I’m longing for home
Today more than most
The sun shines on my face
The tears stream noiselessly down my cheeks
One day
No tears, no anger, no frustrations
One day
I’ll be home
For now, I wait
Lonely, battered, bruised
I wait for healing
I wait for love
I wait for peace
I will be safe
I will be home
one day
I have, what some people call, a contentious disposition. I rarely ever take anything at face value. I’m always skeptical of everything, and I actively search for the other side in almost every issue. Except of course, the proper way to put the toilet paper on the holder. There can be no discussion on this point. It is the most black and white issue in all humanity. In all other cases there are two sides to every issue.
This can make me a bit argumentative. Just ask my husband. I love a good discussion/argument. As long as it doesn’t get nasty. I don’t like to engage in angry disputes. I like rigorous discussion but not nasty confrontation.
But there is always a risk when you have a disposition like mine that you can be quick to defend your point, not because it matters but because you like to win. I have learned, through experience to temper this desire. The biggest teacher is learning just how many ways you can be wrong, even when you are sure you are right. If you haven’t been in this position then, well… maybe you aren’t looking hard enough.
Learning to humble myself and listen and be slow to react, has been the work of a lifetime. Maybe by the time I get to my eighties I’ll have figured it out.
James 1: 19-20 My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this:
Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry,
because human anger does not produce the righteousness that God desires.
Fear. It’s black and dark. It can swallow you whole. Once it gets a grip of your heart it will squeeze and squish the hope from your life.
What can we do?
We fight! We kick and scream and push it back.
We read the Word. We allow God to build in us the resistance we need to fend it off.
We put on the armor of God. We go into battle against fear.
In the morning when we wake up we decide; today God is bigger than my fear.
Psalm 34: 4 I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.
I was driving around today trying to match a piece of kitchen tile. My travels took me east. I found myself driving down a road I used to travel often. I now have little reason to drive that direction. The road was so familiar and the route so pleasant in its memories that I felt sad.
I felt the loss of the past. The loss of happier times. Time and distance remove much of the bluster and fuss that comes with daily life. We look at the past as someone looking through a telescope. It’s way over there, confined to the view of the lens. It’s beautiful and free of close up grit of life. The past is far enough away that you can’t see the dust lingering on the lamp shade.
I felt sad. I forgot the stress of the time and remember the joy. Like the Israelite people who moaned to Moses, “They said to Moses, ‘Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die? What have you done to us by bringing us out of Egypt?'” (Exodus 14: 11)
They all knew that their lives were bad in Egypt, but their current situation seemed so absent of hope that the present felt worse. In the same way I longed for the past as I drove over the smooth wide road. But we can’t go back. Even if we could, it wouldn’t be what we remember. So we carry on.
We move forward putting our trust in God and having faith that he is leading us to the promised land.
I was listening to an essay by CS Lewis while preparing supper. The essay was about prayer, “petitionary prayers,” as he calls them. (I think, forgive me I can’t find it again, but I thought it was called “The Efficacy of Prayer”). I have thought a lot about prayer over the last year and a half. Why it seemed some of our prayers were answered, while others were not. Why God seemed to be helping us in some ways, but yet not in others. It’s a topic I find interesting on a personal level.
The narrator then read something that I had never considered before. Once I heard it, I was shocked I had never thought of the idea. It seemed so dreadfully obvious. In fact, it struck me so hard that I asked my husband if he had ever considered the idea before either. He had not.
CS Lewis posits that even Jesus did not have his prayer answered in Gethsemane. Wow! There. That is it. I had never considered that before. I focused more on the “Thy will be done” than the “Let this cup pass from me.” God couldn’t answer Christ’s prayer the way he wanted, the fate of mankind hung on the plan. But Christ asked it. Not only did he ask it, but he then upon the cross said, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” (Matthew 27: 46)
How I could have gone this far in my life without really thinking about this? Last summer, when my fervent prayers were not answered, and I was angry and bitter I felt forsaken, unloved. Christ felt that too.
This realization helped put everything into perspective for me. Unanswered prayers are not a sign of God not approving of me, or not loving me. After all, you can not claim that God did not love Christ or approve of Him. If God can refuse to answer the prayer of His own beloved son, then my more insignificant prayers may go unanswered also.
Christ’s prayers of finding another way forward, were denied in order bridge the gap between mankind and God. You can’t claim that about my prayers. They do not carry the same significance. But like Christ there may be more going on than what I see.
Unlike Christ, I am not privy to the plan. He knew what His role in salvation was, and He knew the stakes. I can’t know the mind of God or the greater plan for my own life and the lives of those around me.
This was a sobering realization. Certainly a new way of framing my frustrations with unanswered prayers.
Matthew 26: 38-39 Then he said to them, “My soul is overwhelmed with
sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.”
Going a little farther, he fell with his face to the ground and prayed,
“My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me.
Yet not as I will, but as you will.”
I couldn’t get my little dog to leave the off-leash park yesterday. He was enjoying himself and showed no interest in leaving. He stayed at least 20 feet from me, confident of his ability to out run me. He is normally not so difficult, but it was a beautiful day and I sympathized with his desire to stay. I was however, unwilling to let him dictate my day.
Eventually he couldn’t resist attention from a stranger. While he was getting his head scratched I asked the man to grab him by the collar, then I attached the leash. I might have to trick him, but I will have my way. Silly dog!
While I won’t let a dog control my life, I will let him teach me a lesson. Enjoy the sun while it’s here. Soak up the moments of happiness. God’s world is beautiful enjoy it when you can.
Sometimes I get frustrated with others. Sometimes it’s hard to not put my own concerns first. It can be hard to give and give and give.
But then I read Roman 15 and like a splash of cold water it tells me to ‘snap out of it.’ Christ didn’t get frustrated with my sin. Christ didn’t decide to call me selfish and teach me to figure it out on my own. Christ didn’t walk down a different street to avoid talking to me. Nope.
Christ died for me, for my sin, for my weakness. He took on my failings as his own and bore them. I owe a debt I can never pay. Therefor, I should gain strength from him. His sacrifice should help me swallow my own pride and bear the weaknesses and sorrows of those around me. I can look to him for strength and endurance in the face of frustration.
I needed this reminder this morning.
Romans 15: 1-4 We who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves. Each of us should please our neighbors for their good,
to build them up. For even Christ did not please himself but, as it is written:
“The insults of those who insult you have fallen on me.” For everything that was written in the past was written to teach us, so that through the endurance taught in the Scriptures and the encouragement they provide we might have hope.
I saw a meme today. That’s a weird thing to say, isn’t it? In the world before the seismic shift that is our new technological age, I would have never said, “I saw a meme.” If I did say it, you wouldn’t know what I was talking about. But here we are, we find ourselves in a new world. This meme simply said, “Fear says ‘What if,’ Faith says ‘Even if.'”
I love when a complex idea can be encapsulated in a single sentence. This sentence does indeed do this. Bad things will happen to everyone. We can’t judge our place with God by how trouble free our life is. Rather, we need to look for Him in those times of trial and be confident in the relationship we develop during difficulties. The strength we build from our faith helps us with the ups and downs in life.
This is one of my favourite old hymns. I used to sing it in the car to the kids when they were little.
Psalm 121 I lift up my eyes to the mountains— where does my help come from?
My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth.
I went for a walk with my husband and my dog. We drove over to the off leash park and walked along the river. The dog ran and sniffed and explored, while we walked along holding hands. Occasionally I had to loosen my husband’s grip. He is strong and sometimes he holds my hand too tight. He always apologizes and we laugh about it.
The path way is lined with people walking their dogs. Lots of smiles and hellos and “what breed is your dog?” conversations. The answer is a mutt, in case you were wondering. My mind drifts back a couple years. A young boy, a recent émigré, would come talk to Willis and me after school. He more than once asked if my dog is a mongrel. It’s such an uncommon word for Canada. This lovely little boy wanted to be a vet one day, I wonder idly if he still does.
The sun is almost hot enough to make me take my hoodie off. Spring has arrived in Calgary. My spirits are lifted. God’s sun is shining on me. This park with all the happy dog-people has been a respite from the craziness of the world we live in. I am never sorry I chose to go (well except that one time when my idiot dog started a fight with a young border collie).
Fear leaves me when I rest in God’s presence. When I slow down and let the sun touch my skin I forget to be afraid of the world around me.
Malachi 4: 2 But for you who revere my name, the sun of righteousness will rise with healing in its rays. And you will go out and frolic like well-fed calves.
My husband and I have been… what is the best way to say it? We’ve been living under a cloud for years now. Whether financial struggles, serious health issues, worldwide collapse of everything normal… you get it, it’s been tough.
It can be easy to feel discouraged. I was reading about depression the other day, I think it was something Tim Pippus (a great preacher – look him up) posted about depression. Women tend to exhibit feelings of depression as sadness, while with men it tends to be anger. We need to be aware of this. We need to learn not to react to each other based on the outward emotion, but try to see past the bevahiour and find the root of the problem.
Even doing this can be frustrating. Sometimes you know the cause but can do nothing to change it. Life is hard! Not just for us, but for everybody. We all have difficult times and struggles.
We are admonished to be thankful in all circumstances. It isn’t a choice, we should just do it, even when it’s tough to do. I have found when I do this, even when I am least thankful, that I soon come across blessings I had not contemplated before. This is the key to seeing God’s hand in our life. We will never see our blessings if we forget to look for them.
Sometimes it’s like finding a needle in a haystack, other times it’s a cup overflowing with goodness. Either way we must seek and see God.
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks
in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.
Roberta Writes 