the world: all in, all out, or what?

Balance is huge. Whole books are written about the benefits of work/home balance, eating balance, values balance, physical balance...but in the believer’s life, biblical balance is often the most uncomfortable place to be. Because it may not look like we think it should, or agree with our personal bent, opinions, and desires. And we see this in our interaction with the unbelieving world around us. Are we not most comfortable out of balance when it comes to the world? Either all-in or all-out?

I see the all-in swing a lot in my generation. We tend to be very comfortable life-styling just like the world. I think that many of us have genuine motives for this: we're seeking a platform for the Gospel. The problem is, our Bible says, “be not conformed to this world.” And that has to mean something. If we look, act, and think just like the unbelieving world around us, we’ve swung too far on the pendulum. We're out of balance biblically. 

Then there’s the ‘all out’ group on the opposite side. They build high walls around their lives to keep the world from seeping in. They limit any meaningful interaction with the world, finding creative ways to meet their needs without that interaction. And yet, the Bible says, “let your light so shine before men that they may see…” And if we avoid life in this world, that’s not going to happen. We’ve swung too far on the pendulum. We are out of balance biblically.

These are rudimentary observations and arguments. I understand that. But I think we all feel the pull to one side or the other. And Christ gives us the perfect example in Matthew 9 of what a balanced life should look like. 

Christ understood who the lost were.

Watch closely, and you’ll see Christ doesn’t really seek to make them comfortable around Him. Nor is He frantically pointing out what He has in common with them, or matching their lifestyle so they notice and take Him seriously. Why? Matthew tells us. Christ understands that the lost are sick. He’s using that word picture to describe their lack of belief in Him as the Messiah. And the sick have one desperate need: to be healed. Their condition trumps everything. Making myself look like a physically sick person does nothing to help them or my message. But offering a clear way to heal is the most powerful, loving act possible. 

Christ surrounds Himself with the lost.

He’s covered with the lost in the Gospel accounts. They’re dripping off of Him. In Matthew 9, the worst of them recline elbow to elbow with Him. Christ eats with them, walks with them, talks with them for hours on end...He goes into their homes. He helps them, their families, and friends in tangible ways. He goes out of His way to intersect their lives. And it doesn’t matter if it’s 5,000 or 1: He bursts on the scene of this world bent on seeking them out.

Christ surrounds Himself with the lost to change them.

He’s not just playing at it, or salving His conscience by it. He surrounds Himself with the lost because He’s after a fundamental change. To take them from sick to whole. From darkness to light. From bondage to freedom. From sure death to everlasting life. He’s there to reveal who He is, and to call them to belief in that. They must believe He’s the Physician, the Light, the Deliverer. The Life. The Way. The Truth. No man is able to come to the Father without placing his belief in that. Christ is after a change in the very fabric of our faith. 

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So what will this balance be like in our everyday life? Don’t you think it's going to look differently for you than for me sometimes? That thought excites me! But following these truths is never going to press me into the world’s mold. In fact, the more I seek to obey these truths, the more I will be molded into something quite spectacular: the form of my Savior Jesus Christ, who sought me out and saved me while I was yet dead in my sins and without hope in this world.

Beth

an unexpected diagnosis and an unusual truth

I’m not sure what I was expecting as I sat in front of the doctors. Something like  “eat more veggies and less Chik-fil-A.” Or “do more exercise and don’t sit cross-legged so much.”  But I was not prepared for words like “Thyroid markers. Obvious diagnosis. Autoimmune disease. No cure. Ongoing treatment. Close monitoring. No cheating. Life long…"

There was this initial rush of relief to have a name and reason for my symptoms, but then it hit me: I was sick. I needed care. My body needed help. It will for the rest of my life. That’s what the doctors were saying all slow, and gentle, and kind. And ya’ll? I hated that. Because you see, I’m not the weak one. I’m not the patient. I’m strong. Able to handle things alone. Never been gravely ill, never a broken bone or even a faint. I do healthy. I do fit. Ask my close friends. And I’m the helper. I’ve got a degree in that…

And now this diagnosis. Even though it’s not unique to me or life threatening (and won’t be as long as I address it.) Even though others are in the midst of much greater and graver health situations…medication now calls me home twice a day. Nutritional labels must be read and heeded. If I slip up, I pay for days. The doctor won’t let me cancel appointments. In other words, it’s always in front me now. There’s no avoiding it. I’m not as strong as I thought I was.  

And it’s made me think a lot about this man I know. Prolific writer. World-wide audience. Powerful relationship with God. The strongest Christian I know. But I often forget that he’s quite ill. Physically weak and unlovely because of it. His disease is apparently not curable. It’s ongoing. Maybe even life-long. It affects him every day. He can’t avoid it. It’s a constant reminder: he's not so strong. But he writes about this “thorn in the flesh” with words like glory, rejoice, and pleasure. Of course this man is the Apostle Paul writing to the believers at Corinth. The weakness he’s describing is obviously physical. The strength he’s describing is obviously spiritual. And he writes it three times in the passage: he glories in his infirmities. Then he tells us why.

And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for you: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

He rejoices because physical weakness activates the grace of God.

He rejoices because physical weakness provides the perfect setting for spiritual strength.

And when I read these words, my whole perspective changes. Because at the very root of my disgust over this disease (along with some serious pride) is a fear that it will hinder my spiritual life. That it will keep me from good works I want to do for God and those around me. That the constant care I have to take for my body now will overshadow my ability to deal with life spiritually. That this thing will become the only lens through which I see. 

But Paul is saying the more limited we are physically the more we may well soar spiritually. There's a sufficiency of power resting on us. And his own life bears that dynamic out. Consider his testimony and legacy. Physical limitations? Yes. Unlimited grace? No doubt.   

So I let it work its way deep inside me. This truth that in my infirmity, I may find God's power unrestrained and enough. This truth that when I am weak, I may well be very strong.

An unusual truth needed for an unexpected diagnosis.

Beth

and God will laugh

Dark. I would call them dark.

And with darkness comes uncertainty--this blanket of uncertainty outside me and this gnawing insecurity within me.

But it’s not quite dark enough to shroud the danger. To hide that the evil one is on the move. To catch a glimpse of his unmistakable hand behind the wicked dark of this present world. Darkness cannot conceal the echo of his roar, nor completely hide the tragic remains of his devouring. We see them every day; they surround us in heaps. We read them in print. We hear them from the radio. We see them on the morning news. And the evening news. And all the between.

These are dark times.

The wicked one is moving. And he’s still bent on destroying what God made in His own image. Bent on eclipsing the light with his dark.

And we who are the light (because we have believed that Christ is the one true Light) feel the pressing darkness most keenly. The plotting of wicked men. The dimming of righteousness on the public and private stage. The irrational social antagonism against Christianity. The slow but steady limiting of religious freedoms. The open persecution just a body of water away from us. The evil one works through the wicked to snuff out the right. It has always been this way.

And it’s dark. And we feel the imminent danger. As if a sword has been drawn and pointed. As if a bow has been aimed and bent. 

And we wonder, where is God in this?

Psalm 37 tells us exactly where God is.

He is at ease in His Heaven. Unworried. Not anxious. Not fretting. He’s not surprised. Not scrambling to regain the upper hand. He never lost it. We look up in this Psalm to find Him…laughing.

He’s laughing because He knows. He knows the moment the wicked act to destroy the righteous, they will be the ones destroyed. They seal their fate. It becomes like that of their ruler Satan. A broken power.  An eternal judgment.  Like a sword plunged into their own hearts. Like a serpent’s crushed head. They lose the moment they think they’ve won.

And the righteous? In that same moment, they are swept up. Held strong out of reach from the sword and bow. Protected. Preserved. If they stumble, it is not a headlong crash. It cannot be; God is holding their hand.

So God laughs at the dark. Because He knows it will not thwart His plan. This destruction of wickedness and preservation of righteousness will come to pass. Not a shadow of uncertainty falls from His Heaven. He is over all. And He is at ease.

So we find ourselves relaxing. In the midst of this getting-darker world, we cast off our irrational fears and gnawing insecurities. They become a silly notion as we hold them up to the bright light of solid truth.  The evil will not win. It has already lost. The wicked will not utterly destroy the righteous. Their fate is sealed. We may well laugh as our Creator is laughing. And like a warm dayspring we hold the truth within our hearts. We will be held up. The sword and bow will be broken.

Beth

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The wicked plots against the righteous and gnashes at him with his teeth.

The Lord laughs at him, for He sees his day is coming.

The wicked have drawn the sword and bent their bow to cast down the afflicted and the needy, to slay those who are upright in conduct.

Their sword will enter their own heart, and their bows will be broken.

Better is the little of the righteous than the abundance of many wicked.

For the arms of the wicked will be broken, but the LORD sustains the righteous.

…When (he) falls, he will not be hurled headlong, because the LORD is the ONE who holds his hand. (Ps. 37)

dear blog, I miss you. send chocolate.

And I want you to know that I’ve not forgotten how close we’d become! How you’ve allowed me to confess, and relate, and instruct, and remember, and record so much of life and God. You’ve given a platform to my hurt, and hope, and ‘I feel so strongly about this right now that if I don’t share it somehow the words will sear right through me…”

 Thank you.

But these last few weeks, you know?

What?! You DON’T know?

Oh yeah, I guess you wouldn’t. So let me tell ya’, they ain’t been so normal-like.

As in, God gave me a new house. I mean, something I’d been praying about for months. A move that had to happen, but I was still in the wait-until-Fall, be-anxious-then-pray-about-it phase.  And God up and hands it to me. It’s just a rental, but blog: I get to live alone in these here 800sq. ft. that look like me surrounded with all of my tiny, precious things. I would never think of telling you that at 33yrs. old, living alone is a big deal. SO the last few weeks have me all settling in, and wandering from room to room marveling at God’s generous hand while forgetting/remembering the list of 35 things that must be done in each room before I can label it unpacked.

But wait, there’s more!

As in, God gave me a new job.  Something I’d prayed for over a year. Prayed, “God, I want to feel settled here in my city, not just content to stick around. But I need these 40hrs. of my week to be fulfilling; something that will let me steward the skills you’ve given me. And God, I’ll just be honest, I think what I’d like the most is working in a small, young business here. Or a medical office. You know how I love the human body, and helping people find healing…” (seriously, folks. I prayed that.) SO God up and gave me a job in a small, young, medical office. Out of the blue, folks. Dropped it in my lap. And I would never tell you that I get goosebumps at some point every day watching people find relief from pain, and working with two of the coolest, most intelligent people I’ve ever met. SO, the last few weeks? Have me all overwhelmed with the newness of this position and finding out daily how God has fit me for it.

But wait, there’s more!

As in, God gave me a new ministry. I GET TO TEACH ADULTS, YO!!!!! (but don’t spread it around: I might get the big head.) Something I’d prayed about…well, let’s just say I’d prayed about it. And in these same here last few weeks, God hands me an adult SS class at my church. For a whole semester I get to study and create lessons for this class. And then TEACH them MYSELF. What kind of God does that for His children? Just peeks into the depths of their hearts, finds a hidden, strongly-burning desire there, and says, “Ya, that one. That’s the one I’m going to give them next.”  SO the last few weeks? Have me in study Heaven most every spare moment. And I would never tell you how much that means to me. It may show my inner nerd too clearly. 

And honestly, if there were fine print at the end of this post it would include even more that’s happened this last month. Like seeing another hymn text published in collaboration with a dear friend. Another friend handing me the most beautifully crafted, textile work of art I’ve ever seen (hint: it swishes).  Dusting off a personal computer that someone gave me last year, and finding out it’s exactly suited to blogging, text writing, lesson planning, and perhaps even empire building. These few weeks also included a bubbling hot, cheesy casserole delivered to my door at suppertime. (who even thinks to do that for a single lady? Apparently, my God does.) And God’s given me two hilarious cats that hang around outside my house, and one dog that hangs out at my feet at work. (Y’allllllllll……..) to an animal lover like me? Yep. I have no idea what's going to happen next. 

So what’s this all mean? Well, dear blog, I miss you. And I’m eager and bursting with ideas to get our relationship back up and running. But these last few weeks….you know? Well, now you know.

And all this amazing has me all riding high and the air’s a bit thin up here so I’m a bit unfocused, and squeaky-voiced, and I-may-burst-into-tears-at-any-moment.  Things will settle into a new normal. They always have. But until then, I’m just asking for your patience and understanding.

And if you’re so inclined, send chocolate.

Beth