Fighting the Undertow

un·der·tow [uhn-der-toh] noun

1. the seaward, subsurface flow or draft of water from waves breaking on a beach.

2. any strong current below the surface of a body of water, moving in a direction different from that of the surface current.

[from dictionary.com]

One of the things I've been struck with the most lately is something I wrote in my last entry:

Life continues on. It doesn't seem like it will when we see the charred remains and ash is still resting on your car in the morning. But, one day, you drive home and realize the smoke isn't pluming into the sky any longer. One day, it does begin to rain. You celebrate another birthday, another homecoming.

But today, I'm still a little overwhelmed. I am, however, praising God for the rain, for the fact that He protects, and for the blessed assurance that He both sees and knows each and every one of us. 

And it's true. Life continues on. It has after several horrible and tragic events occurred, as it has for millenia. Fires destroyed houses and lives. Cancer has walked people we love into incredible places of faith. A gunman took lives in a movie theater, of all places.

It is nothing new to me that life is hard, but I too easily stuff it away and let it simmer under the surface, which is what I've had to fight for the past few years as I've moved my way out of depression - because if I don't fight the undertow of this world's trajectory, it is too easy to be pulled under.

So I've been in hiding, to a large degree.

As an introvert, I expend incredible amounts of emotional energy to be around people. It's not that I don't love people - because I really do - it's just that it takes me longer to recharge after being social. The fact that I now work most days in a given week means I'm now social more days every week.

It's good, and it stretches me, but it's been hard to recharge in ways that are effective, and so this blog has taken a back seat, and I want to apologize for that.

Christopher and I were talking the other day about how freestyle isn't really the most efficient use of your energy (because we went swimming, so we were talking about it), and how if we were in the middle of the ocean (I'm assuming there would be no sharks to eat us, but maybe he thought differently), we would want to do something that was more efficient to get us through the waves and back to land (eventually, because the ocean is BIG).

And I think that's kind of where I've been. I don't splash around a lot on the surface, making it look like I'm trying to make my way through the water - I'd rather slip underwater and glide with the current rather than try to fight the waves (like with a nice breaststroke). But I've definitely been processing under the surface - lives being changed by fire and cancer, a former classmate's death in a movie theater, and even the stupid stuff that really doesn't matter so much like our cars both getting hit in the church parking lot in a freakish accident that I'll get into later this week.

It's not that I'm completely processed, but I'm working on getting there, and I'm now at the stage in my processing where I really should be writing a lot more than I am, so maybe you'll hear a little bit more from me.

But what it all boils down to is that Jesus is the only way for me to fight the undertow. The grace that rescues me in this life and allows me to stand in His presence in the next is the only force that isn't degrading from this world's entropy - His grace won't get shot down in the middle of the night by a crazy man; it won't burn with the hottest of blazes; and it will always be in mint condition (unlike our car).

And I have to cling to that, even when it seems like there's nothing to do but to keep swimming and make it to land somehow. It's the only thing that can keep this world from pulling me under.

Thursday Thoughts: The Reality of the Gospel for Everyday Life

I am a pleaser. Sometimes this is a good thing (such as the fact that I work hard and diligently as a result) and sometimes it is a bad thing (because I too easily find my moods and worth in how others value what I do and not in its natural value or what I might assign to it). If I don't feel a project will please, I often don't even start it.

When I feel as if I'm failing, I tend to shy away from the foot of the Cross to which I so readily cling. I try to hide my failure, even from the God who so clearly has seen it all and loves me regardless.

But there is compassion for the taking at Jesus' feet! I love Bethany Dillon's song, "Be Near Me":

All I have ever wanted -
and what men have given their lives for -
is a God who understands my weaknesses, a God that I can love.

I cannot believe You are angry or unjust -
You've done nothing but have compassion on us.
So be near when I've given up. Be near me.

Compassion is what stirs me from my hiding. It is the very heart of God in so many ways! Compassion gives life, and takes us from our hiding in the darkness and brings us into the glorious light of life in the Son of God! It lifts our eyes from our failure and brings an understanding of Christ's heart near to us.

Knowing myself and knowing the incredible depths of folly to which I succumb so readily, it is awe-inspiring and humbling to serve a God who understands my weaknesses and failures without my having to bring them out of the dark cubby where I like to hide them.

He is not angry or unjust. Perhaps one of the greatest misconceptions about Christianity is that God exists as a large Judge in the sky, waiting to rain judgement and dole out apt punishment - but I am so grateful that is not an accurate picture of the God I fail and fall before daily!

It is true that He will act as Righteous Judge - He is holy, righteous in all His ways, and any violation of His character by us deserves eternal punishment. We have to start with God. When we start with ourselves, we always will fail in answering the important questions about life here on this round, rotating rock flying in space.

But He is compassionate! Jesus was not a mistake and is not just a man that people follow and cling to blindly. In His knowledge, God set Jesus as the Lamb Slain on the Altar of God before our world was ever born. Just as a parent anticipates the birth of a child, so God looked forward to our arrival. But He knew our sin against His holy nature could too easily separate us from Him as our Father.

So He sent Jesus, fully man in His limitations and fully God in His glory. And He was sent, from the first, to die for us.

Before we were born, God took those steps to prepare for our arrival and to ensure that we would not be wrested from His grasp by others who would claim us as their own.

Before I was born! I need the reality of this in my heart every day or I try to hide behind all that is already exposed and dealt with in the economy of mercy.

Thursday Thoughts: The Heart of Peter

Today was one of those days where (since I usually have most of my "quiet time" with God at day's end, when I function best) I forget by the end of the day that I spent quite a bit of time at His feet in the morning... Days like that are few and far between, more than they should be. I remembered this morning both why I should get up before the sun breaks and why I don't. Graciously, God's strength carries me through, but that's not entirely normal - especially when I'm dead tired and sitting in a Starbucks at 6:30 a.m.

Regardless, recent days when I've been able to get up and function, I have been greatly blessed with rest for my soul and by an in-depth study of Peter's letters (I & II Peter). Chris encouraged me months ago to sift through these epistles, and I put them off as I read Psalms and did other things. Just before going to Phoenix, I had the opportunity to start I Peter, and worked my way through most of it while sitting in Eddie and Jen's living room in fellowship while we all read and sought God on our own - together, with some questions and debates thrown in (as only the four of us can). Then, as I sat alone last Saturday while the rest of the family went skiing, I worked my way through II Peter.

I'd like to share some of what I gleaned from these eight beautiful chapters and the heart of Peter. I feel II Peter 3:1-2a sum things up quite nicely (though you might not think so at first glance):

This is now the second letter that I am writing to you, beloved. In both of them I am stirring up your sincere mind by way of reminder, that you should remember...

Peter goes on to list several things, but as I read this first piece of the final chapter, I was struck by how Peter entreats these people that he loves so dearly to remember, to remind themselves. So the natural question, especially after he references both of his letters, is: "What is he trying to remind them of?"

In reviewing notes from both letters, I came away with five key items:

1) Grace is costly. Jesus Christ was really God, humbled in human form for the sake of our redemption. He really died on a cross, nailed there, with a crown of thorns. And there were witnesses still alive in the generation reading this letter for the first time who saw Jesus Christ walk again alive on this earth after His death. This is the turning point of salvation - any other Gospel than costly grace is a false gospel.

2) Because a great price was paid for our redemption, we respond by living uprightly in the freedom we now have from the corrupting power of sin. This upright living does not justify us before the throne of Almighty God - it is merely our response to correctly understanding the complete purchase and power of the blood of Christ at Calvary.

3) This understanding leads to compassion and subsequently to unity within the Church, the body of Christ. Because we understand that we have been forgiven much, we are able to forgive much and love much. We find unity with those whom we would otherwise have no reason to be in the same room with, much less to love and unite with in a common purpose for life. This unity protects us from false teachers and creates a shelter for us from the challenges of living in earthly kingdoms.

4) Because Christ's rescue and redemption is beautiful and complete, we can also entrust judgement to Him. Life will be hard. Circumstances will arise in which we have no earthly response available to us other than to continue on in faith, trusting that He will ultimately make things right as He has in our salvation, and that He will judge those who have gone against His kingdom and His children. We need not fear what man can do to us - we only need concern ourselves with continuing onward in His promises.

5) Faith in Christ's victory over our sin and its death means salvation is ours! He has overcome the grave and the corruption of sin that so easily entangles our souls. We can trust that salvation is ours because of the other four pieces. It is a beautiful, beautiful thing.

Since last Friday, I have been listening to Bethany Dillon's "Satisfy" off of her To Those Who Wait EP (which was released last Friday). I had enough money to buy one song, and that was the one I chose. I can't stop listening to it. I need the reminders. I need to know every day that what bought my freedom was costly and glorious and beautiful and satisfying in every way.

The human soul can be filled with regret;
   we never forget where we've gone wrong.

Almighty God stands ready to forgive
   all of our offense in a crimson flood.   

With my first breath, I drew in depravity -
   Needing Your mercy even in my first hour.
I'm proof the cross is as able today
   as when the Lamb was slain on the Altar of God.

It is so beautiful; so beautiful!
   I feast my eyes at how You satisfy my soul.

I keep coming back to this. As many times as I've heard these words this last week, I continue to hear them and weep wildly and openly. Unashamed, I cried for a while this morning at Starbucks - tears of joy and wonder at the incredible mercy of Almighty God.

I need the reminders of the price at which I was bought. The promise of Easter is costly. Don't let it just be another holiday. Seek to prepare your heart early. Carry an understanding of Peter's heart with you every day: Remember.

How He loves us...

Life since November has been a whirlwind of emotions and personal detours that has left me in a state of spiritual disarray. For a while, I found myself at the foot of the cross daily, glorying in the simple fact that my Father loved me.

Not only does He love me, but He loved me enough to send His most valued thing - His Son - to die on my behalf. That is no ordinary love.

“How He Loves” has become one of my favorite songs, and as I prayed tonight, struggling to grasp hold of some flotation device as I sank into my own misery, the words flowed into my mind and their meaning fought to take root in my heart.

He is jealous for me /

I am finding more and more that I have mistaken common grace for the immense and incredible love of the Father. It is certain that He bestows gifts of grace to all mankind - men and women see with eyes, eat tasty foods, experience success, and hold newborns regardless of faith in God. Christopher was quick to remind me the other night that God grants common grace to reveal aspects of Himself to the world and to draw men unto Him.

But He is jealous for me. That is no ordinary love. The love of the Father is a love that protects, never fades, and that fights for me when the covenant that I cannot keep on my own is threatened. My Savior will fight for my heart when other things threaten to take it from Him.

And, perhaps if I am fully honest with myself, He has had good reason to fight for my heart recently. There are too many distractions, no matter how hard I try to ward them off - only one taking root in my heart is too many.

Loves like a hurricane //
I am a tree / Bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy //

‘Hurricane’ is an appropriate word. Life seems to be throwing all sorts of things at us from every angle and we can’t seem to make our way to the eye, where peace reigns in the middle of the storm. And we are certainly bending beneath every bit of its weight.

And, yet, I can almost see the love of God in each wind, if I let myself. God’s love abounds in Christopher’s skiing mishap, as He continues to show Himself faithful with the slow restoration of movement to Christopher’s foot and the fact that it could have been much, much worse. God’s love resides in our housing situation, waiting to close on a house that seemed impossible from the beginning and has been one victorious and humbling hurdle after the next. God’s love is evident in the girls’ retreat last weekend and the prayers that were answered for unity and love among them. God’s love brings mercy in the form of my little brother - who was fully available and gave up a few of his days to come help me get home things straightened out on a short deadline. God’s love is with others, as His protection and desire for His glory to be made great are revealed in circumstances beyond anyone’s control.

And God’s love is perfect, seeking to refine me to make me more like His Son.

When all of a sudden, I am unaware / Of these afflictions eclipsed by Glory /

Oh, how I wish I could understand what He is doing! I am so vastly unaware of the workings behind the scenes, of how these afflictions are to be eclipsed by glory because of the victory of the cross!

And I realize just how beautiful You are
and how great Your affections are for me //

It is too easy to look at the presence of common grace and pitch a fit over not being granted one or two pieces of it. Why do I care so much when I have something so much greater - when the God of the Universe loves me with no ordinary love?

I so desperately need to understand, but not what I think I must - I do not need to understand which pieces of common grace God has for my life, but the very important truth that He loves us. How He loves us so.

[["How He Loves," lyrics by John Mark McMillan]]