Sacred Mundane: The Blog

What is your life characterized by? Anxiety or peace? Frustration or joy? Bondage or freedom?

—

After the Apostle Paul had been preaching the gospel for 14 years, and he heads up to Jerusalem to check with the primary church leaders about the purity and validity of the gospel he’s preaching.

Then, when he’s in Jerusalem, Paul says that “false believers [came] who had infiltrated our ranks to spy on the freedom we have in Christ Jesus and to make us slaves.” Who were these spies? Judaizers. Our modern-day version would be called legalists. And what did these legalists come to spy out? FREEDOM.

The true gospel is characterized by freedom.

The true gospel is freeing. It is characterized by freedom. If our lives are not characterized by an increasing measure of freedom, then we are somehow being yoked into something other than the true gospel.

Adding to the gospel makes us slaves because we will always be enslaved to all the added requirements of the law or trying to be good enough. That is called legalism. That is NOT freedom. The gospel always brings FREEDOM. It is characterized by freedom. If our lives are not characterized by an increasing measure of freedom, then we are somehow being yoked into something other than the true gospel.

The question for us is, Am I walking in Freedom? Galatians 5:1 says, “For FREEDOM Christ has set you free.” The gospel FREES us from being slaves to sin and FREES us to live abundant lives of joy, freedom, and fruitfulness.

2 Corinthians 3:17 17 Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.

John 8:32: And you shall know the truth and the truth will set you FREE.

John 8:36 So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed.

Romans 6:18 You have been set free from sin and have become slaves to righteousness.

The TRUE gospel sets us free from sin. It gives us freedom. The true gospel is a FREE gift of grace, we haven’t earned it, and when we truly receive it and take it into ourselves, it sets us free.

{The question for us today: Is my life characterized by an increasing measure of FREEDOM? Let’s consider that today … Thanks for reading.}

We’re talking about struggle today with some sweet sisters over at Jennifer Adams blog… join us there?

Struggle. Yes. Do I struggle? Yes. What am I struggling with now? Depends on the day. Usually it’s a nice cocktail of parenting woes, wounded ego, body battles, and just plain discouragement. There is no one big “thing” in my life right now but check back with me in an hour. 😉 Whatever the daily struggle may be, a few years ago God impressed a certain truth on my heart and I revisit it often. It gives me the courage to lower myself into the struggle and let it wash me with the cleansing waters of humility. I pray it can encourage you to do the same…

 In this particular season I had been a bit discouraged with parenting.  Specifically, with my three-year-old’s behavior in Sunday School at church.  We had done the sticker charts, rewards, treats, sp-nking, time-outs, praise and applause and jumping up and down.  We’d talked about it, cried about it, prayed about it.  And it just wasn’t working, and quite frankly I was weary.    I found myself  dreading every trip to church, dreading the check-in time when inevitably my son would morph from darling boy into “dangerous shark”, dreading the pick-up time when I would hear that he took off his shoe and threw it at someone (yes, that really happened), dreading the look on the teachers’ faces when they see him arrive. 

I felt like going to a therapy meeting and saying, “Hi, I’m Kari, and yes, my son is ‘that kid’.”

“Why this, Lord?  I’m busting my tail at parenting. I read all the books, try all the methods, pray pray pray.  I study the Word, I teach him Bible verses, I spend all day with him.   This is humiliating and I feel like everyone’s an expert on this except me. Why am I apparently the only one failing in this area?  I don’t want to be the mom of the bad kid!  How on earth can I be a women’s ministry leader and Bible teacher if my son clocks people in the head with his shoe?!!”

Then I remembered something a friend had said:

“It’s very humbling to have ‘that kid’, isn’t it?”  Oh boy is it ever.

The next night after the shoe-throwing incident we were doing our little family devotional time with the kids.  We were all snuggled in bed and my husband was reading from the Jesus Storybook Bible.  The story, which we’d a dozen times before, was of Naaman, the very important commander of the Syrian army, who was sick with leprosy, and sought the healing prayer of Elisa the prophet.  But instead of Elisha coming out to greet him and bowing down to Naaman in honor, Elisha doesn’t even come out of his house, but instead sends out his servant who tells Naaman to simply wash in the stinky, smelly Jordan river seven times.  Now Naaman was indignant, saying,

  “I thought that he would surely come out to me and stand and call upon the name of the LORD his God, and wave his hand over the place and cure the leper.  Are not Abana and Pharpar, the rivers of Damascus, better than all the waters of Israel? Could I not wash in them and be clean?”  (2 Kings 5:11-12)

Then he turns in a rage and storms off.

Do you hear the pride?  Naaman wanted God to heal Him using Naaman’s methods, methods that reinforced his own pride and met his expectations of what miraculous healing should look like.

Who finally speaks some reason into this prideful heart?  Interestingly, Naaman’s humble servants:

 “But [Naaman’s] servants came near and said to him, “My father, it is a great word the prophet has spoken to you; will you not do it?”

In other words, “God has given you a clear directive for your healing and restoration.  Are you really telling me you’re too proud to do it?”

Am I too proud to do it?

How many times had I prayed, “God heal me of my pride.  God sanctify me.  God grant me humility.  God grant me a teachable spirit.  God help me connect with the real needs of women around me. God help me grow in maturity and wisdom. God reveal areas that are sinful that need Your touch. God heal me of my selfishness, heal me of my insecurity, heal me of myself.”

He answered: Go wash in the Jordan.

Go wash in the murky, stinky waters of a toddler’s rebellion and embarrassing misbehavior.  Go wash in the murky water of trial and error, of charting unknown waters, of trying new things that oftentimes don’t work.  Go wash in the waters of humility, in the waters of asking others for help, in the waters of exhausting repetition and consistency.  Go wash in the waters of faith and not of sight.

“But Lord! I’d rather wash in the crystal clean waters of Bible Study.  I’d like to grow in my sanctification by…hmm…how about blogging? That’s a fun way to grow!  Or perhaps by really successful speaking engagements, that’s fun too. Or by really encouraging, deep, meaningful times in the Word each and every morning. That would be fabulous. Or perhaps I could even just read a few good books, underline a lot, and then have the whole thing down pat.  That’d be great. But these waters? The waters of the Jordan? These are stinky and smelly and humiliating.”

But these are the waters of life.  Finally, Naaman saw the error of his ways, and in verse 14 we read,

 “So he went down and dipped himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God, and his flesh was restored like the flesh of a little child, and he was clean.”

So I, like Naaman, finally surrendered to the stinky waters of struggle.

And I continue to wash in those waters in different ways.

When the word of criticism stings: Go wash. When you have “that kid”: Go wash. When the loneliness overwhelms you: Go wash. Whatever is stinky and smelly in your life may actually be the means of your salvation.

  Believing this with you today. Thanks so much for reading.

Finally, the week I had anticipated was here. Jeff was gone at a ministry conference, and though we miss him tremendously, the kids and I had a special week planned for us as well. We arrived mid-day at Riversong, my parents’ peaceful, riverfront, retreat-like home. The place is magical, not because it’s fancy but just because it’s silent save the rushing sound of the river, there is no cell phone reception, and my kids are content to play all day with Papa & Oma.

Read: Mama can rest. 

But this particular trip had a purpose: Finish the book. I sensed God giving me the green light to really press on for four days and pound out the last two chapters. It was exactly a year ago, during last year’s visit to Riversong during Jeff’s conference, that this book was born. The very first word was penned during this week in April of 2011. As we arrived my heart was full of prayer that the very last word would be penned this week of April 2012.  It was a tall order, but I knew God could do it.

The day we arrived was great. Writing went well, kids had a blast. And as evening came I enjoyed sweet snuggles with them in bed, lingering longer as I lay between them in their shared bed. My heart so full, turning my head from side to side, kissing them each, inhaling their sweetness. Precious kids. Then I sneaked back into my bed, thoroughly tired, anticipating a good night sleep so I could rise at 4am and pound out those words. I slide into bed so happy and nestle down into the blankets.

Oops. I realized I had forgotten to text someone about something. Now, no cell reception. I walked out to the driveway, try. No reception. So I call her from the landline and leave her a message. Slide back into bed…

Oops. I realize I had promised to text message two sweet ladies to help them get up early in the morning, in obedience to God. Now I can’t text them because I don’t have reception. Hmm… I open my computer to email them and let them know. No internet. My dad powered everything down. I finally get it on. Email them. Agree to call them from the landline in the morning instead. Ok, all settled. Slide back into bed.

Oops. “Mama, can we have water?” Kids are thirsty. I didn’t give them water before bed. Up again, go down, get them water. Back up, give sips. Goodnight. Back to bed.

Oops. They are getting squirrelly in their shared bed. Heidi’s complaining about Dutch’s feet. Go back in. Deal with it. Back to bed.

Oops. Dutch would like a snack. No. Absolutely not. Teeth are brushed, we’re in bed. Too late. Tears. Dutch is crying. So hungry. Are you kidding me? I slip back in bed and ignore his tears. Drift toward sleep.

Oops. Heidi is crying because Dutch is crying. She doesn’t know why, she’s just crying, “Mama I need something!” Except it sounds like “I need froggy!” She doesn’t even know what she needs.  I can’t let them win. They must sleep. I must sleep. 

It is now almost 2 hours since I first tucked them into bed. They are now asleep. I’m almost there.

In the middle of the night Heidi wakes 3 more times. The bed is too cold, it’s too dark. She needs water. Deal. Go to sleep.

Then I wake up. Cold. Can’t find more blankets. I feel like I’ve hardly slept at all. I look at the clock. 3am. I have to wake up in one more hour and I’ve hardly had more than a nap.

Heidi wakes up again, “Mama I need go peepee!” I take her. Settle back in.

Again she wakes, “Mama I need to peepee again.” For crying out loud! I tell her no, she just went. But she’s crying her scared cry when she’s frantic and really has to go. I ignore her a little longer, then Dutch comes in–Mr. Mature–and calmly says, “Mommy, I think Heidi really needs you.” Oh dear, my son is acting more mature than me. So I get her up. I’m frantic-tired. All I can think is how I have to sleep, I have to write a book the next day and I MUST SLEEP. I grab her hard out of bed, pull down her jammies without a word, sit her on the potty. I’m furious. I tuck her back in. She’s still sniffling from her sobs, then sucking her thumb back to sleep.

She doesn’t get up again.

But now guilt steals my sleep. As I lay there in the stillness, silence, the conviction is clear: You’re being controlling.

In the morning I repent. God’s grace washes over me. He is SO gracious. I open my Bible to my daily reading. It is God raising Dorcas from the dead. I sit, in awe, realizing God’s power. Then, my Bible study topic for the morning? God, Rab-Koach, Mighty in Power. You know what the study says? When we don’t understand God’s mighty power we begin to control. We try to control our circumstances. And when we’re controlling do you know what happens when people or events don’t go according to our plan?

We’re angry.

Oh friends, this isn’t theoretical. This wore skin for me that night. This spoke straight from heaven for me. I wanted sleep so bad. I wanted it my way so bad. I was so angry when circumstances did not do what I wanted. And, do you remember that every errant behavior is a result of errant belief?

I believed that my strength came from sleep, not from God. 

Sleep is great. But our ultimate source of strength is not sleep, it’s God. Circumstances can steal our sleep, but they cannot steal our strength. 

Control is a false god to which we bow when we have lost site of the immeasurable power of God.

Control is when we take things into our own hands and try to manipulate people and things for our purposes. And when we cannot, we’re ticked.

Have you ever been there? I hope not, but perhaps you have.  I was. Praise God for His immeasurable power that raises people from the dead, forgives us of sin, AND can even give sleep-deprived mamas strength for the day!

Be exalted, O LORD, in your strength! We will sing and praise your power.

Psalm 21:13

—

Praying you comprehend His power today and have the strength to give up control. Thanks for reading.