A family friend passed away today. As I watch the out-pouring of loving comments on her Facebook wall, I am glad that people remember the good about others.
I am also pensive.
Find the good in others while they're still living; don't wait for them to be beyond this world before you stop criticizing and start complimenting.
Tell people that you're grateful for them while they're living. Appreciate them and thank them for their contribution to your life while they are around to be encouraged by your words.
Be kind in your speech to and about others while they're living. If something isn't good enough to say about them once they're dead, it's not good enough to say about them before they're dead.
It is the living who need your encouragement: it is for the benefit of the surviving that we pour out love for those who have gone before us.
Yes, remember the deceased fondly; but remember that nothing you say or do can help or hurt them.
Do you want to make a difference? Don't forget the living to your left and to your right.
Friday, April 11, 2014
Monday, April 7, 2014
Things I'm Old Enough to Remember
Okay, I'm not that old. But lately, working with our youth group or volunteering for summer camp, I've noticed that I'll reference something that I at least thought was well known and receive blank stares in place of recognition. Do you know why? There's a generation gap. I am not old, but I have finally crossed that invisible bridge from the youngest generation. So, in honor of that achievement, this post is all about
Things I'm Old Enough to Remember.
Things I'm Old Enough to Remember.
- When gas was 98 cents per gallon
- When Saturday morning cartoons included Winnie the Pooh
- When there was nothing after the credits - or even, when the credits were in the beginning and there weren't even credits after the story
- The sticker, "Be Kind, Rewind!"
- Steve Green
- Stirrup pants
- When blue M&M's began to be produced
- The Pipestone library with Mrs. Griebel in the children's room and Mrs. Wahl behind the front desk
- The gel pen craze
- Beanie babies
- Going places without a cell phone in case of emergencies
- Pen pals
- Tightening cassette tapes with a pencil
- Pong
- Pushing a lawn mower
- When owning a refrigerator box made you richer than ever before as a child
- When a sheet + chairs = a tent
- Oregon Trail II
- The Saturday morning tv jingle, "After these messages we'll be right back!"
- Sandi Patty
- Purple sweat pants and white Reeboks
- Coloring with crayons
- Homemade play dough
- Paper doll cutting parties
- Radio dramas
- Airports pre-NSA
- Strawberry kiwi Lip Smackers
Friday, March 21, 2014
Don't Go Away
Note: This is not going to be a post about my views of homosexuality
or of the American homosexual movement (which are not one and the same,
by the way). This is neither an appropriate or wise platform for such a
discussion. If you want to know my views, let's discuss it in person, preferably over coffee. :)
Why is it that it seems like people come out and then leave?
I've been noticing a trend: a friend comes out, and then I never/rarely hear from them again.
Not that we were necessarily close in the first place, but if this is supposed to be so natural a lifestyle, why does it interfere with something so natural as friendship?
Maybe they think I hate them now. I wouldn't want to chat with someone who hates me. But I've only ever been called hateful once (and the really awkward part is that she doesn't know me). No one whom I consider among my circle of friends - or even acquaintances - has ever called me hateful. So I don't think that's it.
Is this just the way things are? Am I going to have to watch friends come out one by one and wave goodbye?
Sure, they have a different lifestyle now, a different ideology. But friends don't have to agree on everything. I can understand that this would create some distance, or at least a different dynamic than before. But is it really necessary to disappear?
Sure, they probably have some new friends from the homosexual community. But I got new friends went I went to college and I still managed to keep my friends back home.
You know, there is so much pain surrounding the choice to come out: life before the decision, factors that prompt the decision, the fall-out after following through on the decision, or all three. My heart hurts with them.
So why add the pain of leaving?
Why is it that it seems like people come out and then leave?
I've been noticing a trend: a friend comes out, and then I never/rarely hear from them again.
Not that we were necessarily close in the first place, but if this is supposed to be so natural a lifestyle, why does it interfere with something so natural as friendship?
Maybe they think I hate them now. I wouldn't want to chat with someone who hates me. But I've only ever been called hateful once (and the really awkward part is that she doesn't know me). No one whom I consider among my circle of friends - or even acquaintances - has ever called me hateful. So I don't think that's it.
Is this just the way things are? Am I going to have to watch friends come out one by one and wave goodbye?
Sure, they have a different lifestyle now, a different ideology. But friends don't have to agree on everything. I can understand that this would create some distance, or at least a different dynamic than before. But is it really necessary to disappear?
Sure, they probably have some new friends from the homosexual community. But I got new friends went I went to college and I still managed to keep my friends back home.
You know, there is so much pain surrounding the choice to come out: life before the decision, factors that prompt the decision, the fall-out after following through on the decision, or all three. My heart hurts with them.
So why add the pain of leaving?
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
A Man Called Daniel
A few weeks back, I happened upon the book of Daniel and started reading through Daniel 6, the story of Daniel in the lions' den. Now, I doubt that anyone who spent any time in Sunday school could have escaped the experience without becoming terribly familiar with the story. Yet, (surprise, surprise) the child's version of the story leaves out a lot, a lot of good stuff, a lot of stuff that I was reminded of as I read through it.
So, in case you haven't revisited the story in a while, I thought I would share the experience with you. Below, you will find Daniel 6 from the ESV, with my thoughts thrown in in blue. Enjoy!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
So, in case you haven't revisited the story in a while, I thought I would share the experience with you. Below, you will find Daniel 6 from the ESV, with my thoughts thrown in in blue. Enjoy!
------------------------------------------------------------------------
It pleased Darius to set over the kingdom 120 satraps, to be
throughout the whole kingdom; Darius had just taken over the kingdom at the end of the last chapter. Being a decently smart chap, he seems to keep some of the same officials, the guys who know what's going on and how things work. If you read the story in chapter 5, you'll see how Daniel had been newly promoted to third in command and so was perfectly poised to be in leadership under Darius. What a coincidence! Almost like someone planned it!
2 and over them three high
officials, of whom Daniel was one, to whom these satraps should give account,
so that the king might suffer no loss. The whole point of these three was to make sure the king got his due. 120 satraps are a lot to keep track of, but 3 presidents are more manageable.
3 Then this Daniel
became distinguished above all the other high officials and satraps, because an
excellent spirit was in him. I would like an excellent spirit. Wouldn't you?
And the king planned to set him over the whole
kingdom. 4 Then the high officials and the satraps sought to
find a ground for complaint against Daniel with regard to the kingdom, but they
could find no ground for complaint or any fault, because he was faithful, and
no error or fault was found in him. Wow! No complaint, no fault, no error. He was faithful. That should be every Christian in the workforce.
5 Then these men said, “We
shall not find any ground for complaint against this Daniel unless we find it
in connection with the law of his God.” I find this so neat, that these guys had seen enough of Daniel and that Daniel was transparent enough that they knew that they weren't going to get this guy unless they could make up something that would go against his faith. His faith wasn't inherently bad for them, they just knew that he would choose his God over any other rule. But he wasn't belligerent or antagonistic about it; no one could complain about anything about him. Now that's a testimony.
6 Then these high officials and satraps came
by agreement - the footnote here says they "came thronging." Talk about the pressure of the group on the individual.
to the king and said to him, “O King
Darius, live forever! 7 All "all?"
the high officials of the kingdom,
the prefects and the satraps, the counselors and the governors are agreed that
the king should establish an ordinance and enforce an injunction, that whoever
makes petition to any god or man for thirty days, except to you, O king, shall
be cast into the den of lions. 8 Now, O king, establish the
injunction and sign the document, so that it cannot be changed, according to
the law of the Medes and the Persians, which cannot be revoked.” 9 Therefore
King Darius signed the document and injunction. Ok, I thought Darius was a decently smart chap. Did he not see Daniel was missing? Or did he assume these guys spoke for Daniel too? Or did he just completely forget about his favorite amid the overwhelming flattery of all these people standing before him?
10 When Daniel knew that the document had
been signed, I am so excited the Bible includes that phrase! Daniel knew the document had been signed. He was a politician. He understand exactly what was on the line. I can imagine that if that phrase wasn't included, we would be able to excuse the heroism that comes next. After all, if he wasn't informed, maybe he responded differently than he would have if he knew the danger. Don't we love to diminish others' faithful actions?
he went to his house where he had windows in his upper chamber
open toward Jerusalem. He got down on his knees three times a day and prayed
and gave thanks before his God, as he had done previously. No change. Just as he had done previously. He didn't even keep the windows shut for his own safety. Wow.
11 Then
these men came by agreement and found Daniel making petition and plea before
his God. 12 Then they came near and said before the king,
concerning the injunction, “O king! Did you not sign an injunction, that anyone
who makes petition to any god or man within thirty days except to you, O king,
shall be cast into the den of lions?” The king answered and said, “The thing
stands fast, according to the law of the Medes and Persians, which cannot be
revoked.” 13 Then they answered and said before the king,
“Daniel, who is one of the exiles from Judah, Notice they don't bother to say "who is one of the three presidents, your favorite one, in fact." Oh, no. He's just one of those pesky exiles from Judah.
pays no attention to you, O king,
or the injunction you have signed, but makes his petition three times a day.”
14 Then the king, when he heard these words,
was much distressed and set his mind to deliver Daniel. And he labored till the
sun went down to rescue him. 15 Then these men came by
agreement to the king and said to the king, “Know, O king, that it is a law of
the Medes and Persians that no injunction or ordinance that the king
establishes can be changed.”
16 Then the king commanded, and Daniel was
brought and cast into the den of lions. The king declared to Daniel, “May your God, whom you serve
continually, deliver you!” Even the king knew enough about Daniel's relationship with his God that he could have some sort of hopeful glimmer before sending him to his certain death. Certain, that is, by human reckoning.
17 And a stone was brought and laid
on the mouth of the den, and the king sealed it with his own signet and with
the signet of his lords, that nothing might be changed concerning Daniel. 18 Then
the king went to his palace and spent the night fasting; no diversions were
brought to him, and sleep fled from him.
19 Then, at break of day, the king arose and
went in haste to the den of lions. 20 As he came near to the
den where Daniel was, he cried out in a tone of anguish. The king declared to
Daniel, “O Daniel, servant of the living God, has your God, whom you serve
continually, been able to deliver you from the lions?” "Is He able?" Don't we all ask that question when things get rough? "Oh, God, I know you're big, but maybe you're not this big! Are you big enough to handle this problem of mine?" Silly child. How God must smile and shake His head at us. "Don't you remember what I did for David and for Daniel and for Ruth and for Moses and . . ."
21 Then
Daniel said to the king, “O king, live forever! He's not bitter. He's still not belligerent. He's still faithful to the king.
22 My God sent
his angel and shut the lions' mouths, and they have not harmed me, because I
was found blameless before him; and also before you, O king, I have done no
harm.” Is Daniel reminding the king that he has only ever done good for the king and the kingdom? Is he simply stating why he was saved? Either way, he was right.
23 Then the king was exceedingly glad, I bet.
and commanded
that Daniel be taken up out of the den. So Daniel was taken up out of the den,
and no kind of harm was found on him, Whoa, "no kind of harm"? Do you know how many years of therapy would be expected to be needed in our day and age? "No kind of harm." Not only did he not have a scratch on him, he was mentally whole, not a nervous wreck from a night with the nasty, hungry lions. How is that even possible? Read on:
because he had trusted in his God. Can you please take a minute to let that sink in? He didn't have so much as a nervous twitch from the whole experience. Why? "Because he had trusted in His God." May your God be the God of Daniel, the one who protects body and mind from lions. May you see your personal lions through the eyes of trust.
24 And
the king commanded, and those men who had maliciously accused Daniel were
brought and cast into the den of lions—they, their children, and their wives.
And before they reached the bottom of the den, the lions overpowered them and
broke all their bones in pieces.
25 Then King Darius wrote to all the peoples,
nations, and languages that dwell in all the earth: “Peace be multiplied to
you. 26 I make a decree, that in all my royal dominion people
are to tremble and fear before the God of Daniel,
for he is the living God,
enduring forever;
his kingdom shall never be destroyed,
and his dominion shall be to the end.
27 He delivers and rescues;
he works signs and wonders
in heaven and on earth,
he who has saved Daniel
from the power of the lions.” How beautiful is that? What a fitting ending. Even better than "happily ever after." But we have that too if you really need it:
enduring forever;
his kingdom shall never be destroyed,
and his dominion shall be to the end.
27 He delivers and rescues;
he works signs and wonders
in heaven and on earth,
he who has saved Daniel
from the power of the lions.” How beautiful is that? What a fitting ending. Even better than "happily ever after." But we have that too if you really need it:
28 So this Daniel prospered during the reign
of Darius and the reign of Cyrus the Persian.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
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).
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).
Friday, February 14, 2014
I Love/Want You
Happy Valentine's Day!
Today never held much significance for me as a single (other than the yummy chocolates from Mom and Dad!), but it is becoming dearer. Today was my first Valentine's waking up in my husband's arms, and I'll tell you, it starts to take on a new significance. I start to get more mushy about the concept. I also start to get more defensive about it, too.
You see, our good old US of A has a way of slanting things, and it hasn't left this holiday alone any more than it's kept its fingers out of Christmas.
It's taken an economic concept and applied it to love.
I'm not going to start going on about how it's all for the greeting cards companies and so on and so forth. That's on the right track, but it doesn't go far enough and so ends up at a conclusive facade.
American love is consumeristic.
We use the word "love" in a manner that more honest people have the dignity to admit is only "want."
Sadly, this version of love does not stop at consuming bouquets and teddy bears and chocolates and cards: it consumes people.
Think about it.
"I love rice."
What I really mean is that I just had rice for lunch and was reminded how much I want to eat rice.
I love inexpensive household goods. Never mind the sweatshop laborers.
I love getting to plan my life. Never mind my children (born or otherwise).
I (conversely) love my children. Never mind my friends, marriages, or monetary limitations.
I love you. . . .
Eep.
Creepy.
Do we really mean love? Or are we thinking more along the lines of the t-shirt for sale in the mall, which reads, "Looking for a meaningful overnight relationship"?
Because we all know what that means. They're looking for a "meaningful overnight relationship."
We use another person's body and think we're doing them a favor because we're not asking them to share their soul. We avoid the messiness of getting personal and think we can get away with it.
News flash: the body and the soul (consciousness) are so intertwined that no theologian or psychologist can tell you where one ends and the other begins. Why? Because God didn't make you half body and half soul - He made you all body and all soul! He never meant for the two to be separate! (Death wasn't part of the original design. But that's a topic for another time.)
And we scoff at the ones who hold out for more than a one-night stand.
Or we don the other t-shirt, the one that blurts, "Cool story, babe. Now go make me a sandwich." Because love is about what you get, right?
Don't tell me that the attitude of the second t-shirt must be love just because it sticks around. While the first consumes, so does the second. One is more like a hit and run. The second is just a slower, more drawn out version, sort of like bleeding to death on the sidewalk. Girls (or guys), if you are treated like a commodity, don't think it's because he loves you. He isn't showing you love; he's showing you bondage.
He can say, "I love you," but does he mean it?
How can you tell? Look at what he does with/to you.
1 Corinthians 13 puts love on a level with faith and hope.
Faith: shown by deeds. Considered illegitimate without the proof of action. Worth nothing unless it makes a substantive difference.
Hope: a powerful force that has no chemical explanation. Kept people alive in concentration camps. Its lack can itself cause disease or even death.
What is love? It definitely can't be summed up by a hormonal rush or a physiological arousal response. It isn't a direction or a place (so you can't fall into or out of it).
When I was learning to love, I was concerned because I didn't know exactly what love was, so I didn't know how to tell if I was actually in love. Silly girl! I was thinking that it was a state rather than an action, a reflexive response rather than a choice.
Mental clarity descended in that loftiest of places - the grocery store aisle - in that loftiest of positions - a grocery store clerk.
As I straightened the candy in Aisle 1, I contemplated the day's joys that I couldn't wait to share over the phone that night. I thought about the disappointments that I always rushed to him before any other human comfort. And I realized that we had love.
We weren't starting with a flimsy platform of feel-good sentiment. We were building something from the ground up while deep in the mire of the every day tumult.
We were creating a relationship that could survive real life because it wasn't based on a fairy tale of feelings.
We were choosing to share ourselves and care for the other. Why? Not because we could get something out of it, but because we wanted to give to the other person.
Love gives; it doesn't take.
That's the difference.
It's a heart issue.
And it makes all the difference.
Today never held much significance for me as a single (other than the yummy chocolates from Mom and Dad!), but it is becoming dearer. Today was my first Valentine's waking up in my husband's arms, and I'll tell you, it starts to take on a new significance. I start to get more mushy about the concept. I also start to get more defensive about it, too.
You see, our good old US of A has a way of slanting things, and it hasn't left this holiday alone any more than it's kept its fingers out of Christmas.
It's taken an economic concept and applied it to love.
I'm not going to start going on about how it's all for the greeting cards companies and so on and so forth. That's on the right track, but it doesn't go far enough and so ends up at a conclusive facade.
American love is consumeristic.
We use the word "love" in a manner that more honest people have the dignity to admit is only "want."
Sadly, this version of love does not stop at consuming bouquets and teddy bears and chocolates and cards: it consumes people.
Think about it.
"I love rice."
What I really mean is that I just had rice for lunch and was reminded how much I want to eat rice.
I love inexpensive household goods. Never mind the sweatshop laborers.
I love getting to plan my life. Never mind my children (born or otherwise).
I (conversely) love my children. Never mind my friends, marriages, or monetary limitations.
I love you. . . .
Eep.
Creepy.
Do we really mean love? Or are we thinking more along the lines of the t-shirt for sale in the mall, which reads, "Looking for a meaningful overnight relationship"?
Because we all know what that means. They're looking for a "
We use another person's body and think we're doing them a favor because we're not asking them to share their soul. We avoid the messiness of getting personal and think we can get away with it.
News flash: the body and the soul (consciousness) are so intertwined that no theologian or psychologist can tell you where one ends and the other begins. Why? Because God didn't make you half body and half soul - He made you all body and all soul! He never meant for the two to be separate! (Death wasn't part of the original design. But that's a topic for another time.)
And we scoff at the ones who hold out for more than a one-night stand.
Or we don the other t-shirt, the one that blurts, "Cool story, babe. Now go make me a sandwich." Because love is about what you get, right?
Don't tell me that the attitude of the second t-shirt must be love just because it sticks around. While the first consumes, so does the second. One is more like a hit and run. The second is just a slower, more drawn out version, sort of like bleeding to death on the sidewalk. Girls (or guys), if you are treated like a commodity, don't think it's because he loves you. He isn't showing you love; he's showing you bondage.
He can say, "I love you," but does he mean it?
How can you tell? Look at what he does with/to you.
1 Corinthians 13 puts love on a level with faith and hope.
Faith: shown by deeds. Considered illegitimate without the proof of action. Worth nothing unless it makes a substantive difference.
Hope: a powerful force that has no chemical explanation. Kept people alive in concentration camps. Its lack can itself cause disease or even death.
What is love? It definitely can't be summed up by a hormonal rush or a physiological arousal response. It isn't a direction or a place (so you can't fall into or out of it).
When I was learning to love, I was concerned because I didn't know exactly what love was, so I didn't know how to tell if I was actually in love. Silly girl! I was thinking that it was a state rather than an action, a reflexive response rather than a choice.
Mental clarity descended in that loftiest of places - the grocery store aisle - in that loftiest of positions - a grocery store clerk.
As I straightened the candy in Aisle 1, I contemplated the day's joys that I couldn't wait to share over the phone that night. I thought about the disappointments that I always rushed to him before any other human comfort. And I realized that we had love.
We weren't starting with a flimsy platform of feel-good sentiment. We were building something from the ground up while deep in the mire of the every day tumult.
We were creating a relationship that could survive real life because it wasn't based on a fairy tale of feelings.
We were choosing to share ourselves and care for the other. Why? Not because we could get something out of it, but because we wanted to give to the other person.
Love gives; it doesn't take.
That's the difference.
It's a heart issue.
And it makes all the difference.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Finding Freedom While Working Out
The trainer on today's exercise video said something profound. "It isn't just about the outside."
Now, I don't know her views on faith or the soul, but, hearing these words at the close of an intense workout, I took note.
Have you ever noticed that when you lose control in a particular area of your life, if you stop and look, you will notice little bits of compromises in a host of other areas?
Let's just say, as a hypothetical example, that a person loses control in the area of weight, food, and body image. Look around. I bet you can find similar compromises elsewhere: shortcuts at work, skimping on personal devotions, rote prayers, perfunctory interactions with others, procrastination in chores . . . the list could (hypothetically) go on for a long time.
What's wrong? Is the issue really weight gain?
I'm betting not.
I once read a book which talked about addiction as a "disordered worship." Anything which consumes our thoughts, our emotions, our waking hours, our energies, our resources, may easily morph into an addiction.
Addictions are serious business for anyone. We have a lot of centers in this country where a person can spend a lot of money to get rid of one. How do they do this?
Well, really, they don't. They just redirect that addiction toward a more culturally-acceptable end. You see, they've found that a void will never cure an addict. You can't just take away the substance; you have to replace it.
I believe strongly that Christians are poised to understand addictions more clearly than any secularist ever will. What is it about a person that allows them to "go off the deep end" about anything and prohibits them from ever finding a conservative center?
Worship.
Addiction is a disorder of worship.
God made us to worship Him, to revel in a relationship with Him that fills and satisfies as nothing else ever could. Do you get pleasure in food? Good. Thank Him for it, and realize it is only an hors d'oeuvre of the pleasure found in God. Do you find joy in exercise? Good. Revel in it and allow it to remind you of the abilities He has given you to mirror Him.
This is, I believe, why a loss of self-control in one area ricochets around a person's whole life. When we lose sight of the "why" and the "for" (both of which are found in our Lord), everything gets out of balance.
Which brings me back to the words of the trainer: "It isn't just about the outside."
Yes, I want to feel better by being in shape. But it isn't just the crunch or the sore muscles or the ability to reduce my waistline by a notch in my belt. It's about taking myself and my desires back in hand and offering them once again to the One who gave them.
I could swing from worshiping food to worshiping exercise. I could switch allegiances from eating what sounds good to eating only what will make me slim. But if I do, I'm not actually gaining anything. I'm just moving from one idol to another, and it would only be a matter of time before the second rings as false as the first.
Galatians reminds us, "It is for freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery."
Slavery can take many forms, folks.
It can be a slavery to the appetite (whether that appetite is of the gut, of the eyes, of the flesh, etc.); it can also be a slavery to control.
I've had to learn that I don't have to live under a yoke of slavery to the appetite. Really. I don't have to. (Have you ever thought of a fast as an exercise of freedom?)
But, on the other hand, I have to remember that I haven't been set free from my appetites in order to be bound to a life of self-flagellation. God made food, and He made it good! If I forget that and get so caught up in my weight-loss goal that it gets in the way of the joy of God and of life and of others, I haven't actually gained anything but another false master.
Of course, there's the danger that I take my freedom flippantly and distort it into permission to do whatever I want. Galatians talks about that too. The thing is, that isn't really freedom. That's running back into the arms of my appetites and calling them freedom. It doesn't matter what I call them; they will still be my master. Where there is a master, there must be a slave.
So, what to do?
Realize that the only master who will not enslave us is the One who calls us his sons and daughters.
Then, I can fast or feast, and it will all be for the purpose of His joy living in me.
Now that's freedom, folks.
Now, I don't know her views on faith or the soul, but, hearing these words at the close of an intense workout, I took note.
Have you ever noticed that when you lose control in a particular area of your life, if you stop and look, you will notice little bits of compromises in a host of other areas?
Let's just say, as a hypothetical example, that a person loses control in the area of weight, food, and body image. Look around. I bet you can find similar compromises elsewhere: shortcuts at work, skimping on personal devotions, rote prayers, perfunctory interactions with others, procrastination in chores . . . the list could (hypothetically) go on for a long time.
What's wrong? Is the issue really weight gain?
I'm betting not.
I once read a book which talked about addiction as a "disordered worship." Anything which consumes our thoughts, our emotions, our waking hours, our energies, our resources, may easily morph into an addiction.
Addictions are serious business for anyone. We have a lot of centers in this country where a person can spend a lot of money to get rid of one. How do they do this?
Well, really, they don't. They just redirect that addiction toward a more culturally-acceptable end. You see, they've found that a void will never cure an addict. You can't just take away the substance; you have to replace it.
I believe strongly that Christians are poised to understand addictions more clearly than any secularist ever will. What is it about a person that allows them to "go off the deep end" about anything and prohibits them from ever finding a conservative center?
Worship.
Addiction is a disorder of worship.
God made us to worship Him, to revel in a relationship with Him that fills and satisfies as nothing else ever could. Do you get pleasure in food? Good. Thank Him for it, and realize it is only an hors d'oeuvre of the pleasure found in God. Do you find joy in exercise? Good. Revel in it and allow it to remind you of the abilities He has given you to mirror Him.
This is, I believe, why a loss of self-control in one area ricochets around a person's whole life. When we lose sight of the "why" and the "for" (both of which are found in our Lord), everything gets out of balance.
Which brings me back to the words of the trainer: "It isn't just about the outside."
Yes, I want to feel better by being in shape. But it isn't just the crunch or the sore muscles or the ability to reduce my waistline by a notch in my belt. It's about taking myself and my desires back in hand and offering them once again to the One who gave them.
I could swing from worshiping food to worshiping exercise. I could switch allegiances from eating what sounds good to eating only what will make me slim. But if I do, I'm not actually gaining anything. I'm just moving from one idol to another, and it would only be a matter of time before the second rings as false as the first.
Galatians reminds us, "It is for freedom Christ has set us free. Stand firm, therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery."
Slavery can take many forms, folks.
It can be a slavery to the appetite (whether that appetite is of the gut, of the eyes, of the flesh, etc.); it can also be a slavery to control.
I've had to learn that I don't have to live under a yoke of slavery to the appetite. Really. I don't have to. (Have you ever thought of a fast as an exercise of freedom?)
But, on the other hand, I have to remember that I haven't been set free from my appetites in order to be bound to a life of self-flagellation. God made food, and He made it good! If I forget that and get so caught up in my weight-loss goal that it gets in the way of the joy of God and of life and of others, I haven't actually gained anything but another false master.
Of course, there's the danger that I take my freedom flippantly and distort it into permission to do whatever I want. Galatians talks about that too. The thing is, that isn't really freedom. That's running back into the arms of my appetites and calling them freedom. It doesn't matter what I call them; they will still be my master. Where there is a master, there must be a slave.
So, what to do?
Realize that the only master who will not enslave us is the One who calls us his sons and daughters.
Then, I can fast or feast, and it will all be for the purpose of His joy living in me.
Now that's freedom, folks.
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