Kindness

If the words you speak to a stranger

are more kind

than the ones you share with those who gather around your table,

more sweet than the morsels you deliver to the one who shares your bed,

then, perhaps, you have good manners.

But good manners are not a fruit of the Spirit.

“²² But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, ²³gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law” (Galatians 5:23-23, New International Version, 2010) Emphasis mine

Why is it easier sometimes to show kindness to everyone but those living under your roof? Do you have this struggle, or am I alone in uttering careless words to my loved ones that I would never say to anyone else?

Link up your post on kindness below, and please link back to my post with either a hyperlink or my button (grab the code off the sidebar). Be sure to read some of the other posts who have joined us, and show some kindness by leaving comments on the other blogs! Thank you for taking this journey with us!

http://www.simply-linked.com/listwidget.aspx?l=807b01a4-50e2-4752-9dcc-7b80625af071

Assuming the Position

I watched as this thick-haired girl knelt beside him, both father and daughter bowed faced down before the Lord. I thought how my own children have never witnessed that kind of worship from me, nor do I remember seeing my own parents assume that position before the Lord.

I grew up in a liturgical church. We knelt. We stood. We sat. And then we’d kneel some more. I didn’t know the reason behind any of the positions we took, but I followed obediently going through the motions.

When I visited other churches, I viewed with skepticism those who dared to clap or raise a hand. Surely, their reactions weren’t genuine. They were doing it for show or to not be outdone by the person next to them. Even though I had no idea why I knelt or stood, those positions felt comfortable and, therefore, right.

Over time, as I was further removed from the church of my youth, I found my former worship sterile and lacking, the latter more alive. While I never waved my arms in the air, I felt more comfortable in a room where people were rejoicing through song, where they seemed genuinely in love with their God.

Yet, I still didn’t understand.

Watching that father and daughter marks the first time my eyes were opened as I closed them to worship from my heart and not from a missalette or a passing feeling. That night at church, with my husband at my side, I didn’t do what was comfortable–I did what I needed to communicate before my God.

Shachah: to kneel, face down to the ground. A position of reverence. “You are God, and I am in awe.” Position of worship used 80% of the time in the Old Testament.

Barak: to kneel. A position of surrender. “You are God, and I am not.”

Yadah: to praise, a standing position. “You are God, and I wait.” Psalm 43 and Psalm 79

Halal: to praise the Lord, to clamor foolishly. “You are God, and I praise.” Psalm 150

And what struck me about this evening as I learned the different positions of worship is how much time I have spent in church not understanding what I do or why I do it. After I left the liturgical church and really dug into Scripture, I saw the beauty and meaning behind the rituals that had seemed empty. And after Friday night, I learned that people who raise both hands in church just might not be crazy. Maybe.

And, perhaps, the church of my youth and the church of my adulthood are both right and can learn from one another. And, perhaps, I shouldn’t base my worship on what is comfortable for me but, instead, on what the Lord deserves.

I’m linking up with Michelle today. If you’ve never read her work before, click on the image above–you will not be disappointed!

And continuing with our Journeys through the fruits of the Spirit, this Friday’s link-up will be on kindness:

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, ²³gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law” (Galatians 5:22-23, New International Version, 2010). Emphasis mine

A Radical Perspective

I used to read. Almost five years ago, before three babies came along and interrupted my R.E.M. every three hours, before toddlers refused to sleep in their ‘big boy’ and ‘big girl’ beds, I used to read every night before my head hit the pillow. Now, my eyes start to flutter and the windows in my brain start closing with each word I try to decipher.

Around Christmas, I started reading Radical by David Platt. I’m embarrassed to say what place my bookmark is currently holding. And while I still have two thirds of the book to go, I am amazed how the ideas I’ve read challenge me every day.

The premise of the book is that the American church has manipulated Christianity to fit with the American dream. Our religion is more about comfort than taking seriously the commands of the Bible. Near the very beginning of the book, Platt compared two different versions of how Jesus is presented in church, the modern-day feel-good gospel and the biblical gospel, and I often wonder which version I have chosen to follow:

‘”The modern-day gospel says, ‘God loves you and has a wonderful plan for your life. Therefore, follow these steps, and you can be saved.’ Meanwhile, the biblical gospels says, ‘You are an enemy to God, dead in your sin, and in your present state of rebellion, you are not even able to see that you need life, much less to cause yourself to come to life. Therefore, you are radically dependent on God to do something in your life that you could never do.’

The former sells books and draws crowds. The latter saves souls.”(Platt, 2010, p. 32)

I began to look at how I worship God. Where are my thoughts during church, during worship? What is my prayer life like? When I am talking to God, am I more in awe of him, or am I focused on myself?

Christianity can feel like a paradox at times. The God of the universe, all-powerful and full of hate toward sin, loves me and wants a relationship with me. He demands my worship and will punish those who don’t give it, yet He desires all to come to Him and call Him ‘Abba,’ or ‘Daddy.’

I tend to focus on the Daddy part. I like the loving God who calls me to His lap to sit and talk. I like the God who sent His Son out of love for me, who can forgive my worst sins because of Jesus’ sacrifice.

And I believe that all of those characteristics of God are true.

Yet, at times, I have focused so much on those traits, that I have turned Jesus into a self-help book. Jesus is my ‘Mr. Fix-it.’ I come to Jesus asking Him to make me a better mother, a better wife. I ask for help when we are having financial difficulties, and I ask for wisdom when deciding where to send my son for kindergarten. Every day I have my list of requests, and I eagerly await for Him to answer them.

But I forget the other side. I forget the depraved nature of my soul. I forget that God is a jealous God, demanding my full worship. I forget His warnings against sin and choose to focus on grace. I forget His call to care for the poor and share the Gospel to the ends of the earth. I forget to stand in awe.

And while I completely believe that God wants to hear the concerns of my heart, to “cast all [my] anxiety on him because he cares” (1 Peter 5:7), I also believe that one day ” every knee will bow…every tongue will confess” (Isaiah 45:23) that He is the Lord.

Perhaps if I encountered God with true awe and reverence, remembering how unworthy I am to stand in His presence, engaging in true worship, then I would see more of those changes I want to see in my life. If I truly allowed myself to see how small, insignificant I am to stand in the presence of the King of Kings, then I would realize how amazing and incomprehensible is His gift of grace and how incredible that He invites me into a relationship with Him. And if I really believed all I said, I couldn’t help but share.

I forget that Christianity isn’t about me. It’s about Him.

Perhaps, I shouldn’t venture into the next third of the book until I get this main idea down.

Platt, D. (2010). Radical. Colorado Springs, CO: Multnomah Books.

I’m linking up today with Michelle for her “Hear it on Sunday, Use it on Monday” link-up. If you have never visited her blog, you are missing out! She has the most beautiful words and pictures to accompany them–please check her out today!

And remember to come back Friday to link up for our next ‘Journeys’ topic! We will continue exploring the fruits of the Spirit, this week’s being forbearance. Click on the ‘Journeys’ tab above for more information on how to participate:

^22″ But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, ²³gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law” (Galatians 5:22-23).

Tears at His Feet

I’ve always tried to do what’s right. As a teenager, I didn’t give my parents a whole lot of trouble, and if I did do something wrong, I normally told them before they found out. Because of the choices I made, my friends in high school nicknamed me ‘The Puritan.’ I wasn’t too fond of that title, but I decided it was better to have people kid me for trying to follow the rules than the alternative.

So when it came to my faith, I didn’t have a dramatic turning point where, having hit rock bottom, I surrendered my life to God to save me. I grew up going to church, and I knew I was supposed to believe in God, so I did. My understanding of what following Christ entails grew as I grew, and I continue to learn today. But, while I am fully aware that I am a sinner (my kids remind me every day), I can simultaneously fall prey to the idea that I’ve done pretty well crossing my t’s and dotting my i’s.

This attitude may have clouded my understanding of Scripture.

The other day, I was reading the story in Luke chapter seven of the sinful woman who anointed Jesus’ feet with perfume and her tears. Simon, the pharisee who invited Jesus to his home for dinner, thinks to himself that, if Jesus were a prophet, he would realize what kind of woman is touching him. Jesus knows Simon’s thoughts and confronts him by sharing an illustration of a moneylender who forgives two debts–one small and one huge. He asks Simon who will love the moneylender more, and Simon answers that, of course, the person who had the bigger debt.

Jesus then compares the woman to the person who had the big debt–she could not stop kissing Jesus and anointing his feet because she knows what He would have to forgive: “Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—as her great love has shown. But whoever has been forgiven little loves little” (Luke 7:47, New International Version, 2010).

I have read that story many times, and I’ve always walked away with the same understanding: How wonderful that I worship a God who accepts everyone, no matter one’s past! I must not live life like Simon, judging others, but instead, I must extend my arms to those who are outcast, showing them that God’s love is available to all–no one’s sin is too great to be forgiven.

And while these conclusions are valid, I fear I missed the greater point:

I am that woman.

No matter how hard I tried and continue to try to live an upright life, I am so far from God’s perfect standard that He should never forgive me. Compared to a holy and righteous God, I am not fit to stoop in His presence nor stand as an ambassador for His Son.

Yet He does forgive me.

And until I can realize the enormity of my unworthiness, I can never fully love Him who sacrificed all to clothe me in white, making me worthy.

“But whoever has been forgiven little loves little.”

And whoever has been forgiven little, forgives little. Until I can see past all the right choices that I have made to the depraved nature of my own soul, I will never fully be able to forgive those who have wronged me. Once I see that my sins aren’t placed against another’s on the Scales of Justice, once I stop comparing my wrongs to those wrongs committed against me, I will be free to forgive and love.

Once I take the painful look at myself for who I am, once I see the soiled condition of my soul, I will weep like the woman at Jesus’ feet–not out of despair or hopelessness–but, instead, out of an abundant and overflowing love. For my vision will no longer remain cloudy, my sight blurred by my list of meaningless works. And for the first time, I will see. I will see that my debt to forgive wasn’t small, and neither should be the love that I give He that forgave.

Now it’s your turn! How did God speak to you this week in regard to forgiveness?Link up your post, or add a comment below. Share the love, and comment on other blogs, too!

http://www.linkytools.com/thumbnail_linky_include.aspx?id=74156

Turn My Heart

Prior to Christmas, I began reading through the book of Luke. I didn’t even make it past the first chapter when my eyes read over a verse that pierced my heart and has since convicted me daily:

“And he will go on before the Lord, in the spirit and power of Elijah, to turn the hearts of the parents to their children and the disobedient to the wisdom of the righteous—to make ready a people prepared for the Lord” (Luke 1:17).

The angel Gabriel is prophesying to Zechariah about the son whom he will father, yet when I read those words, every time I re-read them, I hear him speaking to me.

“to turn the hearts of the parents to their children”

I live my life for my children, and I sacrifice, but I also gripe daily, yearning for some time to hide away in a corner and read a book. Yearning for the day when I don’t immediately go from their prolonged bedtime to mine. Yearning for an hour to clean the bathrooms and then wondering what the heck is wrong with me that my dream is to clean bathrooms?

Where is my heart turned? Toward them or me?

********************************************************************************

In case you missed it, this week’s journey is on peace. Come link up on Friday with your own post on this theme.

The Perfect Gift

The week was filled with wrapping paper and shiny bows. Warm meals shared with family filled our bellies, as carols by candlelight filled our souls. Rich cups of hot cocoa graced our Christmas morning and decadent desserts our Christmas meal–our children never feared a lack of sugar. Smiles and laughter echoed throughout our homes as children ripped into presents, and the cries accompanying meltdowns reverberated against the walls as the night beckoned children to bed. The week was beautiful and exhilarating and tiring, and I still haven’t recovered.

Yet of all the moments of Christmas, my favorite arrived Christmas night as little white flakes filled the ebony sky, giving us one more gift together.

Crazy hats and mis-matched gloves served as testimony to a family who hasn’t seen much snow, and snow delivered the perfect excuse to extend family time a little longer…

And as the cold bit my face and my fingers went numb, I couldn’t help but think that this winter wonderland was the perfect end to the holiday–the holiday where we remembered the gift that didn’t cost us anything but made us white as snow.

What was your favorite gift this Christmas?

Rethinking Christmas

Something magical happens as the month moves from November into December. The air gets a little cooler, and there is a distinct smell of Christmas. I savor the smell of Christmas trees and burning logs in the fireplace, making a cold night cozy and enjoyable. I could sing carols all year long, and my heart smiles as the radio plays songs of a quiet town and a bright star. I take delight in the squeals of my children as we pass a house covered in bright, colored lights, even though I prefer a more simply decorated home of white candles and wreaths. I love this time of year and the beauty that it brings.

And while I love all the joys of the season, every year I find an internal battle erupt within me as the talk of Christmas begins. When I became an adult, little things about Christmas here and there began to bother me, but it wasn’t until I had children that a full conflict ensued.

My first priority was to ensure that my children understood why we had Christmas, that Christmas is ultimately about the gift of salvation God sent to humanity through a tiny baby, yet I couldn’t reconcile the way we celebrated Christmas with its actual meaning. Even after my husband and I took specific measures to ensure Christ was a part of our family’s Christmas, the explanations I gave to my children didn’t make sense, even to me.

I remember confiding in our Bible study when my first child was nearing two my uncertainty of how to introduce Santa Claus into Christmas without making him the hero, pushing Christ aside. One woman suggested if I told my children the story of St. Nicholas, I wouldn’t have a problem. So I read up on St. Nicholas, trying to fill in the gaps of my understanding, and I explained Christmas to my kids: “St. Nicholas loved Jesus so much that he brought gifts to children whose families didn’t have enough money for the things they needed…and we remember St. Nicholas by having Santa Claus bring you presents even though your family is not poor.“

We did our best to keep the gifts at Christmastime from becoming excessive, so we gave each child three gifts: “When Jesus was born, He received three gifts from the Three Wise Men…and even though it’s not your birthday, we thought you should get presents because clearly the gift of Jesus is not enough.” Every year I struggle as I try to connect the true meaning of the holiday with how we celebrate. But the fact of the matter is that I struggle because the connection is weak.

Let me be clear–I’m not opposed to presents, I’m not opposed to spending time with loved ones, and I’m certainly not opposed to the good cheer and good deeds that traditionally accompany Christmastime. However, I’m not sure that how we celebrate this holy day is, in fact, holy, or resembles anything that would make Jesus proud, and if we’re going to have a holiday with His name on it, the day should resemble Him and His values.

How could He take delight in a holiday that we made, supposedly in His honor, that causes the family who can barely meet its bills added stress over not being able to give its kids a ‘good’ Christmas? Why would he rejoice in the amount of money being spent, possibly debt being created, in order to give our loved ones things that really have nothing to do with the love of Christ? While my family sits around a tree, ripping into gifts that we don’t need, another family around the globe goes without water and the basic necessities we take for granted. When Jesus was on earth He lived humbly and modestly, showing compassion and mercy to those around Him. How could He then find glory and honor in a day devoted to exalting ourselves, our materialism, even good things like our families–but not Him?

Christ did not come to make us comfortable. Christ did not come so we could enjoy large family gatherings. He came to seek and save the lost. He came as a baby to one day lay down His life as a sacrifice, and those of us who believe are called to serve as His ambassadors. Yet the day we set aside to remember His gift seems to gloss over the call that was put upon us.

I remember when I was younger having Jewish and Hindu friends who celebrated Christmas. I didn’t understand how they could celebrate a day that held such important religious significance to the Christian community, how they could simply remove ‘Christ’ out of ‘Christmas’ and continue on with the holiday. Yet, as I look at how most Christians celebrate Christmas, I can honestly say there isn’t much of a difference. Perhaps some of us go to church, but only if our church offers a Christmas Eve service, and only if the time won’t interfere with our family’s plans. We may read from the Gospel of Luke or sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Jesus, but the rest of the day looks remarkably similar.

As Christians, we get frustrated when franchises instruct their employees to say, ‘Happy Holidays’ instead of ‘Merry Christmas,’ and we lament the disputes over where we can and cannot display our nativity scenes. We desperately want to keep Christ in Christmas, yet, perhaps, we never really invited Him in.

But what if this year we changed Christmas? What if this year we really did make it about Him? What if instead of making a Christmas budget for all the gifts we had to buy with a portion set aside for the good deeds we wanted to do, we instead made a budget for all the good deeds we wanted to do with a small portion set aside for gifts? What if we enjoyed a quiet night, a holy night singing carols around the tree reflecting on our Savior who came with nothing so that we could have everything, and we let that realization be enough?

What if Christmas were known around the world as the time of year when Christians took care of all of God’s children? Not just filling up a shoebox or making a donation to a charity but sacrificially giving up our own gifts in the hope that others might encounter the one True Gift. What if the month of December were marked by Christians giving food and building wells as a means to show the world the Bread of Life who promises that we will never grow hungry or thirst?

Frankly, the thought is a little scary. Who wants to mess with Christmas? But perhaps it’s time. I can spend years trying to make the connection for my children between their meaningless gifts and Jesus, or I can rethink Christmas and give it real meaning.

I want to invite Him in. I want to remove the hustle and bustle of the holidays to focus on the little babe in the manger. I want to push past the mound of presents that I don’t need to remember the only true treasure that I couldn’t buy. I want my gifts to others to point the way to a loving Father, and I want them to know the gift that He has given me. I want His gift to be enough. And I want Jesus to smile and say, “Yes, I’ll put my name on this holiday,” because the day was truly His.

Added December 1, 2010: I just discovered a whole website devoted to changing Christmas this year by turning our hearts towards those in need. Check out ChristmasChange for more blogs on this topic.

Why I’ll Still Call Myself a Christian

Last week Anne Rice, the best-selling author of Interview with the Vampire and the subsequent sequels part of The Vampire Chronicles, stirred up some controversy among the Christian community when she posted to her Facebook status that she was quitting Christianity. Rice had previously been an atheist and later became a Christian, joining the Catholic church. In her recent decision, Rice states that she is still a follower of Jesus but refuses to be part of a community that is “anti-gay” and “anti-feminist,” among other reasons.

Many came out in support of Rice’s decision asserting that following Jesus and being a part of the Church are not the same thing. Some wrote blogs stating they made the same decision years ago. The comments sections of articles and blogs relating to Anne Rice were filled with discussions over the Church and Christianity.

I can understand Rice’s sentiment. Many times, I have felt embarrassed by the actions of those claiming the religion of which I am a part. I’ve watched different groups spewing out hate in the name of Christ, or others watering down His teachings until they were meaningless, and I’ve wondered how it was possible for us to be following the same Teacher. Yet, I will not leave this group.

On all sides of my family, I have watched as family members have made poor choices. Some of their choices have embarrassed me, and they served as a poor reflection of the family name. Despite their choices, however, they are still part of my family. I can legally change my name, but the fact still remains–we share the same blood. There is no denying that we share a common bond. And because of that family bond, I cannot help but care for and pray for the redemption of those family members, no matter how much I despise their actions.

As a Christian, I belong to another family, and whether or not I agree with the actions of every member, I cannot divorce myself from it: “Just as each of us has one body with many members, and these members do not all have the same function, so in Christ we who are many form one body, and each member belongs to all the others” (Romans 12: 4-5). And when I became a Christian, I didn’t join because of the actions of the Church; I joined because of the actions of Christ. He is the only one blameless, and because of His grace I can be forgiven. Likewise, because of His grace, I can also forgive, even those within this same body.

While the debates rolled on over Rice’s decision, I couldn’t help but think that perhaps her eyes were on the wrong people. Yes, there are definitely those who have embarrassed the name of Christ, and here’s the kicker–I am one of those who has brought embarrassment to His name on a daily basis. Any time I lose my patience with my children and utter an unkind word, when I don’t love my husband unconditionally but rather base my actions on my feelings for the day, when I choose comfort over conviction, I have tarnished the name of Christ. And because I know the depravity of my own soul, I cannot cast blame on others for the poor standing of Christianity in the world.

Instead, I choose to look to better examples, and I don’t have to look far. I see members of my own church heading to Mozambique to build wells and bring clean water to communities who have only known filth. I see those among the Christian community fighting to bring awareness and an end to sex trafficking within our own country. And across the globe, I see those dying to be part of the name that Anne Rice has cast off. When I look to these examples, I can only feel gratitude to a God who lets me be part of such a community, of which I am the least.

The Christian community is full of problems, but thanks to Jesus, it’s also full of grace. And amidst of all the problems, the Church is full of members whose eyes are locked on Christ’s, whose hearts are tuned in to His purpose and are doing good around the world. Rather than form my own island, I choose to look to the Teacher and the examples of those living right and hope that my actions will bring glory to His name. I choose to accept His grace and extend it to others because it is united as one body that we can do the most good for this world.

Yes, I will still call myself a Christian. I see the good and the potential for good that we are doing, and I want to be a part of this group. I see that while I can certainly believe and pray to Jesus by myself, Jesus never intended for me to walk this journey alone but with other believers. Yes, I will still call myself a Christian–I’m proud to.

Losing Jesus

Many times in my Christian walk, I feel caught in the middle. I’m not conservative enough for some, yet for others, I’m too rigid. On one view, my opinions might match up completely with the fundamentalist Christian, while on another, I might relate to that of a person with a more liberal interpretation of Scripture. I don’t feel completely home in either camp, and most of the time, I don’t want to.

Last week I was a spectator to the blog world’s ping pong match between those who feel Scripture has a clear mandate for mothers to stay home with their children and those who do not. Some stay-at-home moms wrote posts exhorting other moms to stay home as God’s will, while other women argued back that God’s will for some mothers might be to work outside the home. I read some of these posts and left feeling…well…uncomfortable.

Once again, I was caught in the middle. I stay home with my children, but I honestly didn’t even know there was a verse from Scripture to defend that decision, had I wanted to use one. I felt like a child watching her parents fight, confused by the argument and not wanting to take sides because she loves both of her parents.

For days I thought about what I had read. I thought about the blogs passionately defending the idea that a mother’s place is at home with her children, wanting to lead all mothers to that same conclusion, and I thought about those equally as passionate refuting that idea, that while staying home with one’s children is fine, so is working. Both sides of the argument had their own verses from Scripture. I thought about those who left comments on different blogs saying they were so hurt by the discussion, the implication that they were sinners, and had decided to never read that particular blog again. And I thought to myself, “How does this happen? Why has this topic blown up into such a heated debate between Christians?”

Because both sides know that they’re right. Whether they’ve decided that God is clear in His mandate or that there is no mandate, both sides feel in their hearts that they are right. When people truly believe they know the truth, they are going to want to share, not to leave others in the dark. And when their values have been attacked, especially a value they have prayerfully received, they are going to defend it.

I don’t know how it is possible for two people who are honestly seeking God’s will, looking for guidance from the Holy Spirit to interpret Scripture, to come to vastly different conclusions. I don’t know how, but I know it happens on almost every topic in Christianity. From politics to homosexuality to alcohol to the movies we watch, there are people on complete opposite sides of the spectrum defending their views as God’s views.

And the arguments are personal because, after all, if you were honestly seeking God’s will to an issue, and He told you His will, what does that mean if someone else says that God told him something different? Did you hear God wrong, or did he?

Perhaps the problem with all these debates is that they’re missing the point. While each discussion may have started with Jesus as the focus and with pure intentions, the further and further into the debates we get, the more and more Jesus gets pushed to the side. No longer are our eyes on our Creator and His will but on defending our own personal agendas. There is a fine line between causing a person to think, to stretch his or her faith, and causing dissension in the church. And sometimes I don’t think we know the difference.

While we are defending our views on why we should vote for this candidate for president, there are people living under the control of corrupt governments, unable to get clean drinking water. While we debate whether or not Christians can be pro-choice, there’s a frightened pregnant teenager at our local high school who doesn’t know where to turn. And while we debate whether or not moms should stay at home, there are millions of orphans in the world who need a family. Instead of watching us debate, the world should see us act.

I don’t know why I can believe something so strongly, see something so clearly in Scripture, yet have my neighbor not see what I see. I don’t know how someone can make me feel guilty for a view I have when I sought the Lord first. And I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t have to know. My faith is based on Jesus, and I shouldn’t understand everything, otherwise I don’t need faith.

Our world needs Jesus, not our opinions. They need us to be His hands and feet, to take His love to those who need it most. And while we should seek God’s will and learn and debate and feel solid in our convictions, we can’t confuse our convictions with the face of Jesus. The issues we debate are important but not at the expense of Him in whose name we debate.