That slippery slope
I can only imagine his horror, anguish, that sinking, sickening pit in his stomach as he realized what he’d done.
How on earth could this happen??
In the moment it all probably happened so fast, before he could think straight, the slope was slippery by then and he slid down. Afterwards, perhaps he thought back to the scene, he could still feel the fire’s heat on his hands, his face, the cold night air on his back …
… the same back turned to his Lord.
Behind him, not far away, Jesus was being beaten, accused, slapped and spit upon …
… while Peter swore a third time, “I told you, I don’t know him!”
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This story always haunts me, you know. If the great Apostle Peter denied Christ, who am I to think I never would? So this time, as I re-read through the gospels, I decided to follow Peter’s Progression. Falling away is never sudden, and apostasy isn’t immediate. Anytime we backslide it is because of a slow turning, gradual drifting, a a lulling to sleep, a subtle shift. So perhaps, I thought, if we look at Peter and how he denied the Lord, we can go backwards and see his progression which will help inform our own lives. Here’s what I found.
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Mind set on things of man (not taking every thought captive): Mark 8:33
Every action begins with a thought. In Mark 8, Peter takes Jesus aside to say that Jesus will not die on the cross. Jesus looks Peter in the eye and responds with the famous, “Get behind me, Satan!” Yikes! Peter’s statement provokes being called Satan?! Whoa! But apparently, Jesus saw this sin as severe enough for this harsh correction. Why? “You are setting your mind on the things of man, not the things of God.” It is of utmost importance that we understand the battlefield in our minds, and learn to take every thought captive and make it obey Jesus.
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Overconfidence in our own devotion (self-reliance): Mark 14:31
In Mark 14:31, when Jesus begins to expound on the hard road ahead, of his death, Peter boasts, “Even if I have to die with you, I will never deny you!” Oh, Peter. He was so sure of himself. He was so sure of his own devotion, and his boast smacks of self-reliance, rather than a humble acknowledgement that he was susceptible to sin. We can be the same way. We can see someone’s sin, something egregious perhaps, and say with disgust, “I would NEVER do that.” Well, yes I would. Yes I would. Even recently the Lord has shown me hard truths about how slippery is the slope to sin. The solution, of course, is not to live in fear or hopelessness, but to put our hope and trust in HIS keeping ability, not our own. The solution is to recognize that we MUST keep ourselves close to Christ, which leads us to Peter’s final step:
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Avoidance of suffering & distancing oneself from hardship for the sake of pursuing comfort: Mark 14:66-72
When Jesus is first arrested, Peter is there and ready to fight. Many of us are eager for drama, and perhaps even like the idea of battling for the name of Christ. But then, when Peter sees the path of Jesus marked by persecution, not by fighting, when he sees the way of Christ walked out in suffering, not in crusading, he slowly and silently slips away into the night. He stays near, but at a safe distance, warming himself by the fire, pursuing comfort instead of Christ. It’s hard to know exactly how it happened, but next thing he knows he’s being asked about Jesus, and next thing he knows he’s vehemently denied Him three times, as the rooster crows and he comes to the horrendous realization of what he’s done.
I am Peter. I am prone to these same things, and this progression helps me watch for the signs of the slow fade. Thankfully, Peter is restored. In fact, Peter’s response after falling, is what encourages me the most.
Peter’s response:
1. RUNS to see Him risen.
I love that the gospels tell us Peter (and John) RAN (John 20:4) to the tomb to see Jesus risen. I’d expect that of John, for John was the only one who stayed at the cross during Jesus’ death. But Peter?? I’d expect Peter to be hiding away, crippled with guilt and shame, unable to face Jesus at all. But no. Peter knows Jesus’ love enough to boldly RUN to the tomb. He can’t wait to come back home to Christ! And then,
2. THROWS himself into the sea.
Later, when Peter is out fishing, and Jesus appears on the shore (John 21:7), Peter THROWS HIMSELF into the sea, and swims to shore to see Jesus. I love this! Peter doesn’t care a wit about his fish, the boat, his clothes, how silly he looks, all he cares about is coming back home to Christ.
That’s repentance. Repentance isn’t sulking, hiding, ridden with guilt and shame. Repentance is the running home, the throwing ourselves headlong into the sea of His grace and love.
And He receives us. He builds a fire and makes us breakfast and says, “Do you love me?” and gives us an opportunity to set our affections back on Him and begin anew, better than ever, because we’ve learned from our past. Nothing’s wasted. His love is lavish, His grace sufficient. Even for Peters like me.
{Thanks for reading.}
Teaching kids to take initiative
When he showed up with our dinner, I could barely believe my eyes — this was a kid! What kind of kid does this??
Let me explain. My husband frequents a local coffee shop, and gets to know the baristas. He had often chatted with one in particular, a guy named Christian. Turns out one day Jeff had shared with him about a difficult season we were in. In response, (after asking Jeff’s permission), Christian took the initiative to coordinate—and personally deliver—dinners out to our house the following week.
Now, I was already floored that someone I had never met was willing to bring us meals (we live a long way out of town).
I was further floored that this person was a guy (sorry, but usually it’s the moms who think of things like meal-delivery!).
But I was completely floored when this guy showed up and looked barely old enough to drive.
He was 21. With a wide, bright smile, he was respectful and kind, talking at length with our kids, admiring our home, and hand-delivering a nutritious meal made by his mom. He was clearly a go-getter, working part-time while also going to school and pursuing his passion in a creative career while also serving in his church.
I soon discovered he was one of 7 brothers … all homeschooled.
Ah. As soon as he left, I looked at Jeff and said, “That’s why we homeschool. I want to raise kids like that.“
It’s remarkable to see young people who take initiative. That is, they don’t just follow the rules, do the least amount of work possible, wait for someone to offer them options, or live self-absorbed. They are proactive, looking for ways to grow, learn, excel, serve. They take responsibility.
They’re leaders. That’s what I want for my own kids, and probably you do too.
As parents, one of the critical transitions to help our kids make is from being merely responders (obeying our commands), to initiators (proactively seeking to do good). This had already been on my radar all year, and the interaction with Christian encouraged my efforts all the more.
So, here are 4 suggestions for teaching our kids to take initiative: {Read the rest over at Simple Homeschool…thanks!}
To do today: Win their hearts
This Mama has had a crazy busy few months, and Friday was my last speaking event for the season and the sun is out and I am READY to get low with my littles and catch bugs and dig holes and play games and I was reminded again of this — playing with our kids, winning their hearts, is of eternal importance. Hope this encourages you this week: What you do matters.
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I plunge my hands into the muddy water, winning his heart in this imaginary world of war.
“I just destroyed your aircraft carrier, Dutch. You’ll need a way better design next time.”
He looks up at me delighted, eyes dancing, sun sparkling in his blond hair. Soon, Heidi skips across the yard.
“Would you like to come to a party at my house?”
Her face is light, eyes full of anticipation. For a moment I marvel at her eager vulnerability. It is one thing to invite someone to your house for a party. That’s a risk. It is quite another to invite someone to an imaginary party.
Every time a child invites you into her imagination, she risks.
I see it most clearly in Dutch. We had settled down into Heidi’s playhouse, seated in miniature chairs sipping water-tea from plastic cups. Dutch grew quiet for a moment then looked me in the eye.
“I got a new job, down in LA.”
He says the short statement and waits for a response. It’s such a simple, mundane interaction–something most moms do every day. You play pretend, that’s what you do. But the enormity of it washes over me, as he waits for my response.
Will I take him seriously and play? Will I accept this invitation into his innermost world? In just one sentence a child may open up her heart and world to us. How do we respond?
“Oh? Down in LA? What are you doing there?”
A quick flash of joy comes across his face–and he continues in his deepest most serious voice. It’s a big job, overseeing all those aircraft carriers. Only two days off a year–Christmas and Easter. The pay is good though–$200/month.
We talk, like this, most of the afternoon. Heidi explains how her friend “lost her medical” and had to have her legs amputated. Then she had to go to DHS. (Having had Julie in our life informs their imagination in humorous ways sometimes.) Later, Dutch is a WWII veteran. He tells me detailed stories of his heroic escapades, explains the intricacies of the war when I dig for more information.
And I have to chuckle to myself, Too bad we didn’t do school today. I could almost see their little minds blossoming, opening, like little buds of creativity, connecting and exploring and risking and learning. And what an honor–a privilege–to be allowed into their innermost world of imagination.
Before Dutch was born, my sister-in-law threw me a baby shower. Each woman wrote one piece of advice on a little card. My pastor’s wife, a wise woman I’ve known 30 years, wrote:
“Win your child’s heart.”
She explained,
“Win his heart, so he will never want to disappoint you. Love is a better motivator than guilt. A desire to please you will carry him through more temptation and struggle than all the rules and right answers in the world. Win his heart early on.”
There are many ways to do this. I haven’t mastered them. But entering our children’s imaginary worlds–with enthusiasm–is one of the most powerful ways to pursue their hearts when they are young.
Few invitations are more sacred than the invitation to enter the imaginary world of a little soul.
When we enter in, we win.
Go play.
{Have a wonderful week. Thanks for reading.}
When stuff comes up …
I did some digging this weekend. I wish I could say it was the kind in the garden, the fun and recreational kind where you sink your hands into some soil and get those good seeds planted, full of hope, in eager anticipation of salsas and salads come late July. I’ll get to that too, Lord willing, as faithful May is finally bringing us the sun. (Hooray!)
But this weekend I did the inward kind of digging. The soul-searching, heart-rending, truth-seeking kind of digging, the kind you have to do when stuff comes up.
I was speaking at a retreat, on my beloved topic of Flourish. This has been my longest running retreat—for five years straight I’ve been teaching this material, and I finally rewrote my notes because they were so worn and marked up with margin scribbles and underlines and highlights that I could barely read what they said. Plus, I needed the process of re-writing them, to let the good work go deep into my own heart once again. The result will be, Lord willing, an ebook. I’d love to give you an expanded version of these materials in an ebook form so you could go through the process on your own. Pray for me, that I can carve away time to make this happen?
So, sometimes stuff comes up. When you’re gardening, hopefully you have some tender shoots pop up—your zucchini and sugar peas and the feathery tops of carrots. But usually, you get some other stuff too. Yes? Some weeds. And it’s true in our spiritual life too, some weeds come up, the bad stuff, the stuff we don’t want around, and it can be disheartening. But let me tell you what’s more disheartening, when something comes up, and you take it to the Lord, and He responds with …
“It’s deeper than you think.”
Awesome. The physical version of this is when you go to pluck out a weed and discover it’s anchored down so deep you can’t even dislodge it. You tug and tug and all you end up doing is maybe tearing off a few of the leaves, just surface stuff, and the nasty root system is still completely in tact.
*sigh*
So what do we do? What do we do when staring down a gargantuan weed we can’t quickly yank out?
We dig it out. And it can be disheartening but we’ll do it if we care enough about the state of our souls, about the purity of our lives, about the quality of our worship. If we care enough about Christ. See, certainly we can get entirely too caught up self-tinkering and miss out on the bigger picture of loving and serving the world. We can get so self-absorbed that we miss out on the mission of God. Let’s not do that. But it is equally important that we don’t get so caught up in the mission, the ministry, the going and doing and serving and giving, that we neglect the health of our hearts.
Last week at church, when we prayed over our worship time, I saw a picture of a red heart, and God was cutting off the dirty, darkened, slimy edges.
Sometimes God needs to cut off the corrupted parts, so our worship can be pure again, so our hearts can be clean, so our minds can be made-over entirely for Him.
Let’s not neglect that part.
Because it is SO easy to throw ourselves headlong into outward things without addressing the dark places. Our first ministry is to the Lord. Only as our worship is sanctified, made holy, made pure, will our ministry, our outpouring be that as well.
Of course I would never want to discourage someone from loving the poor, loving the church, loving evangelism or giving or serving or mission. But these must always and only be an overflow of our first love: Him. He is our first love. Our first mission. Our first ministry.
We’re only fit for outward ministry, as God does a deep inward ministry in our hearts. Paul said it like this:
A large house contains not only vessels of gold and silver, but also of wood and clay. Some indeed are for honorable use, but others are for common use. So if anyone cleanses himself of what is unfit, he will be a vessel for honor: sanctified, useful to the Master, and prepared for every good work. (2 Tim. 2:20-21)
With all that is in me, I want to be useful to the Master. I think you probably do too.
And so, when something comes up, that weed that won’t budge, we dig down deep into the truth and love of God, and ask Him to uproot anything that doesn’t please Him. What belief, attitude, habit, mindset, desire, thought-pattern … what seed has taken root and slowly grown, unseen, until it suddenly surprises you and rears its ugly head. Yes, it can feel discouraging to see it, but take heart, friend, the good news is: God’s allowed it to grow up past the surface, to be seen, so that He can root it out forever. You’re not alone in the process. He’s guiding and providing. He’s pulling for us, and it’s worth the effort to dig. The heart that’s free will flourish.
{For whatever digging you must do this week…it’s worth it. Happy May Day & thanks for reading.}