While reading the story of Jesus walking on water to my kids tonight, I thought of a song by Don Francisco called Voyage to Gennesaret.  If you haven’t ever heard of it, I understand…it’s probably a few decades old.  But anyway, I sang it (rather poorly) for my kids, then proceeded to find it on youtube, which led me find a song (also by Don Francisco) that was my absolute favorite song from the time I was, like, five (?) into my late teens.  I’m not normally a “folk music” kind of person, but really, I don’t usually care much about the style of music if the message is good.  And as it happens, I love the messages in a LOT of Don Francisco songs.  But, today, I thought I would just share with you a link for He’s Alive.  ‘Cause it’s still one of my absolute favorites.

This past week has been a hard one.  Some weeks are, I guess.  We had 3 kids throwing up on and off until yesterday.  Tim got a cold mid-week, and now I have it, too.  We are exhausted and frustrated and overwhelmed.

This seems to be how life goes, lately, though.  Lots of “little” things chipping away at our time, our motivation, our resolve, our hope, our joy…and very little, if anything, to offer strength or encouragement or peace.  As we struggle to understand God’s plans and purposes and promises, it feels as though the little understanding we have gets tested and tried, and leaves us wondering what the point of this all is.

We’ve had some disillusionment and some disappointment, yet we look back on things where we clearly felt God leading us and try to cling to the knowledge that He knows what He’s doing, and it will be for our good.  We find ourselves constantly coming before Him…admittedly, not always with the best attitudes, but with the knowledge that He is the only One who can sustain and strengthen and somehow lead us through this wilderness we find ourselves wandering.

There are times we feel desperate for someone to come alongside us…to encourage or rebuke or pray…but in the absence of that, we are learning more and more that God has to be enough for us, that His word has to be the standard for our faith, that this life isn’t really about us, anyway.  It is hard, though, and we’re tired.

 
Yet, this I call to mind and therefore I have hope – because of the Lord’s great love we  are not consumed, for His compassions never fail; they are new every morning.  Great is Your faithfulness.  I say to myself, “the Lord is my portion, therefore I will wait for Him”.  The Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him, to the One who seeks Him.  It is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord. — Lamentations 3:21-26

On my mind today…

And you have forgotten that word of encouragement that addresses you as sons: “My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son.” Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as sons. For what son is not disciplined by his father? If you are not disciplined (and everyone undergoes discipline), then you are illegitimate children and not true sons.  Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of our spirits and live!  Our fathers disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. —Hebrews 12:5-11
A couple things struck me about this today.  The first is that it is described as a “word of encouragement” that we are disciplined by the Lord.  I guess maybe I am stuck a little bit in the 5-year old mentality, but I don’t naturally feel encouraged when I experience the Lord’s discipline and punishment.  I tend to wonder if I have messed up beyond hope.  I think that God must be so disappointed in me…and sometimes, rather than seeing the discipline for what it is, I mistake it for God abandoning me to my own devices because He just doesn’t care to deal with me any more.  The reality, though, is just the opposite.  He loves me.  I am His child.  Discipline shows His faithfulness to me.  And in that light, it is truly encouraging.

I thought about hardship as discipline, and discipline as a necessary component to the lives of God’s children.  While I do usually equate hardship with discipline, I often take it to mean I have failed in some huge way and that things aren’t going well for me because I didn’t do everything right.  And I suppose, on some very general level, that might be true.  Without sin in my life, things would probably be a lot easier, but I think the bigger picture here is that God is using the hardship to refine and make me better, not to make me miss out on something because I messed up…and that it is the life that lacks hardship and discipline that should be cause for concern.

And I thought about the statement that “no discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful”.  See, sometimes, I think that “if my faith was stronger”, discipline would just roll off my back – that I would recognize it for what it is, learn my lesson and move on with relative ease.  But no.  It is painful.  Chances are, I won’t like it.  But, later on, I will benefit from it.  Some day, I will see the good God has worked through discipline in me.  And that’s the perspective that gives me hope in the midst of trial – trusting in God’s faithfulness and ability to see beyond my present circumstance…and knowing that it’s okay that it’s sometimes hard.

If you were to ask me whether there is any person equal to God in goodness, holiness, justice, wisdom…or the like…I would certainly say “of course not!”.  It’s ludicrous, right?  But you know what?  I think somewhere in the depths of my heart, there is some tendency to believe otherwise.

When I see something that [I perceive] is a flaw in a Christian that I normally respect and admire, I often end up projecting my disappointment on God.  I wonder how God could allow such a flaw/sin/misconception to exist in someone who is supposedly living their life for Him.

And in the midst of one such moment of wondering, I happened to be listening to a song that proclaims “You are holy, holy, holy…” and I was struck by the simple fact that He is being praised because of His holiness…in part, because it is something that is unique to Him.  He reminded me that He is holy, but every person I will ever meet is a sinner, has weaknesses, lacks infinite wisdom – and my faith, my hope, my peace can never rest in another person.

I know it’s true that God will work through His people – even though wrought with imperfection – but I need to make certain I realize that God’s not surprised or limited by those imperfections, that He is faithful even when we’re not, that He is our judge, and that He has given us His Word as a standard by which to make sure that what we’re hearing and believing is truth.  Because we’re human and He’s not.  He’s better than us.

Thankful…

…for a husband who cooked me a Valentine’s Day dinner (a day early)…including the most perfectly cooked salt potatoes ever (I know, it seems like a small thing, but they were really good).

…for a four year old who hums in the shower

…that when I unknowingly turn on the wrong burner on the stove, and then set a rubberized oven mitt on it, it is warm enough outside that I can open all of the doors to air out the smell without freezing everyone in the house.

…for energy, motivation, and the necessary gastrointestinal fortitude to vacuum this morning.

…for a daughter who thoughtfully got clothes out for her brother this morning.

…for sunshine.

…for maternity pants, even when I need them much too early on in pregnancy.

…for a two year old who is finally learning to say “please”.

…for a second grader who is a great independent learner.

…that there is no longer “pink slime” in McDonald’s burgers…’cause I really love Big Macs.

…for a God who is continually revealing Himself to me and teaching me and and reminding me that He has my life in His hands.

His grace flows down and covers me.

It covers me.  It covers me.  It covers me.  And covers me.

These lyrics struck me this morning in church.  I’ve sung them a lot, but never gave them much thought before.  Today, though, I thought about being covered by God’s grace.  I thought about how I often approach grace as something that is there to fill in the “gaps” in my righteousness.  I thought about how I act as though there might not be enough grace to stretch out over all of my imperfections.  I thought about how I perceive others to need less of a covering of grace because of how good they seem to be at getting things right.  Then, I thought about how none of us is good…not even one.  I thought about how my righteousness is as filthy rags to Him.  I thought about how none of my striving could make me better in His eyes.

And I thought about the fact that I am covered by His grace.  Covered.  All of me.  All of my sin.  All of my “righteousness”.  Everything.  He has covered me, and in so doing, has made me righteous before Him.  I know it’s pretty simple theology, but all too often, I live my life in ignorance of it.  I feel the weight of trying to manufacture my own righteousness, and the hopelessness of failing again and again, when at every moment, His grace is there covering me with a righteousness I could never earn or use up.  What freedom there is in knowing that!  His goodness amazes me still.

When I hear or read about the “best” ways to train, discipline, and teach my children, I usually end up feeling like I have gone horribly wrong somewhere.  After all, these ideas that get talked about really sound good – great, even.  They are full of compassion and grace, consistency and gospel.  Love is communicated even while discipline is carried out.  And honestly, the way I raise my kids looks nothing like this.

I have wrestled with God over this, and it’s not simply an issue of my lack of discipline in the matter (which, I admit, is a problem).  The problem I face is that even when I want and try to address problematic behaviors the “right” way, it feels completely wrong to me.  For one thing, I am not an effusive person…and I somehow feel like my kids will sense insincerity if I follow some scripted program for dealing with their sin.  For another thing, I myself don’t respond favorably to anything I perceive to be sugar-coated…I tend to actually prefer a blunt, perhaps more harsh, explanation…otherwise I feel like I’m being patronized.

I also have a very different perception of how God deals with me than how these ideas suggest we deal with our kids.  That’s not to say that He doesn’t deal that way with some, nor is it to say that my perception of how He deals with me is any less loving and gracious…it’s just different.  So, maybe, I can deal differently with my kids than someone else deals with theirs, and it can be okay.  Maybe the Bible doesn’t outline specifics, because methods aren’t hard-and-fast.  Maybe my heart for the Lord and my heart for my children matter more than my techniques.  So, maybe I should just focus on doing better at those things I know for sure are failings on my part, and not worry about the rest.  I’m sure, even in this – even through me, that God can work

I was throwing up yesterday.  Part of it was because I had a massive headache caused by clogged sinuses.  Most of it was because I am almost 10 weeks pregnant with our newest little one.  Yesterday was the first time this pregnancy I failed to keep food down…otherwise my stomach has only caused me problems in the morning when my stomach is still empty.  Not terribly pleasant, but better than usual, as far as pregnancies go for me.  Still, there is exhaustion, and weight gain (8 pounds so far…ugh), and “pregnancy brain”…which takes effect earlier with each pregnancy.

Life is forced to a snail’s pace around here…well, for me at least.  Schoolwork for the kids is pretty bare-bones, dinners are only firmly decided in the hour or so before meal-time…much too often, not what was in my meal plan…, housework has been almost entirely out of my hands, and I find that reclining on the couch for long periods of time is just not as appealing as it once seemed.

I would be lying if I said this is the part of pregnancy that I miss once the baby is here.  The truth is, this is the part of pregnancy that I most easily forget, and it’s probably best that way.  It’s not just hard on me, but on everyone.  My kids find themselves with less routine, but a lot more random tasks assigned them, and my husband takes over everything else…he puts aside projects and “down-time” to wash dishes and fold laundry and get me food and go shopping.

“Productivity” isn’t a word that describes our life these days…but, with an obvious exception.  The tiny little life that is being knit together inside me.  It’s easy to get to the end of the day and feel unaccomplished, overwhelmed, unsure if all those things being set aside will eventually get done.  But, really, the point of it all is so much more than worth it.  The unseen miracle being fashioned and formed in the womb may take some effort and energy, sometimes inadvertently attributed to a lesser purpose (ie, satisfying a craving for a cheeseburger), but to know that the “reward” for these sacrifices is a life – that knowledge give perspective, and humbles, and astounds me.

Because, really, I don’t have the first clue how to create life, but yet, there is life being created in me.  A precious, perfect life…dependent on me, but held by the hands of his or her Creator.  There’s no project or pursuit that can compare with that.

There are a lot of things going through my head that I think I would like to write about.  But, somehow, when I try, nothing comes out right.  Maybe I’m trying too hard, maybe I just don’t have a firm grasp on what I’m thinking, or maybe those things are just not meant to be said by me, right now.  Still, I want to write something that will express some part of the jumbled thoughts that I can’t seem to untangle, so I’m giving it another try.

I think my biggest hindrance in writing about things lately is that I’ve had difficulty seeing God’s redemptive workings in the midst of struggle these past several weeks.  And I am honestly striving to not write without somehow expressing how God has revealed his goodness to me through my circumstances. Yet, at the same time, I don’t want to paint a picture that shows more faith, or more insight, or more hope than I honestly have.

The reality is that I am struggling to see His face.  I find myself with conflicting desires and questionable motives, and at the end of the day, I sometimes feel like He’s just not okay with the meager offering I bring.  I tell myself that He’s not going to listen, or answer, or care until I can get “it” right.  And it can seem like circumstances support that.  There’s confusion in my soul.  My days are filled with unrest – physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually.  It seems like the “devourer” is taking ground away from me.  I feel defeated and I wonder where it was along the way that I lost the battle.  I yearn for His presence, but I don’t know how to get there.

Most days, this is the condition of my heart and mind.

Sounds fairly absent of any understanding of God’s goodness, huh?  So, I avoid writing about it and I try to wrestle through it until I have an answer for why this is my portion right now.  I haven’t figured out the why, yet, though.  My vision is blurred and my soul is weary. The current condition of my faith feels hopeless.

But that doesn’t mean I am without hope.

Beneath all the wavering, crumbling walls that I have built, and sometimes tried to tear down, is an immovable foundation, and I always feel it firmly under my feet.  And though there are so many ways in which my faith is small and the meditations of my heart need to be brought into submission to Christ, God is gracious enough to give me reminders of His goodness – a moment of inexplicable peace in my soul, songs that have been on my heart being sung during worship at church, knowing that other people hear God saying some of the same things I’ve been hearing Him say – reminders that aren’t answers to my current struggles, but that help me to remember that I matter to Him, and that He is faithful to complete the good work He has begun in me.

I have thought a lot in recent months about being hidden in Christ.  Lost.  Unable to find myself…after all “he that finds his life shall lose it, but he who loses his life for My sake shall find it”.  I have felt lost.  I have felt hidden.  I have struggled because I can’t seem to “find” myself.  But, today, I am wondering if I even know what this all means.  It has always sounded like a lofty, holy, noble goal to be hidden in Christ and only found in Him.

And I’m sure it is in God’s eyes.

But in my eyes?  It suddenly seems pretty lowly, humbling, lonely.  Even as I profess to desire this self-forsaken position, I fight with all I am against its fruition.  Not that I am near that fruition.  Hardly so.  But in seeing the beginning sacrifices, in feeling the initial lost-ness, I suddenly want to bring it to God and force Him to say there’s been some mistake – that this isn’t my intended portion, that this isn’t His provision for me in this moment.

In reality, I don’t want to lose myself.  As much as I don’t like who I am much of the time, there remains some self-centered core to my being that wants people to see me, and love me, and even judge me.  What happens if, one day, I cease to be seen?  What if, one day, the only thing anyone sees in me is Christ?  Okay, I know that is an impossible hypothetical…but is it supposed to scare me?  It’s not, right?  I’m supposed to yearn for that possibility.  Clearly, Christ is so infinitely better than me…why wouldn’t I want to be seen only as in Him?

I want to be loved for me, not for Christ in me.  The problem with that (aside from my obvious unloveability)?  God is not glorified when people see and love me.  If someone professes to see good in me, then I am somehow not portraying that none of that good is me, that it is all Christ.  I need to be hidden.  And I need to care only about how God sees me.  I need to find my life in Him alone.  His approval, His love, His acceptance – not anyone else’s – need to matter to me.  I realize there are times when this will need to be walked out in relationship with others – but I also have to be okay when it must be walked out in loneliness and obscurity.  When He wants me to be satisfied with Him, I can’t be seeking after other desires.  He needs to be my life, and my life needs to be His.