Get out of the box

Like most people, I am uncomfortable when I sense that other people are "putting me in a box" or giving me a "label". I guess none of us likes to feel that someone thinks they have us all figured out. It's an insult to think I've been oversimplified.

Recently I realized, however, that sometimes I am the worst culprit when it comes to putting me in a box. I don't know if it's a normal phenomenon that comes with getting older but I am becoming more aware of how often I do this to myself. There's a little verse in Jeremiah that may shed some insight on this increasing awareness.

Jeremiah 48:11 says: Moab has been at ease since his youth; he has also been undisturbed on his lees, neither has he been emptied from vessel to vessel, nor has he gone into exile. Therefore he retains his flavor, and his aroma has not changed. (NASB)

This verse describes people who haven't been "emptied from vessel to vessel" - forced to adapt to new situations and environments. The consequence of not having to adapt is that "he retains his flavor and his aroma has not changed". I'm sure there are lots of exceptions but I have noticed that people who haven't had to move, haven't traveled, haven't dealt with people of different ages and beliefs, haven't had their lives shaken up in one way or another (perhaps through difficult circumstances) can easily become inflexible and have set ideas about the way "things ought to be".

The move to California has been a "pouring from vessel to vessel" for me. In a totally new situation lots of things have been stirred up and I've noticed things about myself that I may not have noticed if we'd stayed put. One of the things I've noticed are some of the boxes I've put myself in, some of the labels I've stuck on myself and become comfortable with over the years. Labels do simplify life and they aren't all bad but sometimes they can get in the way of growth and creativity.

Here's an example: Lately I realized that I had put myself into a "frugal" box and that box was keeping me from enjoying something that God has recently lavished on me (via my dear husband). It's time to get out of that box, even if it's only occasionally, and to let my "flavor" and aroma be changed by being poured into a new vessel. Hopefully, new avenues of creativity, joy and blessing for others will result. After all, it's not really about me, it's about becoming everything God has in mind for me to be. And for that, I gotta get out of that box.

Common Grace

Once in a while God gives us the ability to see just how fragile life is and what an amazing gift it is to be blessed with another day of life. Last night I was thinking about that and when I opened my eyes this morning it was with the realization that I opened them to a new day only by the grace of God.

A year ago I would have been hard-pressed to give a definition to "common grace". It was a concept I was vaguely aware of but hadn't thought about a lot. Over the past year I have become much more conscious of the concept, having been instructed in and reminded of it numerous times. Common grace is "common" because it is grace that is showered on all people, regardless of their spiritual condition or their recognition of the Giver of this grace. Common grace includes things like God's providential care of His creation, His restraining of evil in the world, His allowing mankind to live together without total chaos and His many blessings given through the use of mankind's intelligence - science, medicine and technology. "God causes His rain to fall on the good and evil" is a recognition of common grace. Common grace is "grace" because it is something that is totally undeserved by the recipients. God gives it because He is a giver, not because we deserve it.

Of course in a world that doesn't recognize God, common grace is unheard of. Being materialists, most of us think it's our jobs that provide for our needs, not recognizing that our ability to work and our job itself is a gift of God. In manifold ways we ignore the ultimate source, giving credit to the "second causes".

The only sane and reasonable response to an awareness of common grace is thankfulness. There's a whole lot of sound theology in the three little words "count your blessings". So today I'm thanking God for the common grace He showers in my life - things like waking up healthy this morning, starting and ending each day in the arms of a good man who loves me, the love of my family, food in my cupboards and refrigerator, the rain He's causing to fall on LA today, the blessing of music that pours from my CD player at the touch of a button, the mail system and my computer that bring me greetings from beloved friends far and wide, safety on the LA freeways. Of course all of these blessings pale in comparison to the surpassing value of the UNcommon grace He has poured out on me in Jesus' atoning death on the cross. But they are still there, day by day reminding me that the One who spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, will with Him also freely give us all things.

An understanding of God's common grace helps me when times get tough. If my trust is in the Giver and not in the gift, my foundation is secure no matter what happens. "He does not fear bad news nor live in dread of what may happen, for he is settled in his mind that Jehovah will take care of him." (Psalm 112:7 Living Bible) The God who cares for the sparrows and lilies is also in sovereign control of my life. Life is much better when I spend it thanking God for His blessings than when I live in fear of losing them. May God open our eyes to His grace, common and uncommon.

Totally Random....

Every blog-less day that goes by makes it easier to not blog. To get over that hurdle I am now going to blog, even if it is something totally inane. Somehow having this empty space before me intimidates me if I think about having to fill it with something significant. So here are a few random thoughts that have been bouncing around my head like pinballs.

Before my mom died, I remember her telling me one day that she would "give everything I own just to have all the grandkids little again for just a day or two". It surprised me at the time but I've thought about it many times since then, reflecting on just how precious those days were to her. Now that we have our own little grandson coming to visit Grandma and Grandpa and scooting around the house I can understand her. TeeTee has taught Micah several hand motions so that even though he can't talk, he can express certain things. The other day when he came over I was holding him, just enjoying the warmth of that little body in my arms. He put up with it for a minute and then he looked at me and used the hand motion for "Feed me!" I had to laugh - he already knows what Grandmas are supposed to do and he lost no time in reminding me. I thought of my mom and knew she would agree with Micah - that's what Grandmas are for.

How many of our memories are associated with the kitchen? At least in our family I know that many of them are. Anne made a reference this afternoon to my favorite hiding place for things I didn't want the kids to eat beforetime: the vegetable drawer. I knew if they went foraging for a snack they weren't likely to look in with the carrots, celery and half-withered apples so I would often slip something I was saving under the aforementioned items and could rest assured that it was safe there. I think it was only recently that I revealed that secret and I may yet regret spilling the beans on myself.

I find myself reflecting often on my place in the flow of generations. Hovering over my shoulder are the memories of my own parents and grandparents. In front of me are my children and grandchild. Definitely one of the benefits of being middle-aged.

Captain O'Hara's Wisdom

Alhambra Public Library moved to a new building late this summer. Most moves precipitate housecleaning so there were tables of books for sale as they purged the shelves. I came across a book by one of my favorite authors, a book I hadn't read before, Green Dolphin Street by Elizabeth Goudge. It was published in 1944 and I was thrilled with the find. This was the book I was reading as we traveled last August.

During our trip we visited three of the places we've lived in the past - the farmhouse in Illinois, the rowhouse in Bochum and the apartment in Aachen. Visiting the very different places we've called home and seeing the people who were part of those lives was an unusual experience, perhaps because the visits came in such quick succession, giving almost a time-warp effect to our lives.

As we were traveling, visiting these stopping points of our lives, Captain O'Hara, a key figure in the book I was reading, spoke these words: "There's much that goes to the makin' of a man or woman into somethin' better than a brute beast, but there's three things in chief, an' them three are the places where life sets us down, an' the folk life knocks us up against, an' not the things you get in life but the things ye don't get." Those words haunted me as we were revisiting the 'places life had set us down' and the 'folk life had knocked us up against'. It was clear to see that those places and people truly had influenced who we had become.

And now it's been 14 months since we moved to California, the latest 'place where life has set me down' and I have to admit that I'm surprised at how difficult the adjustment has been for me. I guess I expected that within a year I would feel at home and like I fit in. The truth is, I don't. I've been struggling with this some and wondering about it. Perhaps my expectations were all wrong. If my life were a jigsaw puzzle then I expected that I'd dismantle the pieces of my life in Illinois and just put them back together out here in California. Of course I realized that many of the background pieces would have to change but I still expected that the main "picture" would be the same. Strangely, it seems that few of the pieces fit together any more. No matter how hard I beat on those pieces, they just don't seem to fit any more. I've gone from trying to MAKE them fit, to trying to figure out WHY they don't fit, to a slow realization that God in His infinite wisdom is in the process of making a whole new picture out of the old pieces. Perhaps Captain O'Hara would say this is one of those 'things ye don't get' that is going into the making of who I am.

I've been reading two books lately that have given me a new hope for the picture God will eventually make out of the jigsaw pieces of my life. The Holiness of God by R.C. Sproul and Living the Cross-Centered Life by C.J. Mahaney have challenged me to hope that the new picture won't be one of me at all, but a clearer picture of the cross and the One who died on it for me. I'm awed at the drastic measures God can take to dismantle the old so He can form the new. I have to agree with Captain O'Hara, that there is much that goes into the makin' of a man or woman - much more than we want to see sometimes. I'm grateful for God's sovereign grace over it all.

The "Little Faiths"

I've been reading in the Gospel of Mark these days and in Mark 4 there is a story that has puzzled me many times. It is the story of Jesus and the disciples crossing the Sea of Galilee in a boat when a horrific storm comes up and Jesus is asleep in the stern. In alarm, the disciples finally wake Jesus. It isn't clear to me what they thought Jesus could or would do but waking Him appears to be the only thing they could think of to do.

Jesus rebukes the wind and the waves and then chides the disciples for their lack of faith. The question that always troubles me is this: How SHOULD they have responded in that situation? I mean in a practical sense. Undeniably, they were in serious trouble. But Jesus obviously expected a different response from them. And when the storms hit in my own life, what should my faith look like, in an equally practical sense?

While mulling this question, I did a little study looking up all the passages where Jesus rebuked the disciples for their little faith. "Why are you afraid?" "You of little faith, why did you doubt?" "Where is your faith?" "You of little faith!" "Why are you afraid, you men of little faith?" "You men of little faith, why do you discuss among yourselves...?" Most of these rebukes are in the form of a question. Jesus asks in wonderment, "How is it possible that you can have fear?" In every case there is a juxtaposition of their natural response of fear and His assertion that their natural response should have been faith. I can see that faith would definitely have been preferable but I am still left wondering, what would that have looked like in the midst of that storm?

Three days after I started mulling these "little faith" questions, the Lord directed my attention to Acts 27. Here a few excerpts describing the magnitude of this, another storm story: "There rushed down from the land a violent wind...scarcely able to get the boat under control...let themselves be driven along... violently storm-tossed...neither sun nor stars for many days...no small storm assailing us...all hope of being saved gradually abandoned...long time without food." Truly another situation of genuine peril and this one lasting for many days. But then we see the response of faith as exhibited by the Apostle Paul: "Yet I urge you to keep up your courage...an angel appeared to me...do not be afraid...Therefore, keep up your courage, men, for I believe that it will turn out exactly as I have been told." Paul, instead of panic, was calmly encouraging the others and strengthening them to believe. Fear is contagious, but so also is faith. Even though the circumstances were dire, Paul was fully convinced that all would be well. In spite of eventual shipwreck against a rocky shore not a single life was lost.

I came across some writings from Julian of Norwich recently (more about that in another post) and was struck again by these famous lines that God revealed to her in a vision: All shall be well and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well. There is a profound answer in that to my question of what one should say in those storm-tossed seasons of life. No need for "little faith" for "All shall be well."

Why Pray?

I think most of us, if asked to answer True or False to the statement "Prayer is important" would say without hesitation, "True!". If the next statement on the quiz was "I spend daily, deep, consistent and concentrated time in prayer" we might be tempted to ask if we could answer on a scale of 1 to 10 instead of a straight true or false. Prayer has always been an area of struggle for me personally. I think the main reason is simply that it is hard work. It's hard work to put aside my Do List and spend time investing my life for someone else's life; to put aside the tangible for the intangible; to wrestle through my undisciplined thoughts, to confess my sin and to do the labor of the kingdom on my knees. Another reason is that the enemy would rather have us do just about anything other than pray and is adept at offering me plenty of alternatives or distractions.

One question that has often niggled at my mind is simply this, "If God knows everything and can do anything He wants, why is it necessary for me to ask Him to do something?" In essence it's a question about how I figure into the equation. Why pray?

THAT God wants us to pray is infinitely clear. So as I go about being obedient I am always looking for answers to the question of why. Over the years I've collected a few of them that do encourage me greatly. Perhaps one or the other of them will encourage someone else.

I love the story of God revealing to Abraham that He was about to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah. Abraham, interceding for any righteous people who might be swept away in the destruction, begins to bargain with God. It's almost as if he were in a market, bargaining over the price of an article. He repeatedly asks God to spare the city for the sake of an ever-decreasing number of possible-righteous. And the amazing thing is, that God submits to the shamelessness of Abraham's faith, as evidenced by his requests. Keil & Delitzsch comment that this is the holy "importunity" of Luke 11:8 that does not cease until its point is gained. They go on to say that this would indeed be neither permissible nor possible, had not God, by virtue of the mysterious interlacing of necessity and freedom in His nature and operations, granted a power to the prayer of faith, to which He consents to yield. For some reason the Creator allows Himself to be worked upon by the creation and has given His creation the right to assert itself in faith. If that isn't a reason to pray, I don't know what is!

Another thing that motivates me to pray is knowing that God uses our actions as a gauge of our faith. There are so many examples in Scripture of God providing something but it doesn't become ours until we take it by faith. In the wilderness He provided manna for the hungry people. But they had to go out every day and collect it (humbling themselves to bend over and gather the flaky substance). When the Israelites were about to enter the Promised Land, God promised that He would fight for them. But they still had to take up their weapons and fight, a definite act of faith. God delivered the children of Israel from Egypt but they had to use their feet and walk out. The fishermen had to cast out their nets and bring in the fish. And God provided a solution for our sin, but in faith we have to repent and receive it. So prayer isn't any different. God is willing to do amazing things for the Kingdom but He is waiting for me to ask in faith. I hope the epitaph of my life will never be "She did not have because she did not ask."

Making Good Use of Your Time

There's a little devotional book by a godly old Norwegian pastor named Ole Hallesby. This was the first devotional book I had as a child (borrowed from my mother) and although most of the thoughts were probably deeper than my understanding, I used that book for years. At some point I loaned it to someone and never got it back. A year or so ago, another copy of the very same book fell into my hands and I've been treasuring it ever since. I think at some point during the years I had actually prayed that I would get my book back - one of those "forgotten" prayers that you don't remember until the Lord answers them. It's been wonderful to have the gift of this little book.

I was reading in this book today and came across a thought that thundered in my brain when I read it. The context was the author's thoughts about God's mercy in the way He chastens us. "Suffering child of God! It is not dangerous to suffer. In this world we are to suffer. Christ went before us also in this respect. We are to follow Him also in suffering. You are making good use of your time when you suffer. You are suffering unjustly, you say? Oh, well, neither is that dangerous. That is the way Jesus suffered all His life."

What an amazing thought - that we are making good use of our time when we are suffering! Only a heart truly gripped by the Holy Spirit can speak those words. It is one of the great mysteries of the Kingdom, like the first being last, the least being greatest. My flesh will never tell me that suffering isn't dangerous, that it's making good use of my time. This echoes of Paul's words that "these momentary, light afflictions are producing for us an eternal weight of glory." Producing an eternal weight of glory is definitely a good use of time; turning light affliction into a weight of glory is a good return on the investment. What Paul considered "light" affliction is rather boggling, though, too (beatings, imprisonments, etc).

Another thought I was chewing on today was from Ephesians 2:10: For we are His workmanship... I was trying to find out what that word "workmanship" means. I know there is the obvious meaning but I thought there might be more behind it. I checked several sources and found an interesting insight in Vine's Expository Dictionary of New Testament Words. The Greek word for workmanship is POIEMA. It means something that is made, fabricated. It is the word from which we get our word "poem". So the next time I start to feel a bit worthless, I will remind myself that I am God's poem, created in Christ Jesus for good works.