Tag: humility

Friendship?

I’ve been reading a book that has really got me thinking. The book is “The Hands of the Emperor” by Victoria Goddard. I’m not going to recommend the book. The author’s view on sexuality does not line up with the Biblical standard and she did not have very good editing, but despite all that the book gripped me. I didn’t want to put it down. 

I have learned to start being curious about things that grip me, so I made myself stop reading and ask the question, what emptiness in myself is being filled? And I realized the reason I was so enthralled was because it deals with a friendship of nonequals. The friendship between the emperor and his secretary, actually, his right-hand man. 

Lately I have really been puzzling over the fact that Jesus calls us friends. 

No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you. John 15:15

Different praise and worship songs have latched onto this idea and I find myself singing about being a friend of God in church and it really makes me pause. How is it possible to be friends with God? He is God. I am human. Creator, created. Master, servant. 

In the book, the author focuses on the fact that the emperor does not want to be emperor. He wants to be just a simple man like everyone else. And in the end of the book series, the two  friends have achieved a type of equality. But that is not how God works. He is God. The book of Revelation describes the elders casting their crowns before the throne and worshipping God in all his splendor. Worship is obviously a part of our relationship with God. 

John 13:13 says, 

You call me ‘Teacher’ and ‘Lord,’ and rightly so, for that is what I am. 

But Jesus says this right after he has washed his disciples feet. And then calls on them to follow his example of being a servant. 

We have this word, “condescend” which we usually use in a negative way. When someone is being condescending it means they are looking down on us. But the real meaning is “to willingly lower oneself to another’s level”. And that is what Jesus does. He condescends to call us friend. 

In the book the secretary is an amazing character. Heroic. He’s mind-bogglingly efficient and able to change the world with his work. And I found myself thinking, well, yes, maybe God could be friends with people who are amazing, like Moses, and David. But me? While I am content with who I am and the role I play in this world, I also know that my role is confined to my family and community. I am not a world-stage player. I don’t want to be. 

The New Testament has different kinds of analogies for the church. The body, vessels. All implying that we have our own role to play, and some roles are big and obvious and some are small and unnoticeable, but we all work together for one purpose. 

I was thinking about myself as a vessel. Something God created for a purpose. I understand a lot of my purpose. Be a good wife, raise my family, try to be someone who lifts up and encourages whoever I am in community with. Draw near to God…And be Jesus’ friend? It feels presumptuous. Encroaching. Not humble. I find myself pulling back from the idea. 

I don’t think I have settled this completely in my mind, but I’ll tell you where I have ended up for now. God created me. He knows me completely. A lot better than I know myself. I love God. I want to be with him. He is truly what I live for. I don’t know all the reasons he created me. I don’t know all the purposes he has for me. I just know that I want all of it. I want every gift and talent he’s given me to be used. I want every opportunity he puts in my path to be taken advantage of. I want every relationship he’s opened up for me to happen. I want it all. And if “friendship with God” is on the list of things he has purposed for me, then I want it. My hands are open, ready to receive. And I’m excited to see what happens. 

A Gift, Not a Right

I’m sitting in my bedroom right now. I have an armchair in the corner of the room. Lots of windows. It’s evening and the light is coming in at a perfect slant. It’s the time of day when everything glows. The walls in my room are painted a peachy-apricot color that is designed to pick up the sunlight and reflect back the color of warmth and coziness and life. I love my bedroom. My husband remodeled it for my 40th birthday. It is a haven in my not-so-remodeled house. 

Today is a sort of home-coming to my room. Our summer-long houseguests just departed yesterday. We gave up our bedroom for them and have been camping out in our kids’ bedrooms all summer. I am finally back in my own space. 

This summer has been an enlightening experience. 

Perhaps the biggest lesson I’ve learned is just how entitled and privileged I am. It has been disconcerting to not have my own private space. In fact, it has been pretty irritating. In fact, at times it felt like I was going to go crazy. One night I was lying in bed. Silently steaming. Here I was, lying on a mattress on the floor in my boy’s bedroom. Kids sleeping all around me. I felt suffocated from the lack of privacy. And then, I had a thought, which I think was from the Holy Spirit…What about all the families living in refugee camps right now? And then, after a bit more thought…What about almost all the other countries in the world? I would say that parents having their own bedroom is something that only happens in the wealthiest percentage of the world. Everyone else shares whatever space they have. Having my own private space for me and my husband is in fact, not a human right. It’s a privilege. A byproduct of living in a wealthy country and making enough money to live in a big house. 

It’s kind of humbling to realize that the things I consider basic rights, basic human comforts, are actually just a cultural thing. In our culture we have an expectation that a married couple will have their own space, their own bedroom. We are used to this set up. It feels healthy. It feels right. And when we don’t get it, everything feels really wrong. 

I am currently reading a book called Extravagant Grace by Barbara Duguid. It is an amazing book about the Christian walk, basically a modern day interpretation of the writings of John Newton (of Amazing Grace fame). There is a quote that really struck me. It is speaking of John Newton and says:

“He also believed that the richest fruit of God’s work in our hearts would be evidenced by increasing humility and dependance on Christ for everything rather than in a ‘victorious Christian life.’”

Think about that for a minute. The evidence of our growing in maturity in our walk with God is not that we become more perfect and amazing, but rather that we become more humble and more reliant on God. 

Part of our becoming humble is coming face to face with our sin, uncovering it layer by layer. And as we uncover it, we bring it to God and lean on his power to repent and turn away. 

This summer I had a mirror held up to my face. Wow. I really become unpleasant when my creature comforts are taken away. 

I have this image in my mind of what my life should look like. I would hope that I would pattern that image off of what the Bible says my life should look like, but instead I’ve patterned it off of what my culture tells me is expected. Expectation: I should always have enough money to get everything I need and at least a handful of extra things I just want. Expectation: I should live in good health. Expectation: I should have my own space and my own stuff and strong boundaries to keep people out of that space and that stuff. Expectation: My life should be worry free with no hardships or trials. 

No wonder the Christian walk can be so difficult for us Americans. Jesus said to take up your cross and follow him. He said, in this world we would have trouble, but to take heart because he has overcome the world. The stories of the early apostles and the early church are not about people living comfortable easy lives. But, they are about people living in complete dependance on God and trusting that the end reward is worth all the suffering here on earth. And of course, the most amazing part is, Jesus also said he would never leave us or forsake us. As we go through hardships and troubles here on earth, he is with us the entire time. 

And for me, part of my walk is seeing that what I see as hardship, really isn’t. I actually have some pretty spoiled ideas about what my life should look like. And I say, I’m sorry Lord. I’m actually really selfish. And God is gracious. He gave me back my room. But now I can see it a little better for what it is…A gift. Not a right. And my pleasure is a bit richer and I try harder to keep this gift in an open palm, ready to share, ready to release  it whenever I’m called to.

(Though I’m secretly hoping I won’t be called to do so again for a really long time.)