In my quest for maintaining equal in my head, I often lose my heart in the mental math of things that happen. It is hard for me to function when things are unequal in my perception, which is why I try to balance the scale... which is why I struggle to push my heart into a disadvantage - to where I'm willingly in pain for the sake of other(s). I'm finding that God is shoving me out of my attempts to balance things.
I feel grief keenly - it just doesn't leave me - and I'm actively trying to embrace grief as a rather incessant reality and find Jesus and joy in it. It is hard to field the notion that your sorrows won't be resolved this side of the cross - that there are irrevocable actions here on earth. I practice reassurance with my students and with people who are prone to panic that "it is fixable" - that is a mostly-true statement in the reality where and when I live; most things are fixable. But we all wade into the deep end sometimes and lose precious things to the sea. I have lost some precious things and figuring out how to live with that without really losing myself to the sadness is work that my heart is navigating constantly.
I truly believe that God has given me insight and discernment through this in pushing through hardship - knowing what hardship really means. Consequently, I am facing what it really means to love when life becomes adversarial - when we become adversarial people. What does it really mean to bear with one another? What does it really mean to love your enemy? Or someone who became your enemy? What does it mean to forgive really? What does it mean to forgive selfishness? What does it mean to forgive deception? Dishonesty? Disloyalty? Adultery? Theft? Ridicule? Rejection? Pride? Anger?
I mean, if I believe this stuff that Jesus says - that I am to obey what He tells me to do, love others more than myself - I have massive amounts of self to die to... it means I knowingly allow myself to endure pain for the chief end of demonstrating I believe what I say - that I am to live the Gospel out for others so they might know it too. Others suffer in prisons and forgive, I probably should have the fortitude of the Holy Spirit to endure those things that don't threaten my physical being. That's not to say that it's easy, but I live in a land where leaving any commitment, a promise, a marriage, a bond is more convenient than ever. Removing yourself from any circumstance in America, in my American culture, is more a matter of mind than, well, matter. It's a hard decision sure, but most often, we have the means to make it happen and the means to minimize our pain in doing so.
But is this giving up? I ask myself this constantly. If a situation is terribly abusive, likely not. But that's not what I mean. Surely parents know well what "not giving up" is. They know that you don't give up on your kids - you stop enabling, you stop coddling, but you don't ever give up - that love is too on fire, too strong to give up on your child. Isn't that what God the Father lives? He is the longest suffering of any of us. If I have any goodness, God's own goodness is unfathomably greater than mine. If I have love for someone, God's love is immeasurably deeper than mine. What does that say of Christ then? Of what He did for His brothers and sisters, His earthly father, His earthly mother? And if I am called to be like Him? As He forgives each who left him to bear the cross to the point of crucifixion without solace? As He, who has done no wrong, dying for those who will glory in wrongdoing until God continually sanctifies them?
Surely then, the chasm between me and those who have sinned against me is a might smaller than the chasm that once stood between me and God. Greater were my offenses against Holy God than those who did offend me from where I stood. Yet He continually teaches me kindly, not with the punishment I am surely due (for certainly, we have ALL felt anger against those whom we have born, helped, nurtured, when they turn their weapons of sin on us). In light of what I know, I have immense pressure to let my love overlook sin, even unacknowledged sin, and be kind and loving in any rebuke I undertake to give. I'm hard-pressed to caption any betrayal or lie perpetrated against me as worse than what I am guilty of toward the Lord.
I'm being reminded over and over again, through tears, through ache, to call upon the Lord to do what I cannot and be whom He always is: be The Better Friend. Do I really love my friends? Do I really love my family? Do I really love those who position themselves as enemies against me and mine? Do I really mean it? It is the worst struggle - the lack of reciprocation - that my brain mathematically contends with on the human level. But within the context of God's scale to mine, there will never be reciprocation for the Lord; He is my beginning and my end. My debt can only grow because God is the source of any good I do. He must be both Author and Perfecter, I do nothing of my own good-making.
So lately, all of the impossible that I feel led to:
Ask for forgiveness though my offense may not be "greater" so that my pride continues to die; be the first to forgive; be fast to forgive; be patient if my forgiveness isn't asked (as God does His work and patiently waits for us); be the mature believer, reserving anger for appropriate times and seeing God's work as paced differently in the lives of others, even though I may be wounded in the waiting; trust God to work in those whom He has called at the speed which pleases Him; be the mature believer who does not take offense deeply into heart but patiently waits in kindness to offer grace and speak truth in love; give thanks for all the good I still have in this life; always be willing to hear my offender if they reach out as a check on my hardness of heart and self-righteous pride; be quick to listen; resist the evil one who thrives on suspicion, lies, deception, and pride; fight for peace and unity without compromising truth nor conviction; acknowledge the Lord in all my ways; allow others to lean into and lean on me; be a minister of reconciliation.
As Christ must increase, I must decrease. My grief may never be truly acknowledged, past, present, future, but still He bids me: be the better friend. Though it cost me much and I do it with tears, may I obey with joy.
I feel grief keenly - it just doesn't leave me - and I'm actively trying to embrace grief as a rather incessant reality and find Jesus and joy in it. It is hard to field the notion that your sorrows won't be resolved this side of the cross - that there are irrevocable actions here on earth. I practice reassurance with my students and with people who are prone to panic that "it is fixable" - that is a mostly-true statement in the reality where and when I live; most things are fixable. But we all wade into the deep end sometimes and lose precious things to the sea. I have lost some precious things and figuring out how to live with that without really losing myself to the sadness is work that my heart is navigating constantly.
I truly believe that God has given me insight and discernment through this in pushing through hardship - knowing what hardship really means. Consequently, I am facing what it really means to love when life becomes adversarial - when we become adversarial people. What does it really mean to bear with one another? What does it really mean to love your enemy? Or someone who became your enemy? What does it mean to forgive really? What does it mean to forgive selfishness? What does it mean to forgive deception? Dishonesty? Disloyalty? Adultery? Theft? Ridicule? Rejection? Pride? Anger?
I mean, if I believe this stuff that Jesus says - that I am to obey what He tells me to do, love others more than myself - I have massive amounts of self to die to... it means I knowingly allow myself to endure pain for the chief end of demonstrating I believe what I say - that I am to live the Gospel out for others so they might know it too. Others suffer in prisons and forgive, I probably should have the fortitude of the Holy Spirit to endure those things that don't threaten my physical being. That's not to say that it's easy, but I live in a land where leaving any commitment, a promise, a marriage, a bond is more convenient than ever. Removing yourself from any circumstance in America, in my American culture, is more a matter of mind than, well, matter. It's a hard decision sure, but most often, we have the means to make it happen and the means to minimize our pain in doing so.
But is this giving up? I ask myself this constantly. If a situation is terribly abusive, likely not. But that's not what I mean. Surely parents know well what "not giving up" is. They know that you don't give up on your kids - you stop enabling, you stop coddling, but you don't ever give up - that love is too on fire, too strong to give up on your child. Isn't that what God the Father lives? He is the longest suffering of any of us. If I have any goodness, God's own goodness is unfathomably greater than mine. If I have love for someone, God's love is immeasurably deeper than mine. What does that say of Christ then? Of what He did for His brothers and sisters, His earthly father, His earthly mother? And if I am called to be like Him? As He forgives each who left him to bear the cross to the point of crucifixion without solace? As He, who has done no wrong, dying for those who will glory in wrongdoing until God continually sanctifies them?
Surely then, the chasm between me and those who have sinned against me is a might smaller than the chasm that once stood between me and God. Greater were my offenses against Holy God than those who did offend me from where I stood. Yet He continually teaches me kindly, not with the punishment I am surely due (for certainly, we have ALL felt anger against those whom we have born, helped, nurtured, when they turn their weapons of sin on us). In light of what I know, I have immense pressure to let my love overlook sin, even unacknowledged sin, and be kind and loving in any rebuke I undertake to give. I'm hard-pressed to caption any betrayal or lie perpetrated against me as worse than what I am guilty of toward the Lord.
I'm being reminded over and over again, through tears, through ache, to call upon the Lord to do what I cannot and be whom He always is: be The Better Friend. Do I really love my friends? Do I really love my family? Do I really love those who position themselves as enemies against me and mine? Do I really mean it? It is the worst struggle - the lack of reciprocation - that my brain mathematically contends with on the human level. But within the context of God's scale to mine, there will never be reciprocation for the Lord; He is my beginning and my end. My debt can only grow because God is the source of any good I do. He must be both Author and Perfecter, I do nothing of my own good-making.
So lately, all of the impossible that I feel led to:
Ask for forgiveness though my offense may not be "greater" so that my pride continues to die; be the first to forgive; be fast to forgive; be patient if my forgiveness isn't asked (as God does His work and patiently waits for us); be the mature believer, reserving anger for appropriate times and seeing God's work as paced differently in the lives of others, even though I may be wounded in the waiting; trust God to work in those whom He has called at the speed which pleases Him; be the mature believer who does not take offense deeply into heart but patiently waits in kindness to offer grace and speak truth in love; give thanks for all the good I still have in this life; always be willing to hear my offender if they reach out as a check on my hardness of heart and self-righteous pride; be quick to listen; resist the evil one who thrives on suspicion, lies, deception, and pride; fight for peace and unity without compromising truth nor conviction; acknowledge the Lord in all my ways; allow others to lean into and lean on me; be a minister of reconciliation.
As Christ must increase, I must decrease. My grief may never be truly acknowledged, past, present, future, but still He bids me: be the better friend. Though it cost me much and I do it with tears, may I obey with joy.
