Beauty

i don’t really want to get into the subject of wives submitting to husbands, or women submitting to men in the context of church leadership, but it has been on my mind lately…so here you go. Consider this from Peter:  “For this is the way the holy women of the past who put their hope in God used to make themselves beautiful.  They were submissive to their own husbands, like Sarah, who obeyed Abraham and called him her master.  You are her daughters if you do what is right and do not give way to fear.”

They made themselves beautiful by submitting to their husbands.

Sarah, the example, obeyed Abraham and called him her master.  She did what was right and did not give way to fear.

We should do the same.  End of story.

Wow.  Talk about unpopular.  This may be the least “shared” blog in the (short) history of blogging.  O well…here i am…not giving way to fear  .

While i could fill a lot of space with commentary on these verses, what strikes me every time i read them is Peter’s use of Sarah as the trendsetter of submission.  This was Holy Spirit-inspired genius.  Why?  Because no woman could “story top” Sarah’s adventurous marriage to Abraham.

Abraham was a man of great faith.  He was, after all, the father of a nation.  He is best known as the father of Isaac, the uncle of Lot, the one with whom God covenanted great blessing.  He was what we might call a “rock star” on the stage of Christian History.  Being married to him might have been like being married to Billy Graham (sorry Ruth).

But he is also the man who sent his bride into the harem of a king.  Twice.  Genesis 12 and Genesis 20 each recount Abraham’s fearful response as first an Egyptian pharaoh and then a neighboring king were enamored with the beauty of Sarah.  Both times, Abraham instructed Sarah to lie in order to protect himself…and both times she obeyed…and both times she was taken into the king’s household under false pretense.  Can you imagine????

And both times, God protected her.

Sarah obeyed Abraham.  She did not give way to fear.  She put her hope in God.  And God was faithful.

This is not a commentary on the actions of Abraham.  Clearly, God’s faithful care of Sarah does not mitigate his sin.  What’s important to note is Sarah’s trust --- not in Abraham, but in God.  Abraham would fail her.  But God would not.  Sarah knew that her responsibility was to put her hope in God, submit to the leadership of the man that God had given her, and wait.

In my sanctified imagination, i do wonder what kind of conversation precipitated Sarah’s obedience.  Surely she had some discussion with her husband about this strategy (especially the second time).  But i can’t imagine that their interaction resembled the sitcom marriages that we are so familiar with today…i don’t expect that Sarah ridiculed and belittled Abraham.  i know this because, in the end, she chose to submit to his plan.

And GOD did not fail.

Sisters, i know i’m treading on thin ice here.  i’m not advocating participating in sin.*  i don’t understand all of what happened in this ancient scenario.  i do not know WHAT ABRAHAM WAS THINKING or why God allowed this particular chain of events.  But i do know that the principles taken from God’s care of Sarah are applicable to our lives.

When i resist submitting to my husband (i know...you are stunned by that admission) --- or to my church leadership --- it’s mostly because i am afraid that he is wrong, and i (or someone i love) will suffer the consequences of his wrong-ness.  And the truth is that sometimes he is wrong.  And, sometimes, we do suffer.

But here’s what i know is always true:  God never fails me.  Never.  Even in my suffering, and in the suffering of those i love.  Even in the consequences of a not-so-great decision.

God has given me a husband who is not perfect. He is such a great man, but he is not perfect.  What i hang onto from Peter’s text is that i don’t have to 1) manage his imperfection or 2) be afraid of his failure.  i don't have to be passive aggressive...or manipulative.  i don't have to say "i told you so".  He can not be perfect and occasionally not be right and i do not have to be afraid.  i can honor him, obey him, and put my hope in God.

i think it’s interesting that Sarah is described in these Genesis passages as “a very beautiful woman”.  She certainly caught the eye of the royals in her day.  But i wonder if her beauty was genetic, or were these men seeing the beauty described by Peter?  The beauty of courageous submission.  Of hopeful confidence in God.  Of quiet, gentle strength.

In one week, my daughter will be married to a less-than-perfect-but-oh-so-awesome young man.  She has not had a very good example in me...but i'm trusting the Lord to grow her up into a woman like Sarah.  My prayer for her as a new bride is that she will put her hope in God.  Do what is right.  Not give way to fear.  She'll never make the cover of Vanity Fair, but her faith will flourish and her husband will be blessed.  Amen?



AN IMPORTANT NOTE!
*If you are being pressured to participate in sin, please seek wise counsel from a godly woman, a pastor or an elder!  Abraham and Sarah did not have the benefit of a church family...of community...to help them in these difficult and dicey circumstances.

Another important note...lesser, but important:
Sarah was also less-than-perfect.  Perhaps you will recall the sarcasm of her response to God's promise of a baby boy.  Just a sidebar.

i had a minor crisis of faith today.  i woke up to the sound of rain, with thunder in the not-so-distant background.  i can't prove it conclusively, but intuitively i'm pretty certain that i have not been awakened by an early morning rain in...i don't know, months?  But this morning, rain fell steadily from the moment i opened my eyes.

i'm not against rain.  i know we need it, and typically i love a rainy, thunderstormy morning.  (i know i'm stretching my language here.  Work with me.)  But today we had planned to host a church-wide "family picnic".  The operative word being "picnic".  Perhaps you're beginning to see my dilemma.  500 people planned to share fried chicken, potato salad, cole slaw, watermelon and banana pudding.  On the lawn.  Which, in itself, was daunting as the pitter-patter of raindrops greeted me first thing this morning.  But equally frustrating (ok, perhaps more frustrating...which will reveal how self-serving i really am) is the fact that our little team of hospitality folks typically meet people at their cars as they arrive for church to receive their contribution of "side dish" (said potato salad, slaw, watermelon....) for our picnic.  We had promised to meet them at their cars.  And today, we would do that in the rain.  UGH. 

My very first thought at the sound of the downpour outside my window was, "Seriously, Lord?  SERIOUSLY?  You have got to be kidding me!"  i huffed and puffed as i plowed through my closet for something to wear that was rain-worthy.  (You don't want to know what i ended up with.)  i sighed heavily, and repeatedly, as i dried my hair...which i knew was a waste of time (the drying -- not the sighing), but what's a girl to do?  i grudgingly greeted my sweet husband.  Whose birthday, by the way, was today.  

As i drove to church, i was really struggling with serious disappointment.  In the Lord.  i just didn't get it.  How could He possibly plan for this weather on this day to be for the good of His church?  For my good?  SERIOUSLY.  i thought about things like, maybe i didn't pray enough about this day.  Or maybe we hadn't sought the Lord about His desire for the day.  Or maybe He really didn't care about our picnic.  Or maybe He didn't care about my life at all (i know.  Extreme) ... i knew i was treading into deep water (pun intended).

By His great grace, i remembered, ever-so-briefly, what i learned from Psalm 73.  "Surely [without a doubt] God is good to Israel."  Asaph then goes on to describe an incident much like mine... And while his circumstances were much more dire than the probability of a wet hem, the threat to my faith was no less serious.  He describes an "embittered soul" and "brutish" demeanor toward God.  That's where i was headed.  If i've already said this somewhere, you'll have to forgive the repetition, but i will always love verses 16 & 17 of this psalm:  "when i thought how to understand this [the audacity of the rain on my picnic] it seemed to me a wearisome task [mostly because there is not a good answer to "why"] until i went into the sanctuary of God..." 

Until i went into the sanctuary.  Into the sanctuary.  What does that mean, exactly? 

Well, i think it does mean acutally going into the sanctuary.  Clearly, there is rich doctrine here about the significance of corporate worship for our personal walk with God (which, by the way is not personal mostly, but with people).  But that's a point for another post (and believe me, i'll get to that).  The interesting thing is that this morning, i did not have the luxury to wait until worship.  My crisis was in my heart and mind, in my car, several hours before worship.  And bitterness was creeping into my soul......

So i went into the sanctuary of Scripture.  It's what i had at the moment.  i started reciting every verse that i have committed to memory.  Out loud.  i didn't try to think up verses that i thought might apply specifically to this rainy day connundrum.  i started with Philippians 1 and 2.  (Don't be too impressed.  i've been working on memorizing Philippians for three years.  i'm halfway through chapter 2.)  After the parts of Philippians that i know, i repeated verses from the Old Testament and some from the New.  Verses about God.  Verses about worry.  Verses about sin, and prayer, and faith, and lack-of-faith.  Anything that i could think of to arrest the brutish thinking that would cause my "foot to slip". 

By the time i got to Starbucks (smile), my attitude had begun to shift.  Ever so slightly, but i knew that my perspective was better.  In the rain.  As i left Starbucks, venti iced tea/no water/no ice in hand, i rehearsed "Great is Thy Faithfulness".  With the windshield wipers keeping ryhthm.  "All i have needed, thy hand hath provided...Great is Thy Faithfulness, Lord unto me."   Phew.  Pitter-patter.  Pitter-patter.  Swoosh.....great is thy faithfulness, Lord.  Unto me.

When i met Chas to pick up the 600 pieces of fried chicken from Wal-Mart (Yes.  Wal-Mart fries a really good chicken.), the lady in the deli remarked, "You must have a large congregation!"  To which i replied, "Yes"  And then i decided to share with her my faith crisis (which is not really like me at all):  "When i woke up to the rain this morning, i thought, 'Seriously, Lord?  Today?" 

And then i heard the Holy Spirit from this sweet little deli lady say:  "That's alright, child.  That's His blessing rainin' down on your church today."

Indeed.  Out of the mouth of the deli lady.  And the Psalmist.

"Thy Word have i hid in my heart that i might not sin against Thee."
"Thy Word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path."
"In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word was God."
"If you love me, keep my commandments."
"If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish and it will be done for you."

Each of these truths were brought to bear on my faith as i watched the rain fall on our church picnic and struggled with my disappointment in God's plan for the day.  The Word preserved me from sin.  The Word helped me to think clearly and wisely.  The Word renewed my love and refreshed my soul.  Was this day perfect?  Not by a long shot.  But my faith grew today.  "As for me, my feet had almost stumbled...until i went into the Sanctuary... my flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." (Psalm 73...my newest memory verse.) 

The next time it rains on my parade (or my picnic), i hope i will not be so quick to forget.....

p.s.  the picnic went off without a hitch.  In the gym.  Sigh ...

i've been looking at pictures. It started with pictures of hannah for wedding projects, but at some point the children pulled out my old albums.  Blowing the dust off, they are alternately amused and aghast as they browse through my awkward adolescence, one photograph at a time. 

i remember a quote from a famous photographer, "A good snapshot stops a moment from running away."  They do that, don't they?  Moments...running away?  The older we get, the faster they run!  To be able to hang on to a few such moments, to preserve a glimpse of history, is more than an art form.  It is a treasure.

Well, usually.  Sometimes there's a picture included that makes me cringe.  i tell the kids, "i actually thought i looked awesome in that outfit!" And my hair?  We were discussing the era of bad perms today.  i'm probably dating myself, but i was at least in my early 20's before i gave up the dream of having hair like Cher.  i wish someone had loved me enough to urge me to let it go...

Fortunately, those snapshots are placed securely in their place on pages of my life.  While each picture captures a moment in time (sometimes to my chagrin), the real power of the picture is discovered as it is enjoyed in context, together with other snapshots from days, months and years on either side of the occasion.  They tell the story of a journey. 

If a snapshot falls out, it's like a piece of the puzzle is missing (which is why i have to somehow get all the pictures of hannah that i've removed for this wedding back into their rightful places!).  If it is not found, something crucial is mising.  Without each moment, the story is incomplete. 

On the other hand, setting a photograph on its own -- lifting it off the page to set solo on the mantel --- may lead to conclusions that are flawed, or at the very least, biased. That single pose is only one memory from a lifetime of moments, experiences, relationships and occasions. How grateful am i that my mother does not display a snapshot that captures the year of my teenage rebellion on her mantel?

Here's what's awesome about God.  "All things work together for good..."  All things.  Every single thing.  Every moment.  Every snapshot.  Every mistake, every dumb idea, every sorry decision.  God works them together for good.  It is a journey....and every single snapshot is important.  Every photo in the album that illustrates my life contributes something to the story of my journey with God. 

This is not a new thought for me.  It is one that has resonated for quite some time.  i'm just reminded today.  Every photo is important.  But it's import is discovered in the context of the whole album.  Any one picture, lifted out of context, does not represent the whole story.  There's always another snapshot, and another page.  And with every turn of the page, my deep desire is that my "likeness" is more and more conformed to Christ (Rom. 8:29).  That, in light of eternity, would be "good".

At least my hair looks better.....one can always hope.

Heritage

i've been thinking today about heritage.  Not my own, really, but my children's.  Both of my children will be married this year...we have already welcomed a new daughter into our family and, in just a few weeks, we'll have a second son.  It's very weird to have the door slamming shut on this chapter of motherhood.  Great.  But weird.  (Not that i'm no longer a mother...just that i'm no longer... well, i'm not sure what.  But it's different.)

Today was the first day of school for our Covenant Day* teachers.(i know it doesn't seem connected...hang with me.  i'm going somewhere with this.)  This morning, i had the privilege to be a guest at the worship service that began their year together.  As i looked around, i realized that at least two of the teachers that i saw in the room were students at this school with my children.  i don't know why that seems particularly special, but it does.  And the really unusual thing is that many of their teachers were in that room today, too.  Still teaching.  My children's classmates have returned to CDS to teach.  And the teachers who taught them have stayed there. 

Maybe not a big deal, but today i am really grateful and somewhat overwhelmed by the heritage that our family enjoys at Christ Covenant and CDS.  Our years as a part of this family have been less than perfect...and often painful.  We have been disappointed.  Our perspective has not always been full of faith.  But hindsight is such a sweet gift from the Lord.  Today, i am so committed to the theology of God's sovereignty in our lives, and i would not trade even one day of our history here.

These people taught my children to read.  Hannah had such a hard time with her multiplication tables in 3rd grade and Peggy Keifer never gave up on her.  Milas dreaded that 5th grade trip and Andrea Helmer convinced him that he could do it.  Hannah played trumpet. Milas played baseball.  They learned the catechism.  And every major theme from Scripture.  They sang worship songs.  They led worship.  Milas took a spiritual gifts class.  Hannah helped in the 4 year old ABC class with Cindy Reeder. 

It is incredible to me that at least two of the little girls who played jump rope with Hannah as kindergartners (i can still see her in her plaid jumper and red mary janes) will attend her wedding in just a few weeks. My mental scrapbook is full of pictures and themes that resonate with grace as i think about our years here as a family.  Again, not perfect.  But certainly a part of God's plan to prosper our family and to bless these children.

i am well aware that our story is somewhat unusual.  People don't stay put today.  They become disillusioned by the failure of teachers, leaders and peers...and they move on.  Hoping for something less disappointing.  i wonder if they find it? 

i know, too, that my own failure has affected people here.  Perhaps so much so that they have looked for friendship and family elsewhere.  i am sad about that...

Anyway, our having "stayed" for all of these years...20+?.... is not at all a tribute to our godliness.  It is a tribute to our God.  He has been so gracious and faithful.  It is His steadfast love that has held us and kept us.  And this heritage among His people is His gift to us.

This evening i'm just grateful.  My children, now becoming husbands and wives, are who they are in great part because of the heritage they enjoy.  I'm very aware ...

* this is the school that is a part of our church ministry

No longer stumped

It's Sunday.  And not just any Sunday...Communion Sunday.  i love Communion Sunday. 

You know, there were a lot of years when communion would roll around and i would honestly sit in the pew and think to myself:  "hmmm....what sin do i need to confess?  i'm not sure i can think of anything."  Really.  i really actually thought that. (i'm fairly sure i wrote those words in my journal one time when i was going through the ACTS prayer model...i was stumped on the "confess" stage.) i might come up with a few typical sins if i really tried.  Like the little issue that i have with pride. But i honestly believed that "coming to the Table" with my church family was more for them than for me.  

The past few years i've learned a thing or two about my own sin.  The first thing i've learned is that pride is not a "little issue".  It's actually quite pervasive and incredibly destructive.  If it was, actually, the "only" sin that i could come up with as i contemplated the sacrifice of the Living Savior on the cross, it would be enough to separate me from Him and send me to hell forever.  Staggering.

But the other thing that i've learned (surely there's a more profound word to use here other than "thing", but i can't think of it) is that the inclination of my soul is commonly, if not exclusively, toward sin.  Left to myself, i do not stretch Godward.  Not in my heart, or my mind, or my actions. i am self-protective. Self-promoting. Self-satisfying.  In short, i have made an idol out of myself. 

This plays out in my life in a dozen ways throughout every single day.  Just before getting to church this morning, the most important issue on my mind was what i would wear.  Seriously.  i'm almost 50.  Going to the church where i have been among family for more than 20 years, and i'm still wondering "what will people think of me if i wear that?".  (Issue No. 1 is why i think people even care what i wear...a notion that is in itself narcissitic.)  i am like a small child who says "Look at me! Look at me!"  AT CHURCH.  (Does this sound like pride to you?) Ugh.

Communion Sunday. The psalmist begged the Lord, "Search me, O God, and know my heart.  Test me and know my anxious thoughts.  See if there is any offensive way in me and lead me in the way everlasting."   i know there are offensive ways in me. A few years and a lot of heartache, and i'm no longer stumped by the "c" in ACTS*.  i'm painfully aware of my offensive ways.  And while, obviously, i don't have to wait on this particular day and time to deal with my sin before the Lord, i love that celebrating Communion leads me in the way everlasting.

One last thing :-) .  i love Communion Sunday with my brothers & sisters, at my church.  i love being served the "bread and wine" (aka crackers and juice) by men who have been willing to spend themselves on my behalf, to shepherd me and speak truth to me and pray for me.  i love that we are on this journey together, my brothers & sisters and me.  Our collective repentance knits our hearts together and brings glory to the Father.  The rhythm of this corporate celebration breathes life into my soul and fuels my walk with God.

i left church almost 12 hours ago and i'm still basking in the restored joy of my salvation and the fellowship of a meal shared with my family.  "Do this in remembrance of me..."  Sobering.  But so full of hope.

*If you are not familiar with the Christian-ease acronym for ACTS, no worries. It is a format for prayer that encourages us to express A-doration to God; C-onfess our sin; T-hank God and make S-upplication for our needs.  A little formulaic, but helpful none-the-less.  If you don't get stumped by the "c".

Psalm 73...o the riches...

i've been studying Psalm 73.  All summer.  Seriously, i have read and re-read those 28 verses several dozen times...and still, every time i read them, i learn something new.  i had thought that i would be "systematic" in my study, but instead i've just read the psalm most mornings and just asked the Lord to teach me what i need to know. (If you're following me on Twitter, sorry...this will be deja vu.)  And so i've been thinking about the goodness of the Lord, always.  And about the danger of comparing my journey to that of those around me.  i've learned about perspective, and about the descent into despair.  i've thought alot about how i define the "goodness of the Lord" --- not in my spiritual moments, but in my practical theology...in how i live and think and feel.  It has occurred to me that "what you see is not what you get", that the horizontal view is short-lived.  i've pondered the pathway to hope and joy in the midst of heartache...the pathway of worship.  i've reminded myself that God is not a vending machine...He does not owe me anything, no matter what i "insert" in the deposit slot.  i've thought alot about the things that i desire on earth besides Him, and what that's about.  Today i've been thinking about what it means to "enter the sanctuary".  Worship as a place and a posture.  i want so much to make the Lord God my refuge.  Every day.  At all times.  Here's my favorite verse:  "Nevertheless, i am continually with you; you hold my right hand."   How i love the Word.  If i only had these verses, i would never plumb the depths. Sigh. So grateful.