Sacred Mundane: The Blog

I have had experiences where it felt like sadness would swallow me whole. I know you probably have too, I know I’m not unique in this. Experiences of sadness and grief that felt insurmountable. Some of these were during miscarriages, some during my own personal failures, some during the death of each of my parents.

But I’ve never experienced anger that I thought might swallow me whole. That’s a praise, I recognize it’s amazing to live 44 years and never have had to face that kind of anger. But recently, God chose in His sovereignty to allow me to experience this feeling. It wasn’t pretty. 🙂

Coming out on the other side, God has been so gracious, so I wanted to share a few of things He showed me and the process he took me through, in case you ever feel like this too.

1. Forgive: First, in an almost-audible voice God forcefully said, You HAVE to forgive. That is, burn the IOU. Release the debt. Through a process with God, I did that. And this isn’t a one-time thing (Matt 18:21-22). Usually it’s over and over and over. For me, it helps to actually write out what wrong has been done, like an IOU, and then burn it, symbolizing that I am releasing that debt.

2. Grieve: Just because something is forgiven doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, and it certainly doesn’t mean that the loss isn’t still real and painful. Along with the person who was wronged, we went through a process of grieving what had been lost. We chose to do this as a small ceremony together (like a funeral) and it greatly helped our hearts.

3. Identify God’s legit goodness: I say legit just because this isn’t a fakey fakey religious thing where we pretend that terrible things are actually good. For us, this meant honestly identifying some extremely difficult and painful things and also seeing that God was actively working for the good and even in this situation. It was so helpful to talk through how truly gracious God had been and thank Him specifically for His blessings.

4. Pray blessing over the person who hurt you. Only after we truly recognize God’s goodness toward us can be honestly pray blessing over someone who hurt us. Scripture clearly commands us to do this.

5. Release hate. Though all these steps were good, one Sunday I sat in my chair in church, waiting to take communion because I realized there still was something deeply off in my heart. The message was on Kindness. I had released anger, I had forgiven, I had gone through this process, I had even prayed for this person, but that morning I had read Luke 6:35. “But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.”

Kindness. God is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. I realized that while I had forgiven, grieved, and prayed for this person, I still felt absolutely incapable of being kind to this person. Kindness is active. It’s outward. Bowing my head I told God I could not be kind to this person, there was something still in my heart that was blocking this fruit of the spirit. I asked Him, what is it?

I heard it clearly: Hate.

Yikes. No bueno. I knew that was it, and also that if I let it stay, it would kill me, body and spirit. Like letting a deadly cancer stay, it would spread. It would destroy me. We’ve all seen people who clearly have let hate make its home in their hearts. We don’t want that.

But strangely enough, I had to admit I did kind of want it. I remembered the scene from Count of Monte Cristo where Mercedes begs Edmond to let go of his dark plans of revenge. He responds, “If ever you loved me, don’t rob me of my hate. It’s all I have.”

What is it about hate that feels like something valuable to hold onto? I had never before understood that dark desire to keep it, but now I did.

Thankfully, I also knew the enemy wants nothing more than to get us to hold onto our hate, thinking we need it somehow, that it’s the fuel we need for life.

Like with Luke Skywalker, the dark Emporer Palpatine eggs us on, encouraging us to use our hate to help others. He basically says, “Let hate be your fuel.”

But Luke refuses. He refuses to let hate turn him to the dark side. He recognizes that hate will destroy his true mission.

As it will ours. Our true mission is to destroy the works of the evil one (1 John 3:8). And he wants to sow discord. He wants to take mere mistakes, mishaps, and foolish choices and make them irredeemable. He wants to keep us trapped in hate, anger, malice, and unforgiveness because that is what separates us from God.

Scripture could not be more clear: “If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen” (1 John 4:20).

I also knew that although I did now truly WANT to be free from it, I couldn’t will it away. I couldn’t remove it myself. It was impossible on my own. Only God could take it. With tears and snot running down my face I asked him to please take it away.

And He did. 🙂

The truth is, people make mistakes, they’re often careless. I make mistakes. I’m often careless. It is inevitable that we’re hurt, angered, betrayed. CS Lewis beautifully reminded us that, “To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken.” So our options are refuse to love (and lock away our hearts in dark coffins) OR learn to process the pain that love inevitably brings.

I opt for the latter. If you do too then we must become adept at this process and learn to let God lead us through it, if we’re going to make it through this life loving others without letting hate destroy our souls.

God has been so kind to us. The truth is, we hurt and betray him in word, thought, and action often. Jesus died for people who betrayed him.

Kindness, forgiveness, and grace are the waters of the gospel and we want them washed over us we must wash them over others as well. Amen? Thanks for reading.

“Throwing a party?” The cashier asked. I blinked hard. “Oh, my daughter’s turning … 16.” My voice cracked on the last word and I looked down into my purse, pretending to look for something.

She filled the bag full, the glittery Happy birthday sign, the balloons and streamers and crepe paper balls, the golden 16 cake-topper. The perfectly-worded birthday card.

But as I’d walked the aisles and filled my arms with celebratory items the aching reality kept running through my mind, “I can’t buy what I want most for her.”

I sat in the car and couldn’t stop crying.

Earlier that week I had asked her who she wanted to have lunch with on her birthday and she said Oma.

My heart busted straight open.

Life has its ups and downs and that week had been a down. I guess disappointment is the word we use to describe when life’s circumstances aren’t what we had hoped they’d be.

Sixteen wasn’t looking the way she thought it would.

And why was this hitting me so particularly hard? Harder than her. Because those of us who’ve lived a few decades more have so many more memories associated with those feelings of disappointment. Though not cynical or jaded, there is still a deep recognition that that pain of disappointment will happen more times than you can possibly know, dear girl. And though I hated to say it, I had texted my friend:

I’m really struggling with feeling like her “welcome to womanhood” is a huge dose of pain and can I just be honest and say that feels sadly symbolic?

She feels a sting, but I feel gutted.

We love and get hurt. We love and they die. We birth humans and our bodies literally give themselves over, up, deplete in ways in order to give life.

We decrease that they may increase.

It’s so good and so gospel but sometimes hurts so much.

And I see this depth in my daughter that is beautiful and captivating and everything I ever hoped she’d be. But with depth comes pain too. Sometimes I feel like she’s had more than her share of sorrow.

And then my mind trails to a dear friend, with a dear daughter, who certainly has had more than her share of sorrow. We had just sat over her dining room table and ached together. I know for a fact there are things she wishes she could buy for her daughter who has physically suffered more than most of us could ever dream of.

We can’t buy new hearts, literally or figuratively.

But I hear His voice, that whisper, and He says, “Behold, I make all things new.”

And with shaking hands, I sit at Starbucks and turn the well-worn pages of my Bible to that chapter. The same one we read at Oma’s burial.

No death, no mourning, no crying, no pain.

I glance up just as a boy walks in, his face badly disfigured. Badly. My breath catches.

I bet sometimes he aches for new things too.

New things you can’t buy.

And I find myself grateful for God’s little gift of perspective. Am I the only one who aches for all things new? I think not. None of us can buy what we want most of all.

Perfect peace. The deepest soul rest that says, God’s got it. Renewed hearts, minds, bodies, souls.

Can I be grateful for the glimpses of grace and glory we get this side of heaven without demanding the fullness before the time?

Will I wait for the truly Happy Ending? With patience. With endurance. With joy.

I’ll try. {Thanks for reading.}

This picture captures it — joy. It was a hot July day, we took the boys down river to the rope swing. It’s deep there, you can’t see the bottom, so we cinched up the boys’ life-jackets and went for it.

At first Ben clung to us, but Heidi let him in on the secret: “Ben, you have a life-jacket on, even if you stop paddling, you can’t sink.”

He considered. He tried it. His face LIT up as he shouted with joy, “I can’t sink!”

—

Joy. Right now Jeff is preaching a series called Branches: Full of Christ’s Life. He’s going through the fruit of the Spirit, and today was on joy.

What is joy? I’ve often heard it touted, “It’s not the same as happiness! You can be joyful without being happy.” Ok, but I also take issue with the idea that somehow joy is so far “down in my heart” that virtually no one can detect it! Can you be joyful without any trace of happiness?

I appreciate Dallas Willard’s definition, that joy is a “pervading sense of well-being in your soul,” but I also would argue, couldn’t that be the definition of peace? Is joy really no different than peace?

I’d argue joy is in fact its own thing. Peace can be completely inward, but joy has a sense of outwardness to it.

And further, we are commanded to REJOICE. We aren’t told to “peace” we are told to rejoice.

It’s outward. It should be observable in some sense, at least detectable. Yes?

Tim Keller described joy as “a spiritual buoyancy that comes when we are rejoicing in God.” He goes on, “This Joy, this buoyancy, does not mean we are impervious to suffering, it means we are unsinkable. We are constantly getting wet, we are constantly being pushed down. However, we do not stay down. We don’t sink.”

We don’t sink.

Yes. THAT is how I experience joy. It isn’t that I’m constantly above the waters, it isn’t one long spiritual high, but it is buoyancy. We do walk through the valley of the shadow of death. We suffer. We get disappointed. We have days we’re just tired, we’re irritable, we’re frustrated by the ways our world isn’t working as it should.

But we’re buoyant.

As I sat there in church this morning I reflected on what it is the buoys me during dark seasons. I thought of the days walking with my parents into death, I thought of the days of miscarriages, lost friendships, church difficulties, marriage difficulties, parenting difficulties. I thought through, specifically, what is it that has buoyed me most?

Of course first of all is gratitude, a habit of gratitude is what most contributes to joy. But in terms of TRUTHS. These are the truths. These are the life-jackets that consistently bring me back a buoyed joy, time and time again. These aren’t hypothetical, not something I read in a book somewhere. They are truly what buoys me:

1. Everything is being used for my good. No exceptions. This is life-changing. Romans 8:28 tells God is working all things for my good. 1 Cor. 4:17 says my affliction is working for me, preparing a glory for me. James 1:2-3 says I can rejoice in trials because they are producing in me good things. I can see suffering as hand-weights making me stronger and better.
2. God sees all. When the biblical writers talk about suffering injustice, they always bring it back to knowing God is our master and HE doles out eternal reward. No matter what I can rest in the fact that God sees all, He is who I serve.
3. Everything doesn’t depend on me. While yes, I am responsible for my actions and I want to honor God in my actions, this whole thing doesn’t depend on me. God is so gracious, He will accomplish His work through imperfect people who fumble on the regular. Example: Whole Bible.

Friends, I truly believe that joy is the secret to the victorious Christian life. For the JOY set before Him Jesus endured, conquering sin and death to give us new life! We have LIFE. He has conquered sin and the grave. We have the power of the Spirit. We have HOPE. We of all people have reason to be the most joyful.

We can’t sink. {Thanks for reading.}

I paused, considering, then answered:

“Sure, I think going fishing sounds great and I’d love to go with you. We can do that after dinner, once we get our stuff put away.”

The child let out a little sigh,

“No, that’s ok. I don’t want to go fishing later. I only want to go right now.”

I smiled. I know that attitude. It’s the same I often sport, the same one a different child had donned just moments ago when she sighed about the dinner menu. She had hoped for bean burritos, not chicken legs.

Downcast face. *sigh*

I smiled, and told them I had a secret to share with them. A secret that would serve them well all their days if they’d remember it. They leaned in a little, a bit skeptical, but willing to listen.

I held my hands up in front of me, palms closed together like a prayer posture, then separated them about 4 inches apart.

“See this sliver here, between my hands. This narrow space between my palms represents all the things that are exactly as we want them to be. This is getting to fish at precisely the moment we have the urge, this is the meal we most want, this is the game I want to play, the plans I want to keep, the way I want it to go. This represents the circumstances I must have in order to be happy.

When I have high preferences, picky tastes, particular wants, I narrow down this slice of life with which I can be happy. My joy becomes very narrow. Every time I narrow in on what I want, I exclude more and more of life that I’ll be eligible to enjoy. Pretty soon, there isn’t much left. That’s narrow joy.

They were listening. Then I slowly widened my hands, out, out, out, until my arms were stretched wide, as far as I could reach, palms no longer facing inward, but stretched out, like a giant embrace of life. I smiled into their faces.

THIS is what happens when we let go of our high preferences, our picky tastes, our particular wants. This is what happens when we say, “Well, this isn’t my favorite food, but I’m so glad I get to eat. It’ll do just fine.” When we say, “Well, I’d love to this activity now, but I’m grateful I’ll get to do it at all.” When we say, “That’s not the way I’d like it done, but I’m grateful we get to do it together, and it’s better than being alone.”

This is what happens when we decide that no matter what way it happens, we’ll be grateful. We’ll make do. This makes all of life eligible as a source of joy. This means circumstances can vary widely without depleting our joy. This is WIDE JOY.

They understood. And so did I. And we munched our meal with gladness, and fished ’til past bedtime, and we will continue to pursue wide joy with all our hearts.

{Thanks for reading. Originally shared 7/15/2017, now these Littles are Bigs and I’m teaching these lessons to a new set of Littles 😉 }

“I know how to live on almost nothing or with everything. I have learned the secret of living in every situation, whether it is with a full stomach or empty, with plenty or little.”

Philippians 4:12