Years ago, when I was in my teens, I heard about the monkey jar for the first time. I think, perhaps, it was a missionary speaking about his travels--both the spiritual experiences and the cultural differences that he had learned from. I don't remember where he said he had traveled; I would guess it was somewhere in Asia. I do, however, remember learning how to catch a monkey,
I'm sure you've probably seen monkeys at the zoo. They are fast--they climb, they jump, they cling and they swing--I know I wouldn't want to try to chase one! Actually, no one wants to, and that is the reason for the monkey jar. It's simple really; the trapper places a piece of fruit (that barely fits through the opening) into a jar or clay pot and leaves it out in the open. The monkey is attracted by the scent of the fruit and investigates, finding a sweet offering that is easy pickings. The monkey places its hand into the jar to retrieve the fruit, but then cannot get its hand out of the jar without letting go of the fruit. If only it could open its fist and let go of what seems so important! But, the same greedy appetite that attracted the monkey to the jar, keeps it a prisoner. The trapper can approach the monkey and contain it with a net or a rope because the monkey will not let go of the "treasure" it has found.
I thought of the monkey the other night as I was trying to fall asleep. All evening my thoughts had been consumed with various ideas, concerns, and responsibilities; racing through one "important" thing to do after another. I was primarily concerned about my new role as a leader for my OBS Facebook small group. My mind was filled with questions and ideas and seemed to jump from thought to thought in my enthusiasm about facilitating our study of "What Happens When Women Say Yes to God" by Lysa TerKeurst. One minute I was considering Facebook parties and group participation contests and the next minute I was pondering blog topics. As my thoughts careened about my head, I realized the evening had passed and I had not accomplished a thing! My brain was so full of ideas that nothing cohesive was happening. I was so greedy for my own accomplishment that I was trapped by the enormity of my plans. My brain was so full, as I grasped at doing things perfectly, that I could not use it to do anything.
I've felt trapped like that for days. Each day I would open my email or visit the study blog and find something else I needed to do; spinning my wheels doing important things and never getting traction on the best things. I held on tight--doing what I do best--making lists of important tasks and multitasking through the job at hand--striving to do each task as perfectly as possible. I tried to focus on Jeremiah 29:13, "You will seek Me and find Me when you seek me with all your heart", but it seemed like my "seeker" wasn't working very well. My joy was slipping away and I was feeling panicky.
That changed this morning. I began my quiet time by reading the blog and posting the link for my group, and then I sat down to study. I was working on the questions for chapter two and realized that God wanted to talk to me about how I am taking care of myself and how I set boundaries. He spoke to me about the "junk" in my life--too much time in front of the TV at night, treating myself to the wrong foods because I was stressed out, and the time I was wasting comparing myself to others. These habits have become poison to my body and my soul. God asked me to consider that fact that I am not perfect. He wanted me to realize that I cannot do everything, be everything, experience everything, and have everything; that is greedy--just like the monkey with his hand in the jar. I can't hold on to everything; it's a trap--just like the fragrant fruit. It might seem desirable, but it leads to captivity and death. No, my hands must be opened to let go of the things that are holding me back and they must stay open to receive the blessings God is waiting to place there. I don't get to tell God just how I want things done and I don't get to grab the blessings of my choice, because grabbing leads me right back to the monkey jar of things I can't let go of. My palms must be up and my heart must be open to say "where are You leading and what do You want of me, Lord?"
It's time to say "NO" to paralyzing perfectionism; "NO" to hours wasted on mindless entertainment; "NO" to medicating my stress with food. It's time to take my hand out of these monkey jars and experience the true freedom that comes with obedience.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Choose the Golden Door
Today is July 4th; a day of barbeques and apple pie; patriotic parades and fireworks. It is a jubilant day here in the USA, and rightfully so. We celebrate the birth of a nation fundamentally different from any other at the time of its conception; a nation that inspired incredible sacrifice by the men and women who founded it and the dreams of countless thousands since that time. At the core of its foundational principles is the freedom of choice. We can choose to speak--or be silent; to assemble with others--or remain alone; to carry a weapon--or to employ other defenses; to worship--or to eschew religion in any form. All of these choices, and so many more, are within our purview each day--so long as we do not choose in ways that invade the rights of others to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
How many empires have been founded on individual choice, rather than on the will of the group? How many great nations have been able to bind the individual sacrifices of many into a whole that defines each person AND the entire nation? While this country celebrates those heroes and their sacrifices, both historical and current, we do not elevate them to the position of royalty. For in that act of setting some individuals as intrinsically superior to others, we deny the basis of our fundamental belief that all men are created equal and all are able to pursue their own course in this world.
In this essential belief, we see the hand of God at work in the framing of this nation. There is nothing more important to God than our freedom to choose. Sin would not exist were it not for our freedom to choose. We would not have hope for the rescue from sin if not for our freedom to choose the price paid for us on Calvary. God will not populate Heaven with those who do not want to be there, or with those who do not love Him. He will not dictate our love or our actions, but He will answer our cry to be rescued when we do choose Him.
I've never visited the Statue of Liberty--perhaps someday I shall have that opportunity--but I have always loved the poem "The New Colossus", by Emma Lazarus, that is engraved on a tablet inside the pedestal:
What a lovely description of the gift offered by this country called The United States of America! You don't have to be someone the world considers "great" to be accepted in this country. We believe you can start from nothing and become anything you choose to work toward. The key to success begins with the "yearning to breathe free".
I challenge you to re-read it and imagine this is the voice of the Savior calling out to those who ache for more than what this world has to offer. Are you tired? Poor? Yearning for freedom? What God offers is His perfect rest, His riches in glory, and His freedom from bondage to sin--nothing in this world can compare! He lifts His lamp beside the Golden Door and invites us, one and all, to enter in.
How many empires have been founded on individual choice, rather than on the will of the group? How many great nations have been able to bind the individual sacrifices of many into a whole that defines each person AND the entire nation? While this country celebrates those heroes and their sacrifices, both historical and current, we do not elevate them to the position of royalty. For in that act of setting some individuals as intrinsically superior to others, we deny the basis of our fundamental belief that all men are created equal and all are able to pursue their own course in this world.
In this essential belief, we see the hand of God at work in the framing of this nation. There is nothing more important to God than our freedom to choose. Sin would not exist were it not for our freedom to choose. We would not have hope for the rescue from sin if not for our freedom to choose the price paid for us on Calvary. God will not populate Heaven with those who do not want to be there, or with those who do not love Him. He will not dictate our love or our actions, but He will answer our cry to be rescued when we do choose Him.
I've never visited the Statue of Liberty--perhaps someday I shall have that opportunity--but I have always loved the poem "The New Colossus", by Emma Lazarus, that is engraved on a tablet inside the pedestal:
Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame.
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
What a lovely description of the gift offered by this country called The United States of America! You don't have to be someone the world considers "great" to be accepted in this country. We believe you can start from nothing and become anything you choose to work toward. The key to success begins with the "yearning to breathe free".
I challenge you to re-read it and imagine this is the voice of the Savior calling out to those who ache for more than what this world has to offer. Are you tired? Poor? Yearning for freedom? What God offers is His perfect rest, His riches in glory, and His freedom from bondage to sin--nothing in this world can compare! He lifts His lamp beside the Golden Door and invites us, one and all, to enter in.
Thursday, June 27, 2013
One Last Thing
I think I've identified with Martha all my life. For years, every time I would read the story of Mary & Martha in Luke chapter 10, I would think "poor Martha! All she's trying to do is making things perfect for Jesus. Why isn't anyone helping her?"
Yep. I missed the whole point of the story for years.
I cannot remember a time when I didn't have a list of things "To Do" sitting on the counter or tucked into my purse or on my desk at work. Sometimes, I have one in all three places. Occasionally, I will find an old list in my purse and realize there are a couple of things on there I never took care of. That's how my brain works, I guess--out of sight, out of mind. There are weeks that are so full of activities and responsibilities that I'm pretty sure I could not function without a list. The List provides direction, boundaries, and--most importantly--it provides a sense of accomplishment. And, Heaven knows I love to feel I accomplished something!
This is the week before vacation. That's right--tomorrow we pile into the Murano and head out for a 10 hour drive to Pennsylvania. That makes today the busiest day of my whole week, as I clear my desk, tidy the house, do all the laundry, and remember everything I need to pack for the trip. This has also been the week for Vacation Bible School at my church. On top of that, two of the nurses I work with in our office have experienced family emergencies that have necessitated their absence for at least 2 days of the week; the rest of us are "covering" their responsibilities, in addition to our own. And, we had a baby shower at work for one of our business office personnel, so I had food to prepare for that. Just writing all this makes me feel a little stressed!
The thing is, other than a couple of "OH NO" moments, I haven't really felt overwhelmed. Really. I can hardly believe it myself. I may have learned a bit about "Stress-Less Living" during this whole online Bible study!
I realized a couple of weeks ago that this week was going to be packed tight with important tasks and unavoidable responsibilities, so I tried to plan ahead and think critically about what my limitations were.
That's what Mary understood as she sat at the feet of Jesus, and it's what Martha was struggling with. Martha wanted to make everything perfect for Jesus--including herself. That was never going to happen and could only end badly--probably with Martha snapping at servants and family members and crying in her room later over what a failure she had been. I know; I've done that. Her focus on all of the things she could do was being used by the Devil to distract her from the things Jesus wanted to do in her life. That's just how it is with perfectionism. It starts with our activities, but it takes over our heart, and soon we find ourselves trying to become good enough for Jesus.
But, Jesus gently reproved her and redirected her priorities. Her worry over the "many things" was put into proper perspective. He pointed her toward the "one thing" that really mattered.
You know, the Bible doesn't tell us that Martha went back to the kitchen. I'd like to think that she grasped the truth of what Jesus was explaining to her and had a seat right there next to Mary, at the feet of Jesus.
Yep. I missed the whole point of the story for years.
I cannot remember a time when I didn't have a list of things "To Do" sitting on the counter or tucked into my purse or on my desk at work. Sometimes, I have one in all three places. Occasionally, I will find an old list in my purse and realize there are a couple of things on there I never took care of. That's how my brain works, I guess--out of sight, out of mind. There are weeks that are so full of activities and responsibilities that I'm pretty sure I could not function without a list. The List provides direction, boundaries, and--most importantly--it provides a sense of accomplishment. And, Heaven knows I love to feel I accomplished something!
This is the week before vacation. That's right--tomorrow we pile into the Murano and head out for a 10 hour drive to Pennsylvania. That makes today the busiest day of my whole week, as I clear my desk, tidy the house, do all the laundry, and remember everything I need to pack for the trip. This has also been the week for Vacation Bible School at my church. On top of that, two of the nurses I work with in our office have experienced family emergencies that have necessitated their absence for at least 2 days of the week; the rest of us are "covering" their responsibilities, in addition to our own. And, we had a baby shower at work for one of our business office personnel, so I had food to prepare for that. Just writing all this makes me feel a little stressed!
The thing is, other than a couple of "OH NO" moments, I haven't really felt overwhelmed. Really. I can hardly believe it myself. I may have learned a bit about "Stress-Less Living" during this whole online Bible study!
I realized a couple of weeks ago that this week was going to be packed tight with important tasks and unavoidable responsibilities, so I tried to plan ahead and think critically about what my limitations were.
- I was honest with the VBS leader about how much I could participate
- I started my cleaning chores two weeks beforehand
- I signed up for food for the shower that I could make easily in the evening after VBS
- I reminded myself, repeatedly, that I can only do one task at time--so concentrate on the current task and do it right the first time
- I didn't skip any part of my Bible study/prayer time
That's what Mary understood as she sat at the feet of Jesus, and it's what Martha was struggling with. Martha wanted to make everything perfect for Jesus--including herself. That was never going to happen and could only end badly--probably with Martha snapping at servants and family members and crying in her room later over what a failure she had been. I know; I've done that. Her focus on all of the things she could do was being used by the Devil to distract her from the things Jesus wanted to do in her life. That's just how it is with perfectionism. It starts with our activities, but it takes over our heart, and soon we find ourselves trying to become good enough for Jesus.
But, Jesus gently reproved her and redirected her priorities. Her worry over the "many things" was put into proper perspective. He pointed her toward the "one thing" that really mattered.
You know, the Bible doesn't tell us that Martha went back to the kitchen. I'd like to think that she grasped the truth of what Jesus was explaining to her and had a seat right there next to Mary, at the feet of Jesus.
Thursday, June 20, 2013
When We Have No Words
We've all been there. It's that moment when you are in the middle of an important conversation, sharing a very important point, and you can't find the right word(s). Your tongue goes numb and your brain goes blank and the stammering begins; no matter how hard you try to come up with the right thing to say--there is nothing. These moments can come at any time, from a game of Trivia to an interview for a new job.
Sometimes it isn't our brain that can't come up with the right word; sometimes it's our heart. When you visit the family of a sick child in the hospital and they ask you why this has happened to them. When your daughter wants to know why her boyfriend doesn't love her anymore. When you run into a co-worker in the hall on their first day back after losing their Dad. We find ourselves looking them in the eyes, feeling a measure of their pain in our heart, and having no idea what to say.
Sometimes the search for words comes when we are praying. What can we say to God about our problems? How can we describe what we are feeling? We search our hearts for the right words to tell Him what we are thinking. . . .but all that comes out is tears. There is no way to put our feelings into words to pray and we sit there overwhelmed by our circumstances and needing our Father so very much. We feel helpless, but our intercessor is about to step in.
Did you get that?? God knows the mind of the Spirit--they are entwined in the Trinity relationship--and the Spirit intercedes for us as a part of this intimate relationship. No words are needed. The very aching of our soul is expressed to God in a way that is beyond words.
It's time to admit we don't have all the answers to the questions that start with "Why". It's time to take our cue from the Holy Spirit and quit trying to find the right words to comfort those around us who are in pain. It's time to hug them and hold them and listen to them and cry with them and know the Spirit is expressing the groans of their souls to the source of mercy and peace.
Sometimes it isn't our brain that can't come up with the right word; sometimes it's our heart. When you visit the family of a sick child in the hospital and they ask you why this has happened to them. When your daughter wants to know why her boyfriend doesn't love her anymore. When you run into a co-worker in the hall on their first day back after losing their Dad. We find ourselves looking them in the eyes, feeling a measure of their pain in our heart, and having no idea what to say.
Sometimes the search for words comes when we are praying. What can we say to God about our problems? How can we describe what we are feeling? We search our hearts for the right words to tell Him what we are thinking. . . .but all that comes out is tears. There is no way to put our feelings into words to pray and we sit there overwhelmed by our circumstances and needing our Father so very much. We feel helpless, but our intercessor is about to step in.
"The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray , but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express." Romans 8:26Does is reassure you that even the Holy Spirit doesn't use words to let God know what is in our heart? Our pain, our fears, our loneliness--even the Spirit of God doesn't have the words for what is weighing on us! Just imagine, if you can, the Holy Spirit groaning with the weight of what He carries to the Father on our behalf. We are assured that God hears us because "He who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will" (vs. 27)
Did you get that?? God knows the mind of the Spirit--they are entwined in the Trinity relationship--and the Spirit intercedes for us as a part of this intimate relationship. No words are needed. The very aching of our soul is expressed to God in a way that is beyond words.
It's time to admit we don't have all the answers to the questions that start with "Why". It's time to take our cue from the Holy Spirit and quit trying to find the right words to comfort those around us who are in pain. It's time to hug them and hold them and listen to them and cry with them and know the Spirit is expressing the groans of their souls to the source of mercy and peace.
Thursday, June 13, 2013
Wounded Warriors
I think God must have a special place in His heart for the men and women who serve our military as medics, physicians, nurses, and their support personnel. Can you think of a more intense, discouraging, and yet rewarding job? They wake up every day knowing that they will spend their day tending to those who are wounded and scarred, in both visible and invisible ways. They carefully apply their healing skills so that they can--return them to the battlefield?? Because, if they do their job skillfully, and their patient recovers fully--which is always the goal--that is what may happen.
God understands their heart; He feels the joy of victory when a medical team does the impossible and saves the life of someone wounded so badly that there seemed to be no hope. He feels their pride when they watch a soldier push through the difficult months of physical therapy. He feels their despair when they recognize the patient in front of them and know that they "fixed" this soldier just months before; did their job so well that they returned him to duty, and now they must tend to his wounds again.
God understands their heart; He feels the joy of victory when a medical team does the impossible and saves the life of someone wounded so badly that there seemed to be no hope. He feels their pride when they watch a soldier push through the difficult months of physical therapy. He feels their despair when they recognize the patient in front of them and know that they "fixed" this soldier just months before; did their job so well that they returned him to duty, and now they must tend to his wounds again.
He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:3
This text evokes a powerful mental picture for me. It's not hard to imagine God as healer, especially when we consider the many Biblical stories of Jesus touching the people around him; healing their diseases, straightening their twisted limbs, restoring their vision, and even calling them from death. This Psalm tells us of the tender loving care God uses to heal our wounds. It evokes an image of God as the one who applies the soothing salve, who wraps our wounds with fresh bandages, who touches our diseases and restores us. It also tells us that He knows when our hearts are broken and and He can heal those wounds, too.
God is the Great Physician for all those engaged in spiritual warfare. He patches us up, knowing that He is returning us to the battle. He strengthens us and encourages us when our hearts are broken by the pain that sin causes in the world all around us, and especially close to home. Just like those faithful military doctors and nurses, He knows that He is fixing us in order to return us to the battlefield.
However, He never sends us back alone. We are reassured of His presence in this beautiful passage from another Psalm:
The Lord hears His people when they call to Him for help. he rescues them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; He rescues those whose spirits are crushed. Psalm 34:17-18
God knows the hearts of His wounded warriors. He is never far from us and He will hear us when we call.
Thursday, May 30, 2013
He Feels Our Pain
Just a little over 21 years ago, I learned a valuable lesson about what really matters in life.
Let me paint a picture for you of the situation:
We must have looked pretty pitiful when we arrived, because they took one look at Scott and found a room for us to lay him down in right away. After an examination, some blood work, and an x-ray of his tummy, it was clear that he was severely dehydrated and something was very wrong. The pediatrician on call came in to see us and explained that they suspected Scott had something called an "intestinal intussusception" (part of the bowel telescopes up into the adjacent bowel) and that he needed to have IV fluids, an NG tube, and a Barium enema to confirm the diagnosis. I was so happy to have a diagnosis, I didn't stop to think or ask about what would happen if the diagnosis was confirmed. Scott was admitted to the hospital and his hell began.
He whimpered through the IV stick, too weak to even cry anymore, but when they put the NG tube down his nose he found some energy and cried out for me to "make them stop, Mommy--please make them stop". The nurse part of me knew they were taking good care of him; all I could do was just stand at the end of the bed and watch--it broke my heart!. The transport person arrived to take him down to Radiology for the Barium enema and my energy gave out. My husband Dave told me to sit down and rest--he would go with Scott for this procedure. They left, but I couldn't rest; I paced the hallway and prayed. They returned about 30 minutes later and Scott was asleep, but his Daddy was visibly shaken. Once Scott was tucked into bed and IV lines and NG tube secured, Dave told me what had happened.
As Dave waited outside the door of the Radiology suite Scott was in, he heard Scott scream--a horrible, pain-filled scream. A begging-for-it-all-to-stop kind of scream. All he could do was stand there and wait. It seemed like hours, but it was probably only 5 minutes or so, and the screaming stopped. Dave told me it was like he could feel Scott's pain in his gut.
It turned out that the same procedure used to diagnose an intussusception is sometimes what fixes it. The Pediatrician told us later that if that had not worked, Scott would been taken by ambulance to the Children's Hospital for emergency surgery. I was glad I had not known that as I paced the hall--ignorance can be a true blessing!
As I sat in that room that night, I kept looking at that pitiful, but peaceful, little boy in the bed and thinking about how much it had hurt me to see him hurt like that; how much it had hurt Dave to listen to his cries for help, knowing he could not do anything. Scott's suffering was like a knife piercing our hearts, because we loved him so much.
God loves us that way and more. He feels our pain as acutely as we do and He longs to be able to make it all stop; to be able to make it all go away. When Christ walked on this Earth, he demonstrated such intense compassion for those who were sick, forgotten, despised, mourning, and lost. He found them along the roads he traveled. He touched their wounds. He forgave their sins. He cried with them and raised their dead. He experienced betrayal and abandonment, but never gossiped or retaliated. He felt their pain and carried their sins and never, ever complained.
I know He felt our pain that night. The Father in Heaven watched us tenderly care for our son and knew in His heart what it was like to watch a son suffer. He heard our prayers and spared us the worst outcome and helped us see true peace in the midst of our storm.
Two days later, we left the hospital and headed home with our son. He was weak and worn out and had lost about five pounds in two days--but he was healed. As the three of us sat in the living room, my husband caught my eye and smiled. I smiled back. We were done fighting about money and moving and when to paint. We looked at our sweet boy and realized that we had the most important thing in life right there in that room with us; there was complete agreement on that.
Let me paint a picture for you of the situation:
- 8 months pregnant
- working night shift--and short on leave time to use for my maternity leave
- moving to a new rental house--in which we were painting the nursery
- living far away from any family
- living paycheck to paycheck
- squabbling about money and moving and painting and everything!
We must have looked pretty pitiful when we arrived, because they took one look at Scott and found a room for us to lay him down in right away. After an examination, some blood work, and an x-ray of his tummy, it was clear that he was severely dehydrated and something was very wrong. The pediatrician on call came in to see us and explained that they suspected Scott had something called an "intestinal intussusception" (part of the bowel telescopes up into the adjacent bowel) and that he needed to have IV fluids, an NG tube, and a Barium enema to confirm the diagnosis. I was so happy to have a diagnosis, I didn't stop to think or ask about what would happen if the diagnosis was confirmed. Scott was admitted to the hospital and his hell began.
He whimpered through the IV stick, too weak to even cry anymore, but when they put the NG tube down his nose he found some energy and cried out for me to "make them stop, Mommy--please make them stop". The nurse part of me knew they were taking good care of him; all I could do was just stand at the end of the bed and watch--it broke my heart!. The transport person arrived to take him down to Radiology for the Barium enema and my energy gave out. My husband Dave told me to sit down and rest--he would go with Scott for this procedure. They left, but I couldn't rest; I paced the hallway and prayed. They returned about 30 minutes later and Scott was asleep, but his Daddy was visibly shaken. Once Scott was tucked into bed and IV lines and NG tube secured, Dave told me what had happened.
As Dave waited outside the door of the Radiology suite Scott was in, he heard Scott scream--a horrible, pain-filled scream. A begging-for-it-all-to-stop kind of scream. All he could do was stand there and wait. It seemed like hours, but it was probably only 5 minutes or so, and the screaming stopped. Dave told me it was like he could feel Scott's pain in his gut.
It turned out that the same procedure used to diagnose an intussusception is sometimes what fixes it. The Pediatrician told us later that if that had not worked, Scott would been taken by ambulance to the Children's Hospital for emergency surgery. I was glad I had not known that as I paced the hall--ignorance can be a true blessing!
As I sat in that room that night, I kept looking at that pitiful, but peaceful, little boy in the bed and thinking about how much it had hurt me to see him hurt like that; how much it had hurt Dave to listen to his cries for help, knowing he could not do anything. Scott's suffering was like a knife piercing our hearts, because we loved him so much.
God loves us that way and more. He feels our pain as acutely as we do and He longs to be able to make it all stop; to be able to make it all go away. When Christ walked on this Earth, he demonstrated such intense compassion for those who were sick, forgotten, despised, mourning, and lost. He found them along the roads he traveled. He touched their wounds. He forgave their sins. He cried with them and raised their dead. He experienced betrayal and abandonment, but never gossiped or retaliated. He felt their pain and carried their sins and never, ever complained.
“In you our fathers put their trust; they trusted and you delivered them. They cried to you and were saved; in you they trusted and were not disappointed.” Psalm 22:4-5
I know He felt our pain that night. The Father in Heaven watched us tenderly care for our son and knew in His heart what it was like to watch a son suffer. He heard our prayers and spared us the worst outcome and helped us see true peace in the midst of our storm.
Two days later, we left the hospital and headed home with our son. He was weak and worn out and had lost about five pounds in two days--but he was healed. As the three of us sat in the living room, my husband caught my eye and smiled. I smiled back. We were done fighting about money and moving and when to paint. We looked at our sweet boy and realized that we had the most important thing in life right there in that room with us; there was complete agreement on that.
Friday, May 17, 2013
Self-Pity is the New Pride
I wonder what our biggest source of stress really is. I think all of us would like to blame our stress "issues" on the hectic lives we lead with overloaded schedules, demanding supervisors, never-ending lists of things to do, etc. This week I experienced a revelation about stress--most of it is not external, but rather it is internal and often has its source in pride.
YES, our schedules are full and people are constantly asking more and more of us. YES, people speak to us in ways that hurt our feelings and ruffle our feathers. YES, our environments are full of stressors. But, how that stress is processed in our own body is a choice we make. For many of us--for me--it is a pattern of choices and a lifetime of learned responses. Some of those responses are healthy, but many are not. The worst response I choose is to whine about the situation.
Whining. Anyone who has spent much time with a small child knows it well. Some of us have raised it to an art form and it seems to resolve around the word "WHY". Boy, do I hate to hear this word--but I sure love to use it sometimes!
Why is this happening?
Why am I here?
Why are they getting away with doing that?
Why did she say that?
Why can't I have a new _______? (car, clothes, house--you fill in the blank)
Why are my children so difficult sometimes?
Why won't she be my friend?
Why doesn't my boss recognize my efforts?
Why. Whine. Maybe it should be spelled "whyne" so that we could more easily recognize what it really is--a constant cry for attention and pity. When others don't, or won't, feel sorry for me, I have a solution. It's called self-pity. It is rooted in prided.
Pride? Really? I mean, how can self-pity have anything to do with pride? Pride is being puffed up about oneself and boasting and bragging. There's no way pride can be the source of self-pity; and yet, it is. Consider this quote from Stressed-Less Living by Tracie Miles:
It seems that pride, like so many things in life, has its healthy purpose and its unhealthy extremes. I can put myself ahead of God by worshiping my success AND by wallowing in my failures. Anything that takes my eyes off of God, and focuses my attention on myself, will end up coming between us in relationship. Too often, as a Christian, I confuse humility with self-loathing or self-pity. Self-loathing manifests itself through persistent whining about my circumstances and a focus on all of my mistakes. Humility is manifested when I acknowledge my sin before God and welcome the redeeming power of His love to enter my soul and wipe away the traces sin left behind.
The difference is the power source. Philippians 4:13 assures us that we "can do all things through Christ, who strengthens us". I John 2:16 warns us that "everything in the world--the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does--comes not from the Father but from the world." What am I plugged in to? Am I focused on the attention of those around me? Do I crave recognition from others like a drug? Am I hoarding responsibilities--never delegating or letting others help me--so that my co-workers or family will recognize how pitiful I am and feel sorry for me? All of these choices represent a power source, but they all lead to overwhelming stress as I try to fuel myself with the recognition of other sinful people. And, in the end, this choice can only lead to a sense of failure and discouragement.
God calls me out of this mindset. He calls me to lay my burdens at His feet. He promises lighter burdens and the possibility of being yoked with Him--that is, working side by side with Him--plugged in to His power. And, God assures me I can do all things through Him and in His strength. This does not mean I can do everything. It means that everything I do in obedience to Him, will be infused with His power.
YES, our schedules are full and people are constantly asking more and more of us. YES, people speak to us in ways that hurt our feelings and ruffle our feathers. YES, our environments are full of stressors. But, how that stress is processed in our own body is a choice we make. For many of us--for me--it is a pattern of choices and a lifetime of learned responses. Some of those responses are healthy, but many are not. The worst response I choose is to whine about the situation.
Whining. Anyone who has spent much time with a small child knows it well. Some of us have raised it to an art form and it seems to resolve around the word "WHY". Boy, do I hate to hear this word--but I sure love to use it sometimes!
Why is this happening?
Why am I here?
Why are they getting away with doing that?
Why did she say that?
Why can't I have a new _______? (car, clothes, house--you fill in the blank)
Why are my children so difficult sometimes?
Why won't she be my friend?
Why doesn't my boss recognize my efforts?
Why. Whine. Maybe it should be spelled "whyne" so that we could more easily recognize what it really is--a constant cry for attention and pity. When others don't, or won't, feel sorry for me, I have a solution. It's called self-pity. It is rooted in prided.
Pride? Really? I mean, how can self-pity have anything to do with pride? Pride is being puffed up about oneself and boasting and bragging. There's no way pride can be the source of self-pity; and yet, it is. Consider this quote from Stressed-Less Living by Tracie Miles:
Pride is not only giving ourselves too much credit for the good things in our lives, but also giving ourselves a lack of credit for anything. If we see ourselves as superior to others, then we take the focus away from God and put it on us. On the other hand, if we see ourselves as worthless and inferior, then we take the focus away from God and put it on us again.
It seems that pride, like so many things in life, has its healthy purpose and its unhealthy extremes. I can put myself ahead of God by worshiping my success AND by wallowing in my failures. Anything that takes my eyes off of God, and focuses my attention on myself, will end up coming between us in relationship. Too often, as a Christian, I confuse humility with self-loathing or self-pity. Self-loathing manifests itself through persistent whining about my circumstances and a focus on all of my mistakes. Humility is manifested when I acknowledge my sin before God and welcome the redeeming power of His love to enter my soul and wipe away the traces sin left behind.
The difference is the power source. Philippians 4:13 assures us that we "can do all things through Christ, who strengthens us". I John 2:16 warns us that "everything in the world--the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does--comes not from the Father but from the world." What am I plugged in to? Am I focused on the attention of those around me? Do I crave recognition from others like a drug? Am I hoarding responsibilities--never delegating or letting others help me--so that my co-workers or family will recognize how pitiful I am and feel sorry for me? All of these choices represent a power source, but they all lead to overwhelming stress as I try to fuel myself with the recognition of other sinful people. And, in the end, this choice can only lead to a sense of failure and discouragement.
God calls me out of this mindset. He calls me to lay my burdens at His feet. He promises lighter burdens and the possibility of being yoked with Him--that is, working side by side with Him--plugged in to His power. And, God assures me I can do all things through Him and in His strength. This does not mean I can do everything. It means that everything I do in obedience to Him, will be infused with His power.
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