Worry and Grace

 

Dear Old Friend,

I have been anxious about many things this week, in direct opposition to what scripture says I should do.  Worry and I go way back.  

I have probably always equated worry with caring.  If I care about someone and I become aware of an issue which has the potential to threaten their safety or happiness, it would seem uncaring of me not to worry, so I label it “concern”; but because it definitely involves elements of fear and dread, it’s really just worry.  And then, of course, I worry about my own safety and happiness, and there's no euphemism for that. I'm a worrier.

The good thing about it, I reason, is that my worry leads me to pray.  I acknowledge before God my helplessness to control or alter the threatening circumstances, and I ask for God’s intervention on behalf of myself and/or those I love.  But, always, in the back of my mind, I hear this nagging  voice telling me that worry is a sin and that if I truly believed and had faith in God and his sovereignty I wouldn’t have that gut-wrenching, heart palpitating fear I’m experiencing. In other words, I’m caught between thinking that worry is the evidence of my caring, as well as the evidence of my lack of faith.  This dilemma generates more worry and more guilt; and on and on it goes.

This week, however, I had a new insight. I went back and reread the passages in scripture which speak so clearly about worry, Matthew 6:25-34 and Philippians 4:6-7.  Both of those scriptures use the words “Do not”: “Do not be anxious”, “Do not worry”.  My law oriented mind has always heard those words as a command, and therefore I could not help but see my worry as a disobedience of the command, which then resulted in feelings of guilt. 

But this time, I read those words, not as law, but as grace; as words of reassurance just like those I have spoken to my own children when I told them not to worry because they were afraid of the dark, or of a new school, or were worried that no one would ever love them, or that they couldn’t handle their lives.  This time I read those words not as a rule to be followed, but as God's comfort and encouragement given so that we could face the struggles which life will inevitably bring.  Were there times when I got exasperated with my children because of their continued anxiety in the face of my reassurances?  Sure; but, thankfully, God is not like me! 

God knows that life on this planet will throw seemingly endless troubling circumstances our way; things which will cause us, in our humanity, to be anxious and fearful; and he isn’t standing with his arms crossed and his foot tapping in agitation over the fact that we have once more disappointed him by our lack of faith.  Because of Jesus’ perfect righteousness credited to us, we do not stand before him condemned by the Law of Do Not Worry.  Instead, he speaks softly to us with soothing words of hope and assurance; words of grace: Don’t be afraid, I am with you, I will take care of you even through the terrible times, I love you, and I always will.

What a relief to cross worry off the list of things I have to worry about!

Love Always,

Bonnie

My True Voice

 Dear Old Friend,

I have a confession to make.  In many situations, I am one of those people who would prefer to pretend a problem does not exist rather than to deal with it.  When you combine that tendency with a distrust of and a desire to avoid doctors, troubles can arise.

As you know, I was recently rear-ended while sitting at a stop light, by a car going somewhere between 40-50 mph.  When the E.M.T.’s at the scene told me I probably had broken ribs, and that doctors don’t really do anything for broken ribs, I reasoned that there was no point in going to see a doctor.  I was later convinced that I needed to document my injuries, so I did get x-rays which confirmed what I already knew, that my ribs were indeed broken, and that doctors don’t do anything for them. 

Flash forward approximately four weeks.  My ribs were slowly healing and I had found my replacement car. The CD of Handel’s Messiah, which I had to reorder because the one I had listened to and sung along with in my car throughout the Christmas season could not be removed from the CD player after the accident, had finally arrived.  All was well.  Or was it?

As you’re well aware, I love to sing.  I sang my first solo in church when I was four. You and I were in a trio together in our Middle School years. I’ve sung in choirs, traveled with groups, and, just like you, I have been the soloist for many weddings and funerals. I haven’t performed in public for awhile, but I still sing all the time and I was always grateful to be able to raise my voice in praise to God whether I was in church or in my car singing along with the radio or a CD.  Imagine my surprise, then, when I realized, while trying to sing in my car one day, that I had seemingly lost the entire upper range of my voice! 

I have always been an alto, but I’ve had the ability to sing higher notes as well.  I remember thinking over the holidays that it almost seemed my higher range was better now than my low range.  I use that upper range in other ways than just singing.  I always instinctively speak to babies and children, like my precious grandsons, with that higher range.   That range also provides the “lilt” in my voice which I have learned to use effectively in everyday speech, to heighten or soften the impact of what I am saying.  My voice is my tool, my identity; and suddenly it had changed.

At first, I thought maybe I was getting sick and was just a bit hoarse, but there were no other symptoms.  I then wondered if I was imagining it, so I became obsessed with trying to sing along with the radio, and I couldn’t.  I felt like my throat was constricted and when I would try to force a higher note, I would squawk off-key.  I knew the final test would be to try to sing the choruses on my Messiah CD, which I had easily sung just before the accident. Reluctantly I put in the CD and my fears were confirmed.  The lilt in my voice is gone.

Because this change was so sudden, my assumption is that it is somehow related to the accident.  Naturally, I researched on line and found several possibilities.  The bottom line of my research seemed to be that, if there is any way to get back “my” voice, it would probably involve some kind of voice therapy, which might or might not work.  Because of my inclinations mentioned at the start of this letter, I was tempted to just let it go and not try to get to the bottom of it, but the fact is that this loss has deeply affected me; so, yesterday I went to see my doctor who referred me to a specialist.  I’ll keep you posted.

Last night I was struck once more by the realization that the things of this world, in which we place our security or find our identity, are only temporary; even the gifts which God has given us to use in service for him.  Our only true security and identity is to be found in Christ.  Of course, I hope that the full range of my voice will be restored here on earth; but, whether it is or is not, I understand that my true voice has always been whatever means God has provided for me to share the good news of what he has done for us through Christ Jesus; the good news that God sent his son to live a perfect life which he credits to poor sinners like me, and to die the death which we all deserve so that all of our sins, no matter how many or how great, are forgiven. 

Because of that gift and that gift alone, I will one day be able to spend eternity singing praises with my true voice.  I will have a range and lilt that I can’t even begin to imagine now, and it will never be taken away!

I know you understand. I can’t wait to sing with you in heaven!

Love Always,

Bonnie

Out of Bounds

 

Dear Old Friend,

As you know, I just came back from visiting my daughter and my four year old grandson.  I remember, when my own son was four, being concerned that there was something wrong with him because he seemed to be out of control; and, I remember being greatly relieved when I read an article which told me that four is the “out of bounds” age.  Everything is too loud, every emotion is too strong, and every attempted activity is too dangerous.  Four is when children intentionally push, and leap over, every boundary.  It is the year of extremes.  It is the year of believing you are in control, and actually being out of control; especially with boys!

On my very first day there, my grandson experimented with calling me Bonnie, because that is what his dad calls me.  I explained all about first names versus relationships, like mommy and daddy, and that even though Bonnie was my first name, I was his Grammie and that’s what he should call me.  That worked for a few minutes, but then I suddenly became Grams, and that stuck.  It was his four year old way of being in control.  His favorite phrase was, “Follow me, Grams”, and off we would go on one exciting adventure after another.

As long as I was with him, I was primarily able to keep him from suffering serious bodily harm and from inflicting bodily harm on others, but whenever I took time to visit with my daughter, and he was left to his own devices, he would do things like scaring the two very pregnant goats off the porch or running headlong into the flock of chickens, chasing them into the neighbor’s yard (See my daughter's hilarious blog for further info about the goats and chickens, etc.)  It didn’t matter how many serious conversations he’d already had with his mother about the very good reasons why he was not supposed to do those things.  It did not matter what consequences he would suffer if he did those things anyway; the temptation was just too great.

Once, when I was leisurely sipping coffee and chatting with my daughter who was working in the kitchen, he grabbed a backless barstool and dragged it into the hallway, where we couldn’t see him.  When I grew suspicious and got up to investigate, I found him standing on the stool, teetering on his tiptoes.  When I swept him off the stool into my arms, he loudly protested that he wanted to touch the ceiling light fixture.  “Help me, Grams!” he ordered. When I tried to explain why this was not the great idea he thought it was, he protested loudly and I had to enlist the authority of Mommy to dissuade him.

I wondered on numerous occasions how my daughter managed when I wasn’t there. My son-in-law, due to the nature of his job, is often gone for weeks at a time; and, as much as my grandson would love it, my daughter isn’t able to spend every waking moment following him around, giving him her full attention.  He is up at the crack of dawn and no longer takes naps, so there isn’t even a break time for her to do things while he is safely asleep.  It is inevitable that he will sometimes be out of her sight during the day.  She does an admirable job of ensuring his safety, but as I mentioned, he’s four….

It occurred to me that, to God, we are all like four year old boys.  We all believe we are in control, when we are out of control.  We all have hairbrained schemes which put us in danger.  We all do things which we know are wrong, undeterred by the looming consequences, because the temptation is just too great.

Thankfully, we are never out of God’s sight, even for a moment! He understands and is infinitely patient with our tendency to be out of bounds.  He tenderly watches over us, giving comfort when we are hurt by our own poor choices; and he has provided forgiveness for all of our indiscretions through the life, death and resurrection of his own son.

How precious it is to have that assurance, for myself, for my children and for my grandchildren!

Love Always,

Bonnie

Almost Compelled by Love

Dear Old Friend,

I learned something this week about how the compelling power of the love of Christ works (See 2 Corinthians 5:14-15).

I’ve been going through a lot of work drama over the past couple of weeks.  In my company there is a nearby office which has been understaffed off and on for more than a year now, due to marriages, babies and people moving out of the area. The manager of that office and I have been friends for years and whenever she needed help she called on me, and my staff has been willing on many occasions to work things out so that the needs of her office were covered.

In early November of last year, my part-time associate gave notice, so I began a difficult search for a replacement which lasted a couple of months.  Several of my candidates chose other positions after I had made the job offer to them; one actually accepted the job and had been given her work schedule and start date, but suddenly stopped returning my calls and finally emailed me that she had decided to work elsewhere.  Finally I hired someone who seemed as excited to work with us as we were with her.

She started the first of January.  Then, at the end of the month, when she was trained and able to handle shifts on her own, the manager of the other office called and the new employee answered the phone. There are conflicting stories as to how the subject came up, but in the end, the manager asked my employee if she was interested in the full time position she had open, and, even though my newly hired associate seemed to feel uncomfortable about it, she told the other manager that she would be interested in interviewing for that position.

I was appalled and felt betrayed by everyone.  I was shocked that the other manager would try to poach my associate immediately after I had done all the work to get her hired and trained.  I was surprised that the newly hired worker, who knew of the struggles I had finding someone, would so readily jump ship.  And I couldn’t understand why my company had no policy in place with a specified period of time before a worker could transfer to another position, allowing the ones who had done all the work of getting someone hired and trained to reap some of the benefits of their labor.

I took it quite personally, and I alternated between being angry and depressed.  I walked around my house and office muttering about selfishness and disloyalty; I self-righteously remembered all of the times I had helped this person, whom I had thought of as a friend, and vowed to never make that mistake again. 

When the other manager called me to talk about the situation, I told her that, if she was looking for my blessing she wasn’t going to get it, and I let her know how upset and disappointed I was, intentionally piling on the guilt.  She told me that she actually had another candidate she interviewed first and really liked, but that she now felt somewhat obligated to hire my associate, since she would then be giving the opportunity to someone within the company who had expressed interest in the position, instead of bringing in someone from the outside.  At that point I enlisted the help of my boss to try and convince her that she was under no obligation to hire my employee if there was someone else she preferred.

The thing is, the whole time I was ranting and raving and working myself up into a frenzy, and trying to manipulate the situation by using guilt and whatever other weapons I could muster, in the background I could hear everything I know about grace playing over and over in my head.  In the past I would have heard a “law tape” playing, and I would have felt guilty; but,  I promise you, this was different. 

I heard things like, “Think about all of the selfish and disloyal things you do daily to God, and how he doesn’t condemn you or turn his back on you or swear that he will never help you again.  Because of his Son, he loves you and forgives you over and over no matter how often you betray him”; and,  “If you know that everything you need you already possess in Christ, then you are free to let this go, even if it means you have to start the whole hiring process over again. You are free to continue to care about your long time friend, and not hold a grudge against your associate who was simply happy for an opportunity to make more money.  You can trust that God isn’t surprised by this situation and will walk through it with you, no matter what the outcome.  You are free to love, because you know what it feels like to be loved even when you don’t deserve it. 

I can’t say that I had completely surrendered to the voice of grace in my head before my phone rang this afternoon, but I was almost there. The call was from the office manager telling me she had decided to go with the other candidate she liked.  She then said she might actually be able to work things out so that my employee could get some extra hours on a fairly regular basis, which might supplement her income enough to keep her happy even though she didn’t get the full-time job.  I was very relieved, to say the least!

Even though I had not handled the situation with grace, I was able to recognize the process of compelling love, and how it works in us to change our hearts and minds. I can see now that the more I allow the truth to sink deeply into my heart--of how completely I am loved, not because of how well I do, or even whether I do, the right things, but because Christ did the right things on my behalf--the more I will be compelled to share that same kind of love with others. 

I might be glacially slow at “getting” this, but I’m encouraged to see the process at work in my heart. Maybe someday I'll actually be able to lead with grace instead of getting around to it after awhile. Thankfully, God loves me regardless!

Love Always,

Bonnie