The Well

Once upon a time, there was a small stone cottage at the edge of a forest.  A small family lived there, perfectly content as they had everything they needed. A stream ran nearby, filling their clearing with gentle music.  A well provided sweet fresh water for their every need while their garden plot proved fertile, growing enough to eat, preserve and sell. The family spent their days working hard and their evenings resting content in a good day's labour. Life wasn't easy, but it was good. They were content.

 One day, a traveller came to their door. As was their custom, the mother welcomed him in. She offered him a simple meal and something to drink. Being very proud of their sweet well water, she handed him a glass while praising its health benefits and delicious taste. Instead of receiving it well, her visitor reacted as if she had handed him a snake. He launched into a diatribe on how irresponsible drinking from a well was. He sniffed the water and gagged, as if she had handed him a glass of vomit. Gathering the rest of the family together, he marched them outside and proceeded to harangue the family until they too believed that the well was bad. Together, they proceeded to stop up the well so never again would anyone be subjected to such horrible water.

 Shortly after, the stranger moved on. His task was done. The family was in shock, dismayed that they had been so foolish as to believe that their well was good.  They shook their heads, cheeks bright with embarrassment as they remembered every time they had offered their water to strangers, neighbours and friends. How could they have been so stupid? Why didn't anyone tell them before? Had their village been laughing at them all these years?

 The family began hauling their water from the nearby stream. It was hard, heavy work. The water from the stream didn't taste as good and in certain seasons, needed to be boiled and strained before drinking. Gone were the days of hauling up a dipper from the well for a quick drink. Sometimes the stream's flow dried up and water had to be rationed.  The family that had always been so clean, now began to wear dirty clothes and stretch out washing days as to save on water. They drank more coffee and tea to hide the bitter taste of the water.  Those happy content days soon became just a hazy memory.

 Years passed. Years of hard, grinding toil. The boarded up well became a symbol of shame to the family. It stood as a monument to their bad judgement. How could they have recklessly endangered their friends and family? How could they have drank such filth and thought it good? Sometimes, when such feelings were strong, they added another layer to the boards covering the well.  It stood, a wooden structure in the middle of the clearing, in the midst of an increasingly run down homestead.

 One day another stranger came to visit. The family had little to share now, but they humbly offered him some tea or coffee. He asked for a glass of cold water. The mother, now old and stooped, explained that they only had boiled water and that it was bitter.  He nodded, puzzled. "But I heard you had a well, of sweet sweet water. That's why I sought out your farm. Years ago my friend passed this way and you offered him some. He said in all his years, he's never had sweeter".

 "You must be mistaken" said the father. "Yes, we had a well, but it wasn't sweet. It was dangerous and dirty. We boarded it up long ago to keep everyone safe".

 "No, I'm sure it was here" said the traveller. He walked out and to everyone's amazement, he began to tear down the structure. It was hard, hot labour. At first, the family watched in shock. But soon, one of the boys began to help. He had fond memories of that well and had never really believed the stranger's words of disgust. Eventually, the walls were torn down and the well uncovered. The boy ran to fetch a bucket. In all the years of disuse, the well had not dried up. It hadn't soured or gone bad. As they pulled up the pail, the whole family smelt sweet clear water for the first time in years. How had they gone without it? Why had they allowed someone else to disparage their well and change their opinions? The family shook their heads, wondering how on earth they allowed a stranger to influence them so strongly. They drank deeply, rejoicing in the clear sweet goodness.

 This is me. I have allowed others to influence my opinion of myself. My good gifts have been called bad, so I stopped using them. I locked them away, ashamed of my bad judgement. How dare I offer up something so flawed? Was everyone laughing at me?  Now I come to realize that those words weren't true. I do have things to offer. I am seeking to bring those gifts back out into the open. It's a hard slow process, to tear down the lies that have defined my life for years.

Faith

 What is faith? I could quote some verses at you about what faith is and how powerful it is.  Faith is the substance of things hoped for; the evidence of things unseen. A little tiny bit of faith moves mountains. Faith is what brings us into right relationship with God.  Faith is believing in what we cannot see.

 And yet for many of us, faith is a fence. It's a word that delineates all we believe in.  It outlines what we can and cannot do, what we can and cannot think. It isolates us from a large portion of society while simultaneously making us family with people from every tribe and tongue.  Faith shapes us, moulds us, defines us.

 But what if faith is more than this?

 For years I followed set paths. I grew up walking the path of Legalism. Being a Christian had some very clear expectations. If I didn't meet those standards, then I wasn't a Christian, or at least not a very good one.  I tried very hard, reading through my Bible multiple times, spending large amounts of time in prayer. Yet Legalism didn't advance my faith, it just tore holes in it.

 Then I discovered grace. I left Legalism behind without even a word of farewell.  I started walking a new path, one of Intelligent Belief. I scorned my former behaviour and set about creating a new way to live. Being relevant and relational were key words on this path. As part of my church, I set goals to grow in my faith, to bring others to Christ. I walked confidently on this path and then watched everything I wanted and work for crumble.

 I'll be honest. Walking away from my faith looked really good.  Walking away from life had its appeal as well.  How could God let me down? Didn't I have faith in Him? Didn't I trust Him? Wasn't I doing what He asked of me?  For two years I wrestled with these thoughts.

 I felt like I was walking through a jungle. The overgrowth was wild and ferocious, the critters even more so.  Yes, the jungle is beautiful but it's also terrifying. Thankfully I had a map. As long as I stuck to the clearly delineated paths I would be okay. But the further I got into the jungle, the less sense my map made.  I was confused and frustrated. This map was THE map for safe passage through. What was wrong with me that I couldn't understand it?

 And just as I became overwhelmed with despair, a beautiful golden butterfly fluttered by.  Bathed in a golden light, it waggled its wings at me.  That's when I knew.  I had to follow it.  Dropping my map, I charged off into the jungle. My companions hollered after me, warning me of the dangers, beseeching me to come back.  But I couldn't shake this compulsion, didn't want to shake it. Soon their voices faded into the background jungle noise.

 The journey wasn't easy.  Following the butterfly didn't guarantee a safe passage. I bore wounds from a thorn bush I fell into, scratches from an encounter with a jungle cat. But still I ran. And when I saw the clearing up ahead, I kept going. Even when I realised that the ambient sounds of the jungle were being drowned out by a new sound, I kept going.  When my foot hit the edge of the cliff, I didn't hesitate or try to scramble backwards. Instead I lept into the abyss, knowing that wherever I was going, it would be good.

 And this is what faith is. It isn't easy or predictable. It's a mad dash at times, a leap of faith. It's a chasing of the Wild Goose, a plunging into the unknown.  This wild unknowing following isn't easy, it certainly isn't popular. And I really don't recommend it without wise people who can help you discern God's voice. But even as my life heads into territory where all I can do is trust God, I feel the safest and most secure that I have ever felt. For although hard, unexpected, unpleasant things have happened, I know that God has never let go of me. Instead He has led to me greener pastures, to stiller waters and He is restoring my soul.

 So then what is faith?

 Faith is unexpected. It's a journey, an adventure, a running away. It's personal, unique and if you let it, faith will change your life forever.  In short, faith is a gift. Will you take it?

Shedding Expectations

 Driving home the other night, the old demons awoke and began to strangle me.  Down down down into the abyss of doubt, doom and despair I fell.  I wanted to hurt, wanted to yell, to scream, to allow the anger to fill me until I exploded and was no more.  In this deep despair, I begged God for a sign.  Asked, once more, for some tangible proof that He still loves me, that I'm not the worthless reject I've been labelled.

 All was silent.  I wanted words that said "I was wrong", or "You are missed", or "Our community is weaker without you".  I turned to my computer, hoping for a message from God there.  My inbox held ads for restaurants, savings to be had on kids clothing and shoes, and a praise report from Austria, but nothing personal, nothing that spoke of regret.  I wondered then, as I have wondered, if God mourns the ripping apart of community, the rejection by his people.

  Being rejected by a church damages one's view of God.

 I stood in church the next day, still broken and battered.  Music washed over me.  Unable to be still, I lifted my voice and then, in that moment of corporate worship, a realization swept over me.  Healing will come.  It won't be the way I want it, nor will it come from the places I long for it to come.  I want to be vindicated by others' regret.  Yet that would not be true healing.  It's hard to lay aside these hopes and desires, to realize the restoration and reconciliation I have longed for most likely won't happen on this earth.  Slowly, I strip off the layers of anger and hope-deferred to step naked of all expectations into the healing embrace of the Father, choosing to trust, each day new, that healing, full perfect and complete, will come.

Tossed about: James Chapter 1

Sometimes the Word of God just reaches up and smacks me in the face.

 My heart is divided.  I don't want it to be, but it is.  Sometimes I even try to pretend that my heart is whole, just a little cracked.  But the reality is that I waver between being faith-filled and consumed by doubt.   One moment I'm moving forward in faith, trusting in God's goodness; the next I'm cowering in fear, consumed by doubt and pain.  It's hard to get anything accomplished while living on see-saw.

 James has harsh words for me:

Do not waver, for a person with divided loyalty is as unsettled as a wave of the sea that is blown and tossed by the wind.  Such people should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. Their loyalty is divided between God and the world, and they are unstable in everything they do.    

James 1:6-8

His words describe me well.  I am unstable, trusting that God is good one moment and then overwhelmed  with the notion that He has abandoned me or is capricious the next.  My life reflects this as does my faith. It's hard to invest in my relationship with God when I'm unconvinced of His character.  And how can God answer my prayers when I spend half of my time accusing Him? 

 I've repented of my divided heart, asked for forgiveness and healing.  I want to trust God, I want to move forward in faith. So now I make the choice.  I choose to trust God, to trust that He is indeed good and that His mercies do endure forever.  Not only that, but I'm actively looking for His mercies, the blessings of protection, beauty and goodness that He strews along my path. 

 I'm climbing off this see-saw and running for the beach, where I will dive headlong into the ocean of His grace. 

 I'm writing with Marla today as we study the book of James. Join with us? 

Desert Wanderings

 I've been wandering in the desert these past two years.  It's hostile here; even the temperature changes are extreme.  There is life here, but it's hard to find and either prickly or poisonous.  But somehow, in this hostile, intemperate land, I have fashioned an existence for myself.  It's meager living at best, but it's something.

 I've gotten comfortable here. I know the rocks, the wind, the sand. Each holds a story-most of them about betrayal and loneliness.  There are many stories here.  I am never alone, never lost because I remember the pain.  Alone in the desert, I won't forget. I won't get fooled into getting hurt again.  Somehow it's safer in this wild place.

 But now it's time to leave.  I know that deep down, my time here is done.  There are new places to explore, fertile countries with a more moderate climate, abundant vegetation, open water and no scorpions.  It sounds like heaven. My heart should be rejoicing, I should be packing my bags and heading out...but I'm not.

 I'm scared.  I know this place.  It isn't much, but it's home. It hurts here, yes.  But it's old hurt. I can't be fooled here. Out there, in the lush place of abundance, there will be many opportunities to be wounded. I may get tricked again.  Where will I be then?  I can't see myself heading back into the desert, having to relearn living here all over again. Could I survive having to return?

 The questions swirl around in my head. I ignore them, pack my bags, and head out into a scary new adventure.

Questioning God's character

 Something about waiting on a baby causes me to ponder God's plans and goodness.  Over the course of the last few years, I've had reason to question God's sovereignty.  Is God truly sovereign? Is He good? And are His plans for me good?  Oftentimes in the heat of the moment, the answer to all of the above appears to be a big fat NO.

 Questioning God's goodness is not something that goes over well in the church.  The standard answer is that of course God is good and that everything negative is a result of sin.  In theory, I agree with these statements.  But in the thick of it, when everything seems to be crumbling, those sometimes pat answers don't hold water.  During some of the darkest times last year, I wondered if God was sadistic, deriving pleasure from watching us struggle.  Perhaps He derived amusement from watching us obey time after time, even when the consequences of obedience were hard.  At times, I could picture Him up in heaven calling to the angels "Come check out these suckers! After all of that, they're going to obey! Again! Man, these humans are hysterical!" Thoughts like these do not go over well in the church, let me tell you.

 I have wrestled not only with God's goodness, but also with His justice. Is God just? Does he truly punish those who do wrong?  After months of questioning(and feeling guilty over said questioning), it was a relief to realize that  Job also wrestled with this.  He flat-out accused God of closing the eyes of judges so that evildoers remained unpunished.  Among other things, Job also suggested that God is capricious and selfish, thinking only of what will bring Him pleasure. As Job recognized that God is all-powerful and was responsible only to Himself, Job only asked that God kill him quickly.  Strangely, God's response was not to strike Job with lightening or swallow him in the earth.  Instead God asked a series of questions revealing His awesome power and knowledge that was far from any human abilities.  With that, Job was satisfied.

 I don't know that I would be, yet. I want answers that aren't vague, ones that focus on the situation rather than on God's character.  But during this time of trial, although my questions have to do with what has happened on the surface, I have come to realize that it is God's character that I am challenging.  There is much that I don't understand. Like my client wrote to me this morning, "this is definitely a time when I wish God gave us His plans in writing".  I wonder what we would see, if in heaven, we could see God's plans overlaid with ours on some sort of cosmic life map.  Would I continue to question God's character or I would rejoice in His supremacy?

 Baby will be making an appearance shortly, so off to the hospital I go.

Theology and Holiness

 The internet seems to be brimming with an angry mob mentality currently with prominent Christian bloggers loosing attacks on everyone from Rob Bell to Ann Voskamp.  It may just be those two being attacked, but really? Anyhoo...No, they're not being attacked because they've sinned grievously but because of their theology.  Now I do understand the importance of sound theology, but a disagreement over theology should not justify some of the vicious personal attacks going on.

 I may be very wrong, but I don't really care about theology.  I should probably clarify that I hold to some rather conservative theological viewpoints, and I do understand the importance of sound doctrine.  After all, I have read the warnings about false teachers. Scary stuff.  In my own life, I've seen what happens when theology gets twisted.  It ain't pretty.  But all the same, I don't really care.  You can debate all you like whether the rapture is pre, mid or post-trib or women's role in ministry.  Talk about hell, what constitutes observing the Sabbath, whether or not we can eat pork.  Just leave me out of it.  I may offer some interesting perspective, but for the most part I really don't care.  (I do however have some opinions on whether or not a Christian should eat halal meat.  Technically, that counts as food offered to a false god.  Paul is fairly clear that we are freed from those laws and can eat whatever we feel we should, but I still think it's a very interesting dilemma that we typically don't think about.  For the record, I do eat halal meat occasionally because disrespecting my friends' deeply held beliefs would be a stumbling block between them and the gospel. Oh, and because M*slims have very good food. Mmmm...shawarma....)

 The problem with theology is that for the most part it is pretty abstract.  Some of it, like women's role in ministry, impacts how church actually works, but for the most part all of our arguments about the rapture, predestination, hell, etc don't impact the here and now.  And for me, that's what I'm most concerned about.  Yeah, not ending up in a lake of burning fire is a bonus, but I'm much more aware of what the consequences of salvation are right now.  Colossians 1 v13 says that God has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son He loves.  Did you just read that? We are rescued! We are set free from all the sin and bondage that enslave us.  Having been terribly enslaved, I am loving that verse.  Although it has been a very bumpy road, this freedom in Christ, being brought out of darkness into light and redemption has transformed my life.  When I look around at my friends, family, children, neighbours, this is what I want for them.  Yes, I don't want any of the people in my life to go to hell, but I long to see them live lives transformed, to know the glorious peace and freedom that comes from this relationship with God.  My heart is in the present, not the future.

 Not only are we set free, we are transformed.  This may be my favourite part of the gospel, that we are filled with the Holy Spirit's power and can be forever changed.  Sometimes we get this idea that the fruits of the Spirit are ideas to aspire to rather than real changes that happen in us as we believe.  As we pursue God, we are made righteous by our simple belief.  I love seeing the changes happen in my life when I draw near, the gentle response in tough situations that is not my natural reaction.  It's hard to put this into words, but I am blown away by the changes I see in my life and in the lives of others when they allow the Spirit to work.  I'm not talking about people trying harder and living fake lives, but rather a very real transformation out of sin and towards holiness.  It blows my mind.

 So really all that theological stuff I mentioned earlier doesn't really do it for me.  Why? Not because I don't believe it is important, but because my energy and focus is on the very real transformational power possible only through the shed blood of Christ and the indwelling of the Holy Spirit.  If I'm going to get up in arms about anything, it would be regarding our culture's indifference to such things, to the fruit of the Spirit and to the concept of real and possible holiness.  Nope, I'm not talking about legalism(been there, done that, gave back the t-shirt), but rather a drawing towards God and away from the world.  We shouldn't be competing to see how worldly we can be while still embracing the Christian label.  Neither should we be secluding ourselves from our culture and only taking part in "Christian" things.  Somewhere in there should be a middle ground where we are part of our culture and yet set apart by in the indisputable presence of God.

 If I am going to get up in arms about anything, this will be it.  Let others argue about the existence of hell or possible depth of our relationship with God.  I'll be over here with my cup of tea mulling over how best to reach those around me for Christ or how to raise my children to be relevant and yet different, Christ-like even.  I'll also be the one who gets all passionate and loud about the amazing power of Christ that breaks the bonds of our sins, addictions, habits and junk.  I have no desire to go back to when I was uber-conservative and bound up in sin.  Because of the profound freedom and changes I experienced, I'm also gonna be the one sitting there praying for our youth who may love Jesus but look, act and sound just like the church.  I'm going to be the friend that initiates some hard conversations on what following Christ looks likes practically.  I'm also going to be the girl that screws up lots, and so speaks from desperate experience as to the transforming power of the Holy Spirit.   If it weren't for Him, I'd be screwed.

 I respect that there are a lot of Christians with some strong opinions and voices.  It would just be nice if that strength was directed towards calling us as a body towards holiness instead of attacking people over theology.