Seven Abominations?
I must say that I love this Going Deeper Bible study that we’re currently doing at WCC. We’ve been faithfully doing Beth Moore studies for years (and I adore Beth Moore!), but this Fall we were challenged to take things a step further and actually teach the women ourselves, encouraging women to dig deeper into Bible Study on their own. No more filling in blanks! Now women have homework each week, which is mostly just open-ended study questions so that they can discover nuggets of truth from God’s Word on their own.
One of things I love about this is that we have different speakers each week, and each speakers develops the homework for her week of teaching. So while there’s a constant theme and feel, for consistency, each week has a different flavor. All that to say that I’m right now doing my homework for this week’s lesson, which is on Communicating Love. The power of words!
This passage in Proverbs 15 hit me afresh today. This is a kick-your-teeth-in verse! Of course I’ve often studies the Eph. 4:29 verse, the Matthew 12 and Matthew 5, and even lots of Proverbs 15, which are all full of great stuff. But this time around, Proverbs 26 seemed new and challenging all over again:
Whoever hates disguises himself with his lips and harbors deceit in his heart; when he speaks graciously, believe him not, for there are seven abominations in his heart.” Prov. 26:24-25
Now I really am not a hateful person, and at the moment I can’t even think of anyone I hate or really dislike. For the most part I tend to like people. I had to laugh when Beth Moore shared said something about this because it is exactly how I feel, she said, “I really tend to like people, which is why it’s so hard when they don’t like me! It’s like, ‘What?! Why don’t you like me? I like you! Why can’t you just like me?”
But if I do feel hurt by someone, wronged by someone, or am just bent out of shape for some reason, what is my natural response? To fall on my face and ask God to change my heart and give me a pure heart of love? I wish. More often it is to mask my ugly feelings with my words. To double up on the outward niceness so that my ugliness doesn’t show. For example, today something bugged me that Jeff said and I responded, “Ok sweetie well if there’s anything else you’d like me to do to make things better for you just let me know.” Right this second I am laughing at myself because it’s obvious what a ridiculous statement that was. What I was really saying was, “For crying out loud I’ve bent over backwards trying to do things for you and I’m ticked that you have so much work to do and aren’t helping me right now. Can you puh-lease read my mind and see that I’m ticked and start being superDad which is what I want you to be right now.” But I covered up my angry heart with some seemingly gracious words. It was a pretty puny attempt at disguising myself. And isn’t it always?
I would venture to say that when we are ticked off, or jealous or bitter or angry, our attempts to disguise it with our words is usually a pretty sorry attempt. And what’s worse, Scripture says that we “harbor deceit” in our hearts. So now we’ve not only got hate (anger), now we’re double dipping into sin by harboring deceit as well! And as if double dipping weren’t enough, this passage says that when we take it a step further and attempt to cover all the mess up by speaking graciously, then there are not one, not two, not three, but SEVEN abominations in our heart. Somehow that math just doesn’t seem fair, but apparently it is because God said it. We hate, we deceive, then we try to cover it up, and in the end we’ve got a whole host of nasty sinful abominations in our heart.
And this passage is warning the poor recipients of all this junk, “Believe him not!” We’re called to be discerning, to not be tricked by this foolishness. The hatred is still there. Perhaps the greatest warning should be to us, though–to not be deceived by our own hearts, by our own words, to not fool ourselves into thinking that just because the words are right the heart is right as well. That perhaps sometimes our gracious speech is really an abomination–or seven abominations!
Anyway, how’s that for a fun little tidbit for your weekend? Nothing like abominations to cheer up a dreary afternoon. 🙂 No really, though– love how God’s Word uses strong words because the stuff we’re talking about is strong stuff: love, relationships, the glory of God. I pray that I, that we, would take this to heart, and keep the hatred–and abominations–out!
Learning from Dutch
Most of you probably know about our window scare. Dutch fell halfway out of his second story window (above concrete) on Sunday, pushed the screen out and fell halfway (waist up) when we heard him scream and Jeff ran upstairs and grabbed him before he fell all the way out. It was awful, horrific–I was hysterical, he was hysterical. All in all it was a very good wake up call for us–to cherish every moment with our son, not take things for granted, realize–with a healthy fear of God–that everything can be gone in the blink of an eye.
Perhaps that’s why I’m trying to savor a little more the moments with Dutch. You see, I have been struggling in the area of mommyhood when it comes to Dutch. He is a steel-willed child, and between our busy schedule, women’s ministry things, getting moved in, and just the stuff of life, I’ve had more than one moment where I’ve just felt like shaking his little self and saying, “Really?! Really, do you have to contradict everything I say? Does everything have to be a battle?!” And then of course the window-scare happened and though I still find myself having plenty wits-end moments (today at Bridgeport, where I had to carry both children in arms –Dutch throwing a fit over my shoulder and Heidi smashed in the front pack without making a peep– from the Container Store all the way to Bed Bath & Beyond), I can’t even imagine life without my boy. He makes my life. I kiss him a hundred times a day, on that soft part of his cheek right by his lips so I can smell his amazing little puppy breath. I still squeeze his buns everytime I pick him up (and think about how nice it will be when we’re down to only one in diapers!). I love having conversations with him, listening to his amazing creativity as he plays make-believe around the house. Here are a few of my favorite Dutch thoughts of late:
(When I put on a dress for church). “Mommy, what’s that you got on?”
“A dress, Dutch.”
“It’s pretty.”
(I smile) “Thank you, Dutch!”
“Mommy, you fancy!” (heart melting!)
Ok, this one’s not so sweet, just odd:
(As I’m changing his diaper) “I like Papa!” (I smile, so glad that my son loves my dad. Then he continues. “I like poop too!”
Unfortunately he continues to think that shouting “I eat poop for dinner!” then laughing hysterically and saying, “That’s SO funny!” is the greatest thing in the world. Oh dear. Apparently he’s hit middle-school early.
Tonight his prayers, as silly and immature as they might seem, touched my heart. As we lay in bed we started to pray and I asked him what he wanted to thank God for. “Umm…” he thought. He had his toy van in his hand. “Dada God, Kant Nu (thank you) for my van.” Ok, that’s a start, what else Dutch? He turns it over in his hand. “Dada God, kant nu for the front of my van.” Ok, what else Dutch? “Dada God, kant nu for the side of my van.” This continues… “kant nu for the back of my van…kant nu for the windshield…kant nu for the motor…kant nu for the bumper…” No joke. He names every part of the ridiculous plastic van.
I’m lying there thinking of the amazing life this little boy has, of the friendships, the family, the new house, the wonderful fun things we do every day, and all he can thank God for is every little detail of his silly plastic van that we got at a garage sale for 25 cents last week. In a way, though, it’s precious, because he’s choosing to thank God for what’s right in front of him. Perhaps it’s narrow-minded, perhaps it’s not good perspective, but if the point of thanksgiving is to focus in on the blessings GOd has given us, if the point is to cultivate an attention to the richness of life, if the point is to become thankful people–then perhaps naming every single part of silly plastic van in our hands is really a pretty good idea. It doesn’t mean I’m not thankful for the larger things, for the majestic mountains and vast oceans and the beauty of this valley and the glorious things God is doing in this world. It just means that maybe it’s ok for me to sit here and thank him for the ice cream I had tonight, the way Heidi laughed out loud as she played with a sippy cup of water for the first time, for the built-in bookshelves that my dad made us, for the way that the pink knobs on Heidi’s dresser turned out after I painted them, for sitting on our porch swing in the cool fall air, for the sweet gathering of women I was part of last night, for the unexpected escrow refund check we received, for the beautiful pots of flowers delivered unexpectedly from a generous friend, for Mac eyeliner, for the MIRACLE that Dutch put all of his toys away and took a bath and went to bed without a fight tonight … I really could go on forever.
Really that’s the same as Dutch thanking for the bumper on his plastic van. Very unremarkable, very temporal. And yet he’s thankful for it, and for that I’m thankful. And I’m thankful he’s alive, and I’m thankful for what he teaches me each day … even if it’s that I’m never taking him to the Container Store again. Goodnight, friends. Let’s go to bed thankful tonight.
I don't want to waste my life.
I know…it’s been a week since I’ve written anything here. I promise I am alive and well it has just been a CRAZY busy week, as you can well imagine. God is so funny and smart because He throws everything at us at once so we will get on our faces and cry out to Him. This post is not about that but let’s just say last week Monday drove to Portland and signed docs on our house at 7am, Jeff then went to work and I did our final walk through at 9am, Jeff worked a full day (our new Youth Pastor’s first day), then we got our keys (tada!!) and got to get into our new house at 4pm, then I finished packing, showered, got pizzas, delivered the kids to my parents, then got to church at 6pm and taught Bible study at 7 (during this time Jeff had the moving team moving us into the new house), got home at 8:30pm. The next morning got up at 6am, discovered none of my clothes had gotten moved and I didn’t have my apartment key, so I tore open boxes and found a winter sweater to pair with the pants I’d worn the night before, got to church at 8am for worship practice (Heidi in tow), played worship, taught Bible study at 9am, got home a little before noon just as Mom and Dad brought Dutch back home, and then began the weeklong unpacking.
Now, just to be sure this is clear–I am overwhelmed with how amazing our house is. I don’t want to say I love it because I’m being careful about how I use that word these days. But I ENJOY our house beyond measure. It is like God built it just for us (he did). It’s been fun unpacking things I haven’t seen for almost 2 1/2 years and finding that they match and fit in perfectly to this house. It’s also been a blast for Dutch unpacking books and toys he hasn’t seen for ages; it’s like Christmas! It’s also a HUGE blessing having a yard! My boy finally has a yard! And, the cool part is that it’s not landscaped so it’s just dirt/mud and straw, which means I can put him in his grubbies and boots and set him free to dig, build, drive his dump trucks, and just get filthy without worrying about messing anything up. My outdoor boy can finally be outdoors! So that’s wonderful. It’s been hectic because you forget that a new house needs about a thousand little things–dryer vent, fridge hose, WINDOW COVERINGS (yikes! sheets and tacks right now). And I feel like my unpacking is at a snail’s pace because I have these two wonderful little crazy munchkins who leave me with about 5 or 6 free minutes a day (ok, exaggeration–that’s how it feels). Anyway, it’s been a gloriously crazy week.
But by Friday, even though the week was filled with wonderful things, I was TIRED. The kind of tired that’s not just physical, but where I felt so completely emotionally and spiritually and physically SPENT. Everything seemed to take extra effort–the kids haven’t been sleeping all that well (back to the window coverings), and when I get that tired, my default isn’t to slow down, it is to just keep chugging forward…but without love.
And I found myself SO frustrated with Dutch. I tell you–that boy. That boy that boy that boy. I love him to pieces, I do. But do any other moms just have those days that they think (ok this sounds horrible), “I can’t stand this crazy kid! Will he EVER STOP TALKING? Will he EVER stop contradicting everything I say? Does EVERYTHING have to be a battle? How does he KNOW exactly how to do the thing I don’t want him to do?” I admitted to Jeff, “Ok this sounds horrible. But is it bad that I just wish our kids would sleep all day long, just for one day, so I could have some time to myself?”
So last night I get to church, and Joel preaches on 1 Corinthians 13:1-3, and even though I’d been reading that passage all week long for women’s Bible study, the way he taught it hit me so hard. Basically, we can be successful teachers, leading people, we have have stuff, we can be influential, we can be mighty for God, and yet if we don’t have LOVE, if it’s not from a heart of LOVE, if we don’t simply just have love, then it’s a WASTED LIFE. Ouch.
And this is what ouched me. I realized that I can train our children to be perfectly obedient, and never train them to love. I can train them to obey every time, and can still have WASTED every ounce of my parenting energy. I have to LOVE them. I have to train them to LOVE. And my tearful cry to God was basically how I get to tired because I feel like everyone (exaggeration again–describing feeligns here) draws from my love stores. My kids draw all day long, Jeff draws, people in ministry draw, I just feel like I have a million pinpricks in me where love is supposed to be flowing out all day long all the time and I just get so tired and EMPTY and so instead of giving love anymore I decide to just keep going forward but without giving true love. And that, is a WASTE. That will give me a wasted life.
And how arrogant of me to think that I am supposed to be the source of anyone’s love! And if I’m empty it’s no one’s fault but me because I am connected to the OCEAN of love, THE source of love and if I’m empty then it’s because I’m not drawing from the source! It’s no one’s fault but my own. Yes, there are many things that draw from my love stores, but what a privilege to be a sponge wrung out (to use Joel’s illustration) for God’s glory. Oh that we would be sponges wrung out! But my pride and stubborness insists on just wringing and wringing and wringing and then complaining that I’m being wrung out–somethings wrong. I need to turn on the faucet, sit at His feet, receive His love, and then allow Him to wring me out as He pleases.
I hear Dutch stirring, so although I don’t have a neat little way to tie up this post with a bow–I need to go love my son. 🙂 My son, who — and this is part of this week’s story — has already TWICE managed to smear poop all over the carpet and walls of his new room. 😉 What a perfect reminder that stuff is just stuff. So I’m off to love, by GOd’s grace. I pray we won’t waste our lives, but will love. If that’s all we do, let’s love.