Then What Are You Going To Celebrate?

I love Easter. It's long been my favorite holiday. We haven't really put any umph into celebrating it since we got married and started our family. I'm not really sure why. I'm mean if you aren't going to celebrate the conquering of sin and death and the triumph of good over evil then what are you going to celebrate? Anyway, we decided this year that we had gone long enough without celebrating the greatest event in human history and it was time we did it up a little around here. So we put on our Sunday best, filled some baskets with delectable goodies and beloved little notions, threw a ham in oven and some other yummies on the stove top, hid some plastic eggs and gathered together with family to party like it was AD 33.

Of course no human party could ever be party enough to be worthy of what our Savior did for us on those blessed days so many years ago and what He is still doing all around us as He works so masterfully to make all things new in this broken world that He redeemed on that day. But He knows that. That is what is Easter is about partly...Jesus knowing what it means to be human. He knows that when we humans are happy about something we throw a party. I know Jesus enjoyed a good party.

We are really happy around here that God loved this world even though it was full of sin. That He loved us humans even though we hated him. We are happy that He sent His Son down here to live among us. To know what it is like to be frail and small and weak and surrounded by loud and fearsome temptation. We are happy that His blessed Son lived perfectly among us, knowing all of our temptations but never once giving in to them. We are so humbled and happy that this sinless Man, God's own Son, laid down and died at the hands of sinful men for the sin of the world. For our sin. For our sin upon sin. And we are really happy that this Prince of Life didn't stay dead, but rose from the dead three days after His beautiful sacrifice crushing the power that death and evil have over the world and that since we believe in him we are no longer subject to those terrible tyrannts. We have a new King. A good King. A King who is making all things new. We are really, really, really happy about that. So today we had a long overdue party to celebrate.

And for me it was my best Easter ever...

Well, except for maybe that one seven years ago when this man among men...

...took me to the top of a mountain at sunrise and gave me this:

God Makes People Mad All The Time.

If you like making people mad this post is not for you. I know there are people in the world who do like making people mad and they need someone else to speak into their lives because all I would say would be "Hey, stop making people mad. It's making me feel uncomfortable." And really how helpful is that?

If, however, making people mad makes you miserable -- welcome to my world. I hate making people mad. I hate disappointing people. I hate burdening them or annoying them. These are some of the worst feelings I can think of and ones that I avoid at many costs. Earlier this week I realized this is something that I avoid at too many costs.

I was "playing" outside with my girls on a beautiful morning. Actually I was ignoring them and brushing off their excited comments so I could focus on doing something that was a total waste of time and that I wasn't even enjoying. Why? Because someone (who is not a regular reader of my blog nor a family member and so probably not you) had suggested it to me and I knew if I didn't finish by that afternoon they would find out and know I hadn't taken their suggestion.

All of a sudden (probably after shushing one of my kids or saying "Oh nice." and not even looking up at the dirt mound they had built) I asked myself. "Why the heck am I still doing this?" and before I had time to contrive a good reason I answered myself (Yes, that IS what crazy people do.) "So I won't make {REDACTED} mad."

Wow. And I had to admit that was the whole reason I was doing it. Not another reason at all was even contributing to it. Because I didn't want to risk disappointing someone I was neglecting the important for what in this case was utterly pointless. Ouch.

And then I had the most liberating thought I have had in a while. God makes people mad all the time. He is perfect and He is good and He is kind and He IS love and yet he manages to make millions of people angry every single day. I place a high value on how much what I do will please or displease others. It was huge epiphany for me to realize that in this way I was not sharing God's values. When Jesus was on Earth he made people angry too. He made them angry enough to kill him. I let whether or not something will anger or disappoint someone be the deciding factor in whether or not I do a lot. It wouldn't be too much of a stretch to say I do that all the time. That's not what Jesus did.

I thought I was thinking of others by not wanting to make them mad, but in reality I was thinking of myself. I wasn't trying to prevent the suffering of others I was trying to mitigate my own discomfort by making sure by whatever means I felt necessary people were rarely displeased with me. My avoidance of the anger of others is nothing like godliness. It is definitely not Christlike. At root it is selfishness and one thing I know about selfishness is that it makes everything worse.

So where do I go from here? Start making people mad on purpose? Stop considering at all how my actions will affect others? No, of course not. As Sissy would say, "Thas not kind!" As Afton would say, "Now you're just being wacky." I think I need to stop dressing up my own self-protective tendencies like they are sacrificial love and learn to really love sacrificially the way Jesus did. His unselfishness, love, and willingness to sacrifice are unmatched in history but he was not afraid of the anger of men. I think the more I grow to be like Him the less afraid of it I will be as well.

Flowering Weeds

Two of my new friends here in South Carolina lost babies to miscarriages last week. Babies that they loved and were looking forward to meeting. Babies who would have loved the sweet mommies they were born to. These particular girls have been two of the friendliest and most welcoming people I have met in my new home. I am thankful for them and now I am deeply saddened that such a heartbreaking circumstance has befallen people who have been so kind to me. I have wept while writing this paragraph and it has taken me much longer to write it than it took for you to read it.

Five years ago we lost our first baby to a miscarriage. I didn't much feel like talking about it then and have very rarely talked about it since. When I do mention it it is always in an all business kind of way. I will state the fact that it happened and whatever details surrounding it that are pertinent to the conversation at hand. But I don't...go there. I don't open my heart to any feelings whatsoever surrounding the matter. It is a closed case. Miscarriages happen all the time and one happened to me. Done.

Or so I thought. But then when my friends started having experiences I knew too well those long ignored feelings made their presence known again. The feelings that start when you see blood where blood shouldn't be when you're pregnant. The feelings that grow when the bleeding doesn't stop even as you are trying to convince yourself that it is getting lighter. The feelings that crash down around you when some medical person tells that what you have feared and hoped against and prayed against has happened. Your baby is gone and you will not hold it until heaven. The feelings that sink in when you realize your baby will always be called it. Never him or her. Loud, ugly, painful feelings. Feelings that you don't want and don't know what to do with. Feelings you try to hide when someone asks you how you are. I hate those feelings. I hate that the commonness of miscarriages means that those awful feelings are common too. I hate that the commonness of such awful feelings doesn't make them any less awful. If anything it just makes them more infuriating. I hate all of that.

But in revisiting the emotions of losing a baby I reminded of another kind of feeling I had back then. A feeling that is beautiful and is odd in that it only accompanies the darkest and most terrible of feelings. The kind of peace and hope that only show up in the midst of real fear and despair. The supernatural assurance of God's goodness that is only relevant when everything in you wants to ask how He could be so cruel. The joy that God saves aside for only his children who are experiencing profound sorrow. It's a kind of feeling I can't explain. Supernatural is the best word I've got for it. I think it is commonly called grace.

My miscarriage took place in Italy. I spent a week in an Italian hospital. I had left my home at the end of winter. What was supposed to be a quick four day trip to welcome my brother back from Afghanistan turned into two weeks in a strange place going through the most excruciating experience of my life. While I was gone winter turned into early spring. When I stepped out of my car after the long flight and ride home my yard was covered in purple flowers. Weeds really, but they were flowering weeds, and they were where nothing but winter deadness had been when I left. They said to me in a way no human could have gotten away with "Life goes on." Not in a trite shruggy oh-well-better-luck-next-time kinda way. But in the resounding way of a trustworthy promise. LIFE - real life, the kinda life God makes - goes on and on and on even in this world so broken that an innocent baby isn't even safe in the womb of the mother who loves it. That is what those flowering weeds said to me. My yard wasn't covered in flowers my yard was covered in grace.

I was away this weekend while my friends were just beginning to grapple with their loss. In my prayers for them I kept coming back to those flowering weeds. I asked God to send them something like that. Some kind of visible, palpable grace that is louder than their pain and that is kinder than this world is cruel. I believe that He will.

When I arrived home on Monday my yard that I had left in the dead of winter just days before was full of those same purple flowers I first noticed all those years ago.

His mercy endures forever.

Something Other Than God

What Satan put into the heads of our remote ancestors was the idea that they could "be like gods" -- could set up on their own as if they had created themselves -- be their own masters -- invent some sort of happiness for themselves outside God, apart from God. And out of that hopeless attempt has come nearly all that we call human history -- money, poverty, ambition, war, prostitution, classes, empires, slavery -- the long terrible story of man trying to find something other than God which will make him happy.

C.S. Lewis

Mere Christianity

Happy Fall Ya'll

Seasons change, children grow up, we grow older, the world stays on track, all things pass, time marches on. God is so good. He's so good to me.

Jesus I Come

Out of my bondage, sorrow and night,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into Thy freedom, gladness, and light,
Jesus, I come to Thee;
Out of my sickness, into Thy health,
Out of my want and into Thy wealth,
Out of my sin and into Thyself,
Jesus, I come to Thee.

Out of my shameful failure and loss,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into the glorious gain of Thy cross,
Jesus, I come to Thee;
Out of earth’s sorrows, into Thy balm,
Out of life’s storms and into Thy calm,
Out of distress to jubilant psalm,
Jesus, I come to Thee.

Out of unrest and arrogant pride,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into Thy blessed will to abide,
Jesus, I come to Thee;
Out of myself to dwell in Thy love,
Out of despair, into raptures above,
Upward for aye on wings like a dove,
Jesus, I come to Thee.

Out of the fear and dread of the tomb,
Jesus, I come, Jesus, I come;
Into the joy and light of Thy home,
Jesus, I come to Thee;
Out of the depths of ruin untold,
Into the peace of Thy sheltering fold,
Ever Thy glorious face to behold,
Jesus, I come to Thee.

~ William Sleeper

and hear the angels sing!

And ye, beneath life's crushing load

Whose forms are bending low,


Who toil along the climbing way


With painful steps and slow,


Look, now! for glad and golden hours


Come swiftly on the wing


O rest beside the weary load


and hear the angels sing!



IT CAME UPON A MIDNIGHT CLEAR
Edmund H. Sears

Amen.

A prayer from The Valley of Vision :

SPIRITUS SANCTUS

O HOLY SPIRIT,
As the sun is full of light, the ocean full of water,
Heaven full of glory, so may my heart be full of thee.
Vain are all purposes of divine love
and the redemption by Jesus
except thou work within,
regenerating by thy power,
giving me eyes to see Jesus
showing me to the realities of the unseen world.
Give me thyself without measure,
as an unimpaired fountain,
as inexhaustible riches.
I bewail my coldness, poverty, emptiness,
imperfect vision, languid service,
prayerless prayers, praiseless praise.
Suffer me not to grieve or resist thee.
Come as power,
to expel every rebel lust, to reign supreme and keep me thine;
Come as teacher,
leading me into all truth, filling me with all understanding;
Come as love,
that I may adore the Father, and love him as my all;
Come as joy,
to dwell in me, move in me, animate me;
Come as light,
illuminating the Scripture, moulding me to its laws;
Come as sanctifier,
body, soul and spirit wholly thine;
Come as helper,
with strength to bless and keep, directing my every step;
Come as beautifier,
bringing order out of confusion, loveliness out of chaos.
Magnify to me thy glory by being magnified in me,
and make me redolent of thy fragrance.

So be it.

The Throne of Grace

"for whatever reason God chose to make man as he is -- limited and suffering and subject to sorrows and death -- he [God] had the honesty and courage to take his own medicine. Whatever game he is playing with his creation, he has kept his own rules and played fair. He can exact nothing from man that he has not exacted from himself. He has himself gone through the whole of human experience, from the trivial irritations of family life and the cramping restrictions of hard work and lack of money to the worst horrors of pain and humiliation, defeat, despair, and death. When he was a man, he played them man. He was born in poverty and died in disgrace and thought it all well worth it.

~Dorothy Sayers
Letters to a Diminished Church

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have on who has been tempted in every way, just as we are -- yet was without sin. Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.

Hebrews 4:15 & 16