Appearances and realities

So many of the psalms are like Psalm 3 - a cry to God for help and a testimony to His love and faithfulness. But what stands out to me as unique in this psalm is the end of verse 2: "Many are they who say of me, 'There is no help for him in God.'" Despite all that the psalmist knows to be true of God, the thoughts and words of those around him still have an impact on his life; like Job's wife, they make it harder, by their lack of faith, for him to remain faithful.

God is our salvation and our shield, our glory and our comfort, through any and all circumstances, as the rest of Psalm 3 goes on to say with beauty and power, but it doesn't always appear that way on the outside, to other people. To them, when we are going through some sorrow or trial, it may seem as if God has forsaken us or does not hear our cries. And even though we know that God is faithful, and that He has some good purpose for what we're going through, the naysayers around us can make it even more difficult for us to endure with faith and hope than it would have been in any case. When that is the case (and hopefully, if one is in a good community of believers, it is not often the case!), I think the example of the psalmist here is a good one: he reminds himself of God's power and past faithfulness, holding onto God - clinging to God with all his might - when all the world around him is trying to tear him apart or to make it seem that God is not who He has declared Himself to be. He finds strength for the present trial in the memory of the love and goodness of God he has seen revealed time and time again, and he refuses to let the feelings of the moment defeat the eternal truth that he knows, no matter how many voices weigh in on the side of those feelings.

The power that underlies grace

In Psalm 2, the rule of God - rightful and almighty authority - is contrasted with the rule of man - proud and greedy grasping for power and autonomy. We see the kings and rulers of the earth attempting to free themselves from what they perceive to be the bonds and chains of God over their lives, and God responding with derision because their attempt is so incredibly futile and with wrath because it is idolatrous rebellion and sin. But to be honest, the way the psalm is written has always been confusing to me, because it seems to paint God in a very negative light: as a wrathful God who delights in carrying out judgment on rebellious creatures, who desires to rule with an iron fist as a complete dictator, and before whom we come as cowering, terror-stricken subjects hoping that He will not be angry with us this time.

And this picture is so utterly the opposite of God as He has revealed Himself in the rest of Scripture that for a long time I've skirted around this psalm, bracketing it off in my mind as one of those parts of the Bible and Christianity that I just don't understand yet (which I think is often a healthy and helpful thing to do, because after all we are limited by nature and our understanding is furthermore hampered by sin, and there are a lot of things we don't understand now and may never understand at all in this life.) What I think I'm coming to understand, however, is that the focus of this psalm isn't on God's anger so much as it is on God's rightful and legitimate power and authority - and in our culture, we tend not to dwell much on that power and authority. A God of enduring faithfulness and unending love, without earth-shattering power or the authority of a judge and king, is a comfortable God, a God we can safely ignore when we want to but who will be there for us when we need Him. But the God who created the universe, without whose sustaining power our lives would not last a second, and whose innate holiness defines a moral law we can't even come close to living up to, is not a comfortable God. The God who seeks to reconquer our rebellious hearts with His grace and lovingkindness is also the God who will utterly destroy us in His righteous judgment if we refuse to surrender. And I think, if we lose our understanding of God's power and authority in judgment - if we cease to see God as the rightful and righteous King and Judge - we will also lose our understanding of the depths of His love and the riches of His grace. He is indeed a terrible and powerful God; the whisper of His wrath would utterly destroy us. But we do not need to be afraid or cower before Him without hope, awaiting the inevitable judgment, because He is also a God of love, who extends salvation to His people, and "blessed are all those who put their trust in Him."

You will come again tomorrow, won't you?

In Kierkegaard's discourse To Be Contented with Being a Human Being, he has a lovely little illustration of the difference between an attitude colored by anxiety and an attitude of contentment and trust:

"If a girl in love said to her beloved when he came to visit her, 'You will come again tomorrow, won't you?' - there would still be some anxiety in her love. But if, without mentioning tomorrow, she threw her arms around his neck and said, 'Oh, thank you for coming today' - then she would indeed be altogether assured about tomorrow. Or if there were two girls, and the one said to her beloved, 'You will come again tomorrow, won't you?' and the other said, 'Oh, thank you for coming today' - which of the two would be more convinced that the beloved would come again tomorrow?"

Kierkegaard's point is that if we are worrying about something in the future, it shows that we do not have full trust and assurance in the person responsible for that something. If we are fully and completely trusting in that person, we need not even think about the future, much less worry and question about it. We can instead delight with gratitude in the present moment. So if someone trusts God to provide for him, then even when he has no money for the next day's needs he can thank God for supplying his needs for this day, and let the future rest in God's hands. This kind of genuine unshakeable faith can be seen in the life of George Mueller, a Prussian pastor in England during the mid 1800s, who opened orphanages in Bristol in response to the great need he saw there, eventually becoming able to care for 2000 children at a time in these homes. Because he carried out this work without asking anyone for money (and because he didn't even accept a salary for himself from his pastoral position!), choosing instead to rely completely on God, he was able to see God provide countless times, in countless ways. People would donate money just as it was needed, or in the exact amount required; once, when they had no food at all, he still gathered all the children together to give thanks for breakfast - and donated food arrived just as they finished their prayers.

For most of us today, Mueller's situation is far from the actual experience of our lives. But we still have needs, and we still have worries - in fact, it seems that worries do not decrease even when needs do! For my husband and I, right now, those worries tend to be about planning and decision-making as we're both at the beginning of career paths with a multitude of options in front of us for both those careers and the family we want to have someday. It would be easy to worry, for instance, that Paul won't be accepted to a PT school and our lives will remain in limbo, or that he will be accepted and I won't be able to get a job after the move, or that we would find ourselves unexpectedly pregnant. And I have worried about all those things, and I've poured out my anxiety and questions to God many times - but while it is good to take my anxieties to Him, I need to do so with an attitude of trust. Only when I truly trust Him can He actually calm the worries and fears in my heart. When my heart is content in Him, responding with joy and gratitude for the guidance and provision He has given me today, convinced that He will continue to lead and provide in the future - then, and only then, will I be able to find peace from my worries.

Silently waiting

As the year advances and Paul and I are still waiting (endlessly, it seems) to know for sure where we'll be in the fall and what this next year will look like, it's been hard for me not to be anxious or impatient. So I found in this verse both encouragement and peace:

"Truly my soul silently waits for God;
From Him comes my salvation.
He only is my rock and my salvation;
He is my defense;
I shall not be greatly moved." - Psalm 62:1-2

That first line in particular stands out to me, and I think the word "silently" is especially important. What it implies is that in our waiting (for God's direction and timing), we ought to stop all the complains and questions that rise up in our minds, and to put an end to the anxiety and impatience that dwells in our hearts. Then, when we've cleared all that away, there is space and energy left to genuinely trust God with the peace and calm of a little child.

Honestly, it's rather liberating to trust in this way. The little moments I manage to actually trust, instead of just stuffing the worries deeper inside or pretending that everything will be work out exactly the way I want it, are really awesome, because it lets me out of the confinements of my own fears and uncertainties into the full breadth and depth of God's faithfulness and sovereignty. Instead of hearing only my own anxiety or impatience going around in my head over and over again, my heart in its quietness can hear the truth and love God speaks to me. He is my rock! When all else is unknown and uncertain, He is who He is, unchanging and eternal.

Waiting in unknowing inaction

Sometimes beauty and peace come from waiting, from hidden times of refining and maturing, from taking the long road through desolate places - from passing through the darkness and the pain instead of skirting around it. On the other side, one finds that there has grown within him a new depth and strength of character, a patience and endurance he never had before, and with that endurance new reserves of hope and faith.

We never want to wait. The months of engagement before a wedding, though full of joy and excitement, can be almost tortuous at times because of the heights of anticipation, the constant pushing forward as though by sheer will power the days can be made to go past more quickly. When we have had an interview for a job or a school or a scholarship, the time spent waiting to know what the decision will be is charged with impatience and anxiety - as we say, we can't wait to hear back. Whether we want something or fear something, the time before we obtain our desire or before the dreaded moment arrives seems unendurable. Even if it ends with bad news, we want it to be over, so we don't have to wait any longer, so we don't have to wrestle with worries and dreams, hopes and fears: so we can know what is to be, and act accordingly.

Waiting feels like inaction. Passivity, helplessness, lack of control, inefficiency - all these words describe how it feels to be forced to sit back and wait. There is no more preparation to be done, no more actions to take; all that is left is to wait. And so we wait fitfully and uncomfortably, even angrily, chafing at the bit. But maybe waiting can be a blessing and a gift, despite its unwelcome appearance. Because waiting demands inaction, a cessation of all our frantic planning and activity, it offers us a chance to rest. Because it holds us captive in a state of unknowing, it gives us an opportunity to learn to trust the God who does know what the future holds. We can choose to wear ourselves down with worry, or we can choose to wait with patience, to endure the pain of not knowing and not being able to do anything about it, and in so waiting to deepen our trust and strengthen our character and our faith.

An armor of peace around my heart

Either I am rapidly turning into a worrier or I have always been one and am now just starting to realize it! Whichever alternative it is, it is rather annoying...

I feel that, in some sense, worry is antithetical to trust and faith, and one of the central facets of being a Christian is having trust and faith in God. For instance, if I am trusting God with my feelings of self-worth and identity, then I shouldn't be worrying about what the people around me think about what I'm wearing, or what the other church-goers will think about me having to raise my hand to ask for a Bible when I forget mine. Those things truly will not affect who I believe myself to be if I am defining myself in faith based on what God has declared to be true about me! So the worry and the trust aren't exactly able to coexist, at least not without a struggle.

On the positive side, if we are willing to take a step towards faith and away from worry, God lets us know how and accompanies it with a pretty awesome promise:

"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." - Phil. 4:6-7 

That's probably a familiar verse to most of you, and it is to me as well, but let's not allow its familiarity to diminish its power and impact in our lives! I see here a wonderful promise: that if we take action against against our worry by taking our requests and anxieties to God with prayer and thanksgiving, we can be assured that our hearts and our minds will be defended and protected by God's own peace, in Jesus. And from what will they be defended, one might ask? Primarily they will be guarded from anxiety itself, I believe - but I also think that God's peace will work to defend us against many of the emotions and sins that accompany worry: fear of rejection, for example, or the need for the approval of others, or an inability to speak the truth boldly. These are different for each person, but the common thread is that they, entering our hearts on worry's coattails, attack our faith in God and consequently threaten our actions of obedience to God.

So let us go forth into the stress and anxiety that the holiday season can engender (or let's face it, if you're anything like me, that any season of life can engender) full of prayer and thanksgiving, that we may build in Christ an armor of peace around our hearts and our minds!

When the road ahead is hidden

In my ideal world I would know what I wanted to do with my life, have a plan for accomplishing it, and be happily embarked upon said plan (I also wouldn't have this little cut on my finger that makes typing so uncomfortable, but I digress...). My goal would involve serving God, having a family, and making a difference in individual lives and in society as a whole, and all of this would be neatly packaged into one coherent vision and dream for my future.

In the real world, I don't even have the first little piece of this down.

It's been a great cause of stress and anxiety these past few weeks, as Paul's plans and hopes are becoming a lot more solid and the prospect of real change in our lives is starting to loom on the horizon. It is very likely that I will only be working at my current job until the middle or end of this summer, and after that I'll have to decide what to do with myself. Do I find another similar job in whatever city we move to for Paul's physical therapy program? Do I pursue a master's degree in a related field? Or do I drastically change things in my life and find a job or obtain a higher degree in a different field, maybe something involving ministry? What would I enjoy more? What would be better in the long run? What would be the right path to choose? I've been terrified of making the wrong choice - but I've defined that "wrong choice" in such a way that I'm not sure if any choice could be right! After all, how do I make a career or education choice now if I don't have a clear vision for the future?

In the midst of this whirlpool of questions and worries and doubts, a thought came to me. Maybe, since I don't have a clear vision for the future, I need to find out what is best for the present time. Maybe instead of wondering where I'd like to be in 10 years, and centering my life around that goal I ought to consider the circumstances in which God has placed me now and in the near foreseeable future and endeavor to determine what course would be best in those circumstances. I'm not in any way suggesting that I be irresponsible about the future - I'm just thinking that because I have a lack of vision for myself I should look at the things God has given me to see now, choose based on what I can and do know, and let God deal with the future.

Another thought that came to me as I thought and prayed about these things was that while I don't have a definite vision or dream for my future, Paul does have a vision for his future. He knows the career he is called to, and he is actively pursuing it. Maybe as his wife - as the person intended by God to be his supporter and encourager - I can work for the fulfillment of his dream. Not having a dream of my own right now may be the perfect opportunity for me to help Paul reach his. In the cold light of worldly practicality that might seem like too high of a risk. Why should I work for the next few years instead of immediately pursuing higher education, just to make it easier for Paul to get his degree? What if he leaves, or something happens to him? Well, he won't leave. That worry can be set aside. But it is true that something could happen to him. You know what, though? Love takes risks. That particular risk might not be the one I take; my plans are still completely unsettled. Just because it is risky, though, doesn't mean it might not be the best choice, at this time, for me.

Through all of this, I am starting to learn that life has chapters. All the joy doesn't come at one time, leaving the rest to be a preparation or a letdown. The good of a higher degree could come next year, or in ten years, or in twenty; the good of investing in my husband by working while he gets his degree might be the joy of this chapter instead. And whenever the good does come, and whatever the good may be in this particular chapter, what matters is that I am following God and loving the people He has put into my life. With this plan to guide every little step each day, it is ok that I don't have a clear vision for my overall and long-term future right now (although I still would very much like one!). My ideal world, however, where I know the direction I should go and how everything will work together, must be set aside in favor of the real world if I am to keep following God; if He does not reveal the road more than a step at a time, my duty (and my joy!) is to take the step that is revealed and trust Him to show me the next one, not to endlessly delay until the whole course is made plain. I will be faithful in the small steps I take in the fog, trusting Him to lead me on the path He has chosen for me, and who know what joys await me on that road?

Samuel and the stone of help

The people of Israel were terrified of the Philistines. The memory of their last conflict with them, more than twenty years ago, still lingered in their minds with a bitter and mournful taste: the ark of the Lord had been captured, the two sons of Eli the priest had been killed in the battle, and the old man himself had died on hearing the news. The ark had been returned after the Lord plagued the Philistines, but He'd also killed some Israelites because of that ark, so it wasn't a guarantee that the Lord would be on their side.

This new priest Samuel, however, truly knew God. In addition to being the priest of the Lord, he was a prophet, and the Lord let none of his words fall empty to the ground. So when he told the people of Israel that God would deliver them from the Philistines if they would stop serving other gods and worship Him alone, they listened even though their fears  still lay close to their hearts. While Samuel prayed on their behalf, all the people gathered together to repent of their idolatry and sacrifice to the Lord, and they fasted in the sorrow of the hearts as they realized the depth of their sin.

But as they gathered together in repentance, the Philistines thought they were gathered as a threat and a council of war, and in the confidence of their might they marched upon Israel, in whose hearts fear once again rose up. In their fear, however, they turned to the Lord their refuge and their strength, and He heard their cries and the prayers and offerings of His servant Samuel, and even as the Philistines drew near for battle He thundered against them with power and terror so that they were overcome by the people of Israel. He did not require strength or might or skill from His people - simply hearts that sought Him.

Then Samuel took a stone and set it up at the place of the battle and called it Ebenezer, which means "Stone of Help", as a memorial to the strength of the Lord in the help and defense of His people. The Philistines were not completely overthrown - this was still years before the famous story of David and Goliath - but it was important for them to commemorate the work of God as it happened, in the middle of the process, acknowledging His favor and grace even before the time of fulfillment. In the old language of the hymns we sing,

"Here I raise my Ebenezer
Hither by Thy help I've come.
And I hope by Thy good pleasure
Safely to arrive at home."

And we sing these words even though we might be in a place of sorrow or fear, and even though the home at which we seek to arrive seems incredibly distant and our hearts are weary and weak, because we have seen His help. He has been with us as He has been with all who have walked before us in our faith, and we can look to our memorial stones, the Ebenezers we establish at the times of great grace when His working is clear, to remind us that there is still a reason to trust Him when His help seems far away. I know I have many of these (one is an actual stone, which is neat; some are just memories), and in remembering His past faithfulness I am encouraged to trust in His present and future faithfulness, just as the people of Israel through all their future struggles with the Philistines might have been encouraged whenever they walked past or remembered this Ebenezer that Samuel established - when they returned to God and He fought against their enemies on their behalf and liberated them from their oppressors.

A rant about making decisions for the future

While randomly reading old archives on a recently discovered blog, To Love, Honor, and Vacuum, I found this quote:

"Just for fun, I recently asked readers on my Facebook page about the worst advice they had ever been given.
Many people seemed to regret their education. They didn’t pursue dreams because they were supposed to go to university, and now they have debt and no real joy in their jobs. Others, of course, regretted not getting an education in the first place."

This is the dilemma, isn't it? When you're trying to make choices about your future, do you invest in the education everyone thinks you should get, and potentially regret the sink of time, energy, and resources? Or do you forego the education to pursue what you think you want to do (or what you think God wants you to do), and later on have regrets because you aren't qualified for the jobs you want and your "dream" was just a passing whim of young adulthood?

I know that a lot of people - the prudent, cautious, "always have a back-up plan" people - advocate getting that education no matter what. Even if you don't plan on using it, apparently, it might be good to have at some unknown time in the future - if it isn't hopelessly outdated by then (for instance, getting a masters in a computing field now might not be that helpful twenty-five years from now when you're done being a stay-at-home mom and are looking to reenter the workforce!), or if your desires and outlook on life haven't totally changed over the years (somehow I don't think I'm going to be exactly the same person, with the same goals and priorities, when I'm nearing fifty... I'm hoping I'll have learned a lot more about life and about who I am!). Honestly, to me, it seems like it could be just a waste of your time, especially if it isn't something you're passionate about.

Steve Jobs, in his famous Stanford commencement speech, said this:

"Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary."

While I think it is really important to seek what God desires for you, and not just follow your heart blindly without His guidance, there is still a sense in which I emphatically agree with his words. If there is something your heart is burning for you to do, there is no point at all in getting a degree in a semi-related subject with better marketability just to have a back-up plan. I feel that if you're going to pursue something because it is your dream and the call of God in your life, you should pursue it wholeheartedly, without reservation or fear. If God is calling you in a specific direction - if your heart is longing to walk a certain path with Him - then put your hand to the plow and do not look back. Let Him be your safety net and your back-up plan. Trust Him with your worries and your fears and your questions about the future. If you can put your trust in a graduate degree to bring you food and financial stability in a time of crisis, surely you can find enough faith to trust the God and Creator of the universe to manage those same things.

"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." - Matthew 6:28-33

More on trusting

I had to call my endocrinologist again today, because they never called me back about my prescription refill, and tomorrow is my last pill at the correct dosage (I have a small stock of sample packs that I would need to take 1 1/2 of each day, that the doctor once gave me when they had no samples at my dosage). It's not fun being hypothyroid, and there's a lot I could worry about, as I posted earlier. But I've been making it my goal to trust God with this whole situation, and I've asked Him to help me with that trust (because I know that if I simply try in my own strength, I'm going to end up full of worry and anxiety all over again) - and you know what? I am trusting Him. For once I can say that as a statement of fact rather than as something I know I ought to be doing and don't want anyone to know that I'm struggling with.

If I don't have thyroid pills for the next month, it'll be ok. Why? Because it is all in God's hands, and if He brings all my efforts to nothing, it is His will that I go through that month without medicine. I don't know why, but I know that He does. And I trust Him to be doing what is best.

Looking at people all over the world in all kinds of different situations makes me realize how small of a thing my problem really is, and how really learning how to trust God with it is like the little faltering steps of a baby compared to the strong strides of those who have truly learned to trust God in the most painful, difficult, horrific or seemingly irrational situations. But for me, it is a big thing. And it is super encouraging! See, I look at it this way: if I can trust God with this - if I can really truly honestly believe that it is all in His hands and whichever way it works out is under His control - then I can trust God with anything! I can trust Him with leading us to the right school for graduate study, and with giving me clarity and direction for my future. I can trust Him with the financial aspects of paying for PT school for Paul and a master's for me, and I can trust Him with the timing of the children we want to have. I can trust Him with the classes I'm taking this semester, and with the relationships I'm building with people around me. I can trust Him with my marriage, and I can trust Him with my family, and I can trust Him with the little things like deciding where to spend which holidays. It is incredibly liberating! That burden of anxiety has been lifted from my shoulders by the strong and loving hands of my Lord, and I am so very thankful.

Trust and thyroid hormones

Almost three years ago my thyroid started to peter out. For months I was always exhausted and continually running a low-grade fever, prone to catch every small cold floating around, and losing weight (I think I lost 15 pounds in all, in less than 6 months) because I was too tired to eat. It took a while to figure out what was wrong with me, since fever is not a common symptom of a thyroid problem but was the main reason why my mom was able to convince me to go to the doctor at all, but eventually all was made clear and for over two years now I've had to take a little purple pill every morning to keep my body functioning well with the proper amount of thyroid hormone. It's a bit of a hassle, and I periodically have to go back to the doctor to have blood drawn so they can evaluate the hormone levels and give me a prescription to last until the next appointment. So... at my last appointment in February, they told me they were going to switch me from 6 months between visits to a year between visits, because I'm pretty stable, but unfortunately, as I discovered a few weeks ago, I don't have enough refills prescribed to get me through to February. Actually, not counting the random sample packs I've collected over the years, which are running low anyways, I have until Friday. This is very stressful for me! I tried calling the office last Monday, when I realized the problem, but they never called me back, and today I left my phone at home so I suppose I'll have to call again tomorrow instead of today. I am a worrier at the best of times, and it is so easy for me to imagine all kinds of worst-case scenarios, where they can't get me in for weeks and I'm left without any medicine and start crashing again, ending up barely able to make it through work and class, completely worn out by the time I get home each day (thus having no energy for making dinner, or cleaning the house, or spending time with Paul). But I'm thinking that maybe God let me and the doctors fall into this oversight for a reason. Maybe He wants me to learn to trust Him more, you know? If I am trusting only myself, and relying only on my own strength, I have every reason to worry right now because it doesn't look like things will work out in the right timing. But if I am trusting God and relying on His strength, knowing that He has everything in His hands, then I can have faith that things will work out in exactly the timing that He desires, according to His good purpose, and I don't need to worry. It's hard for me not to worry, but I do believe that I have a sovereign, loving, faithful Lord who cares even about these little details of my life! So I can trust Him even when I can't see how everything will turn out :)

The dirt itself rejoices

It can be so easy to be discontented with where I am in life, even when rationally I am convinced that I am where God wants me to be. I look back to the past, and miss things I used to do that, for whatever reason, are no longer a part of my life (like short-term mission trips, or going to my old church), or I miss dreams that I once had that I now know can no longer ever be (at least not in the way I had envisioned them, once upon a time). I look forward to the future, and I see all the hopes and plans and desires I have, and can become impatient in my desiring, unable to wait for them to come to fruition in God's timing. Or I can look at the present, and choose to see only the things that aren't quite right, that make me uncomfortable or anxious or stressed.

You know what the problem is, with this way of looking at the world?

It never leaves you a time to be happy.

The way to be happy - the way to find joy - is to praise God in the present, to seek Him now, to choose to see the beauty in the place and time in which He has set you, to thank Him for His goodness and faithfulness and sovereignty in working out everything - here and now - just the way He has. When you look at the world through eyes of trust and gratitude, you can be content anywhere; when you look at the world through eyes of discontentment, striving to make yourself and your circumstances worthwhile by your own strength, you will never be content though you have everything you thought your heart desired.

When the rain finally falls after a long drought, the dirt itself in its dryness rejoices. Do I rejoice when the rain of His refreshing falls on my thirsty soul, or do I complain that it is not enough?

"Because Your lovingkindness is better than life,
My lips shall praise You.
Thus I will bless You while I live;
I will lift up my hands in Your name.
My soul shall be satisfied as with marrow and fatness,
And my mouth shall praise You with joyful lips." - Psalm 63:3-5, emphasis added

His love is enough reason to be satisfied, regardless of what else is happening in my life.

Being seen by God

I get kind of scared when I think about God always watching me, always seeing me even down to the depths of my heart and the hidden places inside me. I mean, He is good and holy and just, and there is so much in me that is bad, and so much in addition that is just weak and useless and cluttering. Sigh. I don't know why He would want to see down into those places! Doesn't it disgust Him, to see what lies inside my heart? Does He ever regret redeeming me and adopting me into His family, when the price was so high and I am so worthless even after all He has done for me and in me?

But look at how Nicholas of Cusa writes about it:
"... Thou never ceasest most lovingly to behold me, yea, even the secret places of my soul. With Thee, to behold is to give life; 'tis unceasingly to impart sweetest love of Thee; 'tis to inflame me to love of Thee by love's imparting, and to feed me by inflaming, and by feeding to kindle my yearnings, and by kindling to make me drink of the dew of gladness, and by drinking to infuse in me a fountain of life, and by infusing to make it increase and endure." - The Vision of God

How do I change my way of thinking so that it is more like his? How do I consistently cause myself to perceive God as loving, regarding me with care rather than in judgment? How do I find joy and gladness in the knowledge that He beholds me? Sometimes I do have that gladness in the assurance of His love, but other times I just get scared or afraid or feel like a failure, falling short of what He desires from me. So what distinguishes those two times? In the first, I am choosing to trust Him, to lean upon Him, to look on Him in faith; in the second, I don't trust Him, I want to be perfect in my own power, and I am focused on myself and my shortcomings rather than on Him in His glory and goodness. So I should spend more time in the first mindset, if I want to spend more time in that incredible joy which comes from feeling the presence and love of our Lord! Even when it is emotionally hard for me, I should do my best to cultivate faith and practice trust in the God whose love is far greater than I can comprehend.

Death and life

I think that my mind dwells too readily on death. Sometimes when my heart is full of pain and weariness I think about my own death, and it seems like a doorway of hope into a world of beauty and light. Other times, when my heart is full of need and fear, I think about the death of the people I love because I dread losing them. The slightest thing can go wrong in a schedule and my mind will wonder if they've had a car crash and I'll never see them again - or they can go in to the doctor for a cold or a minor problem and I worry that they'll have cancer or some other incurable disease and I'll have to begin the long process of saying goodbye. Anyway, I don't know if it's altogether good to be thinking of death so much, at least in the ways in which I think of it. Death isn't something either to be sought out or to be feared, I think.

To seek death is to forsake life - to deem all that life holds insufficient and worthless, to spurn the plans of God, to declare oneself the ultimate authority and power while simultaneously feeling utterly helpless and insignificant. It is the fight - the last desperate stand and even the apparent victory - of pride and the desire for self-sufficiency against the seemingly insurmountable obstacles of life and the unconquerable and undeniable faults and sins in oneself. It appears courageous to take that step into the utter unknown, but it is equally a cringing mournful fear of the perceived pain and hopelessness of life.

To fear death is to be attached to the comforts of life at the expense of the greatness of life. It demonstrates a willingness to remain half-human, absorbed in trivial pleasures, blinding oneself to the breathtaking visions and dreams of life because of the risks they entail. It is to see a narrower world than that which exists in reality - to see only the separation for a time and fail to see the reunion of eternity, to acknowledge only the pain of today and not the joy of forever. It is to think, in incredible pride, that one's own pain and suffering in this moment outweighs all the other purposes for which God is calling a person (oneself or another) out of this world.

In both cases there is a lack of trust in God and an attempt to control one's own life apart from Him. Neither reflects those timeless words of the Apostle Paul in his letter to the Philippians: "For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain." He did not go wildly forth seeking his own death in his own timing, because he knew that God had a further purpose for his life here on earth, and likewise he did not limit what he ventured for the gospel in fear of the possibility of death. He risked death because he wanted to live for something greater than himself.

Pleasing or trusting

In rereading Truefaced (since I haven't yet returned it, and am delaying doing so as long as possible...), one of the ideas that jumped out at me was that the path of Pleasing God is not the best one to take. That contradicts pretty much everything about the way I live! I try so hard to do everything right, to make God and other people happy with who I am and the way I live, and now this book has the nerve to tell me that I'm going about it all wrong?

When I think about it honestly, though - when I set aside my fear and pride long enough to listen to what the book is saying, and take the time to look at my own life without becoming defensive - I am forced to admit that it is right. Ultimately, living to please God first and foremost leaves me empty, unfulfilled, feeling like my life is meaningless and like I am a complete failure, because as long as I strive to please God on my own, as long as I try to eliminate my sin by my own power to earn His approval, and as long as I attempt to win His acceptance by my earnest efforts to obey His commands, I will keep failing. It simply isn't possible to accomplish those tasks in myself, without His grace.

What is the alternative, then? According to Truefaced, the other path to choose is that of Trusting God. Trusting God with my imperfection and sin means trusting Him to love me and be delighted in me as His daughter despite those things in my life, and trusting Him to have a plan to cleanse and renew me of those things. That can be really hard sometimes, when I don't feel worthy of love and can't imagine how He can keep pouring it over me with grace, or when I feel trapped in the same struggles I've had for years and don't see how His hand is at work to sanctify me.In the end, though, it is worth it. Trusting Him brings peace and joy and contentment to life, and even better, it brings a deeper knowledge of and intimacy with God. When I'm trusting Him, I'm free to truly receive and experience His love and grace and power, and I'm free to respond authentically to it. What more could I desire?

Marriage is hard because I am a sinner

I've decided that marriage is hard, but not in the ways people warned me about.

They told me we would have disagreements and fights and get angry at each other over trivial things. They told me that we would both begin the marriage with unrealistic expectations of the other person, and have to deal with the disappointment of realizing they weren't all we thought they would be. They told me we would have conflicts over the patterns of daily life, like who uses the shower when, and how clean the room should be, and what time someone ought to be home. Have we had any of that? Yes, most definitely. (And mostly because of me - Paul has been really patient, understanding, and thoughtful through this whole transition period). But that hasn't really been the hardest part for me.

You know what's hard? What's hard is coming home after a long day and simultaneously wanting to cry in his arms, cool off by myself with a book, make him dinner because I love him, and hear how his day went. What's hard is learning how to manage my needs and wants and his needs and wants at the same time, without burning out and crashing or being totally self-centered. What's hard is wanting to love and be loved while at the same time being petrified with fear that he'll be upset with me or reject me. What's hard is overcoming the emotions that keep me from trusting someone I know to be incredibly trustworthy, and not spiraling downward into inaction from feeling like such a failure in that area. What's hard is wanting to be perfect for him because he's so wonderful, and constantly falling short. What's hard is needing to receive grace from Paul and from God just to get through normal life. Sigh.

I guess marriage is hard for me because it puts so much strain on my pride, my proud and arrogant desire to be self-sufficient and independent, and my impossible wish to be able to give love without being vulnerable in response. If that is why, though, it's a good reason. Those things need to be dethroned! Hopefully these hard aspects of marriage will be a catalyst to deepen my relationship with God, my understanding of His grace, and my love for Paul - and then it will all be worth it :)

Broken love

When I tell Paul I love him, sometimes he responds by saying thank you, and sometimes when he tells me he loves me, I respond by saying thank you. The love of another person is such a precious gift! They are choosing to give their trust, affection, time, service, and so on to an imperfect fellow human, risking the hurt of rejection or loss, setting aside their own self-interests. It's pretty unbelievable, when you stop and think about it. Who am I, that I would deserve the love of another person? Who are any of us, to deserve any kind of love? We've all hurt those who love us (at least, I know I have, and knowing human nature it's pretty likely that most everyone else has too), but we still end up receiving love from others.

That's only one side of the coin, though.

When I tell Paul I love him, sometimes I feel like I'm saying empty words because what I call love - the feelings, the desire, the commitment, the trust - falls so short of what God calls love. (I don't know if he feels that way too sometimes.) The love that is never provoked, never boasts, is never rude, thinks no evil, and so on - you know the passage - that's not the love I have to give to the people that matter to me. My love is quite easily provoked. My love has to work hard sometimes not to think the worst of someone when something is unknown in a situation. My love fails. My love is broken. But I still want to give it, and more than that I want to give as much of God's love coming through me as I can, because it is only by His love that I can love truly and beautifully.

Offering a broken love, and receiving it with thanks, both take place in humble recognition of human sinfulness. I have nothing of my own to give, but I give all that I have to the one I love. I deserve nothing, but I receive what you give me as grace. In both actions I lay my solitary self down and choose to enter into relationship, to trust another person and open up my very heart to them. And in both actions I set aside my pride - the pride that makes me want to perfect my love before I give it to another person, for fear of failing, and that makes me want to prove my self-sufficiency by getting on just fine without receiving someone else's love. So even though it's broken, our love can reflect God's love and really be something to be thankful for :)

Living intentionally: the little hills rejoice on every side

"You crown the year with Your goodness,
And Your paths drip with abundance.
They drop on the pastures of the wilderness,
And the little hills rejoice on every side.
The pastures are clothed with flocks;
The valleys also are covered with grain;
They shout for joy, they also sing." - Psalm 65:11-13

God delights in blessing, in providing, in pouring out His goodness and love upon His people. He rejoices in bringing abundance out of the wilderness and joy out of sorrow when we walk in His ways. It just sometimes takes a while, like it takes plants time to grow and bear fruit each year, but that doesn't mean that He isn't trustworthy or good. When His abundance bears a rich harvest in our hearts, we will shout and sing with the overwhelming, heartrending joy of it all! And while the harvest is in the making, when the abundance isn't always so obvious, I will choose to trust Him and find joy in Him (you know, as much as I can, and definitely leaning on His grace for it. Trust and joy are really hard for me sometimes, but they're where I want to be.)

Taste and see

I have so much to write about that it's overwhelming! But here is one small thought while I have a moment.

Sometimes I don't experience God's help and love and comfort because I push it away. I tell Him and myself that I don't deserve it, or that I don't need it (because I don't want to admit that I'm hurting and weak). So then as I sit there in my hurt, which is often self-inflicted, I start to question whether God cares about me. Obviously He does! He only feels distant because I am afraid to draw near to Him, because I am afraid to have weaknesses and needs and thus am afraid to receive His love.

"Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good;
Blessed is the man who trusts in Him!" - Psalm 34:8

If I refuse to eat or even taste the food that is offered to me, how can I judge whether or not He is good? And every time I have chosen to trust Him, I have seen that He is indeed very good, and that with trust come blessing and joy.

I trust in Your deliverance

This is from one of my favorite psalms:

"I love the Lord, because He has heard
My voice and my supplications.
Because He has inclined His ear to me,
Therefore I will call upon Him as long as I live...

For You have delivered my soul from death,
My eyes from tears,
And my feet from falling.
I will walk before the Lord
In the land of the living."

Psalm 116:1-2, 8-9

I do choose to trust You, God, to deliver me now and always as You have delivered me in the past, and to hear me when I cry to You as You have always heard me before. You will not forsake Your child in times of trouble and sorrow, for You are always faithful.