Merry Christmas!

 As usual, my reach exceeded my grasp when it came to getting Christmas letters out.  For those whose letters are still sitting in a box on my desk, here is what you would have gotten!  It comes digitally with best wishes for a wonderful year, and hopes that 2015 will find me organized enough to get to the post office on time.  (One can always hope:)

Christmas Greetings!                  December 2014

                       

This week, Jamey and I celebrated our 20^th wedding anniversary.  To mark the occasion, we went back to Hillsdale College for a few days to walk around the campus and reminisce on our days there and all that has happened in our lives since then.  

 Oddly enough, we both felt as if the young boy and girl who met there on the volleyball court during exam week were strangers we once knew, or people we had observed for a while—not ourselves.  We are such different people now! 

  Neither of us could have predicted the journey we have taken through the birth or adoption of seven children, numerous moves and job changes, the joys of seeing our siblings marry and start families of their own, the sorrows of sickness and death in ones we love, and the stretching that comes from gradually realizing how little control we actually have over any of the events our lives.   

We have come to see that life is much less about arranging and controlling our circumstances, than it is about reacting well to them.  This is a good lesson, and we are glad to be learning it together!

            I hope this doesn’t seem like a melancholy start to a Christmas letter.  It isn’t intended to be!  I just think that it is beautiful how the good and the bad, and the planned and the unexpected, the seasons of joy and seasons of sadness can all be used as instruments of growth and change in our lives.  

 Neither Jamey nor I would change places with our younger selves, and although we have not loved every lesson the past two decades has taught us, we are grateful for the way God has used those years to help us know Him better.

One of the things that has stretched Jamey over the past seven years has been waiting…and waiting…and waiting for a partner for the pediatric side of his practice.   

Pediatric rheumatologists are as rare as hen’s teeth to begin with, and many larger practices in areas with much nicer weather have a tendency to snap them up quickly, so it has been very difficult to recruit someone to help relieve Jamey of his backlog of patients and the burden of continuous call.  But the wait is finally over!   Jamey’s new partner arrives this August, and we couldn’t be more thrilled about that.

I am continuing to homeschool, and this year the subjects range from phonics to philosophy!  I’m teaching the most school-age children in my experience, over the widest range of ages, which is fun and challenging at the same time.   

Kaiden especially has thrived being at home this year.  It was difficult for him to navigate the social pressures of a traditional school setting with all the complicated emotions he was working through due to his years in foster care.   

Now he is able to focus on academics in a safe, predictable setting, and we can satisfy his social needs in outside activities.  I feel so blessed to be able to give this gift to him!  He is really coming to peace with himself, and we are grateful for this milestone.

As a family, we are fresh off the drama of three years of foster care, which culminated in the adoption last December of our youngest two children—Kaiden and his sister, Keira.  

Many people assume that this type of closure would very quickly translate into a nice, new normalcy.  And it does--to some extent.  We have more peace.  We have a calmer schedule.  We have a less complicated rotation of upsetting people in the lives of our children, but we also have had the shock of taking a breath and realizing that this is now another life-long commitment, for better and for worse, no matter what that looks like for the next...forever.  

Now that everyone is starting to feel safe with one another, there are layers of resentment and hurt which are surfacing from older children whose needs were put on the back burner for a long, long time.   

For instance, one daughter told me recently that from time to time she wishes we were just "normal" because sometimes she gets tired of hearing about “extra patience” and “trauma backgrounds”, and sometimes she doesn't want to try to navigate any more out-of-proportion outbursts or patiently wait for developmental milestones to be reached.  In her words, it is "the kind of good thing that is also tiring and frustrating."   Well said!  

It doesn't help to tell her that some "normal" families have those issues too because it wouldn't change the road she is now walking.  In the process of helping our newest children discover what it means to be Birminghams, we are still uncovering pockets of uncertainty in their hearts. 

Sometimes there is anger, and there is the tricky dance of keeping their birth mom involved but not too involved, and a new half-sister they have never met.  (Should they spend time with her?  Will they grow confused if I allow too much access or resentful if I do not allow enough?  How do I know where those lines are?)

There is no instruction book for some of these issues!  We are grateful for the strong and loving support of our church, friends, and extended families on this journey, and for the constant reminders of our need for grace, patience, and forgiveness from one another and from God.  

Adoption isn't a happy ending.  It is a redemptive beginning to a sad ending.  It is a place of promise where the real work of love and commitment begins.  Most of all, it is a picture of God’s redemption of us, and that is what makes it beautiful!  Despite the challenges, we are so grateful for it!

Rebekah (age 19) and Christina (age 16) continue to bless our hearts with their cheerful spirits and their generous and gentle hearts.  Rebekah is in her second year of college, working toward a music therapy degree.   

Through word-of-mouth she has been able to earn a fairly steady income playing her harp at various private venues.  I am proud of the reputation she has gained among her professors, classmates, and employers.  Most of all, I am thankful for the sweet affection she lavishes on her brothers and sisters.  

Christina is in her junior year and a Challenge III student in the Classical Conversations program.  She has a million interests, among them being photography, furniture restoration, hair styling, drawing, writing, and music (she plays viola in the Grand Rapids Youth Symphony and dabbles in piano, saxophone, guitar, and flute for fun).  It will be fun to see where she takes those passions!  I am thankful for her work ethic and her interest in people and her inquisitive spirit.

Elijah (age 12), and Isaiah (age 9) are navigating that stage between the fun-and-games of childhood and the pull of manly adulthood.  Lately I have seen such a desire in Elijah to be a responsible young man, to do right, and to be honorable—and yet there is that temptation to take off and join the little boys in their fun and games. 

He is taking more pride in his school work and loves to spend the day with Jamey at the office whenever he can.  I am thankful for his sensitive heart (he isn’t so thrilled about it at this point, but someday he will be:) He has a tender heart toward animals and people, and more and more towards God as well.

Isaiah is bursting with ideas and energy and words.  He scavenges through trash bins looking for “things I can make other things with”.  He also can be found looking under beds and between couch cushions, combing the creek bed, and trolling the woods for “treasures”.   

Right now his bookshelf contains several elaborate Lego creations of his own design (instructions?  Never!), several empty plastic bottles, a tin can (which he keeps rescuing after I have personally thrown away at least three times), two corks, a cardboard tube, some toothpicks, and random scraps of paper and tinfoil folded into planes or boats.  

My dad brought down an ancient lawnmower for Isaiah to dismantle when the weather gets a little warmer.  I’m interested to see what he will make out of that!  I’m thankful for Isaiah’s sense of humor and his keen observations about life, as well as for his generous hugs and ready smile.

Kaiden and Jude (a.k.a. “The Twins”) are both seven years old right now, which means they are old enough to understand a most of what I explain to them (good), but still young enough to say hilarious things without meaning to (even better:).  I laugh at them regularly without them knowing it!  One recent drama involved Jude stomping in from outside resolving never to play football with Kaiden again.   

“You always tell me I get to run the ball first TOMORROW,” wailed Jude, “but I figured out that it is never going to be tomorrow.” 

“Yes it is!” replied Kaiden, “Tomorrow it will be tomorrow.”  

“Oh, OK,” said Jude with a thoughtful expression, “Last one out is a rockin’ egg!”

Problem solved!  And out they went:)  I am thankful for their camaraderie, for their interest in bugs and frogs and fish, for the opportunity to have them nestled up on either side of me every day, reading and being read to.

Keira (age 5) is breaking through her limitations right and left!  She is speaking more clearly all the time.  She is able to make letters and identify numbers and shapes and colors.   She loves to sing and dance and play with her brothers.  

 She talks about God all the time, thanking Him for every little thing (her prayers are long and VERY detailed!), and she has perfect faith in His ability to care for her—as she should!  (As we all should.)  I am thankful for her spunk and her sense of adventure.  I am thankful for her bright eyes and sweet smile and for her impish sense of humor.  

Above all, I am thankful for a God who leads us gently through trials and hardships and green pastures alike.  I am thankful for a God who loved us enough to enter in to our sorrows and fears, becoming a little baby, a sinless man, and eventually an innocent sacrifice in our place. 

He knows us and made Himself known to us!  That is the greatest gift we could ever hope to receive.  May you experience the joy of His presence in a fresh way this year.  

As always, our door is open for visits from family and friends (It is also usually left hanging open for escaping dogs, curious cats, and random wildlife as well, but that is another story;)  Please stop by and stay awhile!  

Blessings to you and yours!  Much love from all of us~~The Birminghams

******************

"For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.  For God did not send the Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through Him.…”  John 3:16-17

The Sinister Subtext of Pragmatic Sins

 I'm glad I have a conscience.  Really, I am.  

It's just that sometimes...it hurts me.  

Sometimes I'd like the gut punch to be just a wee bit softer.  Or quieter.  

Or set to music.

Or maybe dipped in chocolate.  Yes!  A chocolate-covered gut punch.  It could still be a solid hit, but at least I'd get to taste chocolate before I tasted blood. 

This struck me (no pun intended) the other day as I was purple-facing one of my children.  You know, when your child does something really, really bad, (I mean really, in-your-face, high handed, you've-known-better-since-you-were-two, bad) and you lunge forward and grab him by the lapels (or the hoodie) and stick your face down until it is inches from his face and go all purple.

Anyway, I was looking at the wide eyes of said child, and he was looking at the wide mouth of his mother, and I knew, knew, KNEW in that very second that this was not righteous anger, and that I was going to have some serious apologizing and repenting to do in my near future.  

But it had been such a hard day already, and I really just wanted to let 'er rip.  And then cry and eat chocolate.

And I couldn't.  Because right about then, my conscience delivered me a solid upper cut.

At the same time that everything inside me was rising up to justify my reaction, the truth spoke into my heart.  "Human anger does not achieve the righteousness God desires." (James 1:20)

My knees buckled, and I went down. 

Again. 

How hard it is sometimes to be scolded by the word of God when all you're trying to do is get a little heart to listen and see how wrong it has been!  How difficult to heed it when your own heart has been wounded and just wants to vent for a while.  

But how good.

It isn't as though I will get to heaven one day and watch my children march through the golden gates because of my selfish anger.  

Can you imagine such a thing?  "Yep.  I screamed that one in.  He was a hard case, but after 12 years of constant yelling, his heart was softened to the gospel, and well, here he is!

"And that one?  She required almost constant nagging.  Most days I was hoarse by the end, but eventually the endless stream of repetitive criticism captured her heart, and the rest is history.

"And then, of course there is the one I guilt-tripped in, and the one I shamed in, and the one I cold-shouldered in.  Not to mention the one I argued and cajoled in.  

"Honestly, I spent most of my life on earth weeping and gnashing my teeth so that they would never have to.  The burden!  The sleepless nights!  The gray hairs and vocal cord damage!  But all worth it now.  Good thing I was willing to make the sacrifice." 

Absurd.  Ludicrous.

And yet so often I treat parenting as if it is something I must do in my own strength, with my
own methods because I tried that "love, joy, peace, patience" stuff a thousand times and the kids are still punching each other, and the soft answer just isn't turning away the wrath, and the words aptly spoken are rolling away under the couch and being eaten by dust bunnies.  


Change isn't happening fast enough!  Hearts are hard.  Ears are deaf.  Clearly that means I need to take matters into my own...mouth..and express my frustration with the situation in a loud and abrasive manner.  

I can even point to results from my methods. 

Look!  Where once there were four boys ignoring my sweet requests for their immediate presence in the school room, now there are four boys with eyes like saucers scrambling up the stairs.  It works!

Except that God says it doesn't.  He is the mover of hearts.  He is the convicter of sin.  My only job is to look at Him and try to mirror His ways in all my interactions with other humans, including the small ones who call me "Mom".  

If He says, "Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone," (Colossians 4:6) then my conversation needs to be full of grace and seasoned with salt.

If He says, "Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen," (Ephesians 4:29) then I need to make my words wholesome and encouraging.

If He says, "Words from the mouth of the wise are gracious, but fools are consumed by their own lips," (Ecclesiastes 10:12) then I need to be sure I'm not setting random fires with my tongue.

And when He says, "But now you must also rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips," (Colossians 3:8) then I'd better not be trying to use those forbidden things to bring about righteous behavior in my children.  

Trying to solve a problem with sin never works--even if we were "driven to it" by desperation, frustration, or exhaustion.  

A recent lesson from 1 Samuel 13 brought this home to me.  Saul and his army were going up against the mighty Philistines.  You get the idea that he was feeling strong and invincible--chosen by God, anointed by Samuel, loved by the people.  How could he fail?  He had the trumpets blown throughout Israel, and men swarmed to his side...

...and then the Philistines started assembling to strike back.  And they were huge.  And they had three thousand chariots.  (Israel had none.)  And they were "as numerous as the sand on the seashore". (Israel had a few thousand men.)  And the Philistines had iron workers and swords and spears.  (Israel had two swords--one for Saul, and one for Jonathon.  Count 'em, two.)  

On top of that, Samuel was late arriving to consecrate the battle.  The only man who could authorize the required offerings to the Lord--the only man who could assure the Lord's victory, was LATE! 

Saul's men looked around, started figuring the odds, and headed for the hills.  

"When the Israelites saw that their situation was critical and that their army was hard pressed, they hid in caves and thickets, among the rocks, and in pits and cisterns." (1 Samuel 13:6)


How quickly Saul's confidence turned to despair!  His kingdom was in jeopardy.  His men were losing confidence and he was losing face.  It looked like he and his son were likely going to lose their very lives.  

The situation was desperate.

Saul allowed his circumstances to blind him, and in his panic his mind cast off every instruction and admonition of God.  He took up an authority which had not been given to him and sacrificed the burnt offerings himself.  (1 Samuel 13:9)

And lost his kingdom. (1 Samuel 13:14) 

Saul chose to see and act with human wisdom, and reaped the whirlwind. 

But then for a contrast, look at Jonathan!  After his father had sinned against God and lost most of the army (the Israelite army had dwindled to 600), the Philistines were still as strong as ever, and a detachment of their men were gathering on a cliff at Mikmash.  

Morale couldn't have been lower for Israel.  Circumstances could not have been more dire.

And Jonathon looked out over this bleak scenario and saw...God.

Jonathan said to his young armor-bearer, “Come, let’s go over to the outpost of those uncircumcised men. Perhaps the Lord will act in our behalf. Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving, whether by many or by few.” (1 Samuel 14:9)


Jonathon's faith in God was such that when he heard the (pretty scary) code words from the Philistines, ("Come up to us and we'll teach you a lesson!" vs.12) he didn't even look back, but ran headlong into the enemy camp. "In that first attack Jonathan and his armor-bearer killed some twenty men in an area of about half an acre.  Then panic struck the whole army—those in the camp and field, and those in the outposts and raiding parties—and the ground shook. It was a panic sent by God"  (1 Samuel 14:14-15) 

 And the end of the story?   

^"Then Saul and all his men assembled and went to the battle. They found the Philistines in total confusion, striking each other with their swords.  Those Hebrews who had previously been with the Philistines and had gone up with them to their camp went over to the Israelites who were with Saul and Jonathan. When all the Israelites who had hidden in the hill country of Ephraim heard that the Philistines were on the run, they joined the battle in hot pursuit. So on that day the Lord saved Israel."  (1 Samuel 14:20-23)

This is the truth that is so easy to forget in moments of frustration and desperation:  No matter how pragmatic, or sensible, or logical, or compelling it seems at the moment, it is never a good idea to circumvent God.  Sin never offers a real solution.  

It cannot be blessed, because God will not work at odds with Himself.

God isn't swayed by our weepy, after-the-fact rationales for doing wrong.  He doesn't give "panic passes" or "consequence clemency" just because we've chosen sin in a pinch.  

In fact, when we leap ahead of God and try to "fix" things with sinful actions or attitudes, we rob Him of an opportunity to show His power in our lives, build our faith, and demonstrate His love.  

If Saul had just waited instead of offering a forbidden sacrifice, how would God have worked on His behalf?  Would Saul have lost His kingdom?  Would his love for and trust in God have been strengthened?  Would the people have had a chance to see their king lead them in holiness?  

"Nothing can hinder the Lord from saving, whether by many or by few."  And this means we do not have to lie to our bosses, or fudge on our taxes, or manipulate our spouses with tears and pouting, or compromise on God's standards (or our vows) to find love, or take revenge on our enemies--or yell at our children,.

All we have to do is rest, and wait, and follow, and watch what the Lord does on our behalf.  

The outcomes may not be on our timetable, nor might they look the way we had planned.  There may be pain first, or years of uncertainty, or seemingly endless work to put in first, but He has promised that, "those who keep waiting for the LORD will renew their strength. Then they'll soar on wings like eagles; they'll run and not grow weary; they'll walk and not grow tired." (Isaiah 40:31)  

Really, God could not be any clearer on this point.  He packed the Bible full of stories of the unhappy endings of those who didn't love Him or trust Him well enough to do things His way. (See much of the Old Testament--and the New Testament)

He also packed the Bible with promises and encouragement for those whose eyes remain fixed on Him, no matter what they see around them.

"But the seed on good soil stands for those with a noble and good heart, who hear the word, retain it, and by persevering produce a crop."   (Luke 8:15)


"Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me. The one who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love them and show myself to them." John 14:21

Psalm 119:2  "Blessed are those who keep his testimonies, who seek him with their whole heart."

 “Why do you call me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I say? As for everyone who comes to me and hears my words and puts them into practice, I will show you what they are like. They are like a man building a house, who dug down deep and laid the foundation on rock. When a flood came, the torrent struck that house but could not shake it, because it was well built." (Luke 6:46-48)


"Oh that you had paid attention to my commandments! Then your peace would have been like a river, and your righteousness like the waves of the sea; your offspring would have been like the sand, and your descendants like its grains; their name would never be cut off or destroyed from before me.”  Isaiah 48:18-19

He also sets before us examples of those who "finished well" to encourage us to persevere.  
  
Hebrews 11:8-17  "By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going. By faith he went to live in the land of promise, as in a foreign land, living in tents with Isaac and Jacob, heirs with him of the same promise. For he was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God. By faith Sarah herself received power to conceive, even when she was past the age, since she considered him faithful who had promised. Therefore from one man, and him as good as dead, were born descendants as many as the stars of heaven and as many as the innumerable grains of sand by the seashore." 

"Therefore I do not run like someone running aimlessly; I do not fight like a boxer beating the air. No, I strike a blow to my body and make it my slave so that after I have preached to others, I myself will not be disqualified for the prize." 1 Corinthians 9:26-27

 "We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." (Paul in 2 Corinthians 10:5)

And to paint the ultimate picture of what submission in the face of darkness looks like, He sent us Jesus.

Jesus--who loved us enough to never cut a corner, never compromise a standard, never put His own will above the Father's in even the bleakest of circumstances--even up to a horrific death on the cross.

"Although He existed in the form of God, [He] did not regard equality with God as something to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.…" Philippians 2:7 

"For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me." (Words of Christ in John 6:38)

Matthew 26:39 "And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will.” 

He left us not only His example, but His word to warn us that EVERY sin carries heavy baggage.  Even "sin in a pinch".  

For example, my angry blow-up at my child may look on the surface like a impulsive and excusable lack of judgement, but it is really a statement about me and God.  It is a declaration of independence--an "I know you're God, but I know better" absence of submission.  

It demonstrates a lack of faith in His word and His ways, a throwing off of authority, and an unkind elevation of myself at the expense of another person.  

Likewise, Saul's unauthorized offerings were an arrogant and accusing finger in the face of God--a visible doubting of His promises, His love, and His ability to take care of His children.  
 
In other words, sins of desperation are a big deal to God and so they need to be a bigger deal to me.  

The good new is that although they are not excusable, they are forgivable!  

And though they are tempting, with God's help, they are not inevitable. 

1 Corinthians 10:13
No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.

The High Cost of Low Aim

I didn't want to write this blog.  I like pretending unpleasant topics don't exist.  Humming with my eyes closed and my fingers in my ears is much more fun than seeing something that is wrong or saying something that might make people mad.

But I have professed faith in Christ, and that comes with some obligations, one of which is to speak the truth in love.  

Let me begin by saying that this post is for other Christians.  It does not apply to those who have not identified with Christ and His teachings.  If you have not done that, then I cannot expect that you will agree with me and I would never judge you for that.  


My desire for all people is that they will one day come to know the peace of trading the weight of sin and guilt for the joy of forgiveness and son-ship through the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ.  If you care to explore that idea further, then I suggest reading this article.

Basically, there is no reason you should care what God thinks of your behavior if you don't know Him.  That has to happen first, because only once you really know Him can you LOVE Him--and then like with any person you love to distraction, the goal of pleasing Him and making Him happy will become paramount in your mind.  

Your whole existence will become framed in terms of finding out more about this great Savior, Lover, and Friend, and you will go about the business of arranging your world so as to achieve the greatest possible intimacy with Him.  

You will want to love Him back the way He loves you.  You will try to find out what pleases His heart and do it.  You will seek to know which things make Him sad and avoid them.  You will read about Him.  You will listen to Him.  You will talk with Him.  

From the moment you meet Him--and ever after as your knowledge of His goodness and justice and mercy deepens--His opinion of "the way things ought to be" will trump every other voice and you will not care a jot about how unpopular or weird that makes you in the eyes of the world.

Not everyone understands what I just said, but Friend, if you call yourself a Christian, you should.

But that is not happening as often as it ought.  There are some blogs and articles and Christian popsters who are getting all mushy on the basics of sin and holiness.  

I'm not talking about peripheral issues of personal conviction mentioned once or twice in Scripture and then debated around the edges for 600 years.

Or non-essentials that simmer and stew in academic settings and end up creating 31 different flavors of Baptist.

I'm talking about basic, undisputed-until-the-last-30-years foundational teachings about the permanence of marriage, the parameters of personal sexuality, the sacredness of life (both young and old), and the divine design for family which mirrors trinitarian love and stretches all the way back to creation.  

Christian!  Since when does "God wants me to be happy" trump what He has specifically forbidden you to do?

Child of God!  How can you appeal to your nature to justify a behavior or an impulse when you know that your heart is desperately wicked, prone to self-deception, and in constant need of re-direction?

Blood-bought Believer!  How do you dare wink and grin at sin in your life or the lives of others?

How do you willingly slide your hand into the iron grasp of the deceiver once you have tasted the freedom of forgiveness and the promise of new life?  

How could you encourage others to stay in bondage and blindness when you yourself have been delivered? 

And then call it love?

Let's apply the same test to some less controversial issues.  


Take one of mine, for instance.

I  happen to have a besetting sin.  Most of you are saying, "Amen, Sister!  You sure do, and it is about time you come clean about it."

Alright already.  I'm going to.  Sheesh! 

Anyway, I'm mostly talking to the people who don't know what it is--like my friends and family who live really far away and complete strangers.  

So, for a long time, I allowed this particular sin to romp through my life at will.  For a while, I claimed it as part of my personality type--which it is! Some call it a critical spirit. I liked to think of it as "brutally perceptive", and since I preferred to mix it with a dismissive attitude, arrogance, and a quick temper, it made me...let's say, "spicy".

In fact, I even considered this tendency to be a virtue at times, since it drove me to be excellent and to surround myself with other excellent people.   My thought was that those who were not committed to excellence, should be, and that by applying my keen powers of observation, my ability to cut to the heart of the matter, my precise use of language, and sometimes even my quick temper (or "passion", as I called it), I could mold people into better versions of themselves.  

Those unwilling to conform to my ways of thinking held very little interest for me.  They were irritating, stubborn, thick, and unworthy of my time.  I normally ended up brushing them out of my life like crumbs off a tablecloth.  

Then I got married--to a man with the exact same, very rare, personality type (What are the odds!  We are the 1%!), the exact same tendency to view the world with a sharp eye,  a sharp tongue, and a dismissive spirit.  And God chuckled because we sometimes disagreed strongly on things and yet, there we were, married.  No brushing off allowed.

And we realized that this critical spirit and the resulting anger at those who dared see things differently was no virtue.  It was a thorn bush combined with a flame thrower.  It was born of pride and arrogance.  It was lacking in grace.  It was not patient or forbearing, kind, or any other shade of loving. 

So we practiced developing patience with one another, practiced speaking kindly and trying to see the other one's point, forgave when we didn't want to, stayed in the conversation when we wanted to leave the room, considered the possibility that God was moving our hearts and perspectives at different speeds in different ways.

We practiced killing our own, inborn natures, for the benefit of one another, and because we were called to live--not a natural life, but a holy one.

It wasn't a one-time deal.  We didn't just decide to stop being tempted by our natural inclinations, but we found that the more we chose to obey and "live above", the easier it got to choose that path the next time.  Praying helped.  Accountability helped.  Progress was made.

Then we had children, and our tidy INFJ world exploded for real.  I love my children, but I will tell you one thing I have learned.  They don't care about my flawless logic.  Often they can't (or won't) follow my reasoning.  They can't be moved from frustrating to flawless in three easy steps.  

They also cannot be brushed off when I've "had enough".  They stay.  And they say the same wrong things, and do the same wrong things, and push the same wrong buttons day after day after day.

And God used and is using them to break me of my notions about the virtues of perfectionism,  critical eyes, and sharp words.  This may be the way I was born, these may be my particular temptations, but that doesn't mean I get to live there because as a Christian I am called to live against my nature.  

But wait!  I took the test and discovered that these are my natural inclinations!  1% of the rest of the world share these tendencies with me.  How could we be wrong?  We are just beautiful, exotic birds who flutter in the rare air of clarity about how right we are compared to everyone else!


Except that if I exercise this aspect of my "personality type" with my children, my friends, and my spouse, I will crush them and they will grow to despise me.  

And so I find that the God who designed me was right when He said, "Do nothing from rivalry or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men."  Philippians 2:3-7

Why am I surprised that my way, although natural, was ultimately unsatisfying and destructive?

I am called to die to myself and live in the power of Christ for the benefit of others and for the glory of His name.  I am called to worship God in holiness.  I am called to know His word and submit to it.  I am called to take up my cross (does this sound like happy talk?) and follow Him wherever He leads, whatever it costs me, even if it goes against my specific personality type and makes me uncomfortable.   

All Christians are called to this.  If you call yourself a Christian you may not read a passage that talks about  "considering others as better than yourself" and then go about demeaning others with proud eyes and vicious words.  No matter what your personality type is.

You may not read a passage that says, "thou shalt not steal" and help yourself to someone else's stuff.  Even if you really want it.

You cannot be commanded to care for the poor and insulate yourself in luxury.  Even if you enjoy it.


You cannot discover that "God hates a lie" and go about spreading slanderous gossip, or cheat your boss, or live a double life with your spouse.  Even if you love the power.


You can't be commanded to care for the widow and orphan in their distress and ignore their cries for help.  Even if it is easier.

You can't identify yourself as a Christ follower and then indulge your sexuality in any form other than that which He has blessed--in the marriage between one man and one woman as a picture of the perfect, pure union of Christ and His bride, the church.  Even if it feels good.

And this, I fear, is where the church is getting bogged down right now. The cultural cacophony is clouding its vision.  I am seeing Christians write and approve of blogs which condemn other believers for trying to hold to a standard for sexuality which is clearly spelled out in Scripture.

I understand the temptation.  Very few areas are so closely personal and powerful as human sexuality.  

But this deception shares roots with my pet sin of a critical spirit, and my child's pet sin of deception, and your boss' pet sin of greed, and your neighbor's pet sin of laziness.  

And your own pet sin. 

And actually, those roots go all the way back to the garden, where a serpent looks at a woman and asks, "Hath God said?"

Somehow, Christ-followers, we can look into the heart of God, we can see His love for us, we can experience His fellowship and still, still ask ourselves if He knows what He is doing.  

Has the God who designed all things made a mistake in this or that "one thing"?  Does He need my help correcting His oversight?  Do my tendencies, temptations, and proclivities have the right to rule over my Maker?    

Is He God, or am I?

If I am pushing Him off His throne then I'd better not be claiming His name.  

And if I am bowing before it, I'd better not be throwing up roadblocks to others who may want to join me.  That means not condoning sin in myself or in fellow believers.  

It also means not offering pursed lips and folded arms, epithets and cold shoulders to lost and searching souls all around us.  Yes, they were born with particular temptations.  So were you.  So was I.   Yes, God wants to help them overcome their besetting sins, but not until after they meet Him.  

So introduce them.  Hold out your hands, open your homes, put warmth in your voices and eyes.  They are image bearers. They were worth dying for.  Show them Who loves them like that, and let Him do the work of turning all the tiny shards and slivers of their lives into beauty--as He has your own.  

But don't, don't, don't bless the things that destroy them for the sake of seeming big-hearted.  

You wouldn't put sand into the gas-tank of a Maserati.  You wouldn't let one of your children try to live solely on a diet of TicTacs.  You wouldn't touch up a Rembrandt with a Sharpie.  

Likewise, you shouldn't pronounce good what God has called otherwise.  WE are His masterpieces.  He has designed us and knows us better than we know ourselves.  More than that, He has bought us back from our own folly.  If we claim His name, accept His gift, and expect His blessings, we MUST put ourselves under His care--and that means submitting to His authority, even against popular culture and human nature.

Again, I am offering this warning to myself as much as anyone else.  I know my powers of self-justification.  

All I can say is know Him better.  

Know Him so well that you will see deception before it overtakes you.

Know His word so intimately that it flows through your heart and mind all day.

Know yourself well enough to see your weaknesses and temptations.

Connect with His people so that when you are weak, they will not let you go.  

Because no impulse, habit, personality trait, or pet sin, can compare with the beauty of a life lived in surrendered, open, honest fellowship with Christ--on His terms.

*********

A Love Song

Psalm 119:33-40

Teach me, Lord, the way of your decrees,
    that I may follow it to the end. 

 Give me understanding, so that I may keep your law
    and obey it with all my heart.

Direct me in the path of your commands,
    for there I find delight. 

 Turn my heart toward your statutes
    and not toward selfish gain. 

 Turn my eyes away from worthless things;
    preserve my life according to your word. 

 Fulfill your promise to your servant,
    so that you may be feared.

Take away the disgrace I dread,
    for your laws are good. 

 How I long for your precepts!
    In your righteousness preserve my life.

 

Letter to My Daughters

Dear Daughters,

I bet you didn't know that I was praying for you when I went into the Mobil station to pay for our gas that Friday night.  You stayed in the car with your friends and I could see your laughing faces through the windshield as I walked in.  

I prayed with thankfulness that you still like to spend weekends with me.  I praised God that you have friends who would think it fun to attend a college symphony concert and friends who think it fun to play in one.  

We stopped for gas before we left the campus, and I prayed protection over you as you sat and waited for me in a dark car on a dark night in the city. 

There was a group of girls ahead of me in line. Students.  Someone's daughters.  Smart.  Confident.  Stylish.  And so beautiful.  They were polished and fragrant--living sculptures with their smooth skin and perfect nails and loose curls. 

And I wanted to cry. 

Because out of their mouths tumbled hard words-- ugly, hungry, desperate things.  They were brazen in their quest, naming names, setting up strategies for how and where and with whom they would end up that night.  Their eyes and their voices matched hard for hard, and I wondered at their lack of shame.  No whispers here.  No lowered eyes or blushes.  

And as if to provide a soundtrack for the moment, some little pop starlet came over the radio with this bit of encouragement,  "Yeah it's pretty clear, I ain't no size two. But I can shake it, shake it like I'm supposed to do. 'Cause I got that boom boom that all the boys chase.  All the right junk in all the right places."

And let's just say the song went downhill from there.


Funny how thoughts take so much less time than words.  I stood there for maybe five minutes, and it was time enough to imagine those girls as they might have been when they were nine--back when they still had enthusiastic brightness in their eyes and innocence in their smiles.  Back when they still had a sense of wonder.  

And I pondered the path they took that brought them here, still beautiful girls, but with no modest allure and no mysteries left to uncover.  Did they even know they were nakedly exposing themselves to me and everyone else in the gas station--body and soul hung out like cheap cuts of meat in an open market?  Did they even care?

What would their nine year old selves think of such a display?  

And then I thought is this the "progress" we women have settled for?  Is this sort of bawdy display now the pinnacle of female empowerment?  

Because it looked like prostitution, except worse since these little girls were just giving it away for nothing.  Not only to their casual hook-up partners, but to everyone who wants to eat them up with lustful eyes and foul thoughts as they slink and wiggle and bounce their pretty selves down the street.  

I prayed for you, Daughters, because if this is five minutes in a gas station, what is it for you on your college campus every day?   How can you stand against the parade of prurience that vomits out of radios and television screens, Kindle ads, movie theaters, magazines, and the faces of smart phones all over the city?  Or that which comes out of the mouths of brazen strangers in front of you at the gas station or in Walmart?
    
From the time you are old enough to care about how you look, there are teen magazines in every doctor's office and grocery store lane urging you to trade in your brain for a tube of lipstick and a pack of birth control pills.  

They are written by fork-tongued shrews who say that allowing your body to be romped on and then traded in somehow makes you powerful and deserving of respect.   

This is the same "forward thinking" crowd who wrings their hands over glass ceilings and oppressive male patriarchy and the dearth of females pursuing traditionally male roles and careers, then has the gall to turn around and pedal a smorgasbord of glossy teen magazines to impressionable little girls--magazines featuring starving models and pop stars who, incidentally, look like my Barbie collection AFTER my brother worked them over with safety scissors and a Sharpie.

So where in all of this confusion, is the "girl power" these sweet babies are supposed to be wielding?  How are they ever supposed to navigate this morass of mixed messages?

I am not a feminist, but I'm embarrassed for the ones that have to go to work every day and churn out the kind of cultural sewage that has pretty much destroyed an entire generation of sweet-faced youngsters.    

Take a peek at the offerings for our teen girls.  Here's "Teen Vogue" magazine.  Here's "Seventeen" magazine  Here's "Girls Life" magazine.  Here's a popular advice site for teen girls.

That doesn't even scratch the surface of the world's obsession with the surface.  Check out the top books and television shows marketed to teens.  Check out the music. ( I was going to provide links, but I don't want to give these sites more traffic than they already have.  Contact me if you want them.)

Good news, Ladies!   Maybe you didn't know this, but all you are required to know for success in life is what shade of eye shadow the stars are wearing and how to kiss a boy and what you "must have" in your college dorm room according to some Hollywood mogul's semi-famous freshman daughter Chloe.  

Really?

Is this what little girls are made of?  

What virtue is there in knowing what shoes to wear with which handbag?

How do kissing tips help a person develop strength and character?

If a girl is supposed to consume her thoughts with how to get the guy, and then learn sexy tricks for keeping the guy, and then figure out how to know if the guy is cheating, and then develop a strident narrative about how she doesn't need a man to complete her, what time is there for pursuing wisdom and truth and knowledge?  

Is this the pinnacle of achievement for young women these days?  Getting and keeping a guy?

Where are the big ideas?  History?  Philosophy?  Theology?

 Political discussions are there, but mainly limited to the womb--"women's issues" they call it (as if a walking uterus is all we are).  

The take home message is this:  "You empty-headed ninnies!  You vapid, human clothes-hangers!  Look!  We are selling shiny, slinky things that cost too much, look terrible on real people, and go out of style before they leave the runway.  Buy them or be pathetic.  

"And also you have full permission to sleep around indiscriminately and kill your babies--as long as you remember to look fashionable while you're doing it!

"But by gum, Girly!  If you have any leanings toward traditional marriage or motherhood, you'd best get yourself in line, lest you set back the grim and grisly progress of feminism. "

*******

My friend had a dream one night.  She was standing in a public bathroom stall.  It was small.

Tight.  And every inch of it was covered with oozing layers of human waste--the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the seat, the door--and she didn't even know where to put her hand to escape from the horror.  

She thought it was maybe her brain painting a picture for her of how we have to live for a little while here, and I think she was right.

It is just about the best description I have heard, and it captures the feeling of panic I get sometimes over realizing there how pervasive the lies have become...

...and yet I need to remember that the image bearers are not the enemy.  Those girls at the gas station are trapped in the bathroom stall too.  The trick is to help them see it.

Somewhere beneath the brassy exterior and the raised fist and the celebration of debasement, every wayward person bears the glory of the fingerprint of God.  

Sometime, either by accident or by choice, they have bought the lie that the way to freedom lies in servitude to sin.  

...That death can be a pathway to life.  

...That human pride and the cold, lonely worship of self is better than intimacy with the Divine.  

...That a lifetime spent stumbling from pain to hopelessness and back can compare to having a share in the perfect wholeness and healing that comes from surrender to a loving God.

...That fleeting nights spent in selfish arms of strangers could ever fill a heart like the tender embrace of the One who made us and pursues us with a perfect, pure passion.  

 I guess that is what I wish I could have said to those little girls, so I am saying it now.

Precious Ones, I don't know how one, old mama can hope to speak loud enough to be heard over the strident and seductive culture you are living in, but I am pleading with you.  Don't buy the lie.  

Remember the infinite price that was paid for you.  Your worth is far above rubies and it is not too much to expect to be treated as such by any young man who turns your head.  

Pray for your future husband.  He is possibly being hunted right now by roving packs of modern females of the wounded and desperate variety.  Pray for his protection and for yours.   Treat other men the way you would want him to be treated.  Wait for him, as you would want him to be waiting for you. 

Guard your eyes and ears.  The entire culture is screaming at you to live a life of compromise.  That will never stop.  Friends, Romans, and Countrymen will stand at your door calling evil good and good evil.  It is not a matter of hiding in the hills.  You are called to live in this time and place, so you will hear it.  You will see it.

But you don't have to invite destructive thinking into your heart.  You don't have to build it a nest.  You can engage it with the word of God, evaluate it with a discerning mind, discuss it with wise companions, sift it, weigh it, and then show evil the door.  

But remember you are also made of flesh, and it is only when you acknowledge your inherent weakness that you will seek out the Divine strength you need to overcome temptations, so keep grounded in the Word and on your knees. 


I've spoken long, and I am aware that sheer numbers of words do not have the power to change a human heart, so I will just leave mine here to be used or not used as God sees fit. 

If there is one thing that being a mother has taught me, it is that I am not as competent or powerful or wise as I thought I was.  It has been humbling, and has left me with white hairs on my head, white knees on my jeans, and white knuckles on the dashboard of life as I brace for whatever is coming around the bend.  

Whatever comes, I want you to know that as long as I live, I will be praying for you as I did that night--acknowledging that your lives are always in the hands of God even in the dark in the city.

Pleading with Him to turn your young hearts to His truth and light more each day.

And trusting in His ability to complete that which He has begun in you in His perfect timing and tenderness.

I love you,
Mom