Shades of gray

There are a lot of things about this Christianity business that don’t quite sit well with my soul. I wish I could say I believed with every fiber of my being that the Bible meant EXACTLY what it says, and I will gladly profess to believe that, but deep down, I have too many doubts to feel confident in that belief. I’m just not sure if the God of the Bible is as black and white as many Christians claim He is. I think He is definitely firm about the Calvary road and our hope for salvation, but as far as the non-essentials of the faith go, sometimes I think He’s messin’ with us! Let me first state that the thoughts that rattle around in this feeble mind of mine are just that – thoughts and most often, doubts that I love to toss out there into the great unknown. Add to that the rebellious spirit within me and the weird fascination I have with conflict and chaos, and I’m pretty much nothing but trouble. Basically, don’t take offense; I’m just expressing a feeling that is in no way carved in stone. Alrighty then…

I think it’s possible that God may be a lot less concerned about the sins we do (and do not) commit here on Earth and a lot more concerned about how we deal with people – the ones who agree with our philosophies and the ones who march to a different beat. In the end, I believe what we did FOR God will matter much less than what we did WITH those we came in contact with. And by what we did, I don’t mean all the fabulous sacrifices we made, the lavish gifts we gave or the profound wisdom we offered in their time of need. I mean, the way we related to them, the grace we extended, the love and mercy and understanding we attempted to extend. Do we really try to express God’s love or do we use it to guilt them into buying into our agenda? Do we accept them as children who hurt and act out of that hurt or do we fault them for their shortcomings, differing opinions and non-conformity?

Ok, so maybe it’s not the best movie in the world, but I’m actually going to use the movie Saved to illustrate this point. If you can get past how inappropriate you may believe the movie is, you may discover that there’s truth beneath the humor. Perhaps that may be why so many people find it offensive. In one scene, the main character, Hillary, throws her Bible at a former friend and screams, “You are backsliding into the gates of Hell. I am filled with Christ’s love.” Come on now, look beyond the blatant and pointed attack on super-religious Christians and try to see for just one moment, what struck ME about this scene. One thought screamed at me over and over again as I watched this scene unfold. God’s word, the Bible, is a love story. Jesus is the love song God sings to each one of us. And Hillary’s friend sums it up perfectly in her response, “THIS (the Bible) is not a weapon.” Do I use the Bible as a weapon to alienate non-believers and condemn believers or do I read it as the love story I believe God intended it to be, a love story written just for me?

Ok, movie reference #2…in Pleasantville, the town is in an uproar when their black and white existence is threatened by splashes of color. Things begin to change and their lives can no longer be contained within the neatly packaged box they’ve lived in for years. When change threatens to disrupt familiarity, chaos ensues. The possibility of anything unexpected and unfamiliar is simply frightening and must be stopped. Here’s what I see as the beauty in the story (and again, my favorite scene). The people of Pleasantville have read the same books for years and know exactly what to expect. When this sudden change begins to take shape and life as they know it, is altered, the pages of the books are suddenly blank. As they listen intently to the main character tell stories out loud - stories many of them have never heard - the words begin to appear on the pages. The story writes itself as it is told. What I love about this picture is that it begins with a blank slate. No one knows what to expect until the story unfolds and while some of them find this disturbing, others are somewhat intrigued. There is no mandate on where the road should lead or how they must respond. They are left with nothing but a desire to relate to one another, to share and to discover, together, what the next page will bring. I think our faith is much like this. God did not intend our lives to be lived in black and white, always knowing what lies ahead, what behavior is “appropriate” and what rules will best satisfy our every need. I believe He intends us to write the story together. As the final line in Saved states, “What would Jesus do? I don’t really know, but I think the goal is for us to try to figure it out together.”

I’m not saying that none of us should follow the guidelines God has clearly communicated to us through the Bible and divine revelation. I am simply asserting that sometimes, maybe following the rules is not as important as letting the road take us into unfamiliar territory. Isn’t life a journey, after all? And I do believe God is ok with that. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that we can freely disregard God’s word to suit our needs, but rather, overcoming our “shoulds” and “ought tos” to suit the needs of another. Imagine the possibilities if just once, we put our own ideals and opinions aside long enough to listen to those of someone else, to HEAR what they are saying, understand their heart’s cry, and be what they need us to be at that moment, despite what we feel we should be or should say or even what we THINK they need. I think the only one who truly knows what we need is God and he deals with me in the most precious and unimaginable way possible, he loves me, regardless of my faults, in the absence of my desire to be faultless and with the gentle touch of someone who truly “gets” me. I think instead of trying to get everyone saved, we should get them all loved and let God do the saving. When I read the Bible, I usually pray first, “Speak to me, God.” I think now I’ll pray, “Sing to me, Jesus, the love song I so desperately need to hear, and let me sing it to others when they forget the tune.”

God’s love to you all!

Are you there God? It's me, Julie.

Is it possible to feel close to God in the absence of a horribly tragic experience? I have not felt close to Him in a very long time and I take full responsibility. I haven’t spoken to Him or cried out to Him or (God forbid) even needed Him for quite some time. But what I’ve noticed is that the times I need Him and cry out to Him are the times I am most vulnerable, the times I am going through some sort of turmoil or suffering some sort of loss. I need Him desperately in those moments and in the “in-between” times, I am ambivalent. This troubles me and I wonder – can I feel that closeness with God that I long for when things are going ok for me or do I have to feel pain to come to Him on a daily basis? I guess pain develops in me that longing for the comfort of God’s healing touch, of intimate belonging, or reliance on His strength. I guess what I really want is to feel that longing without having to suffer great pain, without having a need so overwhelming I have no choice but to need and cry out to God.

Is it awful to say that I don’t need God right now? Will He send tragedy my way so that I will need Him? Is His heart breaking because I have barely acknowledged His existence lately? I’m not sure we can actually break God’s heart. I have a very good friend that I only speak to once in a blue moon. My heart does not break when I don’t hear from her for a while, but when she does call, I am more than elated to hear her voice. My personal belief is that this is how God views us. He loves us but He does not sit around in mourning when we don’t call. My unsettling struggle at the moment is that I don’t want to be in this situation any longer. I MISS GOD. I miss His friendship. I miss feeling connected to Him. I do believe we go through peaks and valleys in our “crawl” with the Lord, and thus breeds my curiosity – can I feel close to God in my ambivalence, when things are not spiraling out of control?

And now, I will cloud the issue further. Can God use me to confirm the faith of others despite my ambivalence? And at what cost? Can my words (despite the lack of feeling and faith behind them) be used to communicate God’s love even if I myself do not feel loved by God? Sometimes I feel as if I’m sacrificing my own relationship with God to ensure that others develop their relationships with Him. I speak faith very well, but it doesn’t seem to be active in my own life. I am preaching someone else’s experience and not my own. I believe that God loves me, but I have not felt changed by His love. I believe the events that were illustrated in The Passion of the Christ but I was not moved by them or brought to tears the way everyone around me was. My thought was, “Great movie, good fiction, very well done artistically.” God’s love and sacrifice seems so far removed, I cannot possibly allow it to stir in me a heartfelt response. I am deeply saddened by this and further frustrated when friends tell me they have seen a drastic change in me. How can I be changed if I don’t feel changed? I discussed this issue at length with some friends last night. Typically, the more I talk about my situation, the more clarity I have about what it is that makes me tick. I think it’s possible I discovered the underlying reason for my lack of passion in regards to my Heavenly Father. I have allowed the walls to crumble in numerous relationships with people I (thought I) loved and was betrayed time and time again. I would even go so far as to say that I chose intentionally NOT to sin in a particular area (hehe), despite my fears of abandonment, to honor God and yet, He still took from me something that I held very dear, something I believed was precious – at least at that time. I felt wronged by those relationships and even by God. Broken and hurt, I vowed somewhere along the line to never feel wronged again. I vowed to never feel ANYTHING remotely close to vulnerable, to steer clear of any sort of emotion that could potentially cause me pain. And now, it is nearly impossible to trust and believe in a loving God. Is there any greater loss than the potential loss of God’s love? It is so much safer to say that I believe in His furious love, but yet refuse to let it in far enough to move or change me. So I guess it isn’t so difficult to understand how a girl who claims to be a child of God can stand with Him and not be moved by Him. I’m just thankful He stands with me in the times I feel like running. But I’m still a bit dissatisfied. I’m a firm believer in exploring our past experiences to learn to recognize certain behaviors in our lives, but not to explain or excuse our actions as justifiable because of what we’ve been through. So now that I’ve shed some light on why I feel so ambivalent about God’s love, how do I put aside my fears and insecurities to allow His love to sink in?

Through the kind (and much needed) advice of a dear friend, I was gently reminded that maybe God needs to hear these thoughts that I’ve been having for so long. I was somewhat shaken when I realized that even though I’ve been feeling so distant from Him, it never once occurred to me to tell Him I feel distant, that I long to be brought near again, that I miss Him terribly. There is a line in a song by Lifehouse that has been reverberating in my mind endlessly these past few weeks. “How can I stand here with you and not be moved by you?” Suddenly it dawned on me; the part I’ve been missing is standing with God. And I don’t mean fighting for Him, preaching His word or even vocalizing my faith. I mean standing still with Him, just being in His presence. Maybe a lengthy prayer isn’t necessary. Maybe a song of worship is too much. Maybe, just maybe, all that is needed is to remember He is there when I do feel needy.

God versus the HMO

HMO: You choose your provider (who must fall within the network).
GOD’S KINGDOM: Your provider chooses you.

HMO: If you go outside the network, you are no longer the responsibility of your provider.
GOD’S KINGDOM: If you go outside the network, your provider will go after you.

HMO: Monthly contributions ensure your future.
GOD’S KINGDOM: A one-time contribution ensures your future.

HMO: There is a limit to the quality of care you receive.
GOD’S KINGDOM: God’s love knows no boundaries.

HMO: You cannot be accepted with a pre-existing condition.
GOD’S KINGDOM: You were accepted with a pre-existing condition.

Free at last!

“I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plains, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!” ~Martin Luther King, Jr.

To celebrate Independence Day, I’d like to take a moment to reflect upon my total dependence upon God and just what that entails. You see, I have this account in the First Bank of God. It was opened years ago, when I first became aware of my need for a savior. On that day (which I think was actually while I was still in the womb), a piggy bank appeared on my dresser. God made a deposit. His son died and my account was full (of grace, of salvation, of eternal life, of faith…shall I go on???). From that moment on, I began the long, arduous task of relying on the grace of God and living in need of Him. Believe me, this is no small feat. It is difficult to live in need of a savior, but woe to the person who thinks he can make it on his own! I may not be a confessed alcoholic, but I’m perfectly content to practice step 10 at all times. “Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong, promptly admitted it.” Let me shed a little light on this one. It is extremely important to live in a constant awareness of our actions and our thoughts and to be willing to admit that they are not above reproach, but I think the most important part of this step is a word most people would fly right by – promptly. I’ve tried to make light of my sins, hide them from God, or pretend they weren’t really THAT bad. Oh, but they were (and are). In the matter of coming clean before God, why wait? “What’s the rush?” you ask. The faster I get to the cross to lay it all down, the faster His grace flows. You know what I find truly amazing? There is never a line at the First Bank of God…and there’s only one teller!

Though the deposit God made was a one-shot deal, my account never seems to be diminishing. I make withdrawals on a daily basis and in my piggy bank are thousands upon thousands of little slips that read, “IOU.” Of course I realize I cannot possibly pay God back all He has given me, but you get the idea, right? The piggy bank is always full. And the beauty of the whole scenario is this: There will come a day when my piggy bank will be cracked open, all those little slips of paper will be gone, and the only thing that will remain inside is that one initial deposit God made.

P.S. I read a lot of scripture now that I’ve read a hundred times before, but little words jump out at me that just knock me on my @#%! I love this one...

ROMANS 12:3 For by the grace given me I say to every one of you: Do not think of yourself more highly than you ought, but rather think of yourself with sober judgment, in accordance with the measure of faith God has given you.

Remember ~ it’s a gift! I am not an amazing woman of great faith; I am merely a child of God, blessed beyond belief.

Happy 4th of July! I’m off to the bank…

I read the news today...oh boy!

So in these days of unemployment, I am making the most of my time. I am familiarizing myself with the philosophies of Oprah and Dr. Phil, identifying with the losers of daytime television (the actors and the viewers), and make the occasional trip to the kitchen for a healthy diet of mac-n-cheese and Mt. Dew. Seriously, I’ve been writing furiously, but today I actually watched the news and found it quite amusing how truly gospel-worthy it was. As I mocked and pitied the people channel 7 deemed newsworthy, it suddenly occurred to me that I could’ve easily have been right there in front of the cameras too…along with all you other crazy Christian try-to-do-gooders. There is a little bit of each of us in the characters on the TV. I am the 11-year old boy scout lost in Yosemite who hid from his rescuers the first time around until he was exposed on a trail and returned to his loving family. Do I not hide from my rescuer until he exposes me and carries me home? I am the actor fleeing in my pretty white bronco from accusations of guilt, trying to outrun justice. Do I not lock myself inside a pretty white box claiming innocence? And I am the runaway bride trying to escape the pressure of my life. Have I not tried to outrun my own insecurities and fears and find refuge anywhere but here? Oh, I am so newsworthy!

And yet, God does not broadcast my imperfections to an unforgiving world. Rather, He gently embraces me and leads me back home. Ok, ok, so it doesn’t always play out that way. Kicking and screaming I protest…and I doubt…and I set my sights on disproving His love. My pastor likes to say this gospel is best served beaten. I like to take it one step further. Instead of mixing it with non-essentials and oversaturating it with complications, we should beat it…until it bleeds! Rip it to shreds (if we dare), question its validity, and beat it until we see nothing but the blood of Christ pouring over us every minute. Because that is exactly what He does. Christ’s blood may have been spilled at the cross, but it is washing us clean on a daily basis, in fact, every minute, and by no justification on our part. We are getting what we don’t deserve, grace and eternal life – deserving death, receiving breath.

We can certainly claim to be deserving, beyond reproach, and righteous, but in His eyes, our words are meaningless without faith and honesty before Him. In the parable of the two brothers (Matthew 21), a man asks his sons to go work in the vineyard. One says, “Sure thing, Pops” (ok, different words, same idea) and doesn’t end up going. The other says, “Beat it, Pops” and then changes his mind and goes out to work. I am so much of each of them; there’s a constant battle raging within. If my faith were a Miller Lite commercial, it’d read something along the lines of, “Talks great – less willing.” Part of me still struggles with my own ability to earn God’s favor and the other part doesn’t care to try at all. I wish I could succumb to the latter more often. I am so rebellious in nature. I don’t like to be told what to do, but when I am honest before God, He changes my heart for me (on occasion) and sometimes, my hands even produce good works. And when that happens, TO GOD BE THE GLORY! I don’t have to pretend to be worthy of His love. I need only to believe He is who He claims He is and without Him, I am beyond all hope. Gives ya that warm, fuzzy feeling, doesn’t it? Hey, I would venture to guess those nut-jobs on the news didn’t have that warm, fuzzy feeling either. Collectively, we have truly “lost that loving feeling,” but we do have a loving healing. We are being reconciled to our Heavenly Father.

Oh yes, I was all over the news today and I was not so pretty. Here’s what I see as our main malfunction: we need to stop playing “Hide and Seek” and start playing “Tag – you’re it!” Instead of trying to conceal our ugly parts, our scars and our wounds – the parts of us other people find repulsive – we need to start ripping off the band-aids and exposing ourselves (whoa, that might make the news, huh?). Seriously though, if we stopped avoiding the lepers and touched their scars once in a while, we wouldn’t be so quick to hide our own. It’d be an endless game of tag and everyone would be having so much more fun, cause at the end of the day, when the sun went down, we’d all be running toward the same dinner bell in the same house, seated at the same table, eating the same bread and drinking the same wine. And everything would be right with the world. Ok, enough daydreaming! Here’s the reality, it ain’t gonna happen, but a girl can dream, can’t she?

I’ll close with some brutal honesty and the reality of it all (as I see it). We are all backsliding day in and day out and yes, that does mean we are all walking back down the same road (of sin) we once traveled before we met Christ, but here’s the good news: the road has not changed. It’s still the Calvary road, we are still sinners, and Christ is still at the end with open arms. A friend at Bible Study tonight said it this way, “We are strong in His grace.” I am in complete agreement. We are weak in this place, but strong in His grace. I think that’s somewhat newsworthy, don't you? Move over Hour of Power, there's a new kid in town and it's called the gospel of saving grace!

Whose side are you on?

I went to four weddings last summer (yes, and a funeral too) and each time I sat on the bride’s side. I think for the most part, most people want to be on the bride’s side. Let’s face it; it’s her day. She is the one with all eyes on her, stunning in her wedding gown, beaming with anticipation. Here’s the problem I have with this scenario. In God’s family, I am the bride and sometimes I am my own worst enemy.

As I walk down the aisle, my eyes are on my groom, my Jesus. My future is in His hands. My home is with Him. My heart is under His supervision. If I were to scan the bride’s side, I’d likely see a lot of brokenness. There I would find the dysfunctional family to whom I belong. We are not flawless. We are not well put together. We are not of high standing, prestige, or elite society. But we are hopeful because we are marrying into a family of righteousness. My groom has chosen to call us His own and has vowed to remain true. In my desire to escape from the deceitfulness, falsehood, and façades of this life, it is comforting to know that as I stand here in my tarnished gown, I am walking toward someone who is anything but tarnished. I have been chosen by one unblemished and perfect in His love.

So though I am seated on the bride’s side at the moment, and it is comforting to know that I am a part of something real, I still find myself longing to cross the line and take a seat on the groom’s side. And when my wedding day has come and gone, I don’t think I’ll seal my gown up nice and tight to use at a later date. I think I’d rather count it a loss and trade it in for a robe.

Jesus had a little lamb (who looked a little lame)

Do you ever feel like you’re a sheep in wolves’ clothing? Yes, I said it as I meant it. I feel like that quite often these days. I know that I am God’s property, that I am a sheep–inwardly–but on the outside, I am much more of a wolf. We’re supposed to be clothed in humility, kindness, love, patience, and all things sugar and spice, but my wardrobe is riddled with everything contrary to that. So I won’t lie. I’ve been told before that my behavior and attitude is not reflective of a “Christian” lifestyle, that I don’t appear to be a follower of Jesus, that I sin too much to be a Christian. I object! Wasn’t Jesus followed by liars, thieves and even murderers? Didn’t they lurk in the shadows attempting to catch a fleeting glimpse of Him? To touch the hem of his clothes? To be healed? By worldly standards, these people did not appear to be cute, little, fluffy sheep; in fact, they appeared to be ugly, disdainful wolves. Nevertheless, they followed the shepherd; hence, they were His sheep. Sound familiar?

I’ve asked God several times, “You say they will know I am yours by the love I have for others and I don’t express that love very well, so how then will they truly know that I am yours? What do I tell them when they ask why I continue to live in sin? What do I tell them when they question my sincerity? What do I tell them when my faith is on shaky ground? What do I tell them when they call me a hypocrite? And what do I tell them when they want to know why horrible things keep happening to them?” The answer He gives me always seems to be the same, “You tell them that I love them.”

God loves you!

You Say It's Your Birthday

Today is my birthday and yes, in true Gemini form, I am again practicing tapping in to my fickle side. This is quite possibly one of the best birthdays I have ever had. It wasn’t about the gifts (though they were all ghetto fabulous and much appreciated). I did not age DOWN a year. I did not party like a rock star. But I have a loving family who knows just what I need and knows how to love my Jesus as purely as possible (for a dysfunctional lot such as us); I received my yearly phone call from my dad (just to check in and remind each other that despite our vast, vast differences, there is love nonetheless, in whatever form it expresses itself). I am greatly humbled in my need for financial help during this period of unemployment (though created by me, both precious and disturbing all at once – I have never written so much in my life); I am intensely aware of the phenomenal people my God has so blessed me with right now…to provide…to come through…to love me despite me…to show up. Needless to say, God and I are again, on speaking terms. Today, if only for one day, (ah hell, if only for one moment), I am happy to be loved by Him, honored to be called His daughter, and hopeful to meet Him again tomorrow. Ok, so my love for a good Zinfandel sometimes gets the best of me, but doesn’t a glass of wine just intensify what you are already feeling anyway? Long live the blood of Christ!

Bitter with Baggage Seeks Something Entirely Different

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs; ask yourself what makes you come alive. And then go and do that. Because what the world needs are people who have come alive." ~Harold Whitman

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what makes me come alive. Anger can be the greatest motivator. I’m feeling my “Calvary Road Rage” again. God and I are not on speaking terms (and He knows why). He is not my friend at the moment; He is the enemy and I’m pissed off. I guess anger is somewhat of my comfort zone. Anger does not make me come alive. Woe to my horribly plagued life and me! Ok, so maybe it’s validating to be angry and to curse this life, but here’s my bottom line: if you don’t confront that which terrifies you, you will never come alive. I think anger stems from a deep-seated fear within me, or rather, four hundred thousand deep-seated fears. I am afraid of failure, of vulnerability, of pain. Anger kills the fear…and everything else in my life. How then, do I push past the anger to make myself come alive?

Life will take me where I don’t want to go. I will enjoy the ride.
I will meet people I don’t like. I will find something good in them and celebrate it.
I will fall flat on my face from time to time. I will get back up.
People I love will not always love me back. I will love myself.
I will take 2nd place, 3rd and sometimes last. I will congratulate those who went before me.
I will gain weight, lose it, and gain it back. I will never be accused of being predictable.
I will be afraid of change. I will change.
I will forget all of the above quite often. I will remind myself to remember.
I will make a million bad decisions. I will make one good one…I will trust God (even when I'm mad at Him).

The Purpose-Driving Life

So, I’m pretty tired of trying to use my spiritual gifts of wisdom and discernment (hahahaha) to figure out what my purpose in God’s kingdom really is and to be honest, it’s turning out to be much more of a purpose DRIVING life. It’s driving me crazy. It’s driving me into the ground. And it might even be driving the nails into Jesus’ hands all over again. So maybe it’s time to accept that He already died at the cross, was resurrected and ascended. I don’t think He needs to repeat those acts for me to figure out my purpose in His kingdom. So here it is…accept it! My purpose is to accept His grace, His mercy and more importantly, His love.

Revelations 3:15-16 says, “I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot. I wish you were either one or the other! So, because you are lukewarm—neither hot nor cold—I am about to spit you out of my mouth.” Yikes! Good thing this isn’t an admonishment to work a little bit harder or we’d all be up a creek! I think it’s a little more along the lines of “need Jesus a little bit more, rely on Him to be all that you can’t be and trust in His purpose” and man, then you’ll be on fire for Jesus (the good kind of fire, not the eternal damnation kind).

Let me go one step further. We can all “do” marvelous and masterful things in the name of Jesus (which, essentially, is Jesus doing things in us for His name’s sake), but at the end of the day, we all get one denarus, the same wage; we all get Jesus! What we do pales in comparison to what God does through us, in us and often, in spite of us.

“So neither he who plants nor he who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow. The man who plants and the man who waters have one purpose, and each will be rewarded according to his own labor. For we are God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, God’s building” (1 Corinthians 3:7-9). We have one purpose – let God grow and flourish whatever we attempt to create.

So I’m not entirely hopeless and wholly devoted to a life of laziness and immobility. I will certainly not give up the hope that He might actually cause me to do some good in this lifetime. I will continue to believe in a system of right and wrong. I will occasionally even be nice to someone just for the heck of it. But what I won’t do is believe for one second that my “purpose” is more important than my reliance on His purpose. Philippians 2:13 states, “…for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose.” So I will do my best, try my hardest, and fight like Hell to allow His purpose to work in me. And when I’m trying to figure out where I fit into “ministry,” I’ll break it down like this: in my eyes, ministry is merely two words stuck together – minus + try. I’ll keep that in mind next time I’m trying really hard to figure out my purpose in God’s kingdom and just let His love be enough.

The Parenthetical God

How many times can I hear the phrase, “Don’t put God in a box” before I feel the need to set the box on fire altogether? I’ve spent too many years believing that if I had just prayed a little harder, believed a little more passionately and trusted a little bit more, my prayers would’ve been answered…my way! I’ve known some pretty faithful people in my life, many unemployed with hours to pray, some who were so filled with the Holy Spirit that they could actually forgive someone who had horribly wronged them, and even a few who were so passionate about God, they could actually speak in tongues. All of them removed God from the box and many times in their lives He came through. What then to the athlete who prays tirelessly for a victory and yet suffers the agony of defeat? What then to the grieving family who cries out day and night for healing for their loved one and yet loses a battle with cancer? What then to the widowed wife who pleads earnestly for forgiveness for the drunk driver who stole her husband and still burns with anger and resentment? Did they not remove God from the box too?

I’d love to share the message of a God who can do all things (and I do believe He can) with everyone I meet, but I find it so hard to do when I know so many whose prayers have not been answered their way. I’m not an idiot. I’ve been around the proverbial Christian block long enough to see the forest through the trees (at least in this area). I do know that God answers ALL prayers, but not always with the answer we are seeking. I know that though He is silent, He is not still. I know that only He knows what is best for us and acts accordingly in our lives. I know that we see dimly what He sees clearly. I know there is a big picture of which I see about a millionth of a millionth of a fraction of a millimeter. For those who receive the amazing answer to prayer they so desperately needed, there are an equal amount of prayers that seem to fall on deaf ears. And regarding those for whom the mountain does not move when they tell it to, there are countless requests that are honored, some without even asking. The sun shines on us all, good and bad. The rain falls on us all, good and bad. There is a silver lining to every cloud and a cloud to every silver lining. So is it the outcome of our prayers that really matters or is it something more? As the author of Ecclesiastes writes, “Everything under the sun is meaningless.” So maybe the focus needs to shift to what is beyond the sun. Maybe the focus should shift from what God will do in our lives to what God has done in our lives...He has loved us and does love us in the most profound way – to the heights of a cross, the depths of a grave and the width of outstretched arms.

So often, the message reads a little something like this: “If you trust God enough, if you ask in His name, if you pray fervent prayers, if you believe in His power, if you say to the mountain, ‘move,’ if you don’t put God in a box, He will come through (and by the way, He loves you). I think it’s time we forget about the box, take God out of the parentheses and begin each sentence with His love.

My God is not a parenthetical God. His love is not meant to be caged. It is not an afterthought to the message; it IS the message. Let’s be honest, I can ask relentlessly, whole-heartedly and passionately for something specific in my life and I may or may not get the answer I desire. But if the question is whether or not God loves me, the answer will always be the same. So why then would I go down an uncertain road when I can stick to what I know and always be right? Sometimes I feel like I’m the one in the box and believe me, I package it up really nice, complete with a bright red bow. And there is definitely not enough room in there for God, but at the end of the day, who cares if God’s in the box or not? As long as He isn’t in the parentheses, I’ll be alright!

The Benefit of Our Doubts

Why is it so difficult to simply trust? Why does it seem like I am the only one who “gets it?” Why does God always seem so far away? Why do I end up fighting with those to whom I am trying to speak love? Why does it seem so simple but yet so many are confused? Is it wrong for me to doubt? Do I really believe this?

I am sitting on the lap of my Abba, Father picking petals off a flower. “He loves me, He loves me not. He loves me, He loves me not.” And of course, as usual, the last petal is once again the one that taunts me, “He loves me not.” But before I can utter my usual protest, He interrupts me to offer these words of comfort, “The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of your God stands forever.” Make no mistake - the flowers will fall – more often than not leaving me with a bitter taste in my mouth and a lot of confusion. But the word of my God will stand forever and He said, “I love you” loud enough for all to hear…at the cross.