Someone shared this with me recently and it has changed my relationship with God for the better so I thought I’d do my best to share it accurately here.
We all know about the fruit of Spirit: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control. There are fruits, however that are not of the Holy Spirit. In Genesis 3, the story of when woman and man first agreed with the Deceiver, you can find the fruit of their agreement in their actions. They were ashamed, they were afraid, they hid from God, and they blamed anyone available.
None of those four things, shame, fear, blame or hiding, come from knowing and trusting the Truth. In fact, these things are directly opposed to God’s plans for us. So, when we experience any of these things working in us we know that we have believed a lie and that the Truth as well as release from these things is available to us.
This was especially important to me because I have felt for a while that afraid and hiding presence of God, ashamed of myself in front of him. I knew that this was related to all the lies I had been taught growing up in the name of God. I was taught that he was disappointed and grieved by me and that if I came into his presence he would condemn me.
I knew that these were lies, but I didn’t know how to separate them from God in my mind. I knew that God wasn’t like that but I didn’t know how to stop reacting to him as though he was exactly like that. I was afraid of hearing his voice because I had heard so many lies from what I thought was his voice in the past.
I blamed him for all this too. How could I trust him now when I thought I was trusting him then? I accused him of not protecting me and I couldn’t see any way around these thoughts since they were based on the truth of my experience.
I was asked whether these questions, thoughts, and blame directed at God were producing the fruit of the Spirit or the fruit of deception in me. Well, no question there, they were making me miserable. But I didn’t understand! They weren’t lies, they were relevant questions based on my own life!
Then God gave me a picture/story/idea. You know how in many stories there is an unlikely hero who is more or less guided by a wise, slightly mysterious figure. Think Bilbo and Gandalf or Frodo and Gandalf or Harry Potter and Dumbledore. The hero trusts his guide until some point in the story when the guide is suddenly absent in his time of need.
Then the questions come; sometimes from the hero’s own thoughts sometimes from someone else. I don’t have the books to reference but I seem to remember that Aberforth (Dumbledore’s brother) asks Harry exactly how much he knew about Professor Dumbledore and implies that he might not be entirely trustworthy. Or with Gandalf I mostly remember how he was accused by Wormtongue and Denethor.
The point is that as the reader of the story you know the hero shouldn’t be doubting the guide. You’re reading it thinking, “Don’t fall for that! I know it’s basically reasonable but you really can trust him just like you thought you could!” I assume if you were the hero of the story then it isn’t quite so obvious.
So God spoke to me in this way telling me that my questions were real and valid. They were based on my real experiences. But the Accuser doesn’t only accuse humans, he accuses God as well and these questions, real though they were, came from the Enemy not me.
This made all the difference to me. If they came from me then I couldn’t go on with God until they were satisfactorily answered. But if they came from the Enemy then why would I even give him the satisfaction of having me question God with them? Why would I do even a reasonable thing from his suggestion? I trust God because I know him, not because the Enemy can’t come up with a good sounding reason not to.
Suddenly, I let go of the questions and accusations that I was using as a barrier between God and I. I admit I am still curious, since God said they were valid questions, if he will choose to answer them one day. Ironically, since I was using them as a barrier between us, I don’t think I was actually willing or capable of actually hearing the answers.
I am not at all saying that it is wrong to question God. He can absolutely handle your questions and will often answer them. I’m not saying it’s wrong to be honest with God, he will definitely not be offended. I’m not even saying it’s wrong to rail at God for a while. What I am saying is that if your thoughts toward or about God are making you miserable and creating a barrier between you, you don’t have to let them.
If your thoughts are causing you shame, fear, blame or the desire to hide from God then realize they are lies and you don’t have to agree with them or put up with them no matter how reasonable or logical they sound.
There is also a difference between the facts of a matter and the Truth. The facts of the matter are that virgins don’t ever get pregnant. But the Truth is, one did once. The facts for me were that I was abused in God’s name and didn‘t know how he could be trustworthy. But the truth is that I do trust him and he is trustworthy.
I am not sure that I explained this well since I was trying to keep it reasonably short. If it brings up any questions please ask me.
Showing posts with label Questions. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Questions. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Monday, March 5, 2012
Lies Meet the Truth Part 2, What the Truth Did
The Truth is not a collection of ideas. It is far too big to simply pass through my mind or to be tainted by lies. I’ve been trying to make it in the image of the lies I’ve known. But a lie isn’t the opposite of Truth any more than a cat is the opposite of a dog. They are different breeds entirely.
Just as I’ve tried to shove the lies out; I’ve tried to drag the truth in. It doesn’t work. It’s like trying to push water aside; it will make you move, but you’ll never move it.
No, the Truth is not a collection of beliefs or the opposite of lies. He is a person; He is love embodied.
I wake in a clean bed, in a cool room. Calm, but a bit confused. Where am I? Wasn’t I in my filthy house overrun by disgusting lies? Wasn’t I cowering in a corner helpless, wounded, afraid and angry? Where am I?
I slowly realize. Reality begins to separate from dream. Because it was a dream. I mean, it wasn’t all a dream. No, I really lived through it, I see the scars on myself as proof. The lies were real and so was the pain. But so was the Hero. He did come for me, and He took me away immediately. I was safe the moment He was there. The lies never touched me after He arrived.
I had been delirious. I couldn’t tell the difference between today, yesterday, and tomorrow. I didn’t know that the pain I was feeling was no longer from abuse, but from painful wounds being healed. I knew that He had come but I didn’t remember Him taking me away. I knew that He promised to save me, promised I would always be safe, but in my feverish tossing as He cared for me, I didn’t know that He was still here.
But He was. He is.
I am still weak. Still content to lay in bed and try to get used to these new surroundings. I’m still trying to think through what has happened to me. A lot has happened. But I’m awake. I know the difference between yesterday, today, and tomorrow. I’m sane again. The past is gone, and so are the continual nightmares of it. Tonight, when I go to bed, there is no guarantee that I won’t have bad dreams. But dreams will stay dreams, and no longer masquerade as reality.
I am scarcely involved in, much less responsible for my own healing. Unless you count accepting rest and care. Unless you count accepting Him. I’ll lie here, with nothing to do but watch the Healer as He cares for me. Nothing to do but consider the fact that He must, actually, love me.
Just as I’ve tried to shove the lies out; I’ve tried to drag the truth in. It doesn’t work. It’s like trying to push water aside; it will make you move, but you’ll never move it.
No, the Truth is not a collection of beliefs or the opposite of lies. He is a person; He is love embodied.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
I wake in a clean bed, in a cool room. Calm, but a bit confused. Where am I? Wasn’t I in my filthy house overrun by disgusting lies? Wasn’t I cowering in a corner helpless, wounded, afraid and angry? Where am I?
I slowly realize. Reality begins to separate from dream. Because it was a dream. I mean, it wasn’t all a dream. No, I really lived through it, I see the scars on myself as proof. The lies were real and so was the pain. But so was the Hero. He did come for me, and He took me away immediately. I was safe the moment He was there. The lies never touched me after He arrived.
I had been delirious. I couldn’t tell the difference between today, yesterday, and tomorrow. I didn’t know that the pain I was feeling was no longer from abuse, but from painful wounds being healed. I knew that He had come but I didn’t remember Him taking me away. I knew that He promised to save me, promised I would always be safe, but in my feverish tossing as He cared for me, I didn’t know that He was still here.
But He was. He is.
I am still weak. Still content to lay in bed and try to get used to these new surroundings. I’m still trying to think through what has happened to me. A lot has happened. But I’m awake. I know the difference between yesterday, today, and tomorrow. I’m sane again. The past is gone, and so are the continual nightmares of it. Tonight, when I go to bed, there is no guarantee that I won’t have bad dreams. But dreams will stay dreams, and no longer masquerade as reality.
I am scarcely involved in, much less responsible for my own healing. Unless you count accepting rest and care. Unless you count accepting Him. I’ll lie here, with nothing to do but watch the Healer as He cares for me. Nothing to do but consider the fact that He must, actually, love me.
Lies Meet the Truth Part 1, How the Lies Came
When I was young and naïve they came to me, these lies. Only one at first. It promised to help, to fill the emptiness, calm the fears, and bring order in my chaos. It never mentioned any price it only wanted to be a friend to me. So I accepted.
As soon as I let it in it made itself at home and I found we weren’t just friends, we were friends with benefits, or else. Somehow, I never considered tossing it out. Once you give yourself to something it’s hard to throw it out and far from alleviating my fears it magnified them. No, I didn’t try to get rid of it, I protected it. But this lie wasn’t being helpful as it promised at all. It was abusing me and now I was more desperate than ever.
So more came knocking on my door. Like salesmen with the latest model. “We’ve heard your screams and we have the answer to your misery.” They would help, they didn’t require anything in return. They only wanted to be friends. So in desperation I let one in after the other. Until I was less than a slave in my own heart.
Each one made themselves at home. They formed relationships with one another. Some hated each other and fought all the time, I was always collateral damage. Others worked together to make my misery worse.
And they all, separately, required their benefits. Intimacy, forced, whenever they wanted, however they liked. I still hoped naively that each new one would be the hero to deliver me from the last ones. But it never worked like that.
Each one fed on the ones before it, more of a monster, more abusive, more controlling, and always requiring more of me.
Then there came a time when I quit looking for a hero. I quit answering the door. I was too busy cowering exhausted and naked in my corner hoping none of them would notice me. But it didn’t help. They were only too happy to answer it for me and invite their relatives in.
But all this was only in my head. So I learned two defenses. Try not to think, because my head was full of only lies that I no longer wanted any part of, or plot revolt and revenge. I wouldn’t be too surprised if the lies themselves taught me these defenses. Little help have they ever been to me.
But a Hero has come. I don’t really know what He is up to or how He got in. I wonder sometimes, why He doesn’t throw them all out immediately. I think maybe they are in too deep for a quick fix. He won’t yank them away, He will care for me until I throw them out myself. Sometimes I hate Him for this.
I haven’t tasted much of His Peace, but sometimes I smell it, like fresh baked bread. To be hungry and smell food without tasting it. Well, I hate Him for this too sometimes.
I know that some of them have gone. I know it’s because of Him. I think I might have had something to do with it as well, but I don’t know what. Sometimes I look for Him and can’t seem to find Him. As though He left me to them again for a while.
I get the idea that I am supposed to have power over them myself, but I don’t understand that either. Sometimes it seems like I have, sometimes not. So I keep plotting my escape, often in despair, or I try not to think.
I know that the Truth is laying around here somewhere but why does it seem so laid back? Why does it seem that I have to prod it into action but lies are animated on their own? Isn’t Truth supposed to have a life of its own?
I want easy answers. I want quick relief.
Even here I see the influence of the lies. They seep out of everything I say and do. Nothing is clear of them. This is what I hate the most. This is why I try not to think. Because every little idea is marred by them. I recognize their mark but I don’t know how to remove it.
I determine to meditate on the truth, I determine to ignore the lies at least for a moment without the escape of not thinking. And I find even the Truth is not unstained once it has passed through my mind. When will I be free?
As soon as I let it in it made itself at home and I found we weren’t just friends, we were friends with benefits, or else. Somehow, I never considered tossing it out. Once you give yourself to something it’s hard to throw it out and far from alleviating my fears it magnified them. No, I didn’t try to get rid of it, I protected it. But this lie wasn’t being helpful as it promised at all. It was abusing me and now I was more desperate than ever.
So more came knocking on my door. Like salesmen with the latest model. “We’ve heard your screams and we have the answer to your misery.” They would help, they didn’t require anything in return. They only wanted to be friends. So in desperation I let one in after the other. Until I was less than a slave in my own heart.
Each one made themselves at home. They formed relationships with one another. Some hated each other and fought all the time, I was always collateral damage. Others worked together to make my misery worse.
And they all, separately, required their benefits. Intimacy, forced, whenever they wanted, however they liked. I still hoped naively that each new one would be the hero to deliver me from the last ones. But it never worked like that.
Each one fed on the ones before it, more of a monster, more abusive, more controlling, and always requiring more of me.
Then there came a time when I quit looking for a hero. I quit answering the door. I was too busy cowering exhausted and naked in my corner hoping none of them would notice me. But it didn’t help. They were only too happy to answer it for me and invite their relatives in.
But all this was only in my head. So I learned two defenses. Try not to think, because my head was full of only lies that I no longer wanted any part of, or plot revolt and revenge. I wouldn’t be too surprised if the lies themselves taught me these defenses. Little help have they ever been to me.
But a Hero has come. I don’t really know what He is up to or how He got in. I wonder sometimes, why He doesn’t throw them all out immediately. I think maybe they are in too deep for a quick fix. He won’t yank them away, He will care for me until I throw them out myself. Sometimes I hate Him for this.
I haven’t tasted much of His Peace, but sometimes I smell it, like fresh baked bread. To be hungry and smell food without tasting it. Well, I hate Him for this too sometimes.
I know that some of them have gone. I know it’s because of Him. I think I might have had something to do with it as well, but I don’t know what. Sometimes I look for Him and can’t seem to find Him. As though He left me to them again for a while.
I get the idea that I am supposed to have power over them myself, but I don’t understand that either. Sometimes it seems like I have, sometimes not. So I keep plotting my escape, often in despair, or I try not to think.
I know that the Truth is laying around here somewhere but why does it seem so laid back? Why does it seem that I have to prod it into action but lies are animated on their own? Isn’t Truth supposed to have a life of its own?
I want easy answers. I want quick relief.
Even here I see the influence of the lies. They seep out of everything I say and do. Nothing is clear of them. This is what I hate the most. This is why I try not to think. Because every little idea is marred by them. I recognize their mark but I don’t know how to remove it.
I determine to meditate on the truth, I determine to ignore the lies at least for a moment without the escape of not thinking. And I find even the Truth is not unstained once it has passed through my mind. When will I be free?
Friday, April 2, 2010
Operation March: Completed
Miraculously, I did finish my goal of reading through the entire Bible in the month of March. It was pretty close at the end, I ended up having to read almost the entire New Testament in two days. I cannot recommend this.
Then, when I got to the end and tallied up all the chapters I'd read, I came up 24 short. After a bit of searching my record I found 22 of them in Psalms; I had messed up my "read through Psalms in a month" plan. I still haven't found the other two missing chapters but I'm pretty sure that the mistake is in my tallying, not my reading. On the other hand, I may have read the Entire Bible Except Two Chapters in one month, but I can't convince myself that I should be concerned about it.
So, at the end of this silly idea, what did I come away with? That's what I'm asking myself.
For one thing, the Bible seems to have shrunk some. I have conquered my childhood feeling of it being an impossibly long book that I might hardly read through in a lifetime. I also have come away really liking The Message version but with the conviction that what version is read matters very little in the scheme of things. It's not about which version, it's about God's words, Jesus' story, and the Holy Spirit teaching us from the inside out.
At the same time that the length of the Bible shrunk the amount and depth of information, as well as the general delightfulness of the stories grew. I loved reading through Paul's writing in common American English. For once I could identify in many ways.
It was no longer some old frowning scholar from another world laboriously lecturing over the niceties of the Gospel. Instead it was just a man, like men I have met and heard, speaking boldly because God had told him to use the authority God gave him. He felt many of the things I felt as I taught what God had taught me: love, urgency, hopelessness, exhilaration, inadequacy, boldness, and above everything trust that God would complete what He started. I noticed and could understand how in almost every letter he mentions that he longs to be with them and that letter writing isn't sufficient.
With the New Testament in general I was reminded that Jesus is amazing, and of course loving, but definitely not nice. I was reminded that I live a mystery, a wonderful, scary, ludicrous mystery; Christ in me.
I noticed that in the Old Testament it seems as though God promised good things for whole-hearted obedience but in the New Testament Jesus teaches that trials will come just because you follow Him, promising only internal and eternal rewards. I didn't reach any sort of conclusion about this, just noticed it.
I realized that God is not only sarcastic to me personally but that He always has been. This delighted me and made me feel a bit smug. Not all sarcasm is bred from insecurity, sometimes it's just the best way to get the point across. (And coming from God, it is most definitely a Love language.)
Overall, I think that God has answered a few of my questions from this post about reading the Bible.
What am I to look for as I read it?
I don't need to look for anything as I read it. If I already have something on my mind then I'll know what to look for, if I don't, just enjoy the read.
What am I to do with all the questions that surface as I read?
Ask them of course! But don't get worried if they aren't all answered. It's not about understanding everything, it's about knowing God one day at a time.
Why is it so important to keep reading this book?
I really love the answer to this one. You've probably heard people say that the Bible is a letter from God to us, they usually go off about how awesome this is and how deplorable it is that we don't believe how precious it is.
I can tell you why I never could feel the preciousness of this idea. One really old, really long 'letter' from God and not even to me personally, was all I got till heaven? That is about as good a deal as getting to eat old bread crusts for the rest of your life without even getting any water.
The problem with a letter is that it usually means the person isn't there. It's just something to let you know they're still alive while they're off vacationing. The problem with that idea is that God isn't off vacationing, He's with you, in you, communicating and presently available for two-way conversation. So, why would I read a letter from Him if He's already here?
But, a book, a story written by a person I know and love, even a memoir, I would read that even as they were sitting in the room with me. I would eat it up and read it aloud to them and laugh at their jokes and ask them questions, and learn more than I might have ever known about them from a conversation.
Once, I saw a poem that Cassie, (my very dear friend who has been writing copiously ever since she could hold a pencil) wrote hanging on the bulletin board on her wall. I would guess that we were about 12 at the time and I had never really noticed any of her writing until I saw this poem. I don't remember what it was about or anything it said. What I remember is thinking, "She is thinking some of the exact same stuff I've been thinking about but we've never talked about it."
I mentioned something about it to her and told her I'd like to see more of her writing, to learn more about the Real Cassie. That year for my birthday she gave me a book of hand copied poems of hers with this inscription in the front:
Then, when I got to the end and tallied up all the chapters I'd read, I came up 24 short. After a bit of searching my record I found 22 of them in Psalms; I had messed up my "read through Psalms in a month" plan. I still haven't found the other two missing chapters but I'm pretty sure that the mistake is in my tallying, not my reading. On the other hand, I may have read the Entire Bible Except Two Chapters in one month, but I can't convince myself that I should be concerned about it.
So, at the end of this silly idea, what did I come away with? That's what I'm asking myself.
For one thing, the Bible seems to have shrunk some. I have conquered my childhood feeling of it being an impossibly long book that I might hardly read through in a lifetime. I also have come away really liking The Message version but with the conviction that what version is read matters very little in the scheme of things. It's not about which version, it's about God's words, Jesus' story, and the Holy Spirit teaching us from the inside out.
At the same time that the length of the Bible shrunk the amount and depth of information, as well as the general delightfulness of the stories grew. I loved reading through Paul's writing in common American English. For once I could identify in many ways.
It was no longer some old frowning scholar from another world laboriously lecturing over the niceties of the Gospel. Instead it was just a man, like men I have met and heard, speaking boldly because God had told him to use the authority God gave him. He felt many of the things I felt as I taught what God had taught me: love, urgency, hopelessness, exhilaration, inadequacy, boldness, and above everything trust that God would complete what He started. I noticed and could understand how in almost every letter he mentions that he longs to be with them and that letter writing isn't sufficient.
With the New Testament in general I was reminded that Jesus is amazing, and of course loving, but definitely not nice. I was reminded that I live a mystery, a wonderful, scary, ludicrous mystery; Christ in me.
I noticed that in the Old Testament it seems as though God promised good things for whole-hearted obedience but in the New Testament Jesus teaches that trials will come just because you follow Him, promising only internal and eternal rewards. I didn't reach any sort of conclusion about this, just noticed it.
I realized that God is not only sarcastic to me personally but that He always has been. This delighted me and made me feel a bit smug. Not all sarcasm is bred from insecurity, sometimes it's just the best way to get the point across. (And coming from God, it is most definitely a Love language.)
Overall, I think that God has answered a few of my questions from this post about reading the Bible.
What am I to look for as I read it?
I don't need to look for anything as I read it. If I already have something on my mind then I'll know what to look for, if I don't, just enjoy the read.
What am I to do with all the questions that surface as I read?
Ask them of course! But don't get worried if they aren't all answered. It's not about understanding everything, it's about knowing God one day at a time.
Why is it so important to keep reading this book?
I really love the answer to this one. You've probably heard people say that the Bible is a letter from God to us, they usually go off about how awesome this is and how deplorable it is that we don't believe how precious it is.
I can tell you why I never could feel the preciousness of this idea. One really old, really long 'letter' from God and not even to me personally, was all I got till heaven? That is about as good a deal as getting to eat old bread crusts for the rest of your life without even getting any water.
The problem with a letter is that it usually means the person isn't there. It's just something to let you know they're still alive while they're off vacationing. The problem with that idea is that God isn't off vacationing, He's with you, in you, communicating and presently available for two-way conversation. So, why would I read a letter from Him if He's already here?
But, a book, a story written by a person I know and love, even a memoir, I would read that even as they were sitting in the room with me. I would eat it up and read it aloud to them and laugh at their jokes and ask them questions, and learn more than I might have ever known about them from a conversation.
Once, I saw a poem that Cassie, (my very dear friend who has been writing copiously ever since she could hold a pencil) wrote hanging on the bulletin board on her wall. I would guess that we were about 12 at the time and I had never really noticed any of her writing until I saw this poem. I don't remember what it was about or anything it said. What I remember is thinking, "She is thinking some of the exact same stuff I've been thinking about but we've never talked about it."
I mentioned something about it to her and told her I'd like to see more of her writing, to learn more about the Real Cassie. That year for my birthday she gave me a book of hand copied poems of hers with this inscription in the front:
To My Very Dear Friend
Lauren
{Who expressed the desire
to know the real 'me'}
You can bet that I treasure that book and that I did learn more about her from reading them. I learned that when you read a person's writing you get to see and know a part of them you might have totally missed otherwise. Is it just me or does it sound better to you to read a book because it's written by a dear friend of yours, then to read a letter by someone you will meet someday?
Lauren
{Who expressed the desire
to know the real 'me'}
You can bet that I treasure that book and that I did learn more about her from reading them. I learned that when you read a person's writing you get to see and know a part of them you might have totally missed otherwise. Is it just me or does it sound better to you to read a book because it's written by a dear friend of yours, then to read a letter by someone you will meet someday?
Another thing I've learned about reading the Bible is that if you go to it without an agenda, without the need to search for something in particular, without being driven to deduce or apply whatever principles might be lurking, it can be soothing. Not in a silly, vague, sense but very realistic comfort, like a mother soothing a scared child with a touch of her hand, or a wound being soothed with the right ointment, or being reminded, when it looks like all is lost, that Goodness does prevail. It restores hope and gives courage freely.
The Bible can be returned to again and again not because it's become comfortable or familiar but because it fits, it's right, it's real. In an upside-down world where most things are terribly wrong and even the right things aren't quite as they should be it reminds me that life is bigger than what I see in front of me and God is more active than my feelings tell me.
The Bible can be returned to again and again not because it's become comfortable or familiar but because it fits, it's right, it's real. In an upside-down world where most things are terribly wrong and even the right things aren't quite as they should be it reminds me that life is bigger than what I see in front of me and God is more active than my feelings tell me.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Day 12, Operation March
- Ezekiel 41-48
- Daniel
- Psalms for yesterday and today
- Proverbs 11-12
I do trust Him. In fact, I am willing at this point, to trust Him indefinitely with little or no validation from Him. I'm willing, but I'd really rather not. I believe that He is after an active, real, and present relationship with me, it just doesn't feel like it right now.
Right now it feels like His attitude is, "Our relationship isn't nearly as important as your devotion." Which, frankly, are the words of a jerk. Hence the talking with God about it.
He hasn't responded much to what I've said, and I'm trying not to be annoyed. Today, though, when I read Daniel I noticed that God told Daniel things that were superfluous to their relationship. He didn't stick to what Daniel needed to be obedient. He showed him things in the future, that Daniel couldn't possibly control, influence, or even be affected by.
I got the feeling that God told him just because God was thinking about it and wanted to share what He was seeing and feeling with someone. God's messenger even tells Daniel things like, "As soon as you asked for understanding, the answer was sent. You must really be loved!"
So, I'm thinking that I really shouldn't take my feelings too seriously. God is into relationship, just as I suspected.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Day 8, Operation March
- Jeremiah
Reading The Message version of the Bible makes a big difference. Sometimes it bothers me that the wording and phrases that are so familiar to me aren't in it but for the most part I've really appreciated it. To me it brings the entire Bible back to real life, reminding me that the Israelites weren't some alien race from another moon but rather people exactly like the ones I know.
It also reminds me that God is not Victorian, does not speak in Old English, and does not shy from making your skin crawl when necessary. It's amazing the difference it makes when the Bible is talking about sex for that word to actually be used. (Shocking!) If it weren't the Bible, I don't think my parent's would have let me read such a book.
Speaking of which, the difference between the plight of Israel and America today seems to be only that Americans are too advanced to bow to or name their idols. This is not judgment, only a statement of fact. Some people seem to think that America has reached new heights of sin, as though we have become even worse than God has ever seen. I think not.
As I read the thought keeps reoccurring, how much of my belief in God is really honest belief and how much is due to being taught about Him from a very young age? At first this thought scares me, "Am I falling away from God!?" Then I decide not to be silly, if God is God (and no matter the reason, I am very bad at doubting this) then He cannot be threatened by my questions.
Irrational as it may be, I love it that no matter how many questions surface about what I really believe, I am always asking God for the answers and expecting them from Him. It's like expecting light from the sun. As much as I try to be objective about it, it never works.
Monday, March 8, 2010
Day 7, Operation March
Today I finished off the minor prophets and Isaiah.
I have accepted the fact that my mind is not perfect and that it does not reflect my heart. Thankfully, the Bible was not written for the perfect, the genius, or even the scholar. It was written for me.
Reading the prophets makes me wonder, exactly how is God unchangeable? How can I rely on such a moody person? Can God be desperate? Does He work so differently with nations than with individuals?
I feel like a friend of mine has suddenly appeared in a vastly different shape and I am forced to ask, "Who are You?" I know that I am not the first to consider splitting God into some sort of cosmic personality disorder: the "God of the Old Testament" and "The God of the New Testament".
Every now and then, it seems like I catch for a second that God's judgment, mercy, love, and holiness do fit together as a seamless whole. Like seeing something out of the corner of my eye but finding it gone before I can turn to focus on it, it never becomes entirely clear.
I've heard all sorts of answers to these thoughts, I've discussed them, probably taught a few of them. In this moment, these questions or worries are not enough to shake the foundation that God has laid in me. He is in control; He is good; I am His. I am content to continue puzzling over the other questions.
I don't want to settle for any answer that doesn't satisfy. For now, I'll stick to "I don't know." If there was such a day when I would finally know everything I would be gravely disappointed. I believe that receiving answers, looking for and looking forward to answers are our divine rights as humans. I expect to enjoy exercising them for eternity.
- Isaiah
- Micah
- Nahum
- Habakkuk
- Zephaniah
- Haggai
- Zechariah
- Malachi
I have accepted the fact that my mind is not perfect and that it does not reflect my heart. Thankfully, the Bible was not written for the perfect, the genius, or even the scholar. It was written for me.
Reading the prophets makes me wonder, exactly how is God unchangeable? How can I rely on such a moody person? Can God be desperate? Does He work so differently with nations than with individuals?
I feel like a friend of mine has suddenly appeared in a vastly different shape and I am forced to ask, "Who are You?" I know that I am not the first to consider splitting God into some sort of cosmic personality disorder: the "God of the Old Testament" and "The God of the New Testament".
Every now and then, it seems like I catch for a second that God's judgment, mercy, love, and holiness do fit together as a seamless whole. Like seeing something out of the corner of my eye but finding it gone before I can turn to focus on it, it never becomes entirely clear.
I've heard all sorts of answers to these thoughts, I've discussed them, probably taught a few of them. In this moment, these questions or worries are not enough to shake the foundation that God has laid in me. He is in control; He is good; I am His. I am content to continue puzzling over the other questions.
I don't want to settle for any answer that doesn't satisfy. For now, I'll stick to "I don't know." If there was such a day when I would finally know everything I would be gravely disappointed. I believe that receiving answers, looking for and looking forward to answers are our divine rights as humans. I expect to enjoy exercising them for eternity.
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
To Be a Friend
Why can I not always be there for my friends? Am I doomed to fail as a friend? What is a good friend? Am I afraid to trust people? What is God doing? Is He using me in my friend’s lives to prove that you cannot rely on people? Why do my actions not follow my intentions? I need to try harder. I cannot try harder, I have tried that before. What is holding me back? My immaturity? God? Or just human limitations?
I know that God is in control. I know that I am letting my friends down, people that I love. I know that God is using me, but He uses Satan too. Yep, that is exactly how I feel: Used. Am I supposed to be grateful for being used to disillusion people that try to trust me?
All these thoughts have been churning in my mind the past three months. I talked to God about it. I knew He was up to something. He did not give any definite answers. Every now and then, I thought He might have but the more I grasped at it the less stable it became. Waiting again . . . I was frustrated. Some people have said that I am a patient person but I have noticed it is only the ones who have not spent much time around me. God just kept churning, until the real question solidified and came to the top like fresh butter still floating in cream.
The real question was this, “Can I trust God?” I really thought that this question was all settled. My goodness! It has been asked and answered often enough. Thank God that He really is patient; He never gets tired of answering this question. I begin to think that He brings it up and presses it out of me because He actually enjoys answering it. In fact, I know that the question originates in Him, “Lauren, did you know that you can trust Me in this situation?”
When He pressed me to admit that I felt used, as in “used and abused”, He immediately responded, “I no longer call you servants but friends, for a servant knows not what his master is doing.” In case you were wondering, I was not comforted by this at all. I replied to this divine revelation with the all encompassing, “Whatever.”
So God kept churning. I wonder what the rest of that verse says. Does that imply that I know what He is doing? Yeah, I know what He is doing; He is using me to make my family and friend’s lives miserable. “I no longer call you servants . . .” I wonder what the rest of that verse says . . . what is the context . . . has God really told me what He is doing?
John 15:15 “No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.” This is when Jesus is pouring His heart out to His disciples, He talks about abiding “I in you, you in Me, I in the Father . . .” He talks about loving each other, He talks about the Holy Spirit. So what are You doing? “I am making them one with me. I am making you one with me. I am glorifying the Father, you are glorifying the Father. I do all things well.” Hmm. So, You are using me to . . . “I didn’t say how I was using you, I said that I told you what I am doing.” Oh! I am not to focus on how You are using me, whether it is good or bad, or even whether You are using me. I am to focus on what I know You to be doing in my life and in other’s lives. You do all things well.
Just for the record, where does that leave me as a friend? I cannot be the friend I thought that I could be. What do You say a good friend is?
“A good friend knows Me.”
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