thelifeididntchoose

Lenten Reflections: Relinquishing My Voice and Choosing Silent Meditation

We live in a noisy world. If we happen to be in a quiet place, we bring our noise boxes with us our pockets.

Does anyone go anywhere without their phone?

Connectivity invites us to constant interaction with others and only the rare, out of the way, unconnected corner leaves us to contemplate our own thoughts or our own feelings.

Yet we need to seek silence. We need to sit with our inner selves and reflect on the work of Christ in our hearts.

If the enemy forces us to give up quietness, we must not listen to him. For nothing is like quietness and abstinence from food. They combine to fight together against him. For they give keen insight to the inner eyes.
Abba Doulas, c. 3rd Century

Grief is brutal.

Dominic’s death and burial so closely following the pattern of Holy Week has led to superimposing my own experience on that of the disciples and Mary.

When Christ was declared truly dead, taken from the cross and laid in a borrowed grave it surely must have felt as if there was no hope. This Rabbi, this Miracle Worker, this Man of God who claimed to be the Son of God had not stopped evil men from wrongly accusing Him, wrongly convicting Him and wrongly putting Him to death.

I don’t have to imagine how that felt.

Dominic was killed late Friday night/early Saturday morning. Days of silent waiting filled the space between when I knew and when I could finally see his body.

If I could have filled that time with distracting noise I would have.

But there is no sound that can drown out grief.

I often imagine the company of those who loved Jesus sitting silent in a room together each with his or her own thoughts. What was there to say?

Today, Chole invites us to fast our voice-spoken and written-and to make space to hear our own thoughts as well as the still, small whisper of the Lord.

It’s no coincidence that communities honor the fallen with a moment of silence.

In that sacred silence we are drawn together and also forced to face our separate sense of loss, fear, hope-or lack of hope- and mortality. It is an exercise we frequently shun but should instead embrace.

Today I encourage you to sit in silence with your own loss, with the hope and light of the gospel, with the promise that every bad thing, every wicked thing, everything the enemy means for evil will one day be irrevocably and beautifully be undone and redeemed.

Have you ever been silenced by a painting, symphony or play? Have you ever been moved so deeply by an experience that words failed you and the only worthy offering was silence? In fasting our voice we are focusing-not remotely emptying-our minds to behold Jesus with love….Join the disciples today in beholding Jesus in His death.
Alicia Britt Chole

I Don’t Believe My Son Is My “Guardian Angel”

It’s really hard to wrap my mind around what exactly Dominic is doing now that he’s not here with me. Sometimes I try to create a narrative or a scene or a story line that gives me something to hold on to.

It’s not easy though.

So I absolutely understand why some parents think of their missing child as their “guardian angel”. But that just doesn’t correspond to what Scripture tells me about what happens after death.

I firmly believe that there is a heaven and that my son is there, in the presence of Jesus and the saints that have gone before.

Read the rest here: Is My Son My “Guardian Angel”?

Lenten Reflections: Choosing Reckless Love

I love, love, love the song “Reckless Love” but I have friends who find even the title offensive.

I tend not to get into debates with folks over things like that but this is one gauntlet I’m happy to bend down and pick up.

Because the word “reckless” has more than one meaning.

In this instance the lyrics don’t refer to crazy, undisciplined, random action but instead to abundant, overwhelming, extravagant action unrestrained by concern it may be rewarded in any way.

This is the love of God in Christ demonstrated by the cross and resurrection.

It was also the love shown by Joseph of Arimathea when he boldly petitioned Pilate for Jesus’ body, prepared it according to Jewish burial customs and placed it in his own (costly and newly hewn) tomb. By doing so he was declaring Jesus’ death an honorable one-an act that was akin to blasphemy or treason since Jesus had been labelled an enemy of God and of the Roman state.

It was totally reckless.

Joseph risked his reputation and possible his freedom to honor a dead man…Joseph of Arimathea gave Jesus his resting place. It was a treasured, costly space reserved for himself, but Joseph gifted it to Jesus. Further, Joseph gave this risk-laden treasure to Jesus at a time when Jesus could not-from Joseph’s perspective-do anything else for him.
Alicia Britt Chole

I’m ashamed to say that I often withhold love, help and encouragement from others because I deem them unworthy or I fear being taken advantage of. What if they can’t return the investment?

Without getting into a theological debate, Jesus’ sacrifice was and is sufficient for ALL sin. His blood was poured out without regard to merit (because for whom would He have then died?). His love IS reckless-abundant, overwhelming, extravagant-without concern for whether or not it will be reciprocated.

And this same love is poured out on me and can be poured out through me if I respond to the Spirit’s call.

So today’s fast is withholding.

What part of my heart or life am I withholding from the One who died to save me?

What gift has He extravagantly given that I am hoarding?

Where am I damming up His goodness, mercy, grace and love instead of pouring it out on others?

Joseph’s actions stir something within me: an ache possible too deep for words….Whatever part of me I have reserved for me-for my self-I long to give it away to Jesus. When we offer to Jesus the place we have reserved for ourselves, He surprises us by filling that space with His resurrected life. By offering his resting place to Jesus, Joseph transformed a tomb from a place of death for himself into a place of victory for his God.
Alicia Britt Chole

I’m Remembering, Not “Dwelling”

In the past six months I’ve been invited to tell my story in print and on air.
It’s been both a blessing and a curse as I realize that I’m far enough down this road for others to see me as a guide. It’s frightening to recognize the distance between the last time I saw and spoke to Dominic and this instant.
While others may grow tired of the same old photographs, the same old social media memories and the same old stories told by this mama who wants nothing more than to have new ones, it’s all I’ve got.
Believe me, I would trade my life for more.
❤ Melanie

When Dominic ran ahead to heaven, there was a sudden, horrible and unchangeable end to new experiences, to making any more memories, to another conversation, picture or text.

All I have of my son is whatever I had saved up to the moment of his accident.

And it is not enough.

It will never be enough to fill up the spaces of what my heart wishes I had.

He lived for nearly 24 years. But I can’t withdraw those memories like cash and “spend” them, day for day, for the next 24 years.

Read the rest here: “Don’t Dwell on That!”

Lenten Reflections: Proximity Does Not Equal Intimacy

Hey friend-I’ve been there.

Many of us who’ve spent decades in church can attest to filling a position because it answered a need deep inside of us rather than because of our love for Jesus.

It’s entirely possible to be near the things and people of God-even God Himself- and not be attentive to or aware of the Presence of Christ.

There were lots of folks around the cross.

Some were paid to be there-for the Roman guards it was just another day at work. Some were there against their will-the two thieves were going to be crucified somewhere it just happened to be next to the Son of God.

Some wished they weren’t there as they watched their son (Mary) and beloved rabbi (John) die. Some were just walking by and were either curious or not depending on their dispositions.

Today Chole invites me to think about where I am in relation to the cross-am I near but not listening?

Am I “doing” but not “loving”?

Is my body occupying a pew or a pulpit while my spirit is far away?

Paid to be close to Jesus: nearest and yet farthest away. The paycheck can change your perspective whether paid in cash or praise. The soldiers valued Jesus’ stuff more than His life. As they kept themselves busy around the cross, they numbed themselves to His voice.
Today, fast God-as-job. Whether your check comes from a church or not, consider ways in which you, too, may be near in body but absent in spirit, taking care of Jesus’ stuff but now attending to His voice. Proximity does not automate intimacy. Only love transforms “near” into “for”.
Alicia Britt Chole

Silence Serves No One Well

One of the reasons I write is to share my grief experience with others.

I realized when tossed into the ocean of sorrow that of all the things I had heard about or read about, surviving child loss was never mentioned.

Read the rest here: Silence Doesn’t Serve Anyone Well

Lenten Reflections: Fasting Criticism, Making Space for Grace

Chole identifies several groups that were in proximity to Jesus as He was dying on the cross.

Perhaps two people were silenced by grief or gently sobbing.

The others were taunting Him, mocking Him and reveling in His [apparent] inability to save Himself or be rescued by the Father He claimed close connection to.

They had no idea that His death was a last act of willing submission and laying aside of His power, position and possible retribution against those who had put Him there.

Love held Him to the cross-not nails or impotence.

So today I fast criticism.

I will fast judging others based on half-truths or even whole ones that cast them into a role other than as an image-bearer of our God.

Every single person I meet is bearing up under some kind of burden. Every face I see has an untold story behind the smile, frown, scowl or tears.

And every single human being is known and loved by the God who made them and the Savior who died to redeem them.

Today, fast criticism. From the clerk moving slowly to the homeless vet on the streets, consider carefully that Jesus knows them by name. Today, seek to know more, assume less, and air prayers for Jesus’ ‘least of these’ boldly in the presence of your shared Father God.
Alicia Britt Chole

**As promised, I am sharing thoughts on 40 DAYS OF DECREASE (a Lenten journal/devotional). If you choose to get and use the book yourself, I’ll be a day behind in sharing so as not to influence anyone else’s experience. **

Lenten Reflections: Fleeing From Willful Sin, Resting In God’s Love

I’ll just be completely honest here-there are some sins I don’t have much trouble avoiding. I’m not tempted to shoplift or physically harm others.

However, like all of us I have some pet sins I not only don’t avoid but I actually feed from time to time.

And like most folks, I justify my sin as “small” compared to the “big” sins of headline worthy wars or crimes or dastardly actions by those in power over those beneath them.

Why linger in the pain so many centuries after Christ’s resurrection?
Because it was real. Perhaps we would live differently if we remembered more frequently (and more accurately) what the cross cost.
Alicia Britt Chole

The thing is, any time I choose to willfully so something God has expressly forbidden I am sinning.

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus enlarged our understanding of sin to include thoughts and intentions of the heart even when our outward actions appear above board.

By this standard I fall short very often-sometimes by slipping into inadvertent sin but also sometimes by actively choosing that which momentarily satisfies my flesh but dishonors my Savior.

After Dom ran ahead to Heaven it was very, very hard to justify to my heart the benefits of continuing to walk the narrow path.

I was focused on what I thought was unfair and unkind-the death of my son-and found it difficult to focus on what I knew to be true-that God was all-loving and good.

‘It’s God who ought to suffer, not you and me,’ say those who bear a grudge against God for the unfairness of life. The curse word expresses it well: God be damned. And on that day, God was damned. The cross that held Jesus’ body, naked and marked with scars, exposed all the violence and injustice of this world. At once, the Cross revealed what kind of world we have and what kind of God we have: a world of gross unfairness, a God of sacrificial love.
Philip Yancey

Little by little, as I leaned heavily into His lovingkindness, mercy and grace, I once again could choose Willful Obedience.

Today’s challenge is to fast from willful sin.

To lay down my tendency to arrange sin in categories ranging from “acceptable” to “hell-worthy” which makes some OK and excusable.

May I be more aware of the cost Christ paid and choose to honor that sacrifice in my daily life.

Jesus died for our sin. Why then do we work to keep it alive? What benefit do we perceive ourselves receiving? Does that benefit outweigh the cost Christ paid? This is not a simplistic call to stop sinning. No, this is a sincere call for us to start loving Jesus to a degree that compels us to walk away from sin where we can and get help where we can’t.
Alicia Britt Chole

Lenten Reflections: Fasting “Adding” To The Sufficiency of Christ’s Sacrifice

I remember vividly the first time I read through the passage in Exodus 12 describing God’s instructions to the Israelites for the initial Passover.

The Lord impressed on my spirit that while the blood was necessary (sacrifice had to be made) it was obedience of each person to place themselves under that blood that saved them from the death angel.

They were spared because they believed and acted according to that belief, trusting God to do what He said He would do.

It’s the same with the blood of Christ-He is the sufficient Sacrifice and the full payment for sin.

For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect.
1 Peter 1:18-19

It can be hard to believe that over the long years life may include. It can be difficult to refrain from adding something else to the abundant gift of peace and victory over death Jesus offers.

His easy yoke and light burden are often weighed down by earthly desires and worries I’m not made to carry.

This whole season has been about laying things aside-attitudes, habits, incorrect theology.

Today’s fast is about taming desire and choosing simplicity (in some form or fashion). Try not to buy anything today (or even shop for something).

Jesus is enough. His shed blood was sufficient for our salvation. Adding to Him only distracts us….Jesus’ yoke is easy and His burden is light. (Matthew 11:29-30). Our additions are not.
Alicia Britt Chole

Try not to add anything to the perfect grace and mercy of our Lord.

Receive the fullness of a life lived like the sparrows-just today, only today.

The precious flow began before, not on, the cross. Jesus’ blood was shed at every point of rejection. Through fists and staffs and whips, Jesus’ blood fell in Caiaphas’s house and Pilate’s palace and every point in between.
Alicia Britt Chole

Lenten Reflections: Living Like Jesus Already Knows My Heart

I did not grow up in an ultra-religious family although we were most definitely Christian.

So unlike some of my friends, I didn’t have a bunch of rules surrounding lifestyle choices that are not explicitly addressed in Scripture (i.e. length of dresses, makeup/no makeup, movies, music, etc.). But one thing was definitely impressed on me: You didn’t take the name of the Lord in vain-not even with “softer” stand-ins like “dad gum it”.

By the time I had kids, I had done considerable Scripture study and managed to draw up a list of “do’s and don’ts” that might put the most strict holiness traditions to shame.

But something I’ve learned in the decades since is that whether or not I’m participating in mocking Jesus has more to do with my heart attitude than *just* my outward behavior.

Now it is absolutely a fact that my external, observable acts flow from internal, unobservable attitudes. But they are not always as congruent as one might like to think.

By an act of will, I can look holy while still harboring very unholy thoughts, beliefs and attitudes.

When I try to appear holy, act as if my omniscient, omnipresent God cannot see my heart and compare it to my outward appearance, I am mocking Jesus. I am making His sacrifice small-behaving as if my own sin is inconsequential.

It’s not a thought that comes naturally to me because I tend to justify and rationalize my own behavior.

But every single time I choose self over my Lord, I am mocking Him as surely as those who struck Him, called Him names and dared Him to come down from the cross.

Today, Chole invites us to consider all the ways we may join in on the acts that we read about and are grieved over-the many ways others mocked Jesus in His last hours.

Is it not odd in a generation that rarely blinks at fictional violence sold as ‘entertainment’ that we spend relatively little time considering the all-too-real suffering of our Savior?…Fast mocking Jesus? Who would ever do such a think in the first place? Perhaps we would when we, like Annas’ official are more concerned with saving face than honoring truth. Perhaps we would when we, like the religious leaders, act as though Jesus is blindfolded and cannot see what we are doing. Perhaps we would when we, like the guards, use one of Jesus’ names in vain. Perhaps we mock Him more than we know.
Alicia Britt Chole