Listen and Heal – 2023 Word of the Year

My word of the year is better described as, I guess, words of the year. Although they will have to work in conjunction.

I was reading through the Gospel of Matthew recently and the adjoining commentary mentioned that most of Jesus’ ministry involved two concepts: listening and healing.

He listened to the concerns of the wedding feast hosts at Cana. He healed the situation.

He listened to the woman at the well. He healed her shame.

He listened to the paralytics, the lepers, and the blind. He healed their physical needs.

He listened to the questions from the religious leaders. He healed their misunderstandings.

He listened to the cries of the children of Israel, begging for a savior. He healed their spirits.

Listening and healing – they are such simple concepts. But to execute them well, one practically has to be God. To listen seems easy, but I find I mostly only sort of listen. I listen for my opportunity to insert my opinion or thoughts. I listen half-heartedly, especially to my children’s interests, which are often of no interest to their frazzled mother (here’s looking at you, Minecraft and Ninja Kids). I listen, but I’m distracted by my own anxieties that I lose the point.

Lord, help me to listen like You do.

Healing is trickier. I have no power within myself to heal. I have Holy Spirit, in Whom all things are possible though. The Spirit heals; He speaks healing words and works miracles. My job, then, is to give Him room. I must open my mouth and speak what He says. I must look for opportunities to solve problems and be a peace-maker. I must obey His leading. I must work to make my presence one that heals, not hurts.

Lord, help me to heal like you do.

My goal this year is to focus on listening and healing. I know I will not do it perfectly, but I will try. A little more like Jesus, a little less like the old person.

Expectancy, Grief, and the God of Wonders: A Reflection on 2022

Some of you, dear Readers, may know that I am among those who choose a word or phrase as a yearly focus. Gentler than a New Year’s resolution, the word usually chooses me, revealing itself as a repetitive sound as I begin to pray and meditate on the changing year. For 2022, my word was “expectancy,” and it was complemented by scriptures about expecting great and miraculous moves of God. I felt the hope and optimism of that word. I expected God to move this year.

What I did not expect was the loss of loved ones that I would experience: great, expansive loss. Now, please understand I sit here, not as one who lost an immediate family member like a child or spouse. My experience of grief this year is auxiliary in comparison. But the quantity and tragedy of these losses has been profound.

We lost a friend who was more like a sister. She died after struggling for five weeks with a pregnancy complication, leaving behind her firstborn and husband. She was, quite possibly, the most Christ-like person I’ve ever known, and the soul of our little church community. We lost a man who dedicated his life to serving the poor and unhoused in a local city, who ran a ministry that served thousands. We lost a man who was a gifted musician, a loved teacher, and gentle friend. We lost a woman who was the kindest mother and grandmother, whose presence and demeanor made you feel at ease. We lost a young man whose story paralleled my husband’s in so many ways, who had just gotten his life back on track and was trying so hard to live right.

Any death is hard. But these, God? Why these ones? The least likely? The most needed here on earth? The ones who tried so much to be like You? Why take them from us?

What did you expect?

I have a little glass frame with a hand-me-down fabric background hanging in my bathroom. There I write my word every year as a daily reminder. This year, around halfway through, my daughter (who wants to clean everything) cleaned the words right off it. And I left it that way. I stared at the blank glass. I was defeated. I was disappointed. I had lost my hope of expectancy.

What did you expect?

I lived in my grief. I questioned God’s judgment. I detached emotionally. I focused on the work, the task at hand. I stopped expecting, anything really.

My Jesus said that in this world we would have trouble, but to take heart; He has overcome the world. That’s John 16:33.

What did you expect?

I was expecting bright, shiny victory dances and joyful hallelujahs. I was not expecting, as the song goes, cold and broken ones.

I failed to see that He was moving, He was present, He was overcoming. In His grace, he gave my dear Courtney five weeks with her newborn son, five weeks to see all her family and friends, five weeks to witness and testify to the hospital staff who heard her sing and rejoice. In His grace, He created a legacy of service to the poor in Kenny’s memory, a whole network of people who share his vision. Each life was a seed now planted and producing. In His grace, He taught us to love well, laugh hard, and live fully through each life we grieve.

This is the year the Lord taught me expectancy. He taught me to see the pockets of grace in times of darkness. He taught me to look for the ways He has overcome even the most difficult trouble we can imagine. He has taught me to see Him in a shimmering light or a bird song or a deep breath, a million ways He carries us through the fallen world.

I can see now what to expect. I expect Him to show up on the doorstep of our grief with flowers and a casserole. I expect Him to sit with us in our pain and listen to our questions. I expect God to move in hearts, not just our circumstances. I expect, when we feel the things we love pulled away, He will give us Himself. And that is all we truly need.

Easy

I wish I had an easy smile,

One that alights on eyes

Like a swallowtail,

Flitters, moves on,

Leaves everyone following.

I wish I had easy conversation,

Natural, graceful, light

As the June dawn,

Making pleasant pleasantries

Out of the stale air.

I wish I had an easy laugh,

Clear and earnest,

Like streams down a mountain,

Drawing life from the deep

To partake and refresh.

I wish I had an easy heart,

Warm and welcoming

As a friend by the hearth,

Stirring embers of hope

With patient care.

Shall I watch the world

Move in circles of dance,

Quick-stepping chit-chatting,

Change partners, smile-nodding,

While I hold the wall?

Shall I resent my makeup,

My heavy heart, my slow smile,

Silent smirk, deep talk?

Raise my fist to a Maker

Who clearly knows better?

I was not made for easy.

But He tells me,

“Your smile will be earned,

Your laugh will be true,

A ceremonial bell ringing.

“Your heart will be heavy,

Your conversation deep,

An anchor to hold fast

In the shifting tides,

In the shallow places.

“You are not who they are.

When the wall seems alone

I’ll stand beside you, hold the anchor,

Tell you stories until

The bell rings clear again.”

Household gods

I had an interesting conversation with my ten year-old son tonight. One of Judah’s strengths is his curiosity, which often peaks at bedtime. He wants to know everything, and his topics are often deep and engaging.

We have been reading Around the World in Eighty Days, and we reached a point regarding India and the Hindu belief in many gods. He understands the religion in a general sense, but could not understand how people could believe in such a multitude of gods, so many that they could not possibly know them all.

Courtesy of Retro Printing, Etsy

To the contrary, it might be the most human way to believe.

I reminded him that polytheism is ancient and not restricted to Hinduism. The Greeks, Romans, Norse, Egyptians, Native Americans, and countless other tribes and people groups embraced polytheism. Their gods had stories and patron causes, and families or communities adopted particular gods as their own.

There is a particular difference in these gods and the God of our faith. In Christianity and Judaism, God is omnipotent, omniscient, omnipotent, and (yes) holy. He is not like a human, and though Christ is God incarnate, he is holy and without sin.

The stories of gods told of their faults and vices; they were angry, jealous, lustful, and proud. In short, these gods were oddly human. Relatable, entertaining, but more human than holy.

For all our Western Christianity, though, we have not strayed far. For many, while we might claim to be monotheistic in our religion, we are polytheistic in our in our idolatry.

We claim Jesus, but know all of a celebrity’s stories better than his. We claim to worship Yahweh, but we spend all our breath on praising the latest movie or series or album. We own a Bible, but spend more time reading the mostly fictional stories on social media. We know to pray, but would rather wring our hands over political and societal issues. We would rather relate to angry, vengeful, jealous, lustful gods of culture than aspire to connect to a savior who laid down his life for us.

If we are honest, idolatry is never far. We can all enjoy a good story (I am a writer, after all!), but we must be diligent to check our hearts for shrines to household gods. No one deserves greater space in our lives than the holy God of the universe.

Watermelon

Photo by freestocks.org from Pexels

Watermelon

Is to be cut only on

A wooden picnic table atop

Three layers of Sunday paper

(Not the funny pages, though),

Sprinkled with table salt,

Approximately between

supper and sunset,

Surrounded by

Bobbed and bowed toddling

Sun-dressed babies,

Big brothers perched on

Said table (for aim advantage)

Shooting seeds from

Slobbery puckered faces,

The aftermath sprayed with

The holy water of

A green rubber hose.

A Resilient Spirit

There is a Christmas song that has been playing in my mind all day. It is a poem, actually, by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, made all the more powerful arranged in song by Casting Crowns. Longfellow wrote the poem during the Civil War after his son had been injured in fighting. It is all about the prevailing of Right and the promise of peace during the dark times of war.

But it’s April. There is no war, there are no bells.

At the beginning of March, we Nashvillians experienced an awful tornado, followed almost immediately by the effects of this virus, quarantine, and economic disaster. But in all, we showed our spirit. In tragedy and difficulty, we were resilient. Teachers made education happen when schools closed; ministries went online; restaurants changed their business models overnight; authors and musicians entertained from their homes; families held visits through glass doors and game nights on Zoom; neighborhoods held art crawls and window bear hunts. It was beautiful and inspiring.

Courtesy nashvillepublicart.com

But the underbelly has surfaced. There seems to have been a shift from resilience to frustration, anger, self-righteousness, finger-pointing. Much of it seems to stem from fear and loss of control, but also the desire to make some sort of political gain.

“And in despair I bowed my head;

‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said;

    ‘For hate is strong,

    And mocks the song

Of peace on earth, good-will to men!’”

It’s heartbreaking, this duality of mankind. One moment, we can take on all the dragons. The next, we have turned our swords on each other. And the worst of it all is watching the Christians succumb to the fear, making politics their god and basing their faith on their bank accounts. Many claim not to live in fear of the virus, yet they live in fear of losing their financial stability. We make a mockery of ourselves and our God when we scream for ourselves and forget the lost, broken, and desperate creation He has called us to steward.

I have faith that this virus will end and that God will restore what the locusts have eaten. I also have faith, however, that God is more concerned with our heart status than our socioeconomic status or even our social liberties. He is doing a new thing, and our lives will not return to “normal” if normal means complacent to God and idolatrous of the world.

“Then pealed the bells more loud and deep:

‘God is not dead, nor doth He sleep;

    The Wrong shall fail,

    The Right prevail,

With peace on earth, good-will to men.’”

And so I am calling you, brothers and sisters, to put down your swords and pick up your plowshares. Become the resilient people of the spirit and not the fearful people of the flesh. Look to bless and not to curse, and you will find that God is always working for the good of those who love Him.

Why the Women in Your Life Love Cheesy Romantic Movies (and why you should be paying attention)

As the holiday season winds to a close, I have been making some observations I thought I would share with you fellas out there.

Also, I have done a fair share of research on the topic.

You see, I have two young daughters; one seven, and the other almost four. While they love their kid shows and videos, if Mom turns on the TV, they come running. They know what’s happening.

Mom’s watching a “girl” movie.

Yes, I confess this educated, literary, tea-drinking, high-brow drama mama is a sucker for a Hallmark movie. In fact, most of the women I know are. But why? Why do even my baby girls get drawn in by these unashamedly low-production value flicks with mediocre acting and recycled plots?

1. Women want to be seen.

There is nothing better in a romantic movie than a googly-eyed gaze, and these movies always deliver. The male leads are always sneaking glances or lingering eye contact at their ingenues. And then there’s the scene, be it dance, ball, or date, where our heroine gets all dolled up and turns all the heads. She is lovely and captivating, and it is an empowering feeling.

The desire for this feeling is an innate need. It is Adam waking up from rib surgery and standing in amazement at Eve. It is my daughters running to Daddy for approval anytime they fix their hair or change their outfits. Women want to be told not only they are beautiful, but they are worthy of love and have the power to captivate.

2. Women want to be known.

Do you ever notice how the hero and heroine manage to fall in love in the space of time between Thanksgiving and Christmas? Okay, so not all of these cheesy romances are holiday movies, but even so – a few weeks, maybe a month, and they are practically engaged (or actually engaged, or married!)! Of course it isn’t realistic, but it becomes conceivable because the hero gets to know the heroine – actually know her. He listens. He pays attention. He goes out of his way to understand her and reach her. This is true intimacy, and is the key to a woman’s heart. It is Hagar in the desert at her lowest place and God reaching out, saying, “I am the God who sees you.” He knows her story and her struggles and wants to meet her there. A woman feels secure when someone is interested and invested in her.

3. Women want the magic.

Put down the pitchfork, Puritans, I don’t mean that kind of magic. All of these movies, just like fairytales and myths, contain an element of the supernatural. Whether they call it fate or destiny or Christmas spirit, there are forces beyond the natural at work to bring people together and put things right. While I would not say it is exclusive to women, I believe humans are built for the supernatural because we are spirit. There is that thing deep down that knows quantitative reality is only part of the picture. We want to believe in a divine and beneficent force at work, even if we are too vague or obtuse to name it.

4. Women want family.

That statement is not a political manifesto or misogynistic stereotyping. Family is a basic human need, and women, as natural nurturers, feel it more distinctly. In nearly every one of these movies, there is an element of going home or restoring family relations. Where there is not biological family, there are work families or community families. People need people; they need a support system and a safe place. So, the restoration of family in these movies satisfies a human emotion in the viewer which is desperately needed in our increasingly individualistic world.

5. Women want a happy ending.

With Shakespeare’s tragedies, everyone dies. Comedies, however, mean everyone gets married. He knew how to please an audience. In these movies, you can count on happy ending. No surprises, no tragedies, no disappointments. No, it isn’t realistic, and that’s the point. Women in particular bear a good deal of real life struggles, particularly in people relationships. I remember trying to watch any dramatic movie after I had my first child and simply being unable to recover from or even finish many. The real world is full of heartache, but what we need is hope. That happy ending restores our resilience and helps us see the possibility of good triumphing over evil.

So, then, why should the men of the world take notice? The old adage says, “Happy wife, happy life.” But it is more than that: women have biological and emotional needs (just as men do), and, instead of laughing it off, you can accept the challenge. Gaze a little longer, know her favorite book and what her passions are, make family and friends a priority, and give her hope for the hard days.

And watch one with her – you might like it.

Of Honor and Idolatry, Part 2

Idolatry obeys out of fear or need to please.

If I were to ask a sample crowd if they are people pleasers, most would answer an emphatic “No.” No one wants to admit to need-to-please proclivities, but I would venture to say that most of us have it in our nature. We all want to be in someone’s good graces, particularly when that someone has power, authority, or influence. Often Christian leaders, like pastors or speakers, hold not only a high level of influence and authority, but also high moral standing and a charismatic personality. Simply put, they are people whose good opinion is worth having. However, the desire to earn someone’s good opinion easily slips into toxic territory, causing a person to obsess or fixate on their approval. We can put up false fronts, lie, or behave with duplicity in order to convince our idol of our worthiness. We might even lose our identity and uniqueness if we feel inadequate in the eyes of our idol. The problem is, then, that we make a person’s approval worth more than God’s, Who sees all and knows all.

Additionally, our obedience to an idol can arise from fear — fear of rejection, disapproval, or loss of relationship. If we obey simply because we fear reprimand or consequence from the leader, we have missed the point of the relationship.

Honor obeys out of love and trust.

Jesus summarized a true relationship with God when He said, “If you love me, keep my commands” (John 14:15). He did not say, “If you keep my commands, you will love me.” Obeying God will not put us in right standing with Him if our love isn’t for Him first. It’s empty manipulation. Quid pro quo, if you will.

We can follow Jesus because we can trust Him. I can follow my husband’s lead because I love him and trust his love for me and our family.

I do not want my kids to obey me because they fear me or even because they want to please me. I want them to obey me because they trust that I love them and want the best for them. I want them to come to me without fear, exactly as they are, and follow my lead because I care for them.

And if we treat our Christian leaders in the same respect, the result is the same. So when I choose to submit to a spiritual leader, it is because I can trust that person (and ultimately, the Spirit of God), not because I need his approval.

When we submit our philosophies to another person’s perspective, it must be out of honor and respect. Anything else is breeding ground for a toxic, dangerous relationship.

Of Honor and Idolatry, Part 1

I make no claims of being a professional prophet, nor do I hear from the Lord perfectly all the time. However, there are times when I feel (not think) a message quickly and powerfully. In those moments, I know God is speaking to me for a reason.

I wrote the bulk of this message a few weeks ago. It flowed through me so abruptly that I had to use the talk-to-text function to keep up. But, as I often do, I let the document sit in my notes untouched afterward.

I did not see the connection at first, but in the meantime the Christian world was rocked by a certain young, influential author boldly proclaiming his spiritual enlightenment and abandoning his Christian faith. While the author’s most influential work is from my B.C. days, I know many around my age who were greatly effected by his ideas. But there have been others, countless others: worship leaders and musicians, pastors, teachers, authors, and celebrities. Many have publicly expressed unbiblical beliefs or failures and have taken flocks down with them. The Bible warns us that teachers will be held accountable for those they lead astray, but my heart breaks for those who hitch themselves to a falling star.

On the flip side, I have seen the beauty and power of a culture of honor in the church. Honoring people who use their gifts to serve the Body of Christ is biblical and necessary to a healthy church.

So how do we know the difference between honoring Christian leaders and idolizing them?

Idolatry ignores flaws.

We see this mistake in politics when people defend or turn a blind eye towards wrongs of their particular party or politician. Often, believers are more interested in being politically “right” (pun intended) than being biblically righteous.

However, this behavior is just as common within church walls when a leader’s actions are questionable, but defended, excused, or tolerated. We read a book by an influential pastor, and suddenly, we accept every word as “gospel” because of popularity. We hear that certain celebrities are Christians, and we follow and promote them endlessly. But what happens if (read: when) they fall? When their opinions change? When they espouse beliefs which contradict the Word? Often, we are anxious to maintain our popular poster child, and reluctant to admit we were wrong to boast in people. So, we compromise our own convictions to save face.

Honor sees flaws but covers them with grace.

To honor leaders does not mean to ignore their failures. Rather, it faces them with open eyes, addresses them with an open heart, and gives mercy with open hands.

After the flood in the book of Genesis, Noah was found in the wine press, drunken and naked on the floor. One son ridiculed him, while the other two covered him without looking at him. They acknowledged his fault, but covered him out of honor. In the Gospels, Peter denied his friend Jesus three times. Jesus addressed him in private, showed him mercy, and restored him in relationship. Jesus honored Peter even in correction and set him on a path to lead the Church.

I believe in supporting our pastors and even those politicians and celebrities who openly proclaim their faith. These leaders have a difficult job, whether it is preaching, teaching, or creating content. Additionally, they face increased scrutiny in our culture simply because they claim Jesus.

We should show them Honor by supporting them, praying for them, and addressing their faults honestly and gracefully.

We will look at more comparisons in the coming posts. For now, I wonder: Is there a time when I have made excuses for a Christian influencer out of my own pride or disillusionment? What was the outcome? How can I show honor to my leaders while keeping off the rose-colored glasses?

The Resurrection and the Renaissance

We do not really use the word “Easter” around our house. I know it is the quintessential Christian holy day, but the word itself has roots, well, elsewhere. We tend to say “Resurrection Sunday.” After all, that is what it is. We reflect through Holy Week. We prepare our hearts on Maundy Thursday. We mourn on Good Friday. We wait on Holy Saturday. And then, we rejoice on Resurrection Sunday. Jesus has risen, and He is risen daily in our hearts. And because He is risen, we, too die to sin and are risen in Him, alive again.

But there is more, isn’t there.

I taught my son about the Israelites’ feast days that were ordained by God as they dwelt in the desert. I told him how many cultures from the earliest times have held feasts or celebrations during spring and fall because nature itself reminds us of what we have to celebrate and urges us to give thanks. We discussed the importance of Jesus’ crucifixion occurring on the Passover, which is in the spring. It signifies new life.

To resurrect is to rise from the dead. But as any little boy will tell you, when someone comes back from the dead, he is a zombie. And zombies aren’t pretty.

God built our hearts to earnestly seek resurrection. When He begins to draw us, the overwhelming feeling of sin compels us to run to the cross and die to ourselves.

But if we stop there, we are little more than the risen dead, zombies with old bodies and old habits and old hangups, still just waiting to please the flesh.

I think Jars of Clay wrote a song about it…

<ear worm>

We all know the word “Renaissance” from our history lessons. It means “new birth,” and it is the joy and exuberance of spring in her glory. It is the breath of fresh air after the death of winter. It is color and song and light.

We are built for it, my friends.

See, the former things have taken place, and new things I declare; before they spring into being, I announce them to you.” – Isaiah 42:9

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here.” – 2 Corinthians 5:17

The Resurrection brings us back, and the inner working of new birth, or Renaissance if you will, gives us a new heart, a new mind, and a new perspective. We leave the dead man in his grave and embrace with fresh eyes the Kingdom of God.

It is a choice. This Resurrection Sunday, I will not walk around dragging my dead, decaying self, believing it is enough to have been risen in Jesus. I will not go to the altar, say I am dying to myself, and take those same habits back home with me to live every other day the same way I have always done.  I will leave that old self in the grave. I will choose to accept His new life.