God Doesn't Need Our Holidays

This time of year, you start to hear talk of taking Christ out of Christmas. It seems many Christians feel threatened by the possibility, but I wonder--is it even possible?

Jesus. In mind blowing subtlety entered human history. That He would come in so ordinary a way as the way that we all come is staggering. Shocking. Unless, of course, the extraordinary of it gets lost in the ordinary. Not that it could ever be objectively ordinary, but if you lived in a tent at the Grand Canyon, it might not always seem as grand as when you first saw it. And if you've grown accustom to words like Incarnation, sometimes they become just that--words. And sometimes you can yawn through Luke chapter 2, as if heaven weren't meeting earth in those words. But God himself really did become not just a human, but a baby, as vulnerable and dependent as any other infant ever born. And I think it's such tender love that He would do it this way. That we who understand our world through family and through names, would have a Savior with a name and flesh and blood lineage. That we, who understand our world through our five senses, would have a Savior who bound himself in degree to the limits of sight and sound, touch, taste and smell. Forever-existing, I AM God became man. Long-awaited Messiah, true to every promise, really did arrive.

Take Christ out of Christmas?

 Herod tried to take him out for good and that failed.

In miraculous fashion, the wise men found him. The shepherds found him.

He avoided multiple attempts on his life before the time was right. And when the time was right, even another Herod and all the forces of darkness couldn't keep him in the grave.

Is Christ threatened when his baby resin image isn't allowed in some public place?


How does one take Someone out of anything when that Someone is actually holding galaxies together? Allowing our very next breath?

I get the sentiment behind the concern. We mean well, don't we? We feel we must do our part. But maybe part of our part is to remember just how big our Christ really is. Maybe we need to let the reality of incarnation sink in a bit more. Maybe we need to remember that nothing can diminish him, and that though we might feel threatened, He never does. He is not wringing his hands, wondering about the outcome of human history, for He will build his church and the gates of hell will not prevail against it (Matthew 16:18).

A.W. Tozer notes:

"What comes into our mind when we think about God is the most important thing about us...were we able to extract from any man a complete answer to the question, "What comes into your mind when you think about God?" we might predict with certainty the spiritual future of that man."

Our understanding of God will determine how we think and how we live. If we believe this, then it would seem that our greatest threat is not from some outside force beyond our control, but that our greatest threat is in fact, ourselves. "Jesus is the reason for the season," we can tout with self-righteousness smugness, but do we live like He's the reason for every season, for every breath?

I love the season of Advent. I love the opportunity to slow down, to prepare my heart for the celebration of Jesus' coming. But helpful and beautiful though it is, the Church calendar was man's idea. If I were to cease to make Advent holy, Jesus would be no less glorious. I just might not see his glory in the same way. So, perhaps if I could borrow from Jesus' take on the Sabbath (though of course, keeping the Sabbath was a command, and the keeping the church calendar is not) , we could say, "Advent is for man, not man for Advent, and Christmas is for man, not man for Christmas." God doesn't need our holidays. They were made so that we might have markers to remember him. He is not threatened by who keeps them or how they're  kept. But the spirit in which we enter into them--and enter into all of life, really--will determine how we know him and make him known. If we remember how great He is, then our confidence will be unshakable. Like the woman of Proverbs 31, we'll be able to "laugh at the days to come." And though evil and injustice will grieve our hearts and move us to action, we will trust that the day is coming when God will set everything right. And we'll remember this--loving our neighbors will show them more of Christ than how we stand for any cause.

An Ode to Community

Community.

It’s so much more than a trend, a cliché, or a buzz-word.

It's...

when the lonely sit around tables not their own but are made to feel like they’re home.

when addicts are loved and helped. And loved and helped. Until addiction holds no power.

when Church goes beyond brick and mortar walls to find Jesus in the elderly, sick, and poor.

It's...

tears falling for the pain of another.

feeling just as happy for your success as I do for my own. 

leaning into the tension of each others' confusion and resisting the urge to run.

It’s...

my soul being revived day after day because of you, my family. 

knowing I can keep going because we’re in this together. 

the hope that fills my heart when that just-right word is spoken.

It’s the growing and expanding of my soul due to its contact with yours.

Community.

It’s Communing.

Communion.

It’s Bread and Wine.

Body and Blood.

My life poured out for yours, because His was poured out for mine.

Kicking Self-Pity to the Curb

I was listening to the radio in the car today when a lady called into the station to talk about her holiday plans. She said that she felt resentful about Thanksgiving this year because her kids would be with their dad, leaving her all alone. The dj replied that she could totally understand what the lady was going through because she was in fact, in the exact same situation--her kids would be with their dad, leaving her all alone, with no one to spend the holiday with...except, she decided to do something different. She would be going to a women's shelter, serving and spending the day with others who were hurting. She said, "I decided that I didn't want to give in to self-pity. There's always someone who has it worse than I do."

Self-pity. It really is such a life-sucking practice--both for ourselves and those around us. Because the more I focus upon what I think I'm missing out on, the more I actually miss.

I miss the good of what's right here in front of me. I really do. Because it's quite impossible to feel sorry for myself and at the same time turn my face up in wonder at the sky above me...or see the myriad of other blessings that surround me.

Self-pity is like so many other negative attitudes (worry, fear...) in that it seems if we let them go, we are giving up control. At least if I don't have what I want, I can sit here and feel entitled. I can think about how no one else is catering to my desires (and self-righteously think that if I were in their shoes I would do it better). But the reality is that living in the grip of these attitudes and emotions is really living as a slave. They control us.

And what a weight is lifted when I choose, however painfully at first, to declare my independence from self-pity. It really never was helping me to begin with. As Beth Moore says of insecurity, it's "been a bad friend to us."

There's a big wide world out there that needs our compassion and love. Do we really want to waste our time on something as suffocating and soul-destroying and ridiculous as self-pity? Do we really want to meet Jesus one day and have to look him in the eyes and say, "Sorry, Lord. I know you're really into all that loving and serving others stuff, like the least of these and all that...but, it was really frustrating when things didn't go my way...and it seemed like I deserved a little pity-party every now and then. I just didn't realize how much it would keep me from doing all that stuff you said to do..."

And the other side to the coin is that you may be serving yourself into a frenzy and feeling quite sorry for yourself in the process. Better to scale back and like Mary, sit at Jesus' feet for a while, than to be embittered and self-righteous and wind up throwing in the towel altogether. If we're learning from him in the Gospels and talking with him in prayer, I don't think there's much danger of us never serving others again. I think he can show us how to do it right. (And there's certainly a time to keep serving when we don't feel like it, but if you're resenting every serving role you are in, it might be a sign that you're simply spread too thin.)

So. let's kick self-pity to the curb, shall we?

Let's count our blessings. Literally. List them. Write them down. Thank God for them out loud.

Let's make a practice of going out of our way to thank people for for the big and little things they do for us.

Let's remember that even on our worst days, there's someone out there who is facing something difficult too. We're not the only ones. For every self-pitying thought, let's utter a prayer of repentance and thanks, until we train our hearts and minds to the rhythm of these words:

Why are you cast down, oh my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God. 
Psalm 42:11

My Story and the "Old, Old Story"

There are few things that, if I meditate upon for very long, produce the kind of response in me that the kindness and faithfulness of the Lord do. Oh, I am definitely not always as thankful as I ought to be. But, if I pause long enough to think upon all that I have been given and all that I have been spared, my heart that is far too often cold and indifferent, begins to warm and be elevated in praise.

"On you I was cast from birth, and from my mother's womb you have been my God." *

I can see her there on the couch, curled up in her blue robe, burning the midnight oil as she mined The Word, searching for treasure. From her example I learned to do the same as a young girl, little knowing the worth of creating those grooves, familiar territory my feet would return to over and over again.

And when an optic nerve disease claimed her vision, the sound of her audio Bible could be heard many times throughout the day and night.

When she learned she was going blind, I remember her saying that she sang the song "You are My Hiding Place" to herself all the way home. On New Year's Eve last year, when the news came that a friend's wife had died suddenly--friends Geoff and I had just had breakfast with on Christmas Eve--we drove in shocked silence to be with a man now a widower. And I sang to myself, "You are my Hiding Place. You always fill my heart with songs of deliverance. Whenever I am afraid I will trust in you." And when we welcomed 2013 with tears and painful silence, I still knew He was with us.

I can see my dad, gently leading, faithfully teaching. I can see us driving in that old mini van to church, and hearing him tell us the significance of what we are about to do--of what it means to gather with other believers and worship the Living God.

I can see myself with my siblings, running to meet him at the door when he came home from work. His love and patience with us such reflections of God's.

And when seven years of depression claimed him from the dinner table and the drive to church, the seeds that were planted began to bear fruit, and I turned to God as Father like never before.

Like many, I've acquired my share of wounds from my childhood. Some perhaps by mistakes my parents made, some by my responses to those mistakes, and some by my own folly. It goes without saying that mom and dad weren't perfect.

But I'll be forever thankful for this: they taught me of Jesus.

And all throughout my life, in all the times I have been "prone to wander," I have always, always been drawn back, wooed by the grace and loving-kindness of the Lord.

Sometimes I'm stopped in my tracks, stunned by the goodness of a God who has never relaxed his grip upon me. I have doubted. I have been depressed, ungrateful, spiteful, self-pitying, and the list goes on. But He has been forgiving, patient, loving, merciful, relentless, and the list goes on.

In our Do-It-Yourself-Rugged-Individualist-I Did-it-My-Way Culture, it seems strange to say I wouldn't be who I am if not for another. But it's true. Though I may have come to know the grace of Jesus some other way, I'm so grateful that it happened this way, that over and over again I've been able to trace the lines of His faithfulness all the way back to my childhood. And that over and over again, through tears in my eyes, I've gotten to say, "Thank You. For all that I have been given, and for all that I have been spared of a life without You, Thank You."

It's not that my story is better that yours or that of anyone else. I confess there have been times that I've craved a more exciting "before and after" conversion story. But, I'm learning that the quiet, steady grace of the Lord is just as beautiful as the more attention-getting demonstrations of his power to save. I love that He calls us so uniquely and so perfectly--and that all of our stories flow out of and are swallowed up in The Story, "...an old, old story/ How a Savior came from glory/ How he gave his life on Calvary/ To save a wretch like me." However your story has unfolded, if you know this Savior, I suspect that if you pause long enough to think about it, gratitude will flood your heart as well.

"For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, so that, as it is written,“Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”
 (1 Corinthians 1:26-30)

Yes, "redeeming love has been my theme, and shall be 'till I die. And shall be 'till I die..."


*Psalm 22:10

  Hymns: 
"Victory in Jesus," Eugene Monroe Bartlett, Sr
"There Is a Fountain Filled With Blood," William Cowper

Weird Things Christians Say

A few weeks ago Geoff and I were driving back from out of town and he asked me this question: Do you ever hear people say that they’ve really been “pressing in” to the Lord?” I thought about it and recalled hearing the phrase before. “What does that even mean?” He asked. We proceeded to have a discussion about what people might mean when they use that vague expression. We didn’t get very far though, because it was actually difficult to come up with any answers. Do they mean they’ve been praying more than usual? Do they mean they’ve been getting serious about other spiritual disciplines? Do they mean they’ve been repenting of bad habits and renewing their minds? Who really knows?

Another vague, but often used phrase/ idea is this: You just need to stop trying so hard and let God work through you. There are many variations on this one, such as “Let go and let God,” or “Don’t think so hard about it; just trust God,” etc. 

These ideas might sound nice in theory, but there’s a problem with them. They don’t make sense. For instance, what does it practically look like for me to stop trying and to simply let God do something through me? Say I am struggling with a specific sin or addiction, does this mean I don’t avail myself of any of the practical tools I have available in fighting temptation while I wait for this mystical experience of letting God work “through” me? Meanwhile, the opportunity and provocation to sin arise, but since it doesn’t seem like God is interested in working through me at the moment, I acquiesce to the temptation.

Also, it’s difficult to find any of the Biblical authors actually saying anything that resembles this hyper-spiritual Christian lingo. While Scripture does say, thankfully, that God is at work in us, it also assumes and even commands our active participation. To the Philippian church Paul says, “Therefore, my beloved, as you have always obeyed, so now, not only as in my presence but much more in my absence, work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (Philippians 2:12-13). Yes, God is at work in us, but this ought never to be used as a cop-out. Rather, the very fact that God is at work in us is the motivation behind putting forth effort in our growth into Christ-likeness.

Dallas Willard notes that “This process of "conformation to Christ”… is constantly supported by grace, and otherwise would be impossible. But it is not therefore passive. Grace is opposed to earning, not to effort. In fact, nothing inspires and enhances effort like the experience of Grace. Yet it is today necessary to assert boldly and often that becoming Christlike never occurs without intense and well-informed action on our part.”

When I was in college, I spent a summer in Santa Cruz, California doing ministry among co-workers I met through a job on the beach boardwalk. While there, I attended a local church every Sunday. The pastor of the church was a very kind man who had experienced serious burn-out in ministry. He shared that, now that he was on the other side of that burn-out, he approached ministry and life in general differently. He said that his focus was no longer upon making plans, but upon what God wanted to do through him. He said that we need to get out of the way and let God live his life through us. It sounded like a really refreshing idea, and I remember thinking that I should try it out. But when it came down to practical application I was confused. Wait...so how is this supposed to work?

I understand that there is something to be said for holding our plans loosely. And the Christian life is certainly not meant to be one of pulling ourselves up by the bootstraps and trying really hard in a way that is divorced from the helps that God has given us, such as the support of a Christian community, prayer, and other disciplines. But trying really hard is not the problem. I don't see how Jesus could have meant we're not supposed to try when he said that we are to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind, and strength.

I fear that the “Just let God work through you” version of Christianity is doing many a disservice. We need to think through the things we tell others, as well as evaluate how we may be being influenced by the weird/untrue/inaccurate things others say.

 http://www.dwillard.org/articles/artview.asp?artID=168

The Discipline of Inspiration

I’m sitting at a quaint little coffee shop in Waco, Tx called Common Grounds. It’s that time of year when the weather is beginning to change, or we’ve at least received our first “cool” front, making it actually pleasant to be outside. Yes, I am sitting outside at almost two’oclock in the afternoon and it’s not scorching hot. The weather almost makes me giddy. A cool breeze blows and every once in a while I’ll notice a leaf falling from a tree and fluttering to the ground. I’m sitting on a velvet avocado green sofa on a charming little deck with a cinnamon roll muffin in front of me and the white noise of students talking in low voices around me. I’ve just had a conversation with a college student I know from back home and I feel revived. She’s just the kind of person I need in my life. The kind who is full of life and enthusiasm, free of cynicism, still hopeful and optimistic about the future. 

Ah, THIS. I love times like this. I feel a surge of excitement welling up within me. I see my life in a fresh light. I feel inspired.

Nothing earth-shattering has happened. Just a brief retreat from the normal routine of my life. Just a little time doing some of the things I love to do: sitting at a coffee shop, having a meaningful conversation, journaling, being in nature, having quality time with Geoff, enjoying good food and coffee and chai.

 I’ll drive back home today, back to the normal routine of my life. But, I have to ask myself this: if these things inspire me, if they help me to recover some of the excitement for life that at times seems to elude me, then why not seek them out more often? Why not seek out happy people and let their joy rub off on me? Why not slow down more often and simply enjoy some of God’s good gifts? Why not make a discipline of inspiration?

I don’t have to tell you that life is hard. An infant who’s been alive for five minutes already knows that survival is at times a grueling task. We’re harassed by struggles from without and the ever-present struggle of our own inner giants and demons. Even when all is well, we are not always well. And often we compound our own struggles by not availing ourselves of the rest and refreshment that are available to us. We may feel guilty indulging in some of life's simple pleasures. Maybe subconsciously we feel we don’t deserve them, and so foregoing them is some kind of penance. Maybe five minutes of quiet doesn't even seem possible in your current situation.

But I think it's worth fighting for the things that bring us joy, refreshment, and inspiration. I think maybe we can't afford not to fight for these things.

I'm not talking about lavish living. I'm not talking about selfishly neglecting the people or tasks that need our attention.

I'm talking about incorporating celebration into our lives. I'm talking about a way of life that seeks out those things that we know bring us joy and inspire us towards reaching our God-given potential. I'm talking about humbly opening up our hands to receive the good things the Lord has given that sweeten our days and leave us better equipped to carry out his mission on earth.

It's time we stop one-upping each other with our talk of how busy our lives are. It's time we eliminate the the unnecessary activities that only add stress and subtract peace. It's time we create space for the things that help breathe life into our souls.

Ordinary Faithfulness

Being faithful isn't glamorous.

It looks a lot like changing dirty diapers. And waking up with a sleeping baby in the morning's wee hours.

It looks a lot like waking up when the alarm goes off to read some scripture before heading off to work.

It looks a lot like practice, and not a lot like performance.

It looks a lot like doing the same things over and over.

But it's easy to be addicted to the high of the next big thing.

Geoff reminded me recently that not everything I write has to be amazing, or as some would say, "epic."  The important thing is that I'm practicing, and seeking to share with others whatever the Lord has given me to share. And the same is true for all of life. Not everything we do, not everything we contribute to the world has to be amazing. And that's good news, because it's doubtful that even a little of what we do will be all that grandiose, at least in the ways we're accustomed to thinking of grandness. The important thing is that we are being faithful in the spheres we've been given to tend, that the little plots we have stay watered and as lovely as we can make them. Watering is a fairly mundane task, but diligently tended yards are usually the most enjoyable to look at and spend time in.

The other day, I read this from Proverbs Twenty-four:

I passed by the field of a sluggard,
by the vineyard of a man lacking sense,
and behold, it was all overgrown with thorns;
the ground was covered with nettles,
and its stone wall was broken down.
Then I saw and considered it;
I looked and received instruction.
A little sleep, a little slumber,
A little folding of the hands to rest,
and poverty will come upon you like a robber,
and want like an armed man. (vs.30-34).

In the margin I wrote the word Stewardship, because these verses speak to me not only of avoiding the poverty of an empty bank account, but of the tragedy of a wasted life. I've been trying to read a chapter from Proverbs every day for a while now, and every 24th of the month that I read these words they seem to be written directly to me, because I know there are some thorns and nettles in my vineyard that need to be dealt with. But often, I over-complicate matters. Instead of tending to the thorns and nettles by faithful work in the things I've been called to, I become paralyzed. Sometimes I opt for literal sleep (hitting snooze a few too many times), and sometimes the sleep of mindless activity. I am often like the sluggard of another Proverb that says, "There is a lion in the road! There is a lion in the streets!" (26:13). Many excuses can be made when it comes to 1. facing our fears, and 2. doing the hard, and sometimes monotonous work of stewarding our lives well.

So, my encouragement for you and for me is simple:

Press on through the ordinary stuff of today. Press on when practice is frustrating and unexciting. Press on, not only for the reward that will come in the end, but for the joy of knowing you're being faithful today.

 "...He [Jesus] died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves, but for him who for their sake died and was raised" (2 Corinthians 5:15).  For him, faithfulness wasn't glamorous either. It looked a lot like a cross. And that cross gave us access to a deluge of grace, a grace that is still unequivocally available even on our least faithful days. But did you catch what this passage says about why he died? So that we would no longer live for ourselves, but for him. That means he gets our stuff. That means he calls the shots with our time and our talents. That means we have the awesome privilege of living in loyalty to the greatest Teacher, the greatest Friend, the greatest King who ever lived, and not only died, but was raised. We get to join him in his mission on the earth, and he has chosen to use not perfect, but faithful people who will change diapers and meet deadlines, and write poems, and paint, and teach, and do all that we do in a way that says, "Look at my King! He is great!" And as we do, we'll hear the echo in our own hearts saying Yes, Yes He is. I have a great King.

Not surprisingly, I'm hearing it louder even now...

Today = Your Life

The saying goes, "How you live your days is how you live your life," and I'm not so sure I like that saying today. Not because it's not true, but because it is all too true. And I'm not proud of how I live every day. There is too much wasted time. And not enough kind words spoken. There is too much "stinkin' thinkin'." And not enough out on limbs loving.

Since moving into our rent house, a nearby cemetery has become a regular sight in our routes to various places. Typically, I can't drive by without noticing the graves and wondering about the people who are buried there. And I rarely pass by without this thought crossing my mind: someday you're going to die too. I'm thankful for this healthy reminder.

I started reading "7 Habits of Highly Effective People" once. It's a little ironic that I never finished it. And don't worry, this isn't going to be a post lauding laziness disguised as free-spiritedness and embracing myself just as I am because, after all, there's grace (oh, wait, maybe you were hoping for that...). Because I am realizing this: I'll never do the things I don't set out to do. It's not that not finishing the book was some horrible sin, but a pile of unfinished tasks that I don't complete due to a lack of discipline probably is. Sunday after Sunday rolls around, and as I reflect on the past week, often it seems like I'm just the same person that I was the week before...and the week before. I know change is probably happening in small ways that are at times imperceptible to me, but I also know that generally, change and growth aren't simply going to fall upon me. I must have an active roll in my own progress. No one else can take these steps for me, a hard realization for someone who is chronically indecisive and not as much of a self-starter as I would like to be (see what I did there?  I labeled myself...easier to excuse my behavior that way). A friend once said, "Change happens in the specifics," and for such a simple statement it could be quite monumental if applied. My vague resolutions each week to do or be better aren't likely to yield much fruit, but working on a specific habit that I want to change, or implementing one that I would like to change me? That seems like a good place to start.

I normally take naps on Sunday afternoons, and believe me, I am a big proponent of naps. But I also know that I usually sleep too long and wake up groggy and out of sorts, and the afternoon is gone. Today I am trying something new: I decided to write instead. Later, I will spend some time reading and reflecting on today's sermon. Week after week I yearn for change, and week after week I do the same things over and over. It's time to change it up. Not to throw out habits and routines, but to hold on to the ones I know are good, and to try some new ones as well. Change happens in the specifics, so I'll make specific changes, and with The Resurrected Jesus at work within me, I know the odds are in my favor. In fact, God's plan all along has been to make me like his Son. But all through Scripture I see that this won't happen apart from my cooperation. I am called to action. I am called to put on good habits and to put other ones to death. I am called to endure, to persevere, to fight the good fight.

I have one life to live. This. Right Here. Right Now. When I string all of my todays together, that will have been it, this side of a resurrected body at least. But on most days I don't think this really sinks in. We are creatures so deeply entrenched in our habits and thought patterns and I've grown used to counting on tomorrow and assuming I'll have a chance later on to really get serious about who I am and who I'm becoming. But oh, if I could emblazon this on my heart, that all of my right nows and all of my todays and right-this-seconds are my life and added all up will be it's sum total! It's a simple equation that I should probably write on my mirror and look at every morning: Today = your life (my math loving husband would be proud).

For a forgetful disciple in need of change, Lord have mercy.

On Waiting Well

Some things you write about because you feel you have come through to the other side and can offer insight and help to others who may be going through similar situations. Some things you write about because you’re still in the midst of it and writing about it is a way to process your thoughts as well as invite others into your journey. This post will be more of the latter. Not written out of any expertise, but rather my current (and I’m sure ongoing) need to learn to wait well.

We wait for many things in life. Red lights to turn green. Dinner to be ready. Waiters to bring our food. Doctors to  finally see us. Planes to take off. Packages to arrive. The list goes on and on. Waiting well in these situations is important, but not always quite as formative or anxiety-inducing as waiting for things like medical test results, a deep desire to come to fruition (and wondering if it ever will), or a decision about a huge life change to be worked out.

Lately, I’ve found myself in a state of waiting for various “big” things and the question that’s been rolling around in my mind is, how do I wait well? Because there’s certainly a way to not wait well. Not waiting well would be to obsessively think about the thing I am waiting for, hindering me from being present in the moment. I would not be waiting well if I were filled with anxiety about outcomes. I would not be waiting well if I envied the people who have the things I want, are in the life stages I would like to be in, or who seem to be settled into a rhythm of life, without any major decisions or outcomes to be determined (although, we rarely can go for very long without coming into a period of waiting for something).

So, how do we wait well? Here are some ideas: 

1. Do the good that is before you to do. 

A wise missionary friend recently pointed out that we sometimes wait around, wondering what good thing we are supposed to be doing. After all, Paul does say, "For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." So, if God has good works prepared, how do I know which ones I'm supposed to do? What if I overstep my bounds and end up doing the good works prepared for someone else? Yes, Paul says God has prepared good works for us to walk in, but this should be an incentive to be obedient and get crackin', not an excuse for laziness disguised as super spirituality. More often than not, the good we can do is quite obvious, and there is quite enough to go around. And this is one of the best ways to wait well, because not only will we find ourselves obeying Jesus and blessing the people around us, we will also be able to shift our focus from ourselves and in doing so, find great freedom from the discontentment or anxiety that may be hounding us.

      2. Practice being present in the moment.

      This one is, of course, easier said than done, but it is essential for anyone desiring to wait well. Because being perpetually focused on the next thing will only cause you to waste today. So, you may (like me) need to start small. For example, I have noticed a tendency in myself to get antsy once I've finished dinner at a restaurant. Even with a group of people I love, I am often anxious to move on to the next thing on the agenda, even if we haven't received our check. One thing I have always admired about my parents is their ability to linger over a meal and just sit and enjoy conversation even after the dishes are cleared. Maybe if we learn to be present in these smaller ways, we would be able to discipline ourselves to be present and engaged as we wait on bigger events to unfold. As we anchor ourselves to the moment, we will be more effective in our tasks at hand and better able to see the good works before us to do, as discussed in #1. And as a fringe benefit, we'll probably have more fun along the way.

      3. Turn your pity parties inside out. 

      As we wait, it can be all too easy to fall into the trap of self-pity. Others' lives may seem to be moving along more smoothly than ours, they may have things we desire and are waiting to have, etc. Our observation (usually lacking all the facts) turns to envy and our envy turns to feeling sorry for ourselves. Why can't things work out like that for me? Why aren't people more sensitive to what I'm going through/ waiting for? Before we know it, we can spiral into a state of depression, all because we feel entitled to our lives being the cookie cutter version of the success or ease we perceive in someone else. But do you know one of the greatest anecdotes to self-pity? In this instance, it would seem we need to focus less on others, but the opposite is true: we need to focus upon others more, just not in relation to ourselves. We need to look at their lives and see them, not what we want but don't have. And we will soon find that they too have things that they are waiting or longing for, or nagging trials and irritations just like we do. Contrary to what your therapist might tell you, one of the greatest anecdotes for self-pity is not self-love, self-care, or self-esteem; it is compassion, love, care, and esteem of others. It is service. We need to turn our pity parties inside out so that the gut feelings we have for ourselves become directed towards others. So that we serve the ones we envy until our envy dissolves into compassion. So that we serve the ones around us who may still be passed over and nameless to us, but who will soon become not only the served, but the blessed servants in our own healing--the healing that comes from the death of self-love.

      I have only listed three things. Three things that I desperately need to make real in my life. There is, of course, much more that can be said about this subject. And as you can see, there is so much more to waiting well than simply letting time pass. To wait well we must enter into time, enter into the seconds and minutes of each day, and actively seek to  be changed, for change is always needed. From our birth to our death, our lives will be filled with waiting. It will do us no good to fight reality or try to bend it to our liking. Rather, with all the varieties and degrees of waiting before us, we would be wise to learn that waiting well must be sought with humility and intentionality, and will always involve learning to love our neighbor as ourselves.

Dear Young Women of the World

Dear Young Women of the World,

How do I say this gently?  Sometimes you settle for what is less than ideal. And by that I mean, sometimes you date cads. You date the guys who attract you with their seemingly strong and in-control ways, but who really just try to control you. You date the guys who boast of their relational exploits but somehow get you to believe that you're special and different--and yes, you're special, but not to him. You date the bad boys and feel a rush of adrenaline and begin to think that good guys are just too boring.  

Why do you do this? Maybe it’s the fear that your options won’t get any better. Maybe it’s the distaste for being alone. Maybe it’s the lie that this moment is all there is.

Believe me, I know it can be a struggle. I’ve had my share of what felt like rejection. I’ve known my share of creeps and God-told-me-we should-be-together-spiritual manipulator-types. I’ve made some errors in judgment. I've watched my friends marry the good guys and wonder if there would be any left by the time my turn came around.

But thankfully, I learned from my mistakes. And thankfully, if I ever settled, it was short-lived and the damage wasn’t too deep.

But will you hear me on this? If you’re settling now and you know it, how long will you let it go on? If you don’t have the resolve to end it now, do you think your habits will change before you’re ready to be married? And, why stay with a man who you know is not good husband material, who you would not want to be the father of your children (hint: bad boys don't make good dads).

And there’s so much more at stake here than whether you are single for a little longer than you would prefer. There’s this grand story of redemption being enacted this very moment and we all have the choice of whether we’ll join in and have a role or wake up one day to the tragedy that we followed our own script and the story went right on without us. But perhaps an even more serious realization will be that following our own script was never some harmless, neutral option, but that doing so left undone a host of good things that could have been done and maybe even did some damage to others in the process. 

That young girl you knew? She could have seen you as an example.You could have pointed her towards a good and beautiful way of living, but instead you were busy doing what felt good at the moment. That elderly widow at church? She could have taught you that prayer is one of the wisest ways to spend your time and she could have shown you what perseverance looks like. That marriage you always thought would be wonderful to have? The one where you worshiped and prayed and served together? The one where you practiced hospitality and that radiated with loving sacrifice and pointed others to the Living God? You never experienced it because Mr. Bad Boy never left the picture and now every day is a struggle to stay married to the one you promised to be faithful to, who never changed like you hoped he would.

Does this sound bleak? I hope it does. I hope that you don’t think you are the exception. Yes, Jesus forgives. But you can’t re-live what could have been and you can’t undo what has been.

If there are red flags, they are there for a reason. If others are warning you or giving you advice, it’s because they love you. Listen. Proverbs says that the wise listen to instruction and become even wiser. It also says that fools don’t listen to instruction and it has a lot to say about the consequences they face. Oh, would you be wise? Would you choose to have a role in the beautiful story of Jesus’ kingdom coming on earth? Would you look to examples of wise women who are giving their lives away in service to others, and who are finding greater fulfillment and joy than they ever thought possible? Would you build your life upon the firm foundation of Jesus’ teachings, so that when the rain and storms come, your house will stand? 

Dear Young Women of the World, we need you. We need your hands and feet. We need your intellect. We need your hearts of compassion. We need your creativity. The Church needs you. The world needs you. It has enough young women who are living for what feels good and what’s comfortable and who can’t see past today. It has enough young women who are doing more harm than good. So please settle this: to not settle. I promise, you won’t regret it.