Sunday, April 17, 2011

Growth

I have glimpsed something today that I find hard to express in words and yet I must try because the truth of what I have realized is so seminal to my understanding of what it means to be a Christian. My knowledge lags far behind my experience and, often it seems, so do my words.

I fasted from red wine for seventy-three days. I fasted because I felt like I was making it into a idol. I am by no means an alcoholic, but I do like red wine. It is the only alcohol I drink and I truly enjoy it. So, why did I give it up? The short answer is above. The longer, and perhaps the more difficult answer, is that I lacked knowledge and therefore I lacked faith.

Why is it that as soon as one tries to approach God legalism gets such a strong grip? Why are we so gullible? So easily swayed by our feelings and what we should do than what God says? Brennan Manning calls this mask of trying to be virtuous and holy "the impostor." Maybe I was under the grip of such an impostor. Something about me constantly tries to earn God's favor while rejecting His grace.

I think that today I finally understood the reason for this. The reason is that I am spiritually weak. The reason for my spiritual weakness? I don't know the truth. And only the truth can set me free. Not how I feel, not what I think I should feel and not what I think I should do. There really is nothing I can do, besides walk in the path He has created for me. Recognizing that path requires freedom from shoulds and coulds and fear. Recognizing that path requires, in other words, a deep and abiding faith in God.

This faith can only come from a thorough knowledge of The Bible. So far, I have been satisfied with milk but my appetite has grown. Today I crave the meat of God's Word. Because only meat nourishes, only meat sustains; only meat truly satisfies. It ensures I will not go hungry or lacking. The truth is supposed to hold me steady, so I am not tossed around in currents of worldly philosophies - something I am especially vulnerable to, based on my past. And, as someone said to me today, the only thing worse than a shipwreck is to be tossed around forever aimlessly, not knowing which way one is going.

So, finally, I believe, I am ready. And I am hungry. And I know that I am growing.

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Finding a Voice



One of Jerry Seinfeld's greatest one-liners goes something like this: "The one thing people fear more than their own death is public speaking; which means that at a funeral, they would rather be in the casket than at the podium!" I was to give my testimony yesterday at our annual Tea and Treasures at MOPS. It was ten minutes of getting in front of seventy-five women and talking - okay, reading - what Jesus means to me and what He has done in my life since He became My Lord and Savior.

I could barely sleep the night before. Each time I woke up, I felt nerves and had trouble going back to sleep. It helped to know that everyone goes through this, even a "mentor mom" in our MOPS group I look up to and other women who had given their testimonies the year before. But I was still nervous and shaky. Each time I thought about getting up there to face the crowd, looking into their eyes while talking, I inwardly shuddered. No exaggeration.

On the day of Tea and Treasures, I remember the co-ordinator introducing me and me shuffling over to the front, taking my position in front of the microphone a bundle of nerves. My hands were shivering, I didn't trust my voice to carry me through ten minutes in front of a group. Ten minutes can be an excruciatingly long time when all eyes are on you. I would know. I had tried to give a real estate presentation before in front of a much smaller group and had fallen flat on my face. Metaphorically, of course, but still. Now, I tested the microphone, asked if it was too loud, took a long breath, even said something about my heart beating. Duh. Of course, my heart was beating - I was alive! What I meant was my heart was beating so fast! That should tell you something about my overall state.

I began to talk and that was when everything changed. Everything. An unearthly calm came over me. I paused - at the end of sentences as I had been advised to do, and looked at the audience. I was in no hurry to get done. I didn't need to even look down to read some sentences. I even - gasp!- enjoyed myself, sharing my love for The Lord, revealing things about my life that had previously been stowed away in the dark, hidden in corners of conversations only accessible to a few. I allowed the Lord access into them and He shined through. He shined through me.

I had read somewhere that He equips the called, but had never before experienced it in such a real and powerful way. He truly does. He is helping me find my voice. I can't wait to do it again!

Friday, April 8, 2011

The Weight of a Gift

Last evening, I saw a true show of extravagant, crazy love. It wasn't new and it wasn't earth-shattering. But it may have been the very first time I truly saw it.

I had been grumbling for a while now that there is not single thing in the house that is my own. Nothing that personally belongs to me and me alone. This desire strikes me as extremely selfish and yet extremely urgent at the same time. I rush to explain it. The thing I own wouldn't define me, I say. I make excuses, searching in the deepest recesses of my emotions for the reason for this unwelcome desire that seems to consume me.

Well, I cannot complain any more. My husband bought me a notebook computer - one bigger, faster, better than I wanted. One that slightly embarrasses me and slightly scares me because of the money we spent on it. One that, if I had been working, I would have struggled to pay him back for. Except, I don't work. And I have no way of paying for this laptop I didn't deserve but so graciously accepted. I didn't need it, per se. It was a gift, in the purest sense of the word.

I always thought people who said they didn't deserve things they received were lying, that their humility was false. Yesterday, I rethought that idea. Yesterday, as I went through the emotions of trying to reconcile receiving this gift - defined by dictionaries as something bestowed or acquired with no effort on the part of the recipient to earn it - with somehow paying for it or even deserving it, I realized: I don't think I had ever felt this way before. Ever. In my entire life.

The converse of this ugliness is that after receiving a gift such as this one, I still feel like I have to earn it, make up for it in some way, so that the scales are balanced on some cosmic level known only to me. I never thought I would be one who had a hard time accepting love, that I was one who feels she must earn it. But I am.

Psalm 103 comes to mind. It says God has crowned us with lovingkindness and tender mercies. I thought I understood it, but I guess I don't really. For all my entitlement, I suppose I am still lacking in understanding the true depth of God's love, a small measure of which I saw through my husband's lavish spending on me yesterday.

Perhaps that's why the world has trouble understanding the gospel of Jesus Christ. Sometimes the weight of a gift is just a little more than we can bear to understand.

Sunday, April 3, 2011

Self-pity, anyone?

My Macbook is broken and needs to be fixed. It's going to cost $280. You would think my world is coming to an end.

What is it in me that marches in lock step with the demon of self-pity?

I told my husband, "At least I'm aware of it and I'm aware that these feelings I have are not real." He says, "So a homocidal maniac knows he's a homocidal maniac. Hmm." Wish I thought that was funny. But at least it's honest. Argh.

I have spent much of the day going back and forth about keeping the old one for watching Hulu and Netflix (it works when attached to an external screen because it works fine but the backlight is out so you can't see the screen.) and buying one for my own personal use or just getting it fixed and keeping things as they are. My impulsive decisions in the past have usually been mistakes and so I want to wait to decide either way. I have prayed and failed to control my thoughts, prayed and failed. Over and over and over.

The answer I have received is to wait. If only it wasn't so hard.

At least I remembered to pray first.

For tonight, I think, that little change is going to have to be enough.