Born to Make Mistakes

Okay, I'm showing my age here because the song, "I'm Only Human," by the Human League is rolling through my head. Thus, my title. And while the song brings back peaceful memories of my youth, really, the most frustrating part of life is that I am human. I make mistakes. Sometimes they're intentional ("I know I shouldn't do this, but..."). Sometimes they're unintentional ("I want to do the right thing...") But whatever my intentions, they're still mistakes. And the older I get, the more obvious they become.

I remember the optimism of youth. In my late teens and early twenties, I believed that I could straighten up if I only wanted to. My philosophy was that if my behavior only hurt me, I could live with that. My limit stopped at the point where I thought I might be hurting someone else.

I was such a fool.

Becoming a parent opened my eyes. Young people, listen closely. Whatever hurts a child, hurts a parent. No matter what age you are, if your parents are living, you are a child. Recently, a precious older lady that I knew from church died. I didn't know she was close to death and didn't find out about her condition until after her funeral. It brings tears to my eyes, even tonight, because I wish I'd had one more time to speak with her. To pray with her. To reassure her that I would continue to pray after she was gone... for her daughter. This sweet lady, who must have been around 80 or older, was heartbroken because her daughter had made bad choices and was suffering the consequences of her decisions. As of our last conversation, her daughter was still making bad decisions. My friend worried over what would happen to her daughter when she was gone and felt that she had failed her as a mother. She suffered because a person she loved suffered.

At twenty, I made decisions recklessly because I was self-absorbed and couldn't see beyond myself. I didn't want to hurt strangers and casual friends, but I didn't give a thought to the hurt I caused the people who loved me most. I took those who loved me for granted. And I thought I was strong enough to change whenever I felt I was ready.

And, again, becoming a parent taught me otherwise. Because I had a child, an innocent, I had to change. Every little decision of mine affected him. I may have been willing to play fast and loose with my own future, but I couldn't be that way with his. The kind of man he would become depended in part on the kind of woman I was, and I had to fix that.

The joke was on me.

Because I couldn't fix it.

In fact, the harder I tried to make things right, the worse they became. I couldn't control my temper. I couldn't control my emotions. I couldn't eliminate my fear. I had limits, and for the first time in my life, I was forced to confront them. It was easy to think I could do anything I wanted when I had never actually tested myself. Being self-indulgent is easy. Being self-disciplined requires constant diligence. Becoming self-disciplined when you've been self-indulgent practically requires an act of God.

It did for me.

When I tried to straighten up my life, I realized I was broken. It wasn't a simple realization. I didn't wake up one day and think to myself, "I don't know how to make good decisions." I made what I thought were good decisions and watched them fall apart one by one. The more they fell, the harder I tried. The harder I tried, the harder they fell. I thought I knew how to make life work, but things just didn't go the way I planned. At the end of the day, all my careful thoughts, planning and work just weren't enough. I wasn't enough. The day I realized I was broken was the day I understood that my marriage was falling apart, my worst fears were being realized, and I was about to become a single mom of two boys.

But I wasn't done.

I gave it one last shot. I turned to Jesus. What did I have to lose? I was losing everything anyway. My way didn't work and I didn't want to raise my boys without their dad. Jesus said to treat others the way you want to be treated. I did. Jesus said that in his kingdom if you want to be the greatest then you must become the servant of all. I did. Jesus said not to return insult for insult. I didn't. If someone asks for your shirt, give him your coat, too. I did. And I came to a decision. Whatever it took, I would do it. If setting a good example for my boys and raising them the best way I could took me suffering and sacrificing until I was an old lady, I... would... do... it.

And then God performed a miracle.

He opened my husband's eyes so that he could see me. He saw the changes I made and he saw my heart. And he became willing to meet me where I was.

Jesus did not come to hang out with perfect people. He came to change our hearts so that we could love each other even though we aren't perfect. We forgive so that we can love. We can't love if we can't forgive.

I learned how to love another person by reading the words of Jesus, but I didn't stop there. When I kept reading, I was in for a great surprise. The Bible is the story of a bunch of broken people. Every hero of the Bible was human and made mistakes. Big mistakes. Some of those mistakes resulted in hatred between brothers that lasted generations. Others resulted in pain that lasted only one lifetime. Some were only the weakness of a season of life that left that "hero" changed in some way or allowed God to act as Healer.

"For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope." Romans 15:4

I'm a parent now. And my "children" aren't only those I've given birth to. People have come into my life that have become a part of who I am and I love them. When they hurt, I hurt and when they are happy, I am happy. If there's one thing I wish I could give to everyone I love, it is the hope that I have. Life isn't easy and I still make mistakes. But they don't break me now. I have a rock solid foundation. "We are hard-pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed." (2 Corinthians 4:8-11) When I reach my limits and I'm at the end of my strength, I find there is strength still in me. This is the gift of God. He never leaves us. When I hit bottom, I find a rock there. When all else is gone, I cannot be moved. I feel like what's on the outside of me is soft and easily bruised and hurt, but what's on the inside is solid, heavy, and indestructible.

Alone, we are only human. But with God, we are more than human. And mistakes are learning experiences, not life-ending experiences. With God, our weaknesses make us stronger and His strength is revealed in us. "I can do all things through Christ, who gives me strength." (Philippians 4:13)

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I came that they may have life and have it abundantly." -Jesus (John 10:10)

By It, I Can See Everything Else

At 14, I walked out of the Eye Doctor's office in sheer amazement: I could see the leaves on the trees and the cracks in the road. I remember riding home in the car staring at the road, watching it go by, catching sight of cracks, seeing something that had always been there, but that I had never seen in my everyday life for the 14 years of my existence.

The next day, when I went to school, I could see people walking far across the courtyard and easily recognize them. I had recognized them before I had glasses, of course. I had managed to adapt wonderfully and learned to recognize people by the way they moved and by their body shape. I didn't need to see details to know what I was looking at. In fact, I had adapted so well that I didn't even know I needed glasses.

Well, that statement may not be completely accurate. I had tried on my dad's glasses when I was twelve and seen more clearly, so I knew in the back of my mind that I had problems with my vision. But, I had no idea of the scope of what I was missing. I performed well in all of my classes and, to my knowledge, my vision didn't prevent me from doing any of the activities that I was interested in doing. I coped very well and relied more heavily on my sense of smell and hearing to tell me what my eyes could not.

In short, I thought I was getting along fine. I didn't have a clue what I was missing because I couldn't conceive of its existence. I could see the leaves shimmering magically in the distance, even though I couldn't see the crisp tremblings of the leaves. I could see the variations in color on the road, like pebbles under the surface of murky water, but I couldn't see the cracks and outlines. I could see the forest, but I couldn't see the trees... and I didn't even know they could be seen.

"I believe in Christ like I believe in the sun - not because I can see it, but by it, I can see everything else." This quote is attributed to C. S. Lewis. I bring it up because I remember another day where I was riding home in the car staring in amazement. Once again, I was seeing things I never knew existed. But I wasn't staring at the road and looking at cracks, I was staring at everything I looked upon. For the second time in my life, a vision impairment I didn't know I had was lifted from my eyes and I saw more clearly. But, the first time the impairment was physical, this time, it was spiritual.

People want proof that God exists. But how do you prove to someone who thinks he, or she, can see fine that they have vision problems unless you put glasses on that person? And God is spiritual glasses. My second restoration of sight was not less stunning than my first. In fact, it was greater because if affected more than just what my eyes could see. You might be asking yourself if my vision, my physical sight was really affected that day that I truly knew God for the first time. And my answer to you is, yes! I can't explain it except to say that colors grew more distinct and bright, and the world regained an amazement for me that I hadn't felt since I was a young child first learning about the wonders of my world. Do you wonder why some Christians are so adamant about their faith, even in the sight of what seems to be overwhelming evidence against God's existence? It's because we have had real proof. I can't share that kind of proof with you, except to tell you about it. But, that doesn't make it any less real. Until you put on God's "glasses", you have no idea what I'm talking about; but, other Christians do.

And, I said that this second restoration of sight affected more than just my physical vision, and that's true and tangible, too. The relationship of everyone and everything to everyone and everything else took on entirely new meaning. That day, you became much more precious to me. Why do Christians persist in trying to share their God with you? Why won't they quit when no one wants to hear what they have to say? Why are they sometimes willing to die to share what they call the "Good News" with the very people who want to kill them? It's because we see you with new eyes and a new heart. It's because we know how precious you are. It's because we know what our life was like without these new eyes and the most selfish and hurtful thing we could possibly do would be to keep this to ourselves and refuse to share the incredible Gift we've been given. If I give everything else I own away to the poor and spend my life serving those who can't take care of themselves, but withhold this knowledge of God for myself, then my life has been meaningless.

Put on the glasses. Accept the gift. Live a life of great meaning.

"You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart." - Jeremiah 29:13

What About the Children?

Some of the people I really care about have some real issues with God. Chiefly, that He seems to be unfair. One special young woman once said to me, "Why would He make people knowing that some of them would go to hell?" I think of her all the time and the many things I would like to say, if ever given the chance again. But the most recent question of fairness happened last week in the Sandy Hook school shooting. "Where was God in all this? How could God let this happen? How is this fair or just to these children?"

Well, I tend to be quite long-winded, so I can't really give thorough answers to all those questions here. But I do want to give evidence that God loves and provides for children even when he doesn't appear to care. Specifically, that He has taken care of the children that did not survive the Sandy Hook massacre.

When someone we love dies, that person is lost to us. We no longer see or hear from our loved one. We can't hold him, we can't talk to her, the rhythm of our life is disrupted and we are separated from the one we love. Death seems so final and permanent to us. But this is not the case for God. Death creates an obstacle for us, but it removes one for God. He calls to us in life and, if we accept Him, then when we are absent from the body, we are present with the Lord. As Jesus told the thief on the cross, "I assure you: Today you will be with Me in paradise." (Luke 23:43)

But what about children who have not been raised Christian? Are they condemned to hell?

God's Word, His Message to us, the Bible indicates that children are exceptional and are accepted into Heaven with God. In the words God and Jesus spoke to His people and to us, there appears to be a time when we are young before we are held accountable for knowing the difference between good and evil. There are two clear examples of this "grace" period while we are young. The first occurs after the Exodus, when the Israelites were rescued while in Egypt. God led his people to the promised land, but they sinned greatly against Him, so He refused to let those people enter. This is what He told them through Moses, his prophet and their leader, "None of these men in this evil generation will see the good land I swore to give your fathers except Caleb the son of Jephunneh (and Joshua son of Nun)... Your little children, whom you said would be plunder, your sons who don't know good from evil will enter there. I will give them the land,and they will take possession of it." (Deuteronomy 1:35-39)

The second account occurs in the book of Isaiah in a prophecy about Jesus himself, following some well-known words that we've often heard at Christmas-time. "Therefore, the Lord Himself will give you a sign: The virgin will conceive, have a son, and name him Immanuel. By the time he learns to reject what is bad and choose what is good, he will be eating butter and honey. For before the boy knows to reject what is bad and choose what is good, the land of the two kings you dread will be abandoned." (Isaiah 7:14-16) We don't know much about Jesus' childhood, and we're given no indication as to what kind of child he was until he was 12 and old enough to travel to Jerusalem with his parents for the Passover feast, but we do know that there was a time before he knew "to reject what is bad and choose what is good."

Jesus, Himself, gives us the third glimpse of how God views children and His relationship to children. "Some people were bringing little children to Him so He might touch them, but His disciples rebuked them. When Jesus saw it, He was indignant and said to them, 'Let the little children come to Me. Don't stop them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I assure you: Whoever does not welcome the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.' After taking them in His arms, He laid His hands on them and blessed them." (Mark 10:13-16)

What does it mean to not know good from evil and to not know to reject what is bad and choose what is good? God is the ultimate Judge and he is a righteous Judge. (Psalm 50:6) He knows our hearts and we are judged according to our works (Revelation 20) For those who accept the offer that Christ makes to each of us to pay our penalty in exchange for giving our lives to Him, Jesus stands in our place and we are not condemned. But the righteous Judge that is our God has admitted in the past to withholding judgment from those He knows are too young. Where there is no judgement, there is no condemnation. To be condemned by God is to be separated from Him for eternity. And if the children are not separated from God and Jesus, they are with Him.

God is Light, He is Love, and He is Truth. To be with God is to be with Perfect Love and perfect love casts out all fear (1 John 4:18) We have not been told everything. God is content to let some mysteries remain mysteries. Yet he has revealed many other mysteries to us and given us enough knowledge of his character, and hints of His plans that we can have confidence in His love and mercy. He does not punish the innocent and the innocent are with Him. Whatever happens in our past, our past is put behind us when we are with Him. He is the great Healer and Comforter. He is the loving and merciful Judge. He is the One Who sent His Son, Our Savior, so that we can share His love forever.

The Redemption of Pain

Pain is an unfortunate part of life, but it is also unavoidable. People who run with all their might find that pain finds them. And those who open their lives to people who are hurting frequently get hurt themselves. Pain even works its way into the midst of healthy loving families and people who have joined together to do good. Churches which strive to follow, live by and share the teachings of the man of love, Christ himself, are full of people who have been hurt by churches that were trying to follow, live by and share the teachings of Christ.

So, what's the point of it all? Why try so hard? If everyone suffers pain, what does it matter how you live?

It matters, because Christ came to redeem our lives. What that means is that He takes what was bad and makes it good. Not only does he change our lives into something better, but he changes our experiences, too. He takes what was meant for evil and uses it for our benefit. This is what redemption is. This is what makes pain in a Christian's life different.

I speak from experience. A few years ago, and I'm going to be intentionally vague so as not to malign anyone, something happened that rocked my Christian world. I was involved in ministry, but struggling deeply with personal difficulties, and something built to the point that it exploded. I was completely shaken. For a few months, I couldn't even go to church for fear that my crying would raise questions I didn't want to have to answer. The situation was bad enough, I didn't want to make it worse. And to complicate matters, I still loved the other people involved and believed that they were doing their best. But we were all stumbling our way through this and hurting each other in the process.

In a few months, I was able to return to church, but those relationships haven't been the same since. And I haven't been the same since. Most notably, I have avoided any serious commitment to ministry and my one attempt at a return failed miserably. Consequently, I have suffered, my family has suffered and those I should have reached out to have suffered.

But, God is in the business of using suffering and he has used it in me. In the time that has passed since the suffering, he has changed me. I was partly responsible for the "something that exploded" because of my attitudes, my pride, and my inability to trust God to work in the situations of life and the people around me. He has softened me, humbled me, and made me more considerate and thoughtful.

Now, he had to make the initial changes with a butcher knife, but He has since changed to the soft polishing cloth and oil. What do I mean? In addition, to putting people in my life who have helped rebuild my confidence and just love me, He has gently shown me what has been preventing me from fully moving forward. One morning a couple of weeks ago, as I was getting ready for church, He revealed to me that I had not really forgiven the other people that were involved: the people who I felt had not seen the real me and had not accepted my attempts to reach out. I had forgiven those involved in the "explosion," but I had not forgiven the misunderstandings that led up to it. And forgiveness is freeing! Before you forgive a person, you still feel the need to "do" something about the wrong. But when you truly forgive, the problem just goes away; that's one less thing on your shoulder.

And then there was this morning. I forgave, but what now? Should I let them know it? Should I contact them? Write a letter? Or keep quiet? And it hit me! Really, I still wanted their understanding. Instead of seeing their lack of understanding as due to their own issues or difficulties at the time, I felt they were holding out from me; that they didn't want to understand. Really, I was still holding them accountable for something I had had to let go of in myself: insensitivity. So, my answer was "no," I didn't need to let them know.

True forgiveness means accepting that whatever in them contributed to the problem is no longer my problem. Were they unable to understand? Then, that was a sad flaw in them that I hope has been remedied just as I hope it has been remedied in me. Were they unwilling to understand? Then, that is a sinful attitude that is God's problem to deal with. Either way, as I release them, I can let it go and my own life will be more meaningful. And whatever the reasons this all happened, I am a better person because they did. The changes in me were needed and I welcome them looking back.

So, yes, pain comes for us all. But it does not need to cripple our spirits. Trust God to work in all situations and relationships and He will... and we will be better for it. And, as Galatians 6:9-10  says, "So we must not get tired of doing good, for we will reap at the proper time if we don't give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, we must work for the good of all, especially for those who belong to the household of faith."
And don't forget, some trees take years to produce good fruit.

The Lesson of the Fish

Today, one of my sons' friends came over to visit, being off of school for Thanksgiving week. Among the many varied activities they tried, they decided to catch some fish; and they did. They got a net and a hole-less flower pot and scooped some small fish into the pot to bring back to the house. My son and his friend showed his brothers the fish they caught and then moved on to another activity, leaving the little fish in the hole-less flower pot outside.

And they were forgotten.

Then, my husband came home from work and noticed the fish in the pot... and one poor little fish, dead on the cement, who had tried to escape the flower pot and get back in the water. My son said that the fish had really wanted to get back in the ditch. To which I replied that they all wanted to get back to the ditch. But in his attempt to escape, he died. And the thought occurred to me that some of us, myself included, could really learn from the lesson of the fish.

Sometimes, our situation is really bad. Truth be told, if the little fish had stayed in the flower pot, forgotten, he would have eventually died from lack of oxygen. His desire to escape was a valid one. But he didn't wait for rescue, he took matters in his own hands and ended up dead on the sidewalk. His little fish brothers are being returned to the ditch, and life and freedom, as I write. If he had waited, he would have been with them.

So, this is the lesson: Sometimes, when we get tired of waiting on God to save us from our situation, we take matters into our own hands and make our situation worse than before. If we can suffer a little while longer, have just a little more patience and faith, then just maybe we will live long enough to see the sweeter waters God has planned for our future.

Destructive Feminism

I have a friend on Facebook that wrote regarding his religious beliefs that he hopes, as to whatever is out there, that he or she is on his side. This statement got me to thinking about the use of the masculine pronoun "He" to refer to God. The Bible teaches that God is Spirit. God is not limited in any way by gender. He does not need a counterpart to reproduce. If God wants to create another being, He simply does it. He also doesn't need a physical body to commune with those He loves. In the form of the Holy Spirit, He enters and indwells those with whom He shares a love relationship. The Bible also teaches that when we die, we neither marry nor are given in marriage, but are like angels of God in heaven, suggesting that gender is irrelevant in heaven. God is also given both male and female qualities throughout the Bible, suggesting that God is above gender… He is something greater than either man or woman, but more like both together. So, why then use the masculine gender to refer to God? (And you're probably wondering what this has to do with feminism, but I'm getting to that.)

In a patriarchal society, and ancient Israel was a patriarchal society, to refer to God in the feminine would have meant to relate him to the "inferior" sex. The Israelites naturally would have called God "He" to acknowledge His superiority and headship of Israel. So, the question I eventually came around to is, "Are we still a patriarchal society?" And here is my conclusion: modern feminism has reinforced American patriarchalism.

So, why do I say this? After all, women have come a long way from being relegated to the home, right? Well, here it is: American women (and probably European women) have reached for equality with men by adopting traditionally masculine traits and devaluing traditionally feminine roles. Modern women want to do what men do and be what men have historically been. And they've been moderately, though not completely, successful. My thought is that by trying to assume male roles, women have essentially said, "You're right, it's better to be a man than to be a woman."

If we really want to challenge the patriarchal system, then we need to restore value to traditional female roles. Matriarchal systems value motherhood and the traits and experience that are required to be a nurturing mother and support a strong family system. While modern women have proven they can be successful in a great variety of professions, we have at the same time done serious damage in respect to the roles that make women distinctly different from men. Culturally, we have joined men in rejecting the value of women who devote their lives to the home. If we truly want triumph, American women need to acknowledge that there are some things that women are particularly suited to do, just as there are some things that men are particularly suited to do… and be proud of that, rather than trying to be "little" men.

Do I have a certain amount of disrespect for current-day feminism? Yes. I think they have disrespected what makes us essentially feminine. Feminists have given men the right to judge women by a new set of standards: one that raises our standards professionally, but lowers our standards personally. We have given up as much as we have gained, and therefore have we really gained anything? Or have we simply given up something that made us, as women, special to gain something that makes us, as people, common? I think, personally, that we should respect both the commonalities and the differences between the sexes, rather than trading what we are, the heart of the family, to try and prove what we're not: namely, inferior.

 

Uncoordinated

When I was a young girl, I went through periods of life when I was awkward and gangly. As the years passed, I grew more coordinated and became somewhat graceful as I began to master the movements of my limbs and the thoughts of my mind. But now, I feel awkward and gangly like a child; as though I'm going through some odd adult growth spurt. I haven't yet learned to adjust to my new proportions.

As a young adult, I felt I had come into my own. I felt confident in my skills and abilities. My years of training had come together to prepare me for a future that I watched being realized. Of course, I had not foreseen the particulars of my future. But though certain details morphed and changed, the direction I was headed in fit well with my idea of who I was.

But, in time, something changed. This change led to a chain reaction: a chain reaction of change. I had not imagined what would happen when I became a mother. How could I have known that I would find myself unacceptable and incompetent? How could I have guessed that I would want to change so much about myself?

On the day that I first realized I could not remain the person I had become, I began a journey into a future that I had never imagined for myself. And so, my graceful limbs began to stretch in a new direction. My thoughts and the way I reasoned grew into something I had never known. I became someone new, someone I had never met, and someone I had never even imagined.

Here I stand today in a new life facing an unfamiliar future. I am gawky in this life like a teenager, fumbling between a confusing child-likeness and an emerging maturity. I bounce between both, not really completely either. And I long for the grace I once had, if not the life. I yearn to be comfortable in my own skin and confident of my future.

And yet, in a way, I am more comfortable than at any other time in my life. I have traded bad for good, complacency for activity, common use for special use. I have traded an old life in on a new.

But this was not a future I had envisioned. I don't really know how I fit in this future or where it leads me. I never anticipated this use for my talents and training; they have not prepared me for this. And so I wait, not altogether patiently, for the day I regain my coordination.

Not Alone

My 9 year old came into our room the other night, so upset from a dream that woke him up that he couldn't speak. For a while, he refused to talk about it. He watched some television with us while he calmed down and relaxed. Before long, he softly said to me, "I'm ready to talk about it." Then, he proceeded to tell me his dream.

He was walking throughout the house looking for his brothers and for us, but we were not there. Then, he walked down to his grandfather's house. But he was not there either. In fear, he realized that he was alone. Everybody he loved and trusted to care for him was gone. His nightmare was that he was alone.

Don't we have that problem, those of us who believe in God? As we face the unknown, our lack of faith stems from a fear that God will ultimately not be there. I'm not saying that this is a fear that He doesn't exist. But sometimes we fear that He won't be there with us.

When money is tight in September and we don't know how we'll pay for our house note or rent in October, aren't we really afraid that God won't be there for us in October? God has promised to take care of us and provide for us in Matthew, Chapter 6:25-34 "Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature? So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. "Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? Therefore do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you.Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble." Yet, we still worry about tomorrow.

We know God has taken care of us in the past. We know God has taken care of us today. We know logically that because God is faithful and always has been faithful, we can trust Him to be faithful in the future. But underneath the surface lies the fear, the one the prompts the nightmare, that when we go looking for God, He won't be there. What if the day we go looking for Him, we just don't find Him? What if one day, we're all alone?

Why do I bring this up? In a way, it's scandalous to suggest that a Christian might harbor this fear, even when trust and belief rest on the surface. How is it possible that both trust and fear lie in the same breast? I honestly don't have the answer to that myself... except to say that we remain human, even when touched by the divine. The fear occasionally sits side-by-side in my own heart and once rested in the heart of a man who spoke to Jesus, "Immediately the father of the child cried out and said with tears, 'Lord, I believe; help my unbelief!'" (Mark 9:24)

My son knows that we will be here for him tomorrow. In fact, when he wakes up, he will expect it. During his waking hours, it would never occur to him that we would simply disappear. Yet underneath it all, that particular fear exists in him and most likely influences his behavior in ways we cannot imagine. Similarly, we consciously expect God to come through for us. Yet underneath it all, a small seed of doubt causes us to respond in ways that don't reflect what we consciously believe.

How do we combat this dangerous kernel of doubt? I would be lying if I suggested that I have mastered this fear myself. But I think Jesus gave us the keys to doing so. He definitely knew we would struggle with this the fear of abandonment. In a conversation on another issue, Jesus told His disciples, "whoever humbles himself as this little child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven." (Matthew 18:4) So what did my little child do when he encountered the nighttime evidence of this fear? He ran straight to us. He came crying into my arms. At the fear that we would not be there, he hurried to come find us. And he did find us.

When we grown-ups encounter our fear, do we run to God? I know that I am guilty of staying to myself. Sometimes, I cuddle my fear; afraid that if I run to find God, I won't find him. If my son had done the same, he would have stayed in his bed crying alone when my arms were nearby and ready to comfort him. How sad that we, as adults, sometimes lie crying in our beds, feeling alone, while God is ready to hold us in His arms and calm our fears with His Presence. How it must hurt Him, as a loving parent, when He longs to comfort us and we sit, instead, rocking in a corner hugging our knees refusing to get up and walk into His arms.

I thank you, God, that you are a God who reaches out to comfort us and stands ready and waiting to receive us into your arms. "For He Himself has said, 'I will never leave you nor forsake you.'" (Hebrews 13:5)[and] "Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the age." (Matthew 28:20)

Right Things for the Wrong Reason

"Be careful not to practice your righteousness in front of people, to be seen by them. Otherwise, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven. So whenever you give to the poor, don't sound a trumpet before you, as the hypocrites do in the synagogues and on the streets, to be applauded by people. I assure you: They've got their reward! But when you give to the poor, don't let your left hand know what your right hand is doing so that your giving may be in secret. And your Father who sees in secret will reward you." – Matthew 6:1-4

When I was a younger woman, maybe even a teenager, I discovered this truth about myself: it made me feel good to do nice things for others. I used to make a point to do nice things, because I liked the way it made me feel. I felt good about myself while I was helping someone else. To me, it was the best of both worlds. In my mind, everyone benefitted.

But I was wrong. I didn't delude myself about my reasons for helping others; I always knew it was really about me. I just didn't understand what I was doing to myself. Helping others was simply another way for me to feed my own selfishness.

It doesn't sound like a bad deal, helping others to make yourself feel good. But it has the same fatal flaw as the belief that marriage is all about feeling love.; when it stopped feeling good, I didn't want to do it.

My help was fickle. It depended less on the other person's need and more on my desire to feel good about myself. But this is not true love. Christ's love taught me that. I am supposed to love others and consider them as more important that myself. If we all lived by Christian love, live would be a utopia. Crime and deception would disappear. Earth would be heavenly.

But this kind of love does not come naturally. The kind of love that does not depend on how I feel requires work, sacrifice and humility. For this reason, Christian love is an ideal that humanity will not achieve on its own. Not many people are willing to live this kind of life; not with the level of commitment that it requires. But this is what makes the love of Christ different. This is why He asks us to give our entire beings to Him. This is what He gave to us. And this is what we have to offer the world: a radical, beautiful, life-changing kind of love.

I challenge myself and anyone who reads this to show Christ to the world and commit to Him, to being like Him, to showing His love to the world and, by doing so, to make the world a better place.

Schizophrenic Blogger

I can't quite seem to commit. I keep changing my mind about what I want to put on this blog. I originally created this blog because I was doing Bible Study and wanted to put my thoughts and any works I created online. I have since decided to put many other things on this blog. In part, I've thought, "Well, who's interested in what I write on the Bible? Maybe I should put personal things on this blog." And so I did. But then I thought that I should do some writing about homeschooling and I still was doing Bible Study writing. In short, I haven't been able to decide what to do.

I created another blog, about homeschooling. But I haven't put anything up yet because I thought maybe multiple blogs would be too much. Then, I thought putting everything on this one blog would be confusing. I mean, is this about Bible Study, homeschooling, or my own family life? I know, I know, this is crazy.

Well, I have some Bible Study thoughts that I want to put up... just to see what anyone thinks. So, here I go. I am dedicating this blog strictly to Bible Study... and will write on separate blogs for homeschooling and personal life. If it's too much to ask of my friends to try to keep up with... I'm sorry. But, really, I write primarily for myself anyway... to keep up the skill.

And... there's a part of me that really wants to communicate with the masses, you know.

So, here goes... I have decided... this blog is dedicated!

Men Like Darcy and Leopold

I have read the book, Pride and Prejudice, and watched the movies and TV miniseries an untold number of times. For some reason, the story never gets old for me. Jane Austen was a genius with words and Pride and Prejudice was her masterpiece. No other book of hers has been more filmed, nor spawned more "sequels." But though Elizabeth is the heroine of the book, my fascination and the fascination of numerous authors centers on another character: Darcy.

Elizabeth intrigues us with her wit and her thoughts as she wades through nineteenth century life. She is like a friend; the kind of friend we would like to have or the kind of woman we would like to be. But Darcy remains largely a mystery to us. Yet, what we do know of him makes us want to know him more.

What are these mysterious qualities? Darcy is dignified, protective, honorable and willing to improve. He possesses timeless qualities which are admirable even though they are not fashionable in our day. These traits come together in such a way in Darcy, that he draws even us, the readers of any time, to him.

What do I mean? Darcy's dignity allows us to respect him, even when we disagree with him. Darcy doesn't lose his temper or act like a fool. In his mind, Darcy doesn't lose his temper or act like a fool. In his mind, Darcy is always representing something greater than himself: his family. And he is careful to act in such a way that he doesn't dishonor his family in the public arena. Even when Darcy is wrong, he is doing what he believes to be right.

Jane Austen writes love into Darcy's otherwise cold dignity. We read about the love and care he provides for his sister. He treasures her, worries about her and generously gives to her. He has taken his dual role as brother and guardian seriously and we see that a gentler Darcy exists in private; in a place we rarely get to see in the book.

Darcy's desire to do the right thing extends even to admitting he is wrong and taking action to remedy the situation. In Pride and Prejudice, we meet a Darcy that is proud and mistaken in his appraisal of those around him. But we watch him sacrifice a false sense of being right to achieve the goal of making things right. Ultimately, Darcy is willing to change in order to become a better man.

Leopold, from the movie, Kate and Leopold, shares some of Darcy's traits. Though Leopold's situation in life differs somewhat from Darcy's they share some of the qualities I've listed above. What we learn from Leopold is how such a man would interact with a 21^st century woman.

Kate and Leopold shows us the story of how a 19^th century Leopold leaps into the 21^st century. Along with making humorous discoveries about modern American life, Leopold falls in love with a modern American woman. As the story unfolds, we learn that Leopold's sense of dignity and honor extends to Kate. Leopold treats Kate with a great deal of respect, and he wonders when she does not treat herself with the same level of respect. He even tries to protect Kate from her unscrupulous boss, who tries to use his power to seduce Kate.

And what about Darcy? How does Darcy respond to women? The answer is that he treats them with no loess respect than he does men. Both men and women are equally open to condemnation or respect from Darcy. He even defers to his aunt and allows her dignity rather than exposing her foolishness; a grace which he also extends to Elizabeth's own mother, a decidedly foolish woman.

Darcy and Leopold are figments of someone's imagination. Yet, how many women long for a man she can respect? Many of us do. And we long for men who will treat us with respect, not because they have simply granted us some measure of equality or superiority, but because they treasure us.

Darcy and Leopold are men who honor the women they love because honor is something they value and because they believe the women they value deserve honor, alongside dignity, virtue and protection.

Oh, that parents would teach their sons about dignity, virtue honor and responsibility and that sons would embrace and adopt these traits as their own.

Abba’s Daughter

I just finished reading a book called The Chosen by Chaim Potok. The oddest thing happened to me over and over again while I read this book. Each time the Jewish boy Reuven, the main character in the book, spoke to his father, I choked up and fought back tears. Why did this happen to me? It happened because each time Reuven had a conversation with his dad, he called him "Abba." No, I'm wrong. He called his father "abba." There was no capital letter. For Reuven, "abba" wasn't a special title; it was a common word for a special relationship.

For years, I have struggled to understand what it meant that Jesus called God "Abba" in the following verse: "Abba, Father, all things are possible for You. Take this cup away from Me; nevertheless, not what I will, but what You will."

My own dad was in and out of my life. A distance exists between him and myself that time cannot close, because the time to build that relationship has passed. Even if we were to become very close in the future, the relationship will still be an adult one. I have never had to depend on him for my well-being and, while we have a very good relationship, it will never be what it might have been.

I learned years ago that "Abba" means something like "Daddy." But I've never felt what it feels like to call someone Daddy. My own father was always "Dad" to me. As far back as I can remember, I maintained a slight distance between him and myself and chose to refer to him by the more formal name, "Dad," out of a lack of trust. Since I have become a mother, I look to my own children to observe what it might be like. My firstborn son sometimes gives me a glimpse into that feeling. When he wants to discuss something meaningful with me, my oldest will address me as "Mommy." His voice even gets softer and he makes it evident that he's looking to me as an authority. It is a sweet moment when he calls me "Mommy." I treasure these moments. But I don't really know what it feels like myself.

So, I was reading The Chosen, which is a book about two Jewish boys and their different families. The first time Reuven called his father "abba," I was shocked. I didn't know that the word was still in common use (the book was set during World War II and the creation of the state of Israel). He said it during a common conversation and it came out of his mouth casually. As the book went on, Reuven used the word over and over again: in conversation after conversation. Reuven called his father "abba" casually and easily. And each time, he said it, I understood more clearly what it meant for him, and what it meant for Jesus, and what it means for me.

For Reuven, calling his father "abba" was natural and right. It wasn't a word to be used only at a special time or at a time of deep distress, as Jesus was in the garden of Gethsemane. No, "abba" was for anytime, any place and any conversation: during peace and during stress. This must have been the case for Jesus, as well. How many times on how many mountains on how many solitary occasions did Jesus talk to his father in conversations calling him, "abba"? We don't know how Jesus addressed his father when he went off by himself all those times. Those prayers, those conversations, were not recorded. And yet, he must have said it then and many times. Reuven sat down at the table to discuss spiritual matters with his father on a regular basis, and called him "abba" at that very table. Can't we safely assume that Jesus, as he sat down to discuss spiritual matters with His Father, also called Him "Abba?"

But why did I cry? What difference does it make to me what name Jesus called God? It matters to me because I am an adopted child of God. I care because Paul tells me in the book of Romans, chapter 8, verse 15 that I "received the spirit of adoption by whom we cry out , 'Abba, Father.'" I have been given the right to call God, "Abba." I am allowed to call him, "Daddy." He wants me to; and I haven't been able to understand what that means. I haven't known that kind of relationship before. I cried because the Jewish boy Reuven, Chaim Potok's creation, was teaching me what it means to be the daughter of a Father: my own "Abba's" daughter.

How Deceitful is the Human Heart

How do we teach our kids to overcome when we feel so defeated ourselves? My son has talents that he has developed through hard work, but his current situation makes him feel like a failure. I know the truth. I understand that he is interpreting the situation wrong. He cannot see the truth through what he feels. And this hurts me in a particular way because I see parallels between him and myself.

I also have been caught in a situation which makes me feel like a failure. Relief has not come and may not for a while. Consequently, like my son, I am convinced that I am less than what I ought to be. It saddens me to see that he has inherited this trait from me. Like myself, he is driven to succeed; and equally like myself, he is overly hard on himself. I suppose they go hand in hand.

And yet, I work hard to convince him that he is wrong. I do it because he is wrong, and because his negative thoughts prevent him from being better. He believes he cannot do well, and so he drags his feet. He doesn't try because he doesn't see the point. He does what he has to when he has to, but he doesn't take joy in it. If he had confidence in his abilities, he would perform like a champ because he is fully capable of doing so. But now, he just goes through the motions because his heart tells him otherwise.

I could be describing myself. I have been around long enough to know where my talents and abilities lie, and yet I feel heartsick. I don't start what I know I should be doing because I feel like I'll fail before I even begin.

Like my son, what great things could I be doing if I could only see more clearly? No, not simply see, but believe more clearly. We tell him what we see, but he doesn't believe us, and continues in his disappointment. I tell myself what I know, but I don't believe it, and I continue in my disappointment.

And yet, I know, for both of us this is only temporary. It just hurts a little more to see my reflection in him. I hurt for him and for myself. And I realize just how much we both need to believe more Truth.

"The heart is deceitful above all things…"

And I wonder… how long will we believe our own illusions? …And what could we both be accomplishing if we would both cast our feelings aside?

One Man's Trash is Another Man's Treasure

Giving truth the old adage "one man's trash is another man's treasure," Steve turned trash into treasure today. Last summer, our clothes dryer caught on fire. It was a fairly exciting night; the kids got to sit in a fire truck and a giant, powerful fan sucked the smoke out of our house. But the fire left us with a big question. What were we going to do with a broken (burned) clothes dryer.

Well, if you're Steve, you take it apart for parts. The removable top of the dryer became a target for bb and pellet gun shooting kids. The various inner workings were sorted into useable pieces and trash. And the drum became a container for burning important papers and any other thing we felt should be burned instead of thrown away.

As a fire pit, it had two major faults. First, it put out tremendous heat. My poor little citrus tree unluckily stationed about 7 feet away from it got burned one evening. Second, it was unsightly. Not at first, of course. When we first took out the drum, it was nice, pretty and shiny. But over time, it became marred, dull and ugly.

Then, Steve had an opportunity to pick up another man's trash... his dad's. Steve woke up at 5:00AM this morning, woke Richard up early (ruining another sleep-late Easter vacation day), and headed to his dad's house to take apart the no-longer wanted back-yard garden.

At about 9:30AM, I started out for a beautiful morning jog/walk (mostly walk), and before I got very far, there was Steve's truck heading towards me on our street. By the time I got back home, Richard was hauling wheel-barrows of bricks to Steve, who had decided to fix our fire pit. One by one, his dad's unwanted bricks were placed around our reassigned clothes-dryer drum, and before long he was done.

Ta Da!!! Our New Treasure!



Now, it's time to burn something.

Something New

I haven't been terribly inspired to write lately, but yet I want to keep writing. In fact, I would really like to write on a regular basis. When I write, I get a feeling of accomplishment, like I'm doing something. Now, to anyone who has been in my household, that would be a really funny statement. Why? Because with five boys, three of them being homeschooled, one too young, and one in public high school... I am always doing something. Yet, for some reason, writing seems to capture something for me that my other work does not. My other work comes and goes. Workbooks get filled out and put in boxes (as a record that my kids have actually done something for the year). Books get read and put back on the shelf or sent to the library. Experiments and projects are done and slowly disappear. But my writing, that stays. Months, or years, later, I can look back and see what I was thinking, what I was learning, what I was doing.

Being so busy makes this record more meaningful to me. I am not rewarded in money. I am rewarded in happiness and knowledge. My accomplishments are not material. I can't easily show anyone what I've spent my days and nights doing. Days come and go so quickly that sometimes I can't even remember what I've done, only that I've been busy. In a sense, I guess, my writing is a record of the timeline of my life. For this reason, I think, it has value to me. And maybe it can have value for someone else, as well.

I think I'm going to start writing about my daily adventures. I sometimes get the feeling that no one would be interested in my daily life. And I still feel that is true. But remembering that the writing is mostly for me anyway, I think I will begin to try making this blog more of a JOURnal... a daily writing, covering the events and thoughts of the day.

Maybe.

Today, we were supposed to go the the zoo. Our membership is set to expire soon, with no money to renew it. So, we rearranged our school schedule to have two days off this week. Amazingly, we accomplished (almost) five days worth of work in three days. When the kids are truly motivated, we can do such a thing.

I normally schedule Fridays as light days anyway, so that we can go do things we want to do or just have a light day if we're tired. This week, the kids wanted Wednesday off, as well, so they could go skating... which we did. They really had fun. In the past, they haven't wanted to skate as much, but I find quite a few things are changing this year. They are beginning to take much more interest in physical activity. Not that they haven't been running all through the house or in the front yard for most of their young lives, but this year they are taking a greater interest in a greater variety of sports activities.

My oldest two played basketball this summer and my oldest is playing Upward Basketball right now. He is loving it (and I think my second son is regretting that he chose not to sign up himself). They are playing baseball this spring and have expressed interest in playing football this fall. All of this is good for me. I love watching them play sports. It's the most fun we have as a family, and playing on teams is a great learning experience for them. Besides, I love throwing balls with them and encouraging them to push themselves to perform better, then watching them get better and experience a sense of accomplishment in the improvement they make.

Truly, I feel sorry for the kids who play sports and have to go to school. When my boys have late games, I let them sleep in and we start school when they have enough rest. I can only imagine bunches of little boys struggling to stay awake in elementary school the morning after their late night game. This week, we had games every day except Wednesday and tonight. Next week, we'll have games every single night. By the end of the week, we're tired. I'm tired now. But I wouldn't trade it. There are times of the year when we're bored with plenty of free time and there are times of the year like this. Both have their benefits.

And I must be getting better at homeschooling, because we're not behind. Of course, now that I've said that...

Last year, we worked into the summer, but I'm trying really hard not to do that again this year. Of course, last year, we had just gotten Richard and were going through a big adjustment, with plenty of fireworks. This year is (so far) much more stable. And with Richard back in school, I have more free time to focus on the younger students. Next year will be another transition year as my youngest will be old enough to start pre-school. I expect he'll enjoy it, but everything with a little one is one on one. And sometimes, older brothers get jealous; especially when they see how little work the new student has.

Well, I think that just about wraps up what I have to say tonight. Of course, there is so much more I could say, but this is a blog not a book. And there will be many, many more days...

Better Things to Come

Very early in my college career, I decided to let loose. I had no real reason not to just do whatever I wanted, and so I did just that. One Mardi Gras, perhaps my first as a college student, we went to the French Quarter. In my mind, I made a game of kissing whomever I wanted. I know that I kissed a number of people, but I only remember kissing one person. In fact, I'll probably never forget him or that kiss.

I didn't ask him for his name nor did he ask me for mine. In fact, we may not have said much more than "hello." All I remember about him was that he was good-looking with dark hair and he wore a black leather jacket in the cold night air. But when he kissed me something happened to me that I had never felt before nor have ever felt since. A hot flash went through my body, as though I had been hit by lightning and I think I went weak. I definitely walked away from him shaking and shocked that something as blind as a kiss from a stranger could have that effect on my body. But I definitely walked away, still not asking him his name, not ever intending to see him again.

Why, you might ask, did I walk away? That answer is summed up in one very simple and incredibly complicated word: fear. Oh, how I could have lost myself to him. In an instant, I knew that I could easily become a slave to a man who could do that to me with one kiss. My gut feeling told me to run away and not look back. I never, ever, wanted to give anyone that much power over me.

But the bigger question for the moment is why am I writing this now, in a forum where everyone can see, when I haven't thought about this for a long time? What made me think of the kiss isn't nearly as important as what the kiss made me think of. It is little short of amazing the kind of power that desire can wield over us. I've given up several forms of pleasure in my choice to live a life pleasing to God. I believe with all my heart that I've made the right choice. I don't want to go back to chasing those temporary pleasures that only leave me with cravings for more, once the short time of satisfaction vaporizes. I choose to live with the satisfaction God gives me and deal with the temporary cravings, than live with craving and enjoy temporary satisfaction.

But it's encouraging to remember that there IS something more to look forward to. My Bible tells me that the things on earth are but a shadow of the things to come. If another human being, a created thing, can have that kind of effect on me, what effect will I experience in the very presence of my God? God shielded Moses when He passed in front of him because one sight of God would have killed Moses. If a human man could make me weak, what will not a glimpse, not just the sight, but the full Presence and nearness of my LORD do to me? What will I feel when "I shall know just as I am also known." When I no longer "see in a mirror, dimly," but see "face to face."

There are so many things about my past that I wish I could change. Were I asked, I would counsel someone NOT to do the things I did. My experiences have brought me more long-term grief than they brought me short-term pleasure. But I am who I am today because I was there then. Yet, I need to share these thoughts, to show just how much God has shown me a better way. To use the things I intended for bad, for the Glory of God. Maybe no one will read this, which is better for me. But if you are reading this, may you receive the message I intend to send and seek the Lord while He may be found.

The Education Called Parenthood

On the whole, my children give me unspeakable joy. The great desire of my heart is to lavish gifts on them. I would love nothing more than to be able to give them everything they want. The delight on their faces thrills me in a way nothing else does. I want to give them every freedom and to see them enjoy all the world has to offer. Every fiber of my being longs to withold nothing from them.

But the irony of human nature prevents me from doing this. If I gave them whatever they wanted, they would become monsters. Human nature is, by nature, corrupt. Left to complete freedom, we would leap to selfishness and ferociously guard it. We would take whatever we wanted and give only when it pleased us. This is how we are born and this is how we would remain without compelling reasons to be otherwise.

I don't enjoy disciplining my children. They suffer and I suffer. I would prefer never to have to do it. But love and peace demand that I do it. If I truly want the best for my children, I must take an active role in curbing that selfish nature. I must teach them the way to live at peace with themselves and others, both through gentle instruction and by enforcing consequences. This is the unpleasant truth of life: that children must be disciplined.

Before I became a parent, I did not know the feeling of being forced to play a role out of love that I would never choose to play otherwise. I had previously done hard things, but none that felt this way. Parenthood has been an amazing education for me; an education I could not have envisioned. I learn so many truths about life, the world, human nature, and amazingly, God. I can look at my kids and see much of what God sees when He looks at us. And sometimes, I understand why He does what He does because I have to do the same with them. And this is a truth I discover: God does what He does with us because He is Our Father. We are parents because we have grown in maturity and wisdom and are able to lead and protect our children. He is Our Father because He possesses Maturity and Wisdom and is able to lead, guide, and protect us... and we are to follow His example.

It sometimes strikes me, the similarity between a parent and God. The feeling I had of wanting to give my children everything good is shared with God. He also wants to give us all good things. But He knows the truth of our human nature. He knows that we, like our own children, would become monsters if left without discipline. For this reason, He also must enforce consequences. The truth that we need guidance is not new to me. Even as a child, I recognized pettiness, selfishness, and immaturity in the adults around me. I saw even then, that adults did many things wrong. Being a parent did not teach me that adults made mistakes. What being a parent has taught me is how God feels about that discipline. Having children has taught me just how much He loves us. Knowing my own limitations, I have awe at the thought that He wants to lavish on me gifts far greater than my own limited mind can imagine. This is the great truth that my journey through parenthood has recently revealed to me.

Another great truth came alongside that revelation: God has made a way to overcome the limitation of human nature. While I will never be able to give my children everything, God one day will. Hebrews tells us that "For the joy set before Him, [Jesus] endured the cross." What was that joy? Us. We are that joy. He did not have to be crucified. No one could have laid a finger on Him if He so chose. But, instead, He chose the cross, He chose the future joy, He chose us. Right now, we are limited by human nature. But when we die, when we are resurrected and join Him in the place we know as Heaven, we will no longer be selfish creatures prone to corruption. Jesus overcame our corruption. What an amazing thought: that God created a way to lavish all the gifts He wants on us without fear of what we will become. And what an amazing thought that He will one day shower us with gifts, with blessings.

I sometimes have a hard time understanding heaven. I have difficulty understanding why He would want to do this for us... why He has gone through all this trouble to make a way for us to be in a place like Heaven with Him. I sometimes feel like there must be a "catch," as though somehow Heaven will not be all that we can imagine, that somehow it cannot be as great as it sounds. But being a parent shows me another story. By loving my little ones this much, with the limitations of a wicked human heart, I can glimpse for an instant the amazing love He has for us. If God loves me the way I love my children, and in truth He loves me more than I myself am capable of loving, then Heaven makes perfect sense. In fact, Heaven is brilliant, and God has put a glimpse of it into the heart of a parent.

What an honor I have, to be both a parent and a child of the Father.

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow. Praise Him, all creatures here below. Praise Him, all you His heavenly host. Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. Amen.

The Written Word

As I was thinking about the last blog I posted, "The Strong Man", I realized that something is lost in just posting the result of my efforts. The real treasure lies in the discovery.

I'm doing a Bible Study right now by Beth Moore, called "Esther." Beth Moore is an excellent Bible teacher. I really enjoy doing her studies, because of their excellent quality. She clearly puts her heart and mind into these and her work shows. But even these well-researched and well-written studies pale compared to the discoveries I make when following my own path. It's exciting, like I'm discovering something new, never before seen. Even when I read a commentary, written evidence that someone has discovered this before me, it doesn't lessen the wonder. It simply validates my discovery.

...And when I discover something, I can't stand not to share it. Just ask anyone who knows me well.

So, I discovered the thrill of Spirit-led personal Bible Study a good while ago and I long to share that. Many of my acquaintances already know this about me. But my most recent thrill is this combining of gospel accounts of events that happened in Jesus life and ministry. Putting them together highlights details I would otherwise miss. Not only that, but examining each account sentence-by-sentence, seeing what information is repeated and what information is unique to each account, and deciding in what order to copy the information and whether or not to repeat certain information, forces me to interact with the written word in such a way that I'm forced to really consider the information that the gospel writers give. Working with Scripture this way is like learning about the properties of clay by mushing it, shaping it, ripping it apart, and sticking it back together. When I'm done, I have a greater understanding of how it works because I've "handled" it. I touch it and it leaves its imprint on me.

Now, I know that in part, I'm particularly suited for this. I love the written word. I worked on my next segment at the dentist office while waiting out my son's appointment. I carefully hand-copied three different versions of the same passage, slowly taking care to make my handwriting clear and even, enjoying the feeling of writing in cursive... a feeling and look that is completely lost in typing. Then, I carefully read over the passages I had lovingly written and began to identify the similarities and make notes on the differences and the light that those differences shed. Yes, I know I am suited to this because I also know that to many people, what I have described above would be considered punish work.

My hope is that I will inspire those who are wired much like I am to interact more deeply with Scripture. But for those who are not wired this way, I hope to share what I have learned by posting what I've studied. This is where I feel I maybe dropped the ball last time. I posted the combined accounts, but not the amazing insight I gained while combining them. So, with my next blog, I hope to include both the combined account and the insights and pray that someone will benefit from what I'm excited to share.

Jen

The Strong Man

The third blog I ever wrote was called "Can We Have Peace in the Midst of a Storm?" It was the work of some research I had been doing for a presentation I was giving as a participant in the women's ministry of Northshore Church. For this presentation, I studied the story of Jesus calming the storm. Each of the three Gospels that record the story provide unique insight into the event and I wanted to find a way to combine all the details to get a clearer and more complete understanding of what happened. So I examined each account and merged the three retellings as best as I could, keeping as much of the original language as would not be overly repetitive and yet would continue to make sense. The result of that work can be read here.

What I found when I joined the stories absolutely fascinated me. I wanted to go through the Gospels and do the same thing with every story I found retold in two or more places. However, I didn't actually do this again until recently, when a dream inspired me to once again research a particular event. I relived the same fascination doing this work that I had when I researched the calming of the storm. Because of this, I hope to do this at least once a week and, maybe, post the result.

I hope you find this as interesting as I do.

Jen

BINDING THE STRONG MAN
Matthew 12; Mark 3; Luke 11

Then He (Jesus) went home, and the crowd gathered again so that they were not even able to eat. When His family heard this, they set out to restrain Him, because they said, “He’s out of His mind.”

Then a demon-possessed man who was blind and unable to speak was brought to Him. Now He was driving out a demon that was mute. When the demon came out, the man who had been mute, spoke, and the crowds were amazed. He healed him, so that the man could both speak and see. And all the crowds were astounded and said, “Perhaps this is the Son of David!”

The scribes who had come down from Jerusalem said, “He has Beelzebul in Him!” and, “He drives out demons by the ruler of the demons!” When the Pharisees heard this, they said, “The man drives out demons only by Beelzebul, the ruler of the demons.” And others, as a test, were demanding of Him a sign from heaven.

So He summoned them and spoke to them in parables. Knowing their thoughts, He told them: “Every kingdom divided against itself is headed for destruction, and no city or house divided against itself will stand, and a house divided against itself falls. If Satan drives out Satan, he is divided against himself. How then will his kingdom stand? How can Satan drive out Satan? If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. If a house is divided against itself, that house cannot stand. And if Satan rebels against himself and is divided, he cannot stand but is finished! For you say I drive out demons by Beelzebul. And if I drive out demons by Beelzebul, who is it your sons drive them out by? For this reason they will be your judges. If I drive out demons by the Spirit of God, by the finger of God, then the kingdom of God has come to you.”

“How can someone enter a strong man’s house and steal his possessions unless he first ties up the strong man? When a strong man, fully armed, guards his estate, his possessions are secure. But when one stronger than he attacks and overpowers him, he takes from him all his weapons he trusted in, and divides up his plunder. No one can enter a strong man’s house and rob his possessions unless he first ties up the strong man. Then he can and will rob his house.”

“Anyone who is not with Me is against Me, and anyone who does not gather with Me scatters. Because of this, I tell you, people will be forgiven every sin and blasphemy, but the blasphemy against the Spirit will not be forgiven. I assure you: People will be forgiven for all sins and whatever blasphemies they may blaspheme. Whoever speaks a word against the Son of Man, it will be forgiven him. But whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin. Whoever speaks against the Holy Spirit, it will not be forgiven him, either in this age or in the one to come.” because they were saying, “He has an unclean spirit.”

Posts

I find it interesting that I can never tell which blogs I post will generate comments and which will not. Oddly enough, the blogs I post that really feel like they cost me something generate no comments.

I'm not sure what this means.

Either A: no one reads my blogs, B: no one finds the above-referenced blogs (the ones that cost me emotionally) interesting, or C: no one wants "to go there."

Anyway, as a blogger (a very intermittent blogger), I'm not really sure what to with this? Do I stop writing those particular kinds of entries? Or does someone out there, who doesn't want to be known, get something out of those entries (even if it's just to see how odd I am)? Or do I need anyone to read these at all?

Of course, I do write with the hope that someone will read. After all, I have a diary for what I don't want read and I certainly don't need to blog at all.

I guess I long for connection. After all, being a stay-at-home/homeschooling/business owning mom keeps me busy enough to have a non-existent (well, almost) social life.

(Sigh)

...Till my next installment of the continuing battle with my need for approval...