The Gospel According to Ruthie

           Ruthie and I were sitting outside the other day, eating lunch under a big blue sky, soaking up the sun.  Seeing a large fir tree in the distance, Ruthie pointed and said,

            “Look, Mom!  That tree reaches all the way up to heaven.  Wow!”

            “That’s a pretty tall tree,” I responded.  “Do you think if you climbed all the way to the top you could get to heaven?”

            “Yeah!  But, will you and Daddy come with me?”

            “Sure, we’ll come with you.  I’d like to see heaven, too,” I said.

            “Okay,” she said, her blue eyes brightening, “and if it’s too tricky for us, then Jesus will come down Himself and get us and take us there.”

            “Yes,” I said, “yes, He will.”

            And He already has.

                       

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life.  For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through Him” (John 3:16-17).

     Nine months ago I was pregnant, and then miscarried 7 weeks later.  This weekend would have been my due date.  For anyone who has experienced the pain of a miscarriage, or the agonizing trial of trying to conceive year after year, or any kind of loss or crushing of dreams, I pray these words from God might bring you comfort as they have me. 
The first is a paraphrase of Psalm 91:14-16:

Our loving God has promised it:

“Because My child loves Me,

I will never let him go.

I shall feel the pain of his wounds

and bear his hurt

and shall transform that which is ugly

into that which enriches and blesses.

And when he cries out in agony,

I shall hear and answer him.

I will be close to him and will deliver him,

and I will grant him eternal life.”

He bears your hurt, feels your pain, and hears your cries of agony.  And when we run to His strong tower, and allow His love to be the salve to our wounds, His promises continue:

Isaiah 40:28-31

Have you not known?

Have you not heard?

The everlasting God, the Lord,

The Creator of the ends of the earth,

Neither faints nor is weary.

His understanding is unsearchable.

He gives power to the weak,

And to those who have no might He increases strength.

Even the youths shall faint and be weary,

And the young men shall utterly fall,

But those who wait on the Lord

Shall renew their strength;

They shall mount up with wings like eagles,

They shall run and not be weary,

They shall walk and not faint.

     Those words were written for me, and they were written for you.  And the Bible is full of them.  Every time I ponder the love and the tenderness of my God, I find myself soaring in His strength.  May you do the same.  

     Once again, “I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”  ~Ephesians 3:17-19

God Crashed My Party

            I have to admit, shamefully, that I throw incredibly good pity parties.  Once I get on a roll, wow, can I come up with reasons why I should feel sorry for myself.  I threw a particularly good one earlier this week.  Me, myself, and I were all in attendance and no one else was invited.  The ultimate guest list for the ultimate of pity parties.

            It started with a bad morning.  I always look forward to Thursday mornings because I get the house all to myself for about an hour.  My husband leaves early for a Bible study and my three-year-old daughter usually sleeps until 7:00.  I love curling up in our big chair with coffee, my Bible and a notebook.  Just a single light above the chair illuminates my calm, quiet spot.  I was extra anxious to open my Bible and hear from the Lord because I didn’t get my normal writing time the night before.  I wanted to post another entry on my blog so there would at least be two entries in a row.  Already I felt the pressure of living up to expectations that I was sure existed.  I sipped my coffee, opened my Bible, and 15 minutes later I heard: “Mommy!”  Really?  I tried to get her to go back to sleep, but she was wide awake.  I let her get up, but explained that she needed to play quietly by herself so Mommy could do her Bible study.  I read Zechariah 9:16-17:

                        For they shall be like the jewels of a crown,

                        Lifted like a banner over His land—

                        For how great is His goodness

                        And how great His beauty!

“Hold baby so I can talk to her,” my daughter interrupted, suggesting her favorite form of play, which involves me talking for baby so she can have a conversation with her.  I explained again that she would need to play by herself.  This idea was met with whining and dramatic crying as she said “Hold baby” over and over again.  Trying not to lose my patience, I merely put my finger to my lips and indicated that she needed to be quiet.  She whined in a whisper.  Not exactly what I had intended, but I went back to reading hoping that ignoring the behavior would make it go away.  She did eventually move on to a new activity, but she continually attempted to involve me and every event proved frustrating for her on some level which only produced more and more whining and drama.  My hour of “quiet” was over before it even began and the tone was set for the rest of the day.  My daughter seemed to whine and be discontent with everything that day and I followed right behind her, not out loud, but in my heart.  I was definitely no shining jewel in the crown of God.

            Nothing was going right, nothing was how I wanted it to be.  I never get any time for myself.  I never get a break from all the mundane tasks of my life.  We never have enough money.  I never have enough time.  I’m supposed to write stuff now, and I can’t even get an hour of quiet in which to think.  I don’t have anything to write about anyway.  There’s no way I’m going to meet anyone’s expectations, whatever they are.  And to top it all off, my husband is home for the day but totally ignoring me (I wonder why!) and my daughter is hanging on me and whining in my ear.  And did I mention that I’ve been praying for another baby for two years and still I only have one?  Obviously, it’s because I’m not a very good mom.  Hmph.  No matter how hard my husband tried to interfere and pull me out of my slump (okay, so he wasn’t ignoring me completely), I just stoically refused to change my attitude.  No, you cannot come to my pity party; you’re not invited, and I’m not leaving.  I literally went to bed with my arms folded across my chest and a scowl on my face.  I told you, I throw a good party!

            When I woke up the next morning, I felt a little better.  Am I allowed to blame hormones at all?  Please?  My Friday mornings are always busy with getting ready to leave for the day.  I go to a Bible study for young moms in the morning and then spend the day at my parents’ house.  I didn’t really feel prepared for sharing anything at my Bible study.  Earlier in the week, when I read our passage, only one phrase out of the first two chapters of Luke had stood out to me: “the tender mercy of our God.”  As Ruthie and I made the 45 minute drive to Bible study, we listened to the Jesus Storybook Bible on CD.  Over and over again, through every Bible story, the author tells of God’s love and His plan to rescue His people through Jesus.  The “tender mercy of our God” began to sink into my pitiful heart.  Once at Bible study, my heart began to soften as I looked around the room at each of the women in our group.  We recently shared our personal testimonies with each other.  It was a powerful time of sharing hardship and how God had touched each of our lives in a very real and unique way.  I saw in these women, the tender mercy of our God, and the depth of God’s rescue plan crashed into my pity party and lifted me onto solid ground.

            In Luke 1:76-79, Zacharias says to his newborn son, John the Baptist:

                        And you, child, will be called the prophet of the Highest;

                        For you will go before the face of the Lord to prepare His ways,

                        To give knowledge of salvation to His people

                        By the remission of their sins,

                        Through the tender mercy of our God,

                        With which the Dayspring from on high has visited us;

                        To give light to those who sit in darkness and the shadow of death,

                        To guide our feet into the way of peace.

To give light to those who sit in darkness.  My, had my day been dark yesterday.  I was full of complaints about everything I didn’t have and yet now the God of the universe was visiting me with mercy, with love, and with peace.  I didn’t do a single thing to deserve His presence, and yet He brought me comfort.  And more than comfort, He has given me life.  Suddenly, my perspective changed.  God came to this earth and lived and breathed for me.  He gave it all up, everything, so that I could truly live and live loved.  In Titus 3, it says that the “kindness and the love of God our Savior toward man appeared, not by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to His mercy He saved us…”.  I have been taught that the literal meaning of the word “appeared” in that verse means something akin to a Delta force forcefully blowing into the darkness to rescue a prisoner.  In the middle of my pity party, Jesus blew in, turned on the lights, and rescued me from the prison of myself. 

Going back to Zechariah 9, it is because of His love, that I get to be a jewel in His crown.  It is because He has taken a wallower in the muck of selfishness, and breathed in her new life, that I get to be a banner declaring His goodness and beauty.  If I bask in the tender mercy of my God, there is no muck left in which to wallow, for God is the ultimate crasher of pity parties.