A Love Worth Loving

A few weeks ago, summer bloomed in Bozeman. The sun beckoned me to its warm embrace, & I answered. So did half of Bozeman! Perturbed at the quantity of people polluting my favorite haunts, I contemplated googling a new outdoor interest during the summer months since hiking is clearly the favored activity on a sunny day in these parts. But hike I did, and as usual, I observed correlations to my spiritual walk.

As I wove down the steep, loose gravel trail, I passed by a father & his two kids. I could see the older kid (10+/- years old) testing the bounds of freedom more boldly than her younger brother. Being an introvert, I cut through some trees to pass by the family without the obligatory "Hi, how are you" comments. As I meandered away, I overheard the father say firmly yet patiently to his daughter, "Stay right." She instantly retorted, "I am!"

I snickered to myself.

"No," he said. "I see you going down the center. You need to stay right."

I rolled my eyes. That's a kid who's gonna be on her butt crying & bleeding in the next five minutes...and it's her dad's fault for taking such young kids down this steep hillside.

It didn't take 5 minutes. No sooner had I passed by them than I heard, "Daddy, I can't stop." I shrugged it off. Her voice sounded as before - slightly disrespectful of her father's warnings, not comprehending the legitimate dangers posed by sliding rocks, fallen branches, short cliffs, and various other hazards. In fact, I assumed she was being a typical child - trying to scare her father just to be a brat. And then I heard her next exclamation. "Daddy! Daddy, I can't stop. DADDY!!!"

Her feet pounded the ground, completely out of control. She was in deep trouble. I braced myself on the trail and turned, intending to catch her if I could, or at the very least to stop her from falling into a tree or over a nearby drop-off. To my horror, she was not propelling down the path in my direction; rather, her motion cut across the path and down the grassy slope, at least 15 feet above me, directly toward the sharpest drop-off. I mentally prepared myself to help this young father deal with the wreckage that was about to happen. Would she fly from the cliff into one of the several trees below? Land on a fallen branch littering her pathway? Hit her head on a rock? I willed her to sit down, knowing it was her only chance to avoid serious injury. I caught sight of her father, barreling down the hill in a futile attempt to rescue his child. At the last possible moment - quite literally - she slipped and fell backwards onto her bottom. She slid and rolled onto a small fallen tree branch, but not with enough impact for serious injury.

The father fell as well, and once I realized she was going to be okay, I contemplated shoving him over the edge for having led his kids near a steep section of the hill. I waited a moment before asking him if he needed help, and then I moved on down the hill, quite annoyed at the failure of this father to protect his child. I began to realize, though, that the decisions leading up to this scary moment reflect a sad reality in many Christians' lives.

My desires often propel me at a heightened speed toward my goals. Like the little girl, my desires or goals may not be sinful in nature: she wanted to spend the first day of real sunny summer weather exploring with her father & brother. Nothing wrong with that! But she chose not to heed her daddy's voice or trust his judgment, and instead entered into a situation for which she was not ready,. How often have I allowed a desire - even a desire that God has told me He put in my heart - to direct my steps toward the path that I think is right, and that I think God should bless, all the while ignoring His gentle call to slow down, to take the path requiring a bit more patience (i.e. submission to His timing!) but producing much richer blessings in that I could obtain the goal without the unnecessary scars upon my heart?

I don't know how to explain God's voice to you. From my observations of both my own experiences and listening to others' testimonies, I am convinced that God speaks to His children in various ways. For me, He often speaks through metaphors or music. Sometimes those metaphors simmer for quite a while, as in this one from a couple months ago. I can't help but smile as tonight I understand the "foil" (sorry, can't resist the literary term) that God has wrapped around this snippet of my life's story. Hymns are my favorite worship music, and tonight this one began running through my head.

Take a few moments to read the poem ("How Deep the Father's Love for Us") & consider the love of a Father Who, being perfect, holy, righteous, just, and perfectly free to let us run ourselves off cliffs out of our self-focused rebellion against His guidance, without obligation or duty in & of itself to protect us from our self-imposed danger & pain, instead chose, in His sovereign & infinite grace, to humbly clothe Himself as a jar of clay and embrace the brutal cross so that He could reconcile to Himself His beloved child. What other Love would fling itself from glory to the depths of ignominy for me?

How deep the Father's love for us
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
And make a wretch His treasure
How great the pain of searing loss
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the Chosen One
Bring many sons to glory
Behold the man upon the cross
My sin upon His shoulder
Ashamed I hear my mocking voice
Call out among the scoffers
It was my sin that held Him there
Until it was accomplished
His dying breath has brought me life
I know that it is finished
I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
But I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection
Why should I gain from His reward
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom
Why should I gain from His reward
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom

Steadfast in God

I went for a drive & then a hike on Saturday and fell in love all over again. Truly, if a human can love land, I love Montana. However, I'd grown frustrated over the preceding couple weeks. Frustrated in practical circumstances; frustrated in spiritual surroundings. The first 3 months in Montana were certainly a honeymoon period. Things were new, fresh, exciting, and my perspective was full of hope for the future. I went back to Oregon for 3 weeks over the holidays to help an ailing grandparent & spend time with family and friends. I got to share all my fun stories and zest for life. Then I returned to Montana - without my Christ-centered girlfriends to whom I could bare my soul knowing that they would direct me back to Christ, without my family, and without all of the same routines I'd enjoyed in the first 3 months.

January ushered in multiple frustrations: financial stress, concern for the future, loneliness, and doubt. God had answered me time & again on so many things. Intimate moments with Him were exhilarating: He'd convicted me, comforted me, and refreshed me. Yet the spiritual intensity left me exhausted. While He had answered, and hearing His voice so clearly had reassured me, I desired a vacation from character growth. I'd spent a month trying to understand His ways, trying to find His reasoning, and questioning His methods. In a moment of frustration, I'd actually asked God to just write on my wall or make an animal speak because I clearly wasn't "getting it" and could really use a break from riddles. I'd also spent a month shrugging off a verse that kept trying to penetrate my mind: Isaiah 40:31.

I've discovered that being straightforward with God is the best policy for success, being as He already knows everything. So I headed to one of my favorite short trails where I go to seek Him. In the parking lot, I watched an old man prepare his gear for the hike. I walked by him, figuring I should get a good head start so that he wouldn't feel bad watching me disappear into the distance. The first section of the trail was covered in ice. I took a few tentative steps and was preparing to conquer the steepest icy section when, lo & behold, click click click behind me traipsed the little old man. Now, when I say "little old man," I quite literally mean small-framed & withered from at least 70 years on this planet. He was little, and he was old, and he blitzed by me. "It's sure icy!" he chuckled. "I brought my shoe claws but don't want to put them on yet!" And off he went. As I watched. While he disappeared into the distance. Little, old, and shaming me.

Head drooping, I figured I was already there and could use the calorie burn. I started climbing again, and immediately my feet slipped on the ice. I skidded a good 3-4 feet backward, instantly annoyed. It's bad enough being passed by a little old man, but to be incapable of traversing a 5 foot section of ice was ridiculous. I finally made it past that stretch, but my attitude quickly hit dire straits.

As I climbed, I pondered many things. For instance, stubbornness versus steadfastness. My mom always told me I was a stubborn child. She also always told me I was a compliant child. I believe what she meant is that externally I was very obedient, but my heart did not always coincide with my actions. I tended to fear disappointing my parents, and that fear shaped my outward behavior. Inside, however, I often held onto my perspectives. And in that moment on the trail, my perspective was that a little old man had already climbed 1/4 of a hill that I had barely begun. I dug in, stubbornly refusing to quit now. Who knew? Perhaps I could catch him and prove that I'm not utterly pathetic.

About halfway up the hill, I stopped & told God how tired I was. Spiritually, emotionally, mentally, I was simply exhausted. I expressed my fear that He doesn't have a plan for my life. I confessed that I am struggling with submission to Him - that I want to take the reins and show Him what needs to happen. And as I prayed, I watched the little old man prancing up the mountain, now mere feet from the top. No chance of catching him. No chance of proving youth's superior stamina. He smoked me.

From the corner of my eye, I spotted another motion, this time in the air. I looked up to the heavens and saw a bald eagle soaring - so beautiful, so alive, so free. No restraints held him back. Nothing constricted his flight. I laughed out loud, "That's so You, God." I had pushed aside the words of Isaiah 40:31 over & over, convincing myself that Isaiah had penned them for a situation completely different from my own and to apply them to my life was to pridefully elevate my life into an undeserved spiritual position. Well, if that eagle flying above me wasn't God's own hand writing the words of Isaiah on my heart, I don't know how much more blunt He could get.

And so I laughed out loud, enjoyed the moment with my Savior, and then returned focus to the hill. Something had changed, though. Not only was the path more difficult due to mud and steepness, but something inside me had changed. Whereas I'd slipped backwards on the ice in the beginning, I now leaned forward and dug my fingers into the earth, at times clawing my way forward on hands and feet. I steadfastly refused to lose ground, even if it meant bruising my knees or grinding mud into my fingernails to maintain my progress. I quit pausing to glance behind me. No more temptations to quit assaulted my mind. When I saw the tiny speck of the little old man bound across his last few feet of the ascent, I applauded his energy and passion for life.

God uses metaphors to encourage me quite often, and this experience was no different. The elderly gentleman had attired himself in winter gear, including walking sticks made for the purpose of scaling an icy mountain. He had packed "shoe clips" in case the walking sticks were not enough. He stuck to the narrow trail, aware that those before him had trod a reliable path. He didn't pause to look wistfully at the flat, easy parking lot below. He didn't slide backwards on icy patches. He didn't slip and fall on the muddy slopes. His experience had taught him how to approach obstacles, and his fervency carried him quickly up the hillside.

Conversely, I'd ventured out on my own, unprepared and relying on sheer will (stubbornness) to pull me through. I'd beheld the older man's preparedness with disdain. I slipped backwards in the beginning, and that failure rattled me. At times I didn't plan my steps ahead enough, resulting in an inability to discern the path due to mud and rocks. I bulldozed my own way, requiring more time & energy, until I relocated the path on which others had tread.

This attitude reflects our Christian walk oftentimes, I think. It's easy to compare ourselves with others in a negative sense - cataloging our appearances and progress. As young Christians especially, we can scorn the experience of elder generations, resulting in a loss of direction as we try to blaze our own trails. Even after years of following Christ, we can slip backwards into relying on emotional encounters or intellectual comprehension to pull us through the difficult times in life. Discouragement, frustration, and doubt tear our gaze from the path God sets before us. But as we grow in Christ, we become as the older man: dancing on hinds' feet on high places! We gird ourselves with truth, put on righteousness, shod our feet with peace, and take up the shield of faith. Just as the older man had grasped walking sticks to assist his climb, so also we should memorize and meditate on Scripture that we may be stabilized by the Holy Spirit's encouragement as we ascend over obstacles. We should give thanks for the examples of godly men & women before us, gleaning from their experiences.

The rest of my hike was joy-filled and included perching myself on a rocky outcrop to read Isaiah 40. Astounded, I read verses 27-31 and could only shake my head at myself. "Why do you say...'My way is hidden from the Lord...'?" These words echoed my heart's cry. Had I not expressed to God several times that my life felt insignificant, that I feared He had quit preparing a path for me to walk, that He was perhaps tired of hearing from me? I recall making a joke to my mom a couple weeks ago about having turned to my Bible so much lately that it was probably hiding from me under my bed!

But the Word of God says, "Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth" [you can't get mightier than that!] "does not become weary or tired." Moreover, God "gives strength to the weary" and "increases power" to those who lack. Isaiah says that "youths grow weary and tired, and vigorous young men stumble badly." Had I not just grown weary on the trail? Had I not stumbled badly - had I not slid backward on the ice?

Merriam-Webster's dictionary defines stubborn as "unreasonably or perversely unyielding; performed or carried on in an unyielding, obstinate, or persistent manner; difficult to handle, manage, or treat." Steadfast sounds similar, but it differs significantly. The dictionary defines it as "firmly fixed in place, not subject to change; firm in belief, determination, or adherence; loyal." In these definitions, we see that stubbornness consists either of foundationless immobility or movement without submission. Steadfast, then, is quite opposite: unmovable, but grounded upon a foundation.

My heart can be stubborn. Even though I may externally accord my behavior to God's word, this obedience sometimes merely disguises a heart that remains set upon its will. When I embarked upon the hike, I relied on my own abilities, largely rooted in stubbornness to not let the hill beat me. God corrected me and reminded me of a request that I've prayed for years now: that He would take what my fallen nature perverts into stubbornness and continually develop my personality, divinely designed by Him for a purpose, into a steadfast heart devotedly submitted to His glory.

I don't know God's specific plans for my life. I don't know how He will direct each step. But I do know that He promises, in more places than just Isaiah, that "those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary." God is good, and He does good. Experience teaches His children that He will allow us to feel pain as well as joy, frustration as well as ease, but He will always stand with us, providing fortitude amidst the trials and laughing with us on the mountaintops. I remain convinced that a heart steadfast for His purposes, a life submitted to His sovereignty, cannot fail to exceed every dream or hope imagined.

The Hidden Person of the Heart

Submission. Now that's a topic for a single woman to take head on! But I'm about to lean into the challenge. Not because I consider myself a master theologian. Not because I like how it feels all the time to submit. Rather, my heart is heavy for Christians - women and men, single and married - and I think it's time for people to stand up for Biblical truth even if it's not popular. And what I'm about to say is about as unpopular as a Republican in San Francisco

A lot of this post will be about submission, specifically in regards to being a wife. My disclaimer, of course, is that I'm not married. And neither are many females who I know & love - and who inspired this blog. I'm going to focus on submission as a wife, though, for 2 reasons: it's a huge issue in our post-modern society, and understanding God's design for "helpmating" should be the foundation on which we (single women) base our decisions for [potential] relationships.

In other words, understanding what God says about being a helpmate should inform our decision making process regarding the type of man to whom we pledge our life.

Have you ever read 'those Scriptures' that just left you confused, frustrated, and maybe even a wee irritated? For many, I Corinthians 7:8 has been one of those verses. God created marriage. He designed men & women to desire marriage. He blesses marriage. Marriage is beautiful, godly, and good. Why, then, does Paul say "to the unmarried and to the widows: it is good for them if they remain [single]"? In my experience, people rightly explain this passage by saying that when a person is single s/he can 'focus fully on God in their free time,' but then they depart from Scripture's focus and tend to give examples such as: "when a woman gets married, she has laundry to do, and cooking, and cleaning, and..."

And I already do that. I cook - and clean - and do laundry.

Paul is not talking about practical chores. Sure, men are (from what I hear) notorious for scattering dishes, missing the toilet bowl, and draping socks & skivvies halfway across the hamper (if they make it that far), so a wife's practical responsibilities do increase. Yet marriage's significance in a man's or woman's life far exceeds the monotonous household hubbub or bringing home the bacon.

Let's go back to the first husband & wife for a moment. Genesis 2 details God's creation of mankind. He said, "It is not good for the man to be alone" (2:18). He ushered each of the beasts & birds past His beloved man, granted Adam the privilege of naming each animal, but then noted that "there was not found a helper suitable for him" (2:20). God's solution? It wasn't to say, "Welp, them's the breaks! You're better off a-l-o-n-e anyway. Them females is jest trou...ble." No! God fashioned a specific helpmate for Adam. He created marriage, designed man to need a helpmate, fashioned woman to help man, and blessed the union.

Before turning from Genesis into the New Testament where I will attempt to thrash the liberal concepts of womanhood, femininity, equality, and marriage out of you, I want to discuss part of woman's curse. Genesis 3:16 reads, "To the woman He said...'Yet your desire shall be for your husband, and he shall rule over you.'" Yep, another oft-misunderstood, or vastly skipped, passage because people don't seem to want to face & deal with the tough stuff these days.

I've heard this verse interpreted as a wife's desire to usurp the husband's position of authority within marriage, and the husband responding harshly - with an iron fist, so to speak. I won't argue against this interpretation, but God spoke something to me through this verse a while back that reflects an unarguable weakness in women, and I think it actually supports the interpretation of usurpation.

Woman feels the need for constant reinforcement of love, perceived through receiving attention from man, and therefore constantly desires that his attention & focus remain on her. We seek to usurp God's rightful place as the focal point of man by drawing man's focus onto ourselves.


Yep, chicas, I called us on the carpet. Not because we can help being cursed, but because we can submit our emotions to our Creator and allow Him to direct our responses to our nature. In other words, we may have natural struggles, but we have supernatural help for disciplining ourselves & overcoming those struggles. We are not called to pull man's attention onto ourselves! And in regards to marriage, we are called, conversely, to call mankind's attention to God by reverencing our husbands.

Ahh, the time has come. My favorite passage about women, particularly wives, in the whole Bible! I Peter 3:1-6. For the sake of space, I'll only quote a selection:

"In like manner, you married women, be submissive to your own husbands [subordinate yourselves as being secondary to and dependent on them, and adapt yourselves to them], so that...they observe the pure and modest way in which you conduct yourselves, together with your reverence [for your husband; you are to feel for him all that reverence includes: to respect, defer to, revere him - to honor, esteem, appreciate, price, and, in the human sense, to adore him, that is, to admire, praise, be devoted to, deeply love, and enjoy your husband]. Let not yours be the [merely] external adorning...but let it be the inward adorning and beauty of the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible and unfading charm of a gentle and peaceful spirit, which [is not anxious or wrought up, but] is very precious in the sight of God."

Take a moment to process that.

No really, take a moment....and process the Word of God.

Marriage isn't a game. It's not a fairy tale. It's not a romance flic, or 'growing up and playing house.' Marriage is not a curse on those for whom God has fashioned a helpmate. Neither is it a blessing for those who rush forward in life, grasping in fear for a relationship in order to feel 'normal' and 'fulfilled.' It certainly isn't a state of being designed merely for mankind's pleasure.

Marriage is a union designed by God, for the purpose of glorifying God. For women, the role in marriage is simple: be a helpmate, fully submitted to your husband.

When Paul expresses his personal desire that all be like him, he doesn't mean that marriage is bad. (NOTE: Paul does not say, "God changed His mind - marriage is outmoded, terrible, awful. He's modernized, so we need to modernize with Him and eradicate this antiquated institution from society.) Paul was aware that being a "helpmate" is a spiritual call, not simply a practical transition from doing chores as a daughter to playing house with a lover.

As an unmarried woman, I do chores because I have to, but I'm free to devote all my spare time (time unconstrained by practical necessities like working, eating, and sleeping) to undivided worship of my Creator - prayer, fasting, singing, dancing, reading.... I can literally spend every available moment of every day doing nothing but focusing directly on God. I can volunteer my bountiful spare time to charities, or nursing homes, or schools. I can even put off some of the practical - with no negative impact on a husband or children - to spend more time with Him for a season.

As a wife, the spiritual expression of glorifying God is through submission and service to my husband. Our ministry, as women, is to our husband. We glorify God through counting ourselves as secondary to our husband - meeting his practical needs before our own, grooming ourselves to honor him (attractively & modestly), comporting ourselves in such a way as to externally demonstrate our reverence and adoring of our husbands, both privately & publicly.

In practical terms, we speak highly of him to our girlfriends - not tearing him down, complaining about all his bad habits, and wondering what we ever saw in him. We back him up in front of our children - even if we disagree with his decisions. We pack our bags and move if he says God is leading the family elsewhere - even if our emotions aren't convinced he's right. We enhance others' admiration of him through our behavior. And yes, ladies, we care for our appearance (not elaborately, but consciously) so that he doesn't have to be embarrassed by a slovenly bride whose disheveled looks reflect a habitually unkempt house.

This is not an affront to equality. This isn't an enslavement of womanhood to patriarchal concepts of femininity.

This is an external articulation of our spiritual relationship with a very real, and very holy, God. Submission isn't simply obedience: the outward conformance of behavior to rules & regulations. In genuine submission, obedience translates the internal humble compliance of the heart into a practical outpouring that testifies to Christ's work of salvation. As William Barclay explains in his study The Letters of James and Peter, "It is not a spineless submission that is meant, but rather...a 'voluntary selflessness'...based on the death of pride and the desire to serve. It is the submission not of fear but of perfect love."

I used to fear marriage because of submission; however, God spoke very clearly to me that just as submission of our will to Christ's brings freedom (redemption), so also 'relinquishing autonomy' to a man (submission) frees a wife to glorify Christ through her ministry to her husband. Through the complete abandonment of her individual rights, a woman is freed to serve her King.

This freedom through submission cannot be fully realized & appreciated, though, if we ignore the most crucial step: laying down our lives, hopes & dreams included, at the foot of the cross. If we have been crucified with Christ, if we have been ransomed by His holy blood, then we must not persist in demanding our way, our time. God does place a burden of action upon His children, but not in the sense of 'making things happen.'

Consider Mary, mother of Jesus. Francis Schaeffer describes Mary as a typical young Jewish girl, about 17-18 years old, and in love with Joseph. An angel visits her, announcing that she'll give birth as a virgin to the Savior of the world. Schaeffer suggests 3 possible responses to this news: heck no, heck yeah & I'm gonna make sure everything goes just right, or "Behold, the bondslave of the Lord; may it be done to me according to your word" (Luke 1:38). Mary's response illustrates what Schaeffer terms "active passivity." He states, "She took her own body, by choice, and put it into the hands of God to do the thing that he said he would do, and Jesus was born" (52). Mary's actions were not in her own will or strength. She submitted to God's will (active), but refrained from executing His plan in her own time or strength or according to her own dreams/concepts of how her future would progress (passivity).

Like Mary, many of us have ideas on how our future should go. But also like Mary, as adoptive heirs of the King, we are bondslaves. "We are in the same situation," Schaeffer encourages, "in that we have these great and thrilling promises we have been considering, and we are neither to think of ourselves as totally passive, as though we had no part in this, as though God had stopped dealing with us now as men; nor are we to think we can do it ourselves" (52-53). God knows our desires, our hopes, our fears. And so I plead with you, submit to God today...trust your Creator today...know that the God of Eve, Sarah, Hannah, Mary - that very same God - has a plan for your life. Hold out for the Abrahams, Boazes, and Josephs!

Knowing Amidst the Tempest

            Since moving to Montana, I’ve committed myself to exploring my natural surroundings every available weekend (weather permitting!). Today I ventured up Drinking Horse Mountain, a quick 1 mile jaunt up a hillside. Parts of the trail are steep and laborious, but multiple viewpoints reward the hiker who pauses to enjoy the journey rather than simply beeline to the top. I stopped a couple times, secretly appreciating the respite for my lungs, and allowed my senses to absorb the sights and sounds.

The final stretch of the trail is the steepest. I paused for a moment to catch my breath. That moment turned into one of those random pictures that God gives us of our spiritual journey. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the progress I’d made since my previous stop at one of the viewpoints. With my feet still pointing uphill, I looked over my shoulder to the path below. I thought to myself, “This must be why I love hiking: it’s an active metaphor for Christian living.” I stood with my feet planted in the direction I needed to move in order to obtain the final goal, but in my moment of catching my breath, I recalled the pauses along the path that had inspired me to continue my quest for the hilltop.

This past week has been tough. I especially miss my dad. We didn’t necessarily spend a lot of time together in Oregon, but he was ‘always there,’ and when we were together it was quality time. He’s a man I respect , and on whose wisdom I rely in many ways. I feel homesick, not for a place but for family. This leads to loneliness, and sometimes I slip into discouragement or frustration that God doesn’t change certain circumstances.  Then I end up battling guilt because God answered a prayer I’ve prayed for years (living in Montana), yet my desire for other areas to change means that leading me to Montana isn’t enough. Or condemnation sets in for not trusting God enough or being patient enough for the rest of my dreams or for His timing to be perfect.

Today I couldn’t escape the awareness that God had a significant piece of life’s puzzle that He wanted to put in its place. Since nobody else was on the hill at that moment, and my emotions were clouding my spiritual ears, I resigned myself to pacing like a crazy person, praying out loud, and singing until He accomplished what He wanted. Eventually I perched on a rock and turned my face toward heaven, closing my eyes. The Holy Spirit whispered a verse that I have always struggled with. Psalm 46:10, “Be still, and know that I am God….” I’ve never really been able to “be still,” so at first this verse frustrated me. (Can’t You speak any other verse, Holy Spirit?!) I kept my eyes closed and listened to the wind rush through the treetops around me. Picturing the words in my mind, I asked God to show me what He meant at that moment in that verse.

“Know.”

God instructs us to know that He is God. He doesn’t ask His followers to believe. He doesn’t suggest we try to have faith. He doesn’t say to feel assured. He says: “KNOW that I AM GOD.” How do we know anything? Unfortunately, as a product of a primarily postmodern education system, my mind works overtime trying to distinguish, ascertain, pinpoint, and dissect everything, often through questioning. I have been taught to doubt everything until it is proven. Separating this questioning of man’s philosophies from God’s Word is sometimes difficult for me.

But God has proven Himself. He provided us a written record of His acts, His character, and His will for mankind – both corporately and individually. He tells us Who He is. He reveals Who He is through what He has created, what He has done, and what He is doing. He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Our ability to recognize this Truth is provided by God’s grace in opening our spiritual eyes that we may see. We can know (recognize and understand) that He is God because “to [His children] it has been given to know the mystery of the kingdom of God…” (Mark 4:11).

I made the right decision to move to Montana, but it was also a step of faith, and I don’t think the enemy sits on his laurels when he sees us pressing deeper in the life of faith to which God has called us. I get the distinct impression that he reacts in precisely the opposite manner. God makes it abundantly clear that He is sovereign, and that we are to rely upon Him alone – for everything. Not that He doesn’t use people, but that people are merely a vehicle through which He disseminates grace and blessings.

Last night I wanted to turn off my alarm so that I could skip church, go for a hike, and then spend my day indulging in reading. I figured I could justify this by the fact that I’m reading a bunch of spiritual books right now. I sensed that acquiescing to my emotions would be giving a foothold to the enemy, though, and that I needed to drag myself to church, if for no other reason than to not give the enemy room to work in my mind and heart. Once there, I sat miserably in a chair, ridiculously insecure and plotting my escape as soon as the sermon was over. I ran out for a drink of water between the music and sermon, fully intending to avoid the awkward “say hello to someone near you” interval, but to little avail. Even sitting in my chair with a cup of water and not making eye contact, several people shoved a hand in my personal space, smiled, and said, “Good morning.”

As is typical of these types of Sundays, God used the message to encourage me at a time when I needed it most. The guest speaker, a pastor from Romania, preached from Matthew 8:23-27. This passage relates the story of Jesus sleeping in the boat when a tempest causes the fishermen (disciples) to fear for their lives. Jesus chastises His disciples for lack of faith, and then rebukes the wind and waves.  While the sermon wasn’t a newsflash by any means, the message was timely. The pastor reminded us to view stormy seasons in our lives through the correct lens. Basically: storms will come, the Holy Spirit will remind us of God’s promises, God has a purpose in storms, and Jesus goes through storms with us. The pastor used a simple analogy to sum up his message. A mouthful of flour or oil alone is distasteful, but a cook can take ingredients that, on their own, are unpleasant, and combine them into something sumptuous. So also God takes the storms of our lives and puts them together into something beautiful.

Loneliness is a tempest tossing many upon her angry waves. She respects no person: married or single, rich or poor, alone or surrounded by a multitude. We can take comfort in the fact that loneliness is a common experience within mankind, and as an emotion therefore subject to God’s sovereignty; however, I often succumb to the lie that I can avert loneliness by sheer will. I clinch my jaw, throw my shoulders back, and refuse to cry because there’s no crying in faith.

How wrong I am!

A few weeks ago, I faced a bout of loneliness. We stood 10 paces from each other, revolvers strapped to our sides, hands ready for the draw. Thinking I outsmarted Loneliness, I blasted away with my resolve to guard my heart and mind. I would not miss my family – they’re doing what God has called them to, and I’m a big girl. I would not succumb to the desire to be married – God obviously has other plans for me, so why bother wanting what He withholds. I would not consider myself alone, and therefore would not consider myself lonely – after all, I have Jesus! And so I shored up my heart, and I smugly asked Loneliness what she thought of her abilities to mess with me now.

Just one small problem…

I. I. I. I I I I.

After a few prideful days, I was miserable. Pride opened the door to so many other lies: God does not love me, I am forgotten, He has no plan for my life…. As I turned to Scriptures, God drew me back to Phil. 4:5-7, among other passages, “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” These 2 verses pack an amazing quantity of cud for gurgitation. Typically, I get so stuck on the 3^rd phrase (giving thanks in everything) that my mind stops absorbing the full message by the end.

This time around, the final phrase pounded my conscious: “…will guard your hearts and minds….” No doubt existed in my mind; no measure of pride remained. Clearly I had sinned at the inception of my battle with Loneliness. I had taken up my weapons in a defensive posture, and I had resolved to protect my heart and mind. But God’s Word says that God’s peace will guard my heart and mind through Christ. I had usurped God’s role, God’s responsibility, God’s position. My pride had elevated my significance in my perception of my spiritual battles.

The result of my pride, of my efforts to protect myself, became apparent. I did not guard my heart and my mind. I had hardened my heart and mind. I subconsciously shoved people away, believing that this would protect me. The impact went even deeper: I had allowed the enemy a platform from which he could batter my heart and mind with lies about God.

This week I struggled with loneliness once again. The initial ‘high’ from new surroundings dissipated. The physical separation from loved ones took its toll. The lack of a ‘pardner’ frustrated me. Yet this time around when I felt the darkness moving in, I prayed those words from Scripture: “God, please grant your peace to guard my heart and mind.” The sadness, the sense of loneliness, did not lift from my shoulders, but the burden’s weight slackened as our faithful Father responded to a heart and mind yielded to His ways.

“Be still, and KNOW….”

            

           God grants us the knowledge that He is God. This isn’t a one time ‘knowing.’ It isn’t a, “Now you know, so go have fun with life.” This is life: to be still, and know. We do not guard our own heart and mind from hurt, hope, loneliness, frustration, doubt. We do not enlighten our soul through our own effort. Our futile attempts at controlling ‘my’ life rupture the communication between our soul and our Savior, inhibiting His work in our lives. And we crash and burn.

Today I sought God’s presence within the serenity of His beautiful creation. My soul cried out to Him, and He answered. Just as I looked over my shoulder at my progress up Drinking Horse Mountain, so also I surveyed my spiritual journey. We are not to dwell morosely on the past, but memory provides perspective on how far God has brought us – and encouragement that if He can bring us thus far, how much farther He will lead us yet!

A Gentle & Quiet Spirit Submitted to God

On October 3, 2012, my mother illustrated to her two unmarried daughters the example of a godly wife. For those of you who know my mom, you know that family means the world to her. You also know that she did not want to move to Brazil, and she especially did not want to leave her daughters. I say my mom illustrated a godly wife on October 3, but that’s just because my parents boarded an airplane that day. The reality is, my mom spent several months prior to their flights preparing for a move that her emotions felt no deep desire to make.

My mom is the most gifted homemaker I know. She can transform a rundown, ramshackle building into a beautifully designed and decorated living space. She can also cook. And clean. And iron (which I will never be able to do!). I watched her balance these home duties with being a farmer’s wife for years, and then a pastor’s wife.  She spent hours of her day to commuting her children to and from school, sometimes driving as much as 1 hour each direction, twice a day. She has lived a life devoted to blessing her husband, children, and grandchildren.

One of my favorite things that my mom taught me how to do is cooking. Mom invested in my life as a young person, allowing me to venture into the kitchen, and sometimes even giving me a choice between helping to move pipe in the corn fields or making dinner for the family. She taught me the best chocolate chip cookie recipe in the world, and she continues to provide tips, advice, and encouragement in the kitchen. I don’t remember ever being criticized for making a “bad” meal. If anything, I somehow baked myself into the role of Dessert Queen in the family!

Mom is not a perfect human being. Difficult as it is to admit, I’m fairly awful a lot of times. Mom and I are similar in areas like taking pleasure in homemaking, feeling compassion for the suffering, and the ability to enjoy any activity as long as we’re with someone we care about. We also differ starkly in other areas. Overall, I tend to have more of my dad’s personality. Sometimes I focus on the differences between me and others, and as a result I’ve been pretty hard on my mom over the years. But this year I’ve seen qualities in my mother that I wish I’d perceived much earlier. I’m thankful that, even if nobody else reads my blog, my mom will be that faithful reader who always supports and loves her daughter so much that I could type “flying frisbee frypan” and she’d consider it worth a Nobel Prize!

I read through several books of the Bible this summer, and I’ve spent the last couple months re-reading them. As a verse jumps out, I highlight it and spend time (days, weeks) meditating on it. Most of the time, I’ve sensed a fairly instant understanding of what God desired to speak into my heart as I read and prayed. One verse, though, has ruminated for much longer than the others.

I Peter 3:4, “…rather let it be the hidden person of the heart, with the incorruptible beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is very precious in the sight of God.”

I struggled with this verse for a few months. I understand that submission to one’s husband is biblical, and ultimately reflects my submission to Christ. I comprehend that a woman’s true beauty is internal, not merely external. (Phew! Because “pony tail” is about as high tech as I can get with my hair!) What I couldn’t connect, and what I believe that God has been teaching me over the last couple years, is that through submission He works freedom.

God has spent a couple years radically chiseling on my character. He’s shown me so many things. My life goal should consist of one thing, and one thing alone: to glorify the One who created and redeemed me. My circumstances do not affect God’s call: circumstances affect only the practical ‘daily doings’ of the call. Not that the capacity for glorifying Him is something I can come up with. Even for performing the only task that matters, I am completely reliant upon His provision and grace! God has healed hurts and insecurities, resentments and fears. He has comforted, chastised, and blessed. His Spirit has instructed and revolutionized my heart, mind, and soul.

Thank God, I will never be finished learning and growing in Christ, either. The more God reveals to me about Himself, the more I become aware that I lack knowledge and understanding. God’s faithfulness to disclose His attributes and His desires for my life, though, generates a thirst in my soul to run ever deeper into my relationship with Him.

This verse in I Peter deserves much more extensive attention than I’m going to give it right now. If I get around to actually writing the whole book, I’ll expound upon the depths of these 29 words. They are amazing and inspiring, and I know that God is going to continue working these words into my heart over the years. I hope that He can use me to inspire other young women as well, in His time.

Our society has drifted far beyond the message that a woman does not have to submit to her husband. Society is violently bent upon demanding that women arise and take charge of the home, work place, and country. Bras have been burned, corsets shredded, and bonnets buried. Now the pitchforks are out, and women are hunting down anything male that implies “submission of the feminine.” We have largely emasculated men, beating them into a subservient role that seeks constantly to elevate the value of womanhood.

The reality is that according to the Word of God, women are valuable. Read Proverbs 31. Read about Sarah, Hannah, Ruth, Abigail, Esther, Deborah, Rahab, Mary, Lydia, or any other female among the host of godly women. These women were valuable to and valued by God. They also share another bond: they submitted to their husbands as a reflection of their submission to God, and through this divinely ordained submission He used the women to accomplish great things for His kingdom and for His people..

At creation, God imbued the feminine with incomparable value. He gave to woman a task that He gave not to man. He entrusted the wife with a calling designed to complement the mission of her husband. The question is not whether women have value if they submit to a man, but rather, what character does God value in His daughters? What good works does He desire to accomplish in my life, and what attitude do those works require?

The last few months, I’ve watched my mom exemplify a godly woman. I can think of no greater example than the massive garage sale, during which our family sold at least 30,000 of the 50,000 items my dad estimated we had accumulated. (Yuck. Less is more…more space, more sanity, more time, more mobility.) But among those items were treasures. Maybe not to me, maybe not to my dad, maybe not to anyone else…except to my mom. I watched her sort through her belongings, often making a painful decision to part with something she genuinely loved because she knew that she could only store so many things, and she could take even fewer to Brazil.

Now, this is an area where I differ a bit from my mom. I’m not overly sentimental about most things, and I really don’t like knick knacks. I enjoy ‘feminine’ hobbies, like cross stitching and baking. I simply prefer a sparser dwelling place than my mom (and most women). As I proceeded through my relocation, I threw away or burned more things than I could count. By the time I’d worked on the move for a couple weeks, I was so fried that I seriously contemplated just driving away, having staked a “please steal my junk” sign in the yard. I found things I’d saved from when I was a teenager, and I was mad at myself every time I had to unpack some stupid box of “collections.” Increasingly, I became determined to never accumulate that much stuff. Yet somehow, even when I got to Montana, I discovered more things to throw away.

This difference in our personalities is what opened my eyes to how amazing of a woman my mom has been these last few months. She takes great pleasure in finding the perfect decorative item to place on a cute shelf or side table. She rearranges things multiple times until she finds the perfect setting that displays the beauty of each item. She knows the perfect colors and perfect throw pillows and perfect everything to make a house her & my dad’s home. She packed things for Brazil that I couldn’t imagine taking, and yet it was the perfect decision for her because she needs that expression of who she is inside.

My mom made difficult, painful decisions of what to keep and what to get rid of. Right up until the last day, she was sorting, packing, rearranging, and weighing tubs and suitcases. It was a bit insane. All the while, I knew that on the inside my mom struggled with a significant lack of joy and desire to move. She was moving to another country for one reason, primarily: because in 1976, she took a vow in the eyes of God to love and submit to her husband, and this year her husband said they were called by God to move to Brazil.

Some people might think my mom is crazy for following her husband. Some people might say she drew the short straw in who she married. I say my mom is a living example to her daughters that a life of true freedom – spiritually, emotionally, and psychologically – is a life marked by a gentle and quiet spirit submitted to God. Because her perspective is eternity-minded, elevating the ministry to which God has called her (being a helpmate to my dad...and goodness knows he needs it!) above her own earthly concerns (her daughters, her sentimental mementos, her comforts), she is able to see the wondrous things that God continuously works in and around her.

Today, I am an unmarried woman. I do not have a husband to whom I offer my life as a helpmate. I’m quite aware that my extended habitation in “singlehood” has morphed me into an independent, intelligent woman capable of paying someone to repair things I can’t fix with duct tape. I’ve spent the last couple years afraid of marriage. “Marriage equates ‘losing autonomy.’ Marriage means making myself vulnerable to another human being. Marriage results in me relinquishing authority to a fallible human being, and trusting that man to lead me in love and wisdom toward God’s glorification in and through our marriage.”

A godly marriage will involve me submitting to my husband (ahem…with a good attitude), and this may require me to follow him down a path about which I do not feel certain. No guarantees about how many shoes I can own, whether or not I’ll get my 2 story farmhouse with a wrap-around porch, how many times I’ll have to move, or if I’ll ever own a horse. This submission is not enslavement, though. It is not “losing autonomy” in the negative connotation. Rather, submission in God’s design is a route to freedom wherein I can express my love for my Creator through fulfilling His calling upon my life as a wife: to be a helpmate to my husband. I will be free to watch God work in my life, and the life of my husband, and our life together, in ways that I never imagined He could.

Does this mean that I sit on my laurels until God puts a dude in my life? Quite the contrary! A gentle and quiet spirit is not required only of a wife. While I believe that God most likely will lead me into marriage one of these days, He clearly intends that I offer my life to Him – my heart & mind, dreams & plans – to His leading, and to do so relying on His faithfulness and provision, regardless of marital status. A gentle and quiet spirit signifies a heart submitted to God, ready and willing to do His bidding without being held back by fears, doubts, or anxieties. He daily grants me the opportunity to participate in His purpose by relinquishing the concerns of the world and embracing an eternal perspective. In the stillness of my soul, sitting at the feet of my Savior, I glorify my King.