Living, while dying... or dying while living?

This may come as a bit of surprise to some (not to those who know me personally, of course) but I, Jamey, am not a very patient person.  I am not one who really thrives in disorganized environments.  In fact, chaos makes me cringe.  

Further, it tries my limited patience when I see those things which I have labored to organize, build, purchase, or otherwise acquire repeatedly trampled upon as if they were of no value.

So, try to imagine my struggle as I look upon the various foodstuffs which somehow manage to escape the kitchen and die in every corner of the house, the partially gnawed apples laid randomly upon the counter "saved for later", the multiple scars/scratches/markings on every stick of furniture, the deep grooves/dents/chips scattered over the floors, and nearly all the furniture/carpet/clothing we own sports sporting multiple cuts, spills, or stains.  

And that is just a partial list of the crimes committed against "my" worldly goods, but this is the universe I live in as Sandra and I attempt to bring to maturity seven little ones, many who seem to make it their daily task to bring as much entropy into the home as possible.  

Now, this is not to imply that my wife does anything less than a heroic job of balancing all the tasks that need doing in our house on a daily basis. She is remarkable at keeping order and I am thankful for the amazing home that she keeps.

This should instead be read as a commentary on the inherent difficulty of trying to push pudding up the wall, so to speak.  There is simply no way to keep all the holes in the dam plugged at the same time, particularly when certain state and social welfare agencies are actively poking more holes or unplugging the ones you have managed to patch, but I digress!  

You might think that I would have grown accustomed to a certain level of chaos after all these years, but let's just say that I am a bit of a slow learner.  I know that there is much to master when it comes to developing forbearance in the practice of self denial.  Perhaps that is why God has orchestrated my life in the manner he has.  

Perhaps...but I don't pretend to know God's plans any more than I can explain the origin of matter and energy that burst forth at the sound of His voice.  

God's ways are certainly way above my ways and I have learned that He does not always see fit to share the fullness of His mind with me. 

I have blogged previously about the dangers of self-glorification, as well as how I believe that self-centered thinking is becoming institutionalized in our country and is, in fact, undermining its very foundations.  

I don't want to rehash all those points again, however I think it is worth repeating my basic premise that unless we, as a nation, experience a revival of the concept of an absolute moral authority, to Whom we will one day given an account, I see no hope for reversing the rampant, unchecked self-serving behaviors epidemic in our society--behaviors that are born out of a desire to aggrandize the self by using any means necessary, including by using and discarding other people.

It is with this background that I wish to revisit my struggle with my greatest nemesis... me!  What has really surprised me was that the depth of my own selfishness has been most clearly revealed when I was trying to be most faithful!  

As you may already know, Sandra and I have long had a passion to try to follow God's command that his followers should assist orphans in need.

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world. James 1:27

The issues that we have encountered in our dealings with the foster care system  have been well documented in Sandra's previous writings and I encourage you to read them if you have not, but my point here is that one of my biggest disappointments has been the dawning recognition of the fact that trouble still comes upon God's people in this life, even as they endeavor to follow His will (oftentimes because they have chosen to do so).  

I would go so far as to assert the Biblical evidence is overwhelming that we should EXPECT pain as we truly follow God's will.  

This is so counter to my natural sense of "fairness" that every fiber of my being wrestles against it daily, if not moment to moment.  So I confess that when trials came as a natural outworking of providing a much needed refuge for young children who have been abandoned by their mother, it was a difficult pill to swallow.  

And I would dare say that I am not alone in this humanistic inclination.  You see, like many others, I am task oriented.  I like to see a job done.  

Put in your time, get a result!

I don't much care for having my efforts seemingly sucked down a black hole, never to return.  I don't like not having an endpoint.  However, I am beginning to understand, just a little, that this is exactly what I need to be willing to accept in order to be truly suited to God's purposes.  

If I "sacrifice" something of myself that is relatively easy to give, or use a part of my inherent skill set to accomplish a godly command, is that truly a sacrifice or act of service?  

Have I really given God all of me when it is only given on my own terms? 

Even if some "Christian" good comes, or that work achieves some productive or beautiful outcome, have I really understood Jesus' call on my life to deny myself, pick up my cross and follow Him?  (Luke 9:22-23)

The ways of God are, more often than we like, contrary to the wisdom of this world.  The truth is that God has little use for us until we have suffered some loss.  

This is the central message of the cross. Jesus was rejected by his own people, he suffered and died a miserable death at the hands of the ones he came to save, and yet through it all God used that event in history to accomplish the most ultimate good imaginable; the redemption of those very sinners who could in no way save themselves.  

So, if this is God's redemptive plan, as implemented by his own Son, why should I be exempt from this basic pattern of rejection, suffering, and redemption?  This central theme is seen over and over again in the Bible, and is the over-arching message of the Scriptures.  Joseph asserted the same idea to his brothers.  After they had sold him into slavery in Egypt, he became second in command in that nation--and then the very means by which those very same sons of Israel would be saved:  "You meant evil against me, but God meant it for good."  Genesis 50:20  

So what is the take home message for me (and you)?  Nancy Pearcey says it well: 

"Whether the suffering is physical or psychological, the way God brings us to see what we are really basing our life upon is to take it away.  When we lose our health or family or work or reputation, and our lives come crashing down and we feel lost and empty --- that's when we realize how much our sense of purpose and identity was actually bound up in those things.  That's why we have to be willing to let Him take them away.  We have to be "willing to die."    (Total Truth, page 359)  

She goes on to clarify that this perspective is not to be taken as some negativity filled rant against all of the possible pleasures or joys in this life.  There is a tension here.  We are to seek and strive for good things.  It is right to desire peace, to have love for the people and things of this world, to endeavor to avoid pain and suffering.  We are not meant to throw up our hands and reject all attachments in this world.  

However, when these things become our chief end, we have missed the ultimate point of being a Christ follower.  Our life is ultimately NOT consummated here.  This is not our final home, and we must be willing to hold all that we have here with an open hand.  This is the path to true peace and freedom, and is when we begin to be of use to God in the advancement of his kingdom.  

"We tend to have a limited concept of spiritual death as saying no only to things we want or covet -- our guilty pleasures and selfish ambitions.  But in reality, it means dying inwardly to whatever has control over us."   

"Whatever it is that controls you, that is what you must place on the altar to be slain.  Only then will we be released from our inner compulsions and be able to discover the freedom in which nothing but "the love of Christ controls us" (2 Cor 5:14)"    (Pearcey, Total Truth, page 360)

It is with no small measure of fear and trembling that I say that this is what I want for my life.  

For it is only through God's life filling my empty heart and hands that I can be truly freed to love the ones He has placed in my life.  That is what I need to remember in order to effectively serve those for whom I bear some measure of spiritual responsibility.  In God's strength alone I am able to approach the task of preparing them to be responsible members of our family, our church, and our community.  

I certainly know that my natural self is not inclined to do all that is needed to give to these little ones what they most desperately need--that is to be pointed clearly and persistently to their only true hope and Savior, Jesus Christ. 

Unfortunately, dying to the self is not a one time decision.  It must be reaffirmed daily.  The reason Christ says in Luke 9 that I must pick up my cross daily, is because I still struggle against my basic inclinations, and will do so as long as I live in this body.  

It is not intuitive to die to self, particularly when it sort of hurts.  However, it is undeniable that real relationships, with real meaning, and real depth, will always bring the risk of pain.  The alternative to this risk is an unacceptable numbing, or hardening, of the heart.  

I would rather die to myself and fully live, than live for myself and fully die. 

"Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken.  If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal.  Wrap it up carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness.  But in that casket -- safe, dark, motionless, airless -- it will change.  It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable.  The alternative to tragedy, or at least the risk of tragedy, is damnation."   C.S. Lewis (The Four Loves, underline is my emphasis)