When We Are Faithless

"If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot deny Himself." 2 Timothy 2:13


This post is going to be a bit more vulnerable than I am accustomed to, or comfortable with. However, I feel it needs to be said, and I hope it helps someone. Most Christians know the talk. "No one is perfect." We know that we can never measure up to God, and that's ok. We pretend to be grace filled, toward ourselves and others. But there's a nagging sense that we are supposed to have it all together, and if we don't, then we are a lesser Christian. Less loved. Less important. Not as "good". No matter how much we learn about grace, we fall into a mindset of "If I can have more faith..". "If I can believe harder." "If I can do more." The truth is, a lot of it is a choice. I can choose faith filled words and actions when it looks like all hell is breaking loose. And it is important to choose faith. To choose joy. To be positive. To speak the Word. To surround ourselves with encouragers. To choose worship. But if we are really honest with ourselves, there are times when we have nothing to offer. Nothing to give. When even our brokenness is too heavy to lift heavenward. I'm reminded of the old Footprints poem. You know that one, your granny probably had it on a plaque in her living room. And it's a comforting thought, and pretty, and at some point, maybe it started to sound a little cliché. But how true it is. That when we couldn't walk, He carried us. 2016 has been a difficult, challenging year in many ways, more ways than I can even try to articulate at this moment. The worst of any of it was the two day period where we lost Jeremy's grandmother and cousin, then the next week, the two week period where we drove almost a thousand miles to attend two funerals. Our grief met the heartache of wanting to take the grief of our loved ones, and not being able to. The night I got the call about Jeremy's cousin, Jesse, was the worst of all of it. He was young, handsome, funny, a loving father and husband. I was completely numb for a little while. I decided to take a shower and when I got in, the tears started and wouldn't stop. I showered, and cried, and then decided to clean the shower while I was in it. And cried some more. Jeremy was with his family that weekend, with spotty cell service. My sister was my rock. I told her about the shower incident, and what she said was so simple, but so profound. "And God was there with you." After that week was up, I looked back on the events and was amazed that we made it through. That I was still a halfway decent mother. That we survived and actually ate and bathed. And I saw God's grace, mercy and faithfulness in it all.
Another time in my life, I can see this so plainly, is the period after I lost my dad. I went into a full blown depression, although I didn't recognize at the time that that's what was going on. I couldn't figure out why I couldn't be happy. Considered breaking off my engagement to Jeremy. Wondered if I should change my major or maybe the old "take a semester off". All of those would have been disastrous. But when I couldn't pull up one bit of good sense of my own, or even conscious faith that God would help me, deliver me....somewhere deep inside Wisdom said, "Hold on. This isn't it. Stay the course." I can look back on that time and see how God was working in my life. I can look back  on this year, and see so many things God was doing, and I know He isn't finished. So the thing is this......God is here. He is faithful. Yes, I should do all the things I know to do, what the Word tells me to do. But when I can't...He can. He is still there. Still loving me. Still my ever present help in my time of trouble, even when I can't even form the words to ask for help. He knows what I need before I ask. And He is so, so faithful.

It's Planting Season

The other day Jeremy and I went to drop off my car for some maintenance work. As I stood waiting on him to finish talking to the mechanic, I noticed a beautiful house and yard, some ways behind the shop. Truthfully, now I can't recall exactly what the house looked like. But the rows of huge, towering shade trees are firmly planted in my memory. Not sure what kind they were, oaks maybe. I felt a little pang of longing, to be under those trees in a hammock, reading a book and sipping iced tea instead of leaving my car to be a one car family for two days, running errands and taking care of all the things that go on in a family of five. I had a lot of thoughts about this all at once. I, too, have a nice home and yard. It isn't grand, with rows of hundred year old oak trees. But it is cozy and pleasant, and thanks to my husband, more beautiful than it's ever been. Our yard is pleasant and pretty, and I call it all home. It's my safe haven. So I don't at all mean to be ungrateful. But it got me to thinking about how sometimes we, even if for a moment, want what others have. And at that moment, God spoke to my spirit: If you want that, are you willing to do what those people did to get it? Now in reality, I have some very nice trees in my backyard, and no more room to plant any that would grow very big. But if I DID have the room, and I DID plant the trees, it would be at least twenty years before I got to enjoy them at a size of that magnitude. So, here's the next question: Are you willing to sow something that you won't get to reap for a long time, if at all? Are we willing to sow into what our children and grandchildren, biological and spiritual, will reap?
Today as I drove to a substitute teaching job, I saw another beautiful home. White stucco with columns, probably not an old house, but built to have that same charm. I thought for an instant how nice it would be to sit on that porch and drink iced tea, but my very next thought was, "Who would pressure wash it when it got covered with red clay?". There is always a price, whether we are talking about the physical, or the spiritual. Some things aren't worth it, and some things aren't for us. And that's ok. A white stucco house probably isn't for me. But what about the things that ARE for me? Am I going to go after them? Am I going to sow into the dreams God has placed within me? Or watch others from afar, wishing for a magic button, while my own character suffers?
The next time you are envious, even a little, think about what it cost the people involved. That marriage where they still look at each other like newlyweds? Maybe they walked through hell and fought their way back. That dream job with six figures? Maybe that guy started out cleaning toilets just to feed his family, until he was able to work himself into a better job. That person that seems so close to God? God rescued that person, just as He did you and me. They are simply choosing to live out of  love and gratitude for what He did. Those tiny seeds of faith you plant today, the weeding, the watering, the pruning, caring for the dreams He's placed within you will yield a life of strength and beauty.
As usual, this was more for me than anyone, but if it would challenge someone else, I am happy to share. I am going to have that glass of iced tea....on my own porch. :)

"I'm Praying For You" and other meaningless chatter

A couple of months ago, I saw on Facebook that an old friend of mine was going through some hard times. I told him the usual Christian thing to tell people who are going through a hard time, from a safe distance away. "I'm praying for you." Some people are grateful for my promise of prayers, and most are polite enough to pretend to be. However, this friend, whose belief system is very different from my own, politely let me know that prayers wouldn't help. I could have taken offense, and preached to him about why prayers do help, and then blocked or deleted him. But why? Because I was challenged? I told him that I really did hope things got better for him.  He appreciated that more than the prayers. And I could tell he was being sincere.

The exchange got me to thinking. First of all, when we say "I'm praying for you", do we mean it? Sometimes we forget, so I try to do it right then. Sometimes I think it's just something to say. Second of all, sometimes Christians say things like, "Well....all we can do is pray." Like it's a last resort. I know the intent of the statement, because I've said it myself. In other words, "No point in worrying. Give it to God." Thirdly.....and the main point of this blog post.....do we offer to pray for people because it's the easy way out? Sometimes, all we really can do is pray. We don't always have money to give people, we can't always drop everything and drive across the country to help a friend in need, etc. But when we are able to help, and choose not to...when we are too busy to get down in the trenches with people, to walk WITH people through the muck and the mire... That is what Jesus did and does. The fact is, the easy thing to do is say "I'm praying for you", offer up a long enough prayer that our conscience is appeased, and go on about our day.

So, should we not tell people we are praying for them? Should we not pray for them? Of course. There is no greater privilege than to approach the throne of grace on behalf of our loved ones. But when possible, go one step further. Don't just sound like Jesus. Be Jesus. This really challenged me. I hope it does the same for you. Be blessed. Be a blessing. Know how much you are loved. Love others (action verb).