Known From the Inside Out

Dear Old Friend,

Today I am placing special emphasis on that word “old”.  As you know, the day before my birthday was my last day of work, making Retirement, as I told everyone, one of the best birthday presents I have ever received!  The decision to take that momentous step led me to do a lot of reflecting.  I remember wondering, not so many years ago, what retirement must feel like.  Did retirees really look at it as a new beginning; or, did they secretly view retirement in the same way that the rest of us who weren’t there yet perceived it, as the beginning of the End? 

I recently read a Facebook post from one of our high school friends.  He told of an occasion where he was leaving a store at the same time a father and his young daughter were coming in.  The father told the little girl to, “Let the old man out first”.  After looking around and finally realizing with a jolt that he was the “old man” being referenced, our friend said he decided to go home and write his obituary.

I laughed when I read his post, but I know what he meant.  I have concluded that no one ever considers himself to be old, in the same sense that “old” is thought of by the young. We may feel sick or experience pain, but it is just that; not “old”.  Perhaps the closest we come is the realization that others now view us in the same way we once viewed our parents’ generation; but, we finally see that we were mistaken.  We now understand that, inside, we are all, always, our same ageless selves.  “Old” is a misperception of those on the outside.

The thing is, we are all on the outside of each other’s lives.  We can only relate to each other through the lens of our perceptions which form our opinions of what we believe to be true about each other; and, these opinions may bear little or no resemblance to the actual truth.  We only have a dim understanding of ourselves at any given point in time, so it is no wonder that we are unable to correctly perceive those around us.

I became aware of this when I was very young.  I was certainly unable to read or write at the time, but I remember telling my mother that I wanted to write a book explaining to parents what it was like to be a child.  My mother laughed and said that all parents had once been children, so they already understood.  But I knew that, while they might have once been children, they had all forgotten how it felt to be a child with parents ruling over them.  I wish I had been able to write that book.  I think it might have helped me to be a better parent.

The only time I actually was a really good parent was before I had children.  I had firm ideas of what good parenting was supposed to look like.  I knew what I would expect from my children, and what I would and would not accept as far as their behavior was concerned.  I was also quite clear on where other parents had failed, and therefore I knew what mistakes I was not going to make.  

That confidence came from viewing parenthood from the outside.  Once I was on the inside, however, I discovered that I knew absolutely nothing.  Every single thing I carried in from the outside immediately turned to dust.  No amount of observation, reading or research had prepared me for what life on the inside of parenting was really like.

The same thing is true on an interpersonal level.  No matter how I try to explain to another human being what it is like to be me on the inside, and no matter how much that other human being might want to understand, at the end of the day, they cannot truly know me, because they are and always will be on the outside.  

While there is nothing wrong with our attempting to explain or struggling to understand, because every small degree of awareness of another’s life is precious, the fact remains that we will never be able to fully comprehend what it is like to be someone else. I am sure I am not the only one who has spent many years of my life longing to find that one person who will finally, truly know me, only to be disillusioned and disappointed each time when I discovered that was not the case.

Philosophers have spoken of the need to face our “Existential Loneliness” as an unavoidable condition of our humanity; the essence of being human.  We are each alone, on the inside.  But Scripture tells us of a God who refused to be on the outside, and chose to become flesh and dwell among us (John 1:14)  And then, because of what Christ accomplished for us on the cross, his Spirit now comes and lives inside of us. (1 Corinthians 6:19; Colossians 1:27; 1 John 4:15)  

Did you catch that?  We, as believers in Christ, are not alone on the inside.  There is someone who does know us, fully and completely; who understands all of our experiences, our fears and failures; who knows us better than we know ourselves and loves us with an everlasting love.  He is the one we have longed for and searched for our whole lives, and we will never find ourselves disillusioned or disappointed with him, because he knows us from the inside out.

He is the one who remembers what it is like to be a child with parents ruling over you, he is the one who anticipated the inexplicable fierce love you would feel when you saw your baby for the first time, he is the one who understood the helplessness you experienced when you realized you did not have a clue about how to be a parent, he is the one who has always been with you, even to your old age and gray hairs. (Psalm 71:18)  He is the one who truly knows that “old” really is just a misperception of those on the outside, and that you are still, and always, your ageless self on the inside.  He is the one from whom even death cannot separate you.  (Romans 8:38-39)  He is the one who has said he will never leave you or forsake you (Hebrews 13:5); and he is the one who promises that one day you will know him as fully as he has always known you. (1 Corinthians 13:12)

Isn't it incredibly comforting to realize that there is someone who completely understands us, especially at this point in our journey!  

I am so looking forward to spending more time with you now that I’m retired!

Love Always,

Bonnie

The Inescapable Box

 

Dear Old Friend,

I have been thinking a lot about boxes lately.  Not the cardboard variety, but the kind we put each other in both individually and as a society.  We categorize people based on our life experiences, what we have been told by others or perhaps fear and then we project that categorization onto a person and put them into a box derived from our bias.  You might think that because of the incidents of the past week I am referring specifically to racial boxes or police boxes; and, while those are examples of what I mean, the issue goes much deeper than that.  We have bias boxes for everyone in our lives and we relate to each other based on our boxes.

Think about the stages of dating relationships for example.  We start out in each other’s Amazing Box.  Everything which the other person does seems unbelievably wonderful; even their flaws are adorable. But, as time goes by, the flaws become less adorable and more annoying.  We may then move each other to a negative box such as the Stubborn Box, or the Controlling Box or the Boring Box.  The thing is, the person in the box may not actually be stubborn, controlling or boring; they might, in fact, be agreeable, humble and witty; but that does not matter.  What matters is only what the person who placed them in the box believes they are.  The burden is on the one in the negative box to prove that they do not belong there; but the bias of the one who put them in the box makes satisfying that burden of proof almost impossible. Every action of the person in the box will be scrutinized and interpreted according to the bias.  In a dating relationship, once you are in a negative box, you will most likely soon be in the Ex Box.

Interestingly, while it is next to impossible to be moved from a negative box to a positive box, the reverse is not true.  One’s position in a positive box is tenuous at best; any infraction, real or imagined, can result in reassignment to a negative box. Movement from the Good Daughter, Son, Mother, Father, Spouse, Worker or Friend Box to the corresponding Bad box can occur in the blink of an eye, whether or not it was merited. What matters is not actual merit but perceived merit.

Reality may play only a small part in our perceptions of each other.  We are influenced by so many factors, some of which are subconscious, that the opportunity for misinterpreting and misunderstanding each other seems more likely than not. As a result, we spend much of our time fearfully and frustratedly trying to explain ourselves in ways which will justify our not being placed in a box from which there is virtually no way of escape.

We have all been put in negative boxes and we have imprisoned others. You and I, as mothers, have experienced firsthand the frustration of being placed in the negative boxes our children have put us in; and we can also look back on how we did the same thing to our own mothers.  As a nation, we are experiencing the results of the false and unfair box assignments of whole groups of people.  We see it in our personal relationships and between nations all around the world. 

So, what is the answer? I could pontificate about how we should all stop putting each other in negative boxes, and start listening to and seeing each other for who we are rather than projecting our biases onto each other.  Of course, we really should try to do that, and keep on trying when we fail; but, the thing is, we will fail.  Even when we recognize that we should stop and want to stop, we will never completely stop.

Is there hope, then, for our world of perpetual boxers? Our hope is in this, “But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” Romans 5:8.  Our hope is in the fact that God did not withhold his love from us until we got things right.  God is the only one who truly knows us and sees us as we are.  He is never blinded by some unfair preconception of us.  He knows every fear, every heartache and every wound which has been inflicted on us by others.  He knows the experiences which have shaped us and our view of the world and those in it. He knows us better than we know ourselves, and he loves us and showed us that love even in the midst of our negative boxing of others, by sending his son to carry to the cross all of the wounds we have inflicted upon others and those inflicted on us. 

When we are unable to escape from the negative box in which we have been placed, we can rest in the knowledge that God knows the truth.  When we have imprisoned others in our own negative boxes, we can be assured that there is a place of forgiveness and healing for that as well.  And, finally, we can live in expectation of the day when there will be no more misunderstandings or misinterpretations; when we will see and know each other as who we really are; a day when all of the boxes will be gone and we will be free.

Oh, how I long for that day!

Love Always,

Bonnie

If You Empty It, It Will Fill

Dear Old Friend,

I was warned that this would happen, but I have to say, I didn’t believe it.  Before I retired I worked at least forty hours a week.  This means that I should now have forty prime hours, plus all of the time I spent commuting, freed up on my calendar every week, right? These were hours I was going to fill with all manner of edifying activities; and, once I got past the whole Law of Retirement mindset, I was back to being excited about the idea of doing things like walking every day, catching up with old friends, playing with my grandchildren and writing, to name a few.  That list represents the more enjoyable end of the spectrum, but I was also serious about my desire to begin methodically sorting through the junk squirreled away in each room of our home and ruthlessly paring it down.

What has happened instead is that I have spent an inordinate amount of time figuring out things like how the online bill pay system works; indulging my new passion of finding a cure for, or at least relief from, every ailment known to mankind through the use of essential oils; preparing food for my husband to take to work, so that he doesn’t keep stopping for expensive unhealthy food every day; and running all kinds of errands for people who don’t have forty empty hours on their calendars and are excited to have found someone who does.

I have also rediscovered the fact that the regular, mundane household chores, like keeping a clean kitchen, vacuuming, dusting and doing laundry are not just one and done.  No, you have to spend the same amount of time, day in and day out, doing the same things if you want to stay on top of it all instead of living like a barbarian and just letting it go, doing what you can when you can, like I did when I was working! Trying to live like a normal member of polite society eats up a lot of those empty hours!

I have found that, although sitting at a desk handling all kinds of problems all day was mentally exhausting, running around doing household chores and errands is equally physically and emotionally taxing and most days I find myself, mid afternoon, fighting the urge to take a nap.  A Nap!  I haven’t succumbed to that temptation yet, because I fear it will be game over if I do.

The problem is, I have yet to go through one single closet!  But I did spend a couple of days watching my grandsons during Spring Break, which led to a serious discussion about possible plans for Summer Break since I am now available.  That might not be exactly how I pictured it, but, hey, spending time with my grandsons was definitely on my list!

The bottom line is, somehow I feel like I am just about as busy as I was when I was working.  Don’t get me wrong, I am greatly enjoying what I am doing, especially in comparison, but I see that I may never be able to fit in all of the things I thought I was going to do.  The hole has already filled up.

As I was thinking about this, Aristotle’s theory that nature abhors a vacuum popped into my head.  You know, the idea that things seemingly can’t remain empty; they will, almost of necessity, fill up again?  And that thought reminded me, as most things do, about something in scripture.  It is a story Jesus told about something else which was emptied and then filled up again.

The story is found in Luke 11:24-26:  “When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it passes through waterless places seeking rest, and finding none it says, ‘I will return to my house from which I came.’ And when it comes, it finds the house swept and put in order.  Then it goes and brings seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and dwell there.  And the last state of that person is worse than the first.”

Many people have taken this story and have used it as the basis for a whole philosophy of demonology.  I, on the other hand, see it as a very accurate picture of what happens to any and all of us when we set out upon a moral improvement project.  We, with all good intentions, kick out the offending sin, or bad habit, or unhealthy way of living.  We resolve to do better.  We throw out all of the processed foods in the pantry; or the booze; or we put a block on the computer to keep us from visiting offensive sites; or we remove that one person’s number from our phone; whatever the behavior is that we are determined to change.  Then we tidy up our lives and expect that will do the trick.  Then we gain back all the weight we lost, plus ten pounds; or, we fall off the wagon and get dragged down the road, in the mud, face first.

Luke 11 began with Jesus casting out a demon which had rendered the person mute.  Jesus obviously cared then and cares now about rescuing us from the damage caused by the presence of sin in our lives, but then he told that story to say there is no permanent solution to sin except his own imputed righteousness and his substitutionary death on the cross.  He knew that even if the demons were cast out they would return, with friends. The casting out of demons was only a temporary fix at best. The salvation he came to provide was eternal.

Jesus ended chapter 11 with the scathing list of woes for the Pharisees, all based on the repugnant fact that they were only concerned about keeping up an appearance of goodness.  Theirs was a surface religion; caring about the cleanliness of the outside of the cup with no concern for the filth on the inside. He finished by telling them, “Woe to you, experts in the law, because you have taken away the key to knowledge.  You yourselves have not entered, and you have hindered those who were “entering”. (Luke 11:52)

The key to knowledge which the teachers of the law had taken away was the promise of a Messiah, a Savior, Christ himself.  Instead they presented the people with the false key of moral goodness, or obedience, by which no one would be able to unlock and walk through the gates into the Kingdom of God.  Sadly, that’s not so different today, is it?

Regardless of how my retirement hours are filled, or how many times I flounder in my attempts to be a better person, I am so grateful to know that I am loved purely on the basis of what my Savior has done for me.

Love Always,

Bonnie 

The Effects

Dear Old Friend,

You’ve certainly known me long enough to be aware that I tend to get pretty animated about the things I believe in.  I have been told that I would make a good salesperson because of that tendency; but, years ago I discovered that was not necessarily the case when I tried my hand at selling furniture as a way to support my family.  I inevitably sent people home to “think about it” because I could not bear to be pushy.  Although, truth be told, I was never passionate about furniture, which is why I jumped at an office position as soon as one opened up.  But, if you get me started on something I am passionate about, like the gospel, I can’t shut up! And, while nothing will ever surpass the gospel or my children and grandchildren as far as passions go, I have apparently found a new one; quite unintentionally.

My daughter, a mother of two young boys, is very health conscious.  She is always looking for ways to do things naturally, removing as many additives and chemicals from their lives as possible.  Not too long ago she mentioned to me that she was interested in learning more about Essential Oils.  I nodded encouragingly, but I thought of it as just another trend du jour; something that all the young mothers-in-the-know were getting into.  Initially I paid little attention.  Then, as she learned more, she kept talking to me about it, and, wanting to be a supportive mom, I listened and asked a few questions.  When she signed up so that she could get a discount on the oils she was buying and offered me her discount on any products I might be interested in trying, I graciously ordered a couple of oils which I thought I might possibly use so that she could get money toward the oils she wanted to buy. 

You see where this is going, right?  You know that my shoulder and neck have been hurting since my car accident, despite pain meds and a chiropractor, so I wasn't expecting much when I tried one of the oil blends on that area; but, to my amazement, I got so much relief that I had the first good night’s sleep I’d had in months. Soon, I had my own discount, and a kit full of oils.  When one of the oil blends in my kit took away my toothache pain, which ibuprofen hadn’t even touched, I was hooked! 

While I am all for young mothers being proactive by trying to find ways of eliminating as many drugs and chemicals as possible from their children’s lives, you and I are Baby Boomers! We’re a part of that great generation which is now completely falling apart!  Most of us are walking pharmacies, probably in large part due to all of the drugs and chemicals we have been exposed to across the years. 

Case in point:  I have GERD (gastroesophageal reflux disease).  Before I discovered Proton Pump Inhibitors (like Prilosec, Nexium and Protonix) I lived in fear of waking up at night with the horrendously corrosive stomach acid backing up into my throat.  When that occurred, I couldn’t breathe and coughing only seemed to make it worse. It was a terrifying experience.  For me, those drugs were life-altering and I have taken them for many years. 

Then, recently, I began seeing articles about them. The first one was after I was diagnosed with osteopenia (bone loss), the forerunner of osteoporosis, where the bones become weak and brittle. The article indicated a possible link between that condition and PPI’s.

Then, I saw this article, which suggests a 44% higher risk of dementia for those using PPI’s. Forty-four percent!!!

And the final straw was this article regarding increased risk for heart attacks down the road, with use of PPI's.

I was stunned, and felt caught between a rock and a hard place! I couldn’t imagine going back to the dread of throat-paralyzing stomach acid, but the alternative looming possibilities certainly didn’t seem like a beneficial trade.

Enter oils.  I was pretty scared to stop the PPI’s, because I read that there would initially be an overproduction of acid, but I found an oil blend which I could take internally, a couple of drops in a teaspoon of honey, and it worked immediately to regulate and maintain!  I have only used it one to two times a week, and have experienced no problems at all!

A long time ago I was struck by the thought that there is simply no perfect way for humans to deal with all of the effects of living in a fallen world.  We do one thing and it unbalances something else and leads to a different set of problems.  As far as sin itself is concerned, there is a perfect answer, but it is not from any human wisdom or effort. It is the perfect sacrifice of God’s only Son; His perfectly obedient life for my sinful life; His torturous death as the penalty for sin, which should have been my penalty.

But, as far as the effects on our bodies, we do what we can to correct what we can and then trust our feeble frames to our faithful creator.  It’s all grace.

Love Always,

Bonnie

P.S. If you have any questions, email me at theoilofgrace@gmail.com

The Law of Retirement

Dear Old Friend,

I'm pretty sure that my letters to you will now primarily chronicle this new journey I have embarked upon called retirement.  This is actually week one of the “new normal” because immediately after my last day of work I took a road trip to attend my littlest grandson’s first birthday party which was exactly the kind of thing I looked forward to being able to do once I was able to choose what to do with my own time.  So, now that I’m back I decided today was the day to sit down and do some planning, some restructuring, in keeping with my new life.  I came armed with a calendar for a schedule and my plans. 

I had a plan for the daily upkeep of my house; a more detailed plan for sorting through each room and each closet and drawer in each room; a separate plan for attacking the laundry/storage room, which holds all of the accumulated treasures/junk from several generations of my family; a plan for writing; a plan for correspondence; a plan for handling finances; a plan for adding to my finances; a plan for grocery shopping; a plan for cooking; a plan for spending time with friends, which includes social media; a plan for spending time with my husband and extended family; a plan for spending time with God.  The idea was to work out a schedule which included time for all of that stuff, preferably making the things at the end of that list the first things on my schedule. 

Sheesh!  I was overwhelmed before I could start.  Every one of those things is important to me, but seeing them laid out before me as the expectations I had for myself, I immediately felt inadequate and demotivated.  Why? Because they stopped being the things I could hardly wait to do and became The Law of Retirement.

So, sitting at my dining room table with all of my good intentions spread out in front of me, I pondered my abrupt change of attitude.  The first question I asked myself was why I felt the need to make all those plans and put them on a schedule to begin with.  I had some logical reasons.  I wanted to be organized, not haphazard.  I thought I needed an overview of all I wanted to accomplish in order to prioritize and allow time for each of them.  In theory, my plan was to ensure that I would be able to do the fun things as well as the not so enjoyable things.  But, in reality, I discovered that lurking beneath my logic was my need to justify my decision to considerably reduce our income by becoming a stay-at-home retiree; which I recognized immediately as being amazingly similar to my need from decades earlier to justify being a stay-at-home mom.  

In our ‘you-are-what-you-do’ society, retirees don’t count for much.  The first question I got every time I told anyone that I was going to retire was, “What are you going to do?”  At least people know what stay-at-home-moms are going to do, even if some people absurdly view it as a menial unpaid position.  But, what purpose do retirees serve?  What gives our lives value?  We are supposed to have an answer ready which proves our worth and I was determined to have a schedule full!

That line of thinking also seemed an awful lot like the Christianity I grew up with:  Christians expecting other Christians to justify their existence.  ‘Your salvation cost Jesus his life, so what are you going to do in return?’ was the question, and we were supposed to have a ready answer to prove that we were not just freeloading off of Jesus’ grace.  I labored under that burden far too long until, blessedly, I learned that I already had all of the justification I needed in Christ, and that he never asked for or expected me to pay him back for his free gift.  He simply wanted me to live from the position of joy and relief at not having to fulfill some Law of Reimbursement.  And, the clearer and more real that became to me, the freer I was to share that good news with others and to do the things I actually wanted to do.

This brought me back to my Law of Retirement which, as laws always do, was accusing me before I even got started, placing me under its rules and obligations, making me its slave; at least that’s how I felt. So, I decided to apply my freedom in Christ in this situation, too.  I am not going to labor under the burden of trying to prove my worth or justify my existence, and I am pretty sure that the clearer and more real that becomes to me the freer I am going to feel to dive into everything I was going to do all along.

I feel better already!

Love Always,

Bonnie

Just Christ and Him Crucified

Dear Old Friend,

I haven’t written to you in a long time.  I regret that for a number of reasons, but mostly because, in losing touch with you I’m pretty sure I lost touch with “the basics”.  I’ve been very busy lately trying to understand things.  I’m certainly not saying there’s anything wrong with wanting to have a deeper understanding of spiritual truths, but I have found that there is a pit on that path into which you can fall; and right now I feel like I’m sitting in the bottom of that pit, too tired to climb back out.

My brain hurts.  I feel battle-weary and confused.  I’m not always the fastest or the brightest, but even I know this doesn’t feel like Good News.  I’ve been listening to lots of opinions as to what makes up that News, and there are almost as many different opinions as there are people as to what should or should not be included under that banner. 

Is there such a thing as grace on the ground? Should we as Christians constantly be striving, albeit poorly, to offer to others the same love, mercy and forgiveness we have been given; and, if we should, is there a limit? And, if there is, what would that limit look like? Or, is that strictly just my Old Adam trying to get some skin in the game? Should I think at all in terms of desiring to please God with my life, or is that a completely false way of thinking, because he is already well-pleased with me because of Christ?

If I feel good and happy when I have been given an opportunity to minister to someone, is that the Holy Spirit, or is that just me pridefully trying to take the credit which belongs to God alone?

If I think that Scripture seems to take for granted that Christians will be baptized and take communion, does that mean that I am adding something to salvation by grace alone, through faith alone in the finished work of Christ alone? 

Does “sanctification” mean to become more and more and more holy?  Can there actually be such a thing as “more” holy?  And, if there is, does it have anything to do with my improving moral behavior?

Does the fact that I want to be loved and accepted and try to act in ways which will bring about that result necessarily mean that I am wearing a mask?  And, is the answer, instead, for me to be totally vulnerable to other fallible human beings who “should” respect me for it and then let down their guard in return, but who are much more likely to never quite look me in the eye again?

You know what?  I don’t know!  On any given day I might just give you a different answer to any of the questions above, and probably not even realize it.  It’s even quite likely that I have given different answers to those questions on the same day; maybe even in the same conversation.  And, I am just about as certain that is true of everyone I have been listening to as well.

Are these important questions? Yes.  Are there absolute answers to those questions?  Maybe.  Probably. Do I know of anyone who knows all of the answers?  Besides God, no.  There might be, but at this point I am not aware of just who that person or group is; and, at this moment, I am tired of trying to figure it out.

At this moment, I just need to know that Jesus loves me, despite the fact that I might not have every jot and tittle of my theology figured out.  I need to know that his love for me is no more dependent on my total grasp of grace than it was on my total obedience to the law.  I need to have God “restore unto me the joy of my salvation.”  I want to stop worrying about getting it right and rest in my Savior’s arms.  For right now I’m deciding to know nothing but “Jesus Christ and him crucified.”

And I just wanted to say that to someone who loves me as I am.  Thank you for being that someone for me.

Love Always,

Bonnie

Fears and Faceplants

 

Dear Old Friend,

As you know, I just came back from helping to take care of my precious four year old grandson who had a very serious infection in his foot, which began to spread up his leg, and initially wasn’t responding to antibiotics.  It was a pretty scary time!  I am so grateful for all of the people who prayed and for all of the people at home and at work who were so supportive and made it possible for me to go.  My daughter needed the help and rest and I was so glad to be able to give her a break and to spend time with my sweet boy in the hospital.

Because he was being given IV antibiotics, my grandson had been stuck with needles repeatedly in order to find a good vein.  In addition, blood had to be drawn periodically to be cultured, and it could not be tainted with the antibiotic, so this required sticking him again.  Each incident was pure torment, with that precious child crying and begging them as politely as he could to please stop.  It was heartbreaking! As a result, every single time anyone came into the room, he would eye them suspiciously and ask, “Why are you here?” Explaining to him that the nurses and technicians were only doing these things to help him get better did absolutely nothing to allay his fears. Eventually, even when there wasn't anything being done to him which was hurting him, he would cry and scream anyway, in fearful expectation that it would. 

Once the IV antibiotics finally took hold and got things under control, the goal was to get him ready to go home with oral antibiotics; but, sadly, after repeated failed attempts to get him to swallow and keep the medicine down, it was decided that a PICC line had to be put in his arm so that he could continue IV antibiotics at home.  Because that line was inserted surgically, thankfully he did not have to feel the pain of another IV stick; but, when he woke up and we explained that, with his new line, he would not feel any pain when the nurses hooked him up to the antibiotic or flushed the line, he didn’t believe us!  He still cried each time they touched the new line until he finally realized that we were right.

Once they were satisfied that the PICC line was functioning properly and that my daughter understood how to properly care for it and was comfortable with administering the antibiotics herself, my grandson was finally released.  While he was in the hospital, because he was not feeling well, he had been content to quietly play on his iPad, listen to books and watch television, but once he was home and feeling better he was full of pent up four-year-old energy.  Unfortunately, he still had to be careful with his PICC line and had to limit the use of his foot.  Consequently, he would play quietly until he couldn’t stand it any longer, and then he would suddenly become a little wild man.  He would jump and roar, laugh and throw himself around trying to release some of that energy. 

On one occasion he decided that standing on the sofa next to me and then falling face down into my lap was a great idea.  I tried to dissuade him, to no avail; so, every time he fell I would catch him to keep him from face planting into the arm of the couch or crash landing onto the floor.  Fortunately he does not weigh a lot, but it was still a challenge to catch a launching child who was all flailing arms and legs!

After a number of death-defying leaps, he became upset that I was catching him.  He interpreted my actions as attempts to prevent him from doing what he wanted to do, rather than as life-saving interventions.  As his frustration mounted and my explanations of why I was doing what I was doing failed to mollify him, I finally told him that we needed to stop this little game; then, because my daughter called me at that moment, I stood up to go into the other room.

Rather than stopping his acrobatic feats when I turned my back, my grandson saw only a great opportunity to do exactly what he had wanted to do all along, now that I was out of the way; and, you can imagine what happened next:  He face planted directly into the arm of the sofa and wailing ensued!

While I comforted a very sad little boy and explained that this was exactly what I had been trying to prevent (a pious way of saying ‘I told you so’), God made a point of reminding me that I had no room to be self-righteous, because my grandson and I are a lot alike.

When the trials of life come, I quickly become terrified of what pain might lie ahead for me or for those who matter the most to me.  It makes no difference to me that God might be doing something beneficial, I still become suspicious of his goodness and distrustful of his love. I am certain that I know what is best, and I resent what I perceive to be God’s efforts at keeping me from getting what I desire.  I have even been known to propel myself headlong into situations where I know God doesn’t want me to go; but, instead of telling me ‘I told you so’ or getting angry with me when I get hurt, God always picks me up, gently takes me in his arms and tells me that he loves me and understands my fears.  He whispers to me about how, because he knows my frailty, he sent his son to rescue me, even when I wasn’t ready to admit I needed to be rescued; and, he assures me that there is nothing I could ever do which would separate me from his love.  He simply gives me grace.

No matter how old we get, my grandson and I will always be God’s precious children and we will always need that grace!

Love Always,

Bonnie

When It's Not Safe to Pray

Dear Old Friend,

After all of the years we’ve known each other, you know that I am a great believer in prayer.  I pray about everything, big and small.  In my opinion there is nothing too insignificant to bring to God; I believe he’s not too busy to care about even silly things like lost keys.  He’s a God of tiny details like the number of hairs on my head, so I never worry that I’m bothering him with my seemingly insignificant requests.

I also know there’s nothing too big for God to take on.  I’ve seen magnificent “yes” answers to prayers about huge things, where the seemingly impossible happens.  I have also witnessed “no” answers to prayers, where God in his infinite wisdom had other plans.  Prayer has then helped me to accept God’s sovereignty.   

I have also always counseled others to pray.  If I’m asked to impart wisdom about a particular situation, I may offer my thoughts and then recommend that they not rely on my judgment, but rather bring their questions to God in prayer and he will give them the true wisdom they need; but, often I simply decline to offer my opinion and send them straight to prayer.  I didn’t realize just how frequently I gave that answer until my daughter told me about a conversation she had with my son-in-law who was struggling with something.  She suggested that he call and talk to me.  He smiled and said, “I don’t have to call her because I already know what she will say.  She will tell me to pray.”

I’m only telling you this so that you can put into context how odd it is for me to say that there are things about which I have learned it is not safe for me to pray.  I have so much emotional investment in these specific issues, that when I pray I become utterly desperate, to the point of demanding that God give me the “yes” answer I believe I must have.  I rail and wail; I beg and plead; I work myself into a frenzy and feel myself drawing a line in the sand, belligerently declaring in my heart, if not in words, that if God doesn’t give me what I am asking for, I am done; and when I finish praying I feel terribly alone.

I am sad to admit that scene has played itself out many times; but, thankfully, what God has taught me is that, even when I have followed that path, and I feel like the Incredible Hulk who has just alienated God with my rage, he does not leave me alone.  He understands what prompted my desperation and loves me, and assures me that he is big enough to handle my fear and anger.  But he has also taught me that I am much better off when I simply do not go down that road.

The alternative, for me, is to stop when the panic starts to rise, and tell God, “You know how I feel”, and leave it at that.  If that doesn’t stop the desperation, I have some precious friends, like you, to whom I know I can turn, and ask to pray for me.  I don’t just mean “pray for me”, in the way we typically mean, but, to pray instead of me; to pray in my place; to pray because it is not safe for me to pray. 

When I do that, I always feel the prayers wash over me and I have an immediate sense of peace.  The pure grace of God extended to me through those who love me.  I am writing this to you because I find myself once again in need of those prayers.  I cannot tell you how much it means to know that you will pray in my stead.

Thank you, dear friend.

Love Always,

Bonnie

 

Red Light, Green Light...Blue Light?

 

Dear Old Friend,

As you know I just came back from visiting my three year old and five month old grandsons.  I had so much fun!  There is so much difference between how I was with my children and how I am as a Grammie.  Maybe this whole idea of a second childhood is at its best when it comes to playing with your grandchildren.  I play with great abandon.  I’m silly and spontaneous and inventive.  I was never like that with my kids.  When I found time to play, I remember it being pretty unimaginative and regimented.  Maybe this had something to do with feeling the weight of responsibility for teaching them something important in every activity.  I don’t feel a bit of that weight with my grandsons and I absolutely love the freedom. 

I have also discovered that I am the one who is learning the important things as I play with them.  Since little children have not yet become sophisticated at disguising their human natures, I can clearly see myself and all of us in the way they approach life.  I have an example I thought you would enjoy.  My daughter was playing an impromptu game of red-light-green-light with her three year old.  He would run until she said “red light”, then he had to stop where he was and wait for her to say “green light”, at which point he would run again.  This reminded them both of something they had done before which they enjoyed.  They taped red, green and yellow pieces of construction paper on the floor.  The idea was to start at a green square, run until you hit a yellow square, which meant you had to slow down, and then finally come to a complete stop on a red square.  I could see that this game had many practical applications.  It taught color recognition as well as the concept of traffic lights, and, it even taught the importance of obeying the law.

The three year old was dispatched to fetch the construction paper while my daughter got the tape.  He came back excitedly with a handful of colorful papers, including blue.  My daughter proceeded to tape the green, red and yellow “lights” at various intervals around the house, but my grandson insisted that he wanted to tape the blue paper, too.  My daughter patiently explained what each of the colored “lights” represented and encouraged him to stick to just those three.  He was fine for a few minutes, faithfully following the path and its instructions; running, slowing, stopping, then running again.  But soon he was quiet and we saw that he was taping the blue “lights” to the floor.  My daughter tried to reason with him, but he was adamant, so she shook her head, shrugged her shoulders and let him continue. 

Soon my grandson was attempting to follow the path, but, because even he didn’t know what he should do when he came to a blue square, he lost focus and was soon just running aimlessly.  My daughter finally called out to him in a frustrated voice, “See; now you are just running with total disregard for the law!”

I thought that was hilarious, but my daughter didn’t think it was nearly as funny as I did.  All I could think was that we are all just like my grandson.  God gave us the law, which, if learned and followed, would make our lives so much simpler and more pleasant; but, we just can’t do it.  We insist on going our own way, sticking in our blue meaningless squares, and once we have gotten our way we lose all focus and are soon running in total disregard for the law. 

The consequences of our actions have more of an eternal significance, however, than those of my three year old grandson; so, knowing that about us and loving us, God sent his son to follow all of the rules for us, and then credited us with his perfect obedience.  His son then took all of the punishment for our willful disobedience, so that we would not have to.  Such an unbelievable gift!

We come from the womb with little rebel hearts, don’t we!  It sure is a good thing our Father loves us so much.               

Love Always,

Bonnie

We Can Never Fulfill The Law of Forgiveness

Dear Old Friend,

When we got together last week, you mentioned listening to and being troubled by a recent sermon given by a guest speaker at a church we have come to look to as the place where we can always count on hearing the Gospel. The sermon was about the Parable of the Unforgiving Servant found in Matthew 18:21-35.  You asked me some questions about the sermon because it confused you and made you fearful; but since I had not yet heard the sermon, I felt that I could not respond until I had.  I just finished listening, and want to offer my thoughts.

 I will include the passage of scripture here for convenience:

²¹ Then Peter came up and said to him, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” ²² Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy-seven times.

²³ “Therefore the kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who wished to settle accounts with his servants. ²⁴ When he began to settle, one was brought to him who owed him ten thousand talents.  And since he could not pay, his master ordered him to be sold, with his wife and children and all that he had, and payment to be made. ²⁶ So the servant fell on his knees, imploring him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you everything.’ ²⁷ And out of pity for him, the master of that servant released him and forgave him the debt. ²⁸ But when that same servant went out, he found one of his fellow servants who owed him a hundred denarii, and seizing him, he began to choke him, saying, ‘Pay what you owe.’ ²⁹ So his fellow servant fell down and pleaded with him, ‘Have patience with me, and I will pay you.’ ³⁰ He refused and went and put him in prison until he should pay the debt. ³¹ When his fellow servants saw what had taken place, they were greatly distressed, and they went and reported to their master all that had taken place. ³² Then his master summoned him and said to him, ‘You wicked servant! I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me. ³³ And should not you have had mercy on your fellow servant, as I had mercy on you?’ ³⁴ And in anger his master delivered him to the jailers, until he should pay all his debt. ³⁵ So also my heavenly Father will do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother from your heart.”

For me, the key to understanding this passage is looking at the context in which Jesus told the story, which includes the question he was answering, the person to whom he was speaking and the point in history during which he spoke.

In the preceding verses, (Matthew 18:15-20) Jesus had given the steps which should be followed when a brother sins against you.  Jesus’ discourse prompted Peter to go up to him afterward and ask the question in verse 21, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” At the heart of it, Peter was asking Jesus to quantify, or actually codify, forgiveness.  In other words, he wanted Jesus to give him The Law of Forgiveness, so that he could follow it. 

Those of us who are living after Christ’s death and resurrection, and after the Holy Spirit came at Pentecost and began to illuminate, apply and interpret for us who Jesus was, what he did and why he did it, want to read this parable as if it was being told to us, with all of our knowledge of those things; but, it was being told to Peter during a time before Jesus died, while he knew only the Law, and was still laboring under the belief that he must obey and was capable of obeying it in order to please God.

Because Peter was asking Jesus to give him The Law of Forgiveness, thinking he could then obey it, Jesus did exactly what he did in the Sermon on the Mount, he broadened and deepened the concept of forgiveness to show Peter the impossibility of what he was thinking.

He began by telling Peter that his estimate of how many times he should be expected to forgive, which I’m sure Peter thought was generous, was actually pitiful.  Jesus told him the number wasn’t seven times, it was seventy-seven times, which didn’t really mean that at seventy-eight Peter could cut his brother off, it represented the idea of infinite forgiveness; forgiveness without limit.

Then he illustrated what he said by telling the parable to Peter; prior to his death and resurrection, prior to the illumination of the Holy Spirit regarding that death and resurrection.  He told the parable to Peter, who was trying to learn the rules so that he could keep them.  He told the story to Peter so that after Jesus’ death and resurrection, after Peter’s denial of Jesus, after the Holy Spirit interpreted the parable to him, he would remember and understand.

Because our minds are, by nature, as saturated by Law as Peter’s, when we read this parable we will always initially see it from that perspective. The King forgave this man an unimaginably vast debt.  It was obvious to everyone listening that the servant’s response to that amazing gift of mercy and forgiveness should have been to go out and do likewise; but, instead, against everything the listener knew to be right, the man went out and hunted down someone who owed him a few bucks, strangled him and threw him in prison until he could pay the debt.  The ungrateful servant is clearly a villain, and everyone listening to the parable then, and reading it now, understands the justice of what the King did in the end, when he withdrew his mercy and handed the servant over to the jailers, or, in the original Greek, the torturers, until his debt could be paid.  Then, after the parable, when Jesus says that God will do the same to all of us if we don’t forgive our brother from the heart, we are terrified, but there is nothing any of us can say.

We who know the story of salvation have nothing to say because anyone with a shred of self-awareness recognizes themselves as the unworthy servant.  We see that the story simply describes us. We are all capable of being grateful for the tremendous miracle of forgiveness which we have been given and being simultaneously unforgiving toward others; and we are so dim-witted we often don’t even recognize the incongruity of it at the time.  Through this parable we recognize our guilt and know that we deserve the same fate as the servant.  We see that, standing before the God who sent his Son to pay our monumental debt, we are without excuse.

That is what the law does, it diagnoses us; it strips us bare and exposes our sin so that our mouths are silenced.

That is what Jesus is intentionally doing to Peter and his desire to know the parameters of what was expected from him as far as forgiveness, because he thought he could do it.  Did Peter recognize himself in the story at that point? Probably not; because he did not know the Gospel yet.  But, after his denial of Jesus; after Jesus’ death and resurrection; after He was forgiven his own monumental debt; after Jesus’ ascension into heaven and after the Holy Spirit explained all that Jesus said and did, I’m sure that Peter finally understood.

This parable of Law did not end with the relief of the Gospel because Jesus himself had not yet fulfilled the Law and become the Good News.  But we who know the Good News can now see that the point of this parable is that no matter how well we are treated by anyone up to and including God, we will never be able to parlay that into a motivation strong enough to enable us to perfectly forgive our brother from the heart.  Despite all of the grace given to us, we will still dim-wittedly hunt down our debtors and hound them, even while we are yet within the shadow of the palace in which we received our forgiveness, because that is who we are.  If we are counting on ourselves to finally get it right and fulfill the Law of Forgiveness, we will fail and receive the only fate our efforts have earned and deserve.

Our only hope is to recognize our utter helplessness and total dependency on the forgiveness which God has given us because Christ was handed over to the torturers until our debt was paid in full.  Should we offer others the same mercy and forgiveness we have been given? Of course! Will we? Sometimes; hopefully increasingly. But, regardless, we can rest securely in the knowledge that God will not revoke his mercy and forgiveness to us in the face of our unfaithfulness because it is forever based solely on the faithfulness of his Son on our behalf.

Don’t be afraid, my dear friend, take comfort in this:  Because we are in Christ, “If we are faithless, he will remain faithful, for he cannot disown himself.” 2 Timothy 2:13.

Love Always,

Bonnie