Caleb Selah and I were back in NJ for a wedding, and we're finally back "home" in TN. It's a very bizarre feeling to know that this is where I live now. Being back in familiarity for a little bit for the wedding was strange. Something so familiar feels like home, but it's not right now. That's alarming.
I never forgot hearing at Greenville after my first trip back to NJ that home is not a place, but wherever you are.
It made me feel less unsettled then, because I felt overwhelmed about how two places felt equally serene in my heart.
Again, I find myself replaying this scene in my new house as opposed to my dorm room in Greenville.
Home is a lot of things. Today it's rather confusing.
Right now, the home I need to accept is where I am. Here's to settling hopefully settling in!
Sunday, August 16, 2015
Wednesday, July 22, 2015
We've been framed
Up in her attic, where she rarely went, there were boxes full of memories. Each one coated with dust, each one a story.
The downstairs was getting fuller and fuller of so much stuff. She had to venture up in that attic to clear out some space.
Up the wooden staircase, through the cob webs and musty scent she went.
She placed a new brown box full of unneeded items on the floor. She turned around to leave, when, oh wait. What's in there?
Oh. She remembered that box. She remembered all of it.
She sat down, and opened up the box.
One by one she pulled out a memory.
This one made her sad. She felt her eyes sting.
The next one made her angry. She felt like screaming.
The next one made her feel frustrated, and sad and angry at the same time. She gripped that memory with white knuckles.
She remembered everything. The memories refreshed themselves in her mind, and she felt like they weren't memories. No, these things still lived. They shouldn't have been boxed up. She relived the box anew. New life was given to old memories. The memories had been summoned, invited. They were no longer of days past. Now they are today.
She took her box of memories, and carried them downstairs.
One by one she framed them in her home. She set them on her walls, so everyone who entered her home would see them. They are precious to her. They belong to her.
She belongs to them.
She is a prisoner of these memories. They have power over her. They make her not only remember, but feel.
It's not possible for the past to live in today. Time leaves yesterday behind. But memory reaches out a hand, to pull back the past into the present. Yesterday isn't today. But it feels like it to her.
It feels like it to me.
Occasionally I go upstairs to my "attic," a place in my heart where I store my deepest feelings and most sacred experiences. Some happy, some sad, some terrifying, some earth shattering.
I visit this place, I watch the memories play before me as if on a plasma screen TV. I'm overwhelmed at my memory. I'm overwhelmed. I feel. I feel all over again.
Sometimes I take these memories "downstairs." Into my current mood. Into my words I'm currently speaking. Into my reactions to new things. Into my reasons for my current tasks. Into the core of my very being.
And I feel secure. I feel loved by my own memories. I feel understood, because they are mine. I control them. They take orders from me.
But that's not true.
My emotions are all too submissive to my memories.
I am a slave to my memory.
Why does God let me remember? Why can't I forget? Why can't I move on into a new place, estranged to the evil that lurks in my "attic," my mind?
How can I disengage my heart, when I feel so seen, so known, so safe inside my memories?
Memory is something other worldly. The Bible constantly uses the word remember. The Israelites constantly forgot the Lord, their God.
Judges 8:34 says Thus the sons of Israel did not remember the LORD their God, who had delivered them from the hands of all their enemies on every side.
Their memory failed them in some ways, but not in others. Yes, they remembered something else. At least they thought they did. They remembered comfort. They remembered ease. They valued the past, even though when they were in the past, their slavery, they suffered and begged for deliverance.
Their memory was alive and well... but not to make them alive and well. They chose to allow their memory to enslave them again. The memories changed as they recalled them while in current fits of rage of confusion and hurt. Those memories didn't shine anew since they had in fact been saved. No. They viewed their memories through lenses of pain, and confusion. Now those memories didn't seem like bad ones. They seemed like home. They felt like home.
They had gone up to their attic, retrieved memories and felt them anew, and framed them in their current mind so that they viewed their today enslaved to disillusionment.
Judges 3:7 The Israelites did evil in the eyes of the LORD; they forgot the LORD their God and served the Baals and the Asherahs.
Psalm 78:42 They did not remember his power-- the day he redeemed them from the oppressor,
Deuteronomy 4:9 Only be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them fade from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them.
We are remembered by God. He remembers us. He calls forth the past, and brings it to today, and remembers.
But this can't be right. This can't be good. He knows us. He knows us too well! This can't be a good thing!
Jeremiah 1:5 Before I formed you in the womb I knew you...
Psalm 69:5 O God, it is You who knows my folly, And my wrongs are not hidden from You.
Psalm 44:20-21 If we had forgotten the name of our God Or extended our hands to a strange god, would not God find this out? For He knows the secrets of the heart.
He knows us too well. If He remembers us, it couldn't be a good memory. He must remember our sin. He must know the things that should separate us from Him forever.
Someone, keep me, hide me! I can't be seen by Him...
Unless.... unless He frames his memory somehow... unless He frames his memories of us in a way that shields us from what we deserve to be in His mind.
Oh... the blood of the Lamb. The blood of the Lamb on our door frames. Our frames. His blood. His blood.
1 Peter 1: 18-19 ...knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, 19 but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.
Hebrews 10:19-23 Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.
When He looks on us, when He remembers us, He sees us framed in the blood of the spotless Lamb. He sees us through the blood of Jesus.
Now our memories... our memories should be framed. But not with pain. Not with hurt. Not with the unforgiving confusion we so easily retrieve.
Our memories must be framed with the blood of the Lamb. So that the pain, the hurt, the sin might pass over us. So that we might be saved from he that lives to rob, kill and destroy.
The downstairs was getting fuller and fuller of so much stuff. She had to venture up in that attic to clear out some space.
Up the wooden staircase, through the cob webs and musty scent she went.
She placed a new brown box full of unneeded items on the floor. She turned around to leave, when, oh wait. What's in there?
Oh. She remembered that box. She remembered all of it.
She sat down, and opened up the box.
One by one she pulled out a memory.
This one made her sad. She felt her eyes sting.
The next one made her angry. She felt like screaming.
The next one made her feel frustrated, and sad and angry at the same time. She gripped that memory with white knuckles.
She remembered everything. The memories refreshed themselves in her mind, and she felt like they weren't memories. No, these things still lived. They shouldn't have been boxed up. She relived the box anew. New life was given to old memories. The memories had been summoned, invited. They were no longer of days past. Now they are today.
She took her box of memories, and carried them downstairs.
One by one she framed them in her home. She set them on her walls, so everyone who entered her home would see them. They are precious to her. They belong to her.
She belongs to them.
She is a prisoner of these memories. They have power over her. They make her not only remember, but feel.
It's not possible for the past to live in today. Time leaves yesterday behind. But memory reaches out a hand, to pull back the past into the present. Yesterday isn't today. But it feels like it to her.
It feels like it to me.
Occasionally I go upstairs to my "attic," a place in my heart where I store my deepest feelings and most sacred experiences. Some happy, some sad, some terrifying, some earth shattering.
I visit this place, I watch the memories play before me as if on a plasma screen TV. I'm overwhelmed at my memory. I'm overwhelmed. I feel. I feel all over again.
Sometimes I take these memories "downstairs." Into my current mood. Into my words I'm currently speaking. Into my reactions to new things. Into my reasons for my current tasks. Into the core of my very being.
And I feel secure. I feel loved by my own memories. I feel understood, because they are mine. I control them. They take orders from me.
But that's not true.
My emotions are all too submissive to my memories.
I am a slave to my memory.
Why does God let me remember? Why can't I forget? Why can't I move on into a new place, estranged to the evil that lurks in my "attic," my mind?
How can I disengage my heart, when I feel so seen, so known, so safe inside my memories?
Memory is something other worldly. The Bible constantly uses the word remember. The Israelites constantly forgot the Lord, their God.
Judges 8:34 says Thus the sons of Israel did not remember the LORD their God, who had delivered them from the hands of all their enemies on every side.
Their memory failed them in some ways, but not in others. Yes, they remembered something else. At least they thought they did. They remembered comfort. They remembered ease. They valued the past, even though when they were in the past, their slavery, they suffered and begged for deliverance.
Their memory was alive and well... but not to make them alive and well. They chose to allow their memory to enslave them again. The memories changed as they recalled them while in current fits of rage of confusion and hurt. Those memories didn't shine anew since they had in fact been saved. No. They viewed their memories through lenses of pain, and confusion. Now those memories didn't seem like bad ones. They seemed like home. They felt like home.
They had gone up to their attic, retrieved memories and felt them anew, and framed them in their current mind so that they viewed their today enslaved to disillusionment.
Judges 3:7 The Israelites did evil in the eyes of the LORD; they forgot the LORD their God and served the Baals and the Asherahs.
Psalm 78:42 They did not remember his power-- the day he redeemed them from the oppressor,
Deuteronomy 4:9 Only be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them fade from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them.
Hmmm... clearly, there is reason as to why God allows our attic to exist. We can use it to store the memories we need. He has a purpose for our memories.
We don't have to forget the pain. We don't have to throw away the dark hurts we store inside.
But they will destroy us if we don't frame them in His purpose.
The Israelites chose to forget His purpose... they framed their memories in their own sickened and hardened hearts. They remembered the pain. They drank it in deep. They chose not to frame their important, precious memories with renewed strength. No. They framed their memories with pain. And the pain grew deeper.
They chose to forget the Lord. They selectively chose their memories to frame, and forgot what they wanted to forget.
There's another side to this picture.
Exodus 2:24 God heard their groaning and he remembered his covenant with Abraham, with Isaac and with Jacob.
Numbers 10:9 When you go into battle in your own land against an enemy who is oppressing you, sound a blast on the trumpets. Then you will be remembered by the LORD your God and rescued from your enemies.
We are remembered by God. He remembers us. He calls forth the past, and brings it to today, and remembers.
But this can't be right. This can't be good. He knows us. He knows us too well! This can't be a good thing!
Jeremiah 1:5 Before I formed you in the womb I knew you...
Psalm 69:5 O God, it is You who knows my folly, And my wrongs are not hidden from You.
Psalm 44:20-21 If we had forgotten the name of our God Or extended our hands to a strange god, would not God find this out? For He knows the secrets of the heart.
He knows us too well. If He remembers us, it couldn't be a good memory. He must remember our sin. He must know the things that should separate us from Him forever.
Someone, keep me, hide me! I can't be seen by Him...
Unless.... unless He frames his memory somehow... unless He frames his memories of us in a way that shields us from what we deserve to be in His mind.
Exodus 12:13 The blood shall be a sign for you, on the houses where you are. And when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and no plague will befall you to destroy you, when I strike the land of Egypt.
1 Peter 1: 18-19 ...knowing that you were ransomed from the futile ways inherited from your forefathers, not with perishable things such as silver or gold, 19 but with the precious blood of Christ, like that of a lamb without blemish or spot.
Hebrews 10:19-23 Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus, by the new and living way that he opened for us through the curtain, that is, through his flesh, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.
When He looks on us, when He remembers us, He sees us framed in the blood of the spotless Lamb. He sees us through the blood of Jesus.
Now our memories... our memories should be framed. But not with pain. Not with hurt. Not with the unforgiving confusion we so easily retrieve.
Our memories must be framed with the blood of the Lamb. So that the pain, the hurt, the sin might pass over us. So that we might be saved from he that lives to rob, kill and destroy.
We've been framed, my friends. We have been framed in the blood of Jesus. We have been framed.
Monday, July 20, 2015
Officially in Tennessee
Caleb, Selah and I are settled into our one room extended stay hotel until we move into our new home at the end of next week. We're in Tennessee. We're going to live here. I guess it's accurate to say we DO live here. But right now I don't exactly feel like it, yet.
I thought at first that we wouldn't stand out like sore thumbs since Nashville is really more of a melting pot. A lot of cities are. Nashville is an attraction for people from all over the country, it's not like having a Jersey "accent" is different. Well, turns out, most people we've talked to since getting here Saturday night are definitely from here. Their thick Tennessee drawls are hard to miss.
I was at the grocery store last night, bagging some kale for some smoothies this week when...
"Excuse me, ma'am?" It took a long time to articulate those three words coming from the tall southern man furrowing his brow at his wife's instructions via text.
"Do you know what green headed lettuce is?" He asked in such drawn out sincerity.
So I instructed him on what to buy, to hopefully please his wife.
As I look back at the occasion, I realize I probably caused a fight between him and his wife, because he ended up getting romaine. Not iceberg lettuce, which I realized later is probably what she meant. Oops. Sorry nice southern person.
I went to the best smoothie place I've ever been yesterday. It's called Daily Juice, and I'm in love. It's entirely too expensive, though, but it got me on a smoothie kick, and Caleb got me a single serve blender so I can just make my own smoothie this week. I'm thrilled. And spoiled.
Selah is adorable. I need to go change her, since she woke up from her five-minute nap. This mama might not accomplish much in the next two weeks....
I thought at first that we wouldn't stand out like sore thumbs since Nashville is really more of a melting pot. A lot of cities are. Nashville is an attraction for people from all over the country, it's not like having a Jersey "accent" is different. Well, turns out, most people we've talked to since getting here Saturday night are definitely from here. Their thick Tennessee drawls are hard to miss.
I was at the grocery store last night, bagging some kale for some smoothies this week when...
"Excuse me, ma'am?" It took a long time to articulate those three words coming from the tall southern man furrowing his brow at his wife's instructions via text.
"Do you know what green headed lettuce is?" He asked in such drawn out sincerity.
So I instructed him on what to buy, to hopefully please his wife.
As I look back at the occasion, I realize I probably caused a fight between him and his wife, because he ended up getting romaine. Not iceberg lettuce, which I realized later is probably what she meant. Oops. Sorry nice southern person.
I went to the best smoothie place I've ever been yesterday. It's called Daily Juice, and I'm in love. It's entirely too expensive, though, but it got me on a smoothie kick, and Caleb got me a single serve blender so I can just make my own smoothie this week. I'm thrilled. And spoiled.
Selah is adorable. I need to go change her, since she woke up from her five-minute nap. This mama might not accomplish much in the next two weeks....
Friday, July 10, 2015
Musical chairs
It's astounding to me how easily we feel judged. Humans are so fragile in every sense. One moment we're happy, the next thing we know the slightest thing sets us off and we're in a spiral heading right for rock bottom.
It doesn't take much.
I've been pondering why discrimination and hate seem to be the facade of disagreement. I am not speaking for all people, but for myself.
I am fearful of other people when I know we don't agree on every little thing.
If someone disagrees with me, I probably can't be friends with that person, right?
If I tell her I don't use a crib yet for my baby, will she talk about me when I'm not around? If I share my stance on gay marriage, will I lose that friend? Fear is a rock solid door we keep closed, and intend to let other people walk into. We must protect ourselves and our feelings. What we believe is law, and it must stay that way. If someone disagrees, our world will shatter, and we cannot function.
Apparently law is but a vapor we can't even keep in our own lungs. If other people's opinions hurt our "laws" so deeply, it's no wonder we get so defensive and feel so threatened by a differing opinion.
This entire situation, though, is reflecting sometime else.
A friend recently asked Caleb how we handle conflict in our marriage, and how we fight about stupid stuff. Caleb shared his answer with me this morning.
"Well, it's more about the problem behind the problem. There's a deeper reason why she's angry about something."
That's the truth of it. Good job, Caleb!
If I'm upset about Caleb forgetting to take out the trash, it's probably more that I'm frustrated about how I needed someone to watch Selah when I was running late for work earlier that day, and he couldn't help me. The trash has nothing to do with it.
There's a deeper reason why there's a reaction of some sort. The tip of the iceberg has been sighted, but the more dangerous side is underneath the surface, and must be sorted out to avoid further damage.
And so it is with differing opinions about something.
Am I really offended that someone started solids earlier than I did with my baby?
No. It's scaring me that maybe I'm not doing a good job being a mommy, and I already accidentally knocked my baby on the head when I was trying to brush my teeth a few hours ago, and I'm still struggling not to feel guilty.
It's not about solids. It's about a deeper fear.
Do I care that much about how many minutes another baby slept for at night?
No. I'm afraid that I'm doing something wrong, or being neglectful and failing at one of the most important things I'll ever do with my life.
Am I really that angry at Caleb for not helping me change Selah's diaper after dinner?
No, I'm not. I don't mind changing Selah's diapers. I just miss being the only girl in Caleb's life, and I'm really just missing when it was just him and me. And to top that off, I feel bad for feeling that way. But to defer my uncomfortable feelings, I'll act upset about the diaper changing instead.
We try so hard to simply deflect anything hindering our "self-esteem," our feelings of assurance in some way.
If someone disagrees with a belief I have, it doesn't change what I believe.
It exposes my insecurity with my own abilities to uphold any convictions I have.
We're weak.
We need to get over it.
We so desperately need a Savior. We're a bunch of lost sheep, afraid of each other, and desperate to get along, but only for our own personal gain.
Ugh. Lord, help.
If someone agrees with me, it's only affirming to the inner-Shaina I keep on a throne in my insides.
When someone says, "Yes! Me too!" it's really like someone else approaching my throne to fan me and say, "You are perfect, and the center of the universe."
When someone disagrees, it's like someone left the steps of my "throne" and said, "Someone else should be there."
So, no I don't hate someone who disagrees with me. But I am afraid of them. So when these other people disagree with me and I am exposed to my own weakness and frailty, I'll decide not to open up anymore. You may not approach my throne.
I'll try to stay away from these people.
They'll feel like I hate them.
I don't. I just need Jesus.
We. We need Jesus.
If He is the one on our "thrones," we wouldn't have any more problems.
The musical chairs in my own heart is a sickening dance. How many times do I kick Jesus off His throne so I can try to sit there, and then be upset and push everyone away?
It's not my seat.
It doesn't take much.
I've been pondering why discrimination and hate seem to be the facade of disagreement. I am not speaking for all people, but for myself.
I am fearful of other people when I know we don't agree on every little thing.
If someone disagrees with me, I probably can't be friends with that person, right?
If I tell her I don't use a crib yet for my baby, will she talk about me when I'm not around? If I share my stance on gay marriage, will I lose that friend? Fear is a rock solid door we keep closed, and intend to let other people walk into. We must protect ourselves and our feelings. What we believe is law, and it must stay that way. If someone disagrees, our world will shatter, and we cannot function.
Apparently law is but a vapor we can't even keep in our own lungs. If other people's opinions hurt our "laws" so deeply, it's no wonder we get so defensive and feel so threatened by a differing opinion.
This entire situation, though, is reflecting sometime else.
A friend recently asked Caleb how we handle conflict in our marriage, and how we fight about stupid stuff. Caleb shared his answer with me this morning.
"Well, it's more about the problem behind the problem. There's a deeper reason why she's angry about something."
That's the truth of it. Good job, Caleb!
If I'm upset about Caleb forgetting to take out the trash, it's probably more that I'm frustrated about how I needed someone to watch Selah when I was running late for work earlier that day, and he couldn't help me. The trash has nothing to do with it.
There's a deeper reason why there's a reaction of some sort. The tip of the iceberg has been sighted, but the more dangerous side is underneath the surface, and must be sorted out to avoid further damage.
And so it is with differing opinions about something.
Am I really offended that someone started solids earlier than I did with my baby?
No. It's scaring me that maybe I'm not doing a good job being a mommy, and I already accidentally knocked my baby on the head when I was trying to brush my teeth a few hours ago, and I'm still struggling not to feel guilty.
It's not about solids. It's about a deeper fear.
Do I care that much about how many minutes another baby slept for at night?
No. I'm afraid that I'm doing something wrong, or being neglectful and failing at one of the most important things I'll ever do with my life.
Am I really that angry at Caleb for not helping me change Selah's diaper after dinner?
No, I'm not. I don't mind changing Selah's diapers. I just miss being the only girl in Caleb's life, and I'm really just missing when it was just him and me. And to top that off, I feel bad for feeling that way. But to defer my uncomfortable feelings, I'll act upset about the diaper changing instead.
We try so hard to simply deflect anything hindering our "self-esteem," our feelings of assurance in some way.
If someone disagrees with a belief I have, it doesn't change what I believe.
It exposes my insecurity with my own abilities to uphold any convictions I have.
We're weak.
We need to get over it.
We so desperately need a Savior. We're a bunch of lost sheep, afraid of each other, and desperate to get along, but only for our own personal gain.
Ugh. Lord, help.
If someone agrees with me, it's only affirming to the inner-Shaina I keep on a throne in my insides.
When someone says, "Yes! Me too!" it's really like someone else approaching my throne to fan me and say, "You are perfect, and the center of the universe."
When someone disagrees, it's like someone left the steps of my "throne" and said, "Someone else should be there."
So, no I don't hate someone who disagrees with me. But I am afraid of them. So when these other people disagree with me and I am exposed to my own weakness and frailty, I'll decide not to open up anymore. You may not approach my throne.
I'll try to stay away from these people.
They'll feel like I hate them.
I don't. I just need Jesus.
We. We need Jesus.
If He is the one on our "thrones," we wouldn't have any more problems.
The musical chairs in my own heart is a sickening dance. How many times do I kick Jesus off His throne so I can try to sit there, and then be upset and push everyone away?
It's not my seat.
Monday, July 6, 2015
I will
My 6 month old daughter is staring me down right now. I put her down for a nap just now. She starting moving not more than a few moment later. She lifted her head, and looked up at me and smiled and started kicking her chubby legs.
It's not nap time, Mama. It's play time.
It's just the thing with little ones. There is no schedule, even if I know there is one. There's no time limit, even if I say there is. There's no night time, and day time, and play time and nap time. It's just time for whatever the little one needs or wants.
In a way this is kind of beautiful. My child is not bound by the expectations that come with each passing moment the way that I am.
My baby girl has her basic needs, but other than that she's just happy to be alive, happy to see me, happy to kick me and pull my hair.
Of course it is entirely true that I've learned a great deal about myself since having this baby girl. My Selah Mei Arb. I've discovered more of myself while losing a great deal of myself, too. Who can keep up when most of my moments revolve around timing how long I might have to shave my legs if I just fed her?
It overwhelms me how much I can't control things. It overwhelms me how many opinions and "answers" people have when on the subject of raising and training my child. Should I let her cry it out at night? Is it ok to nurse to sleep? Should I put her on a strict schedule?
I heard someone say recently that caring for another person is sacrificial. It's not always convenient.
I felt comforted by this truth. Sure, different ways of caring for a baby can make things more convenient, but it might not always be what's best for my baby. I've felt challenged by this.
It's been a theme for me since being in labor with Selah.
I felt the Lord nudge me when I was growing desperate for my labor to press on.
"Will you endure this for me? Will you have this kind of long labor to bring my child into the world?"
That's just it. This baby is not mine. She's in my care.
So this morning when Selah had another blow out while I'm trying to make my breakfast...
"Shaina, will you take care of Selah right now, even though you just got ready to eat?"
Yes, Lord. I will.
"Will you wake up again to feed Selah, even though it hurts to open your eyes?"
Yes, Lord. I can do that.
"Will you endure the judgment of silly people who care for their babies in different ways?"
Ohhh. Yikes. But yes. Yes I can can endure that.
Sacrificial love for my child is an option I intend to accept.
Speaking of... she's not happy that I'm blogging. More another time, I suppose;)
It's not nap time, Mama. It's play time.
It's just the thing with little ones. There is no schedule, even if I know there is one. There's no time limit, even if I say there is. There's no night time, and day time, and play time and nap time. It's just time for whatever the little one needs or wants.
In a way this is kind of beautiful. My child is not bound by the expectations that come with each passing moment the way that I am.
My baby girl has her basic needs, but other than that she's just happy to be alive, happy to see me, happy to kick me and pull my hair.
Of course it is entirely true that I've learned a great deal about myself since having this baby girl. My Selah Mei Arb. I've discovered more of myself while losing a great deal of myself, too. Who can keep up when most of my moments revolve around timing how long I might have to shave my legs if I just fed her?
It overwhelms me how much I can't control things. It overwhelms me how many opinions and "answers" people have when on the subject of raising and training my child. Should I let her cry it out at night? Is it ok to nurse to sleep? Should I put her on a strict schedule?
I heard someone say recently that caring for another person is sacrificial. It's not always convenient.
I felt comforted by this truth. Sure, different ways of caring for a baby can make things more convenient, but it might not always be what's best for my baby. I've felt challenged by this.
It's been a theme for me since being in labor with Selah.
I felt the Lord nudge me when I was growing desperate for my labor to press on.
"Will you endure this for me? Will you have this kind of long labor to bring my child into the world?"
That's just it. This baby is not mine. She's in my care.
So this morning when Selah had another blow out while I'm trying to make my breakfast...
"Shaina, will you take care of Selah right now, even though you just got ready to eat?"
Yes, Lord. I will.
"Will you wake up again to feed Selah, even though it hurts to open your eyes?"
Yes, Lord. I can do that.
"Will you endure the judgment of silly people who care for their babies in different ways?"
Ohhh. Yikes. But yes. Yes I can can endure that.
Sacrificial love for my child is an option I intend to accept.
Speaking of... she's not happy that I'm blogging. More another time, I suppose;)
Sunday, July 5, 2015
Blog!
I have finally been able to log back into my blog! At long last, the blogging shall begin again, my friends. It shall begin again.
Monday, March 10, 2014
Dictator
I have recently finished a study on Galatians with one of my friends. I am stunned to see how little I actually knew about the gospel of Christ.
When I look at the "christian arguments" going around, I'm finding myself very sympathetic to the pain of confusion. I have been that author, angry and hurting. I've been that person who was so frustrated at how "Christian doctrines" can be so hurtful.
But this is where the problem is. Where there are Christians, there is sin.
We will never ever be on the other side of sin as long as we are on this Earth in our sinful nature.
We will always observe "rules" and "laws" with favor. We like things we can understand. Thinks we relate to.
The gospel is something so entirely other worldly, no wonder we try to make it practical in unbiblical ways.
The Law could not be fulfilled. If it could, we wouldn't have needed the blood of a spotless lamb, in order for the wrath of God to "pass over" us.
Yet even as all is right between us and God because of Jesus, we still like to validate ourselves with viewing "laws" as our contribution.
The Truth of the Bible is the Gospel plus NOTHING.
We have nothing to offer.
Our obedience to God should come naturally, but it doesn't change anything about how God is already satisfied with us.
When we think of purity... we think of a long to-do list of what we have to accomplish. We add a yoke that is so oppressive, so hideously unbearable. No wonder so many articles keep coming out about the damage of "purity." But this is not the damage of purity. It is the damage of adding sinful humans to an already perfect, spotless Gospel that is already completed.
When we make purity a "law" we uphold the idea of adding to what Christ has already done. We completely, and terribly miss the point.
We have nothing to offer Christ. If we did, we would be saved by works of righteousness, not saved by Grace through Faith. But we forget, that our righteousness is yet still as filthy rags. Even our best attempts at holiness fail miserably.
As Galatians 2:21 says, " I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness could be gained through the law, Christ died for nothing!"
Acknowledging our own helplessness is the first thing we have to swallow when we start to think about the narrow path a Christian walks. It's not up to us to achieve God's good gifts. It's about God.
But then we think about how we're still sinful. So now what... we're just doomed, then.
Except we're not! As Romans 6:1-2 says, "What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?"
And Romans 6:14, "For sin shall not be your master, because you are not under the law, but under grace."
This also means the consequences of sin is not our master either. Christ already obliged to this master, and He was victorious over it. This means we do not need to suffer the helplessness that sin inevitably brings. We can still find joy in the midst of our sinful hearts, in the assurance that God not only tolerates us, but loves us to death. Literally.
And Galatians 5:1 "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand form, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery."
Ok, a few things now.
1. These verses imply we have an option to continue sinning and living a life that is unworthy of the name Christ. Christians.
2. We were slaves to sin, because we were literally unable to be set free from the sinful nature we cannot escape. We had nothing to offer, that's why we needed Christ. Even after Christ, though, we still have nothing to offer. The only thing we gained is Christ. So we can't offer Christ to Himself... He IS Christ. We still have nothing to offer.
3. Now we are under grace. Like God viewing us through lenses of grace, rather than seeing us for who and what we are (nothing). He instead sees Christ. He instead sees the blood of a spotless Lamb and his wrath passes over us. Now we live without the unbearable burden to justify ourselves, which was completely impossible in every way, anyway. Our purpose of sin was to gain something. But now we have everything. Our reason to sin is now invalid and pointless.
4. As Galatians 5 implies, we CAN allow ourselves the burden of what life would be like without Jesus. We can live life with the pressures to do everything right, to do everything we need to do to validate ourselves and our worth and to show that we are worthy of Christ.
There are problems, here, friends.
We cannot nor ever will be able to validate ourselves and make ourselves worthy of Jesus.
When we can see this as truth, and allow the relief to set in, we can see how much easier it is to follow Christ.
We are free from the burden of legalism that insists we are still, in fact, slaves. If we mess up, we're done.
However, the Cross suggests otherwise. We mess up, we're free to stand back up and walk again because of Christ already taking the shame. Sin does not dictate what we do. If we sin, we're not slaves to Mr. Sin what would tell us, "Sit back down. You're not worthy." Instead we are slaves to the Lord who says, "Stand up. You are victorious because I am victorious."
We are free to enjoy the world and the good things God gives us, because we no longer need the world. We are pardoned.
Um, wow.
I'm sick of the "purity damaged me." Get it right. Sin damaged you. Now get back up, and stop letting sinful human nature dictate how you receive Truth.
When I look at the "christian arguments" going around, I'm finding myself very sympathetic to the pain of confusion. I have been that author, angry and hurting. I've been that person who was so frustrated at how "Christian doctrines" can be so hurtful.
But this is where the problem is. Where there are Christians, there is sin.
We will never ever be on the other side of sin as long as we are on this Earth in our sinful nature.
We will always observe "rules" and "laws" with favor. We like things we can understand. Thinks we relate to.
The gospel is something so entirely other worldly, no wonder we try to make it practical in unbiblical ways.
The Law could not be fulfilled. If it could, we wouldn't have needed the blood of a spotless lamb, in order for the wrath of God to "pass over" us.
Yet even as all is right between us and God because of Jesus, we still like to validate ourselves with viewing "laws" as our contribution.
The Truth of the Bible is the Gospel plus NOTHING.
We have nothing to offer.
Our obedience to God should come naturally, but it doesn't change anything about how God is already satisfied with us.
When we think of purity... we think of a long to-do list of what we have to accomplish. We add a yoke that is so oppressive, so hideously unbearable. No wonder so many articles keep coming out about the damage of "purity." But this is not the damage of purity. It is the damage of adding sinful humans to an already perfect, spotless Gospel that is already completed.
When we make purity a "law" we uphold the idea of adding to what Christ has already done. We completely, and terribly miss the point.
We have nothing to offer Christ. If we did, we would be saved by works of righteousness, not saved by Grace through Faith. But we forget, that our righteousness is yet still as filthy rags. Even our best attempts at holiness fail miserably.
As Galatians 2:21 says, " I do not set aside the grace of God, for if righteousness could be gained through the law, Christ died for nothing!"
Acknowledging our own helplessness is the first thing we have to swallow when we start to think about the narrow path a Christian walks. It's not up to us to achieve God's good gifts. It's about God.
But then we think about how we're still sinful. So now what... we're just doomed, then.
Except we're not! As Romans 6:1-2 says, "What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?"
And Romans 6:14, "For sin shall not be your master, because you are not under the law, but under grace."
This also means the consequences of sin is not our master either. Christ already obliged to this master, and He was victorious over it. This means we do not need to suffer the helplessness that sin inevitably brings. We can still find joy in the midst of our sinful hearts, in the assurance that God not only tolerates us, but loves us to death. Literally.
And Galatians 5:1 "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand form, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery."
Ok, a few things now.
1. These verses imply we have an option to continue sinning and living a life that is unworthy of the name Christ. Christians.
2. We were slaves to sin, because we were literally unable to be set free from the sinful nature we cannot escape. We had nothing to offer, that's why we needed Christ. Even after Christ, though, we still have nothing to offer. The only thing we gained is Christ. So we can't offer Christ to Himself... He IS Christ. We still have nothing to offer.
3. Now we are under grace. Like God viewing us through lenses of grace, rather than seeing us for who and what we are (nothing). He instead sees Christ. He instead sees the blood of a spotless Lamb and his wrath passes over us. Now we live without the unbearable burden to justify ourselves, which was completely impossible in every way, anyway. Our purpose of sin was to gain something. But now we have everything. Our reason to sin is now invalid and pointless.
4. As Galatians 5 implies, we CAN allow ourselves the burden of what life would be like without Jesus. We can live life with the pressures to do everything right, to do everything we need to do to validate ourselves and our worth and to show that we are worthy of Christ.
There are problems, here, friends.
We cannot nor ever will be able to validate ourselves and make ourselves worthy of Jesus.
When we can see this as truth, and allow the relief to set in, we can see how much easier it is to follow Christ.
We are free from the burden of legalism that insists we are still, in fact, slaves. If we mess up, we're done.
However, the Cross suggests otherwise. We mess up, we're free to stand back up and walk again because of Christ already taking the shame. Sin does not dictate what we do. If we sin, we're not slaves to Mr. Sin what would tell us, "Sit back down. You're not worthy." Instead we are slaves to the Lord who says, "Stand up. You are victorious because I am victorious."
We are free to enjoy the world and the good things God gives us, because we no longer need the world. We are pardoned.
Um, wow.
I'm sick of the "purity damaged me." Get it right. Sin damaged you. Now get back up, and stop letting sinful human nature dictate how you receive Truth.
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