Tag: authenticity

Facing My Inner Pharisee

 

In centuries past it was common for Christ followers to fast.

They fasted for many reasons:  to consecrate themselves for a task; to seek answers to prayer; observance of seasons on the church calendar; or for strength to overcome besetting sin.

Today, fasting has fallen out of favor in most western churches-deemed unnecessary or an attempt to gain favor with God by “works”.

That’s unfortunate.  

Because fasting has never been about making points with God, it’s been about removing self-reliance from our spiritual vocabulary.

It’s not about demonstrating personal fortitude or displaying self-righteousness, it’s about recognizing my weakness and desperate dependence on Christ.  

Perhaps the greatest hindrance to our work is our own imagined strength; and in fasting we learn what poor, weak creatures we are – dependent on a meal of meat for the little strength which we are so apt to lean upon.

~Hudson Taylor

Like the Pharisees, though, I am apt to make much of my “sacrifice” and little of Christ’s sufficiency.  I want to bargain with God and rise in the ranks of His favor because I’m so “good”.

It doesn’t work like that.  

I was almost to the end of a 40 day fast when Dominic was killed.

I am physically unable to fast 40 days consecutively so, for several years, I had done an every-other-day fast so that it equaled 40 days.

At some point in the first week after Dom ran ahead to heaven I remember crying out to God, “What exactly do You want from me??? I’ve done all that I know to do in an attempt to live up to Your expectations, and yet it is never enough!”

And (not then, certainly!) but at some point in the nearly 3 years since, He answered, “Your righteous acts are as filthy rags. The only sufficient sacrifice is My own Son’s blood.”

THAT was humbling.

Because even though I would have given the same answer to anyone else who thought they could “work” their way into God’s good graces, obviously the truth of it had not seeped into the fabric of my being.

I WAS trying to make points with God.  And I was angry He hadn’t taken that into consideration and spared me the pain of burying my son.

We often mock the Pharisees for thinking that “getting it right” means “being righteous”, but I understand the temptation to substitute acts of righteousness for relying on relationship through Jesus Christ.

The one means I am in control, the other means I have to follow and give up control.

If there is one thing I’ve learned through child loss that I cannot forget for even a millisecond is: I am NOT in control.

I am utterly dependent on Him for life, for breath, for saving AND sustaining grace.  

For it’s by God’s grace that you have been saved. You receive it through faith. It was not our plan or our effort. It is God’s gift, pure and simple. You didn’t earn it, not one of us did, so don’t go around bragging that you must have done something amazing.

Ephesians 2:8-9 VOICE

Fasting from food is relatively easy.  Fasting from my tendency toward self-righteousness is much harder.  

This year, as I observe Lent,

as I fast,

as I add in holy habits,

I am asking God to help me remember that I am not trying to win His favor,

I am making room to hear His heart.

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I’m Not Going to “Get Over” This

Think back on the most awful thing that has ever happened to you.

Does it still hurt?  Do you still carry scars from where it pierced your soul and broke your heart?

Can you forget it? Really, really forget it?  

Read the rest here:  When Will You Be Over This?

 

Repost: Surrender

“Follow Me,”  Jesus said to the twelve.

“Follow Me,” Jesus said to me when I was just a child.

“Yes,” I replied-not knowing or counting the cost. 

If it was a single commitment without opportunity for turning back then it would be easy.

But it’s not.  

Read the rest here:  Surrender

Repost: Exploding the Myth: God Doesn’t Give You More Than You Can Handle

You know, I don’t expect those outside the Body of Christ to have good theology-that’s like expecting me to be able to explain thermodynamics.  

Ain’t gonna happen-it’s outside my scope of understanding and practice.

I do expect those who have spent a lifetime reading Scripture, studying Sunday School lessons and listening to sermons to know better.

But many don’t.

Read the rest here:  Exploding the Myth: God Doesn’t Give You More Than You Can Handle

Rearview Mirror

I talk about Dominic “running ahead” but it feels like I‘m leaving him behind.

I know he’s the first to Heaven and I know I’ll join him, but my daily experience is that I am the one moving forward and he is the one stuck somewhere, unable to catch up.

I absolutely HATE that his footprint on my life grows smaller with each passing day, each new memory made without him, each event at which his smiling face makes no entrance.

I can’t stop the accumulation of bits and pieces that make it harder to spot his unique contribution to the collage of my life.

I am in no danger of forgetting him.

That’s not what I fear.

But bringing what he still is to me into a conversation, into view for others to see and appreciate is getting more difficult.

When I mention him, people don’t know whether to be sad or happy, question my sanity or rush past hoping I’ll change the subject.

There’s just no natural seque between the living and the dead.

And it hurts my heart to watch the gap grow wider.

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Good News

Reading through the Sermon on the Mount, it’s easy to feel defeated.  

Jesus ripped off the Pharisees’ masks. He gave people a peek behind the curtain-unveiling the sin that hid beneath a facade of outward obedience and seeming righteousness.

Jesus also strips away any pretense that I can follow the “rules”.  

Sure I may not murder anyone, but hate and malice-how am I supposed to get through this life without calling someone “fool”?

Line after line of impossible standards-righteousness that goes way beyond the Ten Commandments!

I am hopeless and helpless.  

Jesus makes just that point-on my own, in my own strength, dependent on my own efforts, I’m lost.

That’s what makes the Gospel the Good News!  

john-3-16

God in His mercy and grace has offered the only true hope–the righteousness of Christ, the Perfect Sacrifice and atonement for sin.  

When I walk into church and pretend I “have it altogether”, when I refuse to display my brokenness and my need for forgiveness, I obscure the beauty, value and truth of the Gospel. 

I raise a barrier between those who need rescue and the very means by which they may be saved.

brokenness-is-the-gospel

We are all broken.

We are all lost.  

Our only hope is Jesus.

May we be bold enough to be honest.  

 

 

 

Deflated

Backing up my rear tire hit the edge of a little stump and the sidewall blew out with a loud “whoosh”.

No fixing that.  No way to plug it or patch it or make it work for just a little longer.

That tire was toast.

I bought a new one.

But imagine if that wasn’t an option.  Imagine if I had to take the ripped apart shreds of what was left of that tire and cobble it together to make do.  Imagine if it barely held air, had to be pumped up each morning and needed attention every mile or so just to keep going.

That would be exhausting and enough to make you wonder if traveling anywhere was worth it.

That’s how my heart feels these past days.

When Dominic ran ahead to heaven it was like my heart exploded into a thousand tiny bits.  So many fragments with no way to put them back together.

fragile

But getting a new heart isn’t an option-I’m stuck with this broken one.

And I have to keep on going.  Even when it takes every ounce of energy to hold it together, even when I can barely make two steps without feeling like it’s going to fall apart again, even when I want to give up.

So today, and maybe tomorrow too, I’m going to just sit here.

I’m going to give myself permission to acknowledge that my heart is broken, I feel deflated and defeated and pushing through is not something I have to do if I don’t feel like I can.

ok to just breathe

I’m pretty sure the feeling will pass.

I’ll gather strength and manage to glue the bits back together in a day or two, add air and travel on.

I always do.

No Remedy

Our family has a reputation:  If it’s broke, sick or something just plain hard to do–call us.

We are not miracle workers but we are hard workers.  We can’t fix everything, but we will try to do something.  

But there’s one thing we can’t fix.

One thing none of our skills can shape into a victory in the shadow of defeat.  One thing that will not give in to elbow grease or commitment to persevere.

We can’t fix Dominic’s being gone.  

We can’t make it better.

We can’t undo the deep hole his absence has carved in our hearts and our lives.  

And that is very, very hard to live with.  

 

cant-fix-it-my-family-is-always-achingly-incomplete

I’m Only ONE Grieving Mama

I was reminded (again!) that when I share my journey, it may (and does!) look very different from another mama’s journey.

I really appreciate that reminder because I never, ever intend to speak for anyone but myself.

I write because it helps me wrangle my own thoughts, feelings, experiences and questions into some sort of reasonable order not because I think I’m documenting a generally applicable description of grief.

i-write-because-i-dont-know

Sometimes other moms have given me permission to share their thoughts and I try to indicate that by using quotes or a general heading.  And sometimes I have asked a question in our closed group and received permission to share insights gleaned from the answers to write a post  on a specific topic.

grief-is-as-individual-as-a-snowflake

My path through this Valley of the Shadow of Death is unique.

It is as unique as the son I buried, as the life I’ve lived previous to and since my loss, as my personal relationship with Jesus, as the weaknesses and strengths I bring to the task.

I have surviving children.  Not every grieving mother does.

My children are all adults. Many grieving mothers are in the midst of the busy child-rearing years.

I don’t have a career.  Other bereaved mothers must get up, get dressed and go to work every day.

I don’t have any grandchildren to cuddle but some mamas do.

I find silence helpful-solititude healing.  Others find silence frightening and feel abandoned.

I don’t want to be distracted from the work grief requires.  Some work hard to run away from the pain.

Scripture is my bedrock, laid down before Dominic ran ahead to heaven. Not all bereaved parents believe in Jesus nor use the Bible as their guide.

So take what’s helpful, leave what’s not.

be-yourself-no-one-is-better-qualified

And if you ever want to add to what I’ve written, leave a comment.  [REMEMBER these comments are PUBLIC.]

I have always envisioned these posts as conversation starters, not the final word.

My prayer for each bereaved parent who reads these words is that they will feel the Father’s loving arms around them, that He will flood their broken hearts with His grace and mercy. I ask that He give them strength for each new day and that He guide them toward His truth and give them hope.

Much love, my friends.

~Melanie

Repost: Stronger

There’s a common misconception about grief among those who have never experienced the loss of a close loved one.

It goes something like this:  The first few weeks, months and the first holidays celebrated without them are the hardest.  But once the bereaved make it through THOSE, things get EASIER.

I’m here to tell you that, at least for me, it’s just not true.

Read the rest here:  Stronger