Blog Site Moved

Freedom Walk 2012 has moved to a new blog site. The blog name remains the same; only the site on which it is being published has changed. Thanks for reading!

new site: www.freedomwalk2012.wordpress.com

Blog Site Moved

Freedom Walk 2012 has moved to a new blog site. The blog name remains the same; only the site on which it is being published has changed. Thanks for reading!

new site: www.freedomwalk2012.wordpress.com

Second Month, Thirty-sixth Step

I have moved the blog posts for Freedom Walk 2012 to a new blog site. The blog name is the same, only the publishing site has changed.

Please follow this link to the new site: www.freedomwalk2012.wordpress.com

Second Month, Thirty-fifth Step

I am furious and roiling with indignation—not at a particular person, but with a strategy the devil uses—man’s unsanctified heart—to destroy seeds of faith and cause people to sever their relationship with God. My heart breaks for those who have turned away from God because of man's misrepresentation of His person, character, and desires. Whether done intentionally or out of ignorance, the damage occurs--sometimes irreparably. For a number of years, I was rife for the picking off to become a casualty of such misrepresentation; sadly, my experience occurred within the church. Even as believers, the possibility exists for us to be more a witness against the true meaning of the gospel than for it: to love conditionally, rather than unconditionally; to elevate rules and rights above relationship; to favor wearing the judge’s robe we feel we’ve earned over the Lord’s robe of righteousness given to us by grace.

The apostle Paul has strong words for those who distort the gospel and pervert truth. “But even if we, or an angel from heaven, preach any other gospel to you than what we have preached to you, let him be accursed.” (Gal. 1:8) Paul immediately repeats this a second time. Later in the book, Paul laments, “I could wish that those who trouble you (put men back under the law, reject grace) would even cut themselves off.” (Gal. 5:12)  In Paul’s letter to Timothy, he asserts, “Charge some that they teach no other doctrine…rather than that which is for godly edification in faith…for some desire to be teachers of the law, understanding neither what they say nor the things which they affirm.” (1 Tim. 1: 3-7) These are but a few of Paul’s exhortations to stand fast in the liberty—truth—by which Christ has made us free, and not be entangled again with the yoke of bondage (Gal. 5:1). “Therefore if you died with Christ, from the basic principles of the world, why, as though living in the world, do you subject yourselves to regulations…”(Col. 2:20)  “For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, not of works, lest anyone should boast.” (Eph. 2:8)

A conversation I had this morning compelled me to redirect the focus for today’s blog. I have such a strong passion for the love and person of God to be revealed in truth to those who are struggling to find meaning and hope in life. It’s a mad world in which we live—mad crazy and mad angry. There is a frantic, if not desperate, search going on all over the world for peace and contentment. Some focus on the riches to be mined from the secular world, others on the treasures that lie within the religious world. However, life is not found in wealth of any kind, regardless of its source, but in relationship. Sharing life and living loved--in relationship with the Lord and each other—forms the circle which circumscribes fullness of life, including acceptance and belonging man inherently desires. Relationship is a circle of love, not a hierarchy of command: a circle in which to discover our worth, not an arena in which to prove it; a field in which to grow and flourish, not a field strewn with mines, threatening incapacitation or destruction. Life is not about getting it right or doing it right, but about being in right relationship with our Creator and Heavenly Father, content in His presence, with peace of mind and heart as we entrust ourselves, and all that concerns us, to Him.

Thank God for His grace from beginning to end. Thank God for His sword of truth that lays open the lie and slays the enemy. Thank God for His gift of faith that keeps us safe and persevering until the end. Thank God above all for His redeeming love that covers all our sin and restores us to perfect, unbroken fellowship with Him, as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. Amen.

Second Month, Thirty-fourth Step

Today is one of those days when my thought process seems stalled in neutral as to traveling in one direction or another. At the moment, I have a handful of loose threads and a head full of indecision, as I sit here with fingers (of my thread-free hand) poised above the keyboard, waiting for the urge to move forward on a chosen topic. In life, as is the case with writing, sometimes the adventure is not having an adventure. How do I do—or write about—the ordinary or mundane, gracefully?

Of one thing I am certain: “gracefully” is not an adverb I would attach to the way in which I “do” anything. I m referring to the “effortless beauty of movement” part of the definition: beauty--once in a while; effortless—never. In spiritual terms, if “grace” or “gracefulness” is an excellence of power granted by God, I also miss the mark by a wide margin. It is not that God is short of excellence, or the power and authority to grant it; it is the fact that I have a very poor reception record. I am usually so busy tending to my own agenda, schedule, and plans that I am not of the mind to look or wait to receive outside resourcing.

“If it sounds too good to be true, it usually is.” Unfortunately, we apply this maxim to the whole of life with one broad brushstroke. As concerns man, this is generally sage counsel; as concerns God, it is blatantly untrue, detrimental to our relationship with Him, and a stumbling block in our walk of faith. Grace is a too-good-to-be-true gift, from a too-good-to-be-true God—which isn’t; both God and His gift are far better than they sound or we can imagine. To believe this as fact is a real act of faith.

“You get what you work for—so work hard” is one twist on the Protestant work ethic. I rather enjoy hard work and I work hard. However, as concerns grace, I’m not sure that either hard work or working hard is the issue, but rather one’s heart motivation and focus.

Work is tangible, performance is measurable, results are assessable, and control appears viable. When God is kept out of the equation, man works and takes the credit. When God is recognized as part of the equation, man works and gives God credit, with or without a genuine understanding of the role and operation of grace. It is hard for me to trust God with the whole enchilada, so to speak, when it comes to the work and tasks of everyday living. My dependence on God vacillates wildly. When I am totally overwhelmed and ready to throw in the towel, I see trusting God as my sole option. When I am only partially challenged or stymied, I see trusting God alone as the spiritually correct option; however, in the practical outworking of affairs, I do as I am able, consigning God to the role of safety net and back-up.

For me, living with gracefulness is not easy. The effortlessness of grace depends on my surrendering my effort to God—and I have a strong attachment to “my effort.” Working gracefully is tantamount to trusting God with the responsibility for working—and interference is my specialty. Graceful living is living at rest, in peace, by faith in the finished work of Christ and the working of the Holy Spirit in our lives, to accomplish His purposes, for His name’s sake and glory—impossible for me, but possible with God. What can I do? Only believe…

“This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He sent.” John 6:29

Second Month, Thirty-third Step

Today is a special day as is every February 2^nd. Twenty one years ago, as Punxsutawney Phil was looking for his shadow, in the same quarter hour of the morning, at 7:22, my first son was born. In that year, I doubt my interest in the famous groundhog’s prediction was foremost in mind. If anything, my concerns probably lay more in preparing for adding Child #5 to my brood than with the possibility of having to deal with six more weeks of winter. A slight extension in one winter season was hardly worth a passing thought compared to the decades of child-rearing stretching far into my future,

With my children grown, having time to think about shadows is a luxury I can now afford. Instead of waking up in the morning only to have my feet hit the floor running, I can take my time, building momentum at a leisurely pace. Who would have thought that lounging in bed, staring across the room at a vase of peacock feathers, could be so pleasurable? I kid you not! I love the brilliancy of color in peacock feathers; an arrangement of several in a vase on my desk is but a taste of the beauty I enjoy when an array of feathers is displayed by a peacock itself.

The other morning, in the dimness of the dawn light, my eyes were drawn past the peacock feathers to the large shadows cast on the wall behind them. The contrast between the feathers and their shadows was thought-provoking. The two were similar in shape, but in size and color they were as dissimilar as night and day. One was vibrant and full of detail, the other was monochrome and vague. I had before me a perfect spiritual reflection of the contrast between truth and lie.

The enemy is a master of illusion. He cannot genuinely replicate the truth, but he can produce a convincing counterfeit. Truth has substance and qualities that the lie only appears to possess. Illusion is key to the power of deception. One of Satan’s primary strategies is to present the lie as larger and more substantive than the truth. If he can get us to believe something is real, it might as well be--for the effect it has on us: intimidation, fear, discouragement, retreat, despair and host of other life-sapping, life-robbing results.

Truth is real, endures, and remains unchanged; the lie exists, but is not true and has only the staying power people give to it. Trouble can look larger, appear stronger, and exert great pressure on us, but it is not bigger or mightier than God, or us in Christ. Finding and keeping a hold on truth is not easy in the face of opposition forces, but truth does not move, hide, or fade. Light dispels darkness; truth exposes the lie for what it is—a mere shadow with no true ability to overcome or defeat us. Belief in the truth deflates and dissipates the lie and its effect; belief in the lie inflates its efficacy, but has no power to affect truth's ability to conquer.

Perception and choice critically affect our quality of life every day. God has made life vibrant, with evidence of His goodness all around us. God tells us we can expect trouble, but we can face it with an expectancy of guaranteed victory--already procured. The only variable is our acceptance of it. We can choose to live in the light of victory or in the shadow of defeat; to focus on the peacock feather or its shadow. If I can take one in hand, I think I prefer the feel of the former over the latter!

1 John 4:4 “This is the victory that has overcome the world—your faith.”

Second Month, Thirty-second Step

The new year is underway, and with it, thoughts of another cycle of seasons--some elements of which will be familiar, some challenging, some different. If the speed with which January has come and gone is any indication of what to expect in the coming months, I’d better put on my running shoes and start hoping I can keep up. More of the winter season is behind us than ahead, which is good news—despite the groundhog’s prediction come tomorrow. In day-count, February gets short shrift, the occasional leap year not withstanding.  Two family birthdays and two holidays tend to make a short month even shorter, which is fine with me.     

God created man to fellowship with Him. To live, enjoying relationship with God, was the purposed beginning, middle, and end of man’s being. Our one response-ability was to participate in the God-man exchange of love. In the beginning was God and God created man with an ability to respond to Him and His creation with expectation--an expectancy--full of life and possibility. Life was as good and glorious as God intended. Then sin entered and everything changed. What was once alive and vibrant—man, along with his ability to respond and his expectation of life—died. Law-- rules of responsibility and expectations-- became the laws of life.

Who delivers us from this rule and reign of death? Deliverance only comes one way: God, in His mercy and grace, through Jesus Christ our Lord, restores us to eternal fellowship with the Trinity. God does not give us a list of responsibilities—tasks to perform—to earn our way back into His good graces. He does not enumerate a set of expectations to control our behavior or elicit our compliance to His commands. What does He require of us? He simply desires us to take Him at His word—that there is nothing we must do, because there is nothing we can do, except believe and receive His love. Everyday He sets before us the choice of life and death; life by faith and dependence on Him, or death by unbelief and independence from Him. We can walk in freedom—God Himself, in Christ, our ability to respond to life, or walk yoked to performance, dependent on our own ability to respond and meet expectations.

Another epiphany from The Shack: “Those who are afraid of freedom are those who cannot trust God to live in them. To the degree we resort to expectations and responsibilities…to that degree, we neither know God nor trust Him.” I think there is more work to be done in me in this area—just a little!

He who has begun a good work in you will complete it until the day of Jesus Christ. Philippians 1:6

New Year, Thirty-first Step

Responsibility and I go way back, probably to the day of my birth. I am an oldest child, and like so many other first-born, I am a carrier of the responsibility factor.Great expectations begin long before the birth of a first child. The measure of expectancy cultivated throughout a pregnancy spikes as delivery becomes imminent.  Upon birth, all sorts of adjustments become evident or necessary—sleep patterns, eating habits, time schedules, types of activity, and sanity level. Drivers also change: expectancy takes a back seat and expectations take the wheel.

Expectation grabs us right out of the womb and our training begins A few things occur as expected, but surprises rule the day. Children are a treasure chest full of the unexpected; I have one book written, and volumes in the hopper, to confirm my personal experience.  As crass as it sounds, I’m afraid it is more true than not, that we are all schooled, from a very young age, in turning expectation into an art form. It becomes a way of life. Every day, we make demands on others and others demand from us. Some of us lean toward taking on responsibility, others on avoiding it. Nonetheless, the song and dance of life is performed by the dynamic duo of responsibility and expectation. I love the way Paul Young describes the starring role they play in daily life: “Responsibilities and expectations are the basis of guilt and shame and judgment and they provide the essential framework that promotes performance as the basis for identity and value.”

I am a performance-oriented person. Much of my life has revolved around the “get it right, do it right”standard of living that I have set for myself. On some days, my report card reads like that of a stellar student, on others, I am standing at the failure threshold, ready to drop out. When I’m up and running, getting things done in good order, I feel great. When I hit a wall—or one falls on me—I feel a little less inclined to post my picture on life’s success page. To ensure that my stress levels stay on the high side, I not only accept  feeling responsible for my own stuff and state of well-being, but also for half the world’s. Actual responsibility or false responsibility--I’ll take either on without a second thought. It is small wonder that I am officially worn out, and frankly, I’m not sure what I have to show for my effort. I have filled up my time impressively, keeping busy with all sorts of tasks and duties—even throwing in a few fun activities, here and there. Despite regularly adjusting and reshuffling my priority list, I often wonder if I am making progress toward doing the right things for the right reasons.

I suppose the first question to ask myself is “What are the “right” things?” and then the second, “What are the right reasons?” What are my responsibilities in living life as a Christian, day in and day out? How do I find the right balance between doing and being, between performance and identity and value? Can I reframe my expectations or must I usher them out the door as a failed experiment in living?

Questions, questions, questions…what are the answers? How and where do I find them, and then, what do I do with them? These days I find myself more drawn to simplifying life than driven to complicating it. Instead of running at 100 miles an hour through each day, I’ve decreased my speed to a crawling 75 mph. As I have slowed down, the scenery and objects in it have become less of a blur; I am seeing some things more clearly, and noticing others for the first time. I am on a very interesting part of the home-bound journey, and more and more frequently, I can honestly say, thanks to God, “It’s all good.”

“In everything give thanks; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.”

1 Thess. 5:18.

New Year, Thirtieth Step

Expectation sic expectancy is one strand of a threefold cord—bound together with responsibility and dependency--that can function as a lifeline or a tripwire in our daily lives. There is so much tied up in this bundle, it is hard to decide where to start unraveling it. It is a knotty task, but one I am determined to untangle…hopefully, without any further ridiculous play on words. I apologize.

In all seriousness, I have been deliberating for the last few hours about the direction in which I want to wander thought-wise today. I keep vacillating between the subject of responsibility—a kissing cousin of expectation—and that of dependency—a privilege of our royal heritage as God's children that we can honor or squander.

If I am honest with myself, I have to admit that the words I speak and the actions I take are not always in sync. This does not necessarily mean I am insincere in my intention, but it does reflect a gap between the two. Such is the case in my basic struggle with where and in whom I put my trust. My heart is to trust God in all things; however, the gravitational pull in daily life often feels strongest in the “do-it-yourself” direction. The “Christian” twist on this is subtle, if not insidious, by giving God a bit-piece in the action: do-it-yourself –with God’s help; trust God, but break the problem into manageable pieces so solving it is doable—by us. Strengthen faith to be in a better position to handle the challenge next time around the mountain; persevere unto victory—practice makes perfect.

Unarguably, it honors God when we look to Him for help— for wisdom, strength, and faith to persevere. He desires to meet all our needs; He invites us to come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (Heb. 4:16) The problem is not so much what we believe about God, but in our believing in Him, what we expect our experience of life to be. Are we seeking to overcome our struggles or seeking for God to overcome us, so whether or not the struggles abate, we prevail because God’s presence prevails? Are we looking to grow in faith so we can stare our troubles into oblivion, or so we become oblivious, through faith, to trouble’s power to trouble us?

Am I willing to depend on God by ceasing to seek solace in the hope for a lessening of adversity or for the increasing of my ability to handle it? Am I willing to lay down the shovel with which I have been building my own walls of protection and stock piling provisions for a rainy day, developing muscle to hedge my bets for success in withstanding future attacks?  Am I willing to sell all I possess for the promise of God’s sufficiency becoming all I have: come what may—God to be my guide and stay? 

Expectancy toward God requires a trusting dependence, without which, our expectancy is merely a façade for expectation; if God meets us by showing Himself strong on our behalf differently than we expect or desire, we find ourselves back at square one collecting yet another brick of disappointment. A quick-set mortar of resentment, confusion and discouragement stands at the ready to reinforce our doubts that having relationship with God makes much of a difference in situations or in our ability to cope with them as we face life’s trials.

True dependence on God is putting all our eggs into one basket; the basket is trust and the hands that hold it are God’s. Only God offers a hope that never disappoints—a living hope that lives within a relationship of unrelenting, unfailing love: a love that covers sin, overcomes the world, and conquers fear and death—once and for all. In Christ, the victory is won. Might we have to live with a few thorns in the flesh? Might we temporarily feel the emotional brunt of defeat? Might we have to be content, moment by moment, with the sufficiency He and His grace provide? Might we have to rejoice always and be anxious for nothing because God is faithful? If answering “Yes” to the above questions is as hard as it gets, I think I can live with that.    

New Year, Twenty-ninth Step

I believe I would be seriously overwhelmed if I began to examine the degree to which expectations have infiltrated every area of my life. Expectations of myself, expectations from others, expectations for others, expectations of society, my expectations of life--I am drowning in expectations! Do I have power over them or do they have power over me? How do expectations affect my perspective of life and my relationship with God?

As I have begun digging a little deeper into the identification and working of expectation in our lives, I am becoming increasingly aware of the toll it takes on our personal lives, relationships, and our walk of faith. Living life within the framework of expectation is akin to building one’s house on the sand, with the same abysmally low stability factor and high likelihood of disaster. Conversely, building one’s house on the rock approximates rooting one’s life in God-ward expectancy — a sure hope and unwavering confidence in the promises and faithfulness of the One who created us and knows all things. What is God’s expectancy toward His children? God passionately desires that we learn to live loved within the context of relationship—with Him, and through Him, with others. Our life’s purpose is that simple and that hard! Sometimes, when I seem to have little awareness of God’s presence and no feeling of being loved, I want to ask God if there isn’t an easier way to experience the satisfaction and joy of living--like some tasks to perform or a list of self-improvements to work on. Frequently, I am more focused on learning to thrive in a world of expectations than on seeking to strive for a genuine dependence on God, asking Him to replace an expectation-full life with one full of grace and truth.

Truth helps us re-establish perspective. Truth helps us exchange the heavy weight of expectations for the light weight of expectancy. Expectancy enlivens us; it is a much happier, healthier way to live. Expectations drive us to live under the law; expectancy draws us to live in the love of God. Expectations bind us to outcomes, expectancy binds us to hope. Expectations thrive on performance; expectancy thrives on relationship. Expectations foster dependency on man; expectancy fosters dependency on God.

The powerful current of expectation in which we live is swift and easy to be caught up by, hurtling us pell mell downstream; there is no stopping or steering. Yet, God and his tide of love are infinitely stronger and able to deliver us safely upstream, where the currents are much more gentle and peaceful. What does God require of us? God invites us to participate in life through trust—in Him, through faith, with hope and joy by the power of the Holy Spirit, in believing. In God, we can expect the best, because there is no worst for which to prepare--absolutely nothing can separate us from His love. Rm. 15:13, 8:39

New Year, Twenty-eighth Step

Sometimes the unexpected provides an unanticipated flow of warmth and lightness:  a surprise visit by someone you love, or a cancellation of a dreaded commitment, or for us Chicago residents, the thrill of adding another tally mark in the winter “days of sunshine” column. It may be easy to wear our references to the weather, but not its relevancy; year-round, weather affects the atmospheric conditions in which we carry out our daily activities. However, the weather also lends itself to serving as a relatable touch-point to which we can compare our experience of life’s general climate--unpredictable, uncontrollable, variable, and capricious. Often the “expect the best, but prepare for the worst” philosophy is no more effective in coping with the weather than it is with life—expectations lead us to resenting the time and energy we waste on preparing for what does not happen, or being disappointed, given our interpretation of  “the best,” with what does.

Expectation is the door through which law enters life and relationship.  Expectation, at its root, is a demand. Whether it is overtly displayed or subtly dressed, an expectation establishes a desired response or a predicted outcome. We want what we want and we want to be right; being denied on either count creates conflict, internal and/or external. Inherently, expectations carry emotional weight; the problem side of expectation intensifies with the negativity of its accompanying emotional baggage.

What if what I want is right? Good? Beneficial?  One of my very dear friends and counselors patiently worked with me to un-pry my fingers, one by one, from the death grip I held on my “right, good and beneficial –prove to me they aren’t”--expectations. It was not an easy, quick, or painless process.  On the contrary, it was maddening and discomfiting. I could not wrap my head around the idea that expectations were unproductive and non-fruit bearing, and ultimately harmful to me, others, and relationships.

I asked and re-asked myself the same questions, “Could I hold onto expectations without being resentful or disappointed, without getting frustrated or discouraged, when my expectations were not met?” “Had doggedly holding on to my expectations ever changed the likelihood of them being met, or sped up the fulfillment process?” “Was laying out expectations, especially those only unilaterally recognized or accepted, necessarily an incentive for others involved to buy into them?”  Unfortunately, the answer to all of the above was a resounding, “NO!”

While I acquiesced to the fact that expectations put a demand on behavior, others and my own, producing negative results 99.9% of the time—a wall or wedge between relationships, anger, despair, discouragement, judgment—I was afraid to let go of the false-security and illusion of control expectations provided. If I let go of my expectations, then what?  I feared I would get only the dregs of life, the scraps at the bottom of the relationship barrel.  If I let go of my expectations, what standard would take their place?  Who and what would be at life’s helm? I felt like I was walking the plank to destruction of life as I knew it. Thank God!

God had an expectation-replacement ready—when I was ready.  Its appearance was not earth-shattering, but it was chain-breaking and misery-lifting.  An old question was the dawning of a new awakening. “In whom and what was my trust?”  I realized that the issue was not the particular content of my expectations, but my misplacement of trust in them and their erroneous outsourcing for fulfillment: misdirected trust in man.

God offers us an alternative to man-based expectation: God calls it expectancy. Expectation is dead and static; expectancy is alive and dynamic. Expectation breeds resentment and disappointment; expectancy births hope and encouragement. Expectation is a demand of man; expectancy is a command of God. Expectation is based on rule of law; expectancy is based on the rule of love. Expectation shames and blames; expectancy sees and frees. Expectation hinders; expectancy inspires. Expectation glorifies man, expectancy glorifies God.

Expectancy is expectation held loosely, in man’s hands, but shaped, used and fulfilled at will, when in God’s, according to His plans and purposes, for our good and His glory.  In all things—in every relationship and situation--God is our expectation and our hope, and He promises to never disappoint us.  He is faithful and He will do it. My trust and expectancy are in Him alone. 1 Thess. 5:24, Ps. 62: 5,8

New Year, Twenty-seventh Step

“Expectation is predetermined resentment.” An expectation has two basic outcomes: it is fulfilled or it remains unfulfilled; we are satisfied with the result or we are not. A goal has been met, or an effort has fallen short. Where an expectation exists, anything less than complete compliance or completion, leaves room for the seed of resentment to grow. If there is no expectation, there is no soil in which such a seed can be implanted. Resentment is only one side of the emotional coin spun by expectation: the other side is the bedeviling sense of disappointment. It is a toss up as to which side lands face up first.

Before jumping into a whirlwind of discussion involving the pluses and minuses of expectation and its uses, from our human standpoint, a top down view might provide the best perspective with which to start. As far as God is concerned, what significance or role does He give to expectation—specifically within the context of its effect on relationship?  Expectations always affect relationship, directly or indirectly. Once again the weather provides fodder for the illustration mill. If for any reason, the weather ruins my plans for the day, any consequent emotions will have a ripple effect, radiating out into the rest of the day and toward the people around me. Whether I additionally choose to blame God for His lack of intervention, or the weatherman for his lack of accuracy, I only increase the reverberations from my dashed expectations.

I’m going to dare to make a blanket statement: Our Heavenly Father has no expectations. He simply has no need or use for them. Were God to have expectations, it would run counter to His very nature of perfection, His character of love, and His attributes of omniscience and omnipotence—all-knowing and all-powerful. To this, mankind cannot likewise lay claim.  Humans regularly use expectations to control behavior or to get what they desire. That is neither the heart nor the way of God, because control is of the law, not love. God has no expectations because He is more interested in loving us than controlling us. Furthermore, why would God have any expectation other than what He already knows to be true? He knows us and everything about us. Where there is complete knowledge, expectation is superfluous. It gets even better: because God has no expectation--outside that which He already knows--we never disappoint Him. He knows us and accepts us as who He created us to be—His children--fully loved, fully reconciled, through Christ, living under grace and by grace, in every act, every day of our lives.

If God—the greatest Being--has no expectations, it seems rather trifling, if not downright foolish, for us to have them—one imperfect being placing expectations on another imperfect being--an act which God, the only perfect being, does not recognize as being a component or dynamic in a relationship of love. If we are still interested in taking up the cause of expectation, I’m not sure how we get around God’s rejection of expectation as being conducive to nurturing the kind of loving fellowship He desires us to enjoy with Him and with each other. Just sayin’.

Does God endorse a legitimate version of expectation? I believe so. God calls it expectancy, and expectancy has a whole different flavor to it than expectation. It is the flavor of the day for preponderance tomorrow.

“Oh, taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the man who trusts in Him!” Ps. 34:8

New Year, Twenty-sixth Step

One expectation that rarely ends in disappointment is the consistency of sky color during the month of January in Chicago: gray. The only variation is in the spelling of the word, which changes only slightly as does the hue of the winter sky. No matter how you slice it –or spell it--grey is gray. In the color scheme world, gray may be an achromatic or neutral color; however in the emotional world, grey evokes a blasé feeling, moving toward the darker side of a mood swing. Since I have no power to change the weather, I am going to change the subject.

The standard definition of the verb expect is “likely to happen or arrive; to look forward to”; expectation is simply the noun form—a particular result or outcome a person is looking for. However, one of the most insightful definitions I have heard regarding expectation, centers on its practical implication: Expectation is predetermined resentment. This description has given me pause to think each time it comes to mind. In two words, it neatly ties together motivation, action, and reaction in describing the expectation dynamic that occurs in relationships—those living sources of both exceeding joy and great pain, reviving hope and crushing disappointment.

We have all been on both ends of the expectation continuum: the expector and the expectee. We are either the one creating the expectation, or the one from whom the expectation is being elicited. Every day of family life is rife with examples of expectations at work, from those that are trivial to those of great consequence and effect. I expect my children to perform certain duties and have a good attitude toward life and people. I expect my husband to do XYZ (I don’t trust myself not to land in a heap of trouble were I to be more specific), and he likewise expects ABC from me (he would definitely get himself into hot water if I asked him to delineate his expectations). My husband and I could produce reams of documentation on the times expectations have been the breeding ground for interpersonal conflict—and sometimes all out war.

Unfulfilled expectations can be hard to process, deal with, and accept. When one is expecting the house to be reasonably clean when one returns from work and it is not, the first reaction is not usually one of understanding or gratitude. When one’s children blow off a class or assignment in school, to their detriment, one does not normally give them a high five or pat on the back for their decision. Anger, frustration, or disappointment—sometimes all three concurrently—are common feelings or reactions. Resentment is waiting in the wings to make its grand entrance and take over the party of negativity.

Once set, an expectation becomes the standard of satisfaction and anything less demands an explanation or remedy. When the demand draws a subpar performance, the pot remains stirred and the atmospheric conditions take a turn for the worse. Expectations are an integral part of our daily lives; some are so ingrained, we are no longer aware of their presence. Expectations that are identified as troublemakers are handled in a variety of ways: confronted, ignored, adjusted, exchanged, adapted, refused, accepted, thrown out, buried, defied, mocked, flaunted, heralded, trumped, lamented, advocated, praised, hated, or loved. Take your pick; most likely we have tried a number of these on an alternating basis with varying degrees of success or failure.

What are we to do with expectations? Embrace them or trash them? Change how we see them? Change the way in which we deal with them? What value do expectations have? It has been easy to think myself into a tight knot when I ask or attempt to answer these types of questions. I have more often than not, ended up on my knees, muttering in frustration, “Expectations—can’t live with them, can’t live without them.”

Fortunately, God has never shared my quandary or sense of dismay. As long as I’ve been willing to work with Him, He’s been more than happy to work with me. He’s still working with me on sorting out my expectation conundrum, but I’m making progress.

Psalm 139 is a wonderful go-to Psalm when my thinking gets muddled, my perspective gets cloudy, and my emotions have mutinied and taken control of the ship. When I cannot locate myself or see my way clear, God finds me and leads the way unto sunnier skies.

 “O Lord, You have searched me and known me…You understand my thought afar off.”

New Year, Twenty-fifth Step

While reading the book, The Shack, I remember using up several boxes of tissues—or so it seemed. The rhythm of my reading went something like this: cry, grab a tissue, turn a page; cry, grab a tissue, turn a page. Why was I so moved? Most obviously, the storyline itself was a tear-inducer: other reasons fanned out from there. While the book touched me emotionally, it also challenged me mentally and spiritually. It carries a message relayed from the heart of a father to the heart of his children, and the heart of Our Father to His children.

I was privileged to hear the author, William Young, speak at a church in DC a few months ago. In meeting the man, and listening to him share, it was easy to understand why the book has had such a powerful impact, its readership spread across the globe. The book was authored by a man I could only describe as “real people”: unassuming, honest, broken, and on the mend. The book is well-written, but I believe its appeal runs much deeper than that. It is hard for me to imagine someone reading the book, without it eliciting some kind of response—even if that response is one of anger at how the author portrays the persons of the Trinity, or the nature of the God-man relationship. Simply put, between the truths and experiences described, the book hits close to home, touching many aspects of our human life and realtionships.

I actually took notes as I read the book—both times. I did so to preserve the particular touch points that impacted me most strongly—nuggets of truth that I wanted to revisit in the future. For me, the book had many of them--too many to give adequate thought to all at once. One of the things I so love about truth, is that no matter in what form or package it arrives, or when it is delivered, God has a way of making sure it reaches its destination--and in perfect condition. Sometimes we find truth because we search for it, and at others, it arrives unexpectedly or unbidden. Nevertheless, once received, truth is a gift that keeps on giving as long as we retain possession of it. Truth never loses its luster, save temporarily; truth is like a nugget of precious metal that needs to be polished periodically to garner renewed appreciation of its beauty and worth.

One of the subjects addressed in The Shack, on which I have been contemplating lately, concerns “expectations.”  Perhaps it is a subject particularly relevant to the beginning of a new year as we look ahead to what may unfold in the coming 12 months. In any case, I am increasingly aware of the role expectations play in our lives--in our introspections, perspectives, and relationships with other people and with God.

I have had some intense tug-of-wars between my changing views and feelings about expectations. For many years, I saw nothing particularly harmful about expectations; in fact, I thought them to be a normal, if not necessary, part of life. I accepted that there were qualifiers, as there were with most things, which helped differentiate the positive aspects from the more negative ones: some expectations were good, others less so. I would have heartily disagreed that living without expectations, if it were even possible, would be desirable. I suspect that my being a performance-oriented person might have had a slight influence on my perspective. I could have argued persuasively that expectations were fine with proper usage and when understood within the proper context.

With additional waters of life experience having passed under the bridge, I believe I look at expectations a little differently now, albeit my former understandings fell hard. I never realized the heavy weight of the load expectations produced—expectations of me, for me, and from me, either self or other-generated. It took me a lot of time and a considerable amount of processing to separate the truth from the lies, but the light has grown brighter. I have had to go to God repeatedly and ask Him to rescue me once again from the pit expectation into which I had fallen. As I struggled with understanding and a multitude of nagging, unanswered questions, I asked God to make me willing to be willing to see things His way.

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free; as we look into the perfect law of liberty and continue in it, we will walk free from earthly judgments and failure—and the yoke of expectations that is no longer ours to wear, by the grace of God, through Jesus Christ. It is my eager expectation, that if God has spoken it, He will bring it to pass and as He has purposed it, He will also do it. (Gal. 5:1, James 1:25, Is 46:11)

     

New Year, Twenty-fifth Step

Hallelujah! The sun is shining today in the Chicago area providing a much needed brightening of the dreary winter environs. It is small wonder that January is an especially difficult month to navigate emotion-wise for those living in sun-deprived geographical areas. It is days like today that give authentic relevancy to the expression, “Drink in the sunshine.” Dark days—literally and figuratively--can not only affect our emotions negatively, they can mess with our faith. When life is messy, I come unglued; when my faith is messed up, I come unhinged. Worse, faith that is off-center or off-course, tends to make life messy as well—one can quickly find oneself unglued and unhinged at the same time.

When our faith falters, the door to our house falls ajar, allowing all sorts of riff-raff to come in; our vulnerability to the effects of outside weather conditions increases greatly.We instinctively know from experience or our inherent sense of self-preservation that the best fix is to close the door. Unfortunately, there are times it takes more strength than we have or can muster for the task. We want to hide or go to sleep and come out to find the door re-secured, the debris cleared out, and our house put back in order. The hope-filled part--it gets there; the hard-to-swallow part--but not necessarily in the way or time we desire or envision.

Sometimes we are overwhelmed and wait a long time before we decide or are able to take action. We feel the weight of responsibility to fix the problem, the burden of guilt for the condition in which we find ourselves, and the pressure of real or imagined disappointment—ours God-ward or God’s us-ward—all of the above fueled by lies of the enemy. The worst part is the loss of hope accrued that anything will change or help.

I have found myself in this prison of unbelief and lost faith. Outside it is dark, and inside darker still. Yet…never has the pit been too deep or the darkness so thick that God could not reach me. Words of hope, glimmers of light, may seem to bounce off impenetrable walls of discouragement and hard-hearted or hard headed-ness, but let God be true and every man a liar. Each one of us faces dark days, sun-shine not withstanding. While I am bogged down in a morass of ugliness, unable to move, the Holy Spirit is hovering over my life that at the moment appears and feels to be as “without form and void” as the earth was in the beginning. Then God spoke, and life came forth. God’s way, power, and authority remain the same. He speaks and we live. There is one way, one truth, one life--accessed by faith.

We can say “IDK” or “I don’t care” or “whatever” or “it doesn’t matter.” But God knows, He cares, He has the last word on “whatever” and every detail of our lives matters to Him. We can speak the truth, although we might feel the lies. We can choose to believe, though the doubts persist. God Himself is our “break through” the darkness. Our faith may falter, but His never fails and He has promised we are safe in His hands.

“I would have lost heart, unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait on the Lord. Be of good courage and He shall strengthen your heart. Wait, I say, on the Lord.” Ps. 27:13-14

New Year, Twenty-third Step

True to my word, I am jumping around topics willy-nilly, at random, losing the ends of threads I intended to pick up, and probably driving crazy those readers who prefer a neater approach to the issues of life! Sometimes I drive myself to distraction and that is never terribly productive or satisfying. My life has not traveled along a very straight line; some detours have been of my choosing, others have more or less been foisted upon me by factors over which I had little, if any, control. Nevertheless, I have found one constant wherever and however life has happened—God and His faithfulness have been there.

A few times, God has rescued me from trouble by miraculous intervention—a clearly recognizable, definable deliverance; many times, I have found myself safely washed up on a beach after a storm without any idea how I got there. A few times, I have felt the tangible presence of God with me in the midst of a fierce battle; many times, I have felt helplessly alone with no discernable sign of relief or reinforcement on the horizon. A few times, I have felt a surge of strength that reinvigorated me to press on; many times, I have felt every ounce of my weakness, and could merely wait and hope to be propped up, before the threat of being mopped up and wrung out materialized. A few times, I have faced conflict feeling well-armed and equipped; many times, I have felt thrown into the fray naked and unprepared. A few times, I have been able to fix my eyes on the standard of victory; many times, I have been too mired in defeat to see anything but the darkness around me.

“Life is not fun and games” is an understatement! Trouble has no trouble tracking us down.We can run, but we can’t hide from it. As believers, we don’t need to do either. God always provides a way of escape or a place of refuge. In the Old Testament, for chapters at a time, David was on the run from Saul. In the New Testament, Paul was more often a creature in conflict, than a creature of comfort. What was trouble like for them? First, it was real; by their own accounts, trouble was ever-present. Secondly, they were not granted immunity from feeling the effect of trouble. Thirdly, they were not supplied with a “get out of trouble free” card. Where did these facts leave them?  The answer is… in trouble.

Paul records in 2 Cor. 7:5, “For indeed, when we came to Macedonia, our bodies had no rest, but we were troubled on every side, Outside were conflicts, inside were fears.” Can any of us identify with that? Reading through the Psalms, we get a very vivid recounting of David finding himself facing a host of troubles. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…” Ps. 23:4 “In the multitude of anxieties within me…” Ps. 94:7

Trouble was no less trouble to David and Paul than it remains to us in our lives.

The details surrounding trouble may differ, but the fact of its existence does not.

Where is the good news? The good news has not changed in substance or location since the times of David or Paul. We have the same recourse and the same access to help as they did. David and Paul staked their lives on God’s promises, and God’s promises did not fail them. We can believe the trouble or believe God. The trouble is real, but it is not true—it does not have the final word; it is only a temporary reality. The first step out of trouble, is the same as the last step, and every step in between: turn to God; trust Him.

“Do not fear…let not your hands be weak. The Lord your God is in your midst. The Mighty One will save…He will quiet you with His love.” Zephaniah 3:17  Amen!

New Year, Twenty-second Step

As I was lying in bed this morning, trying to avoid guilt-ing myself into getting up, I decided I’d feel better if I used my reclining time constructively; I began to ponder all the directions I could go with today’s blog. Having options was not the problem, but rather choosing one that struck a chord and went beyond a mere mechanical recording of thought. Writing for the sake of writing is a good exercise, but less motivating than writing in hope of connecting with people.The longer I laid there flexing my mental muscle, the more my interest in writing atrophied. I was getting nowhere fast—on any front. I sensed a break in the inaction might prove helpful; I headed to the kitchen for my morning coffee.

As my feet moved in the direction of the floor, my attention was drawn, without explanation, to a popular three letter acronym: IDK…hmmm, what was that all IDK—I don’t know--maybe it was merely a subconscious reaction to the writing-subject indecision in which I was currently embroiled. If nothing else, it was accurate; after my trip to the kitchen for my hot beverage, I truly did not know where my writer persona was headed. I decided that IDK was as good a starting point as any, and I sat down at my computer to begin.

As much as I am not a fan of the dismissive response, “whatever,” my husband finds “IDK” equally distasteful—at least when a question directed to me elicits that particular response. “What do you mean you don’t know what time the kids are coming home?” “Why don’t you know the best way to get there?” “How can you not know how long it is going to take?” In contrast to my husband, I am quite comfortable with IDK; I naturally prefer the “fly by the seat of your pants” navigation system; for me, as long as I’m moving in the general direction desired, IDK is a perfectly acceptable flight plan. Hubby prefers to have a few more details nailed down and then cast in stone—less room for error, he figures. To my husband, unknowns are anxiety-producing; flexibility too often translates into inconvenience, wasted effort, and uncertain outcomes.

My husband is a strict Point A to Point B kind of guy; the road best traveled between two points is that which requires the fewest turns and is easiest to remember. My chosen route varies from trip to trip—sometimes I choose the scenic route, at others the shortest or fastest. He focuses on getting to the destination; I have one eye on the destination, and the other on opportunities for experiences along the way. Over the years we have learned to reconcile our differences in strategy and perspective: different is not right or wrong, it’s just different. Through Christ man is reconciled to God, however, the truth, “God is God, and we are not,” poses some inherent challenges when it comes to making adjustments in our human perspective.

I mulled over how frequently the answer “IDK” escapes from our lips or flows through our texting fingers; we accept it as a normal part of communication, with an implicit “TBD” (to be determined) understanding satisfying us in the interim. We do not parlay this attitude well into our relationship with God. As believers, we do not like living with the IDK factor in our daily baskets as part and parcel of our relationship with Him. We want to know--and are uncomfortable not knowing what want to know—for ourselves. God knows the beginning and the end of all things; He has revealed Himself and His love to us. Should we not feel absolutely secure and rest fully assured in His complete knowledge of the world and every living thing? Yet, our actions belie our reluctance to trust Him with our lives and in daily activities.

By all reckoning, my husband should be overjoyed that one thing he will never hear from God is “IDK,” because there is nothing God does not know; trusting Him is foolproof. Likewise, I should find it easy to trust in a Heavenly Father who establishes me in the way, as He sees fit to direct my steps, from the starting block to the finish line, regardless of the number of detours, challenging roads, and perilous conditions I encounter. Yet our desires and expectations to elicit others’ trust in us, and to invest our trust in others, are often far greater than our willingness to depend on God to be sufficient and give us sufficiency for every need and circumstance in our lives. We serve a very patient, long-suffering, and incredibly merciful God!

“Trust in the Lord, and do good; dwell in the land and feed on His faithfulness. Commit your way to the Lord, trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass. Ps.37:4

New Year, Twenty-first Step

Our attitude depends heavily upon our perspective. Thankfully, both are amenable to adjustment; they are mutually reinforcing. One of the quickest ways for me to dig myself into an emotional hole is to lose perspective. The whole attitude-perspective dynamic is fairly elementary; it is its slipperiness that complicates matters. How quickly perspective can slip out of our grasp and slide out of sight before we have a chance to reposition or regain our grip. As I looked out of my living room window earlier today, nature provided me with a fitting visual. Fresh-fallen snow, in all its pristine beauty, tends to not remain that way for very long: snow plows, snowblowers, and shovels see to that. From the warmth and comfort of my home, I appreciated the view that greeted me this morning. Alternately, my husband was otherwise affected; he left work yesterday after a long day, only to have to dig out his car, prior to a hazardous drive home in the wee hours of the morning. He was anything but appreciative of the same white powder I found so enchanting. Similarly, those who depend on snow plowing for income probably cheer for copious amounts of snow much more than those of us who find snow a major inconvenience and potentially harmful to our well-being. Whether you consider the snow a blessing or a curse, and rejoice or grumble accordingly, perspective can be a key determinant to your attitude toward the crystalline substance.

Snow is a relatively insignificant matter to relate to perspective—but it’s in season, so for my purpose today, I consider it apropos. Admittedly, perspective takes on a more critical nature as the stakes become higher. I can bundle up for protection from the winter weather, or simply stay inside. When in danger or crisis, I have much less control over my options for handling the situation. Often the only change I can make is in my perspective: perspective becomes a prime coping mechanism. 

In the midst of a tragedy or a perilous situation, or while fighting an emotional or physical battle, perspective is usually the last thing on our mind; we are most likely in survival mode. We want deliverance first, before we consider making room for perspective. At the time we most need to have perspective firmly in place, we feel least able to maintain a fix on it. Caught in a no man’s land of fear, confusion, and uncertainty, we agonize over where to turn for help; here ministry to one another can be life-saving.  The single act of coming alongside those who are struggling can be instrumental in steadying them for the next step. When the crisis being faced looms larger than life, impossible for us to see around or through, the gift of another that enables us to regain perspective, is a God-send. It is a glimmer of hope that all is not lost and a source of strength that encourages us not to give up.

Is there a life perspective we can have in place, before all hell breaks loose in our lives, to counteract our tendency to respond with a knee-jerk reaction of panic? As I finished typing out this question, I was tempted to delete it; I think it is an honest question to ask, but a very multifaceted one to answer--one which might be best addressed little by little over time. For starters—and as a closing for today’s post—a day ago, I ran across a very short sentiment in my reading that oddly brought a smile to my face, despite the painful memories evoked on yesterday’s date. Charles Wesley offered, “The den of lions is as safe a place as any.” I thought it a very peculiar, yet powerful perspective. What truth did it contain that resonated so strongly within me? Two realities immediately struck me: For one, as was true in Daniel's case, our lion’s den experiences are not voluntary or sought after, but we inevitably encounter them in one form or another during our lives. Secondly, the necessity of absolute dependence on God is impossible to negate; it isn’t the presence of the lion’s that determines the outcome, but the presence of God.

The power of presence: God’s presence in the middle of trouble, from which we cannot  escape or extricate ourselves, and the presence of people, through whom flows the ministry of love and tender care our Father knows we need—delivers perfect help in our time of need. This is Father God’s promise--lion’s den or no lion’s den—and our believer’s confidence: God is with us, Christ is in us, that we may give thanks in all things, according to His will and to the praise of His almighty, all-sufficient name.

New Year, Twentieth Step

I struggled a bit with how to begin today’s blog. Last night I dug out some old files of writing. I was curious to read several past perspectives I remember having written regarding the events that unfolded on this date twelve years ago. There was not much—a few paragraphs I had started and not finished, relegating the completion of the story to the future—a time that has yet to come.

On one tattered yellow legal pad sheet I had written: “It was another cold January day, the ground blanketed with snow, a Chicago winter day like so many in the past, foreshadowing those to come in years hence…yet this particular day would be anything but ordinary…a life would be lost.”  Apparently, that is as far as I got in the story. I had skipped a few lines on my paper and continued by trying to catch a few of my thoughts amidst the tears that had begun sliding down my cheeks. “I struggled to conceal the tears collecting in the corners of my eyes as I sat in school. I was substitute teaching and presently overseeing a study hall of six students—certainly no cause to cry. Sometimes I could muse objectively about the hidden pain few knew about. To many around me, I was just another adult walking through life. I often wondered about the hidden pain, of which I was unaware, in the lives of people I passed every day.” Again, the thoughts ended, to be briefly picked up again on a third sheet of paper.

“The unthinkable had happened. A normal Thursday turned into a front page news story for a day, then archived with countless others: a few hundred words and a minute’s worth of reading slipped into oblivion for those not directly involved in or affected by the accident.” It was only the beginning of the account written and rewritten in my head through the years about that day; On January 20^th, 2000, my 21 month old son died after being hit by the van I was backing out of the driveway. There are years in which this date has slipped by without remembrance—whether it is grief avoidance on my part or God’s grace on my behalf, I have not tried to figure out. What I can identify as a definite impartation of God’s grace is the fact that the overriding memory I have about the most heart-breaking experience in my life is feeling the love, comfort, and peace of God as never before, and to a greater degree than I have ever since. I can’t explain how God enfolded my pain in such a tangible way as to make His goodness more real than the horror of the loss, but He did. Fear lost its hold on me as the worst I could imagine had happened and I found God present, his sufficiency real in every aspect and moment of the crisis. I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that nothing could separate me from His love, and with His love, I could go through anything.

Words of empathy, comfort, and compassion can seem hopelessly inadequate in the face of overwhelming grief; yet, the love that they express can be heart soothing, mending, and strengthening far beyond their immediate impact. Words from complete strangers, as well as from family and friends, supernaturally carried me through the rough days and weeks that followed the tragedy. But there was something even more powerful than words, and that was presence—the presence of God and that of people who simply showed up to be there with us—in silence and conversation, with tears and touch. What I found to be true with God, I likewise found true with people: the simple act of being there was an act of redeeming love and the first step in the miracle of healing.

God is good and He is faithful in all things. My life and hope are in Him alone.

New Year, Nineteenth Step

I have a word-related pet peeve. On good days hearing it is a small irritant like a mosquito bite—mild, but nevertheless deserving a slap. On bad days, its entering my audible receptors is akin to fingernails being dragged across a chalkboard and I want to haul off and smack the person responsible for saying it—the most consistent offender being my husband. He simply doesn’t understand what it is that I am making such a big deal about. If he’s commented once, he’s done so a hundred times, “It’s only a word… .” His justification is lame—whatever… and that is exactly the word about which I am presently ranting.

“Whatever”is a fine word when used appropriately. It can be an easy-going, laid back kind of word used to indicate a genuine acceptance of …whatever. However, it can also serve as a rude dismissive; it is using it in this sense that raises my ire. An offhand--“whatever”—is a backhanded way of sending the message that whatever the speaker is expressing is not worth the time of day or airspace it occupies. It carries a tone and attitude that is condescending, belittling, patronizing, and demeaning. Words are powerful. Our word choices have impact; they can be a tremendous blessing or a life-altering curse.

Unfortunately, we tend to remember the words that hurt more than those that help. All of us can probably think of a regretful word or two we have spoken—ill-spoken words that were a rueful choice. On the other side of the word-usage coin are words that are life-giving, words that carry a message of encouragement and hope. These are the words we so covet hearing when we find ourselves on the downside of life. Inside, our emotions may stir us to want to give a discounting, non-receptive “whatever” to spirit-lifting words with which we cannot connect at the moment. Yet, genuine expression of care and love is the Father’s heart; it carries heaven-force weight in the spirit with earth-impacting effect. We may be ineloquent speakers, marginally articulate, or linguistically challenged, but we can make a deliberate choice that the words we speak are aimed at doing good, spoken for the purpose of blessing the listener.

It is easy to take words for granted; their use is so much part of our daily lives that we can go through an entire day without giving them a specific thought. Yet, in truth, words are no small thing. As I write this, one scripture after another comes to mind that reinforces the value God gives to words—directly, and most certainly, indirectly. “Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer each one.” Col. 4:6; “How sweet are Your words to my taste…” Ps. 119:103;  “Pleasant words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the bones.”

Pr. 16:24

I believe 2 Pet. 4:7-11 beautifully expresses the heart of God and the call, ability, and purpose each of us has on a daily basis. No matter how much of a “whatever” we may be tempted to give in our state of depression, frustration, or deprivation, God remains faithful to give us His best—whatever that may be—wherever and whenever He, in His infinite wisdom and love, sees we have need.

“And above all things have fervent love for one another, for love will cover a multitude of sins…as each one has received a gift, minister it to one another, as good stewards of the manifold grace of God. If anyone speaks, let him speak as the oracles of God. If anyone ministers, let him do it with the ability which God supplies, that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom belong the glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.”  

   

New Year, Eighteenth Step

The sun is streaming in the window on this bright, but frigid, Chicago area morning. Two days ago, I was in St. Louis, Missouri, dropping one of my daughters off at school and it was a balmy 64 degrees. A five hour drive south and I was in a whole different winter world. This morning it is 10 degrees here and 55 there. Something is wrong with this picture. Perhaps it is time to consider an adjustment in scenery; a mere change in perspective would still leave me in the cold!

In my prayer time this morning I found myself asking, “Lord, what is on Your mind this morning?” I doubted it was the weather. Sometimes I can actually perceive the Lord as being quite down to earth in His God-like way, with compassion and a sense of humor woven into a cloak of tenderness which He wraps around me to warm my soul. January can be a long, cold month for many people internally, if not also externally. The days are still short and the nights long; there are more hours of dark than light. Many people find their emotional state tracking with the external conditions. For many years, I was one of them. A lie took root at the sub-conscious level. I began to identify myself as one of the unfortunate people who suffered from depression, one for whom depression had become a way of life. I felt bound by an emotional condition I could neither control, nor fix or alter. Seasons of deep darkness far outnumbered those occasionally--and mercifully—pierced by some rays of light. I hated the way I felt, but worn down over the years, I came to know and accept myself as a depressed person. I learned to live with a façade of normalcy, functioning as needed, but with a very thin veneer of well-being.

If there was one month in my memory files to be red-flagged for unhappiness and loss, January would be the one. My heart breaks for those who are struggling to cope with life, mentally and emotionally, the best they can. It is a hard-fought, hard won battle from day to day to keep going. There have been times the only help I wanted was for someone to make the misery go away; short of that, I just wanted to be left alone. The bottom line, the end of the rope, was coming to believe that I didn’t matter, life was too hard, and the pain was un-relievable—all lies, but powerful ones that were hard to unravel in the midst of life as I experienced it.

Although our perceptions may change, truth remains the same; God’s truth endures forever. God emphatically says I do matter, even though I don’t always see or feel that; God compassionately tells me that life can be very hard, almost too hard—but never hopelessly; God tenderly warns me that pain is inevitable, but temporary and treatable. What is my solace? God knows, God cares, and God carries my pain in His heart. God is with me; His presence never leaves me for a moment. God draws me under the shadow of His wings, despite the devil’s attempts to convince me God will not or cannot protect me.

The light of truth always pierces the darkness, whether we experience the lightening as immediate or delayed. How do I know this to be true in real life? The fact that I am still alive, have not given up, and have genuine hope for the future bears witness to the faithfulness of God and the power of His Spirit to sustain life in the midst of suffering. This is the unfailing love of God shed abroad in the hearts of His children—an all-encompassing love for all eternity.

“And the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it.” Jn. 1:5       

New Year, Seventeeth Step

My dad would have turned 84 today. Time warps in an unusual way once someone dies. Twenty-five years seems like just yesterday and forever ago at the same time. Perhaps it’s the nature of time itself that gives it both an interminable and evaporating quality.We live in a very time-conscious era and culture. The clock ticks and we move—fast and faster. We frequently talk about getting off the merry-go-round or hamster wheel, but infrequently do so. We tend to live life at a frenzied pace; slowing down doesn’t seem to be a realistic option. When we are forced to pause or stop for a block of time, once moving again, we find ourselves having to double-time it to catch up with life that has marched on without us. We may attempt to control time, but it can never be mastered—time is firmly in God’s hands.

When was the last time you said, or heard someone say, “Take your time. I have all the time in the world,” instead of “Hurry-up. I’m late” or “Make it quick. I don’t have time.”  Time permitting, time-management, time-sensitive--our communication is liberally seasoned with time-related references and adages. I think of how often I have heard one of life’s common conundrums summed up, “Either I have money and no time, or time and no money.” Doesn’t seem like much of a trade off. I’m not sure it’s as much an either/or proposition as it is made out to be; nevertheless the question begging answer remains: time without money or money without time? Which side would I prefer to err on?

In principle, few of us would find the exchange of life for money desirable, in any respect. How many of us would rather have one more hour with a deceased loved one, than an amount of money?  Money can’t buy relationship, but time can make one treasured. What is time in the light of eternity—does it have any value? I would posit that neither time nor money has an absolute eternal value, merely a relative one. What do we use as a frame of reference? What is God’s perspective?

A couple of thoughts occurred to me as I asked myself these questions. People may struggle with the time-money value disparity; God, however, has no such conflict. He doesn’t need money, but He wants time—with His children. Throughout Scripture, a higher value is placed on time than on money; the Word encourages people to number their days, not count their money. In Matthew, Jesus teaches, “Seek first the kingdom of God and all these things—the necessities of life that money buys—will be added unto you.” As we see to taking time with God, God sees to meeting our daily needs.

Some have made the staunch declaration: time is money. But in God’s economy,

T-I-M-E spells love, and love is the currency God honors. The quality versus quantity of time argument has been around for years—another either/or proposition—that I believe more properly belongs in the both/and category. Time and money both have their place of importance, as do quantity and quality of time. Concerning how much or little time and money we possess and the way in which we choose to steward them, perspective is a key determinant in the resultant value added to our lives.   

Regarding perspective, time is precious because life is precious. We live in a tangible-heavy world—the weight given tangibles, in many cases, is considerably higher than that given intangibles. Yet, we have a choice of scales to use in determining true value; we can use relative manmade scales or God’s absolute one. Man looks at the outward appearance, God looks at the heart. Man measures according to outcome, God assesses motivation. The rule of man is the law, the rule of God is love; the letter kills, the spirit gives life.

For many of us, these are self-evident truths. Even so, there are plentiful temptations every day to lose sight of or take for granted the opportunities we have to message someone, by the gift of a few minutes or seconds--via a text, smile, call, touch, thought, word or deed—the life-giving value of human relationship. Life is about relationship--vertically with God and horizontally with others. If anyone matters, everyone matters. It’s not all a matter of perspective, but perspective matters overall.