Friday, November 6, 2020

What's Coming Might Be Fear. And That Might Be Good.

 "The presence of doubt and fear does not prove the absence of trust." -- Alexander Maclaren

"Is that biblical?" I wondered. For years I had heard, "There are 365 'Fear nots' in the Bible -- one for every day of the year." I had heard things like, "Fear is a liar," and "All throughout Scripture we are commanded, 'Do not be afraid.'" To break a command is a sin, right? Fear must be bad, and it must be bad because it means I don't trust the One who can keep me from it. Right? I'm not sure it's that simple.

We have a membership to a roadside assistance agency. Do I fear a breakdown each time I leave the house? Certainly not. Do I fear being stranded as I'm trying to get to someplace important or I have loved ones with me? Somewhat. Do I fear sitting in a disabled vehicle for hours through the night? Now we might be moving the needle a little closer to "Fear." But it's a type of fear or serious concern that causes me to take action. I guess you could call it a "healthy fear." It causes me to make sure our membership is paid. It doesn't mean I panic each time I get behind the wheel, or obsess over the possibilities throughout my day or even, throughout my drive. It simply demands I take precautions. But, I didn't always think that way. I used to travel anywhere in my vehicle. At any hour. In any season or weather. It never crossed my mind I was doing something reckless or dangerous. If my older vehicle had broken down in some of the areas I traveled then, I could have been in some real trouble. And, sometimes, I had my young children with me. Experience and fear has caused me to rethink the way I do things.

I think, as Christians, we need to stop beating one another and ourselves up over our fear. This world is rough, God knows that. Fear of it can prompt us to do good things, safe things, the right things -- like trust! Fear, as a way of life can be damaging and sinful -- just like chasing wealth, or busyness, or women, or anything other than God. We are not to be slaves of fear, gripped by fear. But fear, in and of itself, is not some scarlet letter to mark us untrusting or faithless. Just the opposite may be true. Because of my fear, the knowledge that my abilities are finite and I am vulnerable, I trust more. I have to put my faith in Someone bigger, better equipped and willing to help. Have you ever done that thing where you put the tape over that little light on the dash? You may have just ignored the thing that's telling you to get your vehicle to the one who can fix it. Denying the fear that creeps up when something threatens us is not some "godly response to sin." Pretending fear doesn't exist merely lends credence to the ability to talk yourself into confidence or white-knuckle your way through a situation. Denying fear is a form of self-sufficiency, self-idolatry. "I can make this go away." Instead, you could be suppressing the very thing God wants to use to turn you to Him. We all fear. We should not live in fear -- for Jesus is the answer -- but we should never judge its presence as mistrust or faithlessness. Our reaction to fear, what we do or do not allow God to do with fear determines the presence of trust. 

These days, I have FOMO, fear of missing out. I fear missing all God has planned for my life. I do! I want it all! Every bit of goodness and mercy and sanctification and prosperity and testimony and work He desires me to have! My FOMO causes me to search and know His Word, listening for the voice of His Spirit that I might partake of all He has to offer. I draw closer to Him because fear has warned me of danger, the danger of trying to navigate this crazy world on my own. Fear has led me right to the Shepherd, the One in whom I can trust.

Tuesday, November 3, 2020

This Marriage Takes Three

The phone rang, his name appeared on my dash, and immediately my jaw tightened. Scott never calls during my morning commute. "Where are you right now?" Those words. Mom had been sick for more than a week, her frail little body bouncing from one illness to another. My heart began to race. Before I answered -- maybe as I was answering -- I began to wonder how it all would sound in my ears, how he would tell me. Maybe he would say, "Well, you need to get home; I have something to tell you." I mean, when a loved one is ill and someone says something like that, don't people automatically know? The caller might be thinking, "I want to be able to comfort her. I don't want her to be alone when she hears." But, in essence, you've heard, and you are alone, maybe more alone than you've ever been in your life. I tried to prepare myself for the words to follow. 

"Babe, your mom got sick. I mean, really sick. Sick like I've never seen." I held my breath. "It's everywhere. The whole basement stinks. You need to brace for impact." I waited. "I mean, Babe, it's everywhere!" 

It was my turn. "But, how is she?" I thought he was stalling.

"Oh, she's the same as she's been, you know. She's sitting in the chair right now. But, you really need to brace for impact: it's everywhere." I wasn't sure if I wanted to shout with joy or laugh out loud. I was thrilled she wasn't gone. I was grateful she wasn't gone. But, having my husband think so much of me that he wanted to prepare me for what was to come, knowing he had walked into a scene of such carnage the likes of which he had never experienced, knowing he was sooooo out of his element, and hearing his reaction even as he took the time to warn me, made me want to burst out laughing. It was an enormous wave of relief wrapped in feeling incredibly loved.

This year we celebrated our twelfth wedding anniversary. Maybe not a huge milestone compared to some, but a wonderful one for us. Twelve years of crazy, nail-biting, abundant, sorrowful, stressful, impoverished, blessed, difficult fun! Through it all, we have loved -- sometimes easily with our hearts and sometimes resolutely with our minds. And that love has grown into the feeling I had when I hit "END" that morning.

There was a time when Scott and I would have lost our minds if we'd been ask to do what we did that morning. There was a time when coming home to find the vacuum lines in the carpet even mildly disturbed would have made us crazy. There was a time when he might have turned right around, shut the door to Mom's room and waited the thirty minutes for me to come home. But we have been through so much, and neither of us has emptied the bank account and tossed our phone in the closest dumpster. We have stayed with it because, as ugly as it has gotten and as ugly as we have both acted from time to time, we love because we were first loved by Jesus. I don't think either of us could have continued to love but for the love of Christ. That love has transformed us and continues to transform us. We become more like Jesus and, therefore, more like truth and mercy and grace and love and servanthood. We are drawn to Christ because of who He is and, as He changes us, we are drawn to each other because of who we are becoming.

My ninth grade Bible class focused on dating and marriage. Of everything we heard that year, the thing that stuck with me most, was a diagram the teacher drew to illustrate how godly relationships work. The closer each person draws to Jesus, the closer they are drawn to one another. We are seeing that diagram come to life in our marriage. And for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, in abundance and in want, in clean and in dirty, because of Jesus in our relationship, we love and are loved. Until one of us draws our last breath, there is no magical guarantee on the permanence of our marriage. It's work and it's commitment. Our marriage will only be as solid as our willingness to stay in it. But, praise God, we are not alone.

Sunday, November 1, 2020

Which Role Will You Choose?

This year has some of us taking on roles we never would have chosen. My husband who, before COVID, thought Zoom was only something you did on the interstate, has actually attended a video meeting. Families who'd never considered growing more than restless, started their own gardens and reaped fresh and frugal meals without leaving their homes for decimated grocery stores. Many parents found themselves doing more than just asking, "Did you do your homework?" and spent their "off hours" Googling whatever it was their kids were supposed to be learning at the kitchen table. How well have you done in whatever new role this season has thrust upon you? Perhaps a large portion of success depends on whether you are a teacher or a student. And that might just be true of most of life.

In the home where I was raised, we attended church every Sunday. I went to a Christian school. I belonged to Pioneer Girls and youth group. My life was inundated with learning, and learning the Bible, first and foremost. But, I could just as easily have been learning the Qur'an or the owners manual for the Family Truckster. I knew it. I had amassed great amounts of knowledge from it. I knew fact after fact about its Author. But, in truth, He and I were strangers. I could have gotten straight A's in any Bible class, but I was a terrible student, for I'd missed the point altogether. Strangely, though, I chose to be a teacher. When I met people, I'd tell them about Jesus, all the while living like an anti-Christ. I even told my ex-husband about Jesus, over and over. "You're feeling this way because you don't have Jesus." When he and I were having problems in our marriage, I demanded a Christian counselor -- even though my ex-husband was not a Christian and, looking back, I'm not sure I was either. When friends and coworkers came to me with problems, I always told them they needed Jesus to heal, to be free, to know true love -- whatever, Jesus was always the answer. I made sure my children attended church and had a "religious upbringing." I taught my children at home, reciting prayers and verses with them. I refused to allow my children to watch certain things in our home and blasted my "Christian" music in the house at every opportunity. I taught Sunday school and junior church. Like some holy crusader, I demanded others know the truth. And why not? I knew the truth. I just didn't know Jesus.

But God. He. Changed. Me. Not my friends. not really. Not my ex-husband, or my children, or my coworkers. And if He did, praise His name, but it wasn't for my convenience. He created and is still creating in me, a student. Because of what He has done, I'm not sitting in the pew each Sunday, thinking how great it would be if ____ was here "because she could really stand to hear this." I'm no longer blasting Toby Mac for that neighbor who never seems to be able to park without overhanging my drive. "Girlfriend needs Jesus!" I've learned it may be more important to pray for my children, rather than preach to them. It is much better to trust God to do what He does, rather than demand He acts as I require. And all those lessons I pick up along the way, be it in my daily devotions, or words of wisdom from others, or sermons, or experiences, I learn them. Or, at least, I try to stay pliant and humble. It's wrong for me to strive at changing the world, my husband, or anyone else for my sake or according to my design; my focus should forever be on what God is doing and where God is leading. That changes me! And in giving Him the glory He so richly deserves, His message is spread to others. A lesson, born out of love and gratitude, rooted in the heart of a humble student, and demonstrated in the light of God's glory and grace. May we all seek to surrender ourselves to Him as disciples and servants of the Rabbi King.
"Not many [of you] should become teachers (self-constituted censors and reprovers of others), my brethren, for you know that we [teachers] will be judged by a higher standard and with greater severity [than other people; thus we assume the greater accountability and the more condemnation]."                                                         -- James 3:1 AMPC