The Honest Reality

I want to tell you the honest truth about myself.

The total, brutal, and honest truth.

So here it is:

I don’t know; I don’t understand; I can’t fix it; I am not sure.

More and more, I am being confronted with the fact that I don’t know the answers to life’s issues, I don’t understand why people do the things they do, I can’t fix the problems I see all around me and I’m not even sure why we have some of these problems in the first place.

For someone who is going to college in order to get a degree in biblical counseling, this is rather disheartening news. I mean, after all, isn’t a counselor someone who has an answer ready for every problem? A piece of advice for every hardship, a solution to overcome sinful habits, a surety and a confidence in the nature of God?

When people are in the midst of hard situations, they turn to a counselor because they are looking for a guide – a knowledgeable leader who can shed light into their darkness.

They would be rather disquieted if they found out that their “counselor” is a blind guide who doesn’t quite know where she herself is going.

Such has been a concern of mine as of late.

Sometimes, when I look into the faces of friends, family, and complete strangers on the street and see raw pain, a part of me wants to close my eyes and shut out the world.
Why does God let me see so much pain when I can seemingly do nothing about it?

So again and again, He has been calling me to that steep hill called Surrender.

Lord, I don’t know. I don’t have the answers. I myself often feel lost.
But You, Lord, You know. You have all the answers. You can see the whole picture.
You see the pain and the solution. You see the grieving and the path to peace. You have the power, the right words to say, and everything that I lack.
Please Father. Use me.
I lift these hands as an empty vessel with nothing to offer but a heart which desires to reach others and to touch them like You did. Fill me with You.

I want to tell you another honest truth.

He listens to such prayers.

Time and time again, He has given me the right words to say, the courage to say them, and the opportunity to point a hurting one to the Healer.

The complete, honest truth:

I am nothing. In and of myself, I am just another voice in a sea of pain. In and of myself, I have no good answers to give you, no solutions for your problems.

It’s all Him.

To be a good counselor is to be a humbled and broken Christian. And trust me, I am not nearly broken or humble enough.

But of late, I have been coming to rest ever more firmly upon the foundation called Christ: the foundation where I let go of any grand illusions I ever held about my own “abilities”.

Do you know what peace there is in the death of self?
I am slowly figuring it out.

Will you join me?

Perhaps we can lift up empty hands together in order to be filled with the only Answer that will ever satisfy, the only Solution which will truly reach the hurting, and the only Life which will endure forever.

Conformity and Comfort

I was already familiar with the old adage: “God is more concerned with your holiness than He is with your happiness.”

But then, this last Sunday, my pastor put a new spin on this idea which caught my attention. He said that God is more concerned about our being conformed to His image than He is with our comfort.

This sounds like a fundamental, basic fact of Christianity which I should have grasped before, but it really struck home yesterday because this was the answer I have been looking for in regards to my personal inquiry: “Where has God gone?”

At various times in my life, God has been very close to me and has been a constant presence in my spirit. I can’t really put into words what this close friendship is like or what this relationship entails, but I can say that the times He has been close to me have been the times of my greatest comfort and security.

Starting in January of 2011, the Lord came very close to me and He walked me through a number of challenging issues and struggles. But then, about three months ago, I had a week in which I felt my closeness with the Lord slowly start to dim and His presence seemed to distance itself from me.

I have personally titled such times “Ichabod times” because in Scripture, the name Ichabod was used by the Israelites to describe the times when God seemed to depart from His people. Its literal translation is “the glory has departed”.

I have had Ichabod times in the past, but this time has been the worst.

For the first time in over a year, I could not seem to take hold of His presence nor could I find the security of His peace.

I was greatly distressed and I wondered what I had done wrong. But the Lord didn’t lay a specific sin issue on my heart as the cause for His quietness nor did He indicate a specific purpose for His withdrawal.

And thus, for the last ten weeks, I have waited and waited for the Lord to “reappear” so that we could go back to our close fellowship. I have prayed, I have spoken to my parents about it, I have tried to read His Word – but nothing has changed.

And thus, as of this last week, I finally grew tired of the silence. I had been trying not to get bitter or depressed; I had been trying to be patient and to simply accept His will with graciousness.

But finally, this week, with a number of issues looming which were distressing me, I really wanted to feel His presence and comfort.

But when I sought for Him, I did not feel Him.

And so, I grew angry.

In all honesty, I didn’t want to go to church yesterday, but as I knew I needed to go, I went. And there, in the middle of the sermon, this partial answer struck me:

God cares more about my sanctification and my conformity to His Son than He does about my personal feelings of comfort. He does not necessarily always want to soothe me – He wants to strengthen me. He has already promised that He will never abandon me; therefore, He now wants me to have faith and to act in accordance with His truth even if I do not feel His presence close to me.

Does that mean that He doesn’t care about our feelings or that we are supposed to just plaster a smile on our faces even when we’re hurting because “this will all work out for your good?”

No.

And God does comfort us even in moments when we cannot feel the closeness of His presence. He comforts us through our brothers and sisters in the Lord, through tokens of His grace in a sermon or in our Bible reading, through the encouragement of a stranger, etc.

Truly, God is good.

I won’t deny the fact that I still grieve that I don’t feel Him as closely as I have in the past. But I do know that He has a purpose for this time and that He is strengthening me into the woman He desires me to be – the woman who ever needs to be conformed more and more into the image of Christ.

Who are you?

Who are you?

Most of the time when we are asked this question, the first answer that comes to our mind is our name. We associate our deepest identity with our name and that name depicts our very character.

But some have rightly asked – what’s in a name? We can change our name when it suits us but we cannot change the deepest nature of who we are.

So who are you?

The next answer that may come to mind is what you do. We refer to ourselves as a student, a mother, a football player, a businessman, a construction worker, or a doctor.
But these occupations are also liable to change. You may not always be a doctor or a social worker or a pastor.

People who try to link their deepest essence to what they do experience depression and despair when that occupation is stripped from them because they do not realize that an occupation or a gifting does not make you who you are.

So again I ask: who are you?

Your name, your appearance, your occupation, your family, your social status, your relationships and your abilities are all liable to change and to shift – these things do not make us who we are.

That question of who we are – that deepest part of us that separates us from all other people and makes us unique and priceless – is tied up in a totally different question altogether.
The real question is: Who made you?

Was it you? Was it chance? Was it God?

Only once you know where you came from can you know where you are going and who you really are.
Therefore, as I have been giving this question some thought, I have finally come to the realization that the question “Who are you?” is answered thus:
“I am the creation of God who has been strategically placed on this earth in order to fulfill His purposes through my name, my occupation, my relationships, and my abilities.”
In short, my deepest entity is tied with His. Apart from Him, I have nothing; but in Him, I have everything.

I have a name because He cares about my individuality. He never forgets who I am or confuses me for someone else. To Him, I am distinct and my name is engraved on the palms of His hands.

I have an occupation/calling because He designed me for a purpose which He has promised He will reveal to me as time goes along.

Everything that I do in this life is a part of that calling – regardless of whether I change from being a student to a social worker or to a mother or to an invalid. Therefore, what I do in life springs from what I am in Him but it does not define me.

I have abilities because He has equipped me to fulfill the calling He has given me. These abilities may change or shift in time as His plans for me develop and move in new directions. But even if I lost my intellect, my ability to speak, to write, or to read – this would not change who I am. It would merely change how I view the world and how the world views me.

So by now you may be asking: What is the purpose of this philosophical, esoteric post?

More than anything else, I just want to encourage you.

Don’t let yourself get trapped into letting things, people, your status, your name, or your abilities define who you are because these are only manifestations of your personhood.

When you let the world or circumstances or even your own mind determine who you are, this will make you feel helpless and lost.

It is only when we rest our full security in an Unchangeable that we will have permanent security regardless of what life throws our way.

Yes, you may be a sister or a brother, a mother or wife, a chef or a doctor, a student or a teacher.

But this does not define you.

He defines you.

And as He continues to work in you, you will continue to uncover more and more of who you truly are and who He wants you to be.

So who am I?

I am His.

And, in the end, that is all that matters.

Trust and Lean Upon the Lord

When stormy winds against us break
Stablish and reinforce our will;
O hear us for Thine own Name’s sake,
Hold us in strength and hold us still.

Still as the faithful mountains stand,
Through the long, silent years of stress;
So would we wait at Thy right hand
In quietness and steadfastness.

But not of us this strength, O Lord,
And not of us this constancy
Our trust is Thine eternal Word,
Thy presence our security.
- Amy Carmichael

 

When You Didn’t Know I Was Watching

Last year, in honor of Mother’s Day, I posted a tribute regarding the high calling of motherhood:
mothers-day

This year, I don’t feel the need to reiterate the goal, honor, or purpose of motherhood – instead, I simply want to express my love and appreciation for my own mom.

This “poem” listed below is partially taken from the tribute I gave her at my high-school graduation, but I have since added onto it in order to include new insights I have gained from watching her life within the last three years.

To the one who has given me more than I could ever fathom in order that I might become more of a godly woman each and every day:

When You Didn’t Know I Was Watching

When others stared and shook their heads because you did not fit into “the mold”, I watched you square your shoulders with dignity and quietly continue on as a living example of godly femininity.

You didn’t think I was watching, but I was.

When your marriage got hard and things looked bleak, I watched as you kept on loving, kept on being faithful, kept on being strong.

You didn’t know I was watching, but I was.

When we decided to move here rather than Arizona, I watched you adjust and then quietly submit without arguing or complaining.

You didn’t realize I was watching, but I was.

When other girls’ parents didn’t have the courage to say, “No,” I saw them reap a bitter reward and I silently thanked you for setting up boundaries.

You didn’t know I was grateful, but I was.

When you worked until after midnight to finish something for us, and then got up early in order to be able to spend time alone with God, I noticed that you were diligent, meek, and beautiful.

You didn’t know I was watching, but I was.

When one child hurt their knee and another spilled their milk while yet another child called your name for the tenth time, I watched you take a deep breath and then respond patiently to everyone’s needs.

You didn’t know I was watching, but I was.

When I started college and realized that not every teacher works to make all the learning material clear, concise and personally relevant, I recognized that your school planning and teaching was more than a dedication to excellence – it was a dedication to our individual interest and development.

You didn’t know that I noticed, but I did.

When you were asked to help organize PHF every year, when you were asked to help lead the homeschooling group, when you were asked to help counsel those who were hurting, and when you were asked to speak at various functions because “she has such a gift for public speaking”, I saw that you were a leader, a teacher, a comforter, and a peacemaker.

You didn’t realize I was watching, but I was.

When I came to talk with you one night and you admitted that you aren’t always sure what to do, what to say, or how to fix every problem, I realized that you are an amazing woman who struggles like I do with the limitations of being human.

You didn’t realize I was watching, but I was.

Through it all I have watched you, and many lessons have I learned. In fact, much of who I am I owe to you. Through the good and the bad, the happy and the sad, your example has always been there for me.

Though times may change and seasons pass as life moves forward on its course;
I want you to know one thing will stay the same.

For adversity can’t break it, and trials can’t shake it, for even time cannot lessen its force:

Mom,
I love you.

Giving in to Grace

It was an act of sheer will.

I was determined to finish my recent college class and I was determined to get a good grade. The class itself was very dry and, in some places, rather depressing.

Other non-school-related issues which were emotionally difficult were occurring at the same time and it was extremely tempting to think: “These chapter summaries account for only 15% of my grade. I could complete half of them and then skip the rest, focusing only on the research paper (worth 75% of my grade) which will only take two or three days to write. Then I could be done with this class and settle for getting a B”.

But there was something in me that wouldn’t allow me to take that route.

I would like to say that what prevented me from skimping on the summaries was a perseverant attitude or a dedication to excellence.

And while I am dedicated to excellence, the real truth of the matter is that I completed that class in an act of sheer will because:

I am simply terrified of failure.

To get a “B” grade on a class, to me, would shout to the rooftops: “You are second best! You could have done better! You have failed.”

My parents have tried, over and over again, to instill in me the concept that perfection is a goal not a state of being.

But something within me still dies every time I discover that I messed up. Again.

Of course, if I were to have skimped on the summaries and received a “B”, the fact of the matter would have been that I could have done better – I could have finished all the class work.

But there are times in real life circumstances where – even after I have tried my best – I get a “B”, a “C”, or even an “F” in my undertakings.

In moments like that, I have a really hard time accepting and owning my mistakes, apologizing for them, and moving on.

Somehow, there’s a part of me that feels like I must always earn my way through life.

I must earn the respect and love of my friends, I must earn the acceptance of my family, I must earn the approval of my college dean, I must earn my own satisfaction with life, I must earn God’s acceptance and approval.

Of course, to an extent, this is true. We can’t expect others to like us and accept us if we do nothing to foster a good relationship.

But to another extent, there is something called grace.

Family and friends don’t always want a “perfect” and “flawless” friend or daughter. They want an honest person who strives for excellence, but they also want someone who is willing to graciously admit to fault. They don’t always want to be impressed – they want to be appreciated. They don’t always want you to keep your struggles to yourself – they want you to be real and to admit that you need grace.

And God just shakes His head at my efforts to “impress” Him and says:

“Daughter, you can’t make Me love you more than I do. I want you to commune with Me, to follow Me, and to seek relationship with Me. You can’t earn My favor or My grace. I have already chosen to give My love and salvation to you despite the fact that you are not worthy. Stop trying to impress and to earn your way and, instead, start accepting grace and come to grips with your inability. Only once you have come to grips with your failures can you can really experience the joy of My grace.”

While it may be humanly possible to get straight A’s all throughout college, it is not humanly possible to get straight A’s all throughout relationships and life circumstances.

I think it is always helpful to be reminded that we need to have a healthy balance between striving for excellence and accepting grace for our failures.

And on the flip side, we need to encourage our friends and family to seek excellence while also being willing to extend grace when they fail.

Do we reach for excellence or do we settle for “B” status? Do we extend grace and love to each other, or are we quick to point out error and shut others down? When we have failed, do we acknowledge this humbly or do we try to defend ourselves?

Finishing that class, for me, was an act of sheer will which earned its reward.

But I think it’s about time I learned how to cultivate the reward of closer relationships as a result of striving towards greater humility.

And I know that this will only be able to happen as He continues to work within me – as an act of His sheer grace.

Don’t Shoot the Messenger!

In Shakespeare’s play, Antony and Cleopatra, when Cleopatra is told by a messenger that Antony has married another, Cleopatra threatens to blind the messenger and gouge out his eyes. This threat elicits the response: “Gracious madam, I that do bring the news made not the match”.

Plutarch’s Lives has this line: “The first messenger that gave notice of Lucullus’ coming was so far from pleasing Tigranes that he had [the messenger’s] head cut off for his pains; and no man daring to bring further information, without any intelligence at all, Tigranes sat while war was already blazing around him, giving ear only to those who flattered him…”

It has often amazed me that royalty and military generals would be so foolish as to take out their anger on a person for simply being the bearer of bad news. It is foolish because:

1. The messenger is only speaking the truth

2. The messenger is only trying to warn his king of danger ahead of time in order to allow the king to find safety

3. It is not the messenger’s fault that the battle went poorly or that a crisis has occurred.

But apparently, logic is not always a leader’s strong suit.

And even more unfortunately, it is not always my strong suit either.

I want to be a practical person who adheres to what is true, rejects what it false, stands above reproach, and is a gracious speaker and listener.

But all of these good intentions do not always work themselves out into practical reality when a “messenger” of unfavorable news regarding my spiritual battle with sin comes to me with a message.

When a friend or family member confronts me on a sin issue that they feel is harmful to myself and/or to others, my first reaction is not always to thank the messenger for his pains.

It is often tempting to employ the ad hominem logical fallacy and to attack the messenger rather than the problem.

In that moment when your sin has been aired before you like so much dirty laundry, the person speaking to you suddenly appears, in your eyes, to be a most wretched sinner who, because of the weight of their own obvious sins, should not dare to point out the speck in your eye!

But such a response accomplishes nothing except to prove that you do, indeed, have a serious sin issue called pride which needs to be addressed.

Of course, one must honestly ask themselves, “Is the content of this messenger’s warning to/about me really true?” Perhaps it is not. But most likely, it is – at least to some extent.

One must also recognize that the messenger who is warning you of the danger is doing you a favor. They are trying to help you find safety and security – they are not trying to dump boiling oil over your head for the mere fun of watching the reaction. (Hopefully.)

And lastly, one must remember that the messenger is not at fault for your sin issue.

Does the messenger have sin issues of his own? Yes. Was the messenger perhaps involved in your crisis and did he needle and provoke you? Possibly. Does the messenger himself need a messenger to come and warn him of a thing or two? There is always that possibility.

But none of that negates the fact that you are responsible for your own sin issues and for your response to correction.

The messenger is not at fault that your spiritual battle is not going well. The fault lies squarely on your own shoulders.

But that is good news.

It is good news because you, in the power of God, can change your behavior.

You can’t control others, but you can control yourself.

So don’t shoot the messenger – shoot the sin.

Thank the messenger for his pains and reach for safety. Accept the truth with graciousness – a message of correction is nothing to lose one’s head over.

Friendship

Of all the issues and concepts in my life which I have agonized about, shed tears over, and tried my hardest in order to “get it right”, I would have to say that one of the greatest challenges for me is still embodied in an intangible concept called friendship.

From my earliest memories, I can recall wanting friends and desiring close fellowship. I remember wanting to be popular – even from my early Cubbies days.

In grade school, I tried to become friends with the church girls, but I didn’t fit in very well. I used to come in tears to my mother, crying and asking what I was doing wrong because I wanted so badly to be accepted and wanted.

At that time, my mother wisely told me: “Seek God first. Make Him your best friend. In time, He will bring other friends to you.”

So God and I spent a lot of time together. I had one or two good friends during those years, but for the most part I talked with God – sharing with Him all the things I would have liked to have shared with a group of girlfriends – and I learned to find comfort and peace in Him. He started teaching me how to be comfortable in my own skin, not looking to other people as the standard, but looking to Him as the definition of success.

Then, in my later teens, an amazing thing happened. I became friends with not one, not two, not even three, but with a whole group of people within a space of a few years.

You would have no idea how ecstatic I was. I used to just marvel at the fact that “these people like me. They really like me.”

I was no longer a nameless person who often sat in the corner – I was friends with people who knew my name and who looked for opportunities to spend time with me.

But with this new season of friendship, there were new lessons I struggled to learn. How much to share, how much time to spend with peers, acceptable ways to communicate, etc.

There were still days when I would come to my mom crying because I couldn’t seem to quite figure it out.

And my mother would wisely say, “Continue to seek the Lord. Don’t be a fake, but don’t make yourself completely vulnerable to everybody either. Balance your time and watch your words.”

And so again, I found myself talking with God a lot – asking Him for wisdom, confessing my feelings of failure, and seeking to find the perfect middle ground.

I still do not have the whole friendship thing figured out.

I still struggle with knowing the right things to say, the right way to say them, and the right times to keep quiet.

But friendship isn’t a science you can control with formulas.

If God has taught me anything about friendship, it’s that you can’t always control your friendships with others and you can’t let your friendships control you.

Today, I have a group of some of the best friends imaginable and I am grateful beyond words that they continue to befriend me and include me even after they have come to realize how imperfect I am.

And that I believe is the real mystery of friendship: friendship is found in people who are willing to open their arms to bring you close even when you are not worthy.

God has called us His friends. We are certainly not worthy of that title, but He freely gives it to us anyway. He has promised to stick close to us regardless of life’s circumstances and He will never abandon us for “better” or “newer” people.

And so, hand in hand with Christ, my journey into the realm of friendship continues.

 

Hold Fast

Does anything that I do make a difference in this world?

And if it does, then am I leaving a mark here on this earth which will serve as a stepping stone and a help to others? Or will my life’s mark on earth prove to be nothing more than a painful scar?

These questions and others have been tossing around in my consciousness for the last few weeks. Trying to find meaning and purpose in a world that often appears cyclical is not always straight-forward.

The seasons keep changing, people come and go, nations rise and fall, heresies spring forward and then retreat only to be replaced by “new” heresies, the sun keeps rising and setting, and the world as a whole sometimes seems impervious to the efforts of man.

After looking at one’s own imperfections and after looking at the magnitude of work which the world and the Church needs, it can feel like a pointless task to keep trying for a holy life.

But in the very first chapter of 1 Peter, that great apostle reveals the truth in the plainest terms:

“In His great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time.”

Blessed be the Lord of mercy for He has promised us a living hope. This hope is also coupled with an imperishable inheritance which is stored up for us as we continue to strive for a holy life – faithfully choosing to believe that, even if we cannot see it, our actions are leading up to a better, grander future.

We can have this hope and a continued faith in God because we are shielded by His power – everything is under His will, the enemy cannot destroy us, and nothing can eliminate the work we do in, through, and for God.

The hardest part of faith is realizing that we are working towards a goal which we cannot see.

The inheritance laid up for us is a heavenly one which we will not glimpse while we live here on earth. Though there are times in this world when our efforts are recognized and we can watch the effects of our labors play out in front of us, these moments are few and far between.

God often calls us to trust Him and to rely on His promises despite the fact that we don’t understand the “why’s” of His plan.

When we can’t see Him, He calls us to believe that He is standing beside us.

When we can’t hear or feel Him, He calls us to have faith that He has not abandoned us.

When trials enter our lives, He calls us to trust that this is for our good.

When He keeps stepping into our path and closing doors of opportunity, He calls us to believe that He is preparing the right way for us and that He is guiding us to a better place.

Through these last few weeks, it has seemed as if the message I keep hearing over and over is:

Hold fast to His promises.

By clinging to His Word and to the living hope He has given us, we can be assured that striving for holiness does make a difference and that the shield of God’s power will never fail to protect and strengthen us on this journey.

Somehow

The weight of emptiness filled the air

No sound, no whisper – only a barren wind

Where peace once flowed, now stillness glared

The quiet was blank and hopefulness dimmed

 

Why wouldn’t He speak or answer?

She knew it wasn’t because He didn’t care.

Why couldn’t she feel Him close to her?

She knew – she knew – that He was there.

 

She had no proof – and yet she believed

She had no assurance – and yet still she tried

She heard no Voice – for this she grieved

She felt no comfort – for this she cried

 

But still one truth sounded forth with power

The heavenly silence did not drown it out

The temptation to question and to cower

Was overcome by a trust that will not doubt

 

Some would call this foolishness

Faith without proof can’t be smart

But He had promised her He would not leave

So she chose to believe Him with all her heart

 

This faith was not one she, on her own, had achieved

It was not a trust that she, on her own, had designed

It was He who had first taught her how to believe

And it was He who had shown her where she was blind

 

So now as the deafening silence threatened to crush her

She clung to His promises which will always remain

They didn’t change the fact that she still had no answers

They didn’t change the fact that her soul was still in pain

 

But

 

He was truly with her – and this was her assurance

He was truly with her – though His presence she did not feel

So despite the inertia of silence, she grasped for endurance

Because I know He’ll never fail me and His promises are real.