Even If He Doesn't

It’s been almost a year since I last posted. I have so much to say, and so much I can’t say. It’s a strange combination that makes blogging difficult.

Ministry—along with life in general—can break your heart. The soft-focus promos for small group curricula don’t typically emphasis this, but some of the people we try to love and lead will reject the gospel. I’ve always known this, but lately I’ve felt the weight of it.

I’ve grieved with parents of prodigals and friends who have had their dreams crushed. I’ve watched helplessly as people made choices that left a trail of devastation in their wake. I’ve seen people push away every offer of help and hope to continue on a needless path of self-destruction. He told us the road was narrow, but I wasn’t prepared for how heart wrenching it would be to watch people I love choose the wide path.

One of my favorite testimonies in the Bible is that of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. When threatened with death in a fiery furnace for not bowing to an idol, they chose to stand firm:

Our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up. (Daniel 3:17–18)

Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego weren't taking a stand because they were certain of a good outcome. In fact, they didn't know until after the furnace doors were opened how it was going to turn out.

Some translations render "but if not" as "but even if he doesn't." I seem to be in a season of "even if he doesn’t." I am not peering into the mouth of the fiery furnace, but I am begging God to do a bunch of things only he can do. These relationships might never be fixed. And even if they aren't, he is still good. Even as the voices asking, “Did God really say?” get louder, his Word is still true.

We can only plant and water, God makes things grow (1 Corinthians 3:6–7). And this reminder of my human inadequacy actually gives me more hope.

Because the heartbreak is only half the story. I’ve also seen restoration where it seemed there was no hope at all. I’ve seen the person who once had no use for the gospel embrace the truth with passion. I’ve seen marriages restored and families reunited. I’ve been reminded again and again that God is often doing his biggest works when things look bleakest.

I know that God could fix these things in a heartbeat. The test comes when he tarries. He really does have the words of eternal life (John 6:68), but he must give us eyes to see. The waiting just reminds us who is responsible for the victories.

Women in Scripture: Hulda

Hulda



   The first time I heard Huldah mentioned, my response was, “Who?” I mean, I’d read the verses that mentioned her, but she didn’t make much of an impression. It was John Piper, in one of the panel discussions at Together for the Gospel 2008 that first brought her to my attention. Piper said:

   My goal for the women of our church is that they become sages. It’s an unusual word; we all tend to know what it means. It’s a Huldah-like…they streamed to Huldah. She was a prophet, but she evidently didn’t do public prophetic ministry, they came to her in quiet. I don’t know the details. 

   So who is this sage-like woman, anyhow? The Bible just gives us a few verses to go on. We actually know more about her husband than we do her. We know she lived in Jerusalem and that she was a prophetess. Her story starts during the reign of King Josiah. While workers were restoring the temple, they found the Book of the Law. When it was read to the king, he was distressed at what he heard.

   “Go, inquire of the LORD for me, and for the people, and for all Judah, concerning the words of this book that has been found. For great is the wrath of the LORD that is kindled against us, because our fathers have not obeyed the words of this book, to do according to all that is written concerning us.” So Hilkiah the priest, and Ahikam, and Achbor, and Shaphan, and Asaiah went to Huldah the prophetess, the wife of Shallum the son of Tikvah, son of Harhas, keeper of the wardrobe (now she lived in Jerusalem in the Second Quarter), and they talked with her. (2 Kings 22:13-14) 

   Huldah’s subsequent message was the same as the rest of the Old Testament prophets: God’s people had ignored his ways, and there would be consequences. But due to Josiah’s desire to seek God, the nation’s destruction would not occur in his lifetime. The office of Old Testament Prophetess is closed to us today. But we can still learn from Huldah and her example.  

   Her reputation preceded her. She was known to them before that day, and she was known to be a woman of God. She was knowledgeable about his Word, and she sought the Lord. I want to be careful not to infer too much, but it appears she was well-known for loving the Lord and walking in his ways.  

   She was asked. Women are not to be busybodies. They are to mind their own affairs. They are to avoid going from house to house spreading rumors (1 Timothy 5:13). I may feel I have all sorts of suggestions for the people around me, but if I’m not in charge, and I’m not asked, in most instances I need to keep my mouth shut. If you’ve ever received advice from someone who didn’t know the whole story, you know how unwelcome and unhelpful it is. Don’t be that woman. I’m not suggesting Huldah’s wisdom was more valuable because it was sought by men. Huldah’s wisdom was valuable because she sought the Lord. As I get older, I have gained a little insight (mostly in the category of what not to do). I also know many women who are far wiser than I am. This is valuable to the church, and there is a purpose for it, but it doesn’t happen overnight. It comes from time spent following God and learning his ways.

____________________________________________

About the Author: Staci Eastin is the author of The Organized Heart (Cruciform Press, 2011). She also blogs at Writing and Living and the group blog Out of the Ordinary. She and her husband Todd have been married since 1994 and are the parents of three children. Staci lives in Southeast Missouri. 

This post originally appeared on September 13, 2013 

On Controversy

About a year ago, my husband and I decided that should the right pharmacist job become available, I should probably take it. Not long after that, the right job opened up. I enrolled my last homeschool student in Christian school, and my family started adjusting to our new normal.

When this occurred, I was entering my 11th year of blogging. That’s a lot of content. In my case, it’s also a lot of public foolishness. I made my personal blog settings private until I had time to think about what content could stay and what needed to go. I also decided to take a break from posting here for a "couple of months." A year later, my blog is still not back up, and this is my first post.

Since one of my freelance jobs had been helping with social media and marketing for Cruciform Press, I went from constant immersion in all things social media to not looking at social media for days at a time. Controversies flared up and died out before I even knew about them.

And then, just as I was starting to contemplate blogging again, the Trinity controversy unfolded. Though this is one of the bigger debates I’ve seen in the Christian blogosphere in the past decade, it’s similar in many ways to many other disagreements I’ve seen.

Our motives are often mixed. When I blogged, I always knew some of my reasons for blogging weren’t very noble. And my reasons for going dark weren’t entirely holy, either. Stirring up controversy leads to blog hits and fame. Criticizing the wrong people might end up costing you links and endorsements. And like Paul, I’m not a good judge of myself (1 Corinthians 4:3–4), let alone everyone else. Some people are keeping quiet because they don’t have anything substantial to add to the noise. Some people are trying to preserve their platform. I have no clue who is who, so it does me no good to speculate.

People are more than their social media personas. It’s no good being well versed in theology if you’re going to be spiteful and mean about it (1 Corinthians 13:2). On the other hand, the most sincere person in the world can be sincerely wrong and lead weaker people astray. That said, our social media posts are a small snapshot of our lives. Just because someone posts a lot about a particular subject, doesn't mean that's all they think and care about. The Bible says we are to grow in love and knowledge (Ephesians 4:15). Since we have no idea what another’s motives are, and since “tone” on social media is usually subjective, we should endeavor to believe the best and focus on the ideas.

Bad theology often leads to bad practice. Notice I said often. Everybody is walking around with some bad theological ideas. We are fallible humans living in a world marred by sin. Things that would seem to be a minor issue to most of us might cause someone else to really get off in the theological weeds. Just because somebody’s a great person doesn’t mean his or her sloppy theology won’t cause someone else to go down a dangerous trail.

It’s easy to become numb to criticism. I’ve seen this happen numerous times. People who are “social-media famous” get picked at a lot. Most of these attacks are so silly they should only be ignored. Then, when a real issue is raised, it’s too easy for those being criticized to dismiss it as more of the same. We all need to do a better job picking our battles.

I still believe that social media has done far more good for me than bad. It’s led to some wonderful, real-life friendships. It’s challenged my thinking for the better on many subjects. It’s helped me keep in touch with family and friends who live far away. And yes, it’s often distracted me when I had more important things to do. But so has HGTV and the bird feeders in my back yard. Pulling back from social media and not blogging for a year didn’t magically improve my self discipline. I just found other stuff to do. We need to figure out how to do Internet debates better. But we also need to do good everywhere we can—whether that be in our virtual lives or our real ones.

The God Who Sees

It’s happened so often that I should be able to see it coming. I was talking with a friend, and let loose with a sarcastic comment. But instead of making her laugh, the comment stung. I had accidentally found a sore spot, and I hurt her.

But there was a further problem: She really didn’t want me to know. I owed her an apology, but apologizing would force her to admit her sensitivity, and that would have made her even more uncomfortable.

I could have forced the issue, but I felt like I’d already done enough. I ended up resorting to a non-apology apology, I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. She gave a flustered denial, Don’t worry about it. I knew what you meant.

Ugh.

Besides wishing that life came with some sort of delete button (or even a flux-capacatior-equipped DeLorean so I could journey back in time and redo these encounters), I’ve spent a lot of time scolding myself for this incident. Why did I say that? What possessed me to think this wisecrack could be anything else but hurtful? And yet, I understand her desire to hide just as well. When I’m feeling vulnerable, I also like to hide. During times when I really should be opening up to receive healing, I retreat. I hide behind a book, or go work in my office to shut myself away from my family and the world.

I usually resort to pop psychology to explain these things, but when it comes down to it, all my issues can be explained in the book of Genesis. I’m a sinner who keeps trying to fix herself. Most of the time I'm either building my own personal Towers of Babel, or covering myself with fig leaves. Look at me! I scream. Just don’t look too closely!

We see this in the story of Hagar, the Egyptian servant of Abraham’s wife Sarah. We don’t know the details of Hagar’s story, but we can assume her servanthood in a foreign country didn’t come about in a happy way. And then she was used by her mistress to bear Abraham’s child. Then she was mistreated because of it. And because Hagar is also a sinner, she tried to capitalize on it as well. So she was sent away with her son, and she is despairing for their lives. Then God intervenes. And she refers to him as “the God who sees.”

The God who sees. The God who sees our strivings and our insecurities. The God who sees our sin clearer than we can, and the futile attempts to cover it over ourselves. The God who sees is the only one who can fix it, and he fixes it by sending his Son, the only solution that can actually work.

The answer is not to keep striving. Nor is the answer to hide in shame. The answer is to rest and trust in the God who sees. Because the one who truly sees is the only one who can offer the true solution.

Christmas Memories and Christmas Wishes

My grandma used to keep a glass container of peppermint sticks on the TV, right under the starburst clock that everybody’s grandma had in the 70s. (Both my grandmas had one.) It may have been a Christmas thing, and it may have been just one Christmas, but in my mind they were there for a very long time.

We always went to this grandma’s house late morning on Christmas day, and one Christmas I had forgotten to eat breakfast in all the excitement. Therefore I got to have a peppermint stick before lunch. To this day when I see peppermint sticks in a jar I think of that Christmas morning.

Memory is a funny thing. I will be driving along and a song will snap be back to 1988. Today the lady in front of me in the checkout lane was wearing the perfume of a college friend. The scent of a certain kind of air freshener reminds me of my sophomore year dorm room, and the smell of mildew reminds me of the dorm laundry room.

We attach things to our memories. Some are pleasant, and some are not. Some take us back to times of sadness, and some times of happiness.

When it comes to Christmas, I tend to agree with Charles Spurgeon: “I hold it to be one of the greatest absurdities under heaven to think that there is any religion in keeping Christmas-day. There are no probabilities whatever that our Savior Jesus Christ was born on that day…” But, like Spurgeon, I think celebrating it is a good thing: “Since it is lawful, and even laudable, to meditate upon the incarnation of the Lord upon any day in the year, it cannot be in the power of other men’s superstitions to render such a meditation improper for to-day.”

For a little while, people in the Western world have to give at least a fleeting thought to what we’re all doing. Society is doing its level best to separate our Christmas celebrations from the birth of Christ, but they haven’t managed to sever them completely.

Sometimes all the preparation makes me tired. I once commented to my daughter that when you really think about it, the idea of putting a lighted tree in your living room is kind of bizarre (I may have stolen some of her joy with that remark). But I hope that this season causes people to think, just for a second, about what all the fuss is about. I hope that in the midst of Santa and elves and reindeer, in the frantic purchasing of gifts, that they ponder what it all really means. I hope that somewhere in their minds, the real story of the baby in the manger is there and they think about it. And I hope that if they don’t know, they ask someone, and I hope that they get the right answer.

This post was adapted from a post that appeared on my personal blog.

Thankful for...lots of things

We’ve spent the month here talking about thanksgiving. I missed my turn a couple of weeks ago, and it’s only been in the past couple of days that I’ve had a chance to read everyone else’s posts.

You see, a couple of weeks ago I was awakened by an early morning phone call. It was not good news, as early morning phone calls seldom are. There was a medical emergency in my extended family. My post might not be as polished as the others, but I have a long list of things to be thankful for.

I am thankful for modern medicine. What would have been a grave situation a few decades ago can now be fixed with surgery.

I am thankful for air travel, so that my sister who lives far away can decide at 9 o’clock in the morning that she wants to come, and then be there by suppertime.

I am thankful for the body of Christ. I have a lot of balls in the air right now—family, work, school, church, blog—and I walked away from all of them for a few days. My husband was out of town that week, so I needed more help than usual. Friends took care of my kids for me. People at church picked up my slack. Employers, instructors, and blog friends gave me grace.

Everything is good now. Life is back to normal. And I am looking forward to the Thanksgiving holiday.

'Tis the Season

A couple of years ago, I turned forty. There are a lot of things we could discuss about the forties in general, but let’s talk about the mood swings, shall we? Lately I am experiencing emotions that have no basis in reality.

All three of my sisters are around a decade older than I am, so they reached this stage of life first. Several years ago, one of them said to me, “PMS is for sissies. I have full-on mood swings.” Yes and amen. I spent most of my Junior High years feeling like I could burst into tears at any moment, and I’m right back there again.

First I need to put my emotions in the proper perspective. In the book The Cry of the Soul: How Our Emotions Reveal Our Deepest Questions About God, authors Allender and Longman say, "Our emotions connect our inner world to the ups and downs of life.” For me, I have to think about specific ways in which my “inner world” is mistaken.

Of course, there may be medical things to be done. Address them with you health care provider. God in his common grace has provided medical help for some of this, but that’s another post for another type of blog. For now, I need to focus on what I can fix here and now.

Physical: I didn’t sleep well last night. As anyone who has ever dealt with an overtired toddler knows, it’s harder to maintain self control when you’re sleepy. I haven’t thrown a kicking, screaming fit (yet), but I tend to get overwhelmed more easily on these days. This time there wasn’t a particular cause for my sleeplessness. Other times it’s circumstantial: one child worked late, then another had to be somewhere exceptionally early. But I can also do more to help this. I’ve also noticed if I eat a lot of junk food, I feel awful the next day. I can’t bounce back from these things like I could when I was 25. My lack of self control has always been a bad thing, but now it has more obvious consequences.

Environment: The sun doesn’t rise until noon this time of year. (Not really. That’s only true where Rebecca lives. It’s more like 7:15 here. But still.) It’s hard for me to get going in the dark. The best solution, however, is not sitting around thinking ill thoughts about Benjamin Franklin and his invention of Daylight Savings Time, but turning on the lights and emptying the dishwasher. Getting out of my pajamas is a good idea, too. Complaining has always been one of my besetting sins. Now, rather than simply making me unpleasant to others, it makes me unpleasant to myself.

Fear: Things are changing fast, and change is scary. My oldest will be leaving home soon, and the other two are right behind him. Our kids are “good” kids. (In the traditional sense of the word. I realize, in a theological, Romans 3:23 way, that we’re all sinners.) But they have their own ideas and will make their own mistakes. Some things they will have to learn for themselves (as their parents did). But I am surely wrong about some things, too. I don’t always know what’s best, and only God can sustain and protect them. This has always been the case, it was just easier to fool myself into thinking I was in control when they were little.

In light of that, I have to start talking to myself, rather than listening to my feelings. As Martyn Lloyd-Jones says,

The main art in the matter of spiritual living is to know how to handle yourself. You have to take yourself in hand, you have to address yourself, preach to yourself, question yourself. You must say to your soul: ‘Why art thou cast down’–what business have you to be disquieted? You must turn on yourself, upbraid yourself, condemn yourself, exhort yourself, and say to yourself: ‘Hope thou in God’–instead of muttering in this depressed, unhappy way. And then you must go on to remind yourself of God, Who God is, and what God is and what God has done, and what God has pledged Himself to do. Then having done that, end on this great note: defy yourself, and defy other people, and defy the devil and the whole world, and say with this man: ‘I shall yet praise Him for the help of His countenance, who is also the health of my countenance and my God’.

So today, I turn my thoughts to truth:

How I feel doesn’t necessarily reflect reality.

This too shall pass.

This world is not my home. Part of my unease is run-of-the-mill longing for heaven.

God is in control, as he always has been.

God has sustained me in the past. He will sustain me in the future.

"He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32).

______________________

[1] Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Spiritual Depression: Its Causes and Cure, page 21.

Book Review: Captivating

This review originally appeared on my personal blog.

Captivating: Unveiling the Mystery of a Woman’s Soul by John and Stasi Eldredge has been one of the most popular books in the Christian market over the last decade. Its 2005 release has led to the publication of journals, Bible studies, gift books, and an updated edition. Ideas put forth in this book have found their way into a lot of Christian women’s books, even from authors who have a reputation for being biblical and orthodox.

This is not a comprehensive review. I found many things in this book that are unbiblical, but I’m not going to pull it apart point by point. I am going to focus on two things: what makes the book insightful (and therefore popular), and the book’s most glaring error (which in many ways leads to all its other errors).

What it Got Right

There’s a reason why this book is so popular, and there’s a reason why so many women find it helpful. The authors have a good handle on what makes women tick. Women are relational. In fact, we obsess over our relationships in ways men often don’t understand. This goes back to the curse found in Genesis 3:16. Just as men tend to find their worth and identity in their work (Genesis 3:17-19), women tend to find their worth and identity in relationships. But since we live in a world marred by sin, these things don’t bring the peace that we think they should.

According to the Eldredges, when a woman has been hurt in relationships, she tends to respond in two different ways. She either becomes controlling or desolate. These titles are self-explanatory, and we all know women who fall in these categories. The controlling woman strives to take matters into her own hands, while the desolate woman continues to put herself at the mercy of people who treat her badly.

This is one of the more insightful explanations of the connection between the Fall and women’s behavior that I’ve read. Since understanding why we do what we do is enlightening (especially for women who are well-grounded in Scripture otherwise), I understand why so many women find this book helpful.

Now, even with that, there are problems with this portion of the book. They put a lot of blame for a woman’s troubles on things that happened in her childhood. I’m not saying a woman (or anyone) should be made to feel that abuse is her fault, so please don’t misunderstand me on that. But although they devote plenty of space to the ways others sin against us, they rarely mention how we sin against God.

They also state that Satan has a special hatred for women and attacks her more forcefully. I don’t know of any place in Scripture that confirms this. Yes, Satan is our enemy and accuser, but we sin when we give way to our own evil desires (James 1:14).

The Most Glaring Error

Out of all the errors of the book, the most glaring one is its insufficient view of God. God is portrayed throughout the book as “yearning for us,” and several places state that we as women can “minister to God.” In one section, they even claim that there is “in God’s heart a place that you alone can fill.” (Location 1323, Kindle edition)

This is a direct contradiction to the Scriptural teaching of God’s self-sufficiency (or, as Arthur Pink says in his book The Attributes of God, God’s Solitariness). This is not some obscure, hidden attribute, but something taught plainly in Scripture.

The God who made the world and everything in it, being Lord of heaven and earth, does not live in temples made by man, nor is he served by human hands, as though he needed anything, since he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything (Acts 17:24–25).

And also:

Oh, the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God!
How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways!
“For who has known the mind of the Lord,
or who has been his counselor?”
Or who has given a gift to him
 that he might be repaid?”
For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen (Romans 11:33-36).

To quote Pink:

God was under no constraint, no obligation, no necessity to create. That he chose to do so was purely a sovereign act on his part, caused by nothing outside himself, determined by nothing but his own mere good pleasure; for he “worketh all things after the counsel of his own will” (Ephesians 1:11). That he did create was simply for his manifestative glory.

I’m not being nitpicky by objecting to this. With such a low view of God, they cannot point women to a higher love and devotion. If there is something in us that can “minister to” or “fill” God, that would mean that God is somehow lacking and therefore not perfect. Only a perfect God deserves our trust and worship. All of God’s divine attributes hang together; if we lose one, we lose them all.

Women’s desire for love and beauty is part of what makes us God’s image bearers. (The Eldredges refer to this as our desire to be romanced, to take part in a grand adventure, and to uncover beauty.) Like all good things, though, the human tendency is to turn them into ultimate things. For many women, the good desire for love and beauty is an idol. Instead of showing us how these earthly desires are often a poor reflection of what we can only find in our relationship with Christ, they instead bring Jesus down to the level of some ideal, earthly boyfriend.

Like I said earlier, many women claim this book has helped them. I’m sure some of them have managed to discard the errors and draw help from the insights. But I fear that many women have been soothed into thinking their idolatrous earthly longings are holy. As heartbreaking as it is when people reject the true God, it’s perhaps a greater tragedy when they unwittingly put their trust in a false one.

*This review is based on the Kindle version of the original 2005 edition.

We Are Not Insignifcant

I've been thinking a lot about how the same fear can cause seemingly opposite responses in different individuals. Perfectionism, for instance, can cause some people to work themselves into a frenzy and others to procrastinate.

And though I do not recommend the book, one of the more interesting insights from the book Captivating was the observation that women who have been hurt in relationships often respond in one of two ways: by either becoming controlling or desolate.

The cure for these things is not a higher view of ourselves, but a higher view of God. I like how Hannah Anderson unpacks this in her book Made for More: An Invitation to Live in God's Image. In this section, Hannah is talking about feelings of insignificance. But isn't that the root of a lot of our negative emotions? I believe it is.

The fear that our lives lack significance, that we are merely specks of dust floating in the massive cosmos, can easily spark the search for identity. When you consider the enormity of the universe, when you realize that Earth itself comprises only an infinitesimal part of it, and when you recognize that you are only one out of the billions of people who have lived, it's easy to feel small. Add to this the fact that we must devote vast amounts of time on the basics of daily life (I once calculated that in my lifetime I will prepare nearly 50,000 meals for my family), and it's a wonder we all don't run off to exotic places in search of ourselves!

This fear that we simply trudge through our allotted days without ever making a difference drives some women on a never-ending pursuit of success and perfection. From the fast-paced executive always scrambling for the next deal to the tiger mom bent on shaping her child into a future Supreme Court justice, we are hounded by the thought that our existence will somehow e worthless unless we achieve quantifiable success. For others, this same fear causes them to retreat into their own zone of comfort and hide from the greater world, content to be a big fish in a small pond if it means avoiding the constant reminders of their limitations and irrelevance.

And yet the deeper magic is that no matter how small we may feel—no matter how small we actually may be—we are not insignificant. We are not lost in the grand cosmos. We do matter. But it's not because of anything we've done; it's because of something God did back at the beginning. Because back when God created all this beauty, all this life, all this splendor, He capped it off with one final masterpiece—one that He did not leave to words alone. No, for this final masterpiece, He stooped down and left His own fingerprints in the dust.

And that final masterpiece was us.[1]

____________________________

[1]Hannah Anderson, Made for More: An Invitation to Live in God’s Image (Chicago: Moody, 2014), 31.

(In case you missed it, Kim reviewed this book a few months back.)

Foolish Words

Several years ago, I was watching my nephew’s little league game. The father of one of the boys on the opposing team was being obnoxious, and he got louder and ruder as the game wore on.

He also happened to be wearing a fanny pack. I have nothing against fanny packs; I’ve worn them myself a time or two. But I have a lot against obnoxious parents at little league games. I began to make cracks to the person next to me about “the man with the purse.” I’m not sure if my seat mate was amused by my comments, but I was.

Near the end of the game, a man a couple of seats away from me stood up. And there, around his waist, was a fanny pack. I knew this man, and I liked him. He had been within earshot of me the entire game, and had heard every one of my comments about men who wear accessories just like his.

I think this man was more amused at the situation than anything. We had several interactions in coming years, and he didn’t seem to hold it against me. Since he is no longer living, I know he’s not worried about it today. But I am still blushing as I recount this story.

I wish I could say this type of thing was an isolated incident, that I had to dig deep in the recesses of my memory to think of a time I had said something to embarrass myself. But that’s not the case. The well of stories to draw from is woefully deep, and many of them come to mind often. Just the other day I was on a walk, and the memory of something mortifying I had said a few years ago nearly stopped me in my tracks.

I struggle with what to do with these memories. Why do I seem to be so plagued with them? Is it wrong to remember them? To be so embarrassed by them?

In her book Grace Is Free, Marci Preheim refers to this phenomenon as “day-after-girls-night-out regret.” That feeling you have after time with friends that you’ve said too much.

Whether we talk too much or quietly hide ourselves in the crowd, the root of our turmoil is the same. We desire to be perceived a certain way. Our sin doesn’t bother us when it remains hidden, but when everyone sees it, we fret, withdraw, and justify ourselves.

We like to think these things are embarrassing because they are so uncharacteristic of us, but in reality, they reveal sides of us that we would prefer to keep hidden. I am more apt to embarrass myself when I’m trying too hard to be funny or clever, or trying to draw attention to myself. I don’t usually put my foot in my mouth when I’m trying to build others up. If I spend my time listening to other people, rather than thinking of the next thing to say, things go better.

I wish I had a helpful hint, or three steps to banish careless words from your conversation. Many people probably don’t need as much help as me. But I don’t have them. My foolish words will be a problem of mine as long as I am still a fool, and I am afraid that will be a very long time.

And when the foolish words come, as they do far too often, I remind myself what they are. The words themselves are not the problem, they are instead a symptom of a far larger problem: my sinful nature. I am a sinner in need of great grace. The fact that I embarrass myself from time to time is actually the least of the problem. But all that has been paid on the cross.

Someday, my faith will become sight. I will be free from the effects of sin, and I will no longer put my foot in my mouth. Will I even notice? Probably not. I will finally be, for the first time, not focused enough on myself to think about it.

The Ways We're the Same (Or, What Not to Do in an Awkward Social Situation)

A while back I went to a meeting. A woman I had never seen before was standing alone, so I went and introduced myself. After we had chatted a bit, she confessed that she was worried about the meeting, because it was clear that the other women there were “not her type.” She then went on to list the reasons why she was different—and superior—to the other women present.

The problem? Those women were my friends. She didn’t know that, of course. But because one of them was blessed with good looks and a bubbly personality, and another was uncharacteristically preoccupied with her phone—for a very good reason—the woman had made her judgment and pronounced them inferior.

I wish I could say I had words of peace and reconciliation. I wish I could say I looked beyond the woman’s obvious hurt and fear and sought to build a bridge. But no. As soon as someone else started talking to her, I hastily retreated to the alleged bubbleheads across the room. Even worse, I was still distracted when the meeting began. I kept imagining what I could say to make her see how wrong she had been.

It was several hours before I realized that I was just as guilty as she. Yes, she had wrongly judged my friends—but I in turn had wrongly judged her. She didn’t form those opinions in a vacuum. I could have used the time discovering what we had in common, rather than dwelling on the ways I thought she was wrong.

We've All Been Hurt Before

We can all remember a time when we were excluded and rejected. For some the wounds came early on. For others the wounds are fresh. Maybe it’s a mixture of old and new scars, but we all have them. We are all sinners, and we’ve all been sinned against. No one will leave this world without a few bruises.

We All Want to Be Understood

Behind the woman’s insistence that she was different was the desire to be understood. She wanted me to see that her priorities were a conscious choice. They were also more similar to my friends’ choices than she realized, but she didn’t know that. I’m sure she's encountered people who don’t know what to make of her. She wanted me to know that she was basically good with who she was, even if she was sometimes excluded because of it.

We All Are Prideful

The woman’s pride compelled her to judge others. My pride caused me to retreat in hurt and anger—and do a little judging of my own. It caused me to sit and fume rather than reach out.

We All Need Jesus

I have no hope apart from God’s grace. I am also pretty hopeless without him.

Paul was probably the most unlikely person to take the gospel to the Gentiles, but God used him mightily. For one thing, he was willing to be all things to all people.

For though I am free from all, I have made myself a servant to all, that I might win more of them. To the Jews I became as a Jew, in order to win Jews. To those under the law I became as one under the law (though not being myself under the law) that I might win those under the law. To those outside the law I became as one outside the law (not being outside the law of God but under the law of Christ) that I might win those outside the law. To the weak I became weak, that I might win the weak. I have become all things to all people, that by all means I might save some. I do it all for the sake of the gospel, that I may share with them in its blessings (1 Corinthians 9:19–23).

And then there’s me, who was unwilling to endure an awkward social situation.

I dropped the ball that day. I’m sure to do it again. I missed a chance to be the hands and feet of Jesus. But in spite of my foibles and mistakes, God still loves me, and his grace covers me.

I like to believe I’m beyond all that high school stuff, but that incident reminded me how quickly I can retreat when things get uncomfortable. I’m not as selfless and fearless as I think I am. I need God’s grace and mercy every second of the day.

A Closed Door

A while back, I attempted something, but the proverbial door was shut. I don’t mean it closed with a gentle click. I mean it slammed so hard the walls rattled. It’s purported that in times like this God opens windows, but they appear to be painted shut.

As I reflected on it, a phrase from days gone by came to mind. Did I “get ahead of God”?

To be fair, some people use that phrase to communicate biblical ideas. They simply mean we act out of fear rather than faith (Romans 14:23b), in a futile attempt to somehow manipulate God. But for me, that phrase carries a lot of baggage that is best left behind.

Thanks to some of the false teachers who clog Christian radio, I heard a lot of bad teaching as a young adult. And a lot of those teachers talked a lot about discerning God’s will. They said I was supposed to be looking for signs and impressions. Not about sin (which is always wrong), but about morally neutral things. God had a plan, and I needed to figure it out, otherwise I would apparently be outside his will. Something as simple as failing to discern where one should go on vacation could apparently set off a myriad of missed connections, and God would be wringing his hands, thinking of all the good things he had in store for me that I missed, all because I misread the signs.

This is dangerous thinking. Just like the prosperity preacher who claims God rewards good deeds with wealth, this idea implies that God rewards good “sign reading” with easy circumstances. Did you go to the beach when God wanted you to go to the mountains? Well then, expect to be rained on every day and sprain your ankle on your way back to the condo.

The Bible teaches otherwise. John 9:1–3, Genesis 37–50, and the book of Job (not to mention the cross) all indicate that God is working even when things look quite grim from here.

I appreciate John MacArthur’s booklet Found: God’s Will  [1]. God’s will is actually simple. He wants us to be saved, Spirit-filled, sanctified, submissive, and suffering [2]. Yes, that’s right, suffering. That doesn’t mean you’re more holy if you never break a smile. But in a world hostile to the message of the gospel (1Corinthians 1:18), we will face opposition (1 Peter 3:13–18).

But if you're doing all these things? If you're saved, following God, and submissive to those placed over you?

If those five elements of God’s will are operating in your life, who is running your wants? God is! The psalmist said, “Delight yourself in the LORD; and He will give you the desires of your heart” (Psalm 37:4). God does not say He will fulfill all the desires there! If you are living a godly life, He will give you the right desires. [3]

It’s good to ask God for the things we think we need, but we need to remember that what he eventually gives us is what we need. I tried something, but it didn’t work out. It was not sinful—it was a good thing. And for now, the door is closed. If it never comes to pass, it won’t be because I got in the way of God’s plans. He just has a different plan for me.

---

[1] Another book that covers similar ground is Just Do Something: A Liberating Approach to Finding God’s Will by Kevin DeYoung.

[2] John MacArthur, Found: God’s Will (Colorado Springs, CO: David C Cook), 68.

[3] Ibid, 68.

Review and Giveaway! Picture Perfect: When Life Doesn't Line Up

Perfectionism. It's a loaded word. We largely think of it as a positive thing. Who doesn't want to do all things well? But perfectionism has a dark side. It can become a self-imposed prison where we don't feel like we ever live up to our own expectations. Sometimes, we worry that our imperfections make us unloveable to God.

Even if we know that God loves us, imperfect as we may be, some verses in the Bible can be troubling. 1 Peter 1:16 says "You shall be holy, for I am holy." And also Matthew 5:48 "You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly father is perfect." How should we read those verses in light of biblical truth that we are all sinners (Romans 3:10, Romans 3:23)? Amy Baker wanted to tackle this apparent disconnect in her book Picture Perfect: When Life Doesn't Line Up.

The book is divided into three sections. In the first part, Baker tells the stories of several perfectionists. Since most of us associate perfectionism with people who alphabetize their pantries and straighten the fringes of their throw rugs with a ruler, it's important to see that perfectionism can manifest itself in many different ways. Perfectionism causes some to procrastinate. Others are downright paralyzed from any action. Or they may be angry and controlling. Most readers will find something they can identify with in at least one of these stories. Even if you've never made a bed with hospital corners, you probably have one area where you strive for success at all costs.

The second section reminds us that because of Christ, it is finished. Yes, Jesus death and resurrection is our only hope of escaping God's wrath, but it also saves of from finding our worth in earthly things. We must "preach the gospel to ourselves every day." If we're really doing this, every area of our lives will be changed. That doesn't mean our lives will be easy, but we can rest from striving to justify ourselves by what we do.

Baker does this by focusing on the Sermon on the Mount, specifically Jesus words to "be perfect as our heavenly Father is perfect." I enjoyed this focus on Christ's perfection—his finished work that frees us. Perfection is, at its root "a heart that fears suffering"(page 70). But when we trust in Christ, we have nothing to fear.

We begin to see perfection both as a gift that Christ has purchased for us and as a process of growing in Christlikeness. Once a source of stress or despair, perfection becomes a wonderful goal. Because of the gift we've received, we want to live a life of love (Ephesians 5:2) because that's what our Savior did (page 68).

The third section focuses on application. Baker zeroes in on things perfectionists tend to struggle with, such as fear, pride, shame, and busyness.

This is an important subject, and I believe it's something we need to be addressing more often. Sometimes, though, we go too far. In our effort to communicate the sin of perfectionism, we might inadvertently leave people with the message to quit trying. This is not, of course, the purpose of God's grace (Romans 6:1). It's a fine line to walk, but Baker does it well. We should still work as if to God (Colossians 3:32), but not as a way to secure what Christ has already secured for us.

I appreciate this book. I recommend it to anyone who struggles with perfectionism. And even if you don't think you struggle with perfectionism, this book will probably reveal to you ways that you do.

Thanks to the generosity of New Growth Press, I have an extra copy to give away. Please enter your name and email in the form below. I promise your email will remain private and we won't spam you. The winner will be drawn on Thursday, July 17, and the winner will be notified by email.



I received a review copy of this book from the publisher. This review reflects my honest opinion.

Still the Same

I'm getting older. I'll spare you the list of the ways I am aging. It's just a reality. When I go places with my adult-size children, no one thinks we're siblings. I’m not even mistaken for a cool young aunt.

Nobody ever told me that I would still feel the same at 42 as I did at 18. Or perhaps they did and I wasn’t listening. Or maybe it’s just me. The physical changes greet me each time I look in the mirror, but I don’t feel different on the inside. I’m still shy. I’m horrible at small talk. I will go to ridiculous lengths to avoid a simple phone call. Shouldn’t I be different? Full of wisdom or something?

It’s easy to get bogged down in the bad ways I’m the same—the same faults and the same bad habits. Have I learned anything at all?

I’ve learned that time goes quickly. It frustrated me to hear this when my kids are little. Some days—like the days when all three were sick—seemed to drag. I’m now astonished, though, at how old my kids are. This makes me slightly better at treasuring the time with them.

I’ve learned that most of my worries were fruitless. I’ve done more than my fair share of worrying, and most of what I worried about never came to pass. And anything that did come to pass was not made easier due to prior worrying.

I’ve learned that everything looks better after a full nights sleep. Or a full stomach. In other words, my physical state often influences my emotions. I’ve always known this about toddlers, but it’s ridiculous how long it took me to realize it also applied to me. That problem that seems hopeless at midnight is not quite so daunting in the light of day.

I used to think that people woke up one day full of all the knowledge they needed to be adults. Now I know that it’s a gradual process. Time goes fast, but people change slowly.

Things to Guard Against in the Middle Years

I wise woman I knew used to say, “The further I go, the less I know.” That’s how I feel right now. I’m acutely aware of just how much I have to learn, so I don’t feel ready to offer advice.

But I do know that we all struggle. Maybe not in exactly the same way, but we usually have more in common than we realize. I’ve noticed some tendencies in myself that I need to guard against. Maybe one or two of them will be familiar to you.

Feeling Useless

I used to be an expert on lots of things. Not anymore. I’ve made enough mistakes to see that I am not as smart as I thought I was, and I still have much to learn.

It’s tempting to use that as an excuse not to reach out. Sometimes it’s shame. Sometimes it’s pride (because I’d rather not have to tell you mistakes I’ve made). Sometimes it’s self protection (because I don’t want to be ignored in the way I use to ignore older women).

We’ve actually got plenty of Scripture that tells us just the opposite. Titus 2:3-5, 2 Corinthians 1:4, and Romans 8:28 don’t let us off the hook. These life experiences—even our mistakes—have a purpose. We can use them to encourage others in the body of Christ.

Being Unteachable

It’s already happened a few times, and it’s just going to get worse. Some young adult, someone so young that they could be my child, is standing before me in a teaching capacity. What can I possibly learn from them?

As it turns out, quite a bit. Anybody who is faithfully teaching the Bible is going to have something to say to all ages. And because we’ve lived different lives and experienced different joys and heartaches, we all have fresh perspectives. If I dismiss someone just because they’re too young, I miss out on an opportunity to learn, and the chance to encourage them.

Being Cynical

Scripture tells us that all of us our born sinners. If you’ve lived to middle age, you’ve seen it firsthand. People do bad things. People hurt us. People are slow to change.

Believers should know better than anyone how drastically the Holy Spirit can change a person. For us to then adopt the attitude that people never change besmirches the gospel.

I don’t think I’ve put it too strongly. I get it. Life can weary us. But Philippians 1:6 promises that God finishes what he starts. That goes not only for us, but for other Christians too. I could be quite foolish when I was young. (Who am I kidding? I can be foolish now.) God will do his work in others, just as he did in me.

What about you? What tendencies are you trying to guard against in your life?

It's Not About Me

Although I cooked a lot for Todd’s single friends when we were first married, hospitality isn’t something I’ve done enough of since my kids were born. I’m being stretched in this area, from the teen boys that wander in with my son to the groups that now meet in our home. Many times we’re just getting started when I realize I have a cobweb in the corner or dog nose prints on my windows. I have to swallow my pride and soldier on. I am happy to report that the sky has not fallen, nor has anyone mocked me for my imperfect housekeeping skills. It also seems that just when I get comfortable, something comes up that stretches me more.

That's how it goes when you serve. I no longer freak out about nursery duty, mostly because I’ve had some of the grossest experiences of my life there and lived to tell about it. The week of children’s camp that had me hyperventilating in the days leading up to it turned out to be fun. And the third year of children’s camp, when it was 108 in the shade and kids were wilting from the heat, well, we all got through that too.

It makes me nervous when we start surmising apart from Scripture on why God does this to us. I’ve heard many sentences that start with “I think God does this because…” that ended up making us the center of things and not him. It also sounds ridiculous to be discussing banal things like nursery duty and Junior High Sunday School when Christians are being martyred in China and missionaries are risking everything to bring the gospel to closed countries.

But when I read Ephesians 3, I’m reminded that this has always been God’s way. Paul’s writing from prison, and he’s assuring the Ephesians that it’s okay, that God’s got it all covered. The same God that gave him the grace to bring the gospel to the gentiles will enable him in his imprisonment and them as a church. He reminds them (and us) that God’s love is greater and deeper and more wonderful than we can ever imagine, so regardless of what they’re up against he’s using that to fulfill his purposes. He’s building his church and enabling his people, and through the church his wisdom is made known to a degree that even the angels are amazed at the sight.

Americans are accused of making church too complicated, and I agree that there’s truth in this. Christians worshipping in underground churches aren’t arguing over what color to paint the sanctuary. But even the simplest meeting requires acts of service. Someone has to sweep the dirt floor of the hut, bake the communion bread, and make sure there are candles to light the room after dark.

God is there where Christians gather in secret for fear of their lives. He’s also there when the nursery staff realizes they’re dealing with a particularly nasty case of rotavirus, and with the Sunday School teacher when the Junior Highers just sit with their arms crossed, scowling at the floor. He’s there when the speaker at the women’s retreat realizes that she’s not only lost her train of thought, she’s lost her place in her notes as well.

Anyone who’s been there comes out of it feeling that he or she knows God just a little bit better, but we’re mistaken when we think it ends with what we’ve learned. It’s about a Holy God, using sinful people to do a thousand little things, but letting those little things add up to a giant demonstration of his wisdom that’s so glorious even the angels are compelled respond with praise that echoes through the universe.

If I try to make that just about me, I make far too little of God.



This is an edited version of a post from my personal blog.

Where We Put Our Hope

A lot of people I love are hurting right now. Since they’re not my stories, they’re not the kind of thing I can write about. If I were to write about any of them in the most general terms, though, several people would think I was writing about them.

I find myself saying on their behalf, “How long, oh Lord?” (Psalm 13) So many people seem to be in a season of suffering, where the trials come in wave after wave.

John 9:1–3 shows that it’s unwise to speculate why God allows suffering to come into the lives of his children. Joseph languished for years in an Egyptian prison. Paul was beaten and hauled off to jail nearly every place he went. And the ultimate example is Christ on the Cross. In other words, God is often doing his greatest work when things look hopeless.

We put our hope in so many different things. Money, career, marriage, family. All of them good things, but all of them capable of breaking our hearts. And as my friend Gloria Furman reminded me the other day—on Twitter of all places—we don’t have time for fake hope. Only one foundation is strong enough to bear our weight, and we need to be standing on it when the storms come.

Preserve me, O God, for in you I take refuge.
I say to the Lord, “You are my Lord;
I have no good apart from you.”
As for the saints in the land, they are the excellent ones,
in whom is all my delight.
The sorrows of those who run after another god shall multiply;
their drink offerings of blood I will not pour out
or take their names on my lips.
The Lord is my chosen portion and my cup;
you hold my lot.
The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places;
indeed, I have a beautiful inheritance.
I bless the Lord who gives me counsel;
in the night also my heart instructs me.
I have set the Lord always before me;
because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.
Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices;
my flesh also dwells secure.
For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
or let your holy one see corruption.
You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

Psalm 16

In the Heat of the Moment

It was one of those days, and it was a busy one. For the schedule to work, we would have to operate like a well-oiled machine. My family, however, consists of real humans, not machine parts. They also seemed to have adopted the motto “Why think for yourself when you can just ask Mom?” and I was annoyed by the constant questions. To top it all off, a misunderstanding with an acquaintance caused my kid to miss out on something fun.

By the end of the day I was mad. But there was nobody to be mad at. The evening’s schedule was confusing. My acquaintance had been trying to help. Nothing could be done about any of the evening’s foibles. And the kid who missed out on the fun event really wasn’t that torn up about it. And though I knew I was being irrational, that just annoyed me even more.

A couple of hours later the real reason for my mood became clear: migraine. My migraines are usually mild enough that I can take medication and carry on as normal, but this time I was down for the count. All I could do was lie still and wait for the pain and nausea to pass.

The interesting thing about migraine is that the process begins before the sufferer feels it. Sometimes I have an aura an hour or so before it hits. Sometimes I notice that I stumble over words a lot in the hours leading up to it. Some people yawn a lot. And, like what happened to me that night, some people become easily agitated.

After the migraine fog lifted, I thought back to the previous day. My irritation, which had felt quite justified at the time, seemed ridiculous. I was thankful that circumstances kept me from expressing my frustration, because now the situation then seemed incredibly petty.

Anybody who has spent time with a tired or hungry toddler understands that our physical bodies affect our emotions. But in the heat of the moment we often don’t realize it. As a teenager I felt very weepy one week of the month. Now? I either wonder why everyone has to keep breathing so loud, or I am convinced that something horrible will happen and it will all be my fault.

As my middle-age hormones continue to mess with my mind, I find I have to be careful to focus on the truth rather my feelings. But what can we tell ourselves when our feelings are getting the upper hand? What is the truth?

Our emotions are God-given, but they are also fallen

As Allender and Longman say in their book Cry of the Soul, “Our emotions connect our inner world to the ups and downs of life.” Just because they aren’t always accurate, doesn’t mean they should always be ignored. The joy and delight we feel on earth is a foretaste of the greater joy of heaven. And sometimes sadness and anger are legitimate reactions to the trouble of the world. It is appropriate to mourn when we encounter evil.

Taking care of my physical body helps

In 1 Kings 19, Elijah is fleeing from Jezebel. In his weariness and fear, he sits down under a tree and wishes for death. Then he sleeps, and after he sleeps, the Lord sends him food. I think it’s interesting that part of God’s help involved meeting his physical needs.

I’m not 25 anymore. Although it’s important to care for our bodies at all ages, I’m more sensitive to it now. I fail a lot in this area, but when I take the time to eat properly, rest, and exercise, I can handle life much better.

Just because I feel it, doesn’t mean I need to express it

Proverbs 29: 11 is a verse I find myself going to a lot these days: “A fool gives full vent to his spirit, but a wise man quietly holds it back.” My emotions often come on like a firestorm. Even though I may feel very strongly about something, that’s usually not the best time for me to speak. I can’t take back angry words spoken in the heat of the moment. It’s better if I take some time to think things through.

Keep doing what needs to be done

Some people like to keep moving when they’re upset. I prefer to curl up in a ball and whimper. But life doesn’t stop just because I’ve decided to host a private pity party. Pushing through with the daily tasks of life often makes me feel better. Even if it doesn’t, at least I’m not behind when I emerge from the funk.

Be thankful for God’s grace

I have always been an impulsive, emotional person. But God is refining me. I sometimes have to pray through gritted teeth, but he is faithful to give me the strength I need when I ask for it.

Sadly, I don’t always remember to do this. In the days since I began this post, I’ve had to apologize to someone for angry, hurtful words I said, words that she did not deserve. I’m embarrassed about what I said. I can’t take the words back. All I can do is point to the perfect Savior. He lived the life I should have lived and died the death I should have died. Through him, all my sins are forgiven. Even the hasty, hurtful words I sometimes speak.

Help for the Path

Are we in great trouble? There is a promise that works for our good, "I will be with him in trouble" (Psalm 91:15). God does not bring His people into troubles, and leave them there. He will stand by them; He will hold their heads and hearts when they are fainting. And there is another promise, "He is their strength in the time of trouble" (Psalm 37:39). "Oh," says the soul, "I shall faint in the day of trial." But God will be the strength of our hearts; He will join His forces with us. Either He will make His hand lighter, or our faith stronger. [1]

Or, as Corrie Ten Boom said, "If God sends us on strong paths, we are provided strong shoes."

Part of the problem with trials is the uncertainty of it all. We can't fathom how it's going to work out, and we don't believe we have the strength to see it through. Setting out into the unknown is terrifying—we want to know the way. And that's what a trial is, for the most part: venturing out in the unknown.

But like Watson said, God does not bring us into it to leave us there. He will be our guide. We might not be able to see the way, but he knows the way, and he will not abandon us. He will bring us through. Often in ways we don't expect, and often not the way we would choose, but always in the best way for us.

[1] Thomas Watson, All Things for Good, page 16.

When Life Leaves You Reeling

I was talking with a friend about various trials we sometimes encounter. “It’s the surprises that get me,” she said. “The things that come up when you assumed everything was fine, only to realize they weren’t.” I knew exactly what she meant. Such trials feel like a punch in the stomach, and I’m often sent reeling and gasping for breath.

You think things are fine at work, only to learn your boss had been unhappy with you for quite some time. You think things are good with your marriage, but suddenly your spouse tells you he’s leaving. You assume your kids are doing well, and then you realize that serious problems had been simmering below the surface. And then, one day, it all falls apart, and you are left to pick up the pieces.

Sometimes we realize we weren’t really innocent bystanders. Perhaps we had been too complacent, too careless, and taken too many things for granted. Perhaps we knew things weren’t quite right, but we didn’t want to make the changes we knew needed to be made. But whether we could have prevented the disaster or not, we have to deal with the fallout as it is.

I’ve endured several of these surprise trials, and they still leave me reeling. I struggle with anger and despair. A complacent person by nature, I often have to repent of my own laziness and deliberate blindness. I often see in hindsight how I could have been a better steward of my time, energy, and responsibilities.

But what better time to apply to the gospel, than the times we have sinned? What better time to remember afresh that Christ had to die because we were going to continually mess things up? What better time to rejoice that we serve a God who is bigger than our sin, who has promised to work all things together for our good and his glory? (Romans 8:28)

And even if it's not the result of sin, just the problems that come with living in a fallen world, he still works those things for our good.

It’s the redemption that I need to cling to most tightly. I like how Jimmy Davis puts it in Cruciform: Living the Cross-Shaped Life:

Suffering for the Christian is neither the result of God’s punishment nor a sign of his rejection. The word discipline is used to indicate training, growth, improvement, advancement. It is for our good, an essential part of the continual redirection of our hearts away from our own me-first path and back onto God’s you-first path. Those who have been born anew into Christ’s kingdom must take up their crosses and die daily to their me-first hearts, following the one who took up his cross and “learned obedience through what he suffered” (Hebrews 5:8, see also Luke 9:23-25, Hebrew 2:10, Philippians 2:8).

We must endure—and by grace we can and will endure—whatever means God may choose in order to do us good through discipline. Part of the wonder of our salvation is that for each of us there is a unique and foreordained plan (the farthest possible thing from a series of random or pointless circumstances) by which God is committed to seeing us live a cross-shaped life (Hebrews12:3-7a). [1]

Whether my suffering is a consequence of my sin or not, it is never random, it is never purposeless, and it is never beyond God’s redemption.

I haven’t mastered this. Far from it. And though many have endured far worse trials than any of mine, I still struggle with resentment when they happen. Many times, like Peter, I only turn to God because I don’t have anywhere else to turn. (John 6:68–69) [2]

We can’t predict or stop our trials, but we can change how we respond to them. We can shake our fists at the heavens and walk the path resentfully, or we can trust that God has a purpose beyond what we can see. We can use the time to grow in holiness or to harden with bitterness. I haven’t learned much in my 42 years—and sometimes I forget and have to learn it all over again—but God’s way, the way of holiness, is always best. And not just because we don’t have anywhere else to turn, but because he loves us better.

[1] Jimmy Davis, Cruciform: Living the Cross-Shaped Life, p 101.
[2] Ibid, p 98.