Not Enough: The Half Truth and The Whole

So, my blog life has been strangely silent. I have no apologies, but maybe an explanation is in order. Here goes.

I have been mildly depressed since, oh, about New Year's Day. I remember having a day off for the holiday. I was home alone. I felt sick (because this cute little brown eyed blonde girl infected me with a cold that turned into a beast of a sinus infection). I had only been back home a couple of days after spending time with my family. I was feeling lonely, which is not too normal for me. And it hit me that I didn't feel like doing anything besides sleep.

And I'm still kind of in that place. I'm not sad. I'm taking care of myself. I'm going to work and spending time with friends and just generally loving life.  But when I get home at the end of the day, I don't want to do anything.

I do think a lot of my problem has to do with the winter. It's cold. I get home and get cold and just want to lie down. My depression isn't a sad sort of depression. It's an apathetic depression, which might be worse.

And on top of that, I've been super sensitive. An innocent comment can turn me into an emotional wreck. If I even think that someone might possibly disapprove of me or of what I do, it makes me paranoid and defensive. If I fail, I'm super critical of myself. And I've really had to fight against that sort of mindset lately.

And then one day, maybe a few weeks ago, it hit me what was really going on. There's a lot of good stuff going on right now. God's been teaching me more about what it means to be burdened for others. God has been working in me and through me in lots of little ways. I've got a fundraising 15 mile run lined up for April. The funds are going towards an overseas mission trip, which I'm excited, honored, and completely terrified to be a part of. I'm terrified because I'm pretty sure the things I'll be doing on the trip will be things I never thought I'd do before--like public speaking and teaching and...stuff. But God's showing me that there's things He has for me that are so beyond my expectations of myself. ...I mean, there was a time when I thought I was bad with kids...lol. Who knows what other ways I could be wrong about myself? Bottom line, God's got some big stuff to do in me and through me.

And Satan doesn't like it. And Satan has been throwing his best stuff at me. He's hitting me in my insecurities. He's throwing apathy at me. He's trying to make me sin by not trusting, by disobeying, by looking for fulfillment in things besides God. I'm not just saying "The devil made me do it." I'm at fault for my own sin. But I'm not blind to the fact that Satan is trying to keep me out of what God is doing. Which must mean that something awesome is about to happen.

Satan is a sore loser.

I'm learning right now that one of Satan's favorite tactics is the half truth. He loves them. In fact, I think a lot of people are going to go to hell because they believe half truths.  People believe God is loving, and He is, but they fail to see that He is also holy. People believe that God is good, and He is, but they fail to see that He is also just. People believe that we're supposed to love our neighbor, but neglect to understand that love doesn't mean you stand idly by while people sin. And these are crafty little half truths that keep us from the whole truth that will set us free. Satan's been using them for a long time. In the garden of Eden he asked Eve, "Did God really say you can't eat any fruit? You won't die if you eat it. You'll have knowledge. You'll be like God." ...he told part of the truth while blatantly lying about the rest. "Did God really say...?" That's how he works.

And lately Satan has told me many half truths. "You're not enough. You can't help your friends who are hurting. You can't bear their pain. You can't heal their wounds. You make too many mistakes. You fuss at kids. You don't teach your preschool class as well as you should. You don't teach your Sunday school class well. You are awkward. You can't do anything right. You have hangups about a lot of things. People don't understand you. You're backwards. You waste time. You sin. You pursue things besides God. You fail. You mess up. You aren't worthy of grace. You. Are. Not. Enough."

Satan said, and is still saying, all those things to me. And it's easy to listen because, well, he's right. The things Satan sometimes tells us are true, but not the whole truth.

I'm not enough. That is undeniably true. But the whole truth is, God IS enough. Through my sin, through my failures, through my weakness, HE IS GOD. And nothing can separate me from His love. If I run away, even if I could run fast, He's fast enough to catch me.  Even if I fail, He is powerful enough to redeem. Even if I rise on the wings of the dawn or settle on the far side of the sea, even there His hand will guide me, and His right hand will hold me fast.

Satan tells me a lot of half truths. He tells me I'm not enough. But I know the whole truth, and it does set me free. The truth is, I don't have to be enough, because God is enough.

And Satan is going to keep throwing his best stuff at me. Some days will be better than others. But the battle for me has already been won. If Satan is after me, well, so is God. And He's stronger, and He's smarter, and He knows me perfectly. And still loves me. You're right, Satan. I'm not worthy. But God's worth confounds my worthlessness. His love conquered death. That power is at work in me.

I'm going to get through this rough time. Hopefully spring will help chase away the blahs, or maybe I'll just have to wait for a more figurative spring. Either way, I'm thankful for even this season. The daffodils are blooming even in the ice and cold and snow. By His grace, I think I am too.

Peacemaking

Matthew 5:9 NASB

"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God."

When I was a naive kid, I used to read that verse and get excited about how God might want to use me to bring about WORLD PEACE. I used to think that making peace meant staying out of fights or doing whatever I could to stay away from conflict. 

In theory, of course. I have a big sister who is the polar opposite of me. We fought and argued like crazy. And I'm stubborn; sometimes I like to argue or stand my ground just so I can pretend I'm right. So even if my childish ideas of peacemaking ever were at all practical, I wasn't good at putting them into practice anyway.

But my ideas were never reality. The reality is, there won't be peace on this earth as long as there are people living on it. We're sinners. We're selfish. We want our own way. And being a peacemaker is just...well...hard.

It's also not passive. I once believed that avoiding conflict was peacemaking. It can be part of it, but peacemaking involves work, and lots of it. It involves giving of self and time. It involves risk and pain. In fact, peacemaking involves war.

We too easily forget that we are at war, that there are forces of evil working against us all the time. There's terrible injustice in the world. There's corruption. There's compromise. And Satan would like nothing better for us to be passive, to pretend that there's nothing wrong or that there's nothing worth fighting for.

That's not the case.

I don't claim to be a peacemaker or even really know how to be one, but I believe it takes a great amount of discernment, of humility, of personal sacrifice, of endurance. 

It takes discernment to know what things are worth fighting for. It takes discernment to know whether to be silent or to speak, when to embrace and to refrain. Peacemaking involves far more wisdom than anyone can muster up on their own. Peacemakers need to pray for guidance, that their minds and hearts will be open to truth, that God will convict and lead them according to His will. We can't claim we know His will unless we continually seek it, unless we continually seek Him.

Peacemakers MUST have humility, first to admit that they are sinners in need of grace they can never repay. They must be willing to yank the planks out of their own eyes before trying to help pull out another person's speck. They must be willing to overlook minor insults, and deal graciously with more major offenses. They must point others to truth instead of just trying to prove themselves right.  They must be quick to offer apology and restitution for any offenses they caused, whether they are accidental or intentional offenses. They must be willing to, whenever possible, make peace with all men, so far as it depends on them (Romans 12:18).

Peacemakers must be willing to sacrifice. Peacemaking involves time, energy, emotional investments. A person can't hope to make real peace unless that person truly, selflessly cares. Peacemaking often involves confronting others with truth-often truth others don't want to hear.  Peacemaking sometimes means standing by God's truth even when no one else is standing by it. Peacemaking can even involve force when injustice is severe. Peacemakers risk the potential of ridicule, of losing friends for the sake of truth, even of personal harm in some extreme cases. When something is worth fighting for, there often can't be peace without a painful struggle.

And sometimes that struggle doesn't end overnight. Sometimes the struggle goes on for years. Sometimes a peacemaker must pray and wait and pray and hope and pray and hurt and pray for years, with no guarantee that peace will ever come.

I know about a mom who is fighting a very unjust ruling over the custody of her son. Her son is worth fighting for.

I know several people who are compromising or even denying their faith to follow the world and its understanding. Their souls are worth fighting for.

I am burdened for those children, for those men and women who are trapped in slavery, some of them who have never known joy and hope. Their freedom is worth fighting for. They are worth fighting for.

Maybe the true definition of a peacemaker is a person who can't have peace until others have it too...and not the peace that this world gives, but the peace of God.

I used to have this saying. "Love is the only weapon that cannot fall into the wrong hands."  No one ever liked that saying, so I stopped saying it, but I still believe there's truth to it. Love, prayer, truth. These are the weapons we have against satan and all the forces that are trying to steal peace. We aren't fighting flesh and blood.

And I don't know if I'll ever be a true Peacemaker, but I do know I'm a child of God. And I do know that He's giving me a heart like His own, one that breaks for those who have no peace. I can't be passive anymore.

God came down in humility as a baby, lived as a man, died on a cross, and defeated death...all to make peace with a rebellious people.

Peace is costly.

But I believe it's something worth pursuing.

Fiction Friday: Forgetfulness in Fairy Tales

I have a great love for fairy tales, whether they’re modified Disney movies or old Hans Christian Anderson classics. Recently, I was watching the Leslie Ann Warren version of “Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella,” mainly because I love the music, and I was struck by one of the themes to which I’ve never paid proper attention.

Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother had warned Cinderella that she had to leave the ball before midnight, and Cinderella firmly promised that she would remember. Yet, as she gazed into her prince’s eyes, she became distracted and forgot the promise that she had so insistently made. Only when the clock started to chime did she remember, and she almost didn’t make it out of the castle before her dress turned back into rags.

I let my mind drift a little, and immediately thought of the original story of “Beauty and the Beast,” in which the Beast, when allowing Beauty to return home, told her that if she did not return within a certain span of time, he would most certainly die. Beauty assuredly promised him that she would return within that span of time, and yet she allowed herself to be distracted by her family. She forgot the promise she had made until it was almost too late. The Beast was almost dead when she reached his side and proclaimed her love for him, breaking the spell.

The dwarves warned Snow White not to open the door of the cottage to strangers. She promised she would not open the door to strangers. Yet upon three separate occasions (according to the original fairy tale), she allowed herself to be tricked by her disguised evil stepmother, and opened the door to a stranger. She forgot her promise and almost died—three times!  I'm not sure if that's foolishness, arrogance, or both!

In "Rumpelstiltskin," the young girl promised her first born child to the dwarf, but in her happiness over her newborn child, she forgot her promise until Rumpelstiltskin came to collect.
In "The Frog Prince," the princess conveniently (purposefully) “forgot” her promise to the frog who had rescued her golden ball. She didn’t want to allow him to eat off her plate or sleep in her bed. Only when the king heard of her promise did he enforce it, reminding her of the importance of remembering one’s promises.

There are other examples, but most fairy tales are too obscure for those who don’t make a point of reading them. I find it interesting both that many fairy tales deal with this theme of forgetfulness, and that I haven’t really ever consciously noticed it before.

I think the reason that I’m more aware of it now has to do with the fact that I’ve been reading through the first few books of the Bible. I’ve just completed my readings of Numbers and Deuteronomy, and I’ve begun reading the book of Joshua. Throughout these books are little reminders—both of God’s promises to Israel, and of Israel’s commitments to Him. It’s interesting how many times the Lord reminded His people of the covenant He had made with them. It’s interesting how readily Israel accepted the covenant, promising to follow all of God’s commandments. It’s interesting how quickly Israel forgot their promise.

I see examples of many different kinds of forgetfulness in Scripture. The people of Israel forgot their promise to follow God because they were distracted, because they were arrogant, because they were foolish, because they were fearful, but mainly because they were just plain sinful.

None of this surprised God. He knows humans are forgetful. That, I believe, is why He gave so many reminders. That’s why He recommended His people take special care to remember. He knew how easy it was for sinful man to forget.

"These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts.  Impress them on your children.  Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates." --Deuteronomy 6: 6-9

“Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit and home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates, so that your days and the days of your children may be many in the land that the Lord swore to give your forefathers, as many as the days that the heavens are above the earth.” --Deuteronomy 11: 18-21

In The Silver Chair, by C. S. Lewis, which I consider to be a modern fairy tale, Aslan gives Jill Pole four signs to remember (in order to aid her in finding the lost Prince Rilian).  He tells her, “…Remember, remember, remember the signs. Say them to yourself when you wake in the morning and when you lie down at night, and when you wake in the middle of the night. And whatever strange things may happen to you, let nothing turn your mind from following the signs.”

Aslan knew Jill would forget the signs.

The story still had a happy ending. Prince Rilian is found, regardless of Jill’s forgetfulness.

Just as “Cinderella” marries her prince, regardless of her distracted forgetfulness.

Just as Beauty returns to her Beast just in time to love him back into a prince, regardless of her world-weary forgetfulness.

Just as “Snow White” awakens from her death-sleep to find her Prince Charming, regardless of her foolish/arrogant/etc. forgetfulness.

Just as the young woman in “Rumpelstiltskin” names the dwarf and keeps her baby, regardless of her blissfully ignorant forgetfulness.

Just as the princess in “The Frog Prince” transforms the ugly frog into a handsome prince, regardless of her intentional forgetfulness.

The true hero in The Silver Chair, and indeed in all of the Narnia stories, is not Jill Pole or any other human character. The hero is always Aslan. Aslan knew that if Jill had remembered the signs, things would have gone much more easily for her and all involved. But He also knew that she would forget the signs, yet He still worked all things together for good.  Even though Jill forgot, He was still the one in control of the story.

And that’s true for Israel’s story, which, because I've been grafted into Israel, is also my story. I, like the Israelites, am forgetful. I make promises quickly, and forget them even more quickly.  I know, and God knows, that if I were diligent to remember, if I fixed His truth on my mind and heart, if I reminded myself of His truth when I went to bed and when I woke up, if I reminded myself of His truth when I went about my daily life, then things would be much easier for me...and often much more pleasant for the people I encounter.  But I am not the hero of my own life story.  And God knows that there are going to be times, many times, when I forget.

Fairy tales are meant to teach morals, and many fairy tales have more than one moral. Certainly the value of keeping promises can be found in “The Frog Prince” and in “Beauty and the Beast,” as well as the reminder to not judge by appearances. “Cinderella” and “Snow White” are examples of how being kind to others, especially in times of suffering and humility, leads to happiness. I'm not sure, but I think that the moral of “Rumpelstiltskin” is “don’t tell the king that your daughter can spin straw into gold unless she really can,” or perhaps, “don’t promise your first born child to a dwarf unless you’re on a first-name basis,” or perhaps, "don't provide offspring for a greedy king who only loves you because he thinks you can spin straw into gold."  That one's a little ambiguous, I guess.

In all of these stories, however, I don’t really see the main characters as the heroes. There is always another force at work, be it a royal servant who hears Rumpelstiltskin singing his own name (for whatever reason—having a name like Rumpelstiltskin probably made him a little loony) in the forest, a Fairy Godmother, or just plain magic. The characters don’t guide their own destinies, which is a very good thing.

If "Cinderella" were in control, she would never have gone to the ball.

If Beauty were in control, she would have returned to the castle to find nothing more than a dead Beast.

If "Snow White" were in control, her stepmother would have probably succeeded in killing her on the first try.

If the young woman in “Rumpelstiltskin” were in control, that dwarf would have won the custody battle.

If the princess in “Frog Prince” were in control, she would have remained a spoiled, selfish, promise-breaking child who never grew up.  Which, by the way, would pretty much be my destiny, too.

But I’m not in control of my own story.

Though I’m forgetful and faithless, my God is faithful. Even though I make my life so much harder than it has to be with my forgetfulness, God is still working things out for good.  I'm grateful that He's in control of my story...of HIS story.

And I’m grateful for these great truths found in the simplest of tales. Fairy tales were told and passed down and written partly to be reminders.

I, for one, can use all the reminders I can get.

Fiction Friday: Hopeful Endings

I am sort of writing about a genre today, but not really.  I've recently read a popular dystopian (kinda like the opposite of Utopian) YA series, which shall remain nameless for the moment, and it started me thinking about the endings of books.  When I get done with a work of fiction, I usually want to feel better about life in general than when I first started reading it.  I like books that end with a strong sense of hopefulness.  There are exceptions to this, I suppose--like if the book didn't leave me with a good happy feeling, but maybe it really made me think, that would be good, too.  Some of the best fantasy stories are ones that reveal truth about real life, and sometimes that truth is a sad truth.  I like it sometimes when a book ends somewhat (but not completely) sadly, but leaves me thinking about the characters and their philosophies long into the night, perhaps even pervading my dreams.

The dystopian series I recently read (at least the original books for the series) did not end with a good happy feeling.  Rather, the author ended the supposed last book with a stark view of humanity.  The main idea seemed to be that since humanity messed up their world once, they were inevitably going to mess it up again.  I was thrown by this.  Up until the last few chapters of the supposed final book, I was thoroughly enjoying the series.  Then I realized that things were not going to end happily.  I realized that the main character was not going to overcome any of her selfish character flaws, nor did she seem to want to.  Instead, she seemed to turn her back on humanity and recede further inside her own self.  There was another book added, seemingly as an afterthought, which did give me a better sense of closure, but the whole reading experience shook me.  I am thinking about this series late into the night, which I like, but I don't know if I like the reasons I'm thinking about it.

The series was well-written, entertaining, and enjoyable. There were exciting plot twists and the pace was just about perfect.  The characters were well-developed, likable, and believable.  I choose to believe that's why this series has done so well.  But I have to admit there's a dark corner of my mind that entertains the idea that maybe people liked this series so much because they agree with the grim ideas the author seemed to be communicating: that mankind is really screwed up and has no hope.

I agree with the first part of that.  Mankind is really screwed up.  We are selfish creatures who don't know how to love or be loved.  We're hopeless, but that doesn't mean we don't have hope.  Our hope isn't in our own efforts or own worth--if it were, then yes, I'd agree with every sentiment the author of that dystopian series seemed to be communicating: that humans would be better off annihilating themselves.  But if you've read this blog before or if you know me, then you'll probably guess what I'm going to say next.  Our hope isn't in found in anything we can do; it's only in the Lord. 

Now, other dystopian series I've read have not been quite so dark at the end.  They don't necessarily claim any religious viewpoints, but I tend to read Christ into any view of hope.  The Hunger Games series (another hugely popular dystopian series) ended sadly in a lot of ways, but there were tears streaming down when I reached the last few pages and read about the yellow flowers.  I love yellow flowers, perhaps for the same reasons Suzanne Collins (author of the Hunger Games books) used them in her book.  They are symbols of hope.  I am sure she didn't have anything religious in mind when she wrote the ending (or any other part of the books), but I experienced something pretty close to pure Joy while reading it.  I felt a sense that no matter what happened, life was worth living, trials were worth trying, and love was worth sharing.

And that's how I like the ending of a book to make me feel.