Tag: The Cross

Swinging on the Pendulum

I have had a list of tasks slowly accumulating. All things that I don’t want to do and so I keep putting them off. Things like making a dentist appointment. Finding a new dentist for my kids. Calling a company about a bill. Deaing with insurance companies. Emailing someone. Calling my bank. 

My typical way of approaching these tasks is to ignore them as long as possible until the dread of facing consequences from not doing them outweighs the dread of actually doing them. 

And in the middle of all this inaction vs action, my brain keeps a tally. We did not do these things, take away points, we are obviously not worthy. We did things, add some points, we must be worthy! It’s an exhausting way to live and it’s something I’ve been struggling to break free of for years. The idea that we must somehow earn love and forgiveness and worth.  

Today, aside from doing things I didn’t want to do, I also did my reading from the book, “Chosen” by Donna Snow, a book I’m reading with a women’s Bible Study. It’s a study on Queen Esther, and it’s been enjoyable. Today’s topic was pride. Generally, Haman’s pride, but specifically, pride that we each deal with in our own lives. 

My mindset of earning my worth is all tied up in pride. I, because of all my good deeds, will be declared good enough. And when I’m having a bad day, I, with all my devastating failures, will never be declared good enough. 

Today, as I’ve swung back and forth on the pendulum of worthy and not worthy, I have heard the Holy Spirit asking me a question. Is what Jesus did on the cross enough? 

When I’m failing, feeling like a horrible parent, an inadequate wife, someone who is incapable of living a disciplined ordered life, is what Jesus did for me enough? Did his blood really cover all of my sins and wash me completely clean, or did it just take care of some of it? 

When I’m feeling like I’m on top of the world, accomplishing all the tasks, being superwoman, is what Jesus did on the cross enough? Do these things that I do make me more lovable, more saved, more righteous? 

I would say that the cure to pride is to take your eyes off of yourself and look instead at the one person who is worthy of all honor and glory. Jesus. He is the one who has declared us worthy, who sacrificed everything in order that we can be covered in his goodness. We can’t take away from what he did with our failures and we can’t add to what he did with our successes. Why am I worthy and loved? Because of Jesus. No other reason. Just Jesus. 

The Gospel PLUS

One of my pastors made a comment that if some act that you were doing caused you to feel more righteous than someone else, then you were adding on to the Gospel. The Gospel PLUS. The Bible tells us that Jesus’ death on the cross completely covered the debt we owed for our sins. We come to Jesus in faith, repent of our sins, and he forgives us. We then walk out our lives learning how to listen and obey him and through that process he changes us to become more like him. But it’s not our obedience and our listening that saves us. It’s Jesus’ work on the cross, a free gift to us. 

That is a hard concept. We like to feel like we are earning our way. Let me work for that. Surely, I need to be doing something to deserve this. And then we take concepts like prayer and Bible reading, and service and we turn them into laws. Things we must do to earn grace. If I don’t get up every morning and read my Bible and pray for an hour, then I’m not really saved. If I don’t fast once a week then I’m not really holy. If I don’t take one day a week and spend the entire day devoted to church and rest then I’m not really following after God. 

All of these things, Bible reading, prayer, fasting, sabbath rest, all of these things are gifts that God has given us to enable us to learn more about him, to enter into his presence, to come alongside him in his work here on the earth, to keep our bodies and minds healthy and whole. They are gifts that we have been given, and the more we use them, the more blessed we are. But doing these things does not save us. Jesus’ work on the cross is what saves us. 

I think back to things that I have done that were good and healthy and blessed our family, but I know that deep down I did feel “more righteous” than others because I did them. Things like homeschooling, or eating super healthy, daily family devotions. All good things. All things that I’m glad that we did. But, I wish my heart attitude had been different. I wish that I had known to hold these practices lightly, to not feel the stress of HAVING to do these things in order to be righteous. But instead to just rejoice that God made these things possible for our family as a blessing to us. 

RIght now I find myself struggling a bit. I am not actively involved in any kind of ministry. My children are. And I help them get to and from the places they need to be. But I myself am not doing anything. And I remind myself that my family is my first priority. My main ministry. But I feel guilty for not doing more. And that is definitely coming from a Gospel PLUS mentality. If I’m not actively serving somewhere then I’m not earning my way. 

In the past, I have never actively sought out ministry. A need has simply arrived on my doorstep, so to speak, and I have responded to that need. And I keep waiting for something to be brought to my attention that I can help with and nothing has shown up. And deep in my heart, I’m thankful that nothing has shown up, because this has been an emotionally difficult summer as I’ve watched my kids scatter all over the place, pursuing their dreams, growing up, leaving the nest, and I’ve had to fight the duel feelings of overwhelming pride that they have grown up so well and have so much to offer the world, and deep sorrow that they are no longer little and no longer apart of my daily interactions. 

And so I have to learn how to trust that God does not need all my works in order to deem me acceptable to him. Jesus already took care of that. I am saved. I’m adopted in. I am loved. And I’m available. He will use me as he sees fit, and I can relax and wait on his timing. Keep doing the things that are set in front of me. Wash the dishes, fold the laundry, feed the family. Love on my babies that are still here. And just rest in the Gospel. 

Lost Puppy Blog

We have lost our puppy. She went missing on Tuesday afternoon from our yard. She is actually my oldest son’s puppy and I watch her every day at our house while he is at work. Which means, I lost my son’s puppy. A case of too many people, each one thinking someone else was in charge of the puppy at that moment in time. 

I feel like I was standing there, battle-weary from all that life has been throwing at me, and then a giant warrior just ran up to me and kicked me in the stomach. And I’m still laying on the ground, gasping for breath. I wake up in the night, heart pounding, knowing something is wrong, and then I think, the puppy, we’ve got to find the puppy. And that has been the constant state of my nerves, just a frantic feeling of needing to do something to fix this and make it right.

My biggest struggle has been to keep my heart right. When bad things happen, it feels like punishment. It feels like a lack of love. It feels like maybe God isn’t good. The line from the song has been going through my head, “You’re a good, good Father, that’s who you are, that’s who you are, and I am loved by you, that’s who I am, that’s who I am…” And I admit there has been a battle in my mind. God you said in your parable, what father gives his son a snake when he asks for a fish? If human fathers know how to give good gifts, how much more so does God give good gifts?? And I sit here saying, please, we need our puppy back. And I think, surely a good Father would make this happen? 

And I am determined to not sin with my thoughts. God, you are sovereign. You know more than me. I will trust you. And I am clinging to that. I will trust God. And I am reminded that the presence or absence of this puppy does not equal “loved” or “not loved”. That question was already decided on the cross.  I believe this. But, Lord, I need this horrible feeling of desperation to go away. My heart is breaking for ourselves and for my son, and for this little puppy that we all love so much. 

We have checked with the shelter and will continue to do so. We have put her picture out on all kinds of community groups and Facebook groups. We’ve made flyers and walked around the area, leaving them in key places and talking to people who are out walking. The mailman is on the lookout. There is a homeless lady who owns a cat who I see often in the park. I gave her a flyer and she said she’d be looking. There’s a man I see every morning walking his dog all around the area. I stopped him and asked him to keep an eye out. Actually, I’ve asked several different dog walkers who I see regularly. I keep driving the area where she was last seen Tuesday night. Petco has a database for lost pets that I’ve been checking. I don’t know what else to do. 

I know several of my readers live in the same area as me, so I’m going to put a picture on here. Please keep us in your prayers. 

Queen Esther and Me

My name is Esther. This has always been a special part of who I am. My mom told me, years ago, that when she first got pregnant with me she knew I was a girl and my name was going to be Esther. I was named after the Esther in the Bible. She has her very own book which tells the story of the beautiful Jewish girl who is compelled to join the Mighty King’s harem when the king puts out  a search for beautiful virgins. He is looking for a new Queen and Esther ends up being the chosen one. Later, she uses her influence as Queen to save her people, the Jews, from a genocide.

I can’t tell you how many times I have read the book of Esther. Innumerable. When I was a kid my Dad set up a rule, for a time, that we had to read one chapter of the Bible before bed every night. I would often go searching for the shortest Psalm that I could find or I would head back to the book of Esther and read it again. Esther was my hero. I was her namesake. I felt a deep connection. She was beautiful and brave, a Queen, everything a little girl could hope for in a hero.

As I grew older I found some biblical historical fiction about Esther, where authors had written the story of Esther, filling in all the unknown details, and adding their own twist to the story. I loved reading these. It awakened an understanding that these people in the Bible were real people. With real emotions. Real problems. They weren’t just a flat image on a page.

Of course, as an adult, understanding Esther to be a real person has lead me to have a much darker view of the whole story. I have a good imagination. I try to imagine what it was like to live in a harem. To not have the kind of marriage that I think is normal, but instead just be one of many. What was it like to interact with an older man when she was most likely a young teenager? To interact with the most powerful man on earth when she was just a young girl from a family with no power or prestige? How did she navigate all the palace politics? What was her day-to-day living like? Did she have children? Was Vashti (the previous Queen who was dethroned) still in the harem to cause problems? After the “Happily Ever After” ending of the book of Esther, what happened then? Did she remain on good terms with the King or did he replace her with a long series of new favorites from the harem? Did she find a way to bring meaning to her life?

I have a lot of questions. Sometimes I feel myself getting a little panicky. Like the answers to these questions are tied up in my own destiny. If Esther actually lived an unhappy, unfulfilled life in the harem, what does that mean for me? What does it mean, if you are named for a hero, to find out that your hero was actually a pretty unhappy person?

In the last couple years, I have found myself getting very emotionally caught up with the stories of the women in the Bible. I find myself angry. Why did God let that woman suffer like that? Why did God allow polygamy, despite all the stories of women being hurt by it? Hagar and Sarah. Leah and Rachel. Hannah and Peninnah. Why did God allow the practice of concubines? Why were they worth so little to the men in their life? Thinking about the story of the concubine in Judges who is murdered. Why? Yes. My brain knows that when sin came in the world, all these bad things were part of that Sin. Yes. My brain knows that God has a long term plan to deal with Sin in the world that centers around his Son Jesus. Yes. I know we have free will which means that bad things are going to happen because of the consequences of our sin. I know these things, but my heart still hurts when I read about the suffering of these women. I need to know that God cared about them. That he loved them just as much as the more prominent men who carry the lead role in the story. I need to know this.

I think I need to know this because I am Esther. I am connected to these characters hidden in the pages, surfacing in between lines. I am simply a continuation of their story. I am a woman. And I need to know if I am just as important to God as the men. Am I just as significant? Am I loved? Am I important?

Today I started reading the book of Esther again. I came up with a whole new list of questions and I started googling my questions, wondering if other people had thought about these things too. I happened upon a blog written by Rachel Held Evans. I really liked what she had to say and as I read through some of her blog posts I realized that she was an author and had several interesting books. One of them really stood out to me so I got it on my Kindle and started reading it. The name of the book is A Year of Biblical Womanhood: How a Liberated Woman Found Herself Sitting on her Roof, Covering her Head, and Calling her Husband “Master”. You have to admit, it’s an intriguing title. I’m several chapters in. I feel like I’ve met my new best friend and she just doesn’t know it yet. This is not to say that I agree with everything that she says or thinks, but what I love about her is that she questions things. I resonate with her questions. I resonate with her curiosity, her desire to dig deeper.

I just want to tell you one little bit in the book. The author and a friend get together and have a little ceremony where they Remember some of the women in the bible who suffered. They remember Japheth’s daughter who was sacrificed. They remember the concubine who was murdered. They remember Hagar. They light a candle for each woman, and they manage to bring it all back to the Cross. This made me sob. These women that have somehow managed to creep off the pages of the Bible and work their way into my heart and my mind…These women are important to me. And it was like someone telling me that there was going to be a funeral and I could come and mourn, and give honor to those who had died. Have some closure. While reading her book, I felt like I was there, joining in the ceremony. Mourning alongside them.

This is a journey that I am on. What does it mean to be Esther? What does it mean to be a woman? What does it mean to be a Christian Woman? These questions. This is why I keep reading the book of Esther, and Genesis, Samuel. The book of Acts. Because their stories are my stories. Perhaps by understanding the past better, I’ll have more understanding to face the future.