The Trouble with Blessin' Gettin'

Just recently one of my social media pages was clogged with a series of  “Blessin’ Gettin’” prophetic quotes and videos. It seemed that all I had to do was to click on the short video, watch it, then add a comment to the growing page - to be sure to receive my own portion of the excessively abundant blessing lined up to flow from the very throne of God to only those in humanhood fortunate enough to click “like”. To not click “like” and leave a comment implied that I would in fact NOT appreciate a blessing from the Lord...and that’s where things started to get awkward. As I scanned through several of the posted comments, my heart seemed to be torn in a two places. On the one hand, there are a lot of people out there who genuinely need some type of divine intervention in their lives - calls for new jobs, healing and restoration, and strangely, a resounding notion that, “It’s about TIME I received MY Blessing!!” I couldn’t help but feel desperate to point out, that these good Christians, are solidly missing the point.

Or are they? Have we not been taught that God loves us, and he shows us that love by showering blessings down upon us? If God is okay with what we’re doing, we might get the benefit of good health, food on the table and a nice family. But, if God is really happy with us, he’s going to bless us (because I’m going to keep telling him to) with piles of money, the perfect job, the perfect spouse, an exhilaratingly happy marriage and (when we’re extra special) a position of power and authority and our own personal following of devout people seeking our unending spiritual wisdom. Because of course, those are the things that would make us happy. Therefore, those things are blessings - because we exist for God to make us happy. Right?

Wrong. I can no longer understand the attitude toward God that reduces him to a mere genie. Is that really what we want? Imagine if my relationship with my husband echoed how I’ve treated God in the past. I would meet him at the door with my hands out, wondering what he’s brought me after work. When he only brought me one rose, instead of an entire bouquet, I would pout until dinner time, feeling deeply hurt and disappointed by him. When he finally put dinner on the table, I would wait expectantly for an after dinner surprise, and instead when Brad would ask for help with the dishes, I would pout extra hard, and throw the plates into the dishwasher. After dinner would likely not be any fun, as Brad might choose to play online games with his brother. This of course would lead me to growl, snap and cry until my eyes were swollen slits, after all - why wouldn’t he want to focus his attention all on me? At bedtime I would give him an earful about how he needs to think about his treatment of me. Of course, we wouldn’t go to bed angry - he would apologize.

I highly doubt our marriage would last very long. Enough. Really, enough. Stop and take a look in the mirror. What are we doing? The God of the Universe, wants to walk in an intimate relationship with each one of us, he sent his only son to die so we could be cleaned of our own sin, and how do we respond? We demand that God finally bless us, for all of the good we’ve done for him.

I can’t do it any more. My heart breaks, and cries out. It leaves me no where but feeling lost and deeply alone. The churning, growing desire for a relationship with God can no longer be satisfied by a relationship where my hands are held out asking for God to bless me. The turn has come, and I choose to walk in an intimate relationship with my Father. It’s terrifying - the control freak in me is rocking back and forth nervously, repetitively, but it’s time to trust. To put each circumstance of my life in the hands of my Father, and trust that he holds the outcome in his hand. To hear his voice say, come walk with me, and from there to follow.

Religious Disallusionment and the Rise in Snake Oil Sales

Lately I’ve found myself to be on a faith journey. It’s not one I started deliberately, and from where I stand now, it’s more than a little uncomfortable. I feel like I’ve climbed about halfway up a cliff face, and knowing what I know now, I can’t go back down, but pushing ahead looks like it’s going to be a challenging climb.

I grew up in an Evangelical Christian environment, with roots in the Word Faith movement. Because that was my whole world, it came as quite a shock to my parents, when I told them I wanted to date a CRC boy. Yes, we were both Christians, and yes, we both loved Jesus, but because of his lack of Evangelicalism I was somewhat concerned for his mortal soul. He married me anyway. These feelings lingered for several years into our marriage, and though my dear husband loved me, he never fully accepted my blatant evangelicalism. As wives do, I prayed fervently to God, asking him to please fix my husband, and I think that was when I had the first turning point that put my feet on a different path. God spoke to me. He said, “I don’t need to fix him, I made him that way.”

That was a kick in the gut for me. So, after all, God even loved people from the CRC tradition.  He wasn’t nervous about their non-charismatic theology, old songs, Apostles Creed, or long pre-written prayers. In fact, he loved their heart-felt worship, kind hugs and handshakes, and sermons. He appreciated their twice-a-Sunday services, and energetic kids Bible camps, and maybe - just maybe, I was on the wrong side of this one.

The idea that my Evangelical friends and I were just a cut above all the other Christians was an idea that didn’t want to vacate easily.  (After all - the Evangelicals are getting in to Heaven first) Then my Christian world imploded. I experienced a situation in which people who I admired and looked up to were angry, malicious, dishonest and cruel - all in the name of Jesus. Maybe that shouldn’t have been a surprise, but it was. I had bought into it all, the theologies like - God blesses those who bless themselves, God gives bigger and better to those who give bigger and better, good things will happen when you have enough faith, and other assorted beliefs. Leaving my relationship with God somewhat one sided, and scattered in pieces on the floor. 

In an effort to pick up the pieces and put them back together I’ve found myself breaking even more with certain Evangelical perspectives. So much so, that if I was asked to identify with a specific Christian background for myself - I don’t think that I could. I can no longer stomach the money driven Evangelical doomsday prophets who are touting fear and Trump at every opportunity, who are twisting the truth of the Bible and fully wearing an ALL-ABOUT-ME Christianity, just so they can say to those foolish enough to not want this brand of Christianity -  I told you so. People who are somehow okay with church members hiding in pornography on Saturday night, and then cursing out a Gay family on their way in to worship Sunday morning. Who think that love and forgiveness should only come on their terms, and to people who think exactly like they do.

I can no longer stop the questions that are bubbling up from my soul that demand an answer. How do we welcome Muslim refugees? What is our responsibility to people of other faiths? How do I get rid of my own racism and fear of the future? How do we get beyond irresponsible Christian platitudes like “love the sinner, hate the sin”? How do I actively LOVE my LGBTQ brothers and sisters like Jesus would? What will make my own faith relevant to my children? Will they see my faith centralized in the person of Jesus Christ - his life, death, burial and resurrection? How do I love the people who want to hate? How do I respond to people with love, even when they think differently from me?

I asked God these same questions. He answered me. Matthew 7:7 - Ask and it will be given to you. Seek and you will; find. Knock and the door will be open to you.

I never thought about the measure of faith it takes to knock on a door - yet, we practice it every day. Once you knock, there is always a period of waiting and trusting that the door will be opened. I also never thought about God’s invitation to ASK and SEEK. For a very long time, I’ve let good religious people tell me what to think and how to think it. It’s time I started to think on my own. God isn’t worried when I read Matt Walsh’s blog, nor does he get concerned when I read John Pavlovitz blog, he isn’t threatened when I question the messages that I hear, and it doesn’t even bother him when I don’t agree with my Pastor. He wants me to ask and seek for him, and I know that I am not able to wander too far from my good Shepherd’s side.

The Power of Disagreement

People disagree about things. Actually, that's an understatement, people disagree about everything, mundane - is the dress blue or white? major - politics, religion and everything in between, but since when does coming across someone who disagrees with me, rather doesn't agree with me exclusively mean that they must then hate me? Hater.

Whoa - wait a minute, isn't that a leap? Just when exactly did it become OK to hate someone who disagreed with me? But, I've been feeling it lately. Politics for example, if you voted Conservative, you need your head examined, if you voted Liberal you want the country to implode, and if you voted NDP well, that was just a poll throwaway, vote waster. Are we really justified in believing the worst about one another, and speaking horrible things to one another, because we come from differing points of view?

Speaking as a Christian - lately we've been no better than anyone else, and in fact, we've been more judgmental, hypocritical, and antagonistic than usual. After all, wasn't it Jesus who said, Love your Neighbor, but when it turns out that he's gay, and voted for the Liberal party, well, then you're off the hook. Throw as much vitriol as you can find in his general direction, but make sure you do it anonymously and always be sure to tell him, that "we hate the sin, not the sinner." (What does that mean, anyway?) Meanwhile make sure you're in church every Sunday, to tick that box on your "Good Christian List." Everyone there knows how holy you are, and so you're covered.

I just can't accept that. One thing I have realized, is that I have to work on the very give and take that allows us to be the unique people that God created. Do I have the right to say what I think? Absolutely - I've learned it is important to say what I think, and to be confident in it. But, to love other people, it is more important for me to listen to what they have to say - and try to see things from their point of view. I can tell you right now, there will always be something that I won't be able to align myself with - for example, I will never understand what it is like to be gay. I have no frame of reference for it in any experiences that I have had. My life hasn't been like someone's who is gay, I haven't had to deal with what they have had to deal with, things that I imagine can be very hurtful and isolating - therefore I have no platform to make any kind of judgement.  Instead of saying to someone who you disagree with, I disagree with you, maybe what you're saying is - I don't understand your point of view - and I may never understand. But, you aren't stupid, and what you're going through is valid. When we are confident in ourselves, in God's love for us, and his command that we love others, the thing is - we don't need to understand. 

What is it we all want anyway? A whole bunch of people who just agree with everything we say all the time? Are we so threatened by someone who 'disagrees' that we have to automatically put them in the "evil" camp? Claim they hate us because they just don't agree. Let me tell you, I would take an authentic friend, who I know cares about me in spite of the fact that we have significant differences - even of opinion. If everyone agreed all the time, not only would life crawl dangerously toward the precipice of boredom,  just maintaining a friendship would require polite conversation to end itself promptly after the weather was discussed. If this is the case, we won't be able to maintain authentic friendships or even romantic relationships.  I love my husband, he is both my best friend and sparring partner.

I think people on opposite sides get so wrapped up in what is "right" and what is "wrong" that we have to convince the other party of how right we are.  We throw around ideas and judgements that we believe come from God, all the while forgetting about what is really important, and that is, our relationship with God. When it comes down to it, in the end, it is only me who will have to stand before God - and I know that he will be able to clearly see the ugly, dark places of my heart that are easy for me to hide when the world looks at me. Those things that Christ covered on the cross for me.

When I realize that, I realize that Christ has set me free. So, disagree with me. I may never be able to fully understand where you're coming from, but I will love you instead.

Outside the Lines

 
I have never met anyone who is Transgender before. So, maybe I don't get out much, or maybe it's just that I...well, mostly don't get out much, but, a couple weekends ago our neighborhood church (not the one we attend, but one who has, notably, on more than one occasion taken the time to show that they care for our community) was having a multi-family garage sale.  They invited members of the community to purchase tables, and brought several people into the church who perhaps wouldn't have thought to attend otherwise.  Being that the garage sale was just at the end of our street, and really - who can turn down a good garage sale, we brought the kids for a  look around. 

One table caught their attention immediately. It was laden with light-sabres, star wars action figures and various other interesting toys and games. Now, having our "parenting" hats on, we looked at this as an opportunity to teach the kids a bit of fiscal responsibility. They had each been given some "pennies" and could make choices about what they might like to buy. This was when I noticed that the young lady at the table was transgender. Micah immediately reached for a light sabre (he had one at home, but a battle of light sabre's isn't a battle unless there is another light sabre). He asked the lady how much it was, and she told him, $5. He had only been given $3. Quietly Brad and I worked to explain to him that it was more money than he had. Immediately, even in understanding what Brad and I were trying to do, she asked Micah if he would take really good care of the light sabre. He assured her that he would, and she gave it to him for his $3. 

I really appreciated what she did for Micah. After all, her Star Wars collection was extensive, and in pristine condition. She was obviously a collector, and could have demanded a price too high for a little boy to pay.  (Brad and I made sure that she got the extra $2) But, as Olivia started to touch and look at all of the different figurines laid out in front of her, this lady didn't flinch or cringe or demand that I pull my four-year-old's hands off of her collection, instead she started to talk to me. Through our conversation I noticed that some interesting things that didn't happen.

She didn't ask if I was a Christian, or what I thought about Bruce Jenner.  She didn't explain her surgeries or how they worked to me, nor did she demand any kind of recognition or respect. She didn't flaunt her lifestyle or push it in my face, she just talked. I learned very quickly that she is an avid, and passionate collector. That she knows more about Star Wars figurines than most people would understand in a lifetime, and that what she really wanted from this garage sale was the opportunity to connect with people, share some of her things that were very special to her, and send them to good homes. It was a nice conversation, and it made me realize a few things.

One of the best parts of my job is that I get to connect with students on a daily basis. But something I am learning, is that in each of my interactions there is a balance for these students between, a level-headed confidence about their new direction in life - Teaching. Yet, at the same time, even though they are University Students who have completed a first degree, I have found that they all want to be told, "You are important, you are doing a good job. Don't worry about your mistakes, keep pressing on.  Everything is going to be ok." It was the same with this young lady from the garage sale. She wanted to know that she was important, and valued, and that the things she had to say were important and legitimate. It struck me that the things that this lady deals with every day by appearing so "different", were probably more heartbreaking than I could imagine. I don't know what it's like to feel like I don't fit in. I've always fit somewhere - and isn't it what we all want? To fit? To be loved and accepted as we are? As much as society purports to be welcoming to ALL people, we know that it is not. How can we expect to impact someone's life in a positive way, if we don't care about who they are, and take a risk to love them?

I think that in this one life, I want to be the kind of Christian, the kind of person who can look at people from all races, religions, places in life and truly love them. Because even in the darkness and depth of my own sin, Christ loved me. In the words of someone a lot smarter than me - Amazing grace! How sweet the sound, That saved a wretch like me!I once was lost, but now am found. Was blind, but now I see. 'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, and grace my fears relieved. How precious did that grace appear, the hour I first believed.

 

Working Girls

If you live in a home with small children, you've probably had "the talk". You know the one, the one where you and your husband lean against the kitchen counters, arms crossed, each thinking as the dishwasher hums and swishes away in the background.  From your vantage point you take in the landscape which typically includes, a sticky but unidentifiable substance dripping from the table, a basket with laundry - clean, dirty, folded, unfolded, scattered toys, overturned shoes, various colors of playdoh and my favorite, those tiny landmines also known as dry cheerios hiding on the floor, just waiting for an unsuspecting someone to crush them into a powder.

"We could use the money."
"Daycare costs a fortune."
"I would love to have a conversation during the day that doesn't center around body functions."
"Who do we really want to raise OUR kids?" 
"The job can't just be any job, it would have to be worth it." 
"Can someone else love our kids like we do?"

So many words and emotions are wrapped up in this one thing, but five months ago, this is where I found myself. Going back to work. Of course, for those of you, my dear friends, who are stay-at-home Moms, you know as well as I do, that it isn't really going back to working, but more like transferring from one job to another. The truth is, the transfer happens with a significant deficit. 

Kids still need love, attention and care
The laundry still needs to be done
Groceries need to be bought
Food Prepared
Bathrooms Cleaned
Kids are tired because of the rigorous schedule
Mom feels like she took on a second job.

There are times where I see my world spinning crazy around me, chores piling up, demands from all sides, and I start to believe that I will never catch up with all of this...when I am interrupted by that always clear, somewhat condescending voice that says - You CHOSE this. At times this little voice is linked to a significant stab of something like guilt, because did I choose working over my kids? And then comes just a bit of agony - because there is a part of me that is heartbroken every day I see my kids pull away from the house with their Daddy on their way to share their precious day with someone else. I don't think that ever goes away.

But, I have started to learn that God hard-wired me in a really different way. I don't know if it's socially appropriate to admit it or not, but this Mama also loves going to work. I love interacting with teachers, and university students, and profs - I feel like this is the job I always wanted, I just never knew it. I don't feel like I am battling against some strong instinct that tells me I did the wrong thing, instead I think that I am coming to terms with some things about myself - beyond the excuse that, I HAD to go to work. Instead, God has created in me a love and passion for my children, a desire to build solid relationships with them as they grow in their faith and lives, but he has also given me a strong desire to work with students and my colleagues, toward a future. 

I guess that is where balance comes in. The time I get with my children has to be richer and purposeful.  Around the Education department, we talk about intentionality all the time, and that has changed the way I think about my kids. Being intentional in my interactions with them, no matter how exhausted I am, is what matters. I think that no matter if God made you to be a stay-at-home super Mom, or if he put the desire in you be the worker super Mom, it is the intentional interactions with our children that matter. Guilt, then, doesn't fit into the equation and we women, who love with our whole being, can walk in God's purposes for us, our families, our children.
 

That thing I don't want you to know about Me.

Just the other day, I realized that I had passed a significant anniversary for me. It's not one of those anniversary's you really celebrate, like a birthday, but instead one you pass in a kind of reflective contemplation.  For me, it was both happy and sad, happy that things are now the way they are...but sad because I spent so many years screaming.

It was how I knew to cope. I am not just talking about shouting either - that's different. I'm talking about an emotionally debilitating state in which I thought I could scream out the rage that was eating my insides.  The problem - I was screaming at the people I love most in this whole world, my family. My husband. My kids. It was cyclical for me. It would start out with me wanting to be happy, and show that I was happy and so it sent me to seek approval from my husband and kids. In all my "trying" to get approval, I started to find that no matter what my husband or kids did, it didn't fill that hole, and so I would get angry and blame them for all the things I felt that they were doing "wrong". The feelings would build, the emotion would build, and soon I would be at a bursting point, and inevitably I would burst, and scream and scream and scream. This cycle started out to at maybe once or twice a year I would lose it at this level, but as time and my marriage and all the pressures of that progressed, I found the episodes would come more quickly. Every six months, three months, six weeks, two weeks, until I thought one day that I would just be choked up in a screaming rage for the rest of my life. I was both aggressor and victim, I was becoming an abusive mother and wife.

Fortunately, it was about that time I contacted a counselor in order for her to fix everything that was clearly wrong with my husband. I wanted to be validated in my behavior, coddled and told "you poor dear." Thank God, that wasn't the counsel I got. Instead in one session, she said to me, "The screaming stops today." Of course, any sane person would agree, and so I did, but I can remember thinking...but how? and how will I be able to communicate with him (my husband)? Of course my counselor and I talked strategy, and I started to apply those things.  It was work, at first, to remember to stop and think to myself what is this really about? how do I get through to him without screaming? how do I love myself? But, slowly it became a part of my daily routines, and slowly that festering rage began to die away.

One year. I haven't screamed at them in one whole year.  I'm not saying I've achieved perfection, there's always something I'm working on. I'm just saying I haven't screamed in a year, and the cool thing is, I haven't felt that burning, simmering rage for so long, I have to think about it to remember what it was like.

Birthdays and weddings and graduation and new jobs are all important to mark and celebrate.  But so are these little victories too, the ones that change the part of your life no one knows about.

Return to Me

It's complicated.

In the past 30 years or so, I failed to develop much in the way of self worth. I learned how to fake it, a smile and a happy heart.  But secretly I believed that I only had what I had because I'd managed to trick people into thinking that I would be a good wife, good mother and good employee - and if I was good enough, I would be able to hold it together. This is the story of how it all fell apart.

In June of 2013 I walked away from my teaching job utterly broken. I felt like I had lost everything. I lost teaching at a school I loved because people who I trusted, who told me they loved my Jesus, lied and summarily brought down not only my little world, but everything I felt I knew about myself. I felt like if I wasn't a popular teacher, admired by my students, in my safe little school, then who was I? I felt worthless, a burden on everyone around me, and I was scared. It was like I could sense crisis looming, like watching a dam bulge right before it bursts, and trying to plug my fingers and toes into the leaks to hold it together.

In my haste to put off living without a job, I grabbed onto the first easy solution that came my way - and though I was blessed yet again in meeting good people, I felt like I was suffocating in my own insufficiency. When that job ended harshly and abruptly, and I was rejected for a job that I thought was perfect for me, it seemed to confirm every insecurity I had about myself.  See, this is exactly what you deserve, you heard what they said - they called you ineffective, worthless, insignificant, unimportant, talentless, unlucky, and lost.

And the question that haunted me: If you aren't a teacher then who are you? 

Nothing.
Nobody.
Not Good Enough.
 
I believed it all, and I was so angry. The anger started to spill over into my marriage, my family, and I didn't know how to stop it. I was jealous when people told me that they'd been blessed, and I demanded to know why God loved them more than me. I cried, and raged, and felt sorry for myself - and when I realized that wasn't working, I decided to see if there was any stock in this relationship with God. I had to come from a place where I actually prayed, God - you get me the interview and I will do the rest, to a place of complete reliance on him. I thought that if I didn't bother God too much, we could stay a respectful distance away from each other, and I wouldn't have to be hurt if he didn't hold up his end of our relationship. 

The problem was, I had to make a heart change, and from here I can say - not only has it been slow, it's ongoing.

In October 2013 I had a breakthrough. I was sitting on the couch watching a Bible study on TV with Beth Moore, and felt God's presence so strongly. I had the impression that he was sitting there with me. Beth Moore was speaking and said - You think you are waiting on God, when in reality what you are waiting for is an event. Those words struck me like someone physically knocked the air out of me. It was true. I was sitting around begging God for a new job because THAT was what would fix all of my anger, resentment and feelings of worthlessness. I wanted to put a bandage on a broken arm.  That realization was exhilarating, I was finally ready to do the work I needed to do, on myself, and I could finally see my "current season of unemployment" as an opportunity to do just that. I started having a counseling session once a week and changing the way I did life.

As a person, I DID have worth.
Confronting pain in the past moves you forward in the future.
I could rest in the love of God, because I was valuable to him.
I hadn't irrevocably screwed up my kids or husband - there was still time.

I don't have it all figured out, I still experience anxiety and the temptation to go back to where I was, to revisit who I was, but God changed things for me. I could rest in him, I could Trust in the Lord with all of (my) heart, and lean not on (my) own understanding, in all (my) ways acknowledge him, and he would direct (my) paths. Proverbs 3:5-6 I think that the little victories come day by day, as I realize that this walk is about Christ, and not about me.  I can revel in his love for me, and share his love with others.

God heard me. He gave us our beautiful daughter S, and just when I wasn't expecting it - he answered my prayers.  God provided me with the right job at the right time.  He fulfilled the desire of my heart to work at Kings, and I know that I can rely on him in all things. He does have a good plan.



So, as someone wise once said, sometimes things fall apart so that better things can fall together, under the care of a God who loves so much.