Life is Messy, but God Redeems All Things

 Life is messy, isn’t it? We’re born in a sterile world, greeted with radiant smiles of delight, and immediately given everything we need for life and comfort, if we’re blessed with loving parents. Our own children experience this same miraculous beginning. But we discover within hours that though we’re awestruck by the miracle of their birth, it's going to be a complicated adventure. I’ll never forget the first dirty diaper our older daughter produced and the look on my face when I saw it! As the years passed, laughter was intermingled with tears, fresh smocked dresses often gave way to mud stained pants from hours of play outside. Clean windows soon displayed handprint artwork and face smudges. Fast forward to the teen years when one minute’s excitement almost instantly fades to emotional outbursts of disappointment over some overlapping experience. We discover, not just in the beginning, but all along the journey, that life is both beautiful and messy.

I remember the days leading up the birth of both daughters and all the promises I made to God that I’d do everything I could to protect, provide for and love them, teaching them to adore him with all their hearts. I dove in with great anticipation and a sense of assurance that my parenting would far exceed anything I could imagine -- not because I thought I was invincible, but because someone greater was fueling this desire and longing in my heart. Over the years, I saw God do the miraculous as he took my prayers, transformed them by his power, and developed character, love and hope in our children. It wasn’t easy or clean like I’d imagined; it was complicated and messy, but God was at work nonetheless.

Being a mom has honestly been the most fulfilling and rewarding experience of my life. I’ve said it many times and mean it that if I could go back and parent the girls ten more times I’d joyfully do it -- provided I could turn back the clock and have the same energy I had in the beginning. With each time, I’d likely grow wiser and do a better job in many areas, but as many do overs as I was given I’d never be able to escape the reality that life is messy and complicated and I’ll never be perfect. Living in a redeemed yet broken world means that there will always be interlocking joy and sorrow, pleasure and pain, gain and loss, met and unmet needs, life and death. Like two sides of a coin, they remain together.
 

As the girls have grown up and are entering a new phase of life, they’ve opened up and shared with me areas where they’ve had extreme disappointment and even anger because of things I’ve done or not done. I’m honored that they feel the freedom to speak the truth in love to me so that we can grow together and move past the pain. In many ways I’ve needed to ask forgiveness for botched parenting, sin patterns that I ignored or was blind to that negatively impacted them. However, my initial response was defensive anger and shock that they’d consider finding fault with what I worked so hard to do well.  As the anger diminished, I was able to face the truth of what they were saying, which freed me to look back at those snapshots over the years and admit that I was wrong, that I didn’t in many cases do what was wise or right, that even though I did a lot of good, it was mixed with some really bad decisions and actions that hurt my children. This insight gave way to grief, repentance (I pray), and a renewed sense of God’s grace and forgiveness as well as his promise it’s never too late to change.
 

After the worst storm, the sun shines brighter and everything has a fresh new sparkle. That’s what it felt like when these truths, painful ones, were spoken in love. First came the clouds, then the torrential rain. But the story didn’t, doesn’t, stop there. Joy and hope are shining brighter in my heart as I accept the reality that I’ll blow it many more times over the next twenty or so years. I’ll do a lot of things wonderfully well as a mom, but I’ll also miss the mark and bring sorrow into their lives when my intention is the opposite. My hope is no longer in my parenting perfection, but in God’s promise that as I cling to him, walk in in his Spirit and trust him and his promises, he’ll make everything, even my extreme blunders, beautiful in his time.

 Though I didn’t mention it in the post, both girls and my husband have also shed tears over the wrong choices and attitudes they’ve had in the past and asked my forgiveness. God is taking us all through a season of cleansing, healing and forgiveness for which we’re all thankful. We haven’t arrived by any means, but God’s Spirit is at work, giving us grace to speak the truth in love and forgive deeply from the heart.

“Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.” Eph 4:15

"I Love the Lord Cause He Heard My Voice"

     I’ve been told by some of my family and even my closest friends that I have an “ugly cry.” It’s one where I scrunch up my whole face, turn down the corners of my lips, open my mouth and bawl. I’d never looked at myself in the mirror before when I cried, so I was clueless about what they were talking about. When I finally got the courage to test their theory, I quickly and even shockingly admitted they were right -- my crying was downright ugly!
     That said, I have a Father who daily, hourly “hears my prayers and sees my tears” (2 Kings 20:5). He listens, cares deeply, and works on my behalf at all times. I have a God who loves me no matter what I look like even when I’m crying, regardless of how much I’ve failed or how weak I am. His love is more solid than any mountain and can't be moved or shaken by anything I or anyone else thinks, does or fails to do (Is 54:10). I have the awesome privilege of going to him at any time of the day with fears, requests and even childish demands, with the certainly that he’s always there -- fully present and engaged, rejoicing over me, delighting over my life and finding great joy even in my tears. He knows that while my weeping may last for a night, his joy will come in the morning as I bring my pain to him and trust him to help and bring healing (Ps 30:5).
     I love the Lord because he hears my voice, because he first loved me (1 Jn 4:19), because he guarantees that nothing can come between this bond of love (Rom 8:38-39), and because he promises that his great, amazing, unstoppable love is also eternal -- no matter what (Jer 31:3).

"I love the Lord, for he heard my voice; he heard my cry for mercy. Because he turned his ear to me, I will call on him as long as I live." (Ps 116:1)

Christ Our Treasure

     I don’t know if I’ve ever been happier than when we landed in the Dallas airport on July 18^th and the guy in customs asked if we were US citizens. After we nodded yes, he said with a perfect Texas drawl, “Welcome home.” I thought about kissing the ground, but knew it would cause a scene and Mark and I were both too tired for that. Instead, I quietly took my place in the line designated for citizens with a thankful heart that this was my home and I was welcome back even after being gone for almost three years.
     Living in Korea changed me more than I realized. In fact, it wasn’t until coming back to the states that I could see how God masterfully used all the struggles of living abroad to mold me into a different person. When I left America, I felt like I was losing everything….my house, friends, hometown, the comforts of living in a place that was familiar to me. But as the days spilled into weeks this summer, I’ve realized that God wanted me to leave these things behind so that I could gain a new perspective on life and experience more fully the freedom he bought for me in Christ.
     Like most everyone else in the world I long for security so that I don’t have to fear what tomorrow brings. It’s so easy to convince myself that the obsession to control and possess people and things is a necessary solution for this need for security. I reason that because every woman wants a nice home it’s okay if I make that a priority. Or because money is essential for life, it’s normal that I’m constantly focused on how much I have. But instead of the steady focus bringing comfort and helping me conquer fear it enslaves me to the things I pursue, causing me to lose passion and perspective about why I’m actually on this earth. I used to think my purpose in life was to marry a nice man, have beautiful, intelligent children, live a comfortable life and amass as much “stuff” as I could so that I could live out my final days on earth in comfort and ease. This seemed to be the way everyone else was doing life, even in the church, so I categorized it as normal and set out to make it my goal. But God had a different plan.
     When we moved to Korea, we decided to leave everything behind except for two suitcases each which we carefully packed. We arrived at our apartment to find it sparsely furnished with simple beds, a kitchen table and a couch -- no pictures, rugs, bric-a-brac, curtains. Just a bare apartment that was about one third the size of our previous home. No yard, no trees, no grass.  We did what most people would do and went out to try to find “stuff” to put in our apartment to make it home. We learned where to shop to buy “stuff” to wear and “stuff” to eat and “stuff” to decorate with. But no matter what we put there, we couldn’t deny the fact that it wasn’t what we were used to.
     There have been times when I’m cooking in our small kitchen at a counter that seems designed for midgets  or looking out over the patchwork gardens and cement houses where people are barely making ends meet that I want to shake myself, hop on a plane and run for home. But then I remember what it is that God has been slowly teaching me these past three years – that as much as I love America it’s not going to make me happy. No matter how much it comforts me to be there, he’s placed a longing in my heart for something more. The Spirit witnesses with my spirit most every day that God has a plan for my life and purposes for me that transcend the walls of a home or earthly comforts. He wants me to learn to live by faith and depend on him in an ever increasing way. Sometimes he accomplishes this through simple things, other times he takes me to a far off place where I have nothing but him and he once again reminds me about my ultimate goal – to live and move and have my being in him.
     I’m learning to say what the apostle Paul said in Romans 14:8, “If I live, I live for Christ. If I die, I die for Christ. Whether I live or whether I die, I live or die for Christ.” It often helps when I’m feeling sorry for myself or worrying about tomorrow to take it a step further and say. “If I have a home or don’t, have money or am broke, am healthy or sick, have a good or a bad job, lose all I hold dear or am blessed with much, I belong to Christ and he alone is my treasure.”
     With this focus, my thinking is realigned with God’s perspective. I’m reminded that I’ve died with Christ and am now raised up with him to live a new life in a new way with new goals and purposes (Col 3:1-11). I don’t have to strive for and fret over what’s going to happen to me because he’s guaranteed  through the blood of Christ that he’ll never leave me or forsake me (Matt 6:31).  He promises that if I seek him first he’ll give me everything I need (Matt 6:33). If I make him my treasure, I’ll be filled with joy unspeakable, a heart at peace and a purpose driven life that far exceeds anything I can strive after or achieve on my own (Ps 1:3). 
     When I do finally die one day, I don’t want to be remembered as someone who clung desperately to this life. Instead I want to be remembered as someone who really believed the Gospel and lived like it was the greatest reality in the world. I want to be able to say to God (by his grace and the power of his spirit) over and over again and mean it, “I’ll go where you want me to go, do what you want me to do, be who you want me to be because you’re my Lord and my God. You’re my treasure.”

Randy Alcorn on the Treasure Principle. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RDmS3sDFouk