Gasp.
The phrase that gets joked about as soon as the topic of marriage and family arises.
The words that immediately bring to mind mother-in-law stories.
Seemingly the bane of many and the delight of few.
Why?
Building a new marriage challenges every fresh-faced couple . . . so why do we complicate it with built-in, ready-made expectations of enmity with our spouse's family of origin?
I have been blessed with wonderful in-laws who have welcomed me and allowed my husband and me to begin life as our own family. Yet, it can still be interesting establishing new relationships - ones that will be with me the rest of my life - in a manner I have never before experienced.
I chose my husband, and in that respect I chose my in-laws. I regret neither. Actually, I quite enjoy both, and in this I find great joy! But what a strange tension to know that these are people I shall do life with from now on - and likewise, I suppose, for my husband with my original family.
Normally, I find a friendship with those with a great deal in common with me. My in-laws and I share a certain young man in common and, beyond that, we might or might not share anything else in common.
So what?
In my mind, I draw this out with the marriage/church analogy: marriage is to reflect the relationship of Christ to His Church, and to the extent that a marriage is healthy and loving, it is successful.
So, what about the in-laws?
Adam and Eve didn't have to work things out between their families in the first marriage ever, but God knew that marriage would bring in-laws into existence. (And, I believe, that just because they weren't part of the original creation, they are not necessarily lesser, bad, or lacking in things to teach us.)
We land ourselves with a group of almost-strangers with whom we will grow and experience life at the moment we say "I do." Should this picture life within the body of Christ?
Please, understand me: my biblical research is limited here. In fact, I haven't ever heard this connection made or read about it from any well-respected theologian.
BUT.
If Christ and the church :: the husband and wife, then the couple and their in-laws :: brothers and sisters in Christ?
Am I way off track here?
We grow and learn to love those in the Church for no other reason than that we have covenanted with the same God and made Him Lord of our lives. Here we are, all denominational persuasions, all opinionated on the proper color of church carpeting, all striving to embody a new life under new rules empowered by new grace every day.
Yes, we clash sometimes. After all, not everyone's mother made potato salad the same way. But in the essentials, the big stuff, the things that we can look at and say, "This is fundamental and necessary to Christianity as we know it," I would think that, done well, the Church can cross boundaries that no one else would find a reason to cross.
So, I covenanted with a man for the rest of our lives, and we each got another family as a bonus. A family that we probably wouldn't have known otherwise. A family on the other side of our typical boundaries that we build a bridge to on the basis of a marriage across them.
Because of my in-laws, I have already learned to add pasta to creamy pea salad, discovered the wonders of the bean pot, experienced deer hunting, and reaped the joy of two nephews. They're mostly surface issues, but they're a start of something much bigger, something I am only getting ephemeral hints of at the moment.
Obviously, this is a topic, an idea, that is still growing, evolving, stretching, twisting, and marinating inside me. That means that this post is probably rougher, less polished, than I would normally desire. That also means that I will probably be posting about it again . . .
Monday, November 11, 2013
Tuesday, October 22, 2013
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:
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.
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!
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.
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
A Day in the Life of a New Wife
As a couple approaches matrimony, people delight in telling them how humbling marriage is. I heard it often enough that I could nod sagely every time I heard it, with a conspiratorial smile because I was "in the know" about how my selfishness and sinfulness was about to be revealed in a whole new way after I said "I do."
But marriage is humbling in other ways. No one bothered to mention them.
Take last Thursday for instance.
I needed inspiration for supper preparation and so had asked my darling hubby what would tickle his palate. His response was "Meatloaf!"
Excellent, I mused. I can use Mom's recipe - I know that one is tasty - and it will feel homey for me.
"What would you like on the side?" his excellent wife pressed further.
"Something cold," he replied with a smile.
Something cold? I thought. What is a "cold" side? I am used to hot potato dishes, baked beans, steamed vegetables, etc., etc., adorning the sides of our dinner plates. I am prepared for the struggle to time them all exactly so they are finished at the same time and able to be served up hot together. WHY would someone want a nice hot dish served cold???
So, I asked him what he meant.
"How about creamy pea salad?"
First of all, I don't eat pea salad.
Second of all, my mother doesn't make pea salad.
Third of all, I don't know how to make pea salad.
So I smile and send him off to work and set about finding a recipe from the all-wise Bing for creamy pea salad.
I found a recipe - one with ingredients that I mostly already had and that sounded agreeable - and set out to make it.
First, I hopped in his truck to do a little grocery shopping in order to fill in the gaps in my pantry. I couldn't find the lever to make the seat slide forward, so I just sat forward in the seat, leaned against the seat belt, pointed my toe, and managed to work the gas and break pedals somewhat comfortably . . . at least without being a menace to traffic.
I rolled into the little local grocery and set about making my purchases for my home-cooked meal for my hubby. As I strolled leisurely down the aisles, I saw the bread rack.
I make my own bread, was the snobbish thought which likes to echo through my head.
You are almost out of bread, was the impish thought in return.
Look, there's even some bakery bread. That can't be as bad as the factory stuff. You don't have the time or fresh flour for your own right now, and making bread with regular flour is a sad concession in itself.
Yes, I could rationalize it, so I sheepishly tucked some store-bought, bakery-made bread into my cart and tried to look nonchalant.
I got back home and put away my groceries feeling very much like a real homemaker. The bread went into the freezer and the rest of the groceries found homes in my cupboards.
Next task: creamy pea salad.
Required: a hard-boiled egg.
Hard-boiled egg? A hard-boiled egg? I don't eat hard-boiled eggs. I don't make hard-boiled eggs. How am I supposed to hard-boil an egg?
Back to Bing I went, feeling less and less competent as a cook than I had in years.
Eureka! Bing pulled through, and I made a few extra eggs to keep in the fridge, just in case the hubby likes to eat them. Good, back on track to being competent in the kitchen.
The salad slid together, and I even had to admit it was good. The meatloaf roasted, and it tasted like home.
I admitted to the new husband that his new wife had bought bread, which he happily forgave, and I glowingly enjoyed his praises over my culinary efforts.
So, it turned out well (better than well, actually!); but the next time you start waxing eloquent about marriage's humbling qualities, stop and make sure the couple you're talking to knows that it isn't just humbling as it pertains to sin and redemption.
Oh, no.
Once you start realizing that there are real, reasonable people out there that eat the food you always snub in the potluck line, you just might be serving up a cold side of humble pie.
But marriage is humbling in other ways. No one bothered to mention them.
Take last Thursday for instance.
I needed inspiration for supper preparation and so had asked my darling hubby what would tickle his palate. His response was "Meatloaf!"
Excellent, I mused. I can use Mom's recipe - I know that one is tasty - and it will feel homey for me.
"What would you like on the side?" his excellent wife pressed further.
"Something cold," he replied with a smile.
Something cold? I thought. What is a "cold" side? I am used to hot potato dishes, baked beans, steamed vegetables, etc., etc., adorning the sides of our dinner plates. I am prepared for the struggle to time them all exactly so they are finished at the same time and able to be served up hot together. WHY would someone want a nice hot dish served cold???
So, I asked him what he meant.
"How about creamy pea salad?"
First of all, I don't eat pea salad.
Second of all, my mother doesn't make pea salad.
Third of all, I don't know how to make pea salad.
So I smile and send him off to work and set about finding a recipe from the all-wise Bing for creamy pea salad.
I found a recipe - one with ingredients that I mostly already had and that sounded agreeable - and set out to make it.
First, I hopped in his truck to do a little grocery shopping in order to fill in the gaps in my pantry. I couldn't find the lever to make the seat slide forward, so I just sat forward in the seat, leaned against the seat belt, pointed my toe, and managed to work the gas and break pedals somewhat comfortably . . . at least without being a menace to traffic.
I rolled into the little local grocery and set about making my purchases for my home-cooked meal for my hubby. As I strolled leisurely down the aisles, I saw the bread rack.
I make my own bread, was the snobbish thought which likes to echo through my head.
You are almost out of bread, was the impish thought in return.
Look, there's even some bakery bread. That can't be as bad as the factory stuff. You don't have the time or fresh flour for your own right now, and making bread with regular flour is a sad concession in itself.
Yes, I could rationalize it, so I sheepishly tucked some store-bought, bakery-made bread into my cart and tried to look nonchalant.
I got back home and put away my groceries feeling very much like a real homemaker. The bread went into the freezer and the rest of the groceries found homes in my cupboards.
Next task: creamy pea salad.
Required: a hard-boiled egg.
Hard-boiled egg? A hard-boiled egg? I don't eat hard-boiled eggs. I don't make hard-boiled eggs. How am I supposed to hard-boil an egg?
Back to Bing I went, feeling less and less competent as a cook than I had in years.
Eureka! Bing pulled through, and I made a few extra eggs to keep in the fridge, just in case the hubby likes to eat them. Good, back on track to being competent in the kitchen.
The salad slid together, and I even had to admit it was good. The meatloaf roasted, and it tasted like home.
I admitted to the new husband that his new wife had bought bread, which he happily forgave, and I glowingly enjoyed his praises over my culinary efforts.
So, it turned out well (better than well, actually!); but the next time you start waxing eloquent about marriage's humbling qualities, stop and make sure the couple you're talking to knows that it isn't just humbling as it pertains to sin and redemption.
Oh, no.
Once you start realizing that there are real, reasonable people out there that eat the food you always snub in the potluck line, you just might be serving up a cold side of humble pie.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
New Wife, New Life
Maybe I should have a warning label: "Caution. New Wife."
My brain is going crazy with everything it needs to do: finish clean-up, finish moving in, finish laundry from the wedding trip, go through pictures, write thank-you's, stay up to date on outside life as it moves past, decide which church commitments to enter and which to wait til later . . . dishes, laundry, cleaning, friends, cooking, groceries . . .
Oh, and care for the husband. That one I like. A lot.
The funniest things make me feel like a "real" wife. Yesterday, it was filling the ice cube tray. Stupid, I know. But for some reason, that simple act said, "You are no longer defined as daughter, relative, sister, friend. Your new identity - and your main one - is wife."
And I've only had one laundry snafu so far!
The really strange part is the feeling of vulnerability. My heart is walking around outside my body in the form of a 6'5", twenty-five-year-old man.
When people slight him, it hurts.
Physically.
I can feel it.
When he is attacked, I would rather they come after me, because it hurts less.
This is the infant stage of marriage. I am that wide-eyed baby, awash in wonder at the simplest aspects of married life. Every sensation - every sight, sound, and color of marriage - compounds its intensity for my unaccustomed mind.
I know some of this (or a lot of it) will fade into a hum-drum background as this new reality becomes my new normal. But I don't want all of it to become flat and tedious. I want to retain the wonder of some of it.
It makes me think of Tae Kwon Do. Our instructor always warned us, "Getting your black belt is not the finish line; that is when the real work begins."
I guess I've begun the real work of my life, perhaps the realest work in life.
Right now, it's still fun and interesting. I know that will change.
But right now, watch out world. There's a new wife down the road!
My brain is going crazy with everything it needs to do: finish clean-up, finish moving in, finish laundry from the wedding trip, go through pictures, write thank-you's, stay up to date on outside life as it moves past, decide which church commitments to enter and which to wait til later . . . dishes, laundry, cleaning, friends, cooking, groceries . . .
Oh, and care for the husband. That one I like. A lot.
The funniest things make me feel like a "real" wife. Yesterday, it was filling the ice cube tray. Stupid, I know. But for some reason, that simple act said, "You are no longer defined as daughter, relative, sister, friend. Your new identity - and your main one - is wife."
And I've only had one laundry snafu so far!
The really strange part is the feeling of vulnerability. My heart is walking around outside my body in the form of a 6'5", twenty-five-year-old man.
When people slight him, it hurts.
Physically.
I can feel it.
When he is attacked, I would rather they come after me, because it hurts less.
This is the infant stage of marriage. I am that wide-eyed baby, awash in wonder at the simplest aspects of married life. Every sensation - every sight, sound, and color of marriage - compounds its intensity for my unaccustomed mind.
I know some of this (or a lot of it) will fade into a hum-drum background as this new reality becomes my new normal. But I don't want all of it to become flat and tedious. I want to retain the wonder of some of it.
It makes me think of Tae Kwon Do. Our instructor always warned us, "Getting your black belt is not the finish line; that is when the real work begins."
I guess I've begun the real work of my life, perhaps the realest work in life.
Right now, it's still fun and interesting. I know that will change.
But right now, watch out world. There's a new wife down the road!
Friday, September 6, 2013
Already/Not Yet
As my wedding day approaches, I've been trying hard not to be the obnoxious bride. You know the type. All they can talk about is their wedding. The only person who holds any interest is their fiance. They are constantly posting countdown pix on Facebook.
Ok, so maybe I am doing that last one.
Anyway, it's always been a bit of a mystery as to what drives those "almost-brides". As I find myself right in the midst of that state, I'm confused as to how to explain it.
After all, little girls dream of meeting their Prince Charming, of their wedding day, and of their family to follow. But nobody thinks about that stage when you've found Prince Charming, the wedding is in the works, but you're not there yet.
Which brings to mind that phrase from my Biblical Theology class, "already/not yet"; and things seemed to fall into place in my mind.
Think of marriage within its Biblical context: Christ and the church. Marriage - Christian or not - reflects the union of mankind to God within a reconciled relationship. Our marriage ceremony and celebration is to be a foretaste of the marriage supper of the Lamb, the ultimate celebration as God's people finally enjoy unfettered, unmasked life before the presence of the LORD.
So, if that's the case for the wedding ceremony and for the oneness of the following relationship, maybe (my thought process goes) there is something similarly significant hiding within the folds of this great analogy and my current relational status that could assist in my elucidation.
Let's see.
Wedding = the final coming of Christ.
Engagement = ?
Engagement is the time I get to plan for the wedding, to prepare myself and my possessions for the transition to his. I steam my dress, ready the flowers, set up the chapel . . . why? So things are in preparation for him and that day. My belongings are scattered haphazardly between his home and my parents' as I get ready for a change in location, some of them preceding me, some to accompany me later.
Isn't this a reflection (or is it a dim glimpse of future things?) of this time in the Church's history?
We're not completely "pre-bridegroom" in that we have met Him. We know who He is. We have accepted His offer gratefully and are engaged to enjoy Him forever. That's why we call ourselves Christians.
So, while we have the understanding that He has spoken for us, we are still working to prepare ourselves and the world around us for the coming of that joyful day. We do good things, things creating beauty and reconciliation, not because they bring about the day of our spiritual marriage supper but because they ready us for it. We seek to cloth ourselves in holy garments of pleasing works in order that He might delight in us that much more. We actively move our treasures to heaven in preparation for the day of His coming. That tension of being in God's plan and in God's world and yet needing to wait for that last reckoning which will cement our position forever rings so familiarly in the heart of this almost-bride.
Almost. Not yet.
Already/not yet.
I love it when God just makes everything make sense.
Ok, so maybe I am doing that last one.
Anyway, it's always been a bit of a mystery as to what drives those "almost-brides". As I find myself right in the midst of that state, I'm confused as to how to explain it.
After all, little girls dream of meeting their Prince Charming, of their wedding day, and of their family to follow. But nobody thinks about that stage when you've found Prince Charming, the wedding is in the works, but you're not there yet.
Which brings to mind that phrase from my Biblical Theology class, "already/not yet"; and things seemed to fall into place in my mind.
Think of marriage within its Biblical context: Christ and the church. Marriage - Christian or not - reflects the union of mankind to God within a reconciled relationship. Our marriage ceremony and celebration is to be a foretaste of the marriage supper of the Lamb, the ultimate celebration as God's people finally enjoy unfettered, unmasked life before the presence of the LORD.
So, if that's the case for the wedding ceremony and for the oneness of the following relationship, maybe (my thought process goes) there is something similarly significant hiding within the folds of this great analogy and my current relational status that could assist in my elucidation.
Let's see.
Wedding = the final coming of Christ.
Engagement = ?
Engagement is the time I get to plan for the wedding, to prepare myself and my possessions for the transition to his. I steam my dress, ready the flowers, set up the chapel . . . why? So things are in preparation for him and that day. My belongings are scattered haphazardly between his home and my parents' as I get ready for a change in location, some of them preceding me, some to accompany me later.
Isn't this a reflection (or is it a dim glimpse of future things?) of this time in the Church's history?
We're not completely "pre-bridegroom" in that we have met Him. We know who He is. We have accepted His offer gratefully and are engaged to enjoy Him forever. That's why we call ourselves Christians.
So, while we have the understanding that He has spoken for us, we are still working to prepare ourselves and the world around us for the coming of that joyful day. We do good things, things creating beauty and reconciliation, not because they bring about the day of our spiritual marriage supper but because they ready us for it. We seek to cloth ourselves in holy garments of pleasing works in order that He might delight in us that much more. We actively move our treasures to heaven in preparation for the day of His coming. That tension of being in God's plan and in God's world and yet needing to wait for that last reckoning which will cement our position forever rings so familiarly in the heart of this almost-bride.
Almost. Not yet.
Already/not yet.
I love it when God just makes everything make sense.
Monday, August 26, 2013
Lions and Lessons
So I saw in my dream that he [Christian] made haste and went forward, that if possible he might get lodging there. Now, before he had gone far, he entered into a very narrow passage, which was about a furlong off the porter's lodge; and looking very narrowly before him as he went, he espied two lions in the way. Now, thought he, I see the dangers that Mistrust and Timorous were driven back by. (The lions were chained, but he saw not the chains.) Then he was afraid, and thought also himself to go back after them, for he thought nothing but death was before him. But the porter at the lodge, whose name is Watchful, perceiving that Christian made a halt as if he would go back, cried unto him, saying, "Is thy strength so small? Fear not the lions, for they are chained, and are placed there for trial of faith where it is, and for discovery of those that had none. Keep in the midst of the path, no hurt shall come unto thee."
Then I saw that he went on, trembling for fear of the lions, but taking good heed to the directions of the porter; he heard them roar, but they did him no harm.
- From The Pilgrim's Progress by John Bunyan
I seem to live my life in two modes: lackadaisically or in panic.
When times are good, I enjoy, kick back, and spiritually float along. These are the times when it is easiest to make it look like I have it all together. I am calm and confident, and I have answers!
Then real life hits, the rug gets tugged, everything hits the fan. I find myself grasping for something - anything - that will firmly withstand the buffeting. Usually this involves tears and groaning prayers on my part, begging for a happy resolution and a time of respite once again.
Yet, those moments are the catalyst for growth.
My only catalyst for growth.
Think about it: I ask God to help me grow, then He sends something tough to give me the opportunity to do just that. What do I do? I ask Him to take it away.
In one sense, that's good. At least I'm turning to Him and not away from Him. But I can't rationalize it that easily. Here's why: my prayers tend to run something like this, "Dear God, please help! I don't know if even You can fix this, but please please please try!" (Of course, they sound better out loud, but that's what they boil down to.)
And what happens?
He carries me through, and I see that the lions were chained the whole time. I never was in any real danger. That circumstance, that situation, that relationship that looked out of control was always wholly under His control.
And I see Him turn to me, take my hand, and say, ever so gently, "O you of little faith, why did you doubt?"
Someday, I hope to trust Him first and skip the panic.
Monday, August 12, 2013
"Thank You"
Last year, Ann Voskamp's book swept through Christian women's circles. Her style of writing, together with calling her readers back to an appreciation for all God's good gifts, touched hearts.
Yesterday, I read in my devotions about the discipline of thanksgiving - giving thanks to God even in hard times - and the life-attitude thankfulness (or its lack) can create.
I think this all stands out so much to me right now because, this summer, I saw very plainly what ingratitude looks like.
Ingratitude can disguise itself as perfectionism or as high standards. At its most veiled, it parades as wanting the best for the group. But it misses the individual. It crushes and destroys in the name of cohesion and doing the best for the whole.
It is never satisfied with what is; it only sees what still needs to be.
It tramples brothers and sisters in its quest for more.
Even more, when we stop being thankful, we begin to reason away the conviction of sin. My devotions pointed out that Eve, back in Eden, was tempted when she was no longer thankful for what God had provided (an entire garden of good food and beauty, for Pete's sake!) and only saw the one thing that was forbidden. If thankfulness had filled her, her attitude would have been one that focused on all of God's gifts. Instead, she saw the desirability of what was not hers, coveted it, took it. She did not worry about the godly life because she no longer saw the kind providence of God.
How vital thankfulness must be to a Christian's walk!
The fact of the matter is, we always have something for which we can be thankful. Always.
1 John 1:7 "But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin." ESV
Focus on that.
You are cleansed of all sin!
You, a sinner?
Absolutely.
But cleansed.
Feel the depth of the desperation of your sin! Then realize what Christ - His very blood - did for you.
What do you feel? I'm guessing gratitude.
This sets the tone for life! It will affect the direction of your thoughts and expectations. It will change your interaction with others. Defenses will drop as other people start to realize that you are aware of everything they offer, that you are grateful for their contribution, hard work, even their presence. And isn't that what the life of Christ in us is supposed to do? To revolutionize the way we do everything, including our interactions with others?
This is not just a soul issue, folks. This is something that touches your life trajectory.
When we grasp for what is not ours, we see only what we have been denied, only the depth of our deprivation.
BUT.
When we find something - one thing - for which we can sincerely thank God, more follow. It really is amazing how quickly they start to come to mind. Because, you see, they're there. You just need the eyes to see them. The eyes of a thankful person.
Be thankful even when - especially when - it costs you something, when it is difficult. What good is a gift that is worthless?
Make your thankfulness valuable by practicing it in the hard times. Start by thanking God for His valuable gift of salvation, and then let thankfulness be part of a daily dialogue between you and your Creator.
But don't let it stop there. Let it pour over into the rest of your life - your interactions with your spouse and boss and friends, your attitude toward possessions and schedules and stressors, your reaction to plans that are spoiled or hurts that others cause.
"And be thankful."
Don't just take my word for it.
Yesterday, I read in my devotions about the discipline of thanksgiving - giving thanks to God even in hard times - and the life-attitude thankfulness (or its lack) can create.
I think this all stands out so much to me right now because, this summer, I saw very plainly what ingratitude looks like.
Ingratitude can disguise itself as perfectionism or as high standards. At its most veiled, it parades as wanting the best for the group. But it misses the individual. It crushes and destroys in the name of cohesion and doing the best for the whole.
It is never satisfied with what is; it only sees what still needs to be.
It tramples brothers and sisters in its quest for more.
Even more, when we stop being thankful, we begin to reason away the conviction of sin. My devotions pointed out that Eve, back in Eden, was tempted when she was no longer thankful for what God had provided (an entire garden of good food and beauty, for Pete's sake!) and only saw the one thing that was forbidden. If thankfulness had filled her, her attitude would have been one that focused on all of God's gifts. Instead, she saw the desirability of what was not hers, coveted it, took it. She did not worry about the godly life because she no longer saw the kind providence of God.
How vital thankfulness must be to a Christian's walk!
The fact of the matter is, we always have something for which we can be thankful. Always.
1 John 1:7 "But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin." ESV
Focus on that.
You are cleansed of all sin!
You, a sinner?
Absolutely.
But cleansed.
Feel the depth of the desperation of your sin! Then realize what Christ - His very blood - did for you.
What do you feel? I'm guessing gratitude.
This sets the tone for life! It will affect the direction of your thoughts and expectations. It will change your interaction with others. Defenses will drop as other people start to realize that you are aware of everything they offer, that you are grateful for their contribution, hard work, even their presence. And isn't that what the life of Christ in us is supposed to do? To revolutionize the way we do everything, including our interactions with others?
This is not just a soul issue, folks. This is something that touches your life trajectory.
When we grasp for what is not ours, we see only what we have been denied, only the depth of our deprivation.
BUT.
When we find something - one thing - for which we can sincerely thank God, more follow. It really is amazing how quickly they start to come to mind. Because, you see, they're there. You just need the eyes to see them. The eyes of a thankful person.
Be thankful even when - especially when - it costs you something, when it is difficult. What good is a gift that is worthless?
Make your thankfulness valuable by practicing it in the hard times. Start by thanking God for His valuable gift of salvation, and then let thankfulness be part of a daily dialogue between you and your Creator.
But don't let it stop there. Let it pour over into the rest of your life - your interactions with your spouse and boss and friends, your attitude toward possessions and schedules and stressors, your reaction to plans that are spoiled or hurts that others cause.
"And be thankful."
Don't just take my word for it.
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