Repenting … Again :-)
Isn’t it amazing how relentless our God is? Remember last Sunday (Lie of Entitlement Vs. Truth of the Loving Father), how I was floored by the message at church on Numbers 11? Well tonight Jeff and I decided to visit a church, the pastor of which we know, as they have a Saturday night service. We thought we’d make a date out of it, so we packed a little picnic along with plenty of books for Dutch, and trekked into the big town to visit this church. I thought it’d be a great way to spend a Saturday night. I had no idea what I was in store for.
I knew when I walked in that it was no accident we were there. The sermon series? Lessons from the Wilderness, a series on the book of Numbers. Tonight’s message was from Numbers 14…about complaining. What?! I heard that same message last week at a different church? I mean who preaches out of Numbers? Where are the Beatitudes? Two weeks in a row? From two different pastors who have never even heard of each other? Yes. God was and is trying to get my attention.
Tonight’s sermon gripped me even more than last week’s, not because it was better, but just because I was in a place where I had, once again, been in a place of absolute miserable complaining, as you read in my earlier post. I could think of nothing good. What Pastor Joel shared literally had me blubbering tears like a baby, letting my hair fall forward over my face so the people around me wouldn’t be distracted by my weeping. Joel just returned last night from a mission trip to Mexico, where they worked amongst the very poorest there. Not only do they not have homes, the babies wear no diapers, the children have open sores, live in cardboard boxes or little tin can boxes that practically bake them in the summer. He explained that we have this unspoken belief that it’s wrong to complain unless we’re going through something really hard. Then it’s justified. Wrong! The Israelites were going through something really hard, and yet it says that God was grieved by their grumbling, and therefore let the entire generation die in the wilderness. I had never noticed before that in 14:1-2, they actually say “We wish we would have died in the wilderness.” Can you believe they actually say that? ANd then that’s what happens. God says, “Okay, you want to die in the wilderness. It’s going to be a slow 40-year death for your entire generation.”
This about scared the wits out of me. Yes, God is so gracious and loving and merciful, but the fact that I have been full-time whining and complaining is an absolute blasphemy of God’s goodness. Joel talked about how sad we would be as parents if we overheard our children, whom we sacrifice for in order to bless, talking about how miserable they are in our homes. We would be hurt, so sad, and angry. Imagine what it is like for God, who not only hears our words but see our complaining thoughts, after He’s not only provided for us materially, but given us eternal life and forgiveness of sin and escape from damnation!
Joel finished by reading an email, which offers perspective on thankfulness. I didn’t write it all down, but I’m going to put it into my own words, with my own situation. And I’m repenting … again. This time I am purposing in my heart, and asking God for grace to help me, to each and every day begin by writing down what I am thankful for. I have so far to go! I’m seeing that to the degree that we are thankful, that is the degree that we are spiritually mature. I’m basically a spiritual middle schooler then … oh dear. But I’m taking a step, albeit small, in the right direction.
—–
- I’m thankful for living with my parents because the rent is so cheap!
- I’m thankful for my dad spending all day long with Dutch because that means Dutch gets a special relationship with his grandpa that most little boys don’t get.
- I’m thankful Jeff only has a 1/2 time job because that gives him time to take Greek classes.
- I’m thankful for our school debt because it means we’ve had the privilege of higher education.
- I’m thankful for our filthy bathroom because it’s so much better than going to the bathroom in a big pit like we did at missions training camp and like they do in 3rd world countries.
- I’m thankful for migraines and morning sickness because it means I have a precious little life growing in side me!
- I’m thankful for poopy diapers because it means Dutch is healthy!
- I’m thankful for dirty dishes and meals to prepare because it means we are not starving.
- I’m thankful for my weight gain and the fact that my clothes don’t fit right because it means our baby is growing!
- I’m thankful for the zits on my face because…hmm I’ll have to think a while longer about this one. 🙂
- I’m thankful for our dirty sheets that need to be changed because they cover the most comfortable bed in the world that I love sinking into every night.
And a few others…
I’m thankful for Corn Flakes, Microwaves, trips to visit the Horsies with Dutch, treks down to the river to throw rocks with Dutch, walks down the driveway, friendly neighbors, absolutely wonderful renters in our homes who always pay their rent on time, parents who love and support us and don’t yell at me even when I’m super grumpy (all the time), a son who laughs and brings me immeasurable joy and who loves being in the nursery at church (any church!) which just blows my mind, perfectly timed messages from God’s Word that bring me to my knees, talented worship leaders who usher me into the throneroom of God, and last but not least, an amazing husband who walks through the mountains and valleys with me.
And I’m thankful for this blog, and for YOU who actually read it! Good night … and thanks!
Time Will Have to Tell
More dabbling in multiple books–I really think I’ve caught the Jeff bug. In fact, it was he who handed me John Piper’s Suffering and the Sovereignty of God. Why? It went something like this: Kari crying, again. Weeping is more like it. “I can’t do it anymore. I can’t do it. I can’t live here. I’m going crazy. It’s not like I have a bad day every once in a while. Every day is a bad day. I’m depressed; I can hardly get myself out of bed because I hate how every day is. I can’t keep doing this, but I know I can’t say that because I can’t tell God what to do and I’m supposed to be content, and every day I pray and plead with God to help me have joy and be content and not be so bitter and resentful and awful, and I’m supposed to be preparing to speak at this women’s retreat and I have nothing to say because if I say anything worth saying it will be totally fake. I can’t encourage anyone when I can’t even trust God myself…” This then drowned into more sobbing. Jeff, who listens WAY better than Peter Parker does in Spiderman 3 (and I told him that), listened quietly, stroked my cheek as I cried, and suggested that since I had nothing to pour out for the retreat ladies, I might has well just take more time to “fill up the well” so to speak, by reading something that would nourish my soul. He pulled down Suffering and the Sovereignty of God and opened it to chapter seven.
So I read one thing that at least gave me an “exercise”, something to do, which always helps. (You have to understand I need baby steps here. I’m sure you’ve surmised by now that I am not doing well. We need baby steps at this point.) The sentence was “Profound good often emerges in a crucible of significant suffering” and then the point was made that perhaps the most trying circumstances are simply those that last a long time. A quick and painful blow can often be endured, while the gnawing ache of disappointment wears us down to the core. So the question asked was this: “What has marked you for good [during this season of suffering]?” Hmm. What has marked me for good? A pretty simple exercise. Let’s see.
1. I’ve written more in the past 13+ months than ever before. 2. Maybe in the end our marriage will be stronger since this year has been so hard. 3. We haven’t spent money on clothes or house stuff. 4. We’ve gotten a lot of school done. Um….
You know what though? The truth is that I just can’t see it yet. I’m still too far in the midst of the circumstance to even see it right. The fact is right now as I sit there trying to think, I can think of ten bad things for every good thing. It’s been SO hard on our marriage. We have less money and more debt than ever before. I feel discouraged and depressed almost all the time, like it takes a supernatural measure of courage to do everday things. We have no close friends nearby. We’ve invested a year in a place where it now seems likely we won’t be long term. We have nowhere to live. We have no job. There are a million three-generation-household-living dynamics that are driving me insane (and I know we drive my parents crazy!). And the worst is that this was my choice, and I should be thankful, I know that, but I’m not. I’m miserable, and every time I think of one thing to be thankful for, there are five things that bombard my mind that are depressing.
So, sorry to get so real and raw with you, but what this has taught me is that I don’t think I’m going to see this one very clearly until later. Time will have to tell what those “good things” are. I just received in the mail my first (self-published) book of The Road to Santa Clara, complete with the cool cover Jeff designed. Now, it’s easy to see all the awesome lessons we learned there. But at the time, I was absolutely miserable and couldn’t see the forest for the trees. So I guess I’m there again. I refuse to be fake here. I refuse to tell you that I’m encouraged and seeing God’s awesome purposes and rejoicing in the midst of my frustrations. Yup, not really there yet. But I’ll at least be honest and vulnerable with you. And one thing I know, I know that will be a time when it will be clear. It’ll make sense. I’ll begin to see the good that arose from this. And you know what? I can honestly say, that even if that time never comes, I’m ok with that. Because God is God. Though my flesh may be destroyed (or my heart), with my eyes I will see God. Though he slay me yet will I trust Him. I will weep and and pour out my heart to Him because He’s said that we can. I will continue to plead with Him for grace. I’ll feel and experience the emotions. But time will have to tell what God makes of all this. ANd that’s ok, because He’s God. I don’t have to understand. It’s ok. And surprising to even myself right now…I’m ok too.