A Love of my Own

“The clouds parted over her,” he told in his southern gentleman's drawl. “Nothing could be clearer, as she was the one I was meant to marry.”

     This story was like a banner over my childhood, my father’s insistence on love at first sight, on destinies we hardly choose for ourselves. I suppose I expected my own story to come about in this way, with spotlights and cheeky cupid himself making an appearance when I saw her.

     Instead, I was at a weekday church group for singles, serving God, tradition and my parent’s expectations. My father was a retired pastor, and my mother the perfect wife. I learned that love and Christian duty were quite synonymous and back then, this was good enough for me. However, though it seemed my years had once crawled by, towards the end of my twenties they quickened, like book pages released fan together in a forward momentum.

     “Will you ever marry?” my father would ask. My mother was different, simply reminding me what an eligible bachelor I was, “tall as a steeple, and sensible, too.” In response to this prying and implying, I began to wonder if their story created some sort of pressure. Like, the very moment I met true love, I’d know. Perhaps that is why I hadn’t settled down. I never knew for sure and though it pained me to admit it, no one was as good as my mother.

     Especially not Annie-Rae Gentry.

     I know her name sounds sweet as pie, but I heard she spent a year or two in a juvenile detention center and I was ashamed for her the day she stood outside the church with a cigarette wedged between pinched lips.

     “I remember you,” she said as I unavoidably stepped closer, for she was all but blocking the entrance. “Peter Stevenson.”

     “I believe we went to school together.” Before you went to jail, I wanted to say. I eyed the snake tattoo coiled about her bare arm and gulped. She was all skin and bones, dark hair that floated around her shoulders, eyes green like a stale creek.

     “I moved away.”

     “Where’d you go?”

     “Does it matter?”

     I made a face at the ground that said I was out of words.

     “Hotter than Hades out here,” she said and tossed the cigarette butt onto the pavement. The tip of her sandal came down on it, extinguishing the flame.

     “Ironic,” I said, considering her review of the churchyard.

     Her eyes lit at my joke, then she turned towards the door. “You going in?”

     I followed her.

     We sat together in the back row, her taking the first seat. This was preferred territory for me as I’d grown up forced to sit in a front pew.

    An organized band sent a melody of worship through the room and I mouthed the words. My eyes occasionally flickered towards Annie, curious if she knew them. It turned out she did and quite well, as the harmony of her voice reached my ears, smooth as honey.

     The service began and a pastor spoke on forgiveness. I could quote scripture about forgiveness backward and in my sleep, but next to Annie-Rae her reputation had me in all sorts of conundrums.

  After church, we walked.

  She smoked.

I couldn’t figure out why I followed her except that I could see a story in her eyes and I wanted to know it.

     “You sing like an angel,” I said.

     She flicked the cigarette away in an arc. “I grew up in the church, too.”

     I listened.

     “Got so hurt by life, so lost, I finally took off.” She stared at a line of trees to which we headed.

     “You’re back now?”

    “Can’t run forever,” she warned, her subtle smile arresting my reservation.

     “I don’t intend to.” I’d never run from anything, always forward, desperate to please my parents. Yet, it seemed the harder I tried, the more I faltered. Lately, they’d harbored hope I’d join the ministry but I was happily working with my hands.

     “Hmm.”

     Again I found myself drawn to the snake about her arm.

     She caught me and her lips turned up in a crooked grin. “Snakes mean wisdom, you know.”

    “Sometimes.”

     A burst of bumpy laughter disrupted the quiet as she crossed her arms. “I have another. Designed it myself.” She turned her back to me with not a hint of warning, lifting her shirt to reveal what appeared to be a bouquet of bluebonnets, the pride of Texas. I noticed the delicate ribs stacked along her side and drew in a quick breath. There were no clouds parting overhead and if anything the sun was gradually taking its post for the night, faint starlight dotting the sky. She tugged her shirt back into place and faced me again.

     “Did it hurt?” was all I could think to ask.

     She shrugged. “Sometimes you need pain to make something beautiful.”

     A cool breeze sucked up the last bit of sweltering heat and caused the leaves of a thick forest to dance alongside our trail. We walked further, enjoying the miracle of a wide-open bronze sky and genuine company

     Annie-Rae studied me, her eyes squinted in curiosity. “You’re quiet,” she said.

     I was quiet but that didn’t mean my mind wasn’t reeling.

     I imagined bringing her home to my folks, this messy-haired, wild-eyed artist who also smoked and only God knew what else. At once I realized she was the first girl I’d ever imagined bringing home and my feet stalled in the street. I tipped my head and scanned the sky, mustering hope for just one remaining ray of sunshine to come down and tell me if I’d done well.

     “You’re gonna hear lots of rumors about me.” She stood at my side, her grin still sideways and endearing. “A good bit of them are true.”

    Her gaze traced me, as I was a head taller, and though darkness settled, I could see tawny freckles that speckled her cheekbones. There was not another girl like her I had ever seen.

     “I’m not who I was,” she spoke flatly, then gulped.

     “I’ve never broken a rule in my life,” I started. “Not sure I’m better for it.”

     “I don’t know about rules,” she said. “I want to be good, though.”

     I considered what this meant, my forehead folded in lines as I tried to decipher her dazed expression.

     “I bet you could teach me. I bet you know all about goodness.”

 Our conversation took a turn as I told of the failure I’d become. 

Not married. Not a preacher. Just another church-goer hoping for destiny to intercept me somehow.

 I told the story of how my father found my mother and Annie-Rae bent at her center to laugh.

     “That’s hogwash, love at first sight,” she told me and swatted a hand through the air. Then, she lit another cigarette. “There’s just people like you and me, taking a chance.”

     “My father’s no liar."

     “Of course not. Only a romantic.” She took a drag and eyed me. “You want to fall in love, don’t you?”
     “Someday.”

     “Well, falling is an accident, Peter.” I thought for sure she was challenging me, but instead, she laughed.

    I realized how right she was, that I had always been a thinker, a realist. My infatuation with idealism came only as a result of my parents prodding, their own story inflaming my notions of what love was. “I’m almost thirty,” I informed her.

     “What’s the hurry?”

     I felt she read my mind.

     We turned and walked in pursuit of our vehicles, everyone else long gone.

     “I’m not looking for much-” she started and revealed her own insecurity, arms locked with reservation.

     “Yeah,” I managed to say, as it was all I could muster. Then we stood outside her dented car for a suspended moment of time, our eyes locking, understanding one another.

    “I think you’re gonna be just fine,” she said to me.

     I nodded, for this became true. I had encountered a purer sort of destiny, one without pressure, one that had Annie-Rae Gentry at my side, causing my heart to beat out of my chest.

     Forgiveness.

   I forgave my father and my mother right then. It wasn’t for fantastical stories that held some degree of truth, but for how they expected me to live their story as some sort of predestined sequel.

     I pre-forgave Annie, whatever that meant, for all rumors that might possibly find their way to my ears.

     Then perhaps most profound of all, I forgave myself.

      She stepped forward once, pressing her ear against my heart in a half-bodied hug. We separated, then she slipped into the driver’s seat of her car, eyes bright and lips pursed. She slammed the door, then rolled down a window. “Alright, Peter. We’ll talk soon,” she said, then she revved the old engine and drove away.

     I continued to stand in the quiet parking lot, reflecting on the evening. A subtle smile tugged at my lips and I jangled a handful of keys, tossing them from one hand to the other. I didn’t know everything about me and Annie-Rae, but I knew enough, more than I’d ever known before. I had stumbled upon something special, the beginning of what I truly wanted, a love story of my own. 

Cut off from Grace

When I accepted Jesus as my Savior I had no grid for what that really meant. I prayed the three-point prayer and was congratulated on my newfound life but otherwise, nothing changed…..except I suddenly felt the weight of all I was not. 

To me salvation meant to be good, to please God, to carry the badge of the Christian army, so to speak. When I made good decisions: showed up at church, volunteered, helped a friend, I felt more Christian. When I succumbed to temptation, I felt less Christian. And, so as a teenager I lived my life in a delicate teeter until I seemed to weigh heavily on the side of bad and could not see how God would redeem the mess I had made all while bearing His name!

Over the years God has continued to teach me about grace, about sanctification, how there is no condemnation in Jesus, and that my goodness on this earth does not determine His goodness towards me. I can remember my husband telling me this powerful quote that went something like this, “Don’t just read the Bible. Learn how to read the Bible.”  I learned about context, culture, and covenants. I learned about the offices of the apostle, prophet, teacher, pastor, and evangelists and their role in shaping the church. I realized how much of my faith was built upon religion and performance, and then, how much Jesus despised those very things.

For so long I’ve wanted to write the simplest explanation of the gospel. What do I wish someone would have told me? The more I’ve contemplated what to include, the more I’ve realized it should be a book. Then I remembered that it is already a book...a very good book written by the wonder that is Paul Krismanits, and it is called Religionless.

If you are interested in my rendition, a brief summation of how to know Jesus without religion, I’m going to attempt to pull this off.

I become uneasy when Christians lash out against the gay community, as without fail someone will come to their defense with, “Well, Leviticus says not to eat shellfish. I notice you eat shrimp while condemning homosexuals!” First of all, there should be no condemning of people groups (hang with me here because I love the Bible and this isn’t going to take a turn to heresy). What I am trying to communicate is that God is a God of covenants. There are eight covenants in scripture: Edenic, Adamic, Nohaic, Abrahamic, Mosaic, Land, Davidic, and finally, the New Covenant, which is what we operate in now. The book of Leviticus was written for the Mosaic Covenant. We are no longer in the Mosaic Covenant, which is what makes the Leviticus reference a result of ignorance. 

Let's look at the New Covenant:

“But now Jesus, our High Priest, has been given a ministry that is far superior to the old priesthood, for he is the one who mediates for us a far better covenant with God, based on better promises....If the first covenant would have been faultless, there would have been no need for a second covenant to replace it. But when God found fault with the people, he said:

“The day is coming says the Lord when I will make a new covenant with the people of Israel and Judah. The covenant will not be like the one I made with their ancestors where I took them by the hand and lead them out of the land of Egypt. They did not remain faithful to my covenant, so I turned my back on them, says the Lord. But this is the new covenant I will make with the people of Israel on that day, says the Lord:

‘I will put my laws in their minds and I will write them on their hearts. I will be their God and they will be my people. And they will not need to teach their neighbors, nor will they need to teach their relatives saying, “You should know the Lord.” For everyone, from the least to the greatest, will know me already. And I will forgive their wickedness, and I will never again remember their sins.’

When God speaks of a “new” covenant, it means he has made the first one obsolete. It is now out of date and will soon disappear.” Hebrews 8:6

Basically the New Covenant abolishes the law (or rather, the responsibility to adhere to it, as Jesus’s death fulfilled what the law required), it guarantees forgiveness of sins, is inclusive of all nationalities (non-Jews have been grafted in), and we have the incredible privilege to know the Lord personally, with Jesus as our mediator. In the older covenants, sacrifices would have been made by the mediator or priest in place of the people. Jesus became the high priest and was the final sacrifice atoning for all sin.

The main point is: Jesus’s blood changed everything.

“First Christ said, “You did not want animal sacrifices or sin offerings or burnt offerings or other offerings for sin, nor were you pleased by them….Then he said, “Look, I have come to do your will.” He cancels the first covenant in order to put the second into effect. For God’s will was for us to be made holy by the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, once for all of time.” Hebrews 10: 8-10

There is so much available to the New Covenant believer. For one, we have access to the throne of God (Hebrews 10:19). We worship with our lives, not in ritual (1 Corinthians 10:31). We rest every day in Christ, not just on the Sabbath (Hebrews 4:7). Most profound of all, our obedience to right living isn’t indicative of our salvation, only our faith is.

Sometimes that messes people up. No one believes grace can be that insanely gracious. But, it is. Jesus’s blood is that effective.

But, hold on, people. We gotta back up to Romans.

“Well, then, should we keep on sinning so that God can show us more and more of his wonderful grace? Of course not! Since we have died to sin, how can we continue to live in it? Or have you forgotten that when you were joined in Christ Jesus in baptism, we joined him in his death? For we died and were buried with Christ by baptism. And just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glorious power of the Father, now we may also live new lives….we know that our old sinful selves were crucified with Christ so that sin might lose its power on our lives. We are no longer slaves to sin.” Romans 6:1-6

New Covenant believers should not be in sin. WE ARE NOT SINNERS. 

Romans says the Law reveals our sin, but if the law is obsolete….and we aren’t sinners….what is sin?

Here’s the kicker: Mosaic Law is obsolete, but the New Covenant has its own set of laws. Notice how Jesus never mentions the ten commandments. (I know, I am poking all of you. Hang in there.)

This scripture may pop into your mind, but actually, Jesus is referring to the Old Covenant here:

"Jesus declared, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’All the Law and the Prophets depend on these two commandments.” Matthew 22:37-40

Allow me to introduce you to the New Covenant Law:

“And this is his commandment: We must believe in the name of his son, Jesus Christ, and love one another, just as he commanded us. Those who obey God’s commandments remain in fellowship with him, and he with them. And we know he lives in us because the Spirit he gave us lives in us.” 1 John 3:22-24

How did Jesus command us to love?

"So now I am giving you a new commandment: Love each other. Just as I have loved you, you should love each other.  Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples.” John 13:34-35

Did you spot the difference between the old covenant and new covenant law? 

In the old covenant we love others as we love ourselves. 
In the new covenant, we love others as Jesus loves us. He raises the stakes!

So, here we have it, the two laws of the New Covenant:

Faith (Hebrews 3-27-28) and Love (1 Corinthians 13).

Now, please do not misunderstand me. Holiness is non-negotiable.

But, here is what happens in salvation:

1) We receive salvation by faith.

2) We are forgiven of our sins.

3) We become filled with the Holy Spirit.

So, even though we don’t have 500 moral laws, we literally have the Spirit of God living inside of us and trust me, He deeply cares about sanctification.

Our obedience isn’t as connected to law as it is to abiding with the Spirit of God.

“The law of Moses was unable to save us because of the weakness of our sinful nature. So God did what the law could not do. He sent his own son in a body like the bodies we sinners have. And in that body God declared an end to sin’s control over us by giving his Son as a sacrifice for our sins. He did this so that the just requirement of the law would be fully satisfied for us who no longer follow our sinful nature but instead follow the Spirit. Those who are dominated by the sinful nature think about sinful things, but those who are controlled by the Holy Spirit think about the things that please the Spirit. So letting the sinful nature control your mind leads to death. But letting the Spirit control your mind leads to life and peace.” Romans 3: 6-8

“But you are not controlled by your sinful nature. You are controlled by the Spirit if you have the Spirit of the living God in you (And remember that those who do not have the Spirit of Christ living in them do not belong to him at all)….Therefore, dear brothers and sisters, you have no obligation to do what your sinful nature urges you to do. For if you live by its dictates you will die. But if through the power of the Spirit you put to death the deeds of your sinful nature you will live. For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God.” Romans 3: 9-14

Here is what I want to set up, ultimately, in a very incomplete summation:

There are two ways to respond to Jesus: Religion or relationship.

Religion is equated to rules.

Relationship is equated to abiding.

There is enormous dichotomies between living from the Spirit and living from the sinful nature (which no longer controls us):

“So I say, let the Holy Spirit guide your lives. Then you won’t be doing what your sinful nature craves. The sinful nature wants to do evil, which is just the opposite of what the Spirit wants. And the Spirit gives us desires that are the opposite of what the sinful nature desires. These two forces are constantly fighting each other, so you are not free to carry out your good intentions. But when you are directed by the Spirit, you are not under obligation to the law of Moses. When you follow the desires of your sinful nature, the results are very clear: sexual immorality, impurity, lustful pleasures, idolatry, sorcery, hostility, quarreling, jealousy, outbursts of anger, selfish ambition, dissension, division, envy, drunkenness, wild parties, and other sins like these. Let me tell you again, as I have before, that anyone living that sort of life will not inherit the Kingdom of God.

But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these things!

Those who belong to Christ Jesus have nailed the passions and desires of their sinful nature to his cross and crucified them there.” Galatians 5:16-25

Now, if you hear anything, receive anything, this next point is what compelled me to write this blog

“So Christ has truly set us free. Now make sure that you stay free, and don’t get tied up again in slavery to the LAW.” Galatians 5:1

“For if you are trying to make yourselves right with God by keeping the law, you have been CUT OFF from Christ. You have fallen away from God’s grace!” Galatians 5:4

I added emphasis to these two scriptures because FOR REAL, the church spends so much time holding a flashlight to sin, which has been dealt with on the cross. And, yet, if we try to carry out the law as a means of relating to God, we are literally cut off from grace.

I am tempted to quote the entire book of Galatians here.

Okay, allow me this one:

“Let me ask you this one question: Did you receive the Holy Spirit by obeying the law of Moses? Of course not! You received the Spirit because you believed the message you heard about Christ. How foolish can you be? After starting your new lives in the Spirit, why are you now trying to become perfect by your own human effort? Have you experienced so much for nothing? Surely it was not in vain, was it?

I ask you again, does God give you the Holy Spirit and work miracles among you because you obey the law? Of course not! It is because you believe the message you heard about Christ.” Galatians 3: 2-

My point is, obedience alone is not justification.

We belong to God because of faith, because we have given our lives to something we can’t see. God requires faith, rewards faith, and is attracted to it.

When Jesus stakes his claim on our lives, we become consumed with the call to love.

Not perform for people. Not conform to rules.

Our lives become transformed by grace, which is totally free. You do nothing to earn it besides simply believe.

In grace, you become FREE.

FREEDOM...to sin?

“Don’t use your freedom to satisfy your sinful nature. Instead, use your freedom to serve one another in love.” Galatians 5:13

The price he paid was for love. That’s it.

Yes, I was inspired to write this because of the back-biting that occurred on Lauren Daigle’s Instagram. Christians attacked her clothing, her decision to perform on a secular media platform, the fact that she didn’t say the name of Jesus, and many accused her of sin.

But, let me tell you about sin. It exists outside of grace, which is cut off when we attempt to achieve our own righteousness. When we point out the unrighteousness in another, the speck in their eye, Jesus warns us to remove the log in our own. (Mathew 7:5)

Grace is ushered in by faith. It’s so simple it’s almost scandalous.

I wonder how much longer churches will continue to have children memorize the ten commandments without teaching them about this God that is the embodiment of love, that sends His Spirit to inhabit our bodies so that we are empowered to live righteous lives. Nothing else is going to cut it.

If you’ve ever experienced shame, it’s religion. If you’ve ever invoked shame on another, it’s religion. Get it out of your life.

When you really get into the nitty-gritty of the New Covenant, it’s message is clear: Love God and love people.

And, over and over, Paul issues a warning: Stop returning to the old Covenant that God didn’t even like! It didn’t work! It wasn’t enough!

Well, I feel I’ve exasperated my dear readers. There is so much more. The Bible is rich with instruction. Also, there are probably holes interspersed throughout this because I can’t write a dissertation on sin and grace, this was just meant as an invitation.

Peer into the motives of your own heart. Are you trying to earn grace? Or, are you living in simple abandon to it?

Have you ever heard the Holy Spirit speak? Jesus says His sheep will know His voice. (John 10:27-28)

Recently I had a vision of myself in a wide-open green pasture. Jesus was next to me, dressed as a shepherd. He looked at me and said, “There are no fences on your life. But, follow the Shepherd.”

The closer we live in relationship to Father God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit, the more freedom we will experience. With our freedom, we choose Him, we love others.

Sometimes he leads us places that seem crazy, and again the actual gospel and American Christianity seem to diverge. Many of the foolish things of this world are actually God. (1Corinthians 1:27)

 If we want to be free from religion, we must join an accurate understanding of the Bible (which embodies context and culture) with communion and interaction to the Spirit of God. 

"By their fruit you will recognize them. Do people pick grapes from thornbushes, or figs from thistles?17 Likewise, every good tree bears good fruit, but a bad tree bears bad fruit. 18 A good tree cannot bear bad fruit, and a bad tree cannot bear good fruit. 19 Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire. 20 Thus, by their fruit you will recognize them

21 “Not everyone who says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one who does the will of my Father who is in heaven. 22 Many will say to me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?’ 23 Then I will tell them plainly, ‘I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers!’

24 “Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. 25 The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.26 But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. 27 The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”

28 When Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were amazed at his teaching, 29 because he taught as one who had authority, and not as their teachers of the law." Matthew 7:16-29

Perspective Shift in Marriage

 I don’t write on marriage often. Many times my process in marriage is deeply personal, because what else in this life, besides parenting, fashions itself to unravel your comfort zones and spotlight insecurities? Who wants to talk about that? Not me! Let’s talk about breakthrough and wisdom and God secrets! That’s my philosophy!

But, God- He keeps inviting me into His wisdom for my marriage and often it’s so simple, yet so opposite of how I approach prayer and relationships. So, here’s a recent nugget of truth God deposited in my heart that shifted my perspective.

Several weeks ago I was sitting in a garden at dawn. The rain was lightly pattering the tin roof that I sat beneath and my heart began to expand with gratitude towards my Creator. He loves me. The sudden revelation seemed to take root in a deeper way than I’d known before and all I could do was sit alone (a true rarity) and cry. Then Paul joined me. He appreciated the surroundings and sentiment of my experience but began talking about hope, how hope was so difficult for him to grab onto anymore. He was tired, worn down, and began asking if God even cared about our lives. Just seconds before, a simple contentment had led me to tears, and the dichotomy of Paul’s doubt and pain was like sandpaper to my softened heart. Instantly I called him out so that he became afraid to enter vulnerability, which led us into a continued debacle of his view, “It’s okay to feel hard things and express them,” and my view, “Well, of course it is...as long as those hard things are not outright lies!” And, around and around we went until both of us were hurting and not speaking.

I know that I am not Paul's Holy Spirit. I’ve been married long enough to know that. I can remember an older mentor of mine encouraging me to drop Paul off at the throne of God when I’m at the end of what I can control, which is basically myself. That has been a wonderful tool, allowing me to let go and reconcile even when I wasn’t ready to or didn’t feel a situation was fully resolved. This last argument was no different. I went to God and in my mind, I saw myself surrendering fully. In my prayer time later, I began asking God to prune Paul- all of the rejection he’s experienced, the orphaned heart, the fear of failure and what I perceived as ingratitude. I guess you could say my truest prayer was, “Holy Spirit….get ‘em!” I felt I was seeing clearly on the issue, and I didn't feel bitter, but its a good thing I wasn’t finished praying! Sometimes I stop with my own words, “Do this, do that...thank you, amen.” I don’t give a voice to the Father. Thankfully I made space for discourse, and the gentle voice of God whispered to my heart, “Paul...my humble servant. So strong and enduring. He is only afraid, but fear has met its match in my love. So, when you pray, ask that Paul would experience greater depths of my love. Ask that His heart would be wide open to me. Ask that he would experience tangible grace. Do not ask that I would limit my outpouring, for his breakthrough of healing could very well come through a deep longing answered.”

God said the final sentence because in the earlier prayer, I felt ashamed I prayed so often for Paul’s desires to be met. I thought, “No wonder God hasn’t given him the desires of his heart. Dude’s got problems!!! I’ll pray for his problems.”

But, God, He thinks and moves so differently than my human mind. Repentance is born of God’s kindness. Fear is removed in perfect love. So, pray for blessing, God says. Pray for a greater capacity of receiving love.

Then I had a picture of a wilted bush. I understood that it represented a broken piece of Paul’s heart. Then I heard my prayer over the sickly plant, “PRUNE HIM!” Again the gentle voice of the Father reminded me, “I don’t prune a weak bush.” There is a time and place for pruning, and it’s when we’ve been in a season of refreshing and growth. Not when we’re hurting.

Isn’t He good????

Paul and I reconciled as soon as I communicated the voice of the Father to him. I could hardly wait to read him my journal. “He loves you! He loves you so much!”

Last week we had the opportunity to attend a conference in Los Angeles where Paul and I both experienced a refreshing time with Jesus. More of God's love filled our hearts, and Paul's hope was restored in full. 

The next time Paul and I found ourselves in a disagreement, I simply prayed quietly, “Love him, Lord. Break into his heart and pour in your love. Remove fear from our hearts, remove fear from our conversation. Help us speak truth in love.”

I’m so grateful for the voice of the Father, the still, small voice that speaks through the storm and beckons us to quiet our hearts and hear truth. So much of manipulation and control, outbursts, escaping- all the coping mechanisms, are born of fear. And, we don’t need to be pruned, we need to be known and loved.  

My "Yes" to God

Yesterday I was sitting in my bed, an open journal before me. I was reflecting on the will of God for my life versus the freedom that He allows me to walk in, feeling conflicted as to what was right. Sometimes living for Jesus is full of tension, and that is why faith was never about rules, but a relationship.

Sometimes I feel so terrified of missing it that I just sit and wait. On one hand, waiting can be wise. But waiting with fear as the fuel can waste away a perfectly good life. So yesterday I sat, the tension in me and all around me. My heart cry is always, “Just tell me what to do.” And, it seems in these moments of agonizing vulnerability, when I could really use a clear answer, that He becomes a silent God.

It frustrates and fascinates me. God tells me the quickest ways to get around town. He speaks to me while I do the dishes. He gives me clues about my kid’s hearts when they are withdrawn or hurting. He tells me how to pray for my husband. But, when I really need an answer, Nada.

Typically this is when I am tempted by human wisdom. I’ll make a nice and practical pros and cons list, or I’ll start thinking about money or time and overall what my capacity is to carry what I feel He is calling me to do. Yesterday I found myself in this place and all at once I said, “This thing is hard...” I just stayed on that thought. Then I thought, “It’s actually impossible...”

Of course, God’s quiet voice invaded my space, “Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean it isn’t me.”

Now, I don’t mean to say conclusively that all hard things are from God and all simple things are human, but typically God does not call us to anything that can be done in our own strength. And, if I’m honest with myself, often I know exactly what God wants me to do, I just spend days or years wrestling with the concept because I remain impressed by the largeness of how hard it will be.

Even recently I was struggling with whether or not I should have more children. I feel very certain what God wants me to do. Yet all I can think about is how hard it will be to have another baby, how little sleep I already get, how overwhelmed I feel. The truth is, there is plenty of freedom to acknowledge my inadequacies and the fact that I have five other children to care for. Personally, though, I’ve felt a sense time and time again that while there is freedom to do what I want, avoiding something because it is inconvenient or difficult is not a valid excuse in the kingdom. If I don’t want more children, awesome. But, if I want more children but deny that urge because it’s hard, let’s just say I never start my decision-making process there. Several weeks ago I was reflecting on all of this and exploded to Paul, “Why do we have to do things the hard way? I don’t understand. Whyyyy?” It’s annoying to constantly be stretched, then fight and find stability, and just then feel a gentle tug from the Father to a new level of being stretched. Ouch. Yet I’ve made a decision to never say no to God because something is hard. I may tantrum and complain and write nasty notes in my journal. I may sit in my bed and bargain with the Bible opened to a verse on trust. Eventually, I surrender. Sometimes my life settles into normal and I get the sense God just wanted my heart. Then other times, I’m standing at my kitchen sink in Redding five years ago and God says, “Get ready. You’re moving.”

Years ago I wrote a blog on the significant impact of the faith of one person, based on Romans 6:18, "...But because one other person obeyed God, many will be made righteous." It challenged me then to be a person that says yes to God, no matter the cost. I believe the faith of one person can literally ignite a reformation and shift culture.

Lately, another revelation hit me as I read the story of the Roman officer in Matthew 8:5-13. Jesus was impressed by faith, like floored at the capacity this man had to trust God. This officer surprised God. I circled this story and wrote in the margin, “I want to impress God with my faith.” I want to be someone that makes the God of the universe stop in His tracks and say, “Wow. Okay, you can have exactly what you’ve believed for.”

I hope this is an honest blog, not just about my desire for extravagant faith, but about the wrestling process I often find myself in, the place between my yes and my humanity. I also want to be intentional to say that faith is not about living recklessly, but being recklessly surrendered to God. It’s a partnership. I’ve heard stories of families selling everything and arriving in foreign cities with their children and the clothes on their backs. God met them in extraordinary ways, paving their path safely one step at a time. Then, I’ve heard the flip side...the same exact story, but the family ends up with nothing, scrounging their way back home. The latter story makes me shudder. It’s the reason for my wrestle. God, don’t let me miss it.

At the same time, I think more people miss out on an incredible God adventure because they remain in fear of failure instead of seeing failure as a catalyst for growth. The truth is, the Bible is full of stories of people who were obedient to God and they still failed or didn't fulfill their mission. And yet, that still is not an excuse to abandon the promise [See Hebrews 11].

 Ah, well, enjoy my musings on life and faith and all the in-between mess of trust. I just want God to take my pain, my fear, my inadequacies and make something beautiful for His glory, because I can promise that any and all fruit in my life isn’t because I’ve done anything on my own, I’ve just said yes to Him over and over and over and over. It’s been so hard at times, yet I wouldn’t take it back, and that’s why I sit before Him in agony and anticipation and say with confidence, “You can have my yes again.”

Creativity in Process

     

Recently I’ve had a goal of open dialogue with my children, engaging their hearts, hungry for honest answers. Children are unfiltered in the best sort of way, depending on what they are asked.

I like to ask what sorts of qualities make them unique, what they feel God is doing in our city, in our church, in their hearts. Otherwise it is all too easy to skate on through the day, doing life right at their side, hardly seeing them. How is that even possible? It baffles me. Being intentional is key, not just harboring good intention in my heart. [This chapter in my life entitled, "Things it Took me a Decade of Parenting to Figure Out.]

So, yesterday I asked my wise 10-year-old son, “What does the world need more of?” Without hesitation, he said, “Me!” I loved his unrehearsed answer so much. Even this morning it was percolating in my heart. I was challenged to say the same about myself, “the world needs more of ME!” Except I don’t often feel that way, at least not for now. I look in the mirror and see someone agonizingly in process, at war with perfection, on a trajectory towards wholeness. And, yet deep in my heart, I know my son’s answer is right. The world needs more of each of us, exactly as we are.

I remember a friend telling me that when I was honest about my process in a room full of people, it shifted something in the atmosphere that caused others to share. I was like, “Um...I don’t want that gift. That’s not a good gift.” Vulnerability is hard! Why is this my gift? However, as I’ve begun to embrace it, I've seen fruit in my life and others. So, here is what I want to say: I am worthy of love exactly as I am, and so are you. Whoever you are, wherever you are...you matter.

Recently I walked out of my house, an utter disaster after a full week of all five of my children having the throw-up bug, along with my husband and I. A coffee date with a friend was on the calendar for the morning. I stood in my kitchen and took in the full sink of dishes, the laundry pile that was mounting, the table stacked high with papers and I smiled with the thought, “I love myself.” Right smack dab in the middle of my mess. Why? Because I do. Because God does. Because this isn’t my stopping place, and because community matters more in the moment than a tidy house. I can't afford to get my identity from performance (my productivity) when actually it comes from the fact that I'm a human and I have value. As I've begun to love myself in process, I don't stay where I'm at. Instead, it causes me to bravely look at all areas of my life and acknowledge any shortcomings free of shame. Then I can actually grow. 

This idea broke through to me as my daughter and I drew pictures together. Am I talented artist? Not by any respectable artist’s standards. But, I love to draw so I do it.

 My daughter erased her creation over and over and over until at last, it caught my eye. I started with, “Isn’t drawing fun?” She said, “No, it’s not. It’s very stressful for me.” Now, my daughter has more natural talent in her pinkie finger than I do in all of my body! She continued with, “Doesn’t it upset you?” I said, “No, it doesn’t because my goal isn’t perfection. My goal is to create something that only I can create. No one else in the world can draw this flower like I can.” I literally amazed myself at that moment because I realized how far I'd come. Now, my daughter considered my answer and continued to copy a photo meticulously. I kept happily scribbling away. I’m not downplaying excellence and perseverance because that is important to progress, but my point is, creative expression is not about perfection as much as giving the world what only you can create. Giving the world more of YOU. The challenge is often waiting until you’ve achieved perfection to do that, and it’s just not possible. Don’t wait for perfection. Produce and create something only YOU can.

Last week the kids and I read the story of Watt’s Tower. Have you heard it? An Italian Immigrant had a dream of creating “Something Big.” He worked six days a week and long hours at a tile factory and began to save scraps. Then, when he’d spot other items most considered trash, he’d take it home. Over time he mixed concrete to create sculptures from his trash, some towering to 90 feet! Most people considered him crazy, not able to speak clear English, treasuring junk. But, his towers made of trash became works of art, a local landmark moved into the city. Now, he is considered a genius. 

He called his work, “Something Big,” because that is what he always wanted to create. What if he would have seen himself as everyone else did? Poor immigrant. Babbling fool. Unimportant. I’m not sure how he saw himself, but regardless, he didn’t care. He still created.

So, I meditate on these stories of people who pressed on despite their process, people who had every excuse in the world to live a quiet life without expressing themselves. Not that everyone must have a Magnum Opus (shameless Charlotte’s Web reference), but the point is, you are the Magnum Opus. You are worth exploring the depths of your own heart and expressing it in some way, and this ability is intricately connected to your ability to love yourself. I think of the brilliant bumper sticker that never ceases to put a smile on my face, “The Earth without Art is just Eh.” And, art is not just paint-to-paper, it’s creative expression and each person on this planet is brimming with it. Why? Because the Creator is and you bear His image, His brilliant, fearless image. I love that when God created He looked at His creation and was like, “This is good.” Now, I realize He is perfection itself but I wouldn’t necessarily call everything he created my cup of tea (spiders? FREAKING, WHY???????). But, He liked it.

So, I give you permission to like what you create because it’s your own, to love yourself in the imperfection. The world needs more of you, Friend. It needs more of me, too. Show me what you got and I promise to love it because I love you, because you matter.