Words fill our lives everyday, sometimes washing over like a tsunami in their shear volume and relentlessness. Yet, on rare occasions, a few pithy word become life altering and direction changing.
Several years ago I was part of a study group at church for those new to faith, or newly returned. For me, it was newly returned, after years of being a faithless, murmuring follower (see Exodus and Numbers). The most salient part of that study was not the study itself, as good as it was, but a word spoken by one of the members. As we went around the opening introductions, Erin described herself as "...a world champion God-wrestler".
In that moment, in that phrase, I knew/heard that it was alright to have doubts and questions. I heard that it was alright for my faith to push back and to challenge and grapple with the Truth. I heard God-wrestler, not like Moses protesting his lack of skill (Exodus 4), or Gideon asking for repeated fleeces (Judges 6), but grappling and wrestling like Jacob with the angel ...or was it God himself (Genesis 32)...striving for a blessing.
It has been six years since I heard that phrase. I've not seen Erin since then, to tell her how significant and life changing that phrase has been. I have heard since then, or perhaps just focused more as a result of the phrase, of those who have challenged God -- Abraham, Moses, David, Elijah, Job...Thomas. These years have been my own Jacob-time, freely acknowledged. Its been interesting too, as I've going along, to find out how many others have questions, although generally they are not as many as mine!
So I keep wrestling. I don't think I've had my hip touched yet or gone lame (but interestingly I think I have a touch of arthritis in my right hip!), but I continue to wrestle. Grace. Legalism. Faith. Love. Works, Church. Forgiveness. Salvation. In that phrase I gained a freedom to explore that I had not had before. Freedom to talk to God openly and directly about His word, His Church, and about....his adopted son, me. Ultimately, I want to close the 18" gap between my head and my heart. I want to love and experience God with all my heart and mind and soul.
Wrestling involves contact, intimacy, and going through all of this may be a sign that the gap is closing.
I hope so.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Monday, January 13, 2014
Aural Bethel
Sometimes things aren't what you remember, and have the hand of God in them when you least suspect.
The winter of 2010, in particular the first couple of months of it, were pretty terrible, truth be told. Suffering as I do from seasonal affective disorder, there had been frequent snowfalls during December and into January that were driving me down. February was the cruelest month, with snowmageddon trapping me in the apartment for a week. Concurrently with it, there was the loss of the first post-divorce relationship, and worst of all, my daughter deciding she didn't want to see me anymore. Not a particularly great time for sure.
During the snowed in week, there was a particular Christian song that was popular on the radio, and seemed to be played ever hour or two. It became the soundtrack for that whole terrible mess of emotion and depression I was undergoing during that snowed in week. It became so associated with that time that I have never been able to listen to it again, because it reminded me of the pain I had been experiencing and the near-nervous breakdown I had then.
In talking to a friend the other day, I had a flash of divine revelation, an epiphany like almost no other. The song, which for three years had been a testimony of the pain and hurt I had been suffering, changed. God (and it had to be Him) showed me that it wasn't supposed to be a memory to the pain, it was supposed to be a testimony to the presence of His Love and His Spirit in that time. I had misread it all this time. It was really a Bethel monument (in Genesis 28:18, Jacob had a dream (which includes the angels ascending and descending, which is is where a Jacob's ladder gets its name) and established a monument, a pillar to the presence of God in his dreams and in his life).
The song was intended to represent that for me. I remember so clearly that day when the the sun finally came out and blinded the snow-bound people. I remember praying to God for help in the pain and the valley. And clearly, just as clearly, I remember His presence. I remember Him filling my mind and heart with the knowledge that He would be there for me and with me. I remember Him telling me that I was still going to go through times of pain. My faith journey has never been one full of emotional closeness to God, and yet that cold, sunny, snow covered afternoon kneeling in the sun beside my window, I felt His presence as almost never before. The times of suffering that I went through were indeed painful, and at times felt like they would never end. Yet, I was still able to hold on to His promise, and eventually moved through that valley of the shadow.
I had, for three years, failed to remember the faithfulness of the Lord in carrying me, and had in all-too-human form remembered only the pain and suffering the loss of relationships had caused me. I had forgotten that it was that pain that drove me out of my cubicle isolation at work to actually eat lunch with co-workers. I had forgotten that it was the pain that drove me out of the apartment and into volunteer efforts, efforts that produced some days of great joy volunteering with the Washington Freedom, or at wine festivals. That it was that pain that finally convinced me to leave the self-imposed isolation of life and to engage with the people around me. It was His love, His presence, His blessing that got me through it. And I had forgotten it.
And now I remember what I knew and had forgotten, yet another example of grace given by God.
The winter of 2010, in particular the first couple of months of it, were pretty terrible, truth be told. Suffering as I do from seasonal affective disorder, there had been frequent snowfalls during December and into January that were driving me down. February was the cruelest month, with snowmageddon trapping me in the apartment for a week. Concurrently with it, there was the loss of the first post-divorce relationship, and worst of all, my daughter deciding she didn't want to see me anymore. Not a particularly great time for sure.
During the snowed in week, there was a particular Christian song that was popular on the radio, and seemed to be played ever hour or two. It became the soundtrack for that whole terrible mess of emotion and depression I was undergoing during that snowed in week. It became so associated with that time that I have never been able to listen to it again, because it reminded me of the pain I had been experiencing and the near-nervous breakdown I had then.
In talking to a friend the other day, I had a flash of divine revelation, an epiphany like almost no other. The song, which for three years had been a testimony of the pain and hurt I had been suffering, changed. God (and it had to be Him) showed me that it wasn't supposed to be a memory to the pain, it was supposed to be a testimony to the presence of His Love and His Spirit in that time. I had misread it all this time. It was really a Bethel monument (in Genesis 28:18, Jacob had a dream (which includes the angels ascending and descending, which is is where a Jacob's ladder gets its name) and established a monument, a pillar to the presence of God in his dreams and in his life).
The song was intended to represent that for me. I remember so clearly that day when the the sun finally came out and blinded the snow-bound people. I remember praying to God for help in the pain and the valley. And clearly, just as clearly, I remember His presence. I remember Him filling my mind and heart with the knowledge that He would be there for me and with me. I remember Him telling me that I was still going to go through times of pain. My faith journey has never been one full of emotional closeness to God, and yet that cold, sunny, snow covered afternoon kneeling in the sun beside my window, I felt His presence as almost never before. The times of suffering that I went through were indeed painful, and at times felt like they would never end. Yet, I was still able to hold on to His promise, and eventually moved through that valley of the shadow.
I had, for three years, failed to remember the faithfulness of the Lord in carrying me, and had in all-too-human form remembered only the pain and suffering the loss of relationships had caused me. I had forgotten that it was that pain that drove me out of my cubicle isolation at work to actually eat lunch with co-workers. I had forgotten that it was the pain that drove me out of the apartment and into volunteer efforts, efforts that produced some days of great joy volunteering with the Washington Freedom, or at wine festivals. That it was that pain that finally convinced me to leave the self-imposed isolation of life and to engage with the people around me. It was His love, His presence, His blessing that got me through it. And I had forgotten it.
And now I remember what I knew and had forgotten, yet another example of grace given by God.
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Hearing Problem
It is one of those things that you can be unaware of until someone or something points it out to you. For me, it appears I have a selective hearing problem. It is, I suspect as I look back in my past, a problem that I have had for decades. While I've been aware of it for the past three or four years, it is only recently that I've been able to identify it. The problem is not my physical hearing, but my spiritual hearing that is impaired. The spiritual ear that is turned to God and His word is the one that isn't working quite right, isn't able to truly hear without distortion. I was able to finally label, identify, and realize it thanks to a recent blog by Tullian Tchividjian that I read. The hearing problem is some inherent distortion that whenever I hear the Word, even when the Word is grace or couched in love and grace, all I hear is law. What should be words interpreted in love and joy are instead distorted by rules and requirements that must be continuously and perfectly met. I'm not sure why law is such a strong, overriding filter in me.
This legal filter gets to be a problem with so many aspects of faith. It distorts my hearing of topics (such as reading the bible, praying, providing service, giving, etc.) to such a degree that when they are mentioned, I end up hearing them as rigid requirements. Thou shalt and thou must. With any requirement, there is then a standard against which I will be judged.....and like King Belshazzar ("..shekel, you have been weighed on the scales and found wanting.." Dan 5:27) , I will be found wanting. Worse than just being found wanting is the accompanying shame and condemnation, old family tapes that still play in my head of "I'm so disappointed in you".
This past year I have tried to change my hearing. From a girlfriend who kept telling me "God is love", to readings I was doing in 1 John and 1 Corinthians, even from the popular song by King and Country, I am trying to re-tune my hearing. "For the greatest of these is love", "God is love", "God so loved the world"
I'm not sure I know how, but I know it can be done. For years I was careful with money. Frugal would be a generous term, miserly would be possibly accurate. Somehow that has changed, and I suspect it has happened because of the example of a couple of people in my life. It has now become easier and more natural to give. Whether it is in the tithe at church, or the office candy jar,or picking up the tab from my men's breakfast group, it has become so much easier to give.
So I know change is possible. The change I need now is to embrace the Great Commandment to love God with all my heart and mind and soul (Matt22:37-38)
I just wish I could hear the sweet notes of "grace" better.
This legal filter gets to be a problem with so many aspects of faith. It distorts my hearing of topics (such as reading the bible, praying, providing service, giving, etc.) to such a degree that when they are mentioned, I end up hearing them as rigid requirements. Thou shalt and thou must. With any requirement, there is then a standard against which I will be judged.....and like King Belshazzar ("..shekel, you have been weighed on the scales and found wanting.." Dan 5:27) , I will be found wanting. Worse than just being found wanting is the accompanying shame and condemnation, old family tapes that still play in my head of "I'm so disappointed in you".
This past year I have tried to change my hearing. From a girlfriend who kept telling me "God is love", to readings I was doing in 1 John and 1 Corinthians, even from the popular song by King and Country, I am trying to re-tune my hearing. "For the greatest of these is love", "God is love", "God so loved the world"
I'm not sure I know how, but I know it can be done. For years I was careful with money. Frugal would be a generous term, miserly would be possibly accurate. Somehow that has changed, and I suspect it has happened because of the example of a couple of people in my life. It has now become easier and more natural to give. Whether it is in the tithe at church, or the office candy jar,or picking up the tab from my men's breakfast group, it has become so much easier to give.
So I know change is possible. The change I need now is to embrace the Great Commandment to love God with all my heart and mind and soul (Matt22:37-38)
I just wish I could hear the sweet notes of "grace" better.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Why Broken Cistern?
I have engaged in faith struggles for a number of years now. The struggles began in earnest after my divorce, although looking back now I am aware that the seeds of turmoil and grappling were in place long before that. The struggles cover the whole gamut of faith, from who is God and what is His nature, to how does He relate to me, how then should I live (borrowing the phrase from Francis Schaeffer), etc. I suspect these issues have been percolating in me for decades, from perhaps even my first introduction to the church. Faith in God remains; from my earliest days I've known of His existence even as I have struggled with how to connect with Him. Perhaps all this struggle is just what my faith journey is supposed to look like, the trail it is supposed to take climbing up hill over boulders and not walking smoothly along a paved path. Maybe everyone else has this struggle and just accept it in a way that I don't. I don't know. But I do know that the effort has ramped up in the past three or four years.
There is, for me, something clarifying and cathartic about putting my thoughts and observations, questions and challenges, down in writing. It helps to distill and crystallize my thoughts, which otherwise would either swirl in chaos , or else evaporate and dissipate into the mist and fog of life. So if I am going to write, why not let it be on the web where whosoever reads can benefit from it? (credit to a broken romance for showing me possibilities of blogging :)
The title I adapted from Jeremiah 2. The setting for Jeremiah is the Lord saying His people have turned away from Him and created idols, broken cisterns that can not hold water. While I don't think that idolatry is my issue (although, if an idol is anything that keeps us from giving all to God, perhaps there IS an element of that in me), the image of a broken cistern unable to hold the Living water of God has caught my eye and my imagination. I'm a broken cistern, unable to hold the Spirit of God, waiting/trying to be be repaired and restored. Broken--- troubled spirit, troubled follower -- looking for the Great Potter to restore me to wholeness.
Onward then.
There is, for me, something clarifying and cathartic about putting my thoughts and observations, questions and challenges, down in writing. It helps to distill and crystallize my thoughts, which otherwise would either swirl in chaos , or else evaporate and dissipate into the mist and fog of life. So if I am going to write, why not let it be on the web where whosoever reads can benefit from it? (credit to a broken romance for showing me possibilities of blogging :)
The title I adapted from Jeremiah 2. The setting for Jeremiah is the Lord saying His people have turned away from Him and created idols, broken cisterns that can not hold water. While I don't think that idolatry is my issue (although, if an idol is anything that keeps us from giving all to God, perhaps there IS an element of that in me), the image of a broken cistern unable to hold the Living water of God has caught my eye and my imagination. I'm a broken cistern, unable to hold the Spirit of God, waiting/trying to be be repaired and restored. Broken--- troubled spirit, troubled follower -- looking for the Great Potter to restore me to wholeness.
Onward then.
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