The Diversity Of Healthy Religion: What We Do With What We Know About God Is Important

Even in the year 2019, there are still people and groups of people; many, many, many, people, who believe in a God who can't wait to throw sinners into the fiery pit of hell, without much thought to the fact that they, too, are sinners.

They believe in a God of judgement; certainly not a Universal One who desires all to draw near and wake-up and see what was right before them all along; nor a fun-loving one with a good sense of humor.

What would be different if all embraced diversity within religion?  There would be no option but to realize that Everything Belongs.  There would be a true urge to gather those who don't feel like they belong into the fold.  Not by hitting them upside the head with threats of hell (unless you sign up and drink the Kool-Aid), or shaming them into believing (is that even possible?), but to actually share The Good News by showing what The Good News is.

Why do people need to feel that what they think or believe is the only way; the right way?

I find trying to be right and in control is exhausting!  It diverts our time into a "waste of time".  Time that could be spent in Micah 6:8-ing it:  "...do justice, and to love kindness, and walk humbly with your God".  It's kinda hard to be humble when you're fighting to be right.  "Being right is not enlightenment", as Richard Rohr says.

What we know about God is this:  God is Love (1 John 4:7-8, 1 John 4:19).  And what our  friend The Apostle Paul says about love is this:  Love is patient;  love is kind;  love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude.  It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful;  it does not rejoice in wrongdoing, but rejoices in the truth.  It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.  Love never ends.  (1 Corinthians 13:4-8a)

As far as I know, Paul wasn't telling people to only love certain people (and, even though this particular passage is used frequently in wedding ceremonies, it wasn't written for that purpose).  Heck, one of Paul's most important theologies was that people, through Christ (might I throw in the concept of The Universal Christ), are no longer contained within whatever box they'd been put into by society!  So, take "Jew", "Greek", "Man", "Woman", "Slave", "Master", etc., from the year 50-ish CE/AD and insert out current boxes from the year 2019 CE/AD:  "Citizen", "Illegal Alien" (he used that one too, I think), "Straight", "LGBTQIA", "Republican", "Democrat", "Churched", "Unchurched", "Senior Citizen", College Student", and, yeah, "Christian", "Jew", "Muslim", Aetheist", etc., etc., etc., how can we read these passages and not get it?

We waste our time defending our corner of the sandbox and  screaming at others that they are wrong, instead of going out and finding new friends on the playground.  I use a childish analogy because we are being childish.  Not in the good way of "little children" as in, only those who see as "little children" will get into the Kingdom of Heaven, but in the unreasonable, temper tantrum way of spoiled rotten brats.

Mrs. B

Let's Get REAL

Old Age Ain't No Place for Sissies:  Redoux

Many years ago, as I was edging towards the age of fifty but still had a comfortable buffer of four years before I actually hit that milestone, I wrote a blog post which I called “Old Age Ain’t No Place for Sissies”; the title of which I borrowed from a famous quote by the actress Bette Davis.  Of all the glamorous Hollywood actresses of the 1930s and 1940s, I always had an affinity for Bette because she just seemed so comfortable in her own skin (or at least I made that assumption based on her own words).  And, those words were incredibly spot-on, old age isn’t a place for sissies; for those who constantly bewail “Why me?”, for the thin-skinned, for the faint of heart.  I’d written that particular post because I’d been struggling with certain side effects of aging; namely, those that typically rear their ugly and volatile heads in women at the on-set of menopause.  I’d been sharing these thoughts with Mark, and he’d done his level best to assure me that I was still very much a woman, and a good-looking one in his eyes. “And shouldn’t that be all that matters?” he asked me somewhat plaintively.  “Well, yes, well, no, well, crap I don’t know! I’m going through menopause don’t ask me questions with obvious answers!”

The conversation, which had been going thus:

“I’m old!”

“You’re not old!”

“I’m ugly!”

“You’re not ugly!”

“I’m fat!”

“You’re not fat!” (aside; Mark tells me if I die before him, my gravestone will read “Here lies Amy.  She was NOT fat!”)

ended with him asserting in the most loving fashion possible that I wasn’t “creepy”. He meant crepey, as in crepe-paper skin; and this malapropism resulted in such considerable hilarity that I had to blog about it.

Anyway, despite what I wrote in that blog post all those years ago, things such as:

“It’s a wise woman who comes to grips with their body as they age, because spending a life in abject misery, constantly dieting and throwing money away on surgeries (that may result in one looking like a psycho blow fish and thus gathering more pity and ridicule than would have resulted had one just left nature well enough alone); ain’t worth it!”

“One other positive thing about getting older is the treasure trove of life stories.  Oh, I do hope that everyone who is reading this is in a position to understand what I am talking about and has some of these memories!  Ones of adventures, of events that possibly you’ve never shared with anyone, not even your best friend.  Ones that still make you curl your toes in delight and satisfaction.  Ones that, when you are truly in your dotage, you can sit and remember them and cackle in enjoyment at their recollection while those around you nod and smile and think to themselves, “Poor Auntie, she’s really gone around the bend now!”  Oh, if they only KNEW!”

“I think it’s important to realize that older doesn’t always mean wiser.  In order for that to occur, you must truly know yourself.”

the truth is, I continued and continue to struggle with both the outward appearances of aging and the corresponding, close on its heels guilt I feel for being so shallow.  In fairness to me and others who are tormented by this, it’s mightily both compounded and reinforced by the obsession our current age has with youth and beauty; heck, even our cell phone camera apps have a wide variety of filters to apply to your selfie to “soften you up” (not that I am familiar with these; oh, ok, we’ll not add blatant lying to my list of character foibles!)  Many of us, it seems, routinely berate ourselves for being, well, ourselves.

Not too long ago, I came across this meme on Pinterest; I think it sums up the situation rather aptly.

God Affirms:  “You’re NOT Creepy!”

This has been troubling me so much of late that I ended up sharing my struggles with a Spiritual Director last month.  She’d helped me considerably two years before when I’d been in angst over not wanting to climb back onto the hamster wheel by taking on too much volunteer work at church, yet, I felt guilty over saying “no” to God.  She’d listened to me, given me several scripture verses to read, study, and meditate on; and advised me to spend the rest of the day in nature with God, or taking a nap with God; to think of myself being held by God.  Not too long into this, I had this thought pop into my head, “There is nothing wrong with your heart, Amy”.  There’s more to it, but, I immediately felt relieved.  God knew.  God knows.  So, no reason not to believe I might have a similar experience regarding the whole self-image/aging thing.  Admittedly I felt a bit, well, ridiculous telling the Spiritual Director that, with all the things I could (and maybe should) be concerned about, the thing I wanted direction on was how I looked.  Yet once again she listened, offered scripture and insight, and sent me on my way to spend time with God. This time, God basically told me to knock it off, to stop talking smack about myself to myself, because it was getting in the way of what He has in mind for me to do.  That came mostly from meditation on Isaiah 55:9-14, but also in conjunction with a lot of reading I’ve been doing of late about finding our True Selves in God, and “dying” to our False Selves.  I get that this may sound a bit “out there”, but, if you spend any time delving into any of The Christian Mystics and Contemplatives (e.g., Richard Rohr, Thomas Merton, St. Francis of Assisi, St. Clare, St. Catherine of Siena, etc., etc.) this stuff starts to rub off on you because it makes so much sense. 

Shortly after meeting with the Spiritual Director, the importance of truly embracing, of allowing, this virgin state acceptance of my so very not fresh-faced appearance became crystal clear.   Sometimes life’s lessons, or, messages from God, or reinforcements of messages from God if you’d rather, come to you in pretty funky ways; ways that, when you sit back and muse over how it all played out, there’s just no mistaking that it WAS a nudge (or maybe even a hearty shove) from The Three-In-One. 

Up Next:  

A Messenger in the Mall in the Manifestation of Mr. Mikey

Mrs. B

He'll Meet You Wherever You Are

Note:  This is a consolidated re-posting of a series I wrote three years ago about our return to God. Today marks 5 years since we first walked into the doors of our church, Harvest United Methodist in Lakewood Ranch, FL.  It seemed fitting to share (again) today.

Two years ago today, my husband and I walked into a church for the first time for both of us (save for weddings, baptisms, and funerals) in over thirty years.  It’s something that still amazes us now; that we did this, especially in light of the fact that, up to this point of time when we made the decision to go, we’d never talked about God, or Jesus, or religion for any length of time at all.  Yes, we met via an online Christian dating company (eHarmony), and, yes, there were some spiritual questions that we answered as part of that process, but, it wasn’t something we spent time discussing during our first meeting, or subsequently.  We figured we were pretty darn lucky that we’d been matched up and that was about it. 

When we moved to Florida many years later, we were in the process of making some changes; many major, others slight.  I am coming to understand, in hindsight, that it is the small changes that have the potential to add up to something big.  What were some of the smaller changes?  We’d decided to be open to meeting new people, especially our neighbors.  Neither one of us are the most extroverted of souls, so, this really was a challenge, even if it seemed easy enough to do.  This meant saying "Hi" to people, talking to people, not doing the avert eyes thing when someone came towards us out on the street, all of that.  We also decided to get involved, somehow.  

Not too long after we moved in, our neighbor across the street approached us when we were out walking our dog (and since we’d decided to try and talk to people, we didn’t attempt to avoid her) and, after a few minutes of chit chat, asked us in a very friendly way if we’d found a church yet (she knew that we’d moved from another state).  I’m sure we gave her that sort of glassy eyed look of those who really don’t want to be standing on the street discussing something that we’d never even discussed amongst ourselves.  Truthfully, I can’t remember what we told her other than it might have been something like “No, we haven’t”.  End of statement.  She went on  to invite us to go to church with her and her husband one Sunday; something I’m sure, again, we politely made noises like “Maybe” and “Thanks” but with zero intention of ever doing so. All in all this was not a major encounter, and, she did not pester us about it, however, in hindsight, it was a small seed that had been planted; her invitation made us think about it.  Church.  Church.  Maybe this would be one way to get involved in the community and, what?  Garner clients for our new and fledgling business?  Perhaps. 

In any event, a few weeks later, a local toss away paper called The Observer (which is delivered to our driveway every Thursday whether we want it or not) ran an advertisement of sorts about a message series one of the local churches was doing.  I remember thumbing through this publication one night  and seeing the church's ad, “When Christians Get It Wrong”.  I quickly went past it, continued to glance at the rest of the paper, then, turned back to it.  I read the rest of the ad and realized that the series was centering on all the things that give Christians a bad reputation; you know  liked being judgmental, unforgiving, pious, holier than thou, disapproving of divorce, abortion, homosexuals, other religions, you name it.  In all honesty, probably the primary reasons why I’d stayed out of church for the past thirty years.   

Prior, I’d voluntarily attended a Lutheran church and been baptized and confirmed in it when I was a teenager, and yet,  I’d walked away for no real reason.  Probably, it just didn’t stick because I was a young girl who had other things on my mind than being a good Christian young lady.  Meaning no disrespect to my parents, I had very little support or encouragement from them to either remain involved with the church or  to have a relationship with God.  So, leaving didn’t seem like a big deal, and it wasn’t .

Unfortunately, there were plenty of people around me in the ensuing years who discouraged me from entering into a relationship with Him; either those who were influential in my life who refused to believe that He existed  OR (and actually probably worse) those who did believe, but were so strident about it that it totally turned me off.  Looking back, I see now that I wanted to believe, but I just couldn’t bring myself to be in a relationship with a God I thought  was hateful, prejudiced, biased, didn’t forgive, and probably didn’t want a relationship with me, anyway, because I’d really screwed up a few things in my life.     

Finally it simply became my habit not to think overly much about God; however, I never didn’t believe in Him, if that makes any sense.  

When my stepmother passed away in March of 2011, I recall calling my older sister and talking to her about her death.  I was, quite understandably, very upset and very emotional.  I was crying and I remember my sister asked me, “Do you believe in Jesus”?  I was gulping for air and I said I did; but, frankly, I was later mad at her for bringing Jesus up at a time like this.  Why?  Because I thought that she was doing so not because she really wanted me to know and love Jesus, but because she wanted to convert me.  Later, she did a few more things that totally pissed me off so that I found myself thinking “Ha, some Christian she is!” The thing is; her questions? They were another seed.

So, back to the message series at the local church (which turned out to be Harvest United Methodist). I showed the paper with the advertisement from the church  to my husband.  I told him this church was literally five minutes away from us and what did he think?  Didn’t it look interesting?  He took it, read it, and without hesitation said, “Sure, we can go if you want”. I don’t remember what day that was; it may have been a Friday, because we began discussing if we should go that coming Sunday.  We initially decided to go, but by Saturday night, I was already having second thoughts about the whole thing.  I mean, SUNDAY?  That’s tomorrow!  I don’t know, maybe I don’t want to do this? 

One of the great things about my husband is, he’s not a pusher.  Ok, maybe he wasn’t sure, either; come to find out he had his own very personal reasons for avoiding church, but, when I got cold feet, he didn’t argue with me.  So, we did not go that Sunday but I just couldn’t get that message series out of my head.  I WANTED to know what they were going to say.  I wanted to believe that there were people who believed in God who were not judgmental.  And, there was also the whole “getting to know people” thing that we’d promised each other we’d do.  And, in all honesty, I was beginning to wonder what exactly I was going to do with the second part of my life, now that I’d seemingly “done it all”.  So, I next told him I thought we should go to their Thursday night service.  An hour, was all.  Maybe it wouldn’t be very crowded, either; we wouldn’t have to deal with a lot of people and if we didn’t  go back, not that many folks would have seen us there.  I’m serious; this is what was running through my mind when we decided to try to go that coming Thursday! 

This time, we went.  Thursday September 29^th 2011.  A bright, sunny afternoon and the parking lot at the church was relatively empty (whew, I thought).  We walked up to the doors of the church and before we reached them, they were thrown open by a man and a woman with big smiles on their faces.  “Welcome to Harvest!”, they said.  We were both a bit taken aback by their cheerfulness but (when we reflected on it later), it was genuine. It was pretty quiet inside the gathering area of the church; only a handful of other people there.  The lady, Nancy, asked us if this was our first time at Harvest because I’m sure all first time people have the same look in on their faces that we did; a mixture of uncertainty, shock, deer in the headlights, and resolve.  Yes, yes, we said and we spent a few moments with them telling them about us and why we were there (the draw of the message series).  They themselves were not attending that evening’s service but were helping out with one of the children’s ministries.  They introduced us to the youth minister/music coordinator and off we went with him.  From there, we happened to meet Steve, one of the Pastor, and chatted with him a bit before heading in for the service. 

One of the things I remember the most about that evening, other than who we met, was my doggedness in refusing to take communion.  I told my husband that I wasn’t ready to do that and I felt it would be fake to get up there and take communion when I’d not set foot in  a church for 30 years.  Not that I felt my husband was being fake by deciding to do so; it was a very personal feeling.  That evening’s message centered on  when Christians say the wrong thing.  Oh, boy.  Catherine, the other Pastor led the service and I remember being extremely nervous and uncomfortable, but at the same time, totally interested in what she had to say.  Lastly, one of the songs sung that night was one I’ve come to love called “Cry Out to Jesus” by Third Day and the line that stuck with me all the entire night was “He’ll meet you wherever you are”.  

After that first evening at Harvest, this is what I recorded in my journal:

“Went to church for the first time in ~ 30 years tonight. I saw an ad in a local paper for this church, Harvest Methodist.  They’re doing a sermon series addressing many of the areas about church/religion/organized religion that I’ve had problems with.  So, we decided to try it and it wasn’t awful.  Frankly, I think it’s a good place to start to re-explore…what?  My faith?  Not sure I’ve ever had any.  To find something?  That is probably more like it.  Certainly, it’ll be a way to get to know people, at the very least.  All I know is this.  I have to do something different.  I can’t live my life looking forward only to vacations and getting pissed off when things don’t go right (or my way).  I‘d like to be a nicer, kinder person, certainly, a better wife.  Well, we’ll see.  We went, and I think we’ll go back next Thursday”.

And we did go back the following Thursday (eventually switching to one of the Sunday services); and the rest, as they say, is history!

From weekly worship to gradually becoming involved in multiple Bible studies and other ministries, to volunteering to serve communion once a month to supporting other church activities, the two of us have most decidedly found a church home.  Not that it’s all been easy because at times it’s been very painful facing ourselves, some of the things we’ve done (or not done), and forgiving other people who we thought we’d never be able to forgive.

It’s also been a challenge interacting with people from our lives who, if not thinking we’ve gone totally off the deep end, are, at the very least, indulging us with symbolic pats on our backs and a “There, there, there; if it makes you happy, I’m happy for you!” Still harder for me has been what to say to THEM.  It’s true; those who are on fire for God, who’ve recently joined The God Squad; want to spread the word; want others to understand and feel the same way.  However, over time, I am learning that this is not really my job or responsibility;  I mean, I can share what I feel called to share, but in the end, it’s up to them what they chose to do with it.  I’ll leave that up to God and these individuals to work it out (or not).

I’m in the middle of a study now where the author is discussing how there can really be no transformation (in a person’s life) without there first being a revelation.  When I look back on all that’s occurred in the past two years, and, most importantly, meditate on who Amy was then versus now, I can see how all these little changes here and there have added up to a transformation. 

A while ago, a dear friend of mine, whom I was associated with in the years I was married to my first husband and therefore I was then not in any way, shape or form associated with God, asked me the following:

Amy, how did you get to the point you are right now spiritually? I know I'm on my way, but you seemed to get it right away. Maybe I am just too negative of a person. Any suggestions?

Ok, the fact she was asking ME this question in and of itself is pretty rocking amazing!  Here is what I said, and it’s what I’d say to anyone desiring a closer relationship with God:

Wow, what a question and a great one, too. I think the fact you are asking the question is a wonderful testament to your desire to grow in your faith. It's so interesting that you asked me this NOW, because I'm in the middle of a new study at church where we've been reflecting on exactly this; where we are today vs. "before". I think for most of us, as with most things, change/growth simply does not happen overnight. It begins with small adjustments and tweaks we make that at the time may not seem like much, but, when we look back, we can begin to see how they've built upon one another and grown to the point where we eventually are changed in significant ways. The author of the book explained it this way; "It's like watching a tendril of ivy as it starts out. If you stare at it, it doesn't do much, but if you go back every week or so to check its progress, you can see its growth. And, when you look at it a year or two or three later, it's totally taken over the wall". Speaking for me now, this was the right time for me to be planted. It's not that I never had the opportunity before to embrace God, I just chose not to. Two years ago was my time and I desired it. I think that's the most important thing. A person has to desire it. No amount of someone trying to coax you into it will help (I'm learning that, too!) YOU need to be ready. I am extremely blessed in that my husband was as eager as I to begin this journey. That's not to say someone cannot do this if their significant other (or family/friends) aren't coming along because I've met plenty of folks who attend church and yet their families do not. It's just easier, is all. Also, we found THE BEST church and church family. I can't stress how important this has been for us. THE BEST in every possible way. We walked in and have never left. For two people that hadn't been to church (save for life events) in 30 years, that's incredible in and of itself. If you haven't already, find a church where you feel at home. And GO. Yes, of course life happens and we can't always attend, but, try to go. Also, get involved in and with The Word. Go to Sunday School. Join a  Bible study or join another team that speaks to your talents. Attend some of the special events your church might put on, like Advent or Good Friday services. Serve. Help out at events, offer to serve communion. Join a ministry team. All of this, little by little, bit by bit, opens your heart, mind and soul to receive God's Word and do His will. And PRAY PRAY PRAY PRAY PRAY. However and whenever you can. Everyone does this in their own way and there is no wrong way. Even if all you do at first is recite The Lord's Prayer or read Psalms or recite back scripture you may have memorized, it's all praying/talking to God. One of our Pastors has a fantastic model to follow for growing in faith which he encourages all of us to try. 40.20.10. Be in worship 40 weeks out of the year. Read the Bible 20 days of the month. Pray 10 minutes per day. It's easy to remember and very doable. And remember, Christ desires perseverance, not perfection. Some days will still be not very good days; sometimes your attitude may not be what you want it to be. That's ok. Keep trying! As our other Pastor says, "Just. Keep. Swimming!" The fact that you are asking ME this question is just another wonderful example of how God works. 

  

And the revelation that had to occur before any of my transformation occur?  It came in the form of a toss away newspaper that I didn’t even look at most of the time.  God revealed Himself to me in a message series that spoke to MY heart; that addressed all of my excuses for not going to church; for not opening the door to a relationship with Him.  

God met me where I was, and He led me home. 

Mrs. B

Rescued in Silence

“Be still and know that I am God…”

Psalm 46:10a (NRSV)

Whenever I see a couple who are obviously in the throes of new love, my heart both melts with happiness for them and twinges a bit for my going-on 12 year marriage.  I find myself thinking back to the days when my husband and I first met; those wonderful weeks and months of discovering one another. During that time, I remember noticing one night (while we were vacationing in Charleston), a couple eating at the same restaurant we were who ate their entire meal without saying one word to one another.  Being giddy with passion, I assured myself that we would never become like “that couple”.  But of course, years later, our relationship has mellowed.  Considerably.

Being a new Christian is a lot like falling in love.  Everything around you seems new; the world is a joyous place, everyone is your friend, and all you want to do is share your happiness and elation with everyone. Some look at you and either smile; glad for you and perhaps remembering their own similar feelings, or frown; wondering if you’ve gone off the deep end and if you’ll ever return to the way you were before. 

As “wise old marrieds” will counsel their younger counterparts, romantic relationships will change over time. Yes, you’re in love now and hopefully always will love one another, but times might get tough; there will be challenges, disagreements, and disappointments.  But, there will also be joy, great joy; and you’ll experience all of these moments and emotions with one another as  you grow in relationship together.

Similarly, our relationship with Christ evolves and grows.  Many of us likely start off running like a horse out of the gate, exuberant with our new found belief, desiring to tell all, to help all, to do all.  Sooner or later though, we’ll hit some challenges.  We’ll discover that making the decision to follow Christ does not equate to living on easy street; in fact, quite the contrary.  Life will continue to throw at us disappointments, hurts, and perhaps tragedies.  We may find ourselves at odds with fellow Christians over matters of theology or the administration of a ministry at church.  We may find ourselves longing for days when our passion was new.  We may find our faith shaken over and over again.  We may get discouraged and want to give up. 

As couples experiencing challenging times in their relationships may often remember their halcyon days and find in those memories the strength to persevere despite arguments and brokenness, it’s in the midst of trying times when Christians can likewise renew their strength of heart by remembering all that God has provided for us in the past, and draw from these truths  the promise and guarantee that He is with us in the present and will be there in the future; He who meets us wherever we are on our path of faith, but loves us too much to leave us there.

“You have done many things for us, O Lord our God; there is no one like you!  You have made many wonderful plans for us.” Psalm 40:5 (GNB)

“When I thought, ‘My foot is slipping”, your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up.  When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer me soul.” Psalm 94:18-19 (NRSV)

“Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually.  Remember the wonderful works he has done, his miracles, and the judgements he has uttered.” Psalm 105:4-5 (NRSV)

“On the day I called, you answered me, you increased my strength of soul.” Psalm 138:3

And as for “that couple” in Charleston; I’ve come to realize that, for all I know, I really didn’t know their story.  They might have been giving each other the silent treatment after a knock down drag out argument on the way to the restaurant.  Or, they could have been tired from a long day of sightseeing and were content to eat their meal without expanding the energy to drudge up something to say.  Or, they may have been one of those couples that were able to talk to one another or not, just being in one another’s presence was enough.  In any case, they were together and perhaps that was all they needed at that moment in time.

Sometimes resting in Christ’s presence, grace, love, and strength; silently anticipating what is next, is all that we need, too.

“I know what it is to have little, and I know what it is to have plenty.  In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being well-fed and of going hungry, of having plenty and of being in need.  I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:12-13 (NRSV)

He who rescued us from so deadly a peril will continue to rescue us; on him we have set our hope that he will rescue us again. 2 Corinthians 1:10 (NRSV)

Mrs. B

From Now Until Forever from Now

Not sure where I'm heading with this but here goes....

Why?

I dodged God, religion, church, and most especially Jesus, for well over 30 years.  Unlike my husband, who experienced a similar aversion for a similar period of time, I couldn’t point to any particular reason why; why I walked out of church one Sunday morning in the late spring of 1981 and never went back.  Why I chose to leave a church family who had nurtured me through my teenage years; through a long series of confirmation classes, who witnessed my Baptism at 16 and my confirmation a few months later.  Why, for the next three decades, I thought I was in control of my life and could handle anything that was thrown at me without either turning to God for comfort or to a body of believers for support and sustenance. And as God and a few others who understand me well know, there were certainly many times over those years that I could have used it. Or, a good talking to; a gentle, loving, but assertive rebuke of and accountability for my behavior, actions and where I was (or wasn’t) heading spiritually. 

And Then

Later, I’d come to believe that there was no “why”.  There was no plausible reason.  I was 17 years old, I had other things on my agenda, and it appeared the whole “God Thing” just hadn’t stuck.  I was heading to college in the fall.  I had the entire summer ahead of me that for the most part would be spent with my boyfriend and friends engaging in behavior that was not something I wanted God to know about.  And then, I was in college.  And then I was 21 and having way too much fun being way too irresponsible.  And then I was in the midst of embarking on my first real job.  And then I was meeting my first husband (who was decidedly NOT into God).  And then I was climbing the corporate ladder.  And then I was divorcing.  And then I was in my late 30s living alone with two cats.  And then.  And then.  There were a lot of “and thens” over the course of those 30 years.

Dark and Drastic

And then, I ended up in a really awful place in the fall of 2001 and although the tragedy of 9/11 did not help matters, I cannot blame the events of that day for where I was.  The last few months of that year and the first few of the following were especially dark days.  Who hasn’t had these?  We all have.  As a result of  my “those days”, I ultimately made a decision that would drastically change my life.  “Drastically” sounds like a bad thing, but in my case,  one must think of the word “drastic” more in terms of a major shake-up of the way things were.  Had it not been so significant, I’d still be where I was.  I needed to move; literally and figuratively, and the only way to get me off the wheel I was on and out of the cage I was in, was to do something drastic.  And so I did.  With a lot of pre-planning, necessary both to make the plan work and to keep me from backing out, I eventually quit my job, went to Italy and took a total immersion course, returned to the states, moved myself from California to North Carolina, and found myself in February of 2004 wondering what was next.

Galatians 1:10

I underlined this verse months ago during our Covenant Bible Study Class.  It struck me at the time as important to remember; especially the last sentence.

Every time I flip past Galatians, I see that underlined verse, nod to myself and think, "Yes, yes, valuable stuff to keep in mind."

A series of events over the past few weeks have caused a range of troublesome emotions within me; all events having to do with people in situations where I most decidedly have felt a lack of their approval (or support).

When  this happens, I tend to fall back into the role of middle child, trying her best to mediate the issue while at the same time, trying to keep everyone happy...in all honesty...happy with me...and thus staying out of  trouble!

At 51, I hope I know enough by now to comprehend this is an exercise in futility!  And, I DO know it in my head, yet my heart is wounded nonetheless.  As a child, that wounded heart meant tears and fears.  As an adult, although the tears might still make a surprise appearance, the fears have advanced to bitterness, resentment, judgmental behavior and irritation boarding on anger.

Only with Mr. B do I feel free enough to share these emotions, and thankfully his heart is large enough that he doesn't judge me.  I think he understands why I may feel a certain way, although he's at a loss how to help me stop feeling this way.  Understandably, because it's not his responsibility, it's mine.

Today's Upper Room (devotion) was about looking for God's signs, His marks, that you are on the right path.  I've felt a decided lack of direction in my faith-journey of late.  All that I am involved in, well, it is starting to feel a lot like an over abundance of Kitchen Service.  Many frustrations, not a lot of joy.  But, I think God put a sign on my trail this morning when I yet again stumbled on Galatians 1:10.  This time, I took a moment to stop and really read the entire verse.  And, it clicked.

"Am I now seeking human approval, or God's approval?"  

A question.  A good  question.  A most important question!!!

I have spent way too much time in  my life seeking the approval of people; trying to please them, and then ending up troubled when I feel that I have somehow failed to do so.  What I have failed in is my motives.  Rather than trying to please people, or obtain their approval, all that I do (and I mean all) should be with the intent and desire to  please God, to serve my Lord. Because if following Christ, being a Disciple of Christ, means to emulate Him, to be "God with skin on", then it stands to reason that people will also be served, according to His will. Those who are not pleased are no longer anyone I needed approval from in the first place. Even those who are approving; well, that's a nice but unnecessary by-product. 

I have a servant's heart.  My problem has been in my attempts to serve people rather than Christ. Sometimes the difference is a  fine line to the observing eye;  yet, it's a huge chasm in the heart that is wounded by human disapproval, lack of gratitude, and ungracious behavior. However, if the desire is to serve Christ, His approval is all that is needed.  Hurtful human behavior can be forgiven and forgotten and any gratefulness is merely the icing on the cake.  

Really pondering that last sentence was also eye (heart)  opening.

"If I were still pleasing people, I would not be a servant of Christ."

Not.  As in, can't be.  It is one or the other.  PERIOD.

And this is a realization that brings humility and repentance.  A heart that aches not for me, but for my Savior that has done everything for me while I have stood by and done so little for Him.  And what I have done has not always, no, not nearly enough, been for the right reasons.  

To serve Him. To seek His approval and trust that everything will fall into place; that those feelings of hurt, fear, bitterness and anger will fall away from me leaving nothing but peace in their wake.

Mrs. B

Genesis 28:15

There is so much evidence of God's promises to us in this verse.

"I am with you and will keep you wherever you go"; whatever is going on, good, bad, scary, ugly, happy.  God with us.  Emmanuel.  

There is peace and comfort in believing God's eternal promise to be present with us, and with those whom we love.  With so many loved ones and friends lately facing extremely difficult situations, it has been reassuring indeed for me  knowing that God is with them and will keep them safe, close, and protected wherever they go, through whatever trial they are enduring. 

"And will bring you back to this land" refers to God vowing to Jacob (soon to be renamed “Israel”) that He will return him to the Promised Land at some point.  I believe that God will bring us all of his children back to where they need to be, when the time is right.  God was with me, even when I turned my back on him for over 30 years (as a child does at times to a parent).  He stood steadfast, waiting for me to turn back around and He led me back home.

"I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you."  This is the ultimate promise. God won't leave.  "I will not leave you" are powerful words to speak and to receive.  I think about Stephen Ministers and other people with the gift of care; who walk alongside those facing difficult times, who offer the gift of their presence no matter what the situation. 

Who are they but God with skin on?   

Mrs. B

I Never Fly Solo

For the past several weeks, I have been participating in a small group study at church focusing on prayer as a way to intentionally listening for God in the midst of all the hub-bub in our lives and discerning what He may be telling us.  This six-week study is entitled,  “Listen:  Praying in a Noisy World” by Rueben P. Job; and each session has highlighted a different, and in some cases new to all of us, method of prayer (referred to as a "prayer practice").

This past week’s  prayer practice was to read through the assigned chapter, which includes scripture, quotes from the author and other spiritual writers and a story that ties everything together; and to each day, underline words and phrases from that day’s reading that reminded us of the assurance of God’s love.  Finally, we were encouraged to transcribe those words and phrases onto an index card or stickee note and carry it with us throughout the day.

At the end of the week, I had a collection of seven stickee notes.  Today, while preparing for tonight’s class, I looked at all of the notes and realized they told a story, my story. So, I wrote them down, did a bit of re-arranging and word-smithing, and arrived at the following amazing and personalized affirmation.*  

I Never Fly Solo

I am God’s beloved child and I will live as a child of God.

I never fly solo.

Beloved is the name by which God knows me and the way He relates to me.

Faithful love surrounds me because I trust the Lord.

I am God’s.  God transforms me.

I never fly solo.

I will trust the teaching I have treasured in my heart.

The Lord will guide me continually and He will rescue me.

I never fly solo.

I will transform the world where I am as I focus my mind on God’s knowledge.

Wisdom will be given to me if I ask, but I must chose to listen to God’s voice.

I never fly solo.

I must learn to live each day as an opportunity to make everything new.

I will remember and reflect on God’s love and that I am saved by God’s grace because of my faith.

I never fly solo.

I will move forward in my life as a follower of Christ, listening to His voice saying to me, “I have a gift for you and I can’t wait for you to see it!”

The world of my past is gone.

I never fly solo.

Mrs. B

*Although this was arranged by Mrs. B, all words, phrases and scripture versus (Common English Bible) were derived from “Listen:  Praying in a Noisy World” by Rueben P. Job Copyright 2011.

Love God = Respect

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.”  Deuteronomy 6:5

Love God.  Sounds easy enough, especially given the careless way these days the word is tossed out. You know what I’m talking about:  “I just love those shoes!” “I’m loving this weather!” “She’s so easy to love, she’s so adorable!” or, “Love ya, girlfriend!”

Of course, anyone in any sort of meaningful relationship; marriage or partnership; parents (or step-parents) or grandparents; siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins; friends, neighbors and church family; knows that love is not simple.  It requires the opposite of careless.  It can require more, sometimes, than we think we are capable of giving, perhaps even more than we really are capable of giving.

For me, loving God is what I must do in order to be able to truly love others.  Loving God has to come first, because it’s the power I receive from that loving relationship that gives me the strength I need to love others in my daily life.

So what does loving God entail? 

I tend to think of my relationship with God in terms of a parental relationship; for example, what, as a child, was required of me in my relationship with my mother and father (or other parental figures or people in authority such as teachers).  And, like my interactions with these individuals has, my relationship with God evolves over time; deepens and matures with knowledge and understanding.

When I was nine or ten, a friend and I tampered with the US mail.  A neighbor was out of town for several weeks and my friend’s mom was responsible for picking their mail up and putting it into their house.  One day, she sent my friend to do it, and I tagged along.  Full of the logic of a young girl, my friend said, “Let’s open it up, maybe there is a love letter in here somewhere!”  So, right then and there, standing at their mailbox, she tore into the three or four envelopes she was holding, only to discover there was nothing juicy whatsoever; only a bunch of bills.   Sighing, she said, “Oh well!” and thrust the opened mail at me and darted off, leaving me standing there with my mouth open and the evidence of our wrong doing lying limply in my hands. Feeling helpless and certain that this was not a good situation to be in, I decided to throw the mail into the storm drain.  Afterwards, I rushed off after my friend, hoping we’d not be found out.  For the next three weeks, this deed hung over my life and I worried and fretted that I was going to get into big trouble.  Of course, this is what eventually happened.  The neighbor received late notices for bills they had never received.  They asked my friend’s mom if she’d perhaps mislaid some of their mail.  She became suspicious and asked my friend who immediately sang like a canary.  My parents were informed of my role in the mess and, yes, I got into big trouble.  In addition to a (rare) spanking, I was required to go over to the neighbor and apologize.  My parents also decided that I would be grounded for three weeks; and by grounded, this meant that, other than for meals, going to school, and the necessary bathroom runs, I was to stay in my bedroom.  For.  Three.  Weeks.  And my friend?  She was not allowed to go outside to play for one day.

As unfair as that may seem, I wasn’t really that upset about my punishment.  Although I had not actually been the one to open the mail, I had not done the right thing with the evidence.  What I should have done was go directly to my mom and tell her what happened.  Peer pressure, of course, kept me from doing the right thing; I didn’t want my friend to think I was a baby.  Actually, I was relieved that the other shoe had finally dropped and I could sleep without waking up in the middle of the night worrying or look at my mother again without feeling terribly guilty.  Although my three weeks in confinement may have seemed harsh to others, I vaguely recognized then (and certainly know now some 40 years later) that my mom and dad didn’t sentence me without long and deliberating thought and conversation.  They wanted me to learn from this experience so that I would think twice before doing something so foolish again to be sure, but also to remember that I must always go to them in times of trouble and uncertainty.  Truthfully, I believe they were more concerned that I carried that heavy load of guilt for three weeks than they were by what I’d done (or been an accomplice to, at any rate).  This experience taught me a lot about respect; respect for others, respect for authority, and respect for myself.

  

When I think about my relationship with God, I am reminded of that episode in my life, and the connection of  “love” and “respect”; especially to those in authority.  And who else has the ultimate authority over my life but God?  Loving God means respecting God, and respecting God means offering my presence, trusting Him as I release my burdens and wrongdoings, seeking forgiveness and guidance, and following His instructions; trusting that He has the best intentions for me; that He has my back.

“For surely I know the plans I have for you, says the Lord, plans for your welfare and not for harm, to give you a future with hope.  Then when you call upon me and come and pray to me, I will hear you.  When you search for me, you will find me; if you seek me with all of your heart.”  Jeremiah 29:11-13

Mrs. B