Delighting in God
I just finished reading a trilogy, by Liz Curtis Higgs, recommended by my sister-in-(love). She let me borrow her copies, warning me they were not a light read. These historical novels, set in Scotland in the 1790s, depict a creative rendering of the story of Jacob, Leah, and Rachel, from the biblical account. A mere several chapters in Genesis, elaborated into almost 1500 pages of tragedy, love, faith, injustice, forgiveness, grace, reconciliation, death, and life. The first one Thorn in my Heart was amazing. Wonderful. Heart-wrenching, but redemptive. The second one, Fair is the Rose, sent me into a fit of despair. It was so wretchedly emotional I wasn’t even sure I could finish it. But I did. The third and final one, Whence Came a Prince, accomplished what I was certain it couldn’t. It was faithful to the character of God, true to the biblical account, and wholly and deeply satisfying to read.
What I’m left with in these stories is the profound faith of Leah, named Leanna in the books. She is the one virtually immovable character, the one of selfless love, tireless patience, and endless faith. All through the book her thoughts read in italics, her thoughts that are nothing other than scripture, the Word of God, used as a means of taking every thought captive, a means of renewing her mind, a means of reminding herself of the character, mercy, and love of God in the midst of unthinkably unjust circumstances and cruelty.
So I’m left profoundly affected by Leana, and am chagrined today to find myself so closely parroting Rachel (named Rose in the book). Rose, though a wonderful character in the end, is largely consumed with herself. She is young, vain, impetuous. She has wonderful virtue as well, but is largely consumed with herself, even if it is in a sweet and seemingly innocent way. But I long to be Leanna. But am I willing to endure what Leanna endured in order to become the pearl, the beautiful gem worn by years of adversity? Rose was the beautiful one, but Leanna shown with a unearthly beauty, the radiance of her radical faith in God. Could it be that adversity beautifies us? Certainly not outwardly, but we know it does have its work in us that we can made complete, lacking nothing. So how is this possible? How can I, how can we, like Leanna, bravely face the world, with all its pain, and count it all joy?
Insert John Piper. After finishing the trilogy, my spirit craved a little bit of non-fiction. I like to go back and forth between fun, can’t-put-the-book-down fiction and non-fiction that requires a slower go, taking my time chewing on the morsels of truth contained. So after finishing, I checked on Dutch who was still sound alseep, exhausted from his day a the zoo. So I pulled Desiring God off the shelf (I know, how can I call myself a Piper fan if I’ve never read his classic?). I’ve read the abbreviated version The Dangerous Duty of Delight, and many of his other works, but haven’t buckled down and traipsed through the weighty (and lengthy) discourse on Christan Hedonism. But it was perfect for today. That is how. That is how I can bravely face whatever, can fill myself with God’s truth, can shine with the radiance of faith despite how the turmoil raging inside. By delighting in God. His assertion stems from two great thinkers:
Blaise Pascal: All men seek happiness. This is without exception. Whatever different means they employ, they all tend to this end. The cause of some going to war, and of others avoiding it, is the same desire in both, attending with different views. The will never takes the least step but to this object. This is the motive of every action of every man, even of those who hang themselves.
CS Lewis: …Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered to us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.
I’ve read both of those things before, but tonight it struck me afresh. My distress is not because I am evil for wanting a home and a paycheck and meaninful work. My distress is simply because God has infinite pleasures at His right hand, and I am busy seeking lesser pleasures, which will never satisfy my soul. Simple. I know. I am an immature Christian at best, still learning elementary things. But better to learn the elementary things again than move on too fast and miss the foundational truths. God help me. Help me to, like Leanna, fill my mind with Your truth, put my hope in Your Word, set my sights on Your promise. Help me to desire true joy, true security, true intimacy with You. Help me to delight myself in You. You are all that is delightful.
Longing for Home
Today was very much a day where selfish Kari reigned. Determined to enjoy this time of “rest” and not sit around and think about how discouraged we feel that we don’t have a job and our house won’t sell and we’ve nothing to do but wait…we planned a family day with Dutch. It’s $2 Tuesday so we figured for $4, we could spend the day at the zoo and then we’d been generously given a gift card to PF Chang’s restaurant, so we figured we’d use that and enjoy a big delicious mid-day meal and make it home in time for Jeff to leave for tutoring at 2:30. And though the food was amazingly wonderful and Dutch did love petting the little baby goats, the rain poured on us (when will the sun come?!), and apparently every school district in Oregon had taken advantage of $2 Tuesday as well, so after peering over a sea of heads to get a peek at the reluctant wildlife, we were so cold and wet that when lunch time came we decided to forego the Northwest exhibits and head for cover and food. As I said, lunch was delicious, but I understand now why people take their toddlers to McDonalds instead. Our waitress was wonderful, but by the time we left there was more food on the floor, in Dutch’s hair, and on our clothes than in our bellies.
So we came back with an exhausted, cold, wet toddler and all I could think about was how much I wanted to go home. Home home. A real home. Jeff left for tutoring and I laid in bed and cried, exhausted, listening to Dutch cry in the room next to us, trying to settle his little overtired self down. Why, God? We’re “living by faith”, we’re trusting You. Why can’t you just provide something, anything, for us? Why?
And as I prayed, I thought of China. I opened my laptop and searched China Earthquake, and began to read, and began to see. I searched until I found photos, dozens and dozens of them. Photos with warnings on them: Caution: Graphic Content. The real stuff. Small, children’s fingers poking out of a heap of rubble. Rows and rows of bodies covered in sheets. Wailing and weeping. Collapsed schools–elementary schools. Brave rescuers. Pain. Unmasked, hideous pain. Why, God? My little world enlarged beyond my own bedroom. Why, God?
Home. That’s why. This world is not our home. The freedom we enjoy is the freedom that causes the pain that gnaws at us at night and steals our perfect joy. We’ve chosen evil. This world that’s full of the fallen, the sinful, the imperfect. This world that’s under the sway of the evil one. But someday, Behold, I make all things new. Ahhh. Those words. Someday we will hear those words. Someday the One who created us will create again, a new heaven, a new earth. He will wipe every tear from our eye, He will quiet us with His love and sing over us as we revel in His presence. We ache because we were created for something greater. I still don’t understand it all. I still pray and plead with God to comfort those families in China right now who are suffering beyond my comprehension. I pray that God would reveal Himself to them, that they would know Him and His Son Jesus Christ, the one who makes all things new. I pray they, and I, and you, would know that what we long for is home. Our true home. Our home with Him, for all eternity. Home.