Life lately

Did I mention that my husband's job changed?

The little company he worked for was acquired by a much larger company.  For the first time in 23 years, we have dental benefits.

Last Friday, the former president of the small, newly acquired company resigned from his new position within the new, large structure.

My husband has traveled approximately 7 out of the past 9 weeks.  Or maybe 8.

Three weeks ago, I went along with him and visited our daughter who is in the Canton, Ohio area.  Shawn had visits ranging from east of Pittsburgh to Cleveland, so Lulu was right in the middle of it all.

Two weeks ago, the kids came home for Thanksgiving, and Shawn was in town, too!

David's flight back to NC after Thanksgiving was scheduled to leave Chicago O'Hare at 8 a.m. Black Friday morning.  He would have needed to be at the airport by 6:30 a.m., which means we'd have had to leave here by 4 a.m. and contend with Chicago's Black Friday traffic to boot.  That was bad enough, but Shannon was leaving at 9 p.m. the same day, and we didn't really want to spend all day in Chicago, nor did we want to drive to Chicago and back twice in one day.

So we decided to keep DJ home for a couple extra days, and then he and I drove our van to NC on Sunday.  It worked nicely, because Shawn had a trip to southern California all that week.  The dogs and I went to David's, and I was spared what would have been yet another week of loneliness.

Sunday-after-Thanksgiving traffic home with David turned out to be not-what-we-were-hoping.  Heavy traffic, accidents and unrelenting, pelting rain turned a 12 hour drive into about 15.  But, you know, when you spent a long period of your earlier life needing to navigate the route from NY to Minnesota at the same time of year, it leaves you grateful that rain is not snow, and wet roads are not iced over.

It was a good week in North Carolina, even if it began with a rainy chill.

Perhaps I nearly drove David and his roommate crazy by tidying their space and organizing the refrigerator.  It was astonishing how much space I was able to create by grouping similar items, taking things out of grocery bags and putting them where they could be seen and recognized, placing produce in produce drawers, and situating short containers on short shelves so that tall containers could go on tall shelves.

At one point, David's roommate opened the refrigerator and peered inside, slightly shuddering with shock at the altered sight.  He froze for a moment, disoriented.  "Can I help you?"  I asked.  "What are you looking for?"

Still staring straight ahead, he replied, "I just want to make a sandwich."

Easy!  I said, "Sandwich meat and cheese are in the deli drawer."  I put my finger on the deli drawer, in case he didn't know what it was, which I thought might be the case, as it had formerly contained onions and a chunk of partially unwrapped butter.  "Condiments are in the door, where they were before, and so is your bread."  He happily gathered an armload of ingredients and took them to the table.

It is a lot more fun to tidy someone else's home than to tidy your own home.  I do not know why this is.  Perhaps it is because you don't have to finish; you can just work on what you want to work on, and stop when you are happy with what you have accomplished.  I did not try to organize the entire kitchen, but throughout the week I was there, the order increased a bit each day, as I found where things went, and then gathered up all the loose items that could be put away in a location.  For instance, paper cups and plates.  There were packages of paper cups and plates everywhere.  One day, I opened a low cupboard and found a supply of paper products.  Immediately, I gathered all the paper cups and plates from the entire kitchen and stashed them in this cupboard.  I felt like I'd just caught a long pass to score a touchdown.

It was a nice stay.  I went to two Bible studies, read two books, enjoyed two shakes from a place called Cook Out, met the mystery roommate who had been away at a conference every other time we'd been in town, and watched a documentary about the life of the man who played Big Bird on Sesame Street.  On Friday night, Shawn flew in from Cali.  On Saturday, we helped DJ put plastic over a drafty window, attended a Duke performance of The Messiah, and dined at a Peruvian restaurant with a group of DJ's best friends (nice selection of gluten-free menu choices).  On Sunday, we drove home, light traffic and clear weather allowing us to make it in 12 hours, just as we would have hoped.

I have other things in my mind today that I would like to remember, but the stories are too long to tell.  Remind me to discuss the concept of resilience sometime soon.

Meantime, we need to get a Christmas tree up around here!

The goodness of the Lord

Of all the Lord's attributes, His goodness is the one I struggle most to understand.

I do not know why this is, because so many of His other attributes are intrinsically related to goodness.  Purity is a form of goodness, uncorrupted goodness.  Righteousness is a form of goodness, dependable, accurate goodness.  Kindness, mercy, grace -- all these things are types of goodness, the goodness of generosity, of mitigating punishment, of extending unmerited favor.  It is easy for me to feel the truth that God is pure, righteous, kind, merciful and gracious.  Why then do I struggle to believe His goodness?  Don't all these other things prove that He is good?

God's attributes fall into two main categories:  (1) His goodness, and (2) His sovereign, almighty power.

One thing God has spoken,
two things I have heard:
that You, O God, are strong,
and that You, O Lord, are loving.
~Psalm 62:11-12a (NIV, emph. mine)

Love, kindness, goodness -- these virtues, if removed from strength and power, are ineffective.  Of what use is it that I want to do you a favor, if I cannot do you a favor?

Power, might, sovereign control -- these attributes, if removed from goodness and love, are downright dangerous.

The Bible clearly teaches that God is the perfect combination of goodness and omnipotence, of love and strength.  With God, we have nothing to fear, because everything He desires to do, He has the power to do, and everything He does is motivated by love, for our good.  He is perfectly faithful, and He will never fail.

So why do I sometimes find myself hung up over the idea of the goodness of the Lord?

Perhaps it is because we humans naturally associate goodness with two things: compliance and pleasure.

Let's consider compliance:
A compliant child obeys his parents.  He is quiet and cooperative, sweet-spirited and easy to be around.  He agrees and doesn't argue.  He learns the rules and follows them.  "What a good little boy," we say.  "What a delightful child."  Likewise, a good dog comes when it is called and stays off the furniture.  A good car starts when you turn the key and is easy to steer.

God does not act in response to our turning a key.  We do not steer Him (He steers us).  God does not obey our commands like a genie in a bottle, for He is God, and we are not.  He does not cooperate with our agenda; it is our job to cooperate with His agenda.  We do not make rules for Him; He makes rules for us.

God is not compliant.

One of the most helpful explanations I've ever come across, with regard to the goodness of God, is from C.S. Lewis's The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.  When the children (the main characters) are speaking with some beavers, they discover that Aslan is a lion, and Lucy cries out, "Is he safe?"  Mr. Beaver replies something on the order of, "Of course he isn't safe, but he's good."

God isn't safe.  But He's good.  He won't give you everything you ask for, but He'll give you everything you need to accomplish His purpose for your life.  He won't keep pain out of your life, but He will faithfully keep every promise He has made.  He will forgive your sins when you ask Him to.  He will grant salvation to everyone who believes, and He will never leave or forsake His children.  He is preparing heaven for us, and He will take us there at the end of this age, delivering us into a glorious paradise beyond our wildest dreams.

God is not compliant, but He is good.

Let's consider pleasure:
"This is good ice-cream!" we say, meaning that it is delicious.  A good book was a joy to read.  A good day likely boasted beautiful weather, strapping health and successful accomplishments.  We associate happiness, success, sunshine, sweet flavors, pretty colors and feelings of bliss with goodness.  Goodness brings pleasure.

There is undeniably an aspect of pleasure in Christianity.

Taste and see that the Lord is good;
blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him.
~Psalm 34:8 (NIV)

Delight yourself in the Lord
and He will give you the desires of your heart.
~Psalm 37:4 (NIV)

As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, O God.
~Psalm 42:1 (NIV)

How lovely is Your dwelling place,
O Lord Almighty!
My soul yearns, even faints,
for the courts of the Lord;
my heart and my flesh cry out
for the living God.
~Psalam 84:1-2 (NIV)

How sweet are Your words to my taste,
sweeter than honey to my mouth!
~Psalm 119:103 (NIV)

You have made known to me the path of life;
You will fill me with joy in Your presence,
with eternal pleasures at Your right hand.
~Psalm 16:11 (NIV)

Yet I am always with You;
You hold me by my right hand.
You guide me by Your counsel,
and afterward you will take me into glory.
Whom have I in heaven but You?
And earth has nothing I desire besides You.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
but God is the strength of my heart
and my portion forever.
~Psalm 73:23-26

God is good in the sense that He grants us access to the greatest pleasure, delight, joy and fulfillment that we can possibly achieve.

Here's the rub:  Christianity may be the greatest case of delayed gratification ever known to mankind.  Your entire life on earth could be miserable, apart from the peace and joy that result from hoping in the promises of God through the power of the Holy Spirit.  There are no promises that it will be otherwise.  Yes, there will be pleasure, but you must exercise faith before you receive it.  There will be no eternal pleasures without faith.  That's why Matthew 7 tells us that the way to destruction is a broad road that many travel, but the way to life is narrow and only a few find it.  You know the old adage, "A bird in hand is worth two in the bush"?  Most people accept and live by that philosophy.  It's worldly wisdom.  On the contrary, Jesus tells us that if we'll just stop trying to consume that puny sparrow in our hand, He has barnyards full of plump, juicy chickens waiting for us in glory.  We only have to trust Him.

"Only."

How do we learn to trust?  How can we have faith that God is indeed good, when life on earth is full of disappointment, pain and uncertain outcome?

It all culminates in Jesus.  We can look to Jesus.  We must look to Jesus.  Jesus is the undeniable proof of the goodness of God.  In Jesus, all the promises of God are "Yes!" (2 Corinthians 1:20).

When humanity rebelled and sullied all of God's perfect creation with the stain of sin, God did not point the almighty finger of wrath and destroy us.  In contemporary, consumer-driven America, we should understand this above all things: when what someone gets is not what he wanted, he takes it back for a refund or exchange.  Or he throws it out and gets a new one.  God's creation was damaged, spoiled even, but He had already planned to fix us, to redeem us at His own personal cost, because of His goodness and His grace.  He patiently worked through the building blocks of His creation--space, time and matter--and miraculously packaged His own perfect essence in the flesh and blood body of the Son of God, Jesus Christ, delivered to earth to divert the wrath of God from the rest of us.  On the day He was crucified, Jesus absorbed the wrath of God, which we deserved and He certainly did not.  He absorbed this wrath in our place, and at the same time somehow miraculously shed His own perfect righteousness over us, so that we could be saved.  While we were sinners, Christ died for us (Romans 5:8).

This is the goodness of God.

We can see it in the sunshine, a clear blue sky, a silent snowfall or a roaring waterfall.  We see it in birds frolicking above us and squirrels scampering in furry gray arcs across the road.  We see God's goodness in gallons of milk distributed to grocery stores, and miles of corn growing in fields, and apples dangling from tree boughs in September.  We see His goodness in a hot, flickering bonfire, the kind smile of a stanger, and the squealing giggle of a little child.  A gift, a flower, a love note, a piece of jewelry, an effective medicine, a drink of water, all these things are evidences of the goodness of the Lord.

Every good and perfect gift is from above,
coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights . . .
~James 1:17a (NIV)

We are still here, and not destroyed, living in a world littered with remnant fragments of His goodness and glory, because of Jesus.  God is good, and Jesus is the ultimate manifestation of His goodness.  "The grace of God incarnate," I think I've heard them say.

If you ever start to doubt the goodness of God, remember our hopelessness without Him, our sin and our shame.  Then remember the grace of Jesus, the sacrifice, the surrender of His life for our lives.  Because of Jesus, we have forgiveness, freedom and hope.

For the wages of sin is death,
but the gift of God is eternal life
in Christ Jesus our Lord.
~Romans 6:23 (NIV)

For God so loved the world
that He gave His one and only Son
that whoever believes in Him
shall not perish
but have eternal life.
~John 3:16 (NIV)

Yes.  God is good.

Forgiveness and Suffering

This is a repost from another blog I write (Seeking Wisdom, Craving Grace -- I don't write there very often, and next to nobody reads it, but it's a place I find myself revisiting).  I thought of this old post today, because (1) I've been studying Revelation and we are getting into the part about the persecution of the saints, and (2) I read a book over the last couple of days, and the end of this book dealt deeply with forgiveness, but the author did not cover this particular aspect of it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

I write a lot about suffering here, probably because suffering is a Biblical reality that I find missing from much Biblical teaching.

(aside:  I am no masochist.  I don't write about suffering because I like it.  I write about suffering because I think there is a lack of solid Christian teaching on the subject--not that I am claiming to be solid, but an attempt at teaching is better than no teaching in an area that most people don't care to broach.  I write about suffering because Christians who are suffering need to know that it is a normal part of life on a fallen earth and does not mean that God doesn't love them.  I write about suffering because some Biblically uniformed people seem to think that the existence of suffering is somehow a proof against the existence of God.  But I don't write about suffering because I like to.  I don't like suffering any more than anybody else.)

One theme of the Bible is this:  you will be refined through suffering and trials.  It's stated over and over.  Off the top of my head, I can give you Romans 5:3-5, 1 Peter 1:6-7 and James 1:2-4.

This may not be our favorite or most marketable truth, as Christians.  But the Bible clearly tells us that we will suffer.  Jesus himself said, "In this world you will have trouble, but take heart, I have overcome the world." (from John 16:33)

Honestly, I have not met many people who are worth knowing who have not suffered.  Suffering tenders people, deepens their ability to have compassion.  God uses suffering to make our spirits beautiful.  When we suffer, we learn things we could never learn in any other way.

I have always dreaded suffering, good results notwithstanding.  I am a Big Chicken.  I do not like pain.

Philippians 3:8-10 (ESV) says,   

Indeed, I count everything as loss 
because of the surpassing worth 
of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. 
For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things 
and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ 
and be found in him, not having a righteousness 
of my own that comes from the law, 
but that which comes through faith in Christ, 
the righteousness from God that depends on faith—
that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, 
and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, 
that by any means possible I may attain 
the resurrection from the dead.

It does exhilarate me to think of casting aside "all things" as rubbish for the greater good of knowing Christ.  I am not sure how to do this, and I am quite sure that apart from the power of the Holy Spirit I am utterly unable to accomplish it. Still, the idea appeals to me.

However, sharing in His suffering, becoming like Him in His death... that scares me a great deal.

Suffering for Jesus makes me think of Christians in countries where it is illegal to be a Christian.  It makes me think of being thrown into prison, starved, beaten, tortured.  Because I have a pathologically vivid imagination, I will spare you the details of all the things it makes me think of.  Suffice it to say, it scares me to death.

I may be called to suffer like that.  Some people are, and some people are not.  But we are all called to suffer for Christ, and there are other, more every-day ways that God accomplishes this in us.

For instance, the other day I was reading and thinking about Ephesians 4: 32 (ESV),

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, 
forgiving one another, 
as God in Christ forgave you. 

Forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.  What does that mean?  How did God in Christ forgive me?

In Christ, God forgave me by bearing the consequences of my sins Himself, in His own human body that He indwelt in order to accomplish the task (see Philippians 2:5-11).  He did not simply say, "Whooops!  You made some mistakes, but no big deal. I'll just forgive you, and you can start over with a clean slate, don't worry about it.  It's no big deal.  It doesn't matter."

It does matter.  Our sins are a very big deal, an offense against the perfect, holy, almighty Creator of the Universe.  Our sins do not just vaporize and blow away in a gentle breeze.  It was not, could not be, that easy.  To free us from the consequences of our sins, Jesus had to bear the consequences Himself.

Forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.   

This means that we forgive others, as Christ did, by suffering the consequences of their sins.  We bear the brunt.  We suffer what the person who hurt us should rightfully suffer.  And we do it because it's what Jesus did for us; it's the pattern He laid down.  We, like Jesus, must hold out mercy and self-sacrifice to our enemies, rather than demanding vengeance.  We must suffer, like Jesus, and entrust our souls to God, believing with all the faith He has given us that God Himself will take care of the ending.

This is very hard.  It is unpalatable.  But it is what the Bible says. 

It is hard, but we have opportunities all the time.  We don't have to wait for the government to make Christianity illegal and throw us into prison.  We can share in the suffering of Christ every time someone wrongs us and we choose to absorb the hurt with forgiveness.

And as we trust God, He will make all things right.  As He raised, restored and glorified Christ, so He will raise, restore and glorify all of His children after we have struggled to learn, to trust, to take up our crosses and follow Him.

Thankful for my children

We just had a fabulous celebration of Thanksgiving, the whole family together.

I am overwhelmedly thankful for the children God gave me.

Here are their baby pictures.  I go all warm and melty inside, almost painfully so, when I remember holding their tiny bodies and thanking Jesus for their precious new lives, right as soon as I first met their miraculous selves.

Baby Shannon, 1989

Baby David, 1991

Baby Laura, 1992

Baby Jon-Jon, 1995

Be still my heart.

God is good.

I am thankful for my children.

Thankful for my single geranium bloom on a snowy day

Today I woke to inclement weather.

I had to be somewhere at 5:55 a.m.  On Saturday morning.  Yes, I did.

Yesterday had been warm and beautiful.

Today I woke up in the dark.  Fortunately for me, I dressed and left my house before I was aware of much.  At some point between the first and second turns away from my home, I realized that all was black and wet, but I just kept driving, and the Lord kept me safe.  I assumed that the precipitation was rain, because everything was as black as night.  Well, to be fair, it pretty much was night.  I did try to read the temperature on my dashboard, but I wasn't wearing my reading glasses (I can't see in the distance for driving, if I have reading glasses on).  All I could make out on the dashboard thermometer was thirty-something.  I chose to believe it was 36 or 38 degrees.

When I got out of my meeting, three inches of heavy snow coated my car.  Punch-drunk from early morning, the others who had attended the meeting commenced to lobbing snowballs in the parking lot.  One man drove off with a mini snowman perched on his hood.

When I arrived at home, my neighborhood looked like this:

But, on my front porch, a potted geranium stood resolute and fuchsia, barely sheltered from the blowing sleet beyond.

Gawky, yet determined.

I am thankful for the sight, for the fact that this flower could bloom at all on the 21st of November, and for the symbolism.

Hope springs eternal.  Miracles abound.

I am thankful.

Thankful for windows

I am thankful for windows.

Have you ever imagined what the world would be like, if there were no windows?

Windows let in light and air.  They connect us to the world around us, even while we shelter in our familiar cocoons.

Windows show us beautiful views.

They can also show us brokenness, despair.  This is not a bad thing.  Windows (like books) open our eyes to new perspectives that we need to understand, teaching us empathy.

Windows gently encourage us to imagine things beyond ourselves.  Brightening and darkening, they help us mark time.  Open, they refresh with a cool breeze.  Closed, they shut out a violent rainstorm.

Have you ever watched raindrops squash against the outside of window glass, smearing and straining but unable to dampen you?

Our own windows bring familiar views, day by day.  When we travel, we might see almost anything from a window, especially if we peer out the window of a car or an airplane.

Windows demand quite a lot of upkeep, cleaning and maintenance.  They are worth it.

I am thankful for windows.

Thankful for the sun, light and sight

As I age, my eyesight is deteriorating.

My lupus medication is hard on eyes, so I can be a bit paranoid about the whole thing.

But, today I can see, and for that I am truly grateful.

I need my reading glasses for almost everything: reading, cooking, shopping, cleaning.  I can't even do a decent job of washing dishes without my reading glasses.

Sometimes I just wear my reading glasses all day.  Since they blur my distance vision, I find myself walking up and down hallways and stairs with my hand held up 18 inches from my face, as a focus point.  This is something I can do, and it works fine, and I can function, and I can see, well enough.

It's strange how much more thankful I am to be able to see, now that my sight is no longer what it used to be.  Or perhaps it isn't strange.  Perhaps it only illustrates that we don't always appreciate things fully, until we are at risk of losing them.

With decreasing visual acuity, I also appreciate light more than ever.  (I've been glad on more than one occasion that we installed white counters and a white backsplash in our kitchen work areas.)

The sun, of course, is the ultimate source of light.

Since moving to the midwest, I have gloried in the frequent presence of sunshine in my days.  I never tire of it.  We do get a cloudy day, now and then, and it is nice to stay inside and do quiet things while the clouds temporarily muffle the brightness of the sun.  Clouds never last too long here, and it is an absolute wonder and a balm to my soul.

I am thankful that I can see.

I am thankful for light.

I am thankful for the sun.