ” and go running off into the desert with nothing but the clothing on his back. There weren’t restaurants on every corner, nor a “Wal-get” just around the next bend where he could pick up whatever he forgot to bring. It took planning to make sure they had what they needed all along the way. And when they needed to stop for a while, they did. They didn’t even take a direct route, but rather one that followed the rivers so they’d have water.
Neither did Abraham say “I don’t know about this… It doesn’t seem such a good idea,” all while worrying about the “what-if’s.” It could have been so easy for him to justify staying right where he was, choosing to keep what he already had, and forfeiting the promise of something better. After all, traveling back then was quite perilous, and certainly uncomfortable.
Abraham stepped out in faith, did what needed to be done to make the journey, rested when it was necessary, and eventually made it to the promised land and received God’s blessing. He traded all he had left behind for something far better. Perhaps we could find a way to do the same in the way we deal with our illnesses. Perhaps there’s a way we can find something workable between roller coasters and kiddie rides. How about a ferris wheel: slowly rising up to new challenges, enjoying the view from the top for a moment, and gently descending into a period of rest before we rise up again? Whatever we do, breaking out of our destructive habits will include stepping out of our comfort zones and trying something new, and trusting that if we do it for the right reasons, to honor God, that we’ll find ourselves trading up for something better.
Father, I thank you that You always give us something better when You ask us to give up something, no matter how much we may resist doing so. Give us the courage to willingly hand over everything we value and trust You to replace it with whatever You wish us to have instead, and give us the wisdom to know that Your way really is better. Give us the strength to follow the path you lay before us, and keep us hoping in the Promised Land at the end of the journey! In Christ's name, Amen!
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Release Me!
This past Sunday, our pastor was sharing the latest of a series of sermons on the life of Old Testament Joseph (Genesis 37 & 39-47). It was a message I needed to hear. This particular sermon was focusing on Genesis chapter 40, in which Joseph was in prison after being falsely accused of attacking his employer's wife, and while there, he interprets the dreams of two fellow prisoners, one of whom is predicted to be released and returned to his position as the Pharaoh's cupbearer. He asked the cupbearer to remember him to the Pharaoh, to tell Pharaoh his story of unjust imprisonment, and ask for his release. The cupbearer was released, just as Joseph said he would be, but forgot about Joseph for two full years afterwards, before telling Pharaoh about him when Pharaoh had dreams of his own in need of interpretation. Our pastor was talking about what Joseph's thoughts and attitudes must have been... How easy it would have been to become discouraged, angry, and hopeless. Yet Joseph is described throughout his story as having remained faithful and praising God, of displaying good attitude and a good work ethic at a time when most people would be inclined to sulk. I found this message very convicting, for I, too, feel as if I'm imprisoned wrongly, only within a body that doesn't do what I want it to do, and charges me a high price when I do more than it will tolerate. Being chronically ill with no answers or healing in sight can and has made me feel discouraged, angry and hopeless at times. And it gets especially so when others "forget" me, either by not taking my situation seriously (as many do when there aren't any easy answers or fixes), or simply by moving on with their own lives and forgetting to occasionally invite me into it, even though I often have to decline such invitations (it's still nice to be asked!) I need to remember that God never forgets! He still has a plan for me, and will release me from this physical prison when His time is right for it, whether it will be in this life or the next. I need to keep the hope alive because of that promise, for hope is what keeps us going and lends power to a good attitude. Yet, I don't know when God's time for such release will come, and this isn't really my life to waste (since all good things come from Him) so I need to make the most of every day in spite of my limitations, rather than sit around expectantly waiting for a "better tomorrow" before trying to live my life. With that in mind, I've decided to do my best to keep on hoping that maybe this is the day I will be released from my ever-present pain and fatigue, but to forge ahead as if that release won't be coming anytime soon. When my Lord comes to unlock my prison door, I want Him to find me productive, content with my lot, and praising Him even before I know He's at the door, so that release is purely bonus.
Father, I thank you that we have such good examples in the Bible from which to learn. And I thank you that the Bible is full of Your promises; promises we know we can count on in Your good time. Thank You, Lord, in advance for the release You will give us from our prisons. In the meantime, help us to live each day to the fullest in service to You and those You have blessed us with for a time. Give us the strength and grace to do what You would have us do, and to do it cheerfully, with good attitude and a good work ethic. In Jesus' name, Amen.
Father, I thank you that we have such good examples in the Bible from which to learn. And I thank you that the Bible is full of Your promises; promises we know we can count on in Your good time. Thank You, Lord, in advance for the release You will give us from our prisons. In the meantime, help us to live each day to the fullest in service to You and those You have blessed us with for a time. Give us the strength and grace to do what You would have us do, and to do it cheerfully, with good attitude and a good work ethic. In Jesus' name, Amen.
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