Live well, die better

John Calvin said once that we should live our lives 'with one foot raised.'

He meant that Christians should be looking forward to departing this world to be with the Lord...'for that is much better.'

It's rather easy to long for eternal life with the Lord when we undergo hardship, trial, disappointment, etc. These things, as Calvin said, do serve us in weaning us off of this life. The ultimate test, however, is how much we long to gaze upon the Lord of Glory when everything in our lives here seems to be going well.

Seasons of blessing and peace are from the Lord. Even in joyous seasons, remembering that there is a war going on--and we are soldiers in that war--is vital to emerging victorious.

The temptation is there, when life is peaceful and full of joy, to relax and 'settle in.' We cannot forget that this is not home.

Home. 

When I was a little girl and I had an upcoming event--usually a birthday party--that I was excited about, I would often predict Jesus' return to be on date of the party. In my foolishness, I thought that Christ was then unable to come back on that day because 'no one knows the day or the hour.' Very foolish.

What is worse, though, is the fact that I wanted to go to a silly party more than I wanted to see the Lord. Absurd!

It is strange that we live in a world that is visual and physical, yet not reflective of reality. And the reality of the supernatural realm is there, but we have not been given eyes to see it...yet.

So we live, and enjoy, life...with one foot raised...every day thinking, 'This could be the day that my faith becomes sight.'

When I go don't cry for me

In my Father's arms I'll be

The wounds this world left on my soul

Will all be healed and I'll be whole

Sun and moon will be replaced

With the light of Jesus' face

And I will not be ashamed

For my Savior knows my name

All My Tears, Lyrics by Emmylou Harris

if you've done everything you should...

Just about every family has its own opinion and conviction about Santa Claus. I don't remember being told anything about Santa, but I did know that on Christmas Eve I got presents from "Santa." However, I realized very early on that Santa and Ma (my grandma) had the same handwriting--loopy and graceful, very delicate and feminine. I don't think I ever thought that Santa was real.

At least, not the jolly, fat, red-robed, cookie-eating bearded fellow from the North Pole. But a mystic, wish-granting, good-behavior rewarding, bad-behavior excusing deity? "You'll get yours if you've done everything thing you should, extra-special good." And if you weren't good... well, no one I know has ever actually gotten coal, and let me tell you, I know a few people who deserve coal every year. If that were just about Santa, I could stomach it. But don't we often think that way about God?

Take, for example, my least favorite Christmas song - "Santa Baby." It's a series of wishes in a prayer-like format. And our singer prays for all sorts of goodies, reminding Santa all the time of her own good behavior and of her future good behavior. She cajoles, "I really do believe in you. Let's see if you believe in me."

Maybe it's a single girl thing. But not only can I naturally think just like the girl in the song, but modern Christianity wants to feed me a steady diet of, "God just wants you to learn what He has for you. Then He will lead you to what's next." So what you're telling me is that once I've been really good, God will deliver? C'mon, God--think of all the fun I've missed! Think of all the fellows that I haven't kissed! Pay up!

Whatever happened to obedience to God's word because He is worthy of radical obedience, whether it makes me happy or not, whether it satisfies my earthly desires or not? Have we lost a sense of God's wrath and judgment upon sin? Do we forget that God is not Santa, that while bad kids still get presents, God is required by His own justice to punish sin? I forget it sometimes.

What freaks me out is that a lot of times our prayers sound like Christmas songs--big wish lists, with a few little compliments thrown in to appease the big guy in the red pajamas. There's an old hymn that takes the form of a prayer. Every time I hear "Santa Baby," I think of this hymn and get convicted all over again. I know which one I more often pray like.

We have not known Thee as we ought,
Nor learned Thy wisdom, grace and power;
The things of earth have filled our thought,
And trifles of the passing hour.
Lord, give us light Thy truth to see,
And make us wise in knowing Thee.
We Have Not Known Thee as We Ought by Thomas B. Pollock

hoping in God

The day before this past Thanksgiving she baked off a pumpkin pie with pecan streusel on top. She and her husband took the two kiddos and baby for holiday haircuts. Her thoughts were of the imminent joys of family and traditions.

The next morning her 35 year-old husband had a seizure, collapsed, and was rushed to the hospital, where doctors found a hefty-sized tumor on his frontal lobe.

How does a person, a wife, a mother, a Christian respond to this?

Lauren Chandler said, "Whom have I in heaven but you + earth has nothing I desire besides you--though my heart + flesh may fail--You are the strength of my heart and my portion forever."

That's, to me, mind boggling. That doesn't come in a moment. It is based on something big, something strong, something deep--a foundation of rock that can and will withstand howling winds and crashing waves. When you come to hard times, going to Scripture is the best idea. But the very, very bestest idea is to go to Scripture before the hard time and during the hard time.

Four days after her husband Matt's seizure and diagnosis, Lauren blogged,

"The Sunday before the "event," I opened my Bible intending to study a specific text in John. When the pages fell open, the title page of the book of Job stared me squarely in the face. I'm not normally one to play the magic eight ball game with the Bible but I'm also not one to believe in mere coincidence. The Lord--in His sure presence--was readying my heart. He was reminding me that nothing, absolutely nothing, can happen to Matt, the kids, other loved ones, or me without first passing through His hands. Satan had to ask permission to sift Job. The prince of this world is but a pawn in the Lord's plan.

This mass, tumor, whatever it is, is but an agent to bring Him greater glory and us greater joy. "

Wimpy theology makes wimpy women, John Piper says. Lauren Chandler is not a wimpy woman. The day before Matt's brain surgery, when he could have lived or died on the table, she tweeted, "Hoping in God. He is good and does good."

An amazing example of godliness in action. It is, I almost hate to phrase it this way, a privilege to watch Christians suffer, to see them declare as the world watches, "Jesus you are my great reward...your Kingdom come your will be done."

May God grant us the grace to endure joyfully, willingly, and patiently when our turn comes.

Abiding in the Vine Produces Fruit

My sophomore year of college, I took American Lit. One piece of literature I was required to read was written by Benjamin Franklin. It was his account of his personal pursuit of morality and virtue.

Franklin made himself a thorough grid of all of the virtues he decided were good to acquire and set about following a complex routine every day in an attempt to master these qualities. Among them were patience, charity, truthfulness, etc.

He later admitted utter failure.

It took him such extreme effort to work on one area of his character that he found it impossible to maintain any one virtue when he moved on to the next virtue on his grid.

I admired Franklin's honesty. I remember sympathizing with him--it was exactly how I felt. I had given up 'trying to be good.' It was too hard and exhausting trying to live up to God's standards so I had just stopped trying and I lived under a shadow of condemnation.

We were two dead people, Franklin and I, trying to run a marathon. Impossible.

We knew morals were good to have--and we both knew moral people we admired--but we didn't know Jesus. Ah, to want to 'be moral for morality's sake' was not enough. Jesus provides, not only the motivation, but the ability to bear good fruit.

"I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing." John 15:5

Jesus truly does set the captive free. Free from self-reliance, condemnation, guilt...oh, does He ever cease from giving?! What is impossible with me is DONE by Christ.

C.S. Lewis expressed this wonderfully well:

I want to add now that the next step is to make some serious attempt to practise the Christian virtues. A week is not enough. Things often go swimmingly for the first week. Try six weeks. By that time, having, as far as one can see, fallen back completely or even fallen lower than the point one began from, one will have discovered some truths about oneself.

No man knows how bad he is till he has tried very hard to be good. A silly idea is current that good people do not know what temptation means. This is an obvious lie. Only those who try to resist temptation know how strong it is...we never find out the strength of the evil impulse inside us until we try to fight it: and Christ, because He was the only man who never yielded to temptation, is also the only man who knows to the full what temptation means--the only complete realist

--C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity, p.141-142

spiritual allergies

It's the holiday season!

Which means, for me, lots and lots of Benadryl on hand. I have an allergy, a bad one, and it most often comes out to play during the holidays. I'm allergic to tree nuts. Just contemplate for a moment how many holiday goodies contain tree nuts. Don't limit your imagination to just desserts--entrees and side dishes have been known to sneak them in, too. I am forced to have a selective palate and to be very annoying by asking, "Are there nuts in this?" about every single dish. This past Thanksgiving there were so many collective nuts in the kitchen (relatives included?), that I couldn't go in. Last week Robin baked with pecans. I neither touched nor ate them, yet I enjoyed an allergic reaction.

Tree nuts are perfectly good foods to most people. To me they are poison. On the other hand, peanuts are poison to many people, while being quite tasty to me.

I don't want to be a legalist or the kind of person who says, "Don't touch, don't taste," to everything around me. But there are times when we have to realize our spiritual allergies and say to ourselves, "don't touch, don't taste." There was a time a few months ago when I was watching a perfectly harmless show, until I realized that I was actually starting to behave like the main character: NOT a good thing! To other people, the show was harmless; to me, it was poison.

What are spiritual allergies? Maybe a television show, chocolate, a novel, a friend, a sports team, a coveted job, a car, a significant other, or anything that is poison to your walk with God. We're all wired differently and have unique temptations. Legalism says, "If it's bad for me, it's bad for everyone." I'm not going there. There are things I can do that you can't, and things you can do that I can't. It's not something to be collectively banned, and it's not something for us to judge each other over. But wisdom would recommend that we avoid "foods" that poison us.

Sometimes it stinks when everyone is enjoying a pecan pie that looks so good, and I'm banned to the living room. But on a scale of one to ten, I give breathing the important rank of ten, and pecan pie a pretty worthless rank of one. Shouldn't an unhindered relationship with God be so much more important than anything else?