Wisdom in Fear

Proverbs 2:2-6

Make your ear attentive to wisdom,
Incline your heart to understanding;
³ For if you cry for discernment,
^[a]Lift your voice for understanding;
⁴ If you seek her as silver
And search for her as for hidden treasures;
⁵ Then you will discern the fear of the Lord
And discover the knowledge of God.

Lately my prayers have revolved much around wisdom.  Extremely difficult decisions have popped up in the last few weeks that threaten anxiety, rob me of joy, and make me lose sleep at night.  Being the coward that I am even the most benign of conflicts cause my chest to seize up and my stomach to drop.  With the stress of my current job and disappointment about particular aspects of my life there have been a few times where I have quite literally been brought to my knees, verbally crying out for wisdom and strength from the Lord; a good place to be, though very difficult.

Wisdom often seems an illusive thing, especially in terms of specific situations:  

Should I go after this job I know I would love but might not make enough money?  

Should I take a break from school to save a little money?  

Should I move?  

When seeking counsel objectivity is hard to find, for who among us can be truly objective?  Attempting to reason by your own counsel runs into the same problem, encountering emotion that causes great difficulty in separating what you feel from what you know to be right and true.  And latching onto this comes the panicked fear that if you make the "wrong" decision you will experience a fall from which there can be no recovery.

But I think that it is in the fear that the answer can be found.  Do I fear the future, the consequence of mistakes, the disapproval of others above all things, or do I fear the Lord?  In Proverbs we are told that the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.  When I first read this years ago I couldn't understand it.  Fear seems like such a negative principle, something we should not apply to a loving God, but as He has grown me in my faith, my idea of fear has grown as well.  This fear is the knowledge of His sovereign control over the events of the world, the understanding of just how big He is, and the realization that in spite of these things (along with our own insignificance) He cares for us.  The God Who created all things from nothing and Who could destroy all things by the mere force of His will has condescended to have a relationship with us, has chosen to be our Father.  This is the beginning of wisdom.

Specific decisions?  Still hard.  Conflict?  Not sure I will ever be able to handle it all that well.  But I can fear the Lord and trust Him to lead me because He is faithful even when I'm not.

Proverbs 3:5-6Trust in the Lord with all your heart And do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, And He will make your paths straight.

⁶ 

Embracing the Disappointment

Philippians 4:4
"Rejoice in the Lord always..."

Do you ever read scripture like this and, amidst feelings of guilt and frustration, just want to say "suck it, you don't know my life!"?  Have you ever rolled your eyes at a Christian platitude and wanted to literally punch the person talking in the face (again, amidst feelings of guilt and frustration)?  Have you ever shouted profanities in prayer that would make others blush and question your salvation?

I was talking to a friend tonight about not being where we wanted to be, about feeling like Israel stranded in the desert, about being angry with God.  In fact, I've had a few conversations about this topic recently; about being mad at the way life has worked out, about being bitter, about feeling guilty because we are bitter.  I've wrestled with God, asking Him why He hasn't given me certain things, why He has allowed me to face certain struggles, and then feeling guilty about my complaints, knowing what others suffer.  It seems to be a theme lately; discontentment, bitterness, numbness...

I don't have an answer.  I haven't been given a flood of peace that washes away all my anxieties and allowed me joyful contentment even whilst sinking beneath waves of stress and hurt.  The guilt I feel doesn't bring me back to reality as I consider how other suffer so much more than I do, how blessed I really am.  Rather, in a lot of ways I'm learning to embrace the pain.

I do such a fabulous job of hiding from it, of escaping into the stories I write or the shows and movies I watch and the books I read...but God has been yanking me backwards, making me aware of the ache that accompanies this life.  There was never a promise of satisfaction and paradise on this earth, never the comfort of total peace and comfort this side of heaven.  When God came down, He Himself was poor, a wanderer, an outcast, charged as the worst of criminals, beaten, and consumed with a wrath He did not deserve.  

The sin we brought into this world brings pain down upon us, and I think that sometimes we need to embrace it, allowing it in, drive us to our knees no matter how much it feels as if our prayers are bouncing off the ceiling.  It's tantamount to a fast: in our hunger we are reminded of how we ought to hunger for spiritual food, for the presence of God; in pain we must be reminded of the paradise we lost that Christ gained back.

Only in this can we be brought, slowly but surely, to rejoicing as Paul says in Philippians 4, only in this can we release the comforts of this world and long for the comforts that lay ahead.

"...again I will say, rejoice!"

Nothing to Say

I’ve got nothing much to say. 

We’re in May now, May of 2013.  I can’t believe the time has gone by so fast, that I’m nearly done with my second class at RTS, that summer is almost here, that so many things have happened.  I’ve written a lot, been disciplined to do so every week for a few months now, taken link up challenges, been encouraged by the blogosphere and by sweet friends, and hopefully I’ve gotten better. 

But right now I don’t have much to say. 

What do you write when you want to remain disciplined but can’t find words?  Do you verbally vomit on the page?  Do you make a list of events of the day, both mundane and extraordinary?  Do you attempt poetry? 

Sometimes I think it’s ok to just ramble a bit.  My life isn’t very exciting, I can’t give you sweet pictures of kiddos or tell a dramatic engagement story, but I love to write, and I love to share what God’s teaching me, and I hope and pray that these things are an encouragement to others in some small way. 

But tonight I’ll just leave you with a song, one that came to mind when I was trying to decide what to post, one that I absolutely love, and I’ll cut myself short, be quiet a moment, and just listen.

Who I Am

I almost didn't post today.  For the last few months I've been pretty good about having my writing scheduled out so that even when school got busy I could just throw it up easy peasy.  But lately, things have been hectic at work, taking on the receptionist job along with my human resources duties, and at home where I've been finishing my term paper and studying.  It hasn't been easy, and while on the one end I really enjoy the things I'm learning, on the other I'm exhausted...

I had a friend once ask me how that was possible because I didn't have any kids, and that really hurt.  It was as if the assumption was that I come home, slouch on the couch, and eat frozen dinners every night.  It rubbed in the fact that I haven't (yet?) been blessed with kids.  It belittled my tired.

It also socked me in the pride.

I have a problem when it comes to defining myself.  I am single, I am not a mom, I am a receptionist and administrative assistant, I am a bit of a geek... There's just one problem with these things.  They really aren't who I am.  Sure they are aspects of who I am, they are characteristics, but they do not define me, not ultimately.  If I allow myself to be defined by such things then my pride is easily injured, my aspirations often crushed, my mood darkened and embittered because I feel like a failure.  But if I view myself as what I really am, only then can I stand firm.

So who am I?  Galatians 4:6 says "Because you are sons, God has sent forth the Spirit of His Son into our hearts, crying, “Abba! Father!”  Genesis 1:27 says that I was created in His image.  Psalm 139 says that He knit me together in my mother's womb, that I am fearfully and wonderfully made.  This is who I am.  I belong to the God of the universe Who formed me with His hands, Who wrote my story, Who loves me even when I screw up because He suffered for my sin before I even committed it.  This is what I need to rest on, this is who I need to remember I am.

Verbal Murder

“Learn to read idiot, that’s not what he said.”

“Her short hair and dark eyebrows make her uglier than she normally is.”

“Planning to burn a cross in their yard? How ignorant can you be?”
I always make myself a promise, and I always break it. When reading articles online I inevitably make the mistake of reading the comments section down below. It’s utter foolishness on my part, because I know that what I will read will assuredly depress and anger me. People rip into each other with harsh words and little regard for logic in sorry attempts at debate. Part of me wants to laugh wondering, “Do you really think that calling someone a moron is going to open their ears or stop them?” And part of me just wants to cry.

Psalm 19:14

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Your sight, O Lord, my rock and my Redeemer.
But I’m no innocent by-stander, though certain things restrain me from name calling in the comments section of internet articles, I curse people in my mind, occasionally (more often than I would care to admit) deeming them idiots, morons, ignorant. Sure, no one hears that, I avoid hurting feelings, I’m able to participate in outwardly respectful debate, but that does not make me innocent. Though silent I am still tearing down my fellow man, still murdering them in my heart. More importantly, I am cursing a creature God has made, a creature He formed in the womb, a creature whose story He wrote and eternity He planned. “Silently” I offend the Holy God of the universe.
I don’t like to face this. I want everyone to believe that I’m pretty stinkin’ awesome. But in coming to grips with the sin in my own heart a few beautiful things can happen. This humbling realization allows me to view others with a grace I would not otherwise be able to see through, it allows me to love others in their failings with less self-righteousness than I might have before, it shows me just how amazing the grace of God is.

There is lots of discussion out there about certain types of people being hypocrites (especially in comments sections), specifically Christians. In a lot of ways I think this word is terribly misused and little understood, but I also think the term applies to everyone who has ever existed. If you are breathing on this planet, you’ve been a hypocrite at one point or another. The only real solution, the only real way to flee from this pitfall, is to confront your own sin and come face to face with the only One Who ever met the standards of righteousness and holiness. May our hearts be humbled that grace may abound.

Five-Minute Friday: "Friend"

Yet another Five-Minute Friday link up!  Forgive me if it sounds like mush, I've been writing a term paper this week and my brain is rather like smashed potatoes right now...

I’ve prayed for you since I was in the fifth grade; feeling out of place and awkward, feeling misunderstood and weak.  I prayed for a spouse, yes, but I also prayed for you, sweet friend, sister in Christ. 

My heart ached for that one who I could share laughter of ridiculous things, share embarrassing moments without fear, share the kind of prayers that can only take place between friends.

Tears, joy, goofy, nerdy excitement!

I prayed for you and God said “yes”.  How many times has He said “no”?  How many times have I not understood?  His promises are great, His gifts are kind, and He gave me you as a friend.

Like a missing half of a whole, the second puzzle piece, you are often the mouth of God to me, speaking His truth in love and mercy.

Shared tears, shared joys…shared wine! 

How can I tell you what you mean to me?  How many wounds your friendship has healed?  How happy I am to have been blessed with you. 

Sweet friend, how I cherish your wise words, your brutal honesty, your inappropriate jokes that always make me laugh on a cruddy day. 

Thank you.  That’s all I can really say.

Office Oddities

One thing I can say about my job without the slightest hesitation is that it’s given me many entertaining (Painful?  Embarrassing?  Terrifying?) stories.  From spilling the contents of the whole puncher all over the floor to rude solicitors to ridiculous questions (Random employee: "Why haven't I gotten my pay check?"  Me: "Did you maybe change your address?" Random Employee:  "Well...yeah."  Me: "Did you send us an e-mail to that effect?"  Random Employee:  "No."  Me (internal dialogue):  "I'm so sorry, my telepathy's on backorder..."), my job as a receptionist/administrative assistant has taught me a lot and given me many laughs.   

Today’s office oddity?  Having to literally unscrew a document in order to scan one of the pages.  Apparently, the company in question cares highly for the safety of the contents of said documents…

"After"

So, last week I did my first link up called Five Minute Friday.  My problem was that I misread the prompt the first time and wrote the wrong one.  When I realized my mistake I wrote the correct one and decided to post the first one this week...which worked out great because I have a term paper to write, a portfolio to complete, hogs to be fed...all that jazz, so read and enjoy!

***

Right now I’m in the after.  After rejection, after the “no”, after the relief.  It’s equal parts pain and grief.  In many ways I am happy to be here, happy to stay in Texas close to my family, happy to continue on with the local church that I’ve grown up with, happy to be in the house I prayed for, happy not to have to make tough decisions…but…

In many ways this after hurts.  It makes me feel lost.  As if I’m not enough.  It feels like a rejection of who I am and not just what I do.  It makes me cry out to God and ask for direction and wisdom, a verbal word.  I can’t see the bigger picture and I really, really want to.  This after does not feel fair.

But this after reminds me of the “yesess” amidst the “nos”.  No to my dream job; yes to a house; no to a new start, yes to three very good friends I know I’ve prayed for since junior high.  In this after I find myself blessed yet still longing, and realize that this is the promise of the world, the promise of the Lord.  Joy will be found on earth, but it will be mixed with longing for the ever after. 

And when the veil is drawn away, when the earth and it’s pain are gone, that’s when I will see the true happily ever after of fairy tales; one not mixed with despair and disappointment, one that will bring me face to face with the Savior, that will provide answers of solidity…the big picture, the explanation for this present “after…”

"Jump"

This is my first time trying a link up so bear with me.  The challenge is Lisa-Jo Baker's Five Minute Friday where you write for five minutes, no editing allowed.  Today's topic was "Jump".

***

"Jump!"

Standing at the edge of cold, wet concrete, the green water below looks so far down.  Countless others have done it before me, all successful, all safe and sound below.  No limbs broken.  Red marks from the slap of water acceptable wounds.

My heart is in my throat.  If I don't jump I'll look like a weenie.  That's the best word my seventh grade mind can come up with.  I'm a bit sheltered.  

"Jump!  Jump!"

The voices encouraging me bounce from wall to wall on the bridge.  The sound of cars overhead nearly drown them out.  A louder voice, one only I can hear insists that if I don't jump I won't be able to show my face again, I won't have a place among them, they won't be my friends.  As always I'll be on the outside of the circle, whispers of taunts floating around me, the words "weird" and "dork" echoing loud and clear...

"Jump!  Jump!"

I take a breath and step off into oblivion, the cool water shocking my senses as I plunge into the darkness.  I come up to cheers, to friends.  The voice is still there, still murmuring like the water lapping the concrete walls, but the other voices, solid and real, drown it out.    

The Harsh World in Which We Live

“What a harsh world you live in.”  Lord Grantham

“We all live in a harsh world, but at least I know I do.”  Tom Branson

About a month ago I got into Downton Abby.  Friends had been encouraging me for almost a year to watch the show and when I finally gave in I was hooked.  The dialogue above struck me immediately but as I had a few other blog posts lined up I delayed in writing about them.  I planned to write about the state of American culture, specifically in suburbia.  I’d planned to write on our talent at escapism, our self-medication, our worship of comfort and subsequent flight from pain.  I’d planned to talk about how easy it is for us in the U.S. to ignore, escape, numb ourselves against the difficulties of life by means of entertainment, drugs, and activity.  I wanted to encourage myself and others to face hardships with open eyes and flee from slipping into comfortable oblivion in which we avoid conflict and stop our ears to the cries of our own souls and those of others.

Then came Monday.  Stories of the explosions in Boston, images of bloodied runners and paramedics, the realization that someone I knew was in that race… Pain became difficult to ignore as the media flooded with information, heartache, horror.  I cried reading the story of the eight year old boy killed at the finish line, of the war veteran who assisted with the injured, remembering like echoes Sandy Hook, Virginia Tech,  the day the planes crashed into those buildings my sophomore year of high school…

***

 

“What’s going on in the world?”

 

“Things are getting worse and worse.”

 

“This makes me sick.”

 ***

We do hide ourselves so well from pain, but moments like this remind us that we can’t forever run from it, remind us of the harsh world we live in, of the universal effect of sin.  My heart breaks for Boston right now, but even in my horror I don’t think I feel the pain like I should.  The pain is over there, far away.  It’s their harsh world beyond the computer screen, past the radio waves, in Boston and this breaks my heart further still.  It’s easy for me to forget the harsh world in which I live, all too easy to stick my head in the sand and click to the next episode of a TV show on Netflix.  So I am praying for my numbed heart, for a greater compassion for that which feels far away, for a greater compassion for the groaning around me, and most of all for those right now in the midst of a horror I can’t imagine. 

Romans 8:26-27

26 In the same way the Spirit also helps our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we should, but the Spirit Himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words; 27 and He who searches the hearts knows what the mind of the Spirit is, because He intercedes for the [a]saints according to the will of God.

Living in the Longing

The bride is beautiful, but then she always is.  As the doors of the church open to reveal the girl in the white dress and immaculate hair at the other end of the aisle a smile fills every aspect of the groom’s face.  All rise in honor, most eyes focus in on one point, many hearts swell with uninterrupted joy…but some hearts find themselves breaking a little, some feel the sting of guilt as they wish themselves in her place, or at least a place similar to hers…

***

“If I ever get married-“

“When, when you get married.”

Cue internal eye rolling, obligatory thanks with accompanying smile.

*** 

I’m so happy for them, really I am, but dark thoughts crowd my mind, bumping together, insisting on my attention.  Why isn’t it me?  Am I being punished?  Will I always and forever feel like some sort of awkward planet orbiting around the very edge of the circle while others decide what category to put me in?  Am I just meant to be a third, fifth, seventh wheel?

***

“A friend of mine got married at forty, you’re still young, don’t worry!”

I do worry.  I don’t want to be forty when I get married.

“You’re desire is a good desire and God says He’ll give you the desires of your heart!”

Is that really what scripture teaches?  Really?

***

I should be thankful for what I have, count my blessings, trust in the God Who I know to be both good and sovereign, but it’s hard.  Sometimes suffocating.  Sometimes painful.  Often lonely.  Occasionally heartbreaking.  Periods of guilt mixed with longing come flashing through like waves I can’t beat back.  They throw me quite literally on my face in angry, tear-filled prayers.  I fight the lies that flood my head, I claw at the truths of scripture, I still hurt.

***

“In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; ‘I have overcome the world.’”  This truth echoes through my mind as I curl up in a lounge chair in the back yard of my parent’s house.  Out there, in the dark, far from glaring city lights, stars poke through the black of the sky, a thousand grains of salt on a dark table cloth, the visual promise to Abraham regarding his offspring, the overwhelming expanse that baffles me with just how big the universe is and how small I am. 

For a few moments, the oppressive weight lifts from my body, floating into space like the steam rising from the hot tub.  The promise, assurance of pain remains, a shadow extending forward into the future, but the burning reminder of the suffering servant plants itself firmly beside me, and in that moment of remembrance I am strengthened.