The Darkness has Not Overcome

Fear is sneaky.

Most days, especially when the sun is shining, I can function normally and leave the rest to God.

But then there are the times when the days have been gloomy and the girls have been testy and night falls and I'm left feeling like the locomotive of COVID-19 is barreling down the tracks toward my family and it's only a matter of time til it hits and all I can do is hunker down and wait.

On one such night last week, I actually did something right about my emotions. I talked to my husband (who's been a voice of calm in the insanity of the last few weeks) and then went up to bed and opened my Bible.

(I'm working my way through "The Story," an adaptation of the NIV that presents the words of Scripture, while in selections, as one continuous story. Reading it is much like reading any other book, with breaks for chapters rather than separate books with chapters and verses. While there are brief editorial breaks to explain themes or summarize missing sections, it's largely simply the Biblical text, and it's been a nice way for me to get a new perspective on passages that otherwise have become rote.)

I opened to my bookmark, and this is the first thing that met my eyes.

That's where the stirring of the Holy Spirit stopped me, and what I believe He impressed on my heart was exactly what I needed at that moment. I'd like to share it with you, in the hope that you may be encouraged, too. It's maybe not completely cohesive, but hopefully it's coherent!

In the beginning - As God was speaking planets and molecules into existence, He already knew that the year AD 2020 would find a pandemic sweeping the globe.

He knew it all: the beginning of COVID-19 in China; Italy's anguish; that hospitals would be unprepared; the steady creep of the disease from our continent's coasts toward its interior. He already knew every detail of what was coming, including the ones we don't know yet.

He isn't surprised; He isn't less good; He isn't less in control.

the Word - Jesus, "the Word," is the sum total of God's message to humanity. He's the culmination of everything God had said before the New Testament, everything God has promised to say to His people, and everything God is ever going to say. Think of it! All this embodied in one 33-year life on planet Earth. (Spoiler alert: His life and teaching still have ramifications for us today!)

Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. - Seventh grade science tells us humans are made when an egg and sperm fuse to become a zygote. This mono-cellular carrier of a complete genetic code has all the information necessary to bring into being a fully functioning adult man or woman.

John, the writer of the above passage, tells us that it is actually an egg, a sperm, and God who make each person (although maybe not in that order...).

Psalms says God knitted my children together within my womb.

This is an issue of personal workmanship!

If I take pains that the frisky cat not claw up the afghan I crocheted - if I delight in the art and craftsmanship of my hand and my husband's and our friends' - if I hang these things on my walls and store them gently when they're not on display - how much more does my God care for the two miraculous lives He designed, built, and brought to life? We're not guaranteed a pass on suffering or even on infection, but He knows. He understands. My fear, my attempt to trust, my weakness in the face of the unknown, all of it.

And He loves my daughters more fiercely even than their mommy and daddy do, and He will work all things to good. They are safe in the hands that made them. (And while I still pray that my husband and I will be allowed to raise our children to adulthood, I also thank God for allowing us to raise them this day.)

life/light - In this time of disease, we understand our need for life much like we understand our need for light only when in a dark room in the middle of a power outage. Jesus possessed the life that was the light of all mankind.

And we killed it.

The darkness in you and the darkness in me rose up and extinguished Him. (We spend a lot of time talking about the good in everyone, but why would we put so much effort into proclaiming our goodness if there wasn't actually darkness - sin - there, too?)

He was dead.

Gone.
Kaput.
Laid in a grave.

(Have you been to a funeral? Looked in a casket? Seen it prepared to be lowered into the ground? How many of those people do you see walking down the sidewalk a week or two later?)

And for two days, it looked like the darkness had overcome.

But.

But then?

Then came Easter morning.

Faith & Courage

Eight days ago, faith and courage met, and my world changed.

But it wasn't purely MY faith and courage. At times, my faith was fear and courage had fled; it was then that the faith and courage of others carried the transformation.

The world change?
The birth of my second daughter.

"The second time is easier," they say. "The second time is shorter," they [nearly] promise.

My second time was harder, and it was actually the same length as the first.

There were times I wanted to quit; those around me (literally) held me up.
There were times I didn't think I could finish; they cheered me on.

So much of life is a marathon - harder and longer and more discouraging than we thought it would be.

It's in those times that we ride the wings of the faith and courage of those around us.

That is, if those around us have faith and courage.

Who surrounds you today?

One Question

I think that humans live their lives trying to answer a question.

I do not know if we all ask the same question as everyone else. I don't know if an individual keeps the same question his whole life. I think many are unaware that they live life asking their question, yet even without their knowledge it commands their decisions, decides their habits, jades their perspective, and even manipulates their emotions.

In 2011, I participated in a Christian book study with friends. During the soul-searching it involved, I stumbled across my question. Actually, I believe God pointed it out to me.

"Am I enough?"

What a treacherous question to have, unknowingly, as a driving force!

While it percolated unidentified through my life, I unwittingly asked those around me to answer it. Was I enough of a daughter to be acknowledged by my father and approved of by my mother? Was I enough of a friend for those I loved? Was I enough of a Christian as I played piano for offertory and volunteered in the church library and participated in church programs? Was I enough of a student while I maintained a 4.0 GPA? Was I enough of a human being as I worked  two jobs, kept a daily devotional/prayer time, exercised, got my black belt, played hostess, served my friend as a bridesmaid?

And the answer kept coming back: No. No. No. No.

Not enough. Not enough. Not enough. Not enough. You're not enough.

Is it any wonder that seeing others get by with less angered me? Is it any surprise that every time I was snubbed or reprimanded without my achievements also being appreciated, my temper took a dive? I was asking everyone around me, "Am I enough?", yet they didn't know I was asking - I didn't even know I was asking - and they were never meant to provide my answer.

It wasn't until I asked God my question - and then listened for an answer - that I finally started to get out from under its domination.

He gave me my answer:

No, I was not enough. I was hopeless, stuck, and unimpressive.

But Jesus.

Jesus brings hope. Jesus enables change and growth. Jesus makes all things new.

Jesus is enough!

When I am in Him, that means I don't have to be enough anymore. Because He is.

What a difference it makes to finally have my question answered: No, I am not enough, but I no longer need to be. Someone else has been enough, and He is enough for me, too.

Life has a whole lot more peace when a question is answered.

Yet, here I am, five years after I got my answer, and I forget that I still ask my question.

I fight with my husband on the days it catches me unaware as I silently ask him to answer it for me.

My baby girl cries in my arms, her eyes begging me to make her tummy stop hurting, and my heart breaks with the weight of my question again.

And I realize that this is my question probably for the rest of my years, in whatever circumstance life finds me. And I thank God I know my answer.

The Full Life

I've started re-reading Angela Thomas's book, Do You Think I'm Beautiful?.

A strange confession to begin a post with, I know. But, reading through it this time, I have a different perspective now - now as a married woman.

When I was single, even when there was no significant other in the picture, I imagined the adventures and cuddles of marriage and seemed to consider it some sort of higher state of existence.

Then I tried it and found out that it starts to feel a lot like real life very quickly.

Go figure!

Please do not (purposefully or otherwise) misunderstand. I love married life. I love my husband. I would never want to go back to the single years, not even for a trip to Italy (and that's saying something).

But God seems to smile and chuckle when he sees me running around, getting things perfect, with the expectation that everything will then feel perfect.

Because, you know what? On that evening when I most emotionally need my husband to gush over my cooking, that will be the evening that he really isn't hungry.

And, you know what else? On these days when I'm looking forward to having a mini paradise of a Saturday, I'll wake up and find out that something is smack dab in the way of my little (or gigantic) hopes for the day.

And sometimes, I'm ready for my romantic husband to come rushing through the door and sweep me off my feet and out of my doldrums, and instead he comes home more discouraged than I am.

Why?

Not because he's a bad husband.

Not because he's slacking.

Not because he doesn't care anymore.

But because he wasn't made to fill my every need.

He wasn't. That's the bald truth. Oh, I know he would love to! But when I ask him to fill the voids of my heart, I am not just being needy; I am sinning against my husband. I am attempting to body-slam my husband into that space that God specifically put into me with the purpose of creating a yearning that He could then fill! And my husband doesn't fit. Go figure.

BUT -

When God is in His rightful place, then I am not dependent on my husband coming home and haling me a culinary hero.

When God gives me value, I am not reading into everything my husband says and does as an estimation of my worth as a human being.

When God is my Savior, my husband gets to just be my husband.

Now, when I am a whole person without my husband, it's not that all of a sudden I don't like to spend time with him.

Quite the opposite!

We find our sustenance in our Creator and get to enjoy each other as complete individuals, complete with quirks and hobbies and pranks and shared secrets.

When he and I are whole without the other, we save our relationship from the realm of the parasitic. We are no longer loaning crutches to our spouse as we attempt to limp along on one leg ourself; we get to experience healing and then share that healing with each other. Because we no longer NEED each other, we get to enjoy just being ourselves, together.

And that means that on those days when my husband gets a case of the blues, I can be there for him. I get my strength from beyond our marriage, which lets me pour into it and into my husband when there is a deficit.

I don't have to panic because he isn't my emotional life support.

And, you know what? This is still real life. But I am not crabbing for fulfillment from someone who is, in return, looking to me to fill them. That sort of contractual agreement ("I'll make you feel good if you make me feel good") gets empty real quick. But, as a whole human being in a marriage to another whole human being, I get to live real life more fully and with more gusto!

Or, as Mrs. Thomas puts it, "So what about the other [ones we love]? They can be fabulous when your soul is full of the love of God. But they can be devastating when you have expected they could fill up the dry and empty places" (47).

Not a Good Christian Girl Anymore

When I first considered starting a blog (in the spring of 2012), that's what I thought I would name it. Not as a jab at my Christian heritage or a rebellion against the Christian faith but as a chronicle of my struggle to leave behind acting like a Christian and start being like Christ.

"Many of us don't want to be led by the Holy Spirit. . . . Many of us don't want to be led by anyone other than ourselves." "If you say you want the Holy Spirit, you must first honestly ask yourself if you want to do His will" (from Forgotten God, by Francis Chan, pp. 50, 51).

I ask God for His wisdom. I beg for it. I need it now and in the life to which He is calling me.

I ask Him to move in me, that His Holy Spirit would fill me and take hold of me.

Then I turn around and do it all myself.

After all, I know what the church expects. I know what modern, American Christianity expects. If I let Him do it, He might do it wrong! It might look weird when He gets finished with it, and that would be embarrassing.

I slap God's hands away from my life and my affairs, say, "I'll handle this," and bustle off with a nod of my head.

Then it falls apart and I run back, dump it in His lap, and ask Him through my groans and tears to make it all work.

But, oh, when will I learn? If I would leave it with Him from the first, it wouldn't be broken . . . and if it looked broken in His hands (and I left it there still), I could trust Him to make it all right.

Oh! the peace of mind I sell for my "right" to have things my way!

But why do I want the Holy Spirit? Am I asking like Simon the Magician, trying to buy Him for myself (p. 84)?

Is this an effort to be "Christian cool," one of those people to whom others look up? Is it some sort of Christian club membership to me? I've always wanted to be part of that elusive inner circle, whatever the context. Is that all this desire has been?

I know that at least part of the desire comes with my life calling. I'm totally unequipped. I feel like I'm play-acting and it's only a matter of time before I'm discovered, like the Holy Spirit is my only chance at "legitimacy."

But, if God has called, isn't that legitimate enough?
When do I stop seeking my nod of approval from the world - even the "Christian" world?
When will God be enough?

Maybe when I'm done following rules and am ready to pursue a whole different way of life.
Maybe when I'm done looking good and am ready to be made good.
Maybe when I'm done focusing on myself and am ready to follow Him.

Maybe when I'm done being a good Christian girl.

One Month

We just passed the one month mark in our marriage. How strange to think that we will only count up - never down - again in our relationship. But it is a good sort of strange!

A few firsts to have come about in our first month:

• my first chance to completely organize a home (the kitchen was especially fun . . . the rest is still in progress). A bit overwhelming at times, but worth it in the end.
• my first prolonged experience at menu planning. My cooking has generally met with success, but it has also included . . .
• my first major misjudgment on cooking time. The chicken didn't thaw as quickly as I thought it would, which meant it didn't cook as quickly as I thought it would, which meant that our main course consisted of squash and bread and apple crisp, with baked chicken for dessert.
• my first school loan payments. Yippee.
• our first budget (which didn't crash and burn as badly as we thought it would, yet I learned how quickly unexpected expenses like to raise their ugly heads!).
• our first time inviting people to our home!

Thankfully, this list doesn't include our first fight; we took care of that a while ago! :) Seriously though, there is a sort of relief to not have that looming overhead.

Something God has been impressing upon me lately is the blessing of my own insufficiency. During college, I could keep my chin above the water, and people generally believed that I was doing so with ease. I sometimes floundered and panicked, but overall I found the ability to pull myself up by my proverbial bootstraps and stay on the successful side of the grading process. I could make myself look good and get the credit for it, too. But this homemaker thing is different.

A couple weeks ago, I felt overwhelmed by all the new responsibilities. I would get up in the mornings and go at it and not feel like I had really gotten anywhere by the time I laid down at night. In homemaking, there is no deadline when you don't have to think about that project anymore. There is no final test when you can leave that topic behind forever. There is no last day in the semester and the promise of a final grade that pulls you through like a light at the end of the tunnel. Instead, dishes are constantly needing washing, the floor seems to grow dirt by itself, dirty laundry regenerates, and don't you know that nothing cleans itself! The clean socks have been in that basket in my living room for days and they still haven't figured out how to find their match!

Yet, this time of finding myself fundamentally lacking is also a blessing.

If I have everything in hand, where is room for God to work?
If I am successful at all I do, what has God done for me?
If I am wrapped up in my work and busy acing this wife/homemaker thing, how has God moved in my life?

When I can't do it and can't keep up and can't find the strength, I get to see God.

He works when I can't anymore.
He acts on my behalf when am unable to do it myself.
He moves and displays His strength when my strength is gone.

You know, I cannot figure out why I run myself ragged so often trying to prove myself. It is more fun to get to see God in all His grace and power, after all.

Is my stubbornness/determination coming between me and my experience of God's majesty?

Does God care about housework?
I think so.

And I am trying to learn to fall to my knees more quickly rather than flailing to keep my feet under me. After all, which is more important to me: the power of Christ or my stupid pride?

Is the key to success in the Christian life admitting to being an utter failure? (Hmm, that echoes the beatitudes.)

I'll gladly wave my white flag if it means that He gets the control and the glory in my life.

Although, I'm fresh out of white flags. Maybe one of these socks will do.