Lies, #4

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I have an addiction to confess. I am addicted to good behavior. If you have read any of my other blog posts, this is probably not a surprise. I have been a Pharisee, and even if I have not kept all the rules as well as Paul and many of the leaders in Jesus’ time, I have longed to. Do not be deceived: this addiction is not less awful than addictions to substances, screens, and all those “bad” things that usually come to mind when we hear the word “addiction.” Spiritually, I find myself as depraved as the worst criminal.

I have tried yearly, monthly, daily, hourly, to leave my perfection and performance mindset behind, and still it haunts me. Still I want to be perfect… or at least better. Still I fall from glimpses of grace back into the comfort of commandment-following. This lie from my childhood still shackles me: Less than perfect is not acceptable. Practice makes perfect. No effort must be spared to reach perfection.

As I first began grappling with this two winters ago, the Holy Spirit’s response to the lie was this: Perfection is a harsh taskmaster and an unreachable ideal. You are already perfect in Me; the rest will come as you follow Me. It is not your job, but Mine in you. Your job is to rest and trust. I will help you remember grace, for yourself and for others. Practice love, not tasks. Over these two years the Spirit has continued to soften my heart and set me free, despite me oscillating between protesting His work and demanding that He do it faster. 

Recently I was reminded of Rick Warren’s opening line in his book “The Purpose Driven Life.” He says simply, “It’s not about you.” When I hear that I bristle. I feel afraid, unimportant, and indignant. Jesus died for me because He places highest value on my life and freedom, didn’t He? If it’s not about me, what is it about? And won’t I get lost and trampled on if it’s not about me?

Slowly, so very slowly, I am learning to trust Jesus. As I trust, I find many of the things that seem unpalatable about His message are actually where soul-deep freedom awaits me. So what is He telling me with “It’s not about me”? It’s not about me in the sense that I don’t have to get my act together in order for God to do great things. God bears fruit through me as I connect to Him. I’ve heard this all my life, but I’ve missed two things: 1) what God has in mind is great – infinitely greater than what I could accomplish in a lifetime, even if He were to make me perfect today; and 2) it doesn’t depend on me becoming a better person – He is able to do incredible things in and through me precisely because it’s not about me. (If it was about me He would never be able to do the things He claims He can do). Rather than that statement being lonely or fearful, it’s freeing. It takes the pressure off. At last I can breath! It’s not about me.

As Joyce Meyer explains so well in her book “If Not for the Grace of God,” we don’t earn salvation – we receive it just as we are – and God’s work in our life after salvation is exactly the same. It doesn’t depend on my merit at all. It is His work. I think this line in Philip Yancey’s book “What’s So Amazing About Grace?” sums it up beautifully: “The opposite of sin is grace, not virtue.” Pharisaical as I have been, I thought virtue was the goal. As it turns out, God is not focused on the mess that I am. He is ready to do great things! And His grace is the power to do those things.

Here I am Lord, weak, willing, desiring Your work more than mine. This is nothing short of a miracle.

Lies, #3

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I find safety in conformity. I feel afraid of diversity. There is something really uncomfortable for me about interacting with someone who may be hard of seeing or hearing, or who has unusual behaviors or a mental disorder. I don’t know what the rules are. Perhaps if love was the rule I could navigate alright, despite my apparent lack of understanding. But I don’t operate well at that level. I desire clearly defined roles and expectations.

One of the lies I have believed from childhood is this: What you think or feel is only ok when it is the same as what I think or feel. Alternatively, if I can understand how you might think or feel that way, there is a slight possibility for it to be ok even if we are not in agreement. But if what you think or feel doesn’t make sense to me it couldn’t possibly be valid. This goes for desires, tastes and preferences, and so on.

And so I go through life judging others, and assuming they are judging me. I believe that what I feel is not valid unless other people share the same feeling, or unless I can logically defend my feeling. (By the way, logically defending feelings has been a fruitless exercise). I question myself, and I feel discomfort within my own self because I don’t follow my own rules and expectations. How do I reconcile with the mess that I am? How will I interact with people who follow different rules than I do?

The Holy Spirit’s answer to my lie is this: What you think, feel, desire, prefer, and enjoy delights me. I love that all my children are different. Your experience is valid. You don’t need to explain or justify to me why you like or dislike something, want to do something or go somewhere, desire or enjoy something, or feel a particular feeling. You do not have to agree with me in thought and/or action in order for me to be pleased with you. I am pleased with you and I delight in you.

Could I let God be big enough that He can delight in me AND in the person who disagrees with me? Is it possible that what seems mutually exclusive to me is not mutually exclusive to God? Perhaps there is more value in the human experience than in its definition. Maybe part of abundant life is living free from the need to measure up, to hustle, to conform. God is pleased with me and He delights in me. I am enough. Today I can rest. Not after I become a “better” person. Right now. You and I are already in His favor. And so are the “others” in our lives.

Small

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Today I failed. One daughter forgot her lunch, and in the disappointment of losing 40 minutes of my morning to fetch a lunch, I lost it. I called her lunch stupid. I said I was angry. I said I didn’t know if I would even go back and get it for her. Of course after the failure came the even worse mire of shame, and the threat of wallowing through it for the rest of my day. As I drove in the quiet, I cursed at God and begged Him for help all in the same breath. I cried. I wished hormones were not raging. I desperately asked for help over and over, because I knew I needed help and that was about all I could get out.

Navigating failure is not my strong suit. But there’s something you should know about God. He’s not limited by our smallness. A prayer for help is powerful. He met me this morning, and He soothed my heart. He held me as I felt the pain of hurting my child with lashing words. He gave me strength to take responsibility so I can apologize. He encouraged me to tell my daughter I am still learning that it’s ok to make mistakes. He helped me let go of those 40 minutes I felt so angry about.

Sometimes I think I am getting better at life. Or faith. Or parenting. Or something. Maybe I’m figuring things out. I think I have done something good. Or gotten something right. I start thinking I have developed some merit and strength, and I lean on that instead of God. The beauty of failing is that it immediately returns my focus to God. It reminds me that every good thing comes from God (i.e. not me).

Let me never think that I have things figured out, that I know what I’m doing, or that I am able to do God’s work. What He is offering me is divine, not human. It will always be His work, because it is a work no human could ever do. May I not make it smaller so I can have the power. May I always let it be as magnificent as it is, and may I always see my smallness. If ever I feel I have figured it out, let that be a sign that I left God behind. I am the created, and He the creator. I will rejoice in failure, because when I remember I am small, I allow God to be big.

Love Unmeasured

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Lord, when I am tempted to strive, remind me that I already have the prize. You have already given me something far greater than anything I could achieve in a lifetime of good behavior. You paid an unfathomable price to achieve for me something I can never achieve for myself: intimacy with God. God, the King of the world, Creator, Friend, Redeemer, Safe Place, my Rock, and the only One able to make something beautiful and lasting out of our broken lives. As the whole world strives and groans to earn, Your children sit and bask in grace. We have what the whole world desires but believes is too good to be true: unconditional acceptance, lavish love, powerful grace. Let us not sterilize it and neutralize it by attaching conditions. It is meant to be scandalous. Only unmeasured love can save us from all our measuring.

Power

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I am forever trying to earn things with God, and it just doesn’t work. When will I learn not to earn? As Ann Voskamp would say, I have “chronic soul amnesia,” continually forgetting what God has whispered to my heart. In my prayer journal I wrote “In Christ I am already perfect. I don’t need to accomplish anything because He has already accomplished everything.”

Recently I have become aware of how this is true of prayer, both in the listening and in the speaking. When I listen and God tells me something, it’s usually something He is doing for me, not something He expects me to do. It’s hard to explain, because on earth if someone with power tells me to do something, they expect me to do it. But God’s words accomplish what they say. “Then God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.” (Genesis 1:3) “Then He walked over to the coffin and touched it, and the bearers stopped. ‘Young man,’ He said, ‘I tell you, get up.’ Then the dead boy sat up and began to talk! And Jesus gave him back to his mother.” (Luke 7:14, 15)

I am no more able to trust or love or stop worrying than that dead boy was to sit up. Jesus’s words carry with them the power of action. When He speaks to me, it is a pronouncement of what He is giving me and doing in me, not a command for me to do something. When He says “Don’t worry about anything” (Philippians 4:6), He is giving me a gift. He’s saying, “I’ve got it covered. You don’t have anything to worry about.” His words bestow things on us rather than expecting things from us.

Likewise, in speaking to God in prayer, I need not think I have to accomplish anything. My whole life I have prayed “help me” prayers. “Lord, please help me be patient today.” “Lord, please help my give my children permission to feel whatever they are feeling.” Recently I realized that this is rather ridiculous. It would be like me, with my business degree, going out to build a house and inviting an expert builder along to “help” me. It would make much more sense for me to ask the builder to build the house, and for me to be available if he needs an extra pair of hands.

In the same way, I can pray “Lord, please give my children permission to feel whatever they are feeling.” He is infinitely better equipped to accomplish that than I am. He may or may not include me in His answer, but it will be much easier for Him to include me, than for me to include Him. If I start trying to do it, I’ve already missed His timing and have no idea how or what to expect of Him helping me. If I leave it with Him, He will do it as He sees fit and involve me perfectly. As an added bonus, I don’t have to be thinking and worrying and trying, because He’s got it covered!

Slowly he is coaxing me out of my armor of good behavior, inviting me to trust Him. And as I emerge, feeling a bit naked, He reminds me, “As a father pities His children, so the Lord pities those who fear Him. For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust.” (Psalm 103:13, 14) He is not expecting me to get things right. He is expecting me to be weak, and His strength is the perfect match for my weakness. His joy is to provide for me – and you.

 

Lies, #2

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Lie: Your productivity is more important than almost anything else, including your emotions, your desires, how tired or hungry you are, and whether you find value in what you’re producing or not. Ah yes, this lie is so familiar to me, so insistent, so much a part of the fabric of how I have lived my life.

Have you noticed that lies and idols can be one and the same? I have always been confused when people try to talk about “modern” idols – money, possessions, relationships, whatever. Until a few years back when I did a Bible study on the book of Jeremiah that helped me identify my idols: productivity and comfort. Those were the first two idols I identified. When I told a friend, she said “those seem like good things!” Yes indeed. And that is how Satan so skillfully weaves them into my being and snares me with them and even convinces me to worship them.

Here is how the Holy Spirit answered this lie: “You are the most important thing to Me. I died for you even though you might not choose me, and I love you the same whether you choose me or not. I made you and I love you: your emotions, your desires, your values. How you feel matters to me, and I want to give you rest. You don’t need to do anything for me. (You don’t need to love me. You don’t need to serve me. You don’t need to be a good Christian so you’re not misrepresenting my name. You don’t need to have daily devotions. I love you. And if you love me back that’s like a cherry on top.)”

He took all the “works” right out of it and made it about grace. This is the God I am coming to know. The emotionally safe God, the God who turns things upside down, the God who saves me from myself. He takes these wounds in my spirit and shows them to me, layer by layer, revealing what healing He has for me.

So layered with this lie is another one, again from childhood (this is how I internalized things, not necessarily the message my parents were trying to send): Working hard is extremely important, and learning to work hard is the purpose of childhood. Those who don’t work hard reap the consequences. It is never ok not to be a hard worker. What needs to be accomplished (which is anything productive that is available in any area that is not currently in a state of perfection) is more important than you. Whether you have the time, energy, motivation, or interest to do it doesn’t matter. It must be done. If something is important to me more than to you, I will make sure to make it a burden to you by mentioning it, its urgency, and the dire consequences of not doing it, until you comply. The idea that it may just be less important to you is totally invalid, or if it is less important to you, it’s because you’re thoughtless and/or lazy.

As I look at this I have to chuckle. My poor husband has been through a lot of torment because of this lie. I have treated him according to the lie, and as he is not a “do-er” in the way that I am, it has been torture for him. I am grateful that he has stuck with me, patiently setting boundaries and loving me in spite of my intense desire to Get! Things! Done! Already!!!

Amazingly, the Spirit answered this lie with the same initial statement: “You are the most important thing to Me. The purpose of childhood is learning and growing, which children do automatically. Parents participate in that by modeling, and providing opportunities. Never measure your success as a parent by how hard your children work. Leave the measuring up to me. Sometimes it is ok not to be working. Elijah spent years by the brook Cherith. Rest is a blessed thing (literally). It is a gift, and an opportunity to remember other gifts. To be always busy is to be lonely, tired, frustrated (the work is never done, and the not-always-busy people aren’t helping). Connection requires rest, unplanned time. It is good to slow, to stop. It does not mean you are lazy, ignorant of the work available, or thoughtless/foolish. No one but you is measuring your productivity. You can stop now. And you don’t need to measure your rest either. Just because there are things to do doesn’t mean you ought to be doing them.”

Every time I read this, my spirit takes a deep breath. I am important to God. Apart from my productivity, my behavior. I am loved no matter how I perform. God wants me more than anything I can do for him. Oh Jesus, let Your voice speak with authority above all the others.

Connection Is Greater Than Perfection

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Have you ever dated Jesus for His mansion? A home of gold and jewels waiting for you in a perfect world free from tears and pain? Or maybe you fell in love with Him and although you’ve lost the passion you’re sticking with Him because He’s such a nice guy and you hope all that niceness will rub off on you. He is love, joy peace, patience, kindness… and you could definitely use more of that. Perhaps fear keeps you in the relationship: you fear His eternal wrath if you don’t believe, or fear He’ll remove your favorite blessing here on earth if you don’t tow the line. Maybe you’re in an arranged marriage. Your parents picked Jesus out for you from birth and their dearest wish is to see you happy together forever, but you feel trapped. Or is Jesus your convenient boyfriend? He’s always nice to you, He wants to be with you, but He’s not pressuring you into anything, so you enjoy your independence and give Him a call when you’re lonely.

Or perhaps, like me, you thought He wanted something from you and you’ve been working hard to be productive for Him. I haven’t spent a whole lot of time thinking about His mansions or how available His love is to me, but I have spent countless hours thinking (and fretting) about what He wants from me. Certainly he must want something. Right? There are sufficient options, I can choose what fits me best. Or what makes the guilt a little less persistent. Take a high stake option like selling all my possessions and moving halfway around the world to be a missionary in a closed country. Take a low stake option like reading a few Bible verses every day. Take the obvious Biblical exhortations: obedience, for example. Of course He wants obedience from us. How about loving behavior? He wants me to be kind and generous, have good thoughts, be slow to anger (James 1:19). There are so many things, and I’m pretty sure He wants them all. He says “But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect” (Matthew 5:48). But all this fretting has done little for me, and I am reminded that my righteousness is like filthy rags (Isaiah 64:6).

Among the various words and phrases I have written in my prayer window are these: “He is best discovered when I am seeking Him – not a better version of myself”; and “He wants me more than anything I can do for Him.” I feel this tugging on my heart. Jesus begging me to rethink. To repent (turn toward Him). I have believed that He is seeking my doing, and I have sought His doing in my life. Oh how I long to be patient, kind, gentle. How I long to be a better parent and wife. How I long for the truth to set me free into the joyful and abundant life. But have I longed for Jesus? He is pressing close to my spirit. He is telling me, “I want you. I want to be with you. I want to be your most intimate companion, even if you never change. Even if you never do one thing for me. I don’t want your behavior. I want you! Do you hear me? I am literally crazy about you. This mansion of gold and jewels feels lonely without you. You are so precious to me that to live inside you so that we are never apart even for a second is my greatest desire. I am not afraid of your brokenness. I am not frustrated by your problems. I am not disappointed that you have not performed well for me. I am so in love with you that those things are nothing to me.”

I have hungered, I have grasped, I have desperately worked, I have demanded, I have begged, I have despaired. Where are these fruits, the gentleness, patience, kindness, joyfulness, and self control? God has graciously walked with me through this unholy flailing, and I see a light at the end of the tunnel. I feel this prayer in my heart and on my lips: Lord, you will not do anything that does not build the intimacy of our relationship. You will not give me the fruit of the Spirit just so I can have the fruit. The whole point is that I do life with you. You in me, me in you. Abiding. You desire to be my companion every moment of every day. You don’t just give me the fruit of the Spirit, because the fruit is not the gift. You are the gift. You with me is the gift. You want to be with me. Intimately. Always. Lord let this sink into my spirit and my bones. As Chris Tomlin sings, “Oh I’ve heard a thousand stories of what they think You’re like, but I’ve heard the tender whisper of love in the dead of night, and you tell me that You’re pleased and that I am never alone. You’re a good, good Father, it’s who You are… and I am loved by You, it’s who I am.” I feel like I’ve been going after you for Your money or Your mansions, or Your treasure, Your power, Your gifts, or hoping You’ll rub off on me. But now I see the beauty of resting and letting you come after me. I see that Your offer to be my companion in life far outweighs all the other things You have that I was hoping to gain by being with You. I have wanted you for what You can do for me, and I have believed that You wanted me for what I can do for You. I repent of these beliefs and I turn toward You. I accept this joyous mystery: you want to be with me.

Lies, #1 – Part 2

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I’m part of a parenting community called 22:6 Parenting, and this month we’re thinking about Sabbath and how to prioritize rest. Mentor Joshua Straub asked the question, “What are you chasing?”, and as I considered this in my quiet time with Jesus, He gave me an answer.

What am I chasing? Good behavior. I want to behave well. I want my kids to behave well. I want my husband to behave well. (No wonder I am not content most of the time!) Like the elder brother in the story of the “prodigal son,” I have put my faith not in my Savior, but in my behavior. I continue to believe the lie that if I do things right everything will turn out ok. I am trying to use You, Lord – to wrench blessings from you by keeping up some sort of imaginary bargain. But of course You can’t be used, so all I am doing is wasting time trying to accomplish what you have already accomplished for me: salvation. I am reminded of what You keep telling me over and over: You are best discovered when I am seeking You – not a better version of myself. You’re inviting me to an abundant life and I’m too busy toiling to accept. How do I turn from good behavior? Celebrate heart change. Enjoy God’s love and fellowship. Celebrate… enjoy… not “do it right”?

Good behavior works for a while, just as prodigal living (doing it all “wrong”) does. I think for me it has crashed in on itself and I am still trying to rebuild it and make it work somehow. It’s time to walk away from the ruins. Time to release myself and my family from good behavior and start chasing Jesus. I don’t know what this looks like, but I think a good place to start is asking myself as I make decisions and process events, “Am I chasing good behavior?” When my kids are fighting, “Am I chasing good behavior?” When my husband still has the light on at 1am, “Am I chasing good behavior?” When I lose my temper and then feel like a super-failure as a parent, “Am I chasing good behavior?”

Jesus, You came to set me free. You paid an unfathomable price to achieve for me something I can never achieve for myself: intimacy with God. Your Spirit joins with my spirit to affirm that I am God’s child (see Romans 8:16). You have already given me something far greater than I could achieve in a lifetime of good behavior.

Lies, #1

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I have believed a lie. Lots of them, actually. My therapist tasked me with writing them out and then writing out a corresponding truth from my heavenly father. I did this two years ago. Now, as He always does, God is taking me deeper, revisiting these lies and uprooting them. This will be the first of several posts sharing some of the lies I have believed and the truths God is offering me in exchange. Most of the lies originated in childhood, when I internalized messages that are pretty ridiculous at face value, but they nonetheless took root in my heart. Perhaps you have been captive to some of the same lies.

Lie: All difficulty, pain, discomfort, sadness (basically anything not right and good) is preventable. A few examples: physical illness, mental illness, car accidents, making mistakes (burning food, damaging or breaking things, making messes, losing patience). Since these things are preventable, you should prevent them, you should never have to experience them, and if you do experience them it’s appropriate to blame yourself and/or someone else for the undesirable experience. There are no accidents. I could have a perfect life if I just did everything right.

Truth: “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by His grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus” Romans 3:23-24. “In this world you will have trouble” John 16:33. You are a sinner saved by grace. Expect brokenness. You are a broken person in a broken world, surrounded by other broken people, believing broken theology and living a very broken life. Why else would you need grace? If you could just do it right, or at least do it right if you received my help “correctly,” what would be the need for grace? Grace is unmerited favor. Expect pain, expect difficulty, and sickness and sadness, and mistakes, and expect my grace to be sufficient.

“For when I tried to keep the law it condemned me. So I died to the law – I stopped trying to meet all its requirements – so that I might live for God. My old self has been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. So I live in this earthly body by trusting in the son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I do not treat the grace of God as meaningless. For if keeping the law could make us right with God, then there was no need for Christ to die.” Galatians 2:19-21

Lord I confess I have rejected your sacrifice by trusting in good behavior. Lord let me be hungry for a Savior, not good behavior. Teach me to live in the freedom You have provided for me.

Indian Giver

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“For better or worse,” I said

And pledged myself to one man.

Then I went about creating better

By making him follow my plan.

 

Placing all my hopes in prince charming

I suddenly felt all alone.

I was focused on him and me

And had removed God from His throne.

 

To be a wife is impossible;

I can’t change him – or me – enough.

To trust in each other is foolhardy;

So one day God called my bluff.

 

The Truth brings clarity,

And when I could finally see,

I gave my husband back to God,

And God gave him back to me.