50 SHADES OF BLUE

 

Once Upon a Time, I was a sickenly-sweet moppet of a child, the darlingest of tots. According to my unbiased mother. And also according to mom, I developed one bad habit. If I didn’t get my way, I’d protest the unfairness by holding my breath. Until I turned blue. After several of these tantrums, fearful for my life, poor mom called the doctor, begging for his help. Doc said, “Ignore her. Walk out of the room. She just wants attention. The worst that can happen is she’ll faint and then start breathing again.”

It just about killed her, but she walked away. Being a fast learner, I never bothered turning blue again. And we all lived happily ever after.

Wouldn’t it be nice if I could say that I never-ever again demanded my own way? It’s easy enough to justify being demanding in this world because I see the same behavior from others every day, usually on the news. Sometimes it has to do with which direction one’s knees are bent, up or down. Protesting in its many forms is demanding attention, wanting what we want when we want it. And if we don’t get it, we’ll “hold our breath” in one way or another until we get it.

Although I’ve never tried holding my breath literally in adulthood, since the Lord saved me, it has now occurred to me that maybe, sometimes, rarely, I’ve done it spiritually. If He isn’t giving me what I ask for, speedily, well, I recognize that I have indeed held my spiritual breath as an incentive to Him to produce-or-else.

It’s unnerving to see that in print, to admit to myself and to Him that this is in my heart. It’s obvious that turning spiritually “blue” means that I don’t believe His way is best, no matter what His timeline is. It’s an obvious lack of trust, and God has never been a fan of whining and complaining children. He doesn’t panic about His kids’ behavior. The wandering Israelites learned that the hard way, moaning about their wandering and His manna provision (Numbers 21:4-5).

My patient and loving Father, thank You for gently (and sometimes forcibly) teaching me to stop holding my spiritual breath in a bid for what I think is proper attention and instant gratification. Sometimes I’m a slow learner, thinking that feeding my pride is preferable to humbly and joyfully trusting in You with all my heart. Please help me to remember that You graciously give me breath every day. I want to live out Your written word in Psalm 50, and be like all creation, that everything (including me) that has breath praise the Lord. Thank You for causing me daily not to hold my breath, but to breathe out praise for Your excellent greatness!

 

NOTHING TO FEAR

 

Look at that worried little face.  Sad, isn’t it?  Don’t you just wanna cuddle him and say “don’t worry baby, everything will be alright”?

Have you ever heard the story about a guy who was terrified of monsters under his bed?  He spent many years and many dollars being treated by a psychologist, but it was no good.  He was still afraid of monsters.  One day, he went into a bar and told his fearful woes to the bartender who promptly told him, “well, just cut the legs off the bed!”

Problem solved!  I wonder … can all fears be dissolved that easily?  Well, one way is to consider that not all fears will necessarily materialize.  As a wise old fortune cookie once said, “fear is interest paid on a debt you may not owe.”

But seriously, how does one “cut the legs” off of fear?  Especially in today’s world, with many national leaders sporting dubious hairdos and formidable rhetoric, and volcanoes, and freakish activities on airplanes, and asteroids with murder on their minds, and people’s “identity” du’jours, and the threats of becoming cashless, not to mention no more cursive writing, oh my, I can feel my nerves tightening up and my gut dancing an evil jig and …..

Okay, hold it right there, knock it off.  What’s needed here is not a contemptible collage of catastrophes, but rather a superlative soliloquy of Sovereignty.  In other words, the Big Picture.  I love to sit and ponder Daniel’s perspective.  He wasn’t freaked out by who was the king (Daniel 2:20-22).  He understood potential terror, because he stood in the middle of it (Daniel 3:13-27).  Through everything, he proclaimed God’s sovereignty. The apostle Paul certainly endured circumstances that will (probably) never be ours (2 Corinthians 11:23-29).  But to the end, he proclaimed the Kingdom of God (Acts 28:23).

Jesus repeatedly told His disciples to “fear not, it is I (literally, “I Am”).  He is all that’s needed for the Big Picture.

My gracious, loving, and omnipotent Father, thank You for giving me the proper perspective:  don’t look under the bed, but look up, towards You.  Rejoice and don’t be anxious, why?  Because my Jesus is near and so is Your peace! (Philippians 4:4-7).  I’ve read the end of Your Book, and You win, and it’s permanent, for all eternity.  As I walk through this life and trip myself up on circumstances, please help my unbelief, instead fixing my hope on You.  How dinky and unimportant things on this earth appear when I lean into Your secure arms and believe Your promises. 

 

NOT MINE!

 

Hashtags + snarky comments = how to do life in today’s world.  For some people.

Of course, I myself am not a snarky person.  Well, hardly ever.   And let me also say that I never-ever spout political commentaries.  Until today, because hashtags and politics seem to collide and procreate quite often on social media, and it’s just too hard to resist tiptoeing through the hashtags.

One of the most viral was the #notmypresident cerebral joy fest.  It’s yuge!  Uh-oh, I just snarked, didn’t I?  Well, anyway, no matter who the political contenders are, some of the townspeople are inclined to rise up with pitchforks and torches and if they can’t run him/her outta town, at least they express their dismay with great gusto, and marching.  Why?  Because the townspeople refuse to have someone as their leader with whom they disagree mightily.  Doesn’t matter if the contender is ultimately elected fair-and-square (or unfair-and-unsquared), the people still insist that this person is #notmypresident.

And since nothing is new under the sun, I believe that long before social media and hashtags ever existed, that same thought process was in townspeople’s minds, regardless if the leader was an elected president, a king, or a despicable ruler.  In the people’s minds, they’re muttering, “#notmine!”  But ya know what?  This rebellious attitude of refusing to acknowledge leaders is the same as refusing God’s sovereignty. "The Most High God is ruler over the realm of mankind and He sets over it whomever He wishes" (Daniel 5:21).

Remember Pharaoh?  What was his attitude toward God?  “Who is the Lord that I should obey His voice to let Israel go?  I do not know the Lord!” (Exodus 5:2).  Yep, #notmylord. 

Ungodly and unrighteous men “suppress the truth in unrighteousness …; even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks …; they did not see fit to acknowledge God any longer” (Romans 1:18, 21, 28).  In other words, I want what I want, and if God doesn’t agree with me, well then, He’s #notmygod.  Frankly, the hashtag attitude is all through Scripture.  Men are wise in their own eyes, and if anyone, especially God, doesn't measure up, gets the hashtag eye roll.

My God, I know that You have forgiven me for my pre-salvation eyerolls at You, and my prideful rejection of You.  I refused to acknowledge Your sovereignty, and I refused to trust You.  I am eternally thankful that You saved me.  Please keep me from being wise in my own eyes, not expecting You to bow to my wishes, and to trust You daily, regardless of my personal and/or worldly circumstances.  I know that this earthly life is but a blip in time.  I want to be continually looking up in anticipation of that day when I’m face to face with my Lord Jesus Who saved me. And every day, I will humbly honor You as #myGod.

FAKE NEWS, MR. ROGERS, AND ITCHING EARS

My hubs and I don’t have cable, nor do we subscribe to a newspaper.  We get our news from a limited regular-tv supply, not to mention the invaluable social media daily tsunami.  Most of this is ignored, and rightly so, because we’ve become aware recently of something hilariously labeled as “fake news.”  Apparently, somebody out there achieves great self-glory by spreading false information in such a way that people actually believe it to be true.  The icky fake people must be in a constant state of helpless giggling as they consider the potential gullibility of total strangers, passing on this creative “journalism” as truth, thereby causing their victims to not care about actual true truth at all.  Therefore, I took it upon myself to discover that one “ground-zero” person who is at the bottom of all this.  And now, after months of excrutiatingly thorough work, there will be a one-hour t.v. spectacular where I’ll share with you who’s responsible.  But you don’t want to wait that long, so here ya go --

It’s Mr. Rogers!  You thought he was deceased, didn’t you?  Nooooo, he’s still alive, skulking in back-room tobacco shops, wearing camouflage overalls, scribbling incendiary fake political commentaries, endorsed by the Russians who pay him in chocolate cigarettes and vodka, and …

Wow, this is really fun, I see why people do it.  I sit here grinning to myself that gullible people will be reading this on social media, commenting with shock-face emojis, and sharing it with all their friends.  What a power surge!

Ok, enough of that.  Because right now, I’m thinking of the whole fake news issue from a different angle, and it’s giving me wheezes.

Just as there are sneaky people with questionable motives spreading false information to the undiscerning public, there are also people passing themselves off as biblically literate preachers and teachers, taking advantage of many gullible itching-ear people who actually prefer this fake news instead of the Good News, the true gospel.  And why would these fake teachers want to do this?  Because of the one self-glorifying individual behind it all, and it’s not Mr. Rogers.  It is the ground-zero “father of lies” (John 8:44).  He’s the one who, from the beginning, purred, “Indeed, has God said …?” (Genesis 3:1).

Fake news/gospel says:  “God is love (and nothing else depressing), and He loves everybody because you’re all so sweet and adorable.  You’re definitely going to heaven, whatever that is, because you’re so good.  And the more money you give and the more niceness you show to others, the more you’ve earned your place in heaven.  Jesus is one road, AND so are Buddha, Mary, and reincarnation!  It all works out in the end, so don’t worry, be happy!”

Good news/gospel says:  “God is love (and holiness and everything else awe-inspiring).  And He says that no one is good, no not one.  We are all disgustingly dead in our sins.  The one true God arranged for our salvation by faith alone, through His grace alone, NOT our own good works.  The Lord Jesus Christ is the only Way and the only Truth, and only He accomplished our salvation on the Cross, reconciling us to God.  And only by genuine on-our-knees repentance before God, do we receive forgiveness for our sins, and freedom from our sins.  It’s a narrow road.  Only those who come to Christ, and know Him personally, will see Him as He is, to live with Him eternally.  We’re justified, sanctified, and glorified.  Buddha, Mary, and reincarnation are hopelessly inept and incapable.  If you depend on them, you have much to worry about.”

My God and my Savior, how I thank You for Your true words in Scripture, and through the Holy Spirit, giving me discernment, and the desire to exercise that discernment, keeping me from being a woman of itching ears.  I don’t want to believe things that only make me feel good about myself and ignorant of eternity.  I want to treasure in my heart Your words that convict, encourage, comfort, and keep me hand-in-hand with You through eternity.  I praise You according to Your excellent greatness (Psalm 150:2).

WHO CAN KNOW?

 

If there’s one thing that I definitely know about life, it’s that there are many things I don’t know, such as, where I put my glasses or cellphone that I just had a minute ago. I don’t know how to do taxes. I don’t know why my computer freaks out. I don’t know why cats are sometimes insane. And I’ll never know why my husband thinks that bacon-wrapped brussel sprouts are tasty, when everybody knows that chocolate-wrapped fruit is heaven sent.

And speaking of heaven ... because my earthly life is stuffed to the brim with mostly mundane daily trivia, and occasional life-altering surprises, the older I get, the more I’m inclined to be eagerly looking up. And at the same time, I feel very sad that hoards of people don’t know, don’t want to believe, what happens after they die. Simply put, they don’t want to know or believe God, who He is, and His promises (Jeremiah 9:23-24).

I myself used to have a shaky belief in a generic “god” out there, but he (or she or it) must certainly be apathetic about earthlings. I sorta knew that Jesus existed, that He was a good guy. But I didn’t spend any time in the Bible, because I preferred to read anything other than Scripture. Mostly, I believed in reincarnation, that I alone decided the course of my own life (and future lives). And I was pretty sure that everything somehow all worked out in the end and every single person would live in a paradise of his/her own making. I knew the Bible said that Jesus had resurrected, but somehow it was easier to believe in self-reincarnation than God-ordained resurrection. I sneered much.

Then one day, in His perfect timing, my God saved me. And I know why. Because He loved me first (1 John 4:19). He turned my twisted self-oriented thinking into straightforward faith in Him. He humbled me and caused me to see my sinful nature that rebelled against His perfect holiness, caused me to confess and repent of sin, caused me to crave His Word alone, and caused me to know Who His Son really is. He gave me an anchor-solid understanding that Jesus wasn’t just a nice fella who was born, did nice things, died an un-nice death, and maybe resurrected.

I also began to see myself in Scripture, that I had been like the “religious” people who “sneered” when hearing of the resurrection (Acts 17:22, 32). I had been like the disciple Thomas who refused to believe what he hadn’t yet seen (John 20:27-30).

In my suddenly pervasive reading of Scripture, it became clear that the Lord Jesus spoke of resurrection often. And not just His own resurrection, but His promise to raise up every believer (John 5:28-9). He wanted me to know, without any doubt, that I could trust His promises because I could trust Him. My soul soared to read His words, “I go to prepare a place for you, ... I will come again and receive you to Myself, that where I am, there you may be also” (John 14:2-3). He has promised that I will be caught up together with other believers in the clouds to meet Him in the air, “and so we shall always be with the Lord” (1 Thessalonians 4:16-18). What comforting words!

Knowing a few facts about Jesus in my head just wasn’t enough. I had to believe, to know in my heart that He is the only Way to heaven, He is the only truth, and He is the eternal Life (John 14:6). I will be resurrected, in God’s perfect time (John 6:40, 47; 1 Corinthians 15:22, 44, 49), to live with Him eternally.

I’m not to trust or believe in my own allegedly wise eyes, “but in God who raises the dead” (2 Corinthians 1:9). Jesus said, “He who believes in Me will live even if he dies, and everyone who lives and believes in Me will never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25-26).

My God, I know that You keep Your promises and You do not lie. My Jesus, You and the Father are one. I can, and I do, believe Your promises to me. This Easter, I fall on my knees and thank You, that You died on my behalf to reconcile me to my God. And I celebrate Your resurrection, oh-so eagerly looking forward to The Day when all in Your church will be with You eternally, to the glory of God.

I believe all of this, and I know there is no ? to eternity. 

CHIRPING BIRDS AND BUSTED BOTTLES

In my humble opinion, this is the proper way to walk a pup -- in the seasonally glorious woods, with fresh air, chirping birds, bubbling brooks, Bambi, munchkins, and most important, convenient benches for tired old people with hyperactive pups, all of whom require copious amounts of sugar-saturated energy snacks.


As opposed to ... traipsing down the sidewalk on our boulevard where people in wannabe racecars shoot off the nearby highway, spasming along at warp speed, tossing out bottles of who-knows-what (although I do) which shatter all over driveways and sidewalks. ’Tis certainly a different type of exercise for us, less like sauntering, more like frantic hopscotching, avoiding spiked and splintery shards scattered about, capable of shredding even the thickest of athletic shoes, and certainly delicate wee puppy paws.

 

Upon consideration, is anyone’s life really like the Bambi-walk through the woods? Nah. Most people’s lives, occasionally or frequently, resemble the hopscotch through the city’s shards. Not to sound cheerless, but diligence is necessary in maneuvering through life. And when we insist on powering through on our own wisdom, well, things can get messy really fast. At least that’s been true in my own life. More than once. Slowwwww learner.

 

What’s my point? Well, as I’m walking our little Minnie pup through the obstacle-shard-course, from my tall long-legged human vantage point, I have a pretty good view of the surrounding area. Short-legged puppy’s vantage point is spectacularly limited, and she could care less about danger. Her goal in life is to smell every blade of grass and pee on it. 

 

So here’s my point -- it’s my job to maneuver her safely through her walk, by guiding and sometimes pulling her away from the shards aiming to cause her harm. I want her to pay more attention to me than she does to peeing on things. Does Minnie WANT to be guided by me? No, she wants to do her thing, when and how she wants to do it. Does that behavior sound familiar? Yes, and I’m ashamed of myself. Because even at my somewhat advanced age, I still find myself lurching away from the guidance of the Holy Spirit, demanding to do things my own way, because hey! I’m gonna do what I want. That’s what happens when I forget the velvety admonition that “pride goes before destruction, and a haughty spirit before stumbling” (Proverbs 16:18).

 

My all-seeing and all-knowing God, forgive me for refusing to stop and consider that You see things that I cannot, things that You desire to guide me through and around, so that I’m not hurt. No doubt You’ll take me places I’d rather not go for my good and Your glory, but please cause me to pay more attention to You than on my sensory miscalculations. Remind me as often as necessary in Your Word how much you un-love pride and self-sufficiency, and how much You really love humility of heart and trust in You (Proverbs 3:5-6). I am full of praise as You lead me to become less selfish and more faithful as You walk me through the rest of my life.