Another Peephole into the Mysteries of God

This past Sunday was my first Mother’s Day as a mom.  The week before, I began to think about my sweet little Archie and about what he’s teaching me about God’s nature.  For years I’ve read the scriptures, and I’m very familiar with the idea that God calls us—those who are in Christ—His children.  I’ve come to think of this teaching as very basic and obvious, if not cliché at times. But Archie has stripped this idea of all cliché-like qualities for me.  To imagine that God sees me and Keaton as His children is almost unbelievable, because here is what it means:

I look at Archie, and (most the time) my heart swells with joy in who he is, in his simplistic beauty, and in the purity of his expressions. He cries, and I am immediately aware, even if I’m in a deep sleep. If he’s in pain, I hurt with him. If he were to be in danger, I think the adrenaline in my body would enable me to do things way beyond my natural capability to save him.

I would do anything to save him.

Then I realized that God feels this way about me.  He not only saves me with His actions (sent Christ to die for me), but He loves me and DELIGHTS in my being. To read the above paragraph and grasp that perhaps the Creator feels those same things for me is remarkable.

Archie needs me for everything. He needs me for food, for warmth, for comfort, and for security. He needs me for cleanliness and even for movement. I teach him how to speak, to listen, to hold things and to let things go. I even teach him how to rest. A few months ago, he refused to nap. Even when he was exhausted, he fought sleep until he was so upset he just cried and cried. I taught him how to sleep, and he rests well now.

God, who is my Creator and my Savior, has also called Himself my father. I’m beginning to understand that I need Him for everything. I need him to feed my soul, to comfort me when I see and hear horrible things that rock the world, to know I am securely in the hands of the One who holds the galaxies. I need him to cleanse my soul, and I need Him to move in me.  He teaches me how to speak words that heal—not hurt—others, to listen well, and He teaches me when to fight for things and when to let go of them. Also, He tells me to rest, which is very hard.

God gave me Archie so that I could understand more of His nature, and I’m overwhelmed by the beauty I see in Him. Can’t wait for more Mother’s Days and for more “sneak-peaks” into his mysterious character.

And He Will Display His Glory

This morning I asked God to display His glory to me today. He answered my prayer, but not in the way I thought He would. Figures.

Tonight, Keaton and I attended a debate hosted by College of Charleston. Dr. Herb Silverman, a well-respected local atheist, disputed the existence of God with Mr. Jack Hoey Jr., Chief of Operations at a local mega church. As we entered the auditorium, Keaton leaned over and said to me, "If this guy [meaning the Christian] cowers in reference to creation, his whole argument will crumble." Of course, I'm used to Keaton making these extreme comments in reference to creationism, so I didn't hear his words with hungry ears. Sure enough, about twenty minutes or so into the debate (just when it began to get good), Silverman attacked Hoey where he knew he could hurt him: the Biblical account of creation. Hoey, instead of defending and trusting in the book on which he has based his entire worldview, gave a cowardly, unassertive reply that the first 11 chapters of the Old Testament are poems. Ignoring the fact that most Biblical scholars outside of Christianity interpret the intention of those passages as literal. Ignoring the fact that the fundamentals of our faith begin at creation. Ignoring the fact that undermining scripture ultimately leads to the very worldview he was attempting to dispute. Hoey focused so strongly on the aspect of a relationship with God and the Christian's responsibility to love others that he failed to correctly represent who God is. Now I'm not saying all his arguments were bad; I'm just saying I was sorely displeased with his defense of the faith. In his attempt to be relevant with the culture, he failed to give people what they need: answers. Not answers for the sake of answers, but answers that are shrouded in a deep understanding and powerful captivation with the Word of Life.

Listeners questioned him about the historical validity of the resurrection, whether to interpret scripture literally or figuratively, and about the goodness of a God who would knowingly create millions of people He knew He'd ultimately destroy. Good, thoughtful questions to which we (Christians) must seek answers. It's not enough to talk about having a relationship with God; Christians must behold His glory! The God of the Bible is far more passionate about His own glory than He is about anything else! He made relationships with us possible so that He could display His glory! It's like the pastor I heard tonight didn't understand this, or rather that he was too focused on representing a relational God (which, I agree, is important) to say hard things that the Bible teaches. Because Hoey was afraid of unpopular truth, it seemed, his arguments lacked consistency. Listening to his arguments regarding authority of God's Word felt like trying to run across a slip-and-slide: he was destined to fall.

I could go on and tell about the many areas in which this pastor compromised on his firm hold to a Biblical worldview, but that's not where most of my thoughts are right now. The question I want to ask is, "How have Christians stopped thinking?" It's like our churches, even our leaders, have becomes so "relevancy-minded" that we've left in the dust any beliefs that might culturally subject us to ridicule.

I'm sorry to say that the atheist verbally butchered the Christian tonight, and did so in a most gracious manner.

Thankfully, God doesn't rely on us to defend Him, and I'm so grateful for that. I was amazed that I could sit in a debate as bad as this one was and maintain confidence in Christ. I expected myself to get flustered and unsettled when the Christian began giving such awful answers to the atheist's most excellent questions. Instead I felt peace. What a joy to trust in His sovereignty, to know that God will claim the glory for Himself whether we represent Him well or not! And although some people may, it seems, suffer spiritual harm from the debate tonight, I know that I can trust the Lord with the souls of others. It's wonderful to rest in the reality of His character. I beheld His glory tonight through seeing His self-sufficiency and experiencing peace in His character.

Keaton and I--along with one of my best friends, Mel Martin--attended a short conference last weekend on being transformed by God. The speaker, Tim Bryant, said that change begins when we behold the glory of God. I think our faith, both the intellectual and emotional aspects, must be rooted in our beholding of God's glorious character: His holiness, sovereignty, love, and wisdom.

Keaton and I were challenged tonight. We want to behold our Creator's glory by being radical seekers after truth and after people. We want to be able to answer others' questions without compromising Christ's Word, but we also want to trust Him when we don't know the answers.

I'm so thankful that He is in control over all things: "The LORD has established His throne in the heavens, and His sovereignty rules over all"(Psalm 103:19). My heart sings, "And He will display His glory!"

Lost Keys, a Fire Truck, and 7 Seconds

I've been thinking about starting a blog for about a year now, and this morning I decided to do it! Keaton and I currently live fairly normal, low-key lives. Besides the everyday The Office-type, mundane humor, not much typically happens out of the routine. Yesterday, however, several abnormal incidents occurred--just enough oddity in a day to make me stop and think about things.

It all started when Keaton and I went to Walmart to buy paint. We had come from different locations, so we both brought our vehicles (his motorcycle and my Hyundai). Upon returning to the car (after quite an ordeal at the paint counter; we had to page them 3 times. No kidding. Keaton actually picked up the Walmart phone and attempted to make an announcement over the loudspeaker, but they've changed the code since he worked there. Go figure.), I discovered that I didn't have my keys. Sure enough, there they were on the floor of my thoroughly secured car, along with both our phones. I'm ashamed to say that, at this point, I was tired, hungry, and becoming increasingly irritable, and I expressed my frustration at Keaton, despite the fact that I was at fault for the situation. Keaton went inside and called the police station, which said that they didn't have the equipment to break into a car (bull). Next, Keaton called our insurance company and ascertained that we didn't have coverage for this type of thing, and that it would cost $45 and take one hour for GEICO to come unlock the car for us. Of course, Keaton was determined to find another option; no measures are too extreme when it comes to saving forty-five dollars.

Keep in mind that while all this phone drama is going on with Keaton, I'm in the parking lot guarding our precious newly-bought paint and looking like an idiot. Keaton returns and, after exploring our dwindling list of options, we decide to purchase a metal coat hanger to try and pick the lock. I reenter Walmart (and by now I'm starting to see all the same shoppers again and it's getting awkward) and head for the laundry aisle, only to discover that they no longer sell metal coat hangers. Another strike. 

One tough thing about moving to a new town is that, when accidents happen--like locking your keys in the car--you don't always know who to call. Keaton had one last idea, and it definitely proved to be the best yet. Not five minutes down the road from Walmart is the church we've been attending, and Keaton decided to ride his motorcycle over there and ask if anyone could help. I forgot to say that he still had his motorcycle key. We agreed that would probably be the best course of action, and so while Keaton headed off to find someone to rescue us, I continued to bravely guard the paint.

Sitting in a parking lot without a blessed thing to do, I was forced to think about the last few hours. I had been rude and impatient with my husband when it was MY negligence that initially put us in this frustrating situation. I knew that I was in the wrong, and I felt guilty. But there is a distinct difference between feeling guilty and changing. I knew what I needed was a change on the inside, or I would again be impatient with Keaton when he came back. So I prayed that God would change me and help me to love Keaton and to be thankful for him. After all, he was being so helpful!

As I sat on the curb holding my buggy, a woman passed me by and asked if I was okay. I briefly explained the situation to her, told her help was coming, and thanked her for asking. She smiled, rather awkwardly (for she was a strange woman) and then said, "Well it happens to the best of us." She continued walking, then turned once more and said, "To some of us more than others!" Yes, thank you, I'm thinking. She took a couple more steps toward her car, and then yelled, "That happened to me once and , ooooh, it was awful! But you know, we all have tough days. Just gotta get through 'em!" By now, this lady is pretty far away, so I yell back across the parking lot, "Yeah, it's frustrating, but things happen sometimes!" She turns from me, putting her groceries in her car. Then she looks at me once more and yells, "Yep, but you know, that's the key to life; just getting through it!" Her words stopped me in my thoughts. In the midst of my frustration, my discomfort, my routine, I stopped and thought about what she said. No, life is not about 'getting through.' We were created to have life and to have it abundantly (John 10:10). The woman was standing at her car, an awkward distance from me. I wrestled with whether to say something to her about abundant life in Christ. It would be awkward. Should I ask her a question? I would have to yell. She might be busy. She might shrug me off. I had about seven seconds to make the decision.

I once heard a fantastic talk entitled "The Seven-Second Window." The speaker, an avid football fan, explained that the outcome of a football game is determined by short plays, small moments of opportunity, averaging about seven seconds a play. Similarly, our lives are heavily impacted by the decisions we make in crucial 'seven-second windows.' Am I going to respond to my husband in anger? Am I going to choose to talk to my neighbor and build a relationship with her rather than rushing off to do my errands? Am I going to have time with the Lord, or am I going to press snooze once more? Small decisions impact the outcome of our lives. I had seven seconds to respond to the woman in the Walmart parking lot, and I was silent.

As soon as she drove off, I regretted my decision. This past weekend Keaton's cousin died unexpectedly, and since then Keaton and I have both been contemplative over the brevity of life. My heart broke for this woman, for the possibility that she may live every day of her life 'trying to get through it' when Christ has so much more to offer her. And there I was, hogging grace. I prayed for her and prayed that God would make me more burdened for the lost.

A few minutes later, my wonderful husband reappeared on his motorcycle, followed by another car, followed by a fire truck. Yes, a fire truck. Apparently, the church feeds the firemen every Wednesday night because the fire station is next door to the church. When Keaton showed up at the church, the firemen had just left, but it took only one call to get in touch with them. Liggand, a very kind man from the church, had been the one to make the call. So here come five men, determined to retrieve my incarcerated keys: Keaton, Liggand, and three firemen. In about five minutes, I had my keys in my hand and we were smothering the firemen with thank-yous (to which one of them replied, "It's okay, we weren't doin' anythan anywa---" and then he trailed off).

What an eventful hour and a half! As frustrating as moments of yesterday were, I am thankful for God permitting my absentmindedness. He stopped me short in order to reclaim my attention on the coming of His kingdom. Thank you, Father, for fighting harder for my sanctification than I do.