#NotMyEnemy

There is an epidemic of fear, hate, and bitterness running rampant on our globe right now. And for some reason we were momentarily lulled into the lie that America was immune.

I think it is safe to say we have had our wake up call.

And as my heart breaks over the strife and the pain, I have to shout it out: This is not the way.

This is not the end. It is not the end of our story.

It is the middle. The part where the characters try to make things right. And in the most intriguing stories I've read, usually the characters get it wrong a few times.

So I'm wondering this: since as Christians we live in the full knowledge that this is not the end of our story, are we willing to extend grace to the characters around us who mess things up? Or even admit that we could be messing up too?

Are we able to discern between those who are maliciously attempting to destroy lives, and those who simply think differently?

Are we willing to give them the benefit of the doubt that maybe, just maybe, those who disagree with us aren't the villains trying to destroy the world? Maybe we even have a bit of villainy in ourselves as well?

Maybe our battle is truly not against flesh and blood, "but against evil rulers and authorities of the unseen world, against mighty powers in this dark world, and against evil spirits in the heavenly places." (Eph. 6:12)

If my battle is not against a person, but against the powers of hell, then in all of my dealings with that person I must take one course of action every. single. time.

I must pray. I must pray for them. I may even need to pray with them.

I must look into the face of the people I believe are committing the vilest crimes against humanity and I absolutely must pray for them. Jesus told me to. Jesus prayed for me.


And when I just can't take it and I want to scream at those I see as my enemies, I have to remember that at one time I was an enemy of God. What did God choose to do with me at that time? Pursue me. Send His only Son to die for me. In His love and mercy and justice, He punished my sin on His Son. On His Son. And while it is completely contradictory to my sinful nature (COMPLETELY), He calls me to pick up my cross and do the same, to sacrifice the time He has given me on His altar. To offer up myself, indignation and all, and use His time to pray for His creatures, the very people He chose to create. The very ones He died for.


I don't want to do this. I have to. Not simply because God says so, but because there will always be another battle to fight- another person with whom I strongly disagree. Another person to rouse my "righteous" indignation. And if I allow myself to give in to the lie that these are my battles to fight alone, I will be embittered and angry forever- incapable of living in the thankfulness and joy to which God also implores me. I will have forgotten that God is God and I am not, and I will place myself in the judgment seat when I actually stand just as condemned as the person I am attacking.

I must view my neighbor through the lens of God in Christ Jesus. That is my only hope for peace and wisdom. The moment I forsake those lenses for my own fallen ones is the moment I bow to hopelessness and judgmental actions. Instead, I am called to bow before God alone. To utter "Thy will be done," and keep on living like the King is still on His throne. A heart that submits to the Lord is a heart that has hope even when they are in broken relationships at a broken time.  



So what should I do? Take action- but take it in the calm confidence of grace. Stand against injustice. Speak up for those who have no voice. Love my neighbor as myself. And realize that fighting hate with hate is pointless. As a mom who listened to "He started it, she started it," more times than I can count this morning, I do have to say hateful retaliation solves nothing. (Though I did congratulate them on cooperating with each other to drive me crazy.)



We have these words on our wall and I believe they rest there for such a time as this: "Darkness cannot drive out darkness. Only light can do that."- Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

We can only be lights in the darkness if we choose to answer temporal trials with the certainty of eternity. 

My words will only matter if I speak truth with the absolute assurance that my words are not coming from a heart smoldering with hatred, but from a heart burning with love for the victims and the criminals.

I can only do that if I first remember where I came from, where I stand with God because of Christ. 

And I must remember that true and lasting reconciliation comes only from God. No amount of organizing, and posting, and protesting can accomplish the work of changing hearts. That belongs to God. Which means that while I am responsible for my actions, I am not responsible for the results.

Seek justice, love mercy, walk humbly with your God. (Micah 6:8) May I be given the strength to live this way no matter what the future holds.

A Time to Celebrate

"So... there is just this stuff that squirts water at us?" My oldest sounded less than enthused. She'd never been to a splash pad. Neither had I for that matter.  

"Basically," I responded with some enthusiasm. "Let's just try it out. I've heard it's really great." And so as the temperature made its inevitable ascent, we 5 piled into the van for an adventure 30 minutes away. 

Let me just say the kids were totally impressed. We drove up to an enormous jungle gym coupled closely with the satisfyingly wet splash pad. Kids screaming as they careened through walls of water, little boys laughing recklessly as they sat on streams of water shooting from the ground. It was all hilarity and mayhem, and my kids fit right in. 

It's not lost on me that in the past days we have been celebrating, laughing even, while our nation mourns, while we shake our heads and wonder at the depths of depravity all around us. We have prayed. We have called for justice. And then we have smiled as our kids run abandoned through a park of water.  

We celebrated on Sunday as well. My husband celebrated 10 years in the pastoral ministry and the church banded together with funny t-shirts and prayers and a standing ovation. We ate delicious cake with purple frosting and took pictures to post on Facebook. 

I thought of those who were mourning. The people Scott preached about. Those who need the hope of Christ. And here is what hit me- we are to minister to those in pain, to comfort with the comfort we ourselves have received from God, but that comfort is nothing if we spend all our resources focusing on the injustice to the exclusion of the goodness God pours freely every single day. 

Rejoice in the Lord always. Give thanks in all circumstances. Taste and see that the Lord is good. Bless the Lord, O my soul and forget not all His benefits. 

My kids ran recklessly, showered, misted, doused with the refreshing water. And no amount of sorrow made them any less wet. The atrocities of humankind, and I am not ignoring that the acts taken recently have been particularly atrocious, cannot diminish the goodness of our God. We are saturated with His love. 

The schemes of the devil can in no way diminish the glory of our God. They cannot remove our salvation. They cannot reverse the atonement of Christ. They cannot put Jesus back in the tomb. They cannot rob me of the faith that is mine in Christ.  

And he knows this so he distracts us. He deceives us into thinking that our brooding and battle lines will do more good than giving glory to the only One who can defeat death and bring true peace. I thank God every time I see a post on Facebook that acknowledges the hurt and evil around us in light of the gospel. 

We are called to minister, to bind up, to cry out for justice. We are called to pray and seek God's will. We see all those things in the Psalms. We are not called to despair, become cynics, or doomsday prophets.   

There is a time for everything, but never a time to forget the goodness of God.

We are called to recognize and proclaim the saturating, penetrating, love of a God who grieves with us, but not like us, because even in the darkest times He knows He is working all things for good. And as that ethereal "good" proves too elusive for our fallen eyes, He gives us His Spirit. 

So I am trying again to be more intentional about celebrating God. To love, mourn, pray, listen, and celebrate deliberately. Because we should not let satan win his little battles in words of hopelessness and "what do we do now?" 

Thanks only to the God of the universe we are more than conquerors, and that is something worth seriously celebrating. 

Messy Monday: Messy and Blind

I took my life into my own hands last week. Or my legs at least.

With the increasing darkness around us (and I'm not speaking metaphorically here), morning runs have become significantly more treacherous and the sidewalks around this town are a mess. When we first moved here I wondered why everyone walked on the streets. Then I saw the sidewalks. Bingo.

So I was cruising enjoying that moist morning coolness when I saw headlights ahead. Out of courtesy to the drive and regard for my own life, I cut into the nearest yard and climbed onto the sidewalk.

Bad move.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I chanted to myself in the darkness as I leapt from block to block of sidewalk, bracing myself for the inevitable crack or chasm that would send me plummeting to the concrete floor beneath with any variety of twists, sprains, or breaks.

In the light, it's no big deal really. The dips, the rises, the cracks, are all perfectly visible. The light gives me depth perception. It gives me sight.

The other morning I was running alone and blind.

And it wasn't the first time.

 

Perhaps that's one of the most terrifying things about darkness. The illusion that you are alone.

Even the most dangerous circumstance seems somehow surmountable as long as there is someone with you. As long as you aren't all alone.

I taught my Sunday School kids yesterday that God separated the light from the darkness and for them it was a plain fact, but for me the fact burrowed into my own dark places...

There is no darkness that God does not control.

 

There is no place, no matter how dark, where God cannot be found.

 

If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me,
    and the light about me be night,”
even the darkness is not dark to you;
    the night is bright as the day,
    for darkness is as light with you.

Psalm 139:11-12

 

I could quote scripture after scripture about light and darkness.

 

How the light is hope.

 

How the light overcomes.

 

How the light is Jesus.

 

And crossing from darkness to light, there are no verses more meaningful.

 

 But for the sake of those around us, groping through darkness, believing the deception that they are all alone, scared to death, I give you this: 

 

 For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.

2 Corinthians 4:5-7

 

Sometimes those of us who walk in the light forget how larger-than-our-weak-little-selves the darkness was.

 

We forget the despair.

 

We like to pretend this is the way it always was.

 

Because to admit otherwise might expose those dark places that we would really rather keep to ourselves.

 

And why would we, having certainly escaped the judgment of God through the blood of His Son, offer up our lives to be judged by others?

 

Because we are living sacrifices. Because that is our cross.

 

Because there is no place where light is more glorious than when it is shining in the midst of palpable blackness.

 

Because no one is ever really alone.

 

Because people are dying in darkness, and we have a God of light.

 

Because Jesus did it for us.

 

Because all the power really belongs to Him anyway.

 

And we are sons and daughters of the King. A royal priesthood, a chosen nation.

 

 

It's a get well card for a friend who suffered a similar injury to what she endured.

 

Sometimes that's all it takes.

 

Lord, open our eyes to the pain and darkness around us today. Let us be lights to shine Your glory in ways that cannot be ignored. Pour out Your love in the world around us and give us the heart of Your Servant to be vessels of that love. Amen.



Five Minute Friday: Jump

For Five Minutes this Friday I went somewhere I don't normally go. Why the prompt "Jump" would bring me there I have no idea, but that is part of the fun of this exercise. No editing, no backtracking, no fancy-fying are three blind mice that open eyes in writers as much as readers. So I took the five minutes and gave the five minutes back. If you want to join me and the other AMAZING writers around the world doing this very prompt, check out the Five Minute Friday link at the bottom of the right hand column. Or just go and read the other blogs. But first, read this.

GO

They’re coming for us.

It is uttered from the dark.

Who’s they?

I don’t know yet. But they are.

And they won’t rest until they get every last one of us.

And it’s a phrase spoken not in fear, but as fact. I give my husband 15-20 years before he’s jailed for his Gospel proclamations.

Because, for the first time, I see the battle raging on the homefront and the enemy’s tactics increasingly clear, and I see him gaining ground.

I mentally prepare the young troups. Strategies cry out and I feel the desperation of a leader in battle. We must be ready.

I wake this morning and turn on my 2-dimensional trainer.

It’s plyometrics today- “jump training,” Tony calls it.

“You’ll jump higher,” he promises.

“You’ll run faster.”

I believe he even says I’ll “beat the panties” off anyone else.

And my heart and lungs will be stronger than ever.

So I jump.

My knees protest. My thighs, my feet, my mind, my heart- a deafening chorus of protest.

But I jump.

And I pump.

I extend.

I swivel, pivot, raise, and the fancy plates on the wall join the protestations.

Yet, I jump.

And the burning in my legs and heart and lungs tell me that I am doing the hard things to prepare for the battle.

And I open the Word. And I do the hard things. I train. I jump.

Not so I can be the best jumper. My husband coaches better jumpers than I.

Not so I can be the best Biblical scholar. I’m light-years behind so many.

Because I will face physical battles, and the jumping will ease the blow.

Because the spiritual powers wage their battles as well, and I have a God who is mightier than anyone can imagine. And He is my trainer. And the battle will be waged. And the war will be won.

And that makes all this jumping more than worth it.

 

STOP

What You Can Do When You Can't Do Anything



He must be the father of lies, because when that serpent enticed Eve to eat, he said her eyes would be opened.

 

So why can we see no farther than my three year old on a walk through the park?

 

 

 

Why is swimming in sin described as being covered by darkness?

 

We hear about a blind man leading another blind man.

 

And they both fall into the pit.

 

Is it just me or does it seem like this world is just one big heap of blind men leading each other into pits, and dragging every sorry soul down with them?

 

And we talk to them about finding Jesus. Look at my daughter. Who is she finding? If not for her mother, she would have bit it hard and her face would have found nothing but concrete lickety-split.

 

Find Jesus? Friend, most people can't find their way out of their own circumstances, let alone past them to search for a Messiah they aren't even sure exists. Uh-uh. I've seen people looking. Looking hard. But to be honest, it's only when they are down in a pit so utterly devoid of light that they find Him.

 

Because He found them first.

 

Maybe it isn't that hard for everyone. Maybe it's just me and a select few that have had to grope in the darkness. Maybe there are those people, those women, who one day said, "Ready or not, here I come," and found the Lord right where they were. Maybe.

 

But the scene I'm picturing is more like one in those prison movies. Like The Shawshank Redemption. Being thrown into the "hole." 

 

Steep in that a second. Solitary confinement. It's the particularly egregious sins that land you there. My most flagrant sins had me there. A solitary soul confined to an impenetrable cell of sin.

 

And then the door swings open and the light shines in.

 

And you're either facing the merciless warden from Shawshank who tells you that there is no grace for you. You are a prisoner for life. (Yes, that message does come out of the mouths of those who claim to represent the Light.)

 

Or, you simply face the Light. The blinding light that opens your eyes on a road that would otherwise lead to your utter destruction. The illuminating light that reveals that you never really were solitary in your confinement because, you see, Christ was there with you. 

 

You were never really alone.

 

You still aren't.

 

Some would say that's well and good, but what about those stumbling beggars outside our doors leading parades into pits and leaving others to grieve over their fallen loved ones?

 

And what if I, this sinner-saint, am not really shielding my eyes from the sun, but from the Son?

 

And they are dragging me down too.

 

And I'm tired of fighting.

 

Then take these words. Take this courage. Do not be afraid to open your eyes and stare directly at the Son as you read His lips:

 

The Lord sets the prisoners free;

the Lord opens the eyes of the blind.

The Lord lifts up those who are bowed down;

the Lord loves the righteous.

The Lord watches over the sojourners;

He upholds the widow and the fatherless,

but the way of the wicked He brings to ruin.

Psalm 146:7b-9

 

The Lord. Anyone else think we should leave the worrying to Him? Anyone else think it's time to lay down our weapons, and lay down our palms on the road to honor the King of the universe?

 

Anyone else think it's time to lay it all down?

 

I once was lost, but now am found. Was blind, but now I see.

 

In our passivity- Christ's activity. Who needs the strength of God unless they are weak in themselves?

 

Hope is good only for those who know that all other signs point to hopeless.

 

It's the sick that need a doctor.

 

For those of us who have done the stumbling, felt the ache- to watch those who are where we have been is excruciating. We can't remove the hand they use to cover their eyes. Only the Spirit can lift that veil. If you think that is your job, you will rob yourself of that relationship, and many nights' sleep.

 

If you think that is your job, hear the words of Beth Moore: Fire yourself.

 

But here is what we can do: we can take their other hand. The one that isn't fighting the Son, if there is one. And we can whisper the Son's light onto and into their lives so that, despite their dark vision, they can't help but feel His warmth kiss their cheek.

 

Paul described this Christian life of testimony in tribulation to the Thessalonians:

 

Rejoice always,

pray without ceasing,

give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.

~1Thessalonians 5:16-18

 

That courageous, transparent faith in the midst of the dark nights of our days-

that is a witness that cannot be ignored.