One Friday afternoon, after we finished up a full day of school, the kids and I decided to make a run to the local Wal-Mart to purchase items for a gourmet dinner for two. We bought cream cheese, crab meat, and pita points; all the fixings for a fancy salad; bread; salmon steaks; two kinds of wine (red and white); two individual cheesecake slices; fresh flowers and white tapered candles. After we had collected all the food for the gourmet meal, the kids set about selecting the Lunchable of their choice. By the time we got home it was already 4:00. We had a lot to do in a short period of time, but we were pretty sure we could pull off the surprise before daddy got home at 6:00. We got the antique china and stemware down from the cabinet and dusted off two place settings. As I began to blend the cream cheese and the crab meat together to make the crab dip, my ten year old, started cutting up the vegetables for the fancy salad and neatly arranged them on the salad plates. My eight year old carefully sliced the bread and put butter slices on the butter dishes. My six year old took the lunchables up to the playroom and arranged them on the folding table with napkins and silverware. The four year old started to set the table, but then became distracted by the cartoons on the TV in the living room. So far so good.
The boys carefully arranged the bread dishes and salad plates on the table. After I got the salmon ready to saute in a white wine garlic sauce, I went upstairs to put on my favorite black dress, high heels, and red lipstick. The kids decided to change their clothes too. The boys dressed up like waiters, in white shirts and black pants. The girls put on their Easter dresses. We turned on some romantic music and lit the candles. My six year old carefully got the cheesecake out of the box and placed a slice on each dessert plate. Once slice might have fallen on the floor, but we didn't mention that to anyone. We took the crab dip out of the oven and placed the toasted pita points around the plate. The girls stood by the front window waiting for daddy's car to pull up in the driveway. When it did, they squealed with excitement and peered out of the garage door waiting for him to get out of his car.
When he walked up the garage steps, they asked him to lean over so they could cover his eyes with their hands. They carefully escorted him up the back stairs so he couldn't see the surprise. "Patiently," the girls waited outside his bedroom door as he washed up after his long day. After he finished, they each took him by the hand and escorted him downstairs to the candle lit dining room, soft music playing. They carefully led him to his seat, and when he sat down, they placed the cloth napkin in his lap. Shortly afterward, they brought me in with a sly little grin on my face. He told me how beautiful I was and how marvelous the dining room looked. He even remarked about the flowers placed in the vase in the middle of the table.
After a few minutes of chatting, one of the handsome waiters walked in the room with a white napkin draped over his arm and handed his daddy a menu. My husband noticed our favorite appetizer on the menu, and asked if we could try that. Within a few seconds the appetizer was placed before us and the waiter asked if we would like some water in our cups. Two giggling girls came in and asked if we needed anything. I told them, "We are fine, you can go upstairs and eat your lunchables now." Without a moments hesitation, they were upstairs eating. The boys took turns bringing in each course of our meal while the girls came giggling downstairs at intervals to ask us if we needed anything. We asked for napkins or bread and they ran to get what we needed and then ran back upstairs. When one of our waiters brought in the dessert, I asked him to start the movie for the girls, so we could talk in peace. After the movie had begun, we moved into the living room with our wine glasses and chatted, reconnecting after a long week.
This date night, one of the first of many, remains a potent illustration in my mind of all the significant benefits of making a priority of dating in our marriage relationship. Not only did my husband feel loved and special, but our kids were able to participate in the excitement of a special date between a husband and a wife. When I have guilt feelings leaving the kids home with a pizza while I enjoy a nice dinner, I have been able to look back on that night and see that I am not only building my marriage, but I am also helping our kids to begin to build their marriages, even before they are married. My husband deserves the credit for keeping this a priority in our marriage.
Since the beginning of our marriage, my husband has been diligent about pursuing me. I tend to be more reserved and hidden with my emotions. [These are just code words for the true fact that I am afraid of showing my emotions because I might get hurt.] My reserved nature has not stopped my husband, however. He has taken the time over the years to slowly peal away the layers of pain, fear, and pride, by confronting me, loving me, and pursuing me even when I have been obstinate and have tried to reject his attempts. He has done this by connecting with me each night after dinner and each week on our date night.
From the time our kids were babies, we tried to make a point to eat dinner together as a family. After finishing the meal, my husband made sure we spent at least 15 or 20 minutes each night connecting without interruption from our little ones. At first, it was hard for our kids to understand what "without interruption" meant, but after several nights of interruptions they finally got the message. I can distinctly remember my husband telling the kids, "If you don't see blood, then it isn't a good reason to interrupt us." At first it was hard for me to push aside the guilt of not attending to their needs (which were actually just wants). But after 17 years of connecting with my husband each night, I am thankful for the closeness that I have with him, and I am thankful for the message that it has sent to our kids. They know we love each other and they feel secure within our stable marriage and family.
Tonight, on Valentines Day, my husband has planned a surprise for me. I am pretty excited, I bought a new outfit, and have picked out some red lipstick to match. The kids don't have same enthusiasm or excitement as teenagers as they did when our oldest was ten, but the same message is being caught....Love, when nurtured, abounds even in marriage.
One crisp Saturday morning in October, after the sun, pouring in through the windows, had ample time to warm the living room, our drowsy kids made their way down the stairs eager to see dad after he had spent a few days away at the Catalyst leadership conference. He lured them onto the couch by pulling up on his computer some of the crazy skits and silly videos he experienced during the conference. After getting their attention, he poured into his children the challenging insights he had gleaned over the past few days...challenging insights that encouraged young leaders to make their lives count for eternity. One presentation, in particular, captured his heart, and he hoped it would capture their hearts as well. He told them a story of a nine-year-old girl who asked her friends and family to donate the money they would have spent on her birthday to an organization called Charity Water. She set a goal to raise $300.00, which would help fifteen villagers have access to clean water. He stopped his story to show them this video. Because of this young girl’s untimely death, instead of $300.00, she raised over 1.2 million dollars. Instead of fifteen people, she helped over 63,000 people.
This story struck a cord with us because we had begun to notice a trend with our teenage children. Throughout the year, our kids put many of the gadgets and toys they had gotten for Christmas, up on eBay. The money they gained from the sales they used to buy the latest and greatest gadgets and toys. We had taken several opportunities to share with them our concern that they were being taken in by marketing and a desire to have more. After watching the video, we asked our kids to consider donating some of their Christmas money to Charity Water. My husband said, “You don’t have to give me an answer now, but think about it. Let’s get together tomorrow afternoon, and you can let me know what you would like to do.” The kids went upstairs to the playroom, closed the door, and spent a long time discussing their options. After church the next day, while eating Mexican food, we asked the kids if they wanted to share with us what they decided about Christmas this year. Our oldest said, “We decided that we would like to donate ALL of our Christmas money to Charity Water.” We did not expect that at all. We had thought they would say, $25.00 each or something in that range, but not all of it! Both my husband and I were blown away. With tears filling our eyes, we told them how proud we were.
A couple of months later, when December hit, I started to second guess the kid’s decision to donate all of their Christmas money. I felt lost without the task of buying presents on my plate. I began to wonder what we were going to do on Christmas morning. I googled, “Christmas without presents” or “What to do if you don’t have presents to open on Christmas morning.” As I clicked on blogs, many of the responses included statements like, “It is wrong to deny your kids presents on Christmas.” The guilt started to set in. What had we done? I talked with the kids about their thoughts on this, and they stood firm. They still wanted to donate the money. Why was this such a struggle for me, and not for them? The week before Christmas came, and I found myself very relaxed and able to enjoy baking cookies, going to parties, and spending time watching movies with my kids. I did not experience the frazzled feeling that usually overcame me during this week. Christmas morning came, and the kids opened their presents from each other and from relatives. They had plenty of presents under the tree. After the last present was opened, my husband had the kids sit around the dining room table, and he pulled up Charity Water’s website. He clicked on the link and donated the money we had set aside for their Christmas presents. One click and it was done. No one cried or seemed disappointed. Our celebration of Christmas was just as sweet as any other Christmas.
So why had I struggled? As I reflected on the conflict in my soul, I realized that I believed I had the job of protecting my kids from disappointment. I thought if my kids were disappointed by the lack of gifts, it would ruin our Christmas celebration. Through this experience I began to realize that God calls me as a parent to help my kids walk through disappointment. When their friends treat them badly, instead of trying to shelter them from the pain, I should take time to walk them through how to respond. When they get a bad grade on a test, instead of explaining away their failure, I should help them learn from their mistakes. When they disobey or sin, instead of excusing it, I should discipline them and point them to their need for a savior. When I decide not to allow them to go to an event that “all” their friends are attending, instead of giving in to peer pressure, I should walk them through submission. It is not my job as a parent to shelter my kids from the disappointment, the discipline, and the difficult experiences they have to face. Rather, I should point them to an awesome God, who has brought every single situation into their lives to point them to Him. Dealing with disappointment was my struggle this Christmas, but it has helped me to be resolved to help my kids walk through their disappointments, rather than attempting to shelter them from them.
The rain, coming down in torrents, beat against the front of our house. We went about our business, that Saturday morning, trying to ignore the weather maps that clearly showed the worst part of the hurricane approaching our eastern North Carolina home. I sat at my computer trying to get some work done while the gales of wind forced whistles through the windows over my desk. One rather large gust of wind caused the walls surrounding the room to shudder which drove me down stairs to check the weather maps once more. I snuggled close to my husband on the couch as he watched the weather man on TV pointing out the swirling clouds moving closer to our happy little home. As my eyes were glued to the screen, I heard a little girl of ten say, "Don't worry, it's ok, I put a bucket under the drip at the front door." She walked into the kitchen before her words penetrated my mind. I dismissed them briefly, distracted by the warnings of tornadoes and floods. As the commercial played, I ventured over to the front door to see what our nonchalant little girl had discovered. In the entryway, I noticed a bead of water forming in the frame above the window surrounding the door. A small drip splashed down on the hardwood floors below, missing the bucket altogether. As I looked more closely, I noticed another drip hitting the bucket dead on. Following the drip upwards, I noticed a stream of water cascading down the wall starting below the window high above the doorway. Immediately, I called to my husband (the solver of all the household problems) and asked him what we should do. The rest of the day we took turns mopping up the floor, wiping up the wall, and going outside to place towels and tarps around the front door to block the rain, pelting our house at a ninety degree angle. When the towels and tarps were in place the dripping almost stopped, but when the wind blew the towels out of their position, the dripping increased to a pretty steady stream.
On one occasion when a gust of wind blew the towels out of place and the slow drip began to flow faster, our twelve year old daughter approached me with tears in her eyes. Distracted by the wet floor, I asked, "What's wrong?" She replied trying to suppress her anger, "Who put my hamster cage on the back porch?" Irritated by one more problem to deal with I snapped, "What are you talking about?" Then, in a flash back I remembered. One night about a week and a half ago, my husband and I were sitting in the living room, catching up after a long day. The hamster cage was sitting on the bookcase near the fireplace. The little hamster was happily running on its wheel, making a loud rumbling noise. My loving husband, distracted by the noise, carefully cradled the cage in his arms as he took it outside and placed it on the shelving located on the back porch. Oh no! I thought, that poor thing has been outside in the hot temperatures for over a week. "It's OK!" I reassured her, "Just bring him in the house now." "I can't! A gust of wind knocked the cage over! It is broken in several places, the bedding is scattered all over the porch, and I can't find my hamster anywhere!" I ran out to the back porch and asked everyone to follow. We spent ten minutes in the 40 to 50 mile an hour wind looking for the hamster, to no avail. I reassured her that peanut was a spunky little guy, and he was likely hiding under a bush somewhere waiting for us to find him. No one believed me.
When we finally came back in, we went back to our posts mopping up the floor and trying to keep the dripping to a minimum. My husband pulled my daughter aside and apologized for forgetting about her hamster. She reluctantly accepted his apology leaving both of them feeling pretty sad. Eventually, the wind and the rain became less and less and we shoved a paper towel in the crack where the drip was coming from, to keep the floor dry. We ate a dinner of tuna fish and crackers lit by flash lights, hoping for the electricity to return before we had to go to bed. Instead, we went to sleep with the windows open in the pitch blackness of the night. When we awoke the next morning, the pleasant breeze and the cool crisp morning air led us to explore the damage outside. As we stepped out on the back porch, we noticed the bedding of the hamster cage scattered about. The only other damage we noticed was our gas grill that had been turned over on its side. Fortunately, we did not have much to clean up. I went back into the house for a broom, when I heard my husband call, "Get a box or a bucket or something to put the hamster in." "What!?!" I yelled. "The hamster is out here in the fallen grill...get a box quickly before it gets away!" I bolted up the stairs to get the box that we had brought the hamster home in, and ran outside to where my husband was crouched on the side of the half opened grill top. I positioned myself on the other side and put the box, lid opened, at the edge of the grill. The little guy ran across the top of the grill and jumped right in the box, shaking with excitement, or maybe with the horror of the weather he had just experienced the night before.
My husband, overjoyed at the miracle he had just witnessed, ran directly to my daughter's room, gently and excitedly woke her from her sleep, and presented her with the gift he had in his hands. She took one look inside the box and burst into tears. The terrible blunder made by a loving father had turned into a miracle that would create a bond between a father and a daughter for a lifetime.
As I reflected on the events of that hurricane weekend, I saw a picture of the life that we all live as parents. If we are honest we all have made terrible "blunders": We respond to our kids in anger, with irritated answers, with careless or caustic, biting words; we make selfish decisions, poor choices, and take detrimental courses of action. In short, we sin and we sin and we sin against the children we love. Before we had kids we were sure that it was because of bad parenting that the kid was throwing a fit in the candy isle. We said to ourselves, Our kids were going to turn out right because we were going to be better parents. But the truth is, we have a war with sin waging in our hearts. We want to respond with patience, but more than not, we get irritated. We want to discipline in love, but many times it is anger that rules. Romans 9:21ff talks of this war that Christians fight daily.
21So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. 22For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, 23but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 24Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?Our daily struggle against the desires of our flesh gives us a clear picture of the depth of our sin. The Bible says, we are dead in our trespasses and sins (Ephesians 2:5). Just as a dead man has no hope of getting up and walking, so we, who are spiritually dead, have no hope of bringing any righteousness of our own before a holy God. Even our feeble attempts at righteous works are as filthy rags (Isaiah 64:6). So how do we respond? Do we say with despair, "Fine, I give up! I will always struggle with sin, and therefore my kids and my life is destined to be messed up!" The answer is emphatically, "No!" Romans 8 gives us hope.
1There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. 2For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. 3For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do...
26Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. 27And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. 28And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose.We, instead, respond with confession and then hope. We confess each day that we are truly sinful and without hope accept for the Saving Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ. Then we live with hope; hope that God will use even our worst days as a parent to work good in our lives and the lives of our kids. We can then live with confidence that God will take the actions of a sinful father or mother and bring about good (sometimes in the form of a hurricane miracle).
Three small children bounded out of bed at 6:30 am. I groggily pulled myself out of bed after a night of nursing the newborn at 11:30 pm, 2:30 am and 5:30 am. It seemed unfair to be forced to get out of bed while the baby was finally back to sleep. As I made my way down the steps, I heard screams coming from the two-year old, "He pulled my hair!" she exclaimed. Her brother, four years older, stood above her as she laid writhing in pain on the floor. As I began to interrogate him, I was interrupted by a teary-eyed four-year old who whined, "Mommy, I'm hungry, and we don't have any milk." Distracted from the two in conflict, I searched the pantry for food. "Hmm," I said to myself, "I guess I need to go shopping today." How I dreaded the shopping trip to Walmart. After nursing the newborn, getting the kids fed with the scraps left in the pantry, and making sure everyone had clothes and shoes on, I finally had everyone strapped in car seats by 10:30 am. I knew I only had an hour to fit the shopping trip in until the next feeding. Could we make it through the store in time? I can do this, I thought. As I walked through the isles searching for enough food to last us a week, my kids, under threats, held tightly to the cart. After the first 10 minutes, the oldest child realized that holding onto the cart really wasn't all that fun. He reached out and pinched his brother, provoking a squeal and making him let go of the cart. This got his little sister giggling, and she let go too. Soon, the whole group was pushing, pinching, and screaming as I scrambled to throw food in the cart and corral my kids back to their positions. This scenario repeated itself several times as we trudged down the isles of the store. I could feel the fatigue setting in. The sleepless nights were beginning to take their toll. I felt tears of anger creeping up behind my sleepy eyes. Then a sweet little old lady approached me. "Are they all your kids?" She asked. I was sooo tempted to say something bitterly sarcastic, but instead, I said in my sweetest Christian voice, "Yes, they are." Finally, we made our way to the check-out line only a couple of minutes before the baby's feeding time. As we inched our way toward the conveyor belt, the two-year old decided to show everyone she was wearing big-girl pants...only she took off both her pants and her pull-ups. The boys started squealing in laughter. At that moment, I looked straight at my two-year old and said with all of my wisdom, "You know if a policeman sees you doing that, he will put you in jail." At that, the boys starting laughing even harder, and the two year old started crying at the top of her lungs. It was at that moment that I realized that being a perfect mother was an unachievable goal.
If I recognize my weaknesses and leave behind the goal of maintaining the image of perfection, then God's power will be perfected in me. I don't have to struggle in my own strength to maintain the image of perfection because it is not me who is doing the perfecting. It is God.
Philippians 1:3-6 3 I thank my God every time I remember you. 4 In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy 5 because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, 6 being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.
I Thessalonians 5:23-24 23 May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through. May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. 24 The one who calls you is faithful, and he will do it.
He is the one who began the work. It is he that will bring it to completion. There is nothing in these verses about me bringing about my sanctification about me keeping my salvation in the balance. It is God who is doing it in me. So, when I sin, fail my kids, my husband, or my friends, instead of becoming devastated and impotent as a Christian, I look at these times as opportunities to learn the lessons that God is teaching me. They are simply course corrections, times in my life that God is molding me and shaping me into the person He wants me to be. God uses my failures as a mother to make my kids into the people he wants them to be. Wow! That takes the pressure off my shoulders. I don't have to trust in my own strength to keep it all together. It is God's strength and His work in my life that brings about His perfect will.
If I believe in a God who is Omnipotent (all powerful), Omnipresent (everywhere present), Omniscient (all knowing), Omnibenevolent (perfect in goodness), then I will believe in a good God who can and will work all things in my life together for His glory and my good (Romans 8:28). "All things" includes even my failures and mistakes. It includes even the trials, disappointments, and struggles I am faced with. When I read verses like Philippians 4:4-7, I can say with confidence that I can rejoice in all circumstances knowing that my good, all-knowing, all-powerful, everywhere-present God is working in even these circumstances for my good and His glory.
Philippians 4:4-7 4 Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 5 Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. 6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. 7 And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Being used of God no matter which path he takes me on, whether it looks like failure in the world's eyes or not, is my goal. Fulfilling His purposes in my life is the only truly fulfilling path I can take. All other side trails will only lead to frustration and discouragement.
Laura Story's song Blessings reiterates this truth. She says that God brings all the circumstances in our lives to bring about good. She underscores that even the hardest trials that we go through are brought to us by God, who has our good in mind. Instead of trusting in a good God that has brought about all of these things for our good, she sings to God, "We cry in anger when we cannot feel you near, we doubt your goodness, we doubt your love." She goes on to explain, "When friends betray us, when darkness seems to win, the pain reminds us that this is not our home." She sings, "What if my greatest disappointment and the aching of this life is a revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy." If we could come to the place where we realize that our greatest accomplishments, the money we make, the toys that we buy, the people we are friends with will never satisfy us, and instead realize that our only satisfaction can come from laying down our lives and surrendering our will to the one and only God of the universe. It is only then that our failures won't devastate us; our wrong decisions won't cripple us; and our unrealized hopes and dreams won't bring us crashing down. When we get to a place where we can truly say like Jesus, "Not my will, but Yours, be done," (Luke 22:42) because we trust that God's plan is good, it is infinitely better, and it is the best plan for our lives. It is then and only then that we can truly be satisfied.
A few months ago, my 16 year old son told us that he would like to stop homeschooling and go to public school next fall. I fully expected my husband to discourage him by carefully explaining the merits of homeschooling, but instead he said, "You are old enough now to make this decision. Take some time to pray about it, searching out all the options, and let us know what you decide." I am not going to lie. It was right then that I began squawking. It was a silent squawk. No one heard it, but it was a squawk none-the-less. I did not trust God to lead my son to the right decision. I wanted to force my own agenda on him, because after all I knew better. Instead of following my inclinations, I listened to the wisdom of my husband and let my son have the freedom to make this decision. The following week we found ourselves sitting in the high school counselor's office listening to all the options. She explained that because my son had not taken his high school courses in the order prescribed by the school system, he would have to take at least three of these courses over, possibly in summer school. I was so relieved, I knew my son would not go for this. But when we got out to the car, he said, "Well that sounds pretty good." Squawk, squawk...I could hear the squawking building...God what are you doing? For a month and a half I called the school counselor repeatedly trying to get her to agree to count the courses and work with us. My husband and I continued to pray that God would lead our son to the right decision.
During this process, God began reshaping my heart. He brought me to the realization that graduating my children from my homeschool had become an idol in my life that I wasn't willing to give up. As the weeks passed, I began to trust in God's work in my son's life rather than trusting in the schooling option I thought was best. During this time, I slowly began to pry my fingers off this idol and let God take control. I prayed for wisdom for my son. I prayed that God would lead him where He wanted him to be. I began to be at peace with whatever the Lord led him to choose. After several phone messages left on the counselors voice mail, I finally received the deciding call. She told me that all of my son's classes would transfer over, but they could not be accepted as honors level or AP level courses, which would bring his grade point average down significantly. After I hung up, I shared this information with my son. He responded immediately with, "When do we sign up for our homeschool classes." I was shocked. When I had finally let go of my idol, God gave me what I wanted. I wasn't jubilant. I didn't gloat. I didn't say I told you so. I was simply glad that God had led my son where He wanted him to go and extremely thankful for the wisdom of my husband.
I am hoping that next time when I am faced with a gift from God, I will let go of my agenda, I will trust that He is working, and I won't squawk so loudly.
The stuffy, warm, early morning air, very uncharacteristic for February, made the layers of blankets covering my body seem unbearably hot. Pushing the blankets to the bottom of the bed, I tried to cool off and get a little more sleep. The sun had just begun to peak over the horizon, when I felt my husband rustling under the covers next to me. I must have dozed off for a few minutes, because the next thing I knew he was climbing back in bed saying, “I turned on the air conditioner for a few minutes to get the stuffiness out of the air.” The welcomed coolness allowed me to snuggle under the covers for about thirty more minutes, when I awakened to the sounds of the shower running and the trailer song to the Dave Ramsey Show calling out its oh so familiar tune. As I made my way to the sink to wash my face, my husband asked, “What is that horrible smell? It reminds me of rotten eggs!” He searched around the shower sniffing until he found the culprit: a sponge that had been left on the tile floor since the last time I attempted to clean it. The sponge, completely covered in slime, immediately found its way to the trash can, where I escorted it out of the house. A little embarrassed by the condition of the shower and the fact that I had not noticed, I quickly put “cleaning the shower” at the top of my to-do list for the morning.
As I wiped the slime off the bottom of the shower door and scrubbed the mildew and soap scum off the walls of the shower, I began to contemplate the gross build up of sin that I had so easily ignored in my own life. This week the Read Through the Bible in a Year program has led me through the passages in Leviticus that deal with the intricacies of the ceremonial sin offerings. Reading through these passages, I have found a new appreciation for the seriousness of sin. God made very strict rules regarding atonement for sin. Yet, I so cavalierly deal with the sin in my own life, often explaining it away or ignoring it altogether. I often think thoughts like, I would not have snapped if my husband had responded to me better. I would have exhibited more patience if my children did not bicker all the time. “I would have” and “if only” statements let the sin accumulate in my heart like the soap scum and slime on my shower walls, which hardens producing a self-righteous attitude. If I could take time more regularly to clean the sin out of my own heart, recognizing my guilt and repenting, I will be in a much better place when I am confronted with other people’s sin. 1 John 1:8-10 hits me to the core:
I began to realize that it is so easy to fall into the trap of claiming to be without sin. I am forgiven right? What sin do I commit? Yet as I search my heart, I realize that sin is lurking even on the surface of my feeble self-righteous heart. As I attempt to live in God's presence, I am more aware that I am in need of daily confession to get rid of my self-righteous attitude, helping me to recognize my need of the Holy Spirit in my life to not only convict me of sin, but to help me grow in righteousness. So, what can I do to remind me that I am a sinner saved by grace? As I began to search through my memory banks, looking for a way to add confession to my daily life, I remembered an acrostic that my favorite high school Bible teacher encouraged us to pray through. The ACTS acrostic, which stands for: A-adoration, C-confession, T-thanksgiving, and S-supplication might do. Rethinking this model, I am struck by the fact that the majority of the time spent praying is focused on God rather than on what I want (supplication). Adoration focuses on God’s wonderful attributes; confession focuses on God’s forgiveness; thanksgiving focuses on God’s blessings; and by the time I get to supplication my needs seem so small in comparison. My hope is that praying through the ACTS model, I will see my need for a savior because instead of explaining my sin away, I will more easily recognize my dependency on my savior, exalting Him rather than feeling a need to exalt myself and my vain attempts at greatness.
The brilliant fingers of the morning sun poking through the blinds onto the living room couch seemed to beckon me out onto the back porch. I followed them through the French doors where the warmth of the sun met my face, and I breathed deeply of the crisp October air. The sounds of morning birds singing, led my gaze to the trees lined with bright yellow leaves, which stood in stark contrast to the deep blue color of the fall sky. This beautiful weather came as such a welcomed change to the dreary wet weather we had become accustomed to the week before. Oh what a beautiful day, I thought as I scanned the backyard and noticed my girls poking around the dirt in my garden desperately searching for worms. I had a hunch they were planning an afternoon at the neighbor’s pond fishing for the prized wide-mouthed bass. As I stepped back inside, I noticed the voices of my teenage boys making calls and finalizing plans with their friends to hang out somewhere, anywhere. I had already planned to brave the crowds at Wal-Mart in an attempt to refill the shelves of our pantry that had been licked clean of every crumb by our ravenous teenagers. When they asked me for a ride to the park, I readily agreed. After shuttling the boys to their destination and braving the crowds, I returned home with bags filled with groceries. Walking into the kitchen, I found my husband sitting intently in front of the TV watching an action-packed, rather scary-sounding movie. Now, I don’t generally enjoy watching scary movies, but since it is not very often that we have the house to ourselves, I decided to snuggle up to my husband and endure the scary parts of the movie so we could spend some time together. This was a mistake! The snuggling abruptly ended as the intense music alerted me to the danger of the zombie-like creatures who lurked in the shadows of the dark deserted building. Will Smith and his dog only narrowly escaping their fangs. I knew that if I continued to sit through the movie I am Legend, my dreams that night would be filled with nasty creatures. So after only fifteen minutes of the movie, I made my way up the stairs and into the playroom, where I shut the door tightly behind me. I could still hear the screams and booming sounds of the movie through the closed door, but at least I didn’t have to watch the zombies attacking anymore.
Later that evening, I questioned my husband, “How can you stand to watch movies like that?” His response piqued my interest. He told me, “I love zombie movies because they illustrate how most people view the world around them. They believe that they are the only sane people who have a corner on the truth, and people who oppose them are zombies.” He went on to explain, “Think about it, people who are resolute in their political beliefs sincerely believe that those with the opposing point of view are clearly messed up in their thinking.” He gave another example, “How about this,” he said, “When someone offends us, instead of confronting them and working through the difference, we pull away often brooding over the sinfulness of their behavior.” He continued, “Pretty soon, we find ourselves only associating with a very small group of people, feeling like the people on the outside are zombies who need to be quarantined or given an antidote to make them sane again.”
As I pondered my husband’s observations I began to realize that he was onto something. Because of the effects of sin in the world and in our lives, we constantly offend and are offended by the folks around us. If we neglect to forgive those who offend us, we allow these relational wounds to fester often leading to bitterness or hatred. If we continue to refuse to deal with the problem, when we are forced to interact with the person who has offended us, it seems that everything they say or do is misconstrued into bad motives or poor judgment on their part. In effect, we have "zombified" the person, feeling that if only they were rational human beings they would see things our way. Pretty soon, we are left with only a few “sane” people as our friends. We rally together to fight off the zombies with the stockpile of weapons gathered in the race to destroy them before they destroy us.
I am convinced there is a better way. The more clearly I understand the depths of my sinfulness and the heights of the grace of the gospel at work in my life to restore me to a right relationship with my savior, the less I am tempted to judge or “zombify” the people who offend me. This truth is illustrated by Matthew 18: 21-35. In this passage, Jesus tells the parable of the servant who begs his master to forgive his debt and then turns around and demands that a fellow servant repay him a much smaller debt. When the fellow servant begs for mercy, the man man responds, not by forgiving his debt, but by putting him in prison. How foolish the servant was to gladly accept Jesus’ forgiveness, but turn around and condemn his neighbor of a much smaller offense. Jesus illustrates the fact that since God has forgiven us a debt we could never pay, we ought to turn around and freely forgive those who have offended us. Matthew 7: 1-5 also lends credence to this principle of forgiveness. In this passage, Jesus instructs us to take the plank of sin out of our own eye before taking the speck of sawdust out of our brother’s eye. We must first look at the depths of our sin and our desperate need of a savior. When we fully realize our standing before a holy God, we begin to see how our neighbor’s offense is in comparison a speck. When we respond to offenses with humility, then and only then can we work out our differences with godliness. The truth of the gospel just might be that even I am a zombie in desperate need of the antidote: a saving relationship with a loving savior.
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