Category Archives: prayer

Bible thumping: how we see beyond the surface

Posted on by June 25, 2024

There’s a kiddo on the deck standing with one hand on the door, and one hand holding a rag. It’s been a rough few days for that little girl; she’s supposed to be working off a consequence but instead she’s just standing there. You can’t force her to move faster (or at all), but sometimes you can remind her what she’s supposed to be doing. And sometimes it helps.

But sometimes it doesn’t.

bible thumping: how we see beyond the surface

She’s not really a little girl, I know. She’s sixteen. But she’s also three. And sometimes seven, and sometimes anywhere in between.

Thanks to our chickens we have a new compost bin arrangement, but she couldn’t figure out how to work it. And in spite of being told not to, she dumped the compost on a small garden bed instead, destroying half the veggies and a couple sunflowers I’ve been growing for two months.

She doesn’t always remember things she’s been told, and sometimes she does but chooses not to do them anyway. Problem solving and critical thinking are really hard for her, and rare occurrences.

As her mom, one of my biggest challenges has been learning to correct her in love, and lead her toward maturity and growth when she has no inclination to go there.

Can we blame her? We often want to do the easy thing ourselves, without the excuse of brain trauma. But look around; we’re reaping the consequences of a culture obsessed with ease, prioritizing rest over righteousness at every opportunity.

Last week on social media I shared a talk by a prominent Bible scholar and translator on women in leadership, and based on the responses of those who have only given the Bible a surface reading, you would have thought I committed the highest form of blasphemy. I can’t begin to tell you the amount of hate and accusations that poured in from complete strangers who have no idea who I am, what our family has taken on, or the everyday situations we deal with (which admittedly are probably a mystery to many of you who are new here because I don’t talk about them as often lately). It was a sight to behold from people who claim to be Christians, who claim to be passionate about the Bible, but are in fact extremely selective on how they actually study or practice what it says.

What is that Scripture? Oh, yes: “They will know we are Christians by our scathing insults, accusations, fragile egos, and self-righteous condescension.” Ain’t nobody got hate and meanness like a so-called Christian’s hate and meanness.

I am giving you a new commandment, that
you love one another; just as I have loved you, that you also love
one another. By this all people will know that you are My disciples:
if you have love for one another.

– John 13:34-35

It’s just easier to not be challenged, to not learn something new, to not think critically about what we believe and what the Bible says and whether or not those two things are actually in alignment. But Jesus is continually leading us forward in love and maturity, even when we have no inclination to go there.

But you denied the Holy and Righteous
One, and asked for a murderer to be granted to you, and you killed
the Author of life, whom God raised from the dead. To this we are
witnesses.

– Acts 3:14-15

Do we just want to be right? Or do we want to be righteous?

Pharisees have been bringing death and destruction for a long time; people who miss the forest for the trees and offer to call fire down from heaven have been rebuked by the Lord for their misplaced zeal from the very beginning.

And now, brothers, I know that you acted
in ignorance, as did also your rulers.

– Acts 3:17

You can’t force people to think harder or to love better (or at all), but sometimes you can remind them what they’re supposed to be doing. (And sometimes it helps. But sometimes it doesn’t.)

So we go back to the Word. Not just a surface reading that takes in the obvious, but a daily, deeper study that looks at all the things – the ones that don’t make sense, the ones that seem to contradict, the ones that are inconsistent with the rest of the Word when taken out of context. We take the time to ask Him what they mean, and we take the time to listen.

If you feel threatened by the basics of studying the Bible and learning something you didn’t understand before, why are you reading it at all? Do we go to God’s word only to be patted on the back? Do we only go to church to be spoon-fed what we already know?

For though by this time you ought to be
teachers, you need someone to teach you again the basic principles of
the oracles of God. You need milk, not solid food, for everyone who
lives on milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, since he is
a child. But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their
powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish
good from evil.

— Hebrews 5:12-14

Friends, with all love, you shouldn’t be reading my stuff (or any stuff) if you just want to be told what you already know. What a waste of time that would be. And if you don’t think women should be speaking, teaching, or sharing about Jesus, I’m not sure what you’re doing here in the first place.

If someone touts unbiblical principles that conflict with God’s word and character, yes, you should call them out on it. But if what you are calling out is just a deeply held belief that is contradicted throughout Jesus’ life and all of scripture, you should look more closely at the context of that.

If it causes insecurities to rile up within you, spewing hateful, holier-than-thou things at others, you should look more closely at that, too.

If any issue is so sacred to you that looking at the Bible’s original language, context, and culture actually frightens or angers you because you cannot consider it from any other angle than the one you have held on to, then that issue is a sacred cow and it probably needs to go to the grill. If it causes you to say things to perfect strangers online that would make an atheist smirk, that cow needs put out to pasture until you can examine it without raising your blood pressure and displaying spiritual brain trauma.

Do we just want to be right, or do we want to be righteous?

(One reader pointed out that those who are afraid of a little research, deep thinking, and contrasting perspectives are exactly the kind of people who, yes, shouldn’t be teaching or leading. This is why we can’t have nice things, Timothy.)

If you believe context and culture don’t matter and everything in scripture should be interpreted exactly at face value, you should probably avoid Job, certain Psalms, Ecclesiastes, several sections of the prophets, parts of the New Testament, and most public social settings.

(Oh…and definitely beware of Song of Solomon. SO DANGEROUS.)

Because context and language matter.

Truth matters. Sometimes you need to pay attention to see it, though. And yes, if you’ve read the Bible, you’ve seen women speaking, leading, and teaching in it with approval, in spite of a few verses that seemingly oppose it on the surface.

But wait, should we have to work to understand the Bible? Well, what does it say? Here are just a couple of examples:

It is the glory of God to conceal things, but the glory of kings is to search things out.

— Proverbs 25:2

In that same hour he rejoiced in the Holy
Spirit and said, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth,
that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and
revealed them to little children; yes, Father, for such was your
gracious will.”

— Luke 10:21

Yes, we should read and expect God to speak to us. And also yes, we should take the time to dig deeper when we notice things that don’t make sense, or that we don’t understand, or that are confusing.

Because if we claim to already understand everything we believe, we probably made it up — and we need to consider who we’re bowing down to.

But if you don’t think language, culture, and context matters, fine. No problem at all.

Just know that you ought to greet everyone in church on Sunday (and, well, every day, since it doesn’t specify) with a holy kiss.

No, no, no, it doesn’t say handshake, side hug, or fist bump — it says a holy kiss.

Have fun with that.

xo

just getting started: the overwhelm that equips us

Posted on by May 26, 2022

The first few weeks were fine: Cute little birds in their cute little boxes in our slightly overcrowded bathroom. Little peeping noises from the chicks, beautiful cooing noises from the quail. We could watch them for hours.

just getting started: the overwhelm that equips us

But then the chick dust started.

And, oh my friends, do you know what chick dust is? It’s a combination of things, but mostly it’s dander from the feathers that are growing in from about two to six weeks of age. If you have a history of asthma, pneumonia, bronchitis, or other respiratory issues, it’s no bueno to be around.

The feathers are important, of course. They’re what help them endure the elements, and they’re what make them beautiful. But the dirty, ugly-cute season has to be endured in the process of growing them.

I started to notice the burning in my throat and chest, reminiscent of pneumonia. It felt like I was suffocating. So I started taking supplements for lung support and we cleaned the brooder multiple times a day.

But the dust took its toll. So I was banned from the bathroom, and as soon as it was warm enough outside, the chicks were banned from the house.

(No, it has nothing to do with bird flu. If you believe what the news is telling you about bird flu, I have some oceanfront property in northern Wasilla I’d love to sell you.)

Now the birds are seven and eight weeks old: Their feathers are in, the dust has settled, and they’ve upgraded to the coop and the yard, all beautifully fluffy as they peck at dandelions and bugs. The quail have even been laying eggs for almost two weeks now, and it feels like we made it.

It was a long, crazy month, though. Learning how to care for birds while having several other irons in the fire was a level of overwhelm I haven’t felt since…well, maybe since having a newborn. In this case, we had 38 chickie newborns, a kid graduating, several work and writing projects, grades and progress reports to turn in for six kids, garden seedlings everywhere, and the normal societal unrest that has become so common in the last few years that it’s stopped surprising us.

It’s not special; you have all your own stuff you’re dealing with, too. We’re all just living normal life, but doing it in an era that is kicking up dust everywhere.

He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, “Lord, do you wash my feet?” Jesus answered him, “What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand.” Peter said to him, “You shall never wash my feet.” Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no share with me.” 

– John 13: 6-8

We don’t understand why all these things are going on around us, but Jesus is getting our feet wet.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had conversations with friends in recent weeks about how the events of the past few years have taken their toll, and we are feeling the effects of it. We are overwhelmed. Feeling scattered. Fighting burnout. Wrestling anxiety again that we conquered years ago. Dealing with a few health issues from all the stress.

Simon Peter said to him, “Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!”Jesus said to him, “The one who has bathed does not need to wash, except for his feet, but is completely clean. 

– John 13:9-10

Don’t make it weird, Peter. I’m not drowning you, I’m equipping you.

One friend mentioned how prayer feels like more of a struggle lately. The words don’t come as easily, and since they don’t, she has to force words, which feels less genuine. But she’s learning the discipline of mature, fighting prayer. The truth is, my friend is doing great with her prayer life. She’s growing and persisting in it in new ways.

If you feel like you’re not doing well in your prayer life because it’s not as easy as it was, you’ve probably actually moved to the next level and are feeling the stretching of growth.

Our success can’t be gauged by how comfortable we are with something; usually our success is indicated by our willingness to continue doing the right thing even when it’s hard and uncomfortable.

We’re not going under; we’re graduating. We feel the dust burning in our lungs because it’s time for an upgrade, and we need to take new territory.

We watched the fruition of it this week when our daughter graduated. She’s our second grad but the first to walk, the one who was born after a horrible miscarriage and brought redemption even before she breathed outside the womb. She’s beautiful and gifted and brilliant, and just so you know, she’s getting a shotgun as soon as she turns eighteen. (If you believe what the news is telling you about gun violence, I also have some lakefront property in our chicken coop you really ought to see.)

The grades are in, the paperwork is done. But she isn’t finished; she’s just equipped for the next level.

And I have been feeling this upgrade, too. Last week when I was at the desk, trying to settle into a few hours of work, I felt like a deer in the headlights, unable to figure out what to tackle first. I was stunned by the amount of needs and directions I had to go in.

It was too much; I turned the page and started making a list of irons in the fire, and got almost halfway down the page before I stopped and put the pencil down.

Lord, what do I do with all this? I asked. Where do I start?

The Holy Spirit started asking questions back:

Are any of these temporary?

Yes. There’s a temporary partnership, a smallish project to finish, a bigger task to be done, and Iree’s graduation. Those won’t be on the list forever.

Are any of these negotiable, or not necessary?

Um…no, not really.

Are they all bringing life and bearing fruit, even if you can’t see the fruit yet?

I think so. There’s one I might be able to eliminate but it’s too soon to tell.

Start at the top. Do the thing closest to you and work your way down.

So I made the phone calls, returned the texts, wrote the articles. Filled out the paperwork. Graduated the girl.

The list has started to shrink; it doesn’t quite hit the middle of the page anymore. And I know it will always flux and change – things will be added to it as others are crossed off.

But you and I, we are growing, and upgrading, and effectively engaging a culture that is reaping the consequences of simply going with the flow, refusing to do the hard but necessary things. We’re persisting in doing the right thing even when it’s not comfortable.

We’re not finished; we’re just getting ready for the next level.

I’m not suffocating you, Love, He tells us. I’m equipping you. No feathers, no flight.

move: getting what we want by seeing the way He does

Posted on by February 14, 2022

“Grab. Move here, go.”

“This foot’s gonna kick.”

“Step through, bring it down here.”

Thump, thump, slam. “HAH!”

Yeah, I have no idea what any of it means, either. Sorry.

move: getting what we want by seeing the way He does

Usually I write from my desk – more on that in a second – but lately I get a lot of writing done during my kids’ martial arts class. At first, the random, sudden shouts of “HAH!” startled me, but now I’m good. If you’ve been reading here throughout the last year, many of the posts and newsletters were drafted from this ugly chair I’m sitting in now while listening to the instructions, thumps, and yells of the class.

The instructor was delayed last week, so the highest-ranking student took charge and challenged one of my kids to lead the class in warmups. No big deal, just tell everyone to do jumping jacks or whatever.

But it required a shift in stance: standing in front of peers instead of next to them. And there was immediate resistance and balking. I tried to repress a smile, and failed.

I know this kid. I know both sides of the challenge and resistance. And after class, I went up to that brown belt student and thanked him for pushing my kid to do hard things.

I resist these things all the time though, too. Dumb things. For example: Because of how the light falls from all the windows in the room, I have wanted to rearrange my office for ages. But I hate rearranging furniture and won’t do it unless it’s absolutely necessary (like when you add a woodstove). Once I have things the way I like them, I like them to stay that way. Don’t we all?

Only, I didn’t really like the way it was. I was settling for what it was out of fear of hating a different arrangement worse.

But we finally switched things around and I love it. Love, love, love it. Should’ve done it years ago. The space fits better, the light falls easier, and I love being in there.

So when Kav’s cast came off a couple weeks ago…well, I have a confession to make. I know this sounds terrible, but I was kind of hoping it would stay on for a while longer.

Isn’t that awful? Because of course I want him well. Of course I want his arm healed enough to convince the doctor he no longer needs it. I want Kav to run and play without its cumbersome weight, and to wear long sleeved shirts again, and to take baths without having to cover it with a plastic bag. I want him to be cast-free.

But I also want him to be safe.

I want him to be protected from reinjury.  

I don’t want any of us to go through the trauma again.

Moms get this sudden rush of adrenaline whenever our kids hurt themselves. If they fall, we also often feel pain; if I see one of our kids trip on the stairs and hit their knees, I feel a twinge in my knees, too.

Ever since Kav’s accident, that flood comes to me over the smallest stumble (and he’s three, so he’s constantly running, crashing into things, tumbling, doing all the things that little guys do). I have to remind myself that he’s okay. He’s not broken. We don’t have to go back to the hospital. We don’t have to endure that all over again.

When I noticed this anxiety shortly after the accident and confessed it to a friend, she said I may need to come to grips with surrendering ourselves to the Lord in a whole new way, to trust Him with our safety. We’ve had 21 years of parenting kids without breaking anything, and in one afternoon that changed. Suddenly, I saw us differently: Breakable. Vulnerable. Fragile. Exposed. Costly.

So I had sorta hoped his cast would stay on for another couple of weeks to allay some of that. I found myself trusting the cast to protect him from reinjuring himself; I was so grateful it was there to absorb the brunt of his activity.

But do I trust God to protect him? Yes. I think so.

Mostly.

I want to, at least.

It is better to take refuge in the Lord
    than to trust in man.
It is better to take refuge in the Lord
    than to trust in princes.

– Psalm 118:8-9

This all comes at the same time our oldest daughter is getting her license and driving in the snow and looking at new jobs and graduating and talking (so much talking) about moving out to live on her own.

I used to be fine with it. Kids have moved out of their parents’ homes since the beginning of time, and this isn’t the first kid of ours who will have done so. But, hey – most of the time when kids grow up and move out on their own, it’s not when the globe is on the brink of the Apocalypse. (Although she is one of the kids in that martial arts class, so there’s that.)

In so many ways it has been a stretching season of the Lord calling us to see differently: Stand here, in front. Turn around, look over here. Don’t see what your feelings are telling you, see what I’m telling you.

“Look for the valleys, the green places, and fly through them. There will always be a way through.”
– C.S. Lewis, The Magician’s Nephew

I’ve been going back again and again to this verse:

He is not afraid of bad news;

    his heart is firm, trusting in the Lord.

His heart is steady; he will not be afraid,

    until he looks in triumph on his adversaries.

– Psalm 112:7-8

But I have been afraid of bad news. Trauma has a way of doing that: This shoe dropping, and the next, and the next. We have to identify the fear and stop listening to it.

This is serious. Do not fear is a command, not a suggestion, for good reason. Fear doesn’t care for permission; it just wants access. The counterfeit picture of what we’re afraid of may be the key that permits that access.

But agreeing with God, picturing the victory and trusting Him for what He has promised, strips the enemy of power he will wrest from us otherwise. Trusting God is the fatal, final blow that puts fear out of our misery.

– Oh My Soul

We see exposure and vulnerability in new endeavors and stretching seasons, but God sees strength and fearlessness. We’d rather not deal with more changes, but God is bringing alignment for healing and victory. I’m tired of having my safe places peered into, and exercising muscles that have been resting and healing. But God sees that I’m ready to do hard things again.

“When things go wrong, you’ll find they usually go on getting worse for some time; but when things once start going right they often go on getting better and better.”
– C.S. Lewis, The Magician’s Nephew

Kav is running and playing. He has full movement and extension of his arm and fingers. He falls sometimes, but he gets up every time and keeps going. I’m noticing the rush of adrenaline diminish.

I still don’t usually like standing in front, feeling vulnerable while people look at me. But we often resist change when it’s exactly what we need, and we will love the results if we surrender to them.

He’s saying, Hey Love, I’m peeling back layers of shelter because you’re ready to expand and advance.

Your kingdom come,
your will be done,
    on earth as it is in heaven.

– Matthew 6:10

It requires a shift in stance so we can see what He does. Because He’s the Instructor, saying, Go. Step through. Bring it down here.