They say a picture’s worth a thousand words. Well sometimes, a picture leaves you speechless. That was the case this morning when my eyes caught a picture. The picture was not meant to be shown, but for just a few seconds I saw it – sweet, precious, heartbreaking. I think God Himself kept my eyes dry until I was on 79 driving home.
However, the significance of those few seconds was not in the emotion the picture invoked, but in the message God was speaking to me through it. His message was not new, or even shocking. I had been in this place before. God was saying “Raquel, you have lost focus. You’re priorities are all messed up.”
The thing is, I know what Godly priorities are, but for the past three weeks I have not lived it. My life has been absolutely consumed with only two things: work and school.
The issue is not in the hours spent. I rarely work more than 40 hours a week. My homework is insane and it does feel like if I am not working or sleeping I am doing schoolwork – but I am sure that is just how it feels. I mean, my parents stopped by last night for about an hour and I did sit on the couch and chat with them.
But for the last three weeks my brain has had room for only work and school. It seems I only have the mental energy for those two things and if I am not thinking of one of them, my brain is fried like a dead cell phone battery. Ashamedly, I have spent no quality time with the Lord – only quick prayers here and there. As I look at my desk, I see papers from my business management project covering the desk. Way in the back, buried under schoolwork, sits my Bible – untouched in three weeks. The only Scripture I have read has been in the daily devotional that my co-workers husband emails each day. Then I wonder why it takes such effort to engage in worship on Sunday morning. I wonder why the words of the sermon feel like droplets of water on desert ground. It’s because they are.
How did I get like this? Especially when I know better. When I thought about it, the sin nature in me wanted to immediately blame something or someone else. I didn’t have a particular person in mind. I didn’t even think about the company I work for. I thought about society as a whole and I was tempted to place the blame there.
I thought back to 1998 – the year I got my first office job. I went to a temp agency and they placed me at an investment firm called H.L. Zeve Associates. It was a small firm with three owners, an executive assistant, and four “assistant portfolio managers”, including me. I worked there for 5 years. I was a good worker – evidenced by the fact that my leaving salary was $10,000 higher than my starting salary. In that particular company, the hours were 8-4, still with an hour for lunch. Each day, for five years, I came in around 7:45 and left at 4. So did everyone else, including the owners. But what I remember about those days is… my brain did not think about work from 4:05pm until 7:45 am the next day. It was not even on my radar. It was the same for everyone else. The owners did other things. One coached wrestling at a local high school and was required to be at the high school at 4:30 every day. The other owner coached some other sport. Both owners had five kids. They didn’t just put food on their family’s tables, they were physically present with their families to eat it with them each evening. Back then, that was the norm. I know I sound like I am a senior citizen when I say “back then” but it is true. It is even evident in the music of that time period. Remember the song “Nine to Five”? How about “Morning Train’? That song says that the woman’s husband took a morning train, worked from nine to five and took another home to find her waiting for him. There is another song called “Home Fires Burning”. Some male country singer (and I only know because my folks listened to it) sang these lyrics: “the boss tells me I am late again, he can’t stand it when I only grin. He’s got me 8 hours – she’s got me after that. And I can’t wait till quittin time cause she keeps the home fires burning….”
Those days are gone. In my last company, everyone left “when the work was done”. I remember a woman who got hired there at the same time I did. She was returning to the working force now that her youngest daughter was in school full time. Her husband had his own business. He was able to be there when the kids got off the school bus, but he needed his wife home by 6 so that he could meet with his clients. Her husband and children suffered when she couldn’t get home on time. One day she told the boss that it was not working out for her. She said she didn’t mind working late or putting in extra time, but when she left her house in the morning she had to know the exact time she would return. She couldn’t find out at 4 that she could not leave at 5. Long story short – she doesn’t work there anymore. After I had been there several years, they hired a new financial advisor. This guy was awesome. He had been in the World Trade Center on 9/11. He moved away from New York to be able to prioritize his family. He left the office between 5-6 each day, but after a month he told me that even though he was physically at home with his family, he wasn’t mentally with them. Work had taken so much from him mentally that he had nothing to left to give to anything or anyone else. He said all he could do was veg in front of the tv and he was snippy with his wife and kids. This man, who I admire greatly, left the firm and started his own company.
That guy’s story is the norm these days. Even if you only work 40 hours, work seems to zap all your energy. Work gets the best – everything else gets the rest. People will say “well, that is just how it is” or “if that is what it takes to get the work done, then that is what it takes”. They may even kick up how much money one is getting paid. Newsflash folks – the people at my first company made six figures. The non-owners made high five figures. They ran a successful, profitable business that gave impeccable client service – and they did it in a 40 hour week with no mental overload. Those folks are all retired now – and sold the business. I recently spoke with one of those guys. I called Steve to see how he and his now grown children were doing. We talked about society and I asked him how he managed to be a successful business man and a good Christian, husband, and father. He said to me: “Raquel, each business has “busy seasons”. For instance accountants are busy in April and may need some overtime. But if you consistently have to work 50 + hours a week to get the work done, you are either mismanaged, understaffed, or you don’t work efficiently enough or your business unit as a whole is not efficient and does not have good time management skills”. I agree Steve. Many businesses, including churches, will have 2-3 hours meetings to discuss something that could be decided in 10 minutes, and then they wonder why people are still at their desks at 6:30pm.
Let me clarify something. I am not saying that we should never put in extra time at work. When I was about 3 years into my 5 years at my first job, one of my co-workers had a major surgery and was out for two months. I did half of her job and mine which meant 10 hour days and half Saturdays. It was temporary – not a lifestyle. But sometimes when folks hear me talk about society, they think I am advocating being a clock watcher. Like “oops, its 5:02, I can’t be at work”. I have never been that way nor do I feel that it’s right.
But just like in the Garden of Eden, the enemy is a deceiver. He is known for taking a Biblical principle and twisting it slightly or taking it too far. See the Bible says to work as if you are working for God and not for man. (Colossian 3:23). That means when a Christian goes to work, he is supposed to do his absolute best and work as unto the Lord.
Today, we have taken that concept too far and we have gone from working as unto the Lord – to working as if it’s our Lord.
Well – that was a long rant. And not even the point of this blog post. But these are the things I was rehearsing in my head when God told me my priorities are whacked out. I wanted to blame society and say “well that is just the world I live in”. It is the world I live in, but we heard the Scripture today… Romans 12:2 – “Do not conform to the pattern of this world…”
So when that blame game didn’t work, I started to harp on school. School is a source of regret and resentment for me. I regret that I did not go to college after high school and I resent that I have to go now. When I graduate (the day before I enter the nursing home), I will have taken approximately 40 classes – only 8 of them will actually help me in my field. This is nothing but a $70,000 line on my resume. It’s also a blow to my pride because I am unable to make the straight As I made in high school. However, God has shown me time and time again that this is His will for me right now.
Obviously, neither work nor school is my problem. I am my problem. I allow work and school to take all of my mental energy. I get caught in this cycle. When my energy is zapped, I get cranky. When I get cranky, I sleep more. When I sleep more, I don’t spend time with the Lord. When I don’t spend time with the Lord, I starve spiritually which makes me more cranky. It also makes me lose focus.
This morning, that quick glance at a picture caused me to refocus. I remembered a sermon I heard several years ago. The preacher said: “in this life, there are only two things that really matter – your relationship with God, and your relationships with others. Because they are the only things that are eternal.” I realized that every thing that has taken my time, energy and focus in these past few weeks are meaningless in the view of eternity. When I stand before God, He won’t ask me about my business management project. He won’t ask me if my spreadsheets were done on time. He will ask about my relationship with Jesus and my relationships with the people He put in my life.
Needless to say that does not mean I shouldn’t go to work. I still have bills to pay. I can’t call off work tomorrow because I am focusing on relationships. And I still have to go to school and do this project for class. But I can’t allow those things to consume me nor take first priority.
So I began to contemplate how to do this. Its one thing to know I need to do something, it’s another thing to actually do it. I realized that I actually have a wonderful example. I have a coworker on my team who is a Christian. Her husband also works for our company, but in a different division. They have a 1 year old daughter. My co-worker is very good at her job. Very good at it. But if I look at her life this is what I see. She is a Christian, a wife, a mother, and a business analyst – IN THAT ORDER. She gives work her best during work hours, but when the clock says her time belongs to her husband and daughter, that is where her time goes. She will check back in with work when she needs to, like she did with me last Friday, but her priorities are straight and her life more peaceful than mine. The funny thing is… I am not a wife, nor a mother. All I have to do is put the Christian before the business analyst and student. This cannot be that hard. LOL.
So it’s Sunday evening. A new week and a new chance is quickly approaching. My short term goal is to get up early each morning and spend quality time with the Lord. Even if I have to sleep on the couch to ensure I don’t oversleep – I need to put the Lord first each morning. I need to read the Word – even if I am behind in reading my textbook. Then, I want to go through my day with my focus on Him and the people in my life, even if I have to spend in my day in Microsoft Excel. My long term goal is to get back into a small group or the Beth Moore ladies Bible study – even if its means I earn a C in all my college classes. I think I would rather graduate a C student then graduate with high honors at the expense of what is really important.
What’s really important. I’ve known all along, but I lost focus. Thankfully, the Lord got my attention – with a picture worth way more than a thousand words.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Sunday, September 15, 2013
There Is Still Garbage on the Front Steps
The blog is going to confuse most folks. While still keeping to the theme of my blog, lessons learned along the way, I am going to write this one a little differently. I am going to write an analogy – almost an allegory, but not quite. When I was young, when I had a hard time understanding something, my mom would make an analogy to something I did understand. It worked well in my childhood and still does. I think that is why God sometimes uses it to help me see things clearly.
This past week was not one of my favorites. It happens. Some days (or weeks) are better than others. When I went to bed on Friday night, I could not see the forest for the trees. I had no idea what happened, what went wrong, what I did wrong… I was just lost. So I prayed that the Lord would show me His viewpoint. Shortly afterwards I fell asleep. Saturday morning I woke up and before I was even alert enough to think, this analogy came to me:
My apartment is one of four apartments in an old duplex house. The house has two first floor apartments and two second floor apartments. Each resident has their own private entrance, but the two people (including myself) who live on the second floor have a door that opens to a flight of stairs that then leads into our apartments.
To be clear – the story I am about to share is fictional.
So once upon a time, (lol) I come home one day to find that someone put their garbage in my stairwell. Strange. Why would someone do that? But it was only a little bit of garbage and I didn’t know who did it so I clean it up and walked up to my apartment. As the days went on, each day there was more and more garbage being piled in my stairwell. So I called my landlord. He said he would look into it. Within a few hours I had a sign on my door telling folks not to dump their garbage in my stairwell. It worked for awhile, but then the garbage began to pile up again. One day, I caught a few people in the act. It was the neighbors. Two different neighbors, one two houses down and one from across the street, were dumping their garbage in my stairwell. Additionally, they were dumping garbage in the stairwell of the other second floor apartment.
So obviously I went over to talk to these neighbors. I spoke kindly and asked them to please not do that anymore. They are kind in return and agree to stop. The next day, I came home to more garbage. The garbage is piled higher and higher and I can no longer to get to my apartment.
I call my landlord. He says – use the back door and back steps. Now my building does have a back door with a back stairwell, but it’s cumbersome. Tiny, narrow, winding steps – hard to navigate especially while carrying things. But it’s a way to get to my apartment. So I use the back door and successfully enter my apartment. But don’t I still have a problem? Even though I got to my apartment, there is garbage on my steps. It doesn’t belong there.
After I complain to the landlord again, he decides to bring a team of highly skilled workers to make the back steps less cumbersome. In just over a month, the back stairs are fast and comfortable and easy to navigate. I am grateful to my landlord and his skilled team. In the ease of climbing the back steps and in my gratitude, the garbage may not be my first thought – but there is still garbage on my steps.
The problem continues. One day, I come home to find the tenant from the other second floor apartment, cleaning his stairwell and throwing some of that garbage on to the pile in my stairwell. I spoke very sternly to him and said “I will not tolerate you throwing your garbage on my stairwell”. He snaps back. Shortly after that, my phone rings and it’s the landlord. He tells me I was too abrasive with my fellow tenant and I should be empathetic because every single day the man spends the first two hours of his evening cleaning his stairwell from all the garbage being piled there. Really? I told my landlord that the man has a choice. He chooses to spend 2 hours cleaning the stairwell rather than taking the back steps. The landlord replies, that it is his business. At this point, I am thoroughly confused. It is the man’s choice to clean the stairwell or use the back steps, but it becomes my business the moment he puts garbage in my stairwell.
So the landlord decides to make some changes. Instead of the easier to navigate back steps, the landlord decides to build me my own personal elevator. This elevator will operate at lightning speed. It will be heated in the winter and air conditioned in the summer. I will even have my own elevator operator that will help me carry my bags from the car to my door. That is wonderful. So kind of my landlord to do all that for me. See, even when we disagree, I do believe my landlord is a kind and caring individual that truly wants the best for his tenants.
But have we lost sight of something…. THERE IS STILL GARBAGE ON THE FRONT STEPS!!! By now the garbage is piled so high and bugs, animals and rodents have come. I am enjoying all the comforts of my new elevator and doorman – and man, I truly love them. But even while I sleep, I can hear the rodents scampering on the garbage on the steps.
This ends my fictitious story and the analogy God gave me on Saturday morning.
But the purpose was not for wild storytelling. This blog is about lessons learned. So I ask the Lord to show me through this analogy where I have done wrong, where others have done wrong, and what to do about it (and what not to do).
So let’s analyze this. What did I do wrong? How many of you were thinking way before I ended the story “why didn’t you call the police?”. Where I went wrong was I kept calling the landlord. The landlord did everything in his power to make my life easier, but he could not stop the neighbors because they are not his tenants. The police may be able to stop the neighbors from dumping garbage. But I am not sure, I am new to this area of town and I do not personally know how the police operate. I grew up in a town where the police were useless. My mentee lives in a town where the police are useless. So what does one do when police can’t make a wrong right? The next step is the magistrate. (I hear folks saying “duh”) Now the magistrate is not easy. It’s more than a phone call. It costs something. It costs time and money and stress and even possibly unwanted grief and publicity.
So what would you do? Would you pay the cost of the magistrate to eradicate the wrongdoing? Unfortunately, I know what many people would do. They would move.
And I truly believe it is that mentally that grieves the heart of God.
Because see, the reality is… if I move – wrong wins. If I move, I wave a while flag and run from the problem instead of fixing the problem. I may give up my elevator and doorman to live in a garbage free area, but the truth is – whether I am there or not – THERE IS STILL GARBAGE ON THE FRONT STEPS! And while that garbage may no longer affect me, it still affects others. And the stench has gone beyond the stairwell and is now overflowing into the street. The residents just say “it is what it is” and they adapt and live with the stench. Good either flees or becomes complacent and lives with it – and wrong wins.
I have seen this time and time again in many different ways. When I was a teenager, my mom had a stroke – her second one actually. While she was in the hospital, the nurses treated her poorly and did not properly attend to her. My dad kept trying to reason with them and ask them to do what my mom needed done, and each time they were nice and polite and promised to do their jobs – but they never did. One day I nearly flipped out – I started to leave the room to go speak abrasively to these nurses because obviously kindness didn’t work. My dad stopped me. He told me that if I flipped on them, they would treat my mom even worse when we weren’t there. He may have been right. So I did nothing. But once my mom was moved into rehab in another section of the hospital, my dad did nothing about those nurses – because it no longer affected his wife. Because my dad did nothing, how many other patients were mistreated? My dad was only concerned with his family but… THERE WAS STILL GARBAGE ON THE FRONT STEPS. And others suffered because my dad didn’t fight. Wrong won. Right lost.
My mentee lives in “bad” part of Pittsburgh. High crime rate – shootings almost every day. But it wasn’t always like that. It began as a good community. But when bad stuff first began to occur, the good got scared or fed up and left for greener pastures. Wrong won, Right lost. Today, when I hear people talk about that community or similar places and I hear them say “I am scared to go there”. My response is “well, what are doing about it?”. They usually look at me like I am nuts and say “well I just don’t go there”. Whether or not I speak my response my answer is the same – “then you are part of the problem”. By avoiding that area, you are saying that as long as it doesn’t affect you, then you don’t need to worry about it. You are actually handing the enemy a victory. He got the territory. He won. We have all heard that quote from Edmund Burke: “the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” That statement hold true no matter the severity of the wrong. From human atrocities like the Holocaust, to everyday occurrences like bullying on the schoolyard, wrong will win unless right stops it.
Lastly, but most importantly, I need to emphasize the importance of prayer. Now, I don’t mean it in the cop out way. Some folks will go the route of saying that we should just pray that God will deal with the garbage on the steps. Ultimately, He will. When we hear the sound of the trumpet, God will make all things right. But in the meantime, He has told us that we are His hands and feet. Where prayer is absolutely crucial is in that we need His guidance, wisdom, and protection. If I had been in better communication with Him last week, I might have heard him nudge me and say “the landlord can’t help – call the police.” Or He might have said “do nothing right now, wait until I say so and then take these steps.” If I would have talked to Him more often, He probably would have given me peace. Not a peace that says “the garbage is okay”, but a peace that would keep me calm while seeking wisdom on how to fight the garbage. But I know what God would not have told me. He would not tell me to accept the garbage and He would not tell me to move and make the garbage someone else’s problem.
So as a new week begins, I am calm. I am not angry or stressed – not even at the neighbors who keep throwing garbage on my stairs. I am not angry, but I also refuse to accept it. It is my goal to stay in close communication with the Lord. My prayer is that I see things through His eyes, ask Him for wisdom and direction, and try to live like Jesus would – knowing that Jesus is the Lion and the Lamb, so I must know when to baaaa and when to roar.
This past week was not one of my favorites. It happens. Some days (or weeks) are better than others. When I went to bed on Friday night, I could not see the forest for the trees. I had no idea what happened, what went wrong, what I did wrong… I was just lost. So I prayed that the Lord would show me His viewpoint. Shortly afterwards I fell asleep. Saturday morning I woke up and before I was even alert enough to think, this analogy came to me:
My apartment is one of four apartments in an old duplex house. The house has two first floor apartments and two second floor apartments. Each resident has their own private entrance, but the two people (including myself) who live on the second floor have a door that opens to a flight of stairs that then leads into our apartments.
To be clear – the story I am about to share is fictional.
So once upon a time, (lol) I come home one day to find that someone put their garbage in my stairwell. Strange. Why would someone do that? But it was only a little bit of garbage and I didn’t know who did it so I clean it up and walked up to my apartment. As the days went on, each day there was more and more garbage being piled in my stairwell. So I called my landlord. He said he would look into it. Within a few hours I had a sign on my door telling folks not to dump their garbage in my stairwell. It worked for awhile, but then the garbage began to pile up again. One day, I caught a few people in the act. It was the neighbors. Two different neighbors, one two houses down and one from across the street, were dumping their garbage in my stairwell. Additionally, they were dumping garbage in the stairwell of the other second floor apartment.
So obviously I went over to talk to these neighbors. I spoke kindly and asked them to please not do that anymore. They are kind in return and agree to stop. The next day, I came home to more garbage. The garbage is piled higher and higher and I can no longer to get to my apartment.
I call my landlord. He says – use the back door and back steps. Now my building does have a back door with a back stairwell, but it’s cumbersome. Tiny, narrow, winding steps – hard to navigate especially while carrying things. But it’s a way to get to my apartment. So I use the back door and successfully enter my apartment. But don’t I still have a problem? Even though I got to my apartment, there is garbage on my steps. It doesn’t belong there.
After I complain to the landlord again, he decides to bring a team of highly skilled workers to make the back steps less cumbersome. In just over a month, the back stairs are fast and comfortable and easy to navigate. I am grateful to my landlord and his skilled team. In the ease of climbing the back steps and in my gratitude, the garbage may not be my first thought – but there is still garbage on my steps.
The problem continues. One day, I come home to find the tenant from the other second floor apartment, cleaning his stairwell and throwing some of that garbage on to the pile in my stairwell. I spoke very sternly to him and said “I will not tolerate you throwing your garbage on my stairwell”. He snaps back. Shortly after that, my phone rings and it’s the landlord. He tells me I was too abrasive with my fellow tenant and I should be empathetic because every single day the man spends the first two hours of his evening cleaning his stairwell from all the garbage being piled there. Really? I told my landlord that the man has a choice. He chooses to spend 2 hours cleaning the stairwell rather than taking the back steps. The landlord replies, that it is his business. At this point, I am thoroughly confused. It is the man’s choice to clean the stairwell or use the back steps, but it becomes my business the moment he puts garbage in my stairwell.
So the landlord decides to make some changes. Instead of the easier to navigate back steps, the landlord decides to build me my own personal elevator. This elevator will operate at lightning speed. It will be heated in the winter and air conditioned in the summer. I will even have my own elevator operator that will help me carry my bags from the car to my door. That is wonderful. So kind of my landlord to do all that for me. See, even when we disagree, I do believe my landlord is a kind and caring individual that truly wants the best for his tenants.
But have we lost sight of something…. THERE IS STILL GARBAGE ON THE FRONT STEPS!!! By now the garbage is piled so high and bugs, animals and rodents have come. I am enjoying all the comforts of my new elevator and doorman – and man, I truly love them. But even while I sleep, I can hear the rodents scampering on the garbage on the steps.
This ends my fictitious story and the analogy God gave me on Saturday morning.
But the purpose was not for wild storytelling. This blog is about lessons learned. So I ask the Lord to show me through this analogy where I have done wrong, where others have done wrong, and what to do about it (and what not to do).
So let’s analyze this. What did I do wrong? How many of you were thinking way before I ended the story “why didn’t you call the police?”. Where I went wrong was I kept calling the landlord. The landlord did everything in his power to make my life easier, but he could not stop the neighbors because they are not his tenants. The police may be able to stop the neighbors from dumping garbage. But I am not sure, I am new to this area of town and I do not personally know how the police operate. I grew up in a town where the police were useless. My mentee lives in a town where the police are useless. So what does one do when police can’t make a wrong right? The next step is the magistrate. (I hear folks saying “duh”) Now the magistrate is not easy. It’s more than a phone call. It costs something. It costs time and money and stress and even possibly unwanted grief and publicity.
So what would you do? Would you pay the cost of the magistrate to eradicate the wrongdoing? Unfortunately, I know what many people would do. They would move.
And I truly believe it is that mentally that grieves the heart of God.
Because see, the reality is… if I move – wrong wins. If I move, I wave a while flag and run from the problem instead of fixing the problem. I may give up my elevator and doorman to live in a garbage free area, but the truth is – whether I am there or not – THERE IS STILL GARBAGE ON THE FRONT STEPS! And while that garbage may no longer affect me, it still affects others. And the stench has gone beyond the stairwell and is now overflowing into the street. The residents just say “it is what it is” and they adapt and live with the stench. Good either flees or becomes complacent and lives with it – and wrong wins.
I have seen this time and time again in many different ways. When I was a teenager, my mom had a stroke – her second one actually. While she was in the hospital, the nurses treated her poorly and did not properly attend to her. My dad kept trying to reason with them and ask them to do what my mom needed done, and each time they were nice and polite and promised to do their jobs – but they never did. One day I nearly flipped out – I started to leave the room to go speak abrasively to these nurses because obviously kindness didn’t work. My dad stopped me. He told me that if I flipped on them, they would treat my mom even worse when we weren’t there. He may have been right. So I did nothing. But once my mom was moved into rehab in another section of the hospital, my dad did nothing about those nurses – because it no longer affected his wife. Because my dad did nothing, how many other patients were mistreated? My dad was only concerned with his family but… THERE WAS STILL GARBAGE ON THE FRONT STEPS. And others suffered because my dad didn’t fight. Wrong won. Right lost.
My mentee lives in “bad” part of Pittsburgh. High crime rate – shootings almost every day. But it wasn’t always like that. It began as a good community. But when bad stuff first began to occur, the good got scared or fed up and left for greener pastures. Wrong won, Right lost. Today, when I hear people talk about that community or similar places and I hear them say “I am scared to go there”. My response is “well, what are doing about it?”. They usually look at me like I am nuts and say “well I just don’t go there”. Whether or not I speak my response my answer is the same – “then you are part of the problem”. By avoiding that area, you are saying that as long as it doesn’t affect you, then you don’t need to worry about it. You are actually handing the enemy a victory. He got the territory. He won. We have all heard that quote from Edmund Burke: “the only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.” That statement hold true no matter the severity of the wrong. From human atrocities like the Holocaust, to everyday occurrences like bullying on the schoolyard, wrong will win unless right stops it.
Lastly, but most importantly, I need to emphasize the importance of prayer. Now, I don’t mean it in the cop out way. Some folks will go the route of saying that we should just pray that God will deal with the garbage on the steps. Ultimately, He will. When we hear the sound of the trumpet, God will make all things right. But in the meantime, He has told us that we are His hands and feet. Where prayer is absolutely crucial is in that we need His guidance, wisdom, and protection. If I had been in better communication with Him last week, I might have heard him nudge me and say “the landlord can’t help – call the police.” Or He might have said “do nothing right now, wait until I say so and then take these steps.” If I would have talked to Him more often, He probably would have given me peace. Not a peace that says “the garbage is okay”, but a peace that would keep me calm while seeking wisdom on how to fight the garbage. But I know what God would not have told me. He would not tell me to accept the garbage and He would not tell me to move and make the garbage someone else’s problem.
So as a new week begins, I am calm. I am not angry or stressed – not even at the neighbors who keep throwing garbage on my stairs. I am not angry, but I also refuse to accept it. It is my goal to stay in close communication with the Lord. My prayer is that I see things through His eyes, ask Him for wisdom and direction, and try to live like Jesus would – knowing that Jesus is the Lion and the Lamb, so I must know when to baaaa and when to roar.
Saturday, August 17, 2013
Jesus on the Back Porch
I have wanted to write this blog for over a month now. It is a very difficult one to write. Sharing it requires me to be even more transparent than I am comfortable with - and I am pretty much an open book.
Also, this is going to be a little deeper spiritually than my usual blogs.
About a month ago, I was hanging out with a friend and doing a Bible study. This friend had been given a little booklet from a relative and the two of us were reading it. I thought that my friend would greatly benefit from this booklet, but God had other plans. Here it was me who needed it and as I read it out loud, it was all I could do to hold back sobs while I read. The sobs came later when I was alone, but it was a good cry - the cleansing, healing kind.
Apparently, this little booklet isn't new, but it was the first I had seen it. The booklet is titled "My Heart - Christ's Home" by Robert Boyd Munger. In order for this blog to make sense, I am going to have to quote it often. To differentiate between the authors words and my own thoughts, I will italicize the authors words.
From the title, you can gather that the book is about inviting Jesus into your heart and allowing Him to dwell there. The author illustrates this by talking about the different rooms in your heart - like the rooms in a home. He begins with Jesus knocking at the door of your heart (Revelation 3:20). So of course the homeowner invites Him in and they begin a relationship. The first room they visit is the Study or Library (your mind). It then moves to the dining room (your appetites and desires). The living room was the best part. This is where you and Jesus meet and have fellowship. Intimate talks by the fireplace. The other rooms include the work room, the rec room, and the bedroom. I would love to go into all the lessons in all these "rooms" but if I did that I might as well just re-type the book. Perhaps I shall blog about the other rooms separately. But this next section of the book is what brought me to my knees:
The Hall Closet
"One day I came home and found Him waiting for me at the front door. An arresting look was in His eye. As I entered, he said to me: 'there's a peculiar odor in the house. Something must be dead around here. Its upstairs. I think it is in the hall closet.' As soon as He said this I knew what He was talking about. Indeed there was a small closet up there on the hall landing, just a few square feet. In that closet behind lock and key I had one or two little personal things I did not want anyone to know about. Certainly I did not want Christ to see them. They were dead and rotting things leftover from my old life - not wicked, but not right and good to have in a Christian life. Yet I loved them. I wanted them so much for myself I was really afraid to admit they were there. Reluctantly, I went up the stairs with Him and as we mounted, the odor became stronger and stronger. He pointed at the door and said: 'Its in there - some dead thing!' It made me angry! I had given Him access to the study, the dining room, the living room, the workroom, the rec room, the bedroom and now He was asking me about a little two by four closet. I thought to myself: 'this is too much! I am not going to give Him the key'. Reading my thoughts, He said: 'if you think I am going to stay up here with this smell you are mistaken. I will take my bed out on the back porch or somewhere else. I am certainly not going to stay around that.' And I saw Him start down the stairs.
When you have come to know and love Jesus, one of the worst things that can happen is to sense Him withdrawing His face and fellowship.
This is where I nearly lost it. I have been there and done that - twice. The author is correct. Once you have known and loved Jesus and enjoyed sweet fellowship with Him and have intimate conversations in the living room of your heart, it is a horrific scene to watch Him turn away. The pain pierces my heart like a sword. Now the author was wise when he has Jesus say that He will "move to the back porch". Because that means that He is still there with us. Jesus says He will never leave us or forsake us. He is still our Protector, Provider, and Shepherd. Priscilla Shirer says it like this: "God's loyalty does not equal God's approval. May we never equate His faithfulness to us in times of rebellion with His endorsement or tolerance of our choices."
I also appreciate how the author states that what was in that closet was not wicked, it just wasn't right - did not belong in the life of a Christian.
In invited Jesus into my heart on July 30, 1988. He and I have spent precious time in the living room of my heart. We have spent countless hours in the study. In May of 2005, Jesus noticed something in my life that didn't belong there. At that time, when I watched Him turn around and head for the back porch, my heart was filled with anger and bitterness and that masked the pain of the loss of fellowship. Ashamedly, it took until January 2007 for me to invited Him back in. But as the author says, He won't come back in with the smell from the hall closet. So now what.. let's read on..
"I had to give in. 'I will give you the key, I said sadly, but you'll have to open the closet and clean it out - I haven't the strength to do it". Jesus replied 'I know you can't do it. Just give me the key. Just authorize me to handle that closet and I will.' So with trembling fingers, I passed the key over to Him. He took it from my hand...and began to clean..."
So back to me. I had mentioned that Jesus moved to the back porch of my heart about 8 years ago. So why did this booklet shake me to my core? Because as I sat with my friend reading this booklet, I realized that Jesus was once again on the back porch of my heart. In fact, I remember the exact day He turned and walked away. Now He was still with me - still in my heart. But the intimate fellowship was not happening. After all, what kind of person invites a friend into their home but is perfectly content with them sleeping on the back porch??? I didn't lose my Christianity (my relationship) but the rooms of my heart missed His Presence.
So what was so valuable in that hall closet? What could be worth keeping and seeing Jesus walk away? The author says it clearly: "it was dead and rotting, yet I loved it. I wanted it so much for myself"
See, like the author said.. what was in my hall closet wasn't something "wicked". I wasn't a thief, a murderer. I wasn't committing sexual sin. The dead and rotting stench in my closet was simple rebellion. God had asked me to do somethings over a year ago and I looked Him right in the eye and said "no". I didn't want to say no. I wanted Him to have His full reign. But I want Him to have His reign while I still had what I wanted, and still did things my way. God isn't Burger King - we can't have it our way. I wanted my cake and to eat it too. The group Casting Crowns described me perfectly in one of their songs: "always looking around, never looking up, I'm so double minded. A plank eyed saint, with dirty hands and a heart divided."
I spent over a year trying to clean that closet. I hated Jesus being on the back porch. I was grateful that He hadn't forsaken me and I knew my salvation was secure, but I longed for our sweet fellowship. I gave as much effort as I could muster, but I couldn't get that closet cleaned.
Like the author said - I just didn't have the strength to clean it up. I could not let go.
This little booklet, given to my friend, ended up in my hands. It was God speaking so clearly that there was no confusion that it was Him speaking. He said "stop trying to clean it - just give me the key". Again the author said it perfectly: 'with hands trembling I gave Him the key'.
For approximately the past month, Jesus has been cleaning. Sometimes what He throws away is painful. I want to go dig it out of the trash. But I won't - because I am enjoying having Him home again. We have met again in the study, and though our living room conversations are still not what they used to be, they are slowly resuming. I think the more I let Him clean, the more time we will have to enjoy the living room.
It blows my mind to think that after 25 years, I can still place a higher value on things than I do on Jesus. But what blows my mind even more is that He stays. If I were Him, I would have walked off my back porch a long time ago and found another house to dwell in. But He stays. He endures the back porch and patiently waits for me to hand Him the key and to trust Him that what He has for me is better than whatever I was clinging to. And beyond that, He still knocks at the door - expressing His desire to come back in. I truly believe that my friend's relative was being used by God. The relative just thought it was for my friend, God knew it was for me. He sent a letter with someone who was permitted in my living room. The letter said "can I come back in? I will if you just give me the key".
It is my sincere hope to never see Him turn and head for the back porch again. I feel much better with Him in the house.
Also, this is going to be a little deeper spiritually than my usual blogs.
About a month ago, I was hanging out with a friend and doing a Bible study. This friend had been given a little booklet from a relative and the two of us were reading it. I thought that my friend would greatly benefit from this booklet, but God had other plans. Here it was me who needed it and as I read it out loud, it was all I could do to hold back sobs while I read. The sobs came later when I was alone, but it was a good cry - the cleansing, healing kind.
Apparently, this little booklet isn't new, but it was the first I had seen it. The booklet is titled "My Heart - Christ's Home" by Robert Boyd Munger. In order for this blog to make sense, I am going to have to quote it often. To differentiate between the authors words and my own thoughts, I will italicize the authors words.
From the title, you can gather that the book is about inviting Jesus into your heart and allowing Him to dwell there. The author illustrates this by talking about the different rooms in your heart - like the rooms in a home. He begins with Jesus knocking at the door of your heart (Revelation 3:20). So of course the homeowner invites Him in and they begin a relationship. The first room they visit is the Study or Library (your mind). It then moves to the dining room (your appetites and desires). The living room was the best part. This is where you and Jesus meet and have fellowship. Intimate talks by the fireplace. The other rooms include the work room, the rec room, and the bedroom. I would love to go into all the lessons in all these "rooms" but if I did that I might as well just re-type the book. Perhaps I shall blog about the other rooms separately. But this next section of the book is what brought me to my knees:
The Hall Closet
"One day I came home and found Him waiting for me at the front door. An arresting look was in His eye. As I entered, he said to me: 'there's a peculiar odor in the house. Something must be dead around here. Its upstairs. I think it is in the hall closet.' As soon as He said this I knew what He was talking about. Indeed there was a small closet up there on the hall landing, just a few square feet. In that closet behind lock and key I had one or two little personal things I did not want anyone to know about. Certainly I did not want Christ to see them. They were dead and rotting things leftover from my old life - not wicked, but not right and good to have in a Christian life. Yet I loved them. I wanted them so much for myself I was really afraid to admit they were there. Reluctantly, I went up the stairs with Him and as we mounted, the odor became stronger and stronger. He pointed at the door and said: 'Its in there - some dead thing!' It made me angry! I had given Him access to the study, the dining room, the living room, the workroom, the rec room, the bedroom and now He was asking me about a little two by four closet. I thought to myself: 'this is too much! I am not going to give Him the key'. Reading my thoughts, He said: 'if you think I am going to stay up here with this smell you are mistaken. I will take my bed out on the back porch or somewhere else. I am certainly not going to stay around that.' And I saw Him start down the stairs.
When you have come to know and love Jesus, one of the worst things that can happen is to sense Him withdrawing His face and fellowship.
This is where I nearly lost it. I have been there and done that - twice. The author is correct. Once you have known and loved Jesus and enjoyed sweet fellowship with Him and have intimate conversations in the living room of your heart, it is a horrific scene to watch Him turn away. The pain pierces my heart like a sword. Now the author was wise when he has Jesus say that He will "move to the back porch". Because that means that He is still there with us. Jesus says He will never leave us or forsake us. He is still our Protector, Provider, and Shepherd. Priscilla Shirer says it like this: "God's loyalty does not equal God's approval. May we never equate His faithfulness to us in times of rebellion with His endorsement or tolerance of our choices."
I also appreciate how the author states that what was in that closet was not wicked, it just wasn't right - did not belong in the life of a Christian.
In invited Jesus into my heart on July 30, 1988. He and I have spent precious time in the living room of my heart. We have spent countless hours in the study. In May of 2005, Jesus noticed something in my life that didn't belong there. At that time, when I watched Him turn around and head for the back porch, my heart was filled with anger and bitterness and that masked the pain of the loss of fellowship. Ashamedly, it took until January 2007 for me to invited Him back in. But as the author says, He won't come back in with the smell from the hall closet. So now what.. let's read on..
"I had to give in. 'I will give you the key, I said sadly, but you'll have to open the closet and clean it out - I haven't the strength to do it". Jesus replied 'I know you can't do it. Just give me the key. Just authorize me to handle that closet and I will.' So with trembling fingers, I passed the key over to Him. He took it from my hand...and began to clean..."
So back to me. I had mentioned that Jesus moved to the back porch of my heart about 8 years ago. So why did this booklet shake me to my core? Because as I sat with my friend reading this booklet, I realized that Jesus was once again on the back porch of my heart. In fact, I remember the exact day He turned and walked away. Now He was still with me - still in my heart. But the intimate fellowship was not happening. After all, what kind of person invites a friend into their home but is perfectly content with them sleeping on the back porch??? I didn't lose my Christianity (my relationship) but the rooms of my heart missed His Presence.
So what was so valuable in that hall closet? What could be worth keeping and seeing Jesus walk away? The author says it clearly: "it was dead and rotting, yet I loved it. I wanted it so much for myself"
See, like the author said.. what was in my hall closet wasn't something "wicked". I wasn't a thief, a murderer. I wasn't committing sexual sin. The dead and rotting stench in my closet was simple rebellion. God had asked me to do somethings over a year ago and I looked Him right in the eye and said "no". I didn't want to say no. I wanted Him to have His full reign. But I want Him to have His reign while I still had what I wanted, and still did things my way. God isn't Burger King - we can't have it our way. I wanted my cake and to eat it too. The group Casting Crowns described me perfectly in one of their songs: "always looking around, never looking up, I'm so double minded. A plank eyed saint, with dirty hands and a heart divided."
I spent over a year trying to clean that closet. I hated Jesus being on the back porch. I was grateful that He hadn't forsaken me and I knew my salvation was secure, but I longed for our sweet fellowship. I gave as much effort as I could muster, but I couldn't get that closet cleaned.
Like the author said - I just didn't have the strength to clean it up. I could not let go.
This little booklet, given to my friend, ended up in my hands. It was God speaking so clearly that there was no confusion that it was Him speaking. He said "stop trying to clean it - just give me the key". Again the author said it perfectly: 'with hands trembling I gave Him the key'.
For approximately the past month, Jesus has been cleaning. Sometimes what He throws away is painful. I want to go dig it out of the trash. But I won't - because I am enjoying having Him home again. We have met again in the study, and though our living room conversations are still not what they used to be, they are slowly resuming. I think the more I let Him clean, the more time we will have to enjoy the living room.
It blows my mind to think that after 25 years, I can still place a higher value on things than I do on Jesus. But what blows my mind even more is that He stays. If I were Him, I would have walked off my back porch a long time ago and found another house to dwell in. But He stays. He endures the back porch and patiently waits for me to hand Him the key and to trust Him that what He has for me is better than whatever I was clinging to. And beyond that, He still knocks at the door - expressing His desire to come back in. I truly believe that my friend's relative was being used by God. The relative just thought it was for my friend, God knew it was for me. He sent a letter with someone who was permitted in my living room. The letter said "can I come back in? I will if you just give me the key".
It is my sincere hope to never see Him turn and head for the back porch again. I feel much better with Him in the house.
Tuesday, August 6, 2013
Healing
After my surgery, I received a card in the mail from my spiritual mentor and friend Kathy. It was a very well chosen card. The words were great. The words she wrote were perfect. They began with: “I am praying for your physical healing and for the healing of your soul”. As soon as I read that the tears began to fall. Kathy knows me better than almost anyone and she knew how badly I needed that healing of my soul. In fact, her next words were: “so much has happened over the last couple years...”
This blog post is not going to rehash everything that has occurred in the past two years that have caused me to need a soul healing. Rather, this post is to “see what great love the Father has lavished on me”. ( I John 3:1)
I have been the recipient of so much love and care this past week. The day of my surgery, my Kathy came and picked me up and drove me to the hospital. My mother was planning to meet us there. As Kathy and I were walking to the place to register, we heard a voice behind us say “hey, wait up”. It was my friend and fellow LAMP mentor Deb Dilliplaine. She had surprised me by coming to the hospital to pray with me before surgery. That was such an awesome sweet surprise.
Kathy stayed with my mom while I was being prepped and they both sat with me while I got the IV hooked up and what not. After surgery, as I was coming out of the anesthesia, I realized my bed was moving. I was being transported to my regular room. The funny thing is, I looked to my left and the first person I saw was Ron Kutzavitch holding a floral arrangement sent by my church. His wife Kathy (a different Kathy) has been in my Bible study group for many years and they own a floral shop and the church uses them for these occasions. I had only met Ron once before, but he is a very personable guy and he walked with the nurse to my room and set my arrangement on the table and wished me well. My mom came in the room and knew immediately what to do – GIVE ME MY CELL PHONE! LOL.
I was a little nervous about being in Sewickley Hospital. Both my mom and my uncle had horrible experiences there. That was not the case for me. I had impeccable service. Three very kind, caring nurses made me feel like I was their only patient. And each of them understood that my first priority was my cell phone and the charger! Hahaha
I got to come home the very next day. My sweet friend Kathy (the one from the first paragraph) came back to see me about 3pm and brought me some groceries. Then that evening, Kathy Kutzavitch brought me dinner. The next morning I got a visit from Kristin Radacsy. She and I had a great conversation and I was blessed by much of what she shared. One little thing she said ended up meaning the world to me. I mentioned that when I had posted on Facebook that I was home from the hospital and resting, that our lead pastor Scott Stevens liked that status post. I told Kristin that even though the flowers I received said “from Pastor Scott and Tina and your North Way family” I knew the assistants order those and I didn’t even think Scott knew. I wasn’t upset by that – I just figured the lead pastor of 4,000 people had bigger things to be informed of. But Kristin said: “of course he knows – especially since its you”.
What followed next was nothing short of a miracle. August 1st – two days after my surgery, was the day my best friend and her husband where scheduled to leave the US for China. They were at the airport at some early hour in the morning. Well, they lost their seats on the flight from Pittsburgh to Chicago and could not secure another flight that day. Denise had a peace about it though and thought that God must have some reason for delaying them a day. One of her friends posted on Denise’s Facebook that God had a divine appointment for them in the US. Well, after going to her son’s house to get some sleep, she and her hubby came to see me. I hadn’t seen them since the Sunday before my surgery and we thought that was our good-bye. Well, Denise ended up making dinner for me and the three of us ate dinner together. She and her husband would not let me lift a finger. So the three of us are sitting at my table just chatting and eating and all of a sudden Denise looks down at her plate and I see tears well up. I asked her what was wrong. Nothing was wrong. She told me that she knew about what all the other ladies were doing for me after my surgery and she felt so bad that she was unable to be here for me and make sure I was okay and help me out. As we hugged (and poor John endured all that girly emotion) we realized God had blessed us by delaying them. I got an extra day with them and they got to help me out. Denise went home and posted to her Facebook that she did indeed have a divine appointment in the US – to see her best friend and make sure she was okay. Sure enough, the next day everything work out perfectly and they made their flights to China – with their luggage.
More cards, flowers, and gifts came each day. On Sunday, I woke up and was sad because I was missing church. I knew I could catch the sermon online but I hate missing worship. Pastor Kent saw my Facebook post that said I hated missing church and he sent me a link – a link to the recording of Saturday night’s service – the whole thing – worship and all. So I got to attend church while at home. Last night my friend Gail spoiled me rotten! She brought dinner, an entire pie for dessert, a gift, and washed my dishes. My friend Susan had given me a gift bag before my surgery with multiple gifts in it – told me to open one each day during recovery. I had something to look forward to each morning – what a sweet idea. My friend John has been over several times. He has cooked four meals for me and handled my trash and other things I cannot take care of. Even my parents’ pastors have called me and prayed for me.
Why am I listing all this out? Because all this love that the Father is lavishing on me is the beginning of the healing of my soul. During these past two difficult years, I have made many mistakes and haven’t handled everything in the wisest way. And the past few months I have been a beast. The pain has been keeping me up at night and cranky during the day. I have been unpleasant and difficult to deal with. And the worst part is I hadn’t spent quality time with the Lord in a long time.
But something happened the week before my surgery that has had such an impact on me. It was the stone in the water and all these other blessings have been ripple effects. My friend was in town for a week. Prior to her coming to Pittsburgh, we had been at odds. I love her dearly but we got caught up in that Scripture that says “like iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another”. And truthfully, I had been a snot. She arrived on a Monday and I had been wanting some one on one time with her to apologize to her. That one on one time didn’t come until Thursday. But we arranged to have dinner and I got to the restaurant first. I was sitting in that booth like a child sitting in the principals office waiting for punishment. I knew she was going to come in, sit down and tell me about myself. And she had every right to. I had my apology rehearsed and ready, but I would give her the opportunity to give me what for. She sits down and we chat and order food. I waited for the hammer. It never came. Perplexed, I proceeded with my apology. She looked at me like I had ten heads. She told me she had already spoken what she had to say and it was done and over with. No grudges, no hard feelings, no damaged friendship, no lashes with a wet noodle…. I kept trying to rehash it and she said “I have moved on”.
I was humbled and blown into the middle of next week.
When I got in my car, I was still stunned. Happy and relieved, but stunned. When I talked to the Lord about it He said to me: “Raquel, that was a human. You received that grace, forgiveness, and restoration from a human. Why is it so hard to receive it from me?” I realized that each time I approach the Lord, I give myself a Christian “report card”. And lately, my grades have been horrible. So I approach Him with shame and wait for the tongue lashing – but it doesn’t come.
Both my friend and God had the same six words for me: “you know me better than that”.
It’s true. I do. That knowledge was in my head – I just needed to secure it in my heart.
That night at Smokey Bones began the healing of my soul. It enabled me to receive all the other love and care from the Lord through my friends.
So tonight my physical body is on the mend and so is my heart. Both are progressing well. The printed words in that card from Kathy say: “the One who made us knows how to mend us. He is the Great Physician – the only One Who can heal body, soul, and spirit. I couldn’t be in better hands. :)
This blog post is not going to rehash everything that has occurred in the past two years that have caused me to need a soul healing. Rather, this post is to “see what great love the Father has lavished on me”. ( I John 3:1)
I have been the recipient of so much love and care this past week. The day of my surgery, my Kathy came and picked me up and drove me to the hospital. My mother was planning to meet us there. As Kathy and I were walking to the place to register, we heard a voice behind us say “hey, wait up”. It was my friend and fellow LAMP mentor Deb Dilliplaine. She had surprised me by coming to the hospital to pray with me before surgery. That was such an awesome sweet surprise.
Kathy stayed with my mom while I was being prepped and they both sat with me while I got the IV hooked up and what not. After surgery, as I was coming out of the anesthesia, I realized my bed was moving. I was being transported to my regular room. The funny thing is, I looked to my left and the first person I saw was Ron Kutzavitch holding a floral arrangement sent by my church. His wife Kathy (a different Kathy) has been in my Bible study group for many years and they own a floral shop and the church uses them for these occasions. I had only met Ron once before, but he is a very personable guy and he walked with the nurse to my room and set my arrangement on the table and wished me well. My mom came in the room and knew immediately what to do – GIVE ME MY CELL PHONE! LOL.
I was a little nervous about being in Sewickley Hospital. Both my mom and my uncle had horrible experiences there. That was not the case for me. I had impeccable service. Three very kind, caring nurses made me feel like I was their only patient. And each of them understood that my first priority was my cell phone and the charger! Hahaha
I got to come home the very next day. My sweet friend Kathy (the one from the first paragraph) came back to see me about 3pm and brought me some groceries. Then that evening, Kathy Kutzavitch brought me dinner. The next morning I got a visit from Kristin Radacsy. She and I had a great conversation and I was blessed by much of what she shared. One little thing she said ended up meaning the world to me. I mentioned that when I had posted on Facebook that I was home from the hospital and resting, that our lead pastor Scott Stevens liked that status post. I told Kristin that even though the flowers I received said “from Pastor Scott and Tina and your North Way family” I knew the assistants order those and I didn’t even think Scott knew. I wasn’t upset by that – I just figured the lead pastor of 4,000 people had bigger things to be informed of. But Kristin said: “of course he knows – especially since its you”.
What followed next was nothing short of a miracle. August 1st – two days after my surgery, was the day my best friend and her husband where scheduled to leave the US for China. They were at the airport at some early hour in the morning. Well, they lost their seats on the flight from Pittsburgh to Chicago and could not secure another flight that day. Denise had a peace about it though and thought that God must have some reason for delaying them a day. One of her friends posted on Denise’s Facebook that God had a divine appointment for them in the US. Well, after going to her son’s house to get some sleep, she and her hubby came to see me. I hadn’t seen them since the Sunday before my surgery and we thought that was our good-bye. Well, Denise ended up making dinner for me and the three of us ate dinner together. She and her husband would not let me lift a finger. So the three of us are sitting at my table just chatting and eating and all of a sudden Denise looks down at her plate and I see tears well up. I asked her what was wrong. Nothing was wrong. She told me that she knew about what all the other ladies were doing for me after my surgery and she felt so bad that she was unable to be here for me and make sure I was okay and help me out. As we hugged (and poor John endured all that girly emotion) we realized God had blessed us by delaying them. I got an extra day with them and they got to help me out. Denise went home and posted to her Facebook that she did indeed have a divine appointment in the US – to see her best friend and make sure she was okay. Sure enough, the next day everything work out perfectly and they made their flights to China – with their luggage.
More cards, flowers, and gifts came each day. On Sunday, I woke up and was sad because I was missing church. I knew I could catch the sermon online but I hate missing worship. Pastor Kent saw my Facebook post that said I hated missing church and he sent me a link – a link to the recording of Saturday night’s service – the whole thing – worship and all. So I got to attend church while at home. Last night my friend Gail spoiled me rotten! She brought dinner, an entire pie for dessert, a gift, and washed my dishes. My friend Susan had given me a gift bag before my surgery with multiple gifts in it – told me to open one each day during recovery. I had something to look forward to each morning – what a sweet idea. My friend John has been over several times. He has cooked four meals for me and handled my trash and other things I cannot take care of. Even my parents’ pastors have called me and prayed for me.
Why am I listing all this out? Because all this love that the Father is lavishing on me is the beginning of the healing of my soul. During these past two difficult years, I have made many mistakes and haven’t handled everything in the wisest way. And the past few months I have been a beast. The pain has been keeping me up at night and cranky during the day. I have been unpleasant and difficult to deal with. And the worst part is I hadn’t spent quality time with the Lord in a long time.
But something happened the week before my surgery that has had such an impact on me. It was the stone in the water and all these other blessings have been ripple effects. My friend was in town for a week. Prior to her coming to Pittsburgh, we had been at odds. I love her dearly but we got caught up in that Scripture that says “like iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another”. And truthfully, I had been a snot. She arrived on a Monday and I had been wanting some one on one time with her to apologize to her. That one on one time didn’t come until Thursday. But we arranged to have dinner and I got to the restaurant first. I was sitting in that booth like a child sitting in the principals office waiting for punishment. I knew she was going to come in, sit down and tell me about myself. And she had every right to. I had my apology rehearsed and ready, but I would give her the opportunity to give me what for. She sits down and we chat and order food. I waited for the hammer. It never came. Perplexed, I proceeded with my apology. She looked at me like I had ten heads. She told me she had already spoken what she had to say and it was done and over with. No grudges, no hard feelings, no damaged friendship, no lashes with a wet noodle…. I kept trying to rehash it and she said “I have moved on”.
I was humbled and blown into the middle of next week.
When I got in my car, I was still stunned. Happy and relieved, but stunned. When I talked to the Lord about it He said to me: “Raquel, that was a human. You received that grace, forgiveness, and restoration from a human. Why is it so hard to receive it from me?” I realized that each time I approach the Lord, I give myself a Christian “report card”. And lately, my grades have been horrible. So I approach Him with shame and wait for the tongue lashing – but it doesn’t come.
Both my friend and God had the same six words for me: “you know me better than that”.
It’s true. I do. That knowledge was in my head – I just needed to secure it in my heart.
That night at Smokey Bones began the healing of my soul. It enabled me to receive all the other love and care from the Lord through my friends.
So tonight my physical body is on the mend and so is my heart. Both are progressing well. The printed words in that card from Kathy say: “the One who made us knows how to mend us. He is the Great Physician – the only One Who can heal body, soul, and spirit. I couldn’t be in better hands. :)
Saturday, July 27, 2013
It is Well With My Soul
In my last post, I discussed the difference between reality and truth. Each day I see more of the huge gap between the two. I have spoken to several friends about it. Reality is very real, but truth is higher and truth is absolute.
Well, because I have "preached" this so fervently, I think God wants to be sure I practice what I preach. Beyond that, I think God wants to be certain that I believe it wholeheartedly.
My "reality" has been hit with two very difficult things in the past month. These events have caused me to rely on the deep roots of my almost 25 years of faith. They have caused to me question what I believe and why.
I have been having some health issues for over six months. I ignored it for the longest time, but when the pain kept getting worse and I was waking up in the middle of the night with pain that took my breath away, I knew it was time to see the doc. After several tests and more doctors appointments than I ever cared to have, the diagnosis was in. My uterus had multiple fibroid tumors. Many women have them and for most women its not a problem, but mine had grown too big and were too numerous. They were not only causing excruciating pain, they were interfering with other health issues.
The physical pain I had dealt with for months was nothing compared to the question my doctor asked: "are you done having children?" Not wanting to get emotional in front of the doctor, I quickly replied: "done??? I havent started." That did not work. Knowing that I am 39, she says "oh, so you don't won't children?". My initial thought was that a more merciful God would have given me stage 4 ovarian cancer.
Was this doctor serious? My desire to have children began when I was five years old. No - I didnt want kids at age 5. LOL. But I remember being 5 years old and playing with my cousin who was a year younger than me. We played house and even at that young age, we both dreamed of the day we would become mothers. We even had names for our kids picked out. As we got a little older and stopped playing with dolls, we would play the game of LIFE. Each time we landed on a space that said "a daughter or son is born" and we would reach for that pink or blue peg, we had a rule... before we put it in our car, we had to name it. My first choice for a boy's name was Christopher. For a girl, Susan. My cousin April's choices were Nathaniel and Julie. My cousin and I are middle-aged women now. Her son Nathaniel is 17 and her daughter Julie is 12. I have two cats - and they are not named Christopher and Susan. (my attempt at some humor here).
The humiliation in the doctors office did not end there. Irritated, I informed her that I was incapable of making children by myself. She then asked if I was married.. no. Do I have a fiance.. no. When would this end??? She informed me that I had to choice between two surgeries. However, she would not be able to perform them. So she sent me to see a more specialized doctor. When I met with him, he began asking the same painful questions. The first surgery I could choose was a myomectomy. I won't go into detail but the doctor said it was a "morbid, gruesome, horrible procedure" that would take at least six weeks to recover from. It would save the organ, but could possibly damage it to the point that it could not fulfill its purpose anyway. Then the doc suggested another method to try to save the organ, but it also had huge risks and would only delay the inevitable.
So this doctor's words cut deeper than his scapel. He says: "you're 7 months away from being 40 years old. You're unmarried with no prospects. Your chances of getting pregnant and not miscarrying are slim to none anyway." So he scheduled a hysterectomy for July 30th.
Needless to say, I was crushed. But two things have helped me to not remain in a state of despair. The first was true empathy given by my best friend. I say true empathy for a reason. I have many friends that love me and care about me. I have had the support and sympathy of many and I am grateful for it. However, I believe true empathy can only be given by someone who completely understands your pain. The only way to completely understand someone's pain is if you yourself have experienced the same thing. If not, you can only imagine what the person feels.
Though my best friend is married, she has no children of her own. When I called her crying, she spoke words that told me she understood. She said "being a woman and not bearing children is a huge blow to your self-esteem. It makes you question why you ever born, or at least born a woman. It makes you wonder if you have any purpose for being on the planet." Just to have someone understand that was a huge help.
Those words brought comfort. The words of another friend brought me back to the truth (not reality - truth). These words were not even spoken directly to me. I had attended a meeting with a friend at a ministry that he does. This person was speaking to a group and I was just sitting there observing. The people in the group began to ask some really deep questions about why God allows tragedy. My friend, who has been through what I would think is the worst thing a human being can ever experience while on this fallen world, spoke to the group and said: "you all know what happened to me. I have two choices: I can either lay down and die, or I can rely on God." He then went on to state an often quoted verse of Scripture. Proverbs 3:5. That Scripture is quoted so much. Its often one of those band-aid Scriptures that we quote when we have nothing else to say. But this time was different. When my friend looked at the group and said "The Bible tells me to lean not on my own understanding", it was a lightning bolt that pushed that Scripture from my head to my heart. It took my breath away when I considered it in the context of the one speaking it. To hear it quoted is one thing, but to see it lived out so well by someone who is applying it - holy smokes. I thought to myself, if he can apply it to his situation, I surely can apply it to mine.
So I have been doing okay. I am not happy - but I am not in despair either. I have peace about this upcoming surgery.
Well sometimes life likes to kick a dog when he's down. Last night something else happened. I can't go into detail here - not because its too personal - heck I just talked about a hysterectomy. But I can't go into detail about it because unlike the pain of not being able to bear children, no one that I know has walked my journey in this area. I am sure someone on the planet has, I just don't personally know anyone who has experienced what I have for the past 20 years. If I would tell them what occurred last night, they would laugh, roll their eyes, tell me I am being dramatic and overreacting, or just give me all this advice on what to do. They would point out all the silver linings and rainbows and I just can't hear it. All I can say is that at this season of my life, the part of my life that I have enjoyed the most has been significantly reduced.
Believe it or not, I did not write this blog to be a depressing sob story. The general purpose of my blog is to share the life lesson God teaches me along the journey. Today's blog is about truth. And I have been saying - Truth Trumps Reality. Truth is higher than reality. Truth is absolute. And like I said in the beginning of this blog, I think God wants to make sure that I truly believe what I believe and that I practice what I preach.
The Bible is the source of absolute truth - because it was written by the One Who is the Truth. And like my friend said - the Bible tells us to lean not on our own understanding. See my own understanding is that my life (reality) stinks right now. My own understanding says I have been denied a privilege that the most get to enjoy. That doesn't mean my life is all bad - I have a long list of blessings to be grateful for - its just a painful season right now. That's reality.
The truth? The truth is - God is good. The truth is that He is my shepherd and I shall not want. (Psalm 23) The truth is He works all things for my good. (Romans 8:28).
When I woke up this morning, I was leaning a bit too much on my own understanding. And my reality today says that I have a ton of things to do to prepare for surgery on Tuesday and the recovery period. Housework, shopping... So I had planned to skip out on my typical Saturday morning time with the Lord. Not wise. Thankfully, I am a Facebook addict. I quickly checked Facebook before getting a shower, and a friend and posted about being too busy to spend time with the Lord. It was at the top of my news feed. (Can't accuse God of not speaking to us or pursuing us). So I made the choice to sit down with my Bible. I wasn't in the mood. I shared that with God. I told Him I knew better than to be mad at Him, but I was sad and confused as to why my life is the way it is. But I apologized to Him to trying to use Him as a genie in a lamp to grant me my wishes. Then I went to the book of Psalms - and landed at Psalm 145.
Here I read: "The Lord is loving towards all He has made. The Lord upholds those who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down. He opens His hand and satisfies the desires of every living thing. The Lord is righteous in all of His ways and loving toward all He has made. The Lord is near to all who call on Him, to all who call on Him in truth. He fulfills the desires of those who love Him."
I sat on my balcony, grateful for the cool temperature and my orange flavored coffee. I smiled through the tears. See my reality tells me my desires are not fulfilled. But my reality must bow to the Truth. Just as Jesus Himself had to battle the enemy of our souls with the Word, I too had to speak to my circumstances and say "It is written..." After that battle, the sweet still small voice spoke comfort with another Scripture. He reminded me of those famous words in Isaiah - He bore our sorrows. He may not be a genie in a lamp, but along with my sin, He bore my sorrow on Calvary's cross.
So when I look at Jesus, the things of this world do grow strangely dim. I respond with worship and two old hymn comes to mind... On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand and It is Well With My Soul. I posted on Facebook yesterday about truly meaning the words when we sing in worship. And I mean these words:
When peace like a river attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul.
And...
Through every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil.
Well, because I have "preached" this so fervently, I think God wants to be sure I practice what I preach. Beyond that, I think God wants to be certain that I believe it wholeheartedly.
My "reality" has been hit with two very difficult things in the past month. These events have caused me to rely on the deep roots of my almost 25 years of faith. They have caused to me question what I believe and why.
I have been having some health issues for over six months. I ignored it for the longest time, but when the pain kept getting worse and I was waking up in the middle of the night with pain that took my breath away, I knew it was time to see the doc. After several tests and more doctors appointments than I ever cared to have, the diagnosis was in. My uterus had multiple fibroid tumors. Many women have them and for most women its not a problem, but mine had grown too big and were too numerous. They were not only causing excruciating pain, they were interfering with other health issues.
The physical pain I had dealt with for months was nothing compared to the question my doctor asked: "are you done having children?" Not wanting to get emotional in front of the doctor, I quickly replied: "done??? I havent started." That did not work. Knowing that I am 39, she says "oh, so you don't won't children?". My initial thought was that a more merciful God would have given me stage 4 ovarian cancer.
Was this doctor serious? My desire to have children began when I was five years old. No - I didnt want kids at age 5. LOL. But I remember being 5 years old and playing with my cousin who was a year younger than me. We played house and even at that young age, we both dreamed of the day we would become mothers. We even had names for our kids picked out. As we got a little older and stopped playing with dolls, we would play the game of LIFE. Each time we landed on a space that said "a daughter or son is born" and we would reach for that pink or blue peg, we had a rule... before we put it in our car, we had to name it. My first choice for a boy's name was Christopher. For a girl, Susan. My cousin April's choices were Nathaniel and Julie. My cousin and I are middle-aged women now. Her son Nathaniel is 17 and her daughter Julie is 12. I have two cats - and they are not named Christopher and Susan. (my attempt at some humor here).
The humiliation in the doctors office did not end there. Irritated, I informed her that I was incapable of making children by myself. She then asked if I was married.. no. Do I have a fiance.. no. When would this end??? She informed me that I had to choice between two surgeries. However, she would not be able to perform them. So she sent me to see a more specialized doctor. When I met with him, he began asking the same painful questions. The first surgery I could choose was a myomectomy. I won't go into detail but the doctor said it was a "morbid, gruesome, horrible procedure" that would take at least six weeks to recover from. It would save the organ, but could possibly damage it to the point that it could not fulfill its purpose anyway. Then the doc suggested another method to try to save the organ, but it also had huge risks and would only delay the inevitable.
So this doctor's words cut deeper than his scapel. He says: "you're 7 months away from being 40 years old. You're unmarried with no prospects. Your chances of getting pregnant and not miscarrying are slim to none anyway." So he scheduled a hysterectomy for July 30th.
Needless to say, I was crushed. But two things have helped me to not remain in a state of despair. The first was true empathy given by my best friend. I say true empathy for a reason. I have many friends that love me and care about me. I have had the support and sympathy of many and I am grateful for it. However, I believe true empathy can only be given by someone who completely understands your pain. The only way to completely understand someone's pain is if you yourself have experienced the same thing. If not, you can only imagine what the person feels.
Though my best friend is married, she has no children of her own. When I called her crying, she spoke words that told me she understood. She said "being a woman and not bearing children is a huge blow to your self-esteem. It makes you question why you ever born, or at least born a woman. It makes you wonder if you have any purpose for being on the planet." Just to have someone understand that was a huge help.
Those words brought comfort. The words of another friend brought me back to the truth (not reality - truth). These words were not even spoken directly to me. I had attended a meeting with a friend at a ministry that he does. This person was speaking to a group and I was just sitting there observing. The people in the group began to ask some really deep questions about why God allows tragedy. My friend, who has been through what I would think is the worst thing a human being can ever experience while on this fallen world, spoke to the group and said: "you all know what happened to me. I have two choices: I can either lay down and die, or I can rely on God." He then went on to state an often quoted verse of Scripture. Proverbs 3:5. That Scripture is quoted so much. Its often one of those band-aid Scriptures that we quote when we have nothing else to say. But this time was different. When my friend looked at the group and said "The Bible tells me to lean not on my own understanding", it was a lightning bolt that pushed that Scripture from my head to my heart. It took my breath away when I considered it in the context of the one speaking it. To hear it quoted is one thing, but to see it lived out so well by someone who is applying it - holy smokes. I thought to myself, if he can apply it to his situation, I surely can apply it to mine.
So I have been doing okay. I am not happy - but I am not in despair either. I have peace about this upcoming surgery.
Well sometimes life likes to kick a dog when he's down. Last night something else happened. I can't go into detail here - not because its too personal - heck I just talked about a hysterectomy. But I can't go into detail about it because unlike the pain of not being able to bear children, no one that I know has walked my journey in this area. I am sure someone on the planet has, I just don't personally know anyone who has experienced what I have for the past 20 years. If I would tell them what occurred last night, they would laugh, roll their eyes, tell me I am being dramatic and overreacting, or just give me all this advice on what to do. They would point out all the silver linings and rainbows and I just can't hear it. All I can say is that at this season of my life, the part of my life that I have enjoyed the most has been significantly reduced.
Believe it or not, I did not write this blog to be a depressing sob story. The general purpose of my blog is to share the life lesson God teaches me along the journey. Today's blog is about truth. And I have been saying - Truth Trumps Reality. Truth is higher than reality. Truth is absolute. And like I said in the beginning of this blog, I think God wants to make sure that I truly believe what I believe and that I practice what I preach.
The Bible is the source of absolute truth - because it was written by the One Who is the Truth. And like my friend said - the Bible tells us to lean not on our own understanding. See my own understanding is that my life (reality) stinks right now. My own understanding says I have been denied a privilege that the most get to enjoy. That doesn't mean my life is all bad - I have a long list of blessings to be grateful for - its just a painful season right now. That's reality.
The truth? The truth is - God is good. The truth is that He is my shepherd and I shall not want. (Psalm 23) The truth is He works all things for my good. (Romans 8:28).
When I woke up this morning, I was leaning a bit too much on my own understanding. And my reality today says that I have a ton of things to do to prepare for surgery on Tuesday and the recovery period. Housework, shopping... So I had planned to skip out on my typical Saturday morning time with the Lord. Not wise. Thankfully, I am a Facebook addict. I quickly checked Facebook before getting a shower, and a friend and posted about being too busy to spend time with the Lord. It was at the top of my news feed. (Can't accuse God of not speaking to us or pursuing us). So I made the choice to sit down with my Bible. I wasn't in the mood. I shared that with God. I told Him I knew better than to be mad at Him, but I was sad and confused as to why my life is the way it is. But I apologized to Him to trying to use Him as a genie in a lamp to grant me my wishes. Then I went to the book of Psalms - and landed at Psalm 145.
Here I read: "The Lord is loving towards all He has made. The Lord upholds those who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down. He opens His hand and satisfies the desires of every living thing. The Lord is righteous in all of His ways and loving toward all He has made. The Lord is near to all who call on Him, to all who call on Him in truth. He fulfills the desires of those who love Him."
I sat on my balcony, grateful for the cool temperature and my orange flavored coffee. I smiled through the tears. See my reality tells me my desires are not fulfilled. But my reality must bow to the Truth. Just as Jesus Himself had to battle the enemy of our souls with the Word, I too had to speak to my circumstances and say "It is written..." After that battle, the sweet still small voice spoke comfort with another Scripture. He reminded me of those famous words in Isaiah - He bore our sorrows. He may not be a genie in a lamp, but along with my sin, He bore my sorrow on Calvary's cross.
So when I look at Jesus, the things of this world do grow strangely dim. I respond with worship and two old hymn comes to mind... On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand and It is Well With My Soul. I posted on Facebook yesterday about truly meaning the words when we sing in worship. And I mean these words:
When peace like a river attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, Thou has taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul.
And...
Through every high and stormy gale, my anchor holds within the veil.
Friday, July 19, 2013
I Knew It! or did I?
I've been meaning to post about this for several weeks, but I am very much behind on my personal to-do list. It relates back to a message that Pastor Doug preached a few weeks back. His message was awesome, but it was not new revelation for me. In fact, I had prayed for awhile to hear this preached and was happy to see that prayer answered. And today was a picture of that message.
Let's start with a definiton. Relativism: The doctrine that knowledge, truth, and morality exist in relation to culture, society, or historical context, and are not absolute.
I get in these conversations all the time. I have a friend who I hang out with frequently and when we discuss certain things he will say "that's just not reality." He is usually right - its not reality. But the funny thing is, we weren't discussing reality, we were dicussing right vs wrong. We were discussing truth.
Today I had a conversation with someone and it was downright sad. Heartbreaking. I can almost feel the heart of God heavily sighing and shaking His head and saying "this is not what I intended". I could also almost picture the enemy getting a good hearty chuckle. When I mentioned my saddness over this, it was said that my ideals don't agree with reality. There were a couple funny things about that. First... they werent my ideals. God was saying "um, excuse me..." Even funnier though, was the notion that reality dictates right and wrong. Let's see...
Human trafficking is reality.
Abortion is reality.
Racism is reality.
Orphans are a reality.
Poverty and child starvation are reality.
Rape, violent crime, discrimination,... all reality.
Need I go on? All those things are how things really are... but are they right?
Let's talk about less obvious things... the receptionist works harder than the CEO but gets paid less than a quarter of what he does - reality, not right. The most difficult job I have ever worked in my life - McDonalds. Paid minimum wage. Reality - not right. We have communities surrounding Pittsburgh that people are afraid to drive through - reality - not right.
And lastly - relativism itself - a painful reality - but not right.
I was so defeated and discouraged as a drove home today. Stressed, personal to-do list getting longer, didn''t have time to stop at grocery store and was mentally unprepared for a meeting at 6. (all that was my reality - but it wasnt right). I didn't feel qualified to help a new believer with a Bible study, but that is exactly what I was about to do.
God ended up using a Bible study that I am not even a part of (I just help my friend prepare for their Bible study) to confirm me and encourage me.
The Bible study started with the fall of man. And the first page of the Bible study said that "all the ills of the world stem from one source - man's desire to be autonomous from the One Who created them. The fall of man was not about two people eating an apple. It was about folks who wanted to do it their way. They wanted to decide for themselves what is right and what is wrong. They wanted to call the shots and run their lives. God, being the gentleman that He is, said "okay, have it your way". This was the birth of sin, the birth of humanism, the birth of relativism - and the birth of the consequences. The consequences of death, sickness, suffering... oh a look at this from Genesis 3... When God told Adam and Eve what would happen as a result of their newfound autonomy...
“Cursed is the ground because of you;
through painful toil you will eat food from it
all the days of your life.
It will produce thorns and thistles for you,
and you will eat the plants of the field.
By the sweat of your brow
you will eat your food
until you return to the ground.
Hmmm.... God was planning on providing all our needs, but we wanted to decide right and wrong for ourselves. So now we work - and our toil is painful.
The next part of the study was in the book of Judges where is said that everyone did what was right in their own eyes. The result - they lived in oppression.
Before this gets too depressing... the last part of the Bible study was about grace. It echoed the sermon that Kent preached last week. It talked about the Gospel message and Christ taking our shame and paying the price for our sins. It talked about who we are in Christ. It ended with that Scripture "and you shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free".
I felt validated. I know the truth - its not relative. Its a Person. And reality doesnt dictate what is right and what is wrong. Absolute truth is absolute eternal truth. It was absolute in the Garden of Eden, it was absolute during the time of the judges, it was absolute in 1776 when our country was founded by Christian men, and it is absolute in 2013.
Unfortunately for me, I cannot stop there. I was feeling good about myself - in fact, a little too good. God was not going to let me stay on my high horse. He reminded me of what Doug said when he preached on relativism. He told us not to take the time to find it in other people - but to recognize it in ourselves. That caught me off guard. There are sooooo many lessons and sermons that I just dont measure up to.. I fail, I fall short. I didnt think this was one of them.
So in my time with the Lord tonight, I asked Him to point out relativism in me. I think He was glad I asked and happily honored the request. He began softly and tenderly - "yes, Raquel.. you know the truth and the truth has set you free, but you cant get angry at those who do not know the truth and who are not free. I want your heart to feel sorry for them, as Mine does." Of course, I have to argue with Him... I said but Lord, some of these people... they know how to pray to you when they want something. If they need healing or their friends or family need healing - oh we are going to talk to God and ask Him to heal. We are going to pray and ask for His help. But they have no desire to know His heart. They can care less what makes Him happy or sad yet they want His hand to heal and bless and help. We can pray and God can answer, but His thoughts on a certain topic - well, they just arent "reality" I guess.
I think at that point God pulled out a mirror. He told me that I need not be angry. He isnt even angry. He is saddened. He is saddened when folks want to use Him as a vending machine to get their prayers answers but that's all they need Him for - like a good luck charm. But you know what makes Him even sadder - when one of His children, who know the truth, who know what makes Him happy or sad, acts in the same manner.
Like I tend to do. He showed me some areas where I apply relativism. (oh, yeah, the Bible says it - but does it really mean it literally, for today?) He showed me how I have not taken Him seriously when He asks me to communicate with Him about everything - yes everything. He showed me how I get upset because His will is not being done on earth as it is in heaven, but I am not making sure His will is done in my life, nor am I praying for His will to be done in the circumstances I face.
I am so wrapped up in my circumstances (or my REALITY) that His agenda is off my radar most of the time. In fact, I have been known to get upset because He hasnt made my reality what I want it to be. Isnt that the same as praying for healing but not caring about what He thinks??
So its a been a long day. I have been stressed, angered, delayed, inconvenienced, validated, encouraged, reassured, corrected.
But at the end of the day - I had a conversation with the Master of All Things - and He is my Daddy. And even when that conversation includes correction, it is comforting. We live in fallen world. Reality is far from right. And I am far from right in many ways. I need to be more concerned with my fallen self than with the fallen world. But He is the author and perfector of my faith and I will continue to rely on Him.
Until the trumpet sounds...
Let's start with a definiton. Relativism: The doctrine that knowledge, truth, and morality exist in relation to culture, society, or historical context, and are not absolute.
I get in these conversations all the time. I have a friend who I hang out with frequently and when we discuss certain things he will say "that's just not reality." He is usually right - its not reality. But the funny thing is, we weren't discussing reality, we were dicussing right vs wrong. We were discussing truth.
Today I had a conversation with someone and it was downright sad. Heartbreaking. I can almost feel the heart of God heavily sighing and shaking His head and saying "this is not what I intended". I could also almost picture the enemy getting a good hearty chuckle. When I mentioned my saddness over this, it was said that my ideals don't agree with reality. There were a couple funny things about that. First... they werent my ideals. God was saying "um, excuse me..." Even funnier though, was the notion that reality dictates right and wrong. Let's see...
Human trafficking is reality.
Abortion is reality.
Racism is reality.
Orphans are a reality.
Poverty and child starvation are reality.
Rape, violent crime, discrimination,... all reality.
Need I go on? All those things are how things really are... but are they right?
Let's talk about less obvious things... the receptionist works harder than the CEO but gets paid less than a quarter of what he does - reality, not right. The most difficult job I have ever worked in my life - McDonalds. Paid minimum wage. Reality - not right. We have communities surrounding Pittsburgh that people are afraid to drive through - reality - not right.
And lastly - relativism itself - a painful reality - but not right.
I was so defeated and discouraged as a drove home today. Stressed, personal to-do list getting longer, didn''t have time to stop at grocery store and was mentally unprepared for a meeting at 6. (all that was my reality - but it wasnt right). I didn't feel qualified to help a new believer with a Bible study, but that is exactly what I was about to do.
God ended up using a Bible study that I am not even a part of (I just help my friend prepare for their Bible study) to confirm me and encourage me.
The Bible study started with the fall of man. And the first page of the Bible study said that "all the ills of the world stem from one source - man's desire to be autonomous from the One Who created them. The fall of man was not about two people eating an apple. It was about folks who wanted to do it their way. They wanted to decide for themselves what is right and what is wrong. They wanted to call the shots and run their lives. God, being the gentleman that He is, said "okay, have it your way". This was the birth of sin, the birth of humanism, the birth of relativism - and the birth of the consequences. The consequences of death, sickness, suffering... oh a look at this from Genesis 3... When God told Adam and Eve what would happen as a result of their newfound autonomy...
“Cursed is the ground because of you;
through painful toil you will eat food from it
all the days of your life.
It will produce thorns and thistles for you,
and you will eat the plants of the field.
By the sweat of your brow
you will eat your food
until you return to the ground.
Hmmm.... God was planning on providing all our needs, but we wanted to decide right and wrong for ourselves. So now we work - and our toil is painful.
The next part of the study was in the book of Judges where is said that everyone did what was right in their own eyes. The result - they lived in oppression.
Before this gets too depressing... the last part of the Bible study was about grace. It echoed the sermon that Kent preached last week. It talked about the Gospel message and Christ taking our shame and paying the price for our sins. It talked about who we are in Christ. It ended with that Scripture "and you shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free".
I felt validated. I know the truth - its not relative. Its a Person. And reality doesnt dictate what is right and what is wrong. Absolute truth is absolute eternal truth. It was absolute in the Garden of Eden, it was absolute during the time of the judges, it was absolute in 1776 when our country was founded by Christian men, and it is absolute in 2013.
Unfortunately for me, I cannot stop there. I was feeling good about myself - in fact, a little too good. God was not going to let me stay on my high horse. He reminded me of what Doug said when he preached on relativism. He told us not to take the time to find it in other people - but to recognize it in ourselves. That caught me off guard. There are sooooo many lessons and sermons that I just dont measure up to.. I fail, I fall short. I didnt think this was one of them.
So in my time with the Lord tonight, I asked Him to point out relativism in me. I think He was glad I asked and happily honored the request. He began softly and tenderly - "yes, Raquel.. you know the truth and the truth has set you free, but you cant get angry at those who do not know the truth and who are not free. I want your heart to feel sorry for them, as Mine does." Of course, I have to argue with Him... I said but Lord, some of these people... they know how to pray to you when they want something. If they need healing or their friends or family need healing - oh we are going to talk to God and ask Him to heal. We are going to pray and ask for His help. But they have no desire to know His heart. They can care less what makes Him happy or sad yet they want His hand to heal and bless and help. We can pray and God can answer, but His thoughts on a certain topic - well, they just arent "reality" I guess.
I think at that point God pulled out a mirror. He told me that I need not be angry. He isnt even angry. He is saddened. He is saddened when folks want to use Him as a vending machine to get their prayers answers but that's all they need Him for - like a good luck charm. But you know what makes Him even sadder - when one of His children, who know the truth, who know what makes Him happy or sad, acts in the same manner.
Like I tend to do. He showed me some areas where I apply relativism. (oh, yeah, the Bible says it - but does it really mean it literally, for today?) He showed me how I have not taken Him seriously when He asks me to communicate with Him about everything - yes everything. He showed me how I get upset because His will is not being done on earth as it is in heaven, but I am not making sure His will is done in my life, nor am I praying for His will to be done in the circumstances I face.
I am so wrapped up in my circumstances (or my REALITY) that His agenda is off my radar most of the time. In fact, I have been known to get upset because He hasnt made my reality what I want it to be. Isnt that the same as praying for healing but not caring about what He thinks??
So its a been a long day. I have been stressed, angered, delayed, inconvenienced, validated, encouraged, reassured, corrected.
But at the end of the day - I had a conversation with the Master of All Things - and He is my Daddy. And even when that conversation includes correction, it is comforting. We live in fallen world. Reality is far from right. And I am far from right in many ways. I need to be more concerned with my fallen self than with the fallen world. But He is the author and perfector of my faith and I will continue to rely on Him.
Until the trumpet sounds...
Monday, July 1, 2013
Squall Storm
From Dictionary.com: A squall is a short but furious storm with strong winds , often small in area and moving at high speed.
I experienced a squall today. This one was not weather related but indoors. It was short and indeed furious. It happened so fast I found myself disoriented and wondering what had happened. The whole storm lasted about an hour. That's it.
Last night as I prepared for the work week, I knew I had a long and challenging week ahead - and month ahead for that matter. So I went to bed early with the plan to get into work extra early and hit it hard. Well, it didnt quite work that way. I managed to sleep through two alarms - I dont even remember walking to the other side of the room to shut one off.
So I woke up an hour later than I wanted to. But it was okay. I got to work at 7:30 (6:30 was my goal) but I just decided I would not go to Curves and would work through lunch. I did hit it hard and I got quite a bit done. The funny thing is, even though the work was challenging, I was having a good day. I was listening to worship music and still cherishing the awesome service at church yesterday. I had been praying - asking the Lord for help to do my job and do it well.
For 8 and half hours, everything was good. The work was challenging and some people were challenging, but it was just normal office stress and I was doing fine. A few people were annoying but I treated them nicely regardless. I was amazed at how well a busy Monday was going.
Then - it hit. The 4pm squall. None of the events that occurred were big deals - in and of themselves. But multiple issues popped up all at once. I was trying to get an answer from someone I had emailed early in the morning. I had another person asking me if a spreadsheet was done. Another instant message came asking a question that was so off the wall but still I needed to stop and answer.
Then the boss messaged me wanting a status on the guy that had been ignoring me. All this was happening at once - 4 people needed me for something (all right now of course) and the guy that had ignored me - he asked me to do something that should have taken 5 minutes. But because I was unsure how to do it, and I had 4 other people asking me for things - it took 50 mins. That was 50 minutes that I did not have to spare - 50 minutes that I could have been getting work done.
I wasn't angry at anyone. I was just overwhelmed by the circumstances. And I guess I wasnt communicating clearly because I was grossly misunderstood - and it always gets me when that happens considering I am the most transparent person on earth.
I left work and drove home in tears. The events were not a big deal. What was bothering me is the never ending feeling of giving 120% and still coming up short. I try so hard. And this is not the only area of life this applies to. I feel like this in multiple areas. I try with everything in me. I give 120%. Yet, I always seem to fall short. I'm never good enough. (I dont actually believe that - it was just how I felt processing this stuff). Once again, I felt like Michele Kwan - working like crazy, pushing yourself, practicing, rehearsing, trying - never able to grab the gold.
I am a firm believer in "if at first you don't succeed, get up and keep trying". But sometimes the trying gets old and I am tempted to say the heck with it - in all applicable areas of life.
Thankfully, I had a wonderful evening with my friend. Was able to vent and then just relax for a few hours after eating an awesome dinner. My friend left at 9:30 and I got the dishes washed, dried, and put away, the cabinets and stove cleaned and the kitchen floor swept. Was about to go to bed when the memory of the squall returned.
The funny thing is - I had one bad hour out of the whole day. The rest of the day was great. Only one hour was bad. So why does that hour have to define my day rather than all the other good hours combined? I think its because of how I measure myself. I did give 120%. But I still failed. I didn't hit the mark.
At that thought, I had to smile. God can use anything to show Himself and today was a picture of the Gospel message. See the Bible says "ALL have sinned and FALL SHORT of the glory of God". It says that all of the righteousness that we can produce on our own is like filthy rags to our Holy God.
And it says His strength is made perfect in our weakness.
No matter how hard we (humanity) try, we cannot be "good enough" for God. We can't be righteous enough to spend eternity in heaven or even enter His presence for fellowship. We fall short - and there is where we meet Jesus. Jesus is the only one who has never sinned, yet He willingly took on our sin - enabling us to have a relationship with God. When God looks at me, He sees righteousness. Not mine - its the righteousness of Christ. Almost 25 years ago, I accepted Jesus's offer of an exchange. He said he would take my sin and in exchange give me His righteousness. So if God's sees me through the lens of Jesus's blood, why am I getting so overwhelmed because I don't measure up?
I am using a different ruler - that is why I am falling short.
As this began to dawn on me, that new song from Amy Grant popped into my head. The song is appropriately called "Don't Try So Hard."
The lyrics:
Another Monday comes and I just wanna breathe
'Cause it's a long, long week for someone wired to please
I keep taking my aim, pushing it higher
Wanna shine bright, even brighter now
Wish I would tell myself
Don't try so hard
God gives you grace and you can't earn it
Don't think that you're not worth it
Because you are
He gave you His love and He's not leaving
Gave you His Son so you'd believe it
You're lovely even with your scars
Don't try so hard
Do you remember how the summers felt when we were kids?
Oh, we didn't think much about it, we just lived
Taking our time, beautiful leisure
When did we start, trying to measure up
And all this time, love has been trying to tell us
Don't try so hard
God gives you grace and you can't earn it
Don't think that you're not worth it
Because you are
He gave you His love and He's not leaving
Gave you His Son so you'd believe it
You're lovely even with your scars
Don't try so hard
So the way I see it - I have two choices. The day is over. I can either go to bed lamenting that I didn't measure up - to the wrong ruler, or I can go to bed grateful that the blood of Jesus never loses it power and has covered me once again. I can remember July 1, 2013 as the day of the one hour squall storm, or I can remember it as the day God's strength was made perfect in my weakness.
Yeah - the latter sounds good to me.
Good night.
I experienced a squall today. This one was not weather related but indoors. It was short and indeed furious. It happened so fast I found myself disoriented and wondering what had happened. The whole storm lasted about an hour. That's it.
Last night as I prepared for the work week, I knew I had a long and challenging week ahead - and month ahead for that matter. So I went to bed early with the plan to get into work extra early and hit it hard. Well, it didnt quite work that way. I managed to sleep through two alarms - I dont even remember walking to the other side of the room to shut one off.
So I woke up an hour later than I wanted to. But it was okay. I got to work at 7:30 (6:30 was my goal) but I just decided I would not go to Curves and would work through lunch. I did hit it hard and I got quite a bit done. The funny thing is, even though the work was challenging, I was having a good day. I was listening to worship music and still cherishing the awesome service at church yesterday. I had been praying - asking the Lord for help to do my job and do it well.
For 8 and half hours, everything was good. The work was challenging and some people were challenging, but it was just normal office stress and I was doing fine. A few people were annoying but I treated them nicely regardless. I was amazed at how well a busy Monday was going.
Then - it hit. The 4pm squall. None of the events that occurred were big deals - in and of themselves. But multiple issues popped up all at once. I was trying to get an answer from someone I had emailed early in the morning. I had another person asking me if a spreadsheet was done. Another instant message came asking a question that was so off the wall but still I needed to stop and answer.
Then the boss messaged me wanting a status on the guy that had been ignoring me. All this was happening at once - 4 people needed me for something (all right now of course) and the guy that had ignored me - he asked me to do something that should have taken 5 minutes. But because I was unsure how to do it, and I had 4 other people asking me for things - it took 50 mins. That was 50 minutes that I did not have to spare - 50 minutes that I could have been getting work done.
I wasn't angry at anyone. I was just overwhelmed by the circumstances. And I guess I wasnt communicating clearly because I was grossly misunderstood - and it always gets me when that happens considering I am the most transparent person on earth.
I left work and drove home in tears. The events were not a big deal. What was bothering me is the never ending feeling of giving 120% and still coming up short. I try so hard. And this is not the only area of life this applies to. I feel like this in multiple areas. I try with everything in me. I give 120%. Yet, I always seem to fall short. I'm never good enough. (I dont actually believe that - it was just how I felt processing this stuff). Once again, I felt like Michele Kwan - working like crazy, pushing yourself, practicing, rehearsing, trying - never able to grab the gold.
I am a firm believer in "if at first you don't succeed, get up and keep trying". But sometimes the trying gets old and I am tempted to say the heck with it - in all applicable areas of life.
Thankfully, I had a wonderful evening with my friend. Was able to vent and then just relax for a few hours after eating an awesome dinner. My friend left at 9:30 and I got the dishes washed, dried, and put away, the cabinets and stove cleaned and the kitchen floor swept. Was about to go to bed when the memory of the squall returned.
The funny thing is - I had one bad hour out of the whole day. The rest of the day was great. Only one hour was bad. So why does that hour have to define my day rather than all the other good hours combined? I think its because of how I measure myself. I did give 120%. But I still failed. I didn't hit the mark.
At that thought, I had to smile. God can use anything to show Himself and today was a picture of the Gospel message. See the Bible says "ALL have sinned and FALL SHORT of the glory of God". It says that all of the righteousness that we can produce on our own is like filthy rags to our Holy God.
And it says His strength is made perfect in our weakness.
No matter how hard we (humanity) try, we cannot be "good enough" for God. We can't be righteous enough to spend eternity in heaven or even enter His presence for fellowship. We fall short - and there is where we meet Jesus. Jesus is the only one who has never sinned, yet He willingly took on our sin - enabling us to have a relationship with God. When God looks at me, He sees righteousness. Not mine - its the righteousness of Christ. Almost 25 years ago, I accepted Jesus's offer of an exchange. He said he would take my sin and in exchange give me His righteousness. So if God's sees me through the lens of Jesus's blood, why am I getting so overwhelmed because I don't measure up?
I am using a different ruler - that is why I am falling short.
As this began to dawn on me, that new song from Amy Grant popped into my head. The song is appropriately called "Don't Try So Hard."
The lyrics:
Another Monday comes and I just wanna breathe
'Cause it's a long, long week for someone wired to please
I keep taking my aim, pushing it higher
Wanna shine bright, even brighter now
Wish I would tell myself
Don't try so hard
God gives you grace and you can't earn it
Don't think that you're not worth it
Because you are
He gave you His love and He's not leaving
Gave you His Son so you'd believe it
You're lovely even with your scars
Don't try so hard
Do you remember how the summers felt when we were kids?
Oh, we didn't think much about it, we just lived
Taking our time, beautiful leisure
When did we start, trying to measure up
And all this time, love has been trying to tell us
Don't try so hard
God gives you grace and you can't earn it
Don't think that you're not worth it
Because you are
He gave you His love and He's not leaving
Gave you His Son so you'd believe it
You're lovely even with your scars
Don't try so hard
So the way I see it - I have two choices. The day is over. I can either go to bed lamenting that I didn't measure up - to the wrong ruler, or I can go to bed grateful that the blood of Jesus never loses it power and has covered me once again. I can remember July 1, 2013 as the day of the one hour squall storm, or I can remember it as the day God's strength was made perfect in my weakness.
Yeah - the latter sounds good to me.
Good night.
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