Ignorant Historian

Thanks to Jen for basically writing the last couple of paragraphs of this post. It’s humbling (and ironic) to not even know how to finish my thoughts on this subject.

I’m a woman of control.

Or at least that’s what I want.

My problem (okay, one of them) is that I think I know best.  About everything.  Not only do I think I know what’s best for those around me, I think I know what’s best for me, too.  Always have, just ask my mom.

The thing is, I don’t.  I might be blessed with worldly smarts, but I’m still sorely lacking in true wisdom.  As we’ve been walking through Solomon’s life in my kindergarten Sunday school class, we’ve been talking a lot about wisdom.  I think the best way to learn a concept is to have to try to explain it to a 5-year-old…there are so many concepts I can’t quite get across to them (glory, the Trinity).  If you ask them, I hope they can tell you that we’ve talked about how wisdom is knowing what is right and good.

The older I get (and in theory, the wiser I get), the more I realize that I’m like a 3 on a scale of 100 of possible human wisdom.  At most.

Last week I realized that I’m okay with my singleness as long as I in my earthly “wisdom” can decipher out a way out.  And as far as singleness goes, the way I want out is a man, a plan, and a ring by spring…or at least by next spring.

Hmm, that doesn’t sound like contentment to me.

Just shows me that I still demand control of my own life, my own future.  That I prefer my plans to whatever God has in store for me, as foolish as that is.  I know that God knows what’s best for me (He knows me better than myself!), but somehow I can’t get that to truly stick in my daydreaming head.

It’s times like this that I have to remind myself that I have been fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14) and that the very hairs on my head are numbered (Matthew 10:30)–gray or not–and that before one day of my life came to pass, God ordained each of them (Psalm 139:16).  How foolish I am to think that I would know more than Him!  How can I know myself better than the one who knit me in my mother’s womb (v. 13)?

Moment by moment, I must make the choice to trust Him in His infinite wisdom.  I give Him the reigns one night, only to rip them back from him minutes, or at most, hours later.  It is only when I trust Him that I can truly find contentment.

God, help me remember that.

Photo by Drunken Monkey

While this review is talking about this book specifically, the points I make aren’t directed at Al Lacy exclusively.  Most of these issues are common faults found with the bulk of “Christian” fiction.

I received a review copy of Faithful Heart from Multnomah.  I thought it sounded like an interesting book, set in the western US in the 1870s.  There’s basically two storylines following two sisters: one who is making a trek west via wagon train and the other who is struggling being married to a man dealing with violent mental issues related to his Civil War service.

Al Lacy’s not a bad writer necessarily, but this book is a great example of Christian fiction gone bad.   While Lacy does try to tackle a real-life issue (mental illness) and I commend him for that, he goes about it all wrong.

First, the answer given for the mental problem is seeking professional help (as pointed out by each and every character).  Laying aside how strange this seems in the 1870s setting and the horrors that were mental health asylums in that day, this is just poor theology.  Perhaps you, my reader, wouldn’t agree with that, but I believe that the Bible is all sufficient for our needs.  Though a psychiatrist may offer valuable help, that’s not the first place to go.

Secondly, this book is chock full with church-y language.  The conversations between characters come off as untrue to real life, like a play written by an amateur (me, for instance). Like most Christians who’ve been around the church a lot I’m guilty of this as well, but it does make me cringe.  There is a way to write a story from a biblical worldview without making it sound like it was written in a Sunday School.  The God of the Bible is so much more than that.

My last major issue with this book is that everything is tied up in a neat bow.  While that might be the way we would like things, real life doesn’t work that way and we fool ourselves when we place hope that it will.  Mental illness is messy.  Even more so, our sin nature is (which we rarely see in this book aside from the “bad” guys).

To be fair, this was originally published 25 years ago.  Perhaps Lacy wouldn’t have written the book this way if he wrote it today.  I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt on this matter.

Of all the people we’re introduced to in the Bible, the one I most relate to is Hannah.  In my recent struggles for contentment in God, I turned once again to the familiar passage of 1 Samuel 1-2.

Hannah is a woman who knew unmet longings.  Just like my desire for a husband is good and natural, her desire for a child is good and natural.  She wanted to be a mother: something that as a woman, God designed her to do.

One thing that always stands out to me about this passage is Hannah’s emotions are spelled out for us.  Hannah calls her childless state an “affliction” (v. 11).  It wouldn’t be hard to imagine what a woman longing for a child might be feeling, but the Bible makes it clear:

“…her rival used to provoke her grievously to irritate her…” (v. 6, ESV)

“…Hannah wept and would not eat.” (v. 7)

Hannah’s husband: “Why is your heart sad?” ( v. 8 )

“I am a woman troubled in spirit.” (v. 15)

“…my great anxiety and vexation.” (v. 16)

Clearly, having a son was not a passing fancy for Hannah, any more than my desire for a husband is a fleeting thought in my life.  In fact, I just noticed for the first time that in verse 7 it gives us a bit of time reference for the events: “So it went on year by year.”  Year after year!  While we don’t know how many years, I’m sure it was quite a few or it wouldn’t state it like that.  During this time, not only did Hannah remain childless, she was being provoked by her fertile counterpart, likely daily coming into contact with her and her growing family.  Her childlessness is being rubbed in her face (something that I’m thankful not to have experienced).

The thing is, though Hannah was missing something that she rightfully desired, she was also blessed.  She had a husband who loved her and was well cared for (let’s leave out the bigamy as a topic for another day).  Compared to many who suffered in Israel, she had it made.  I can say the same for myself: I have been overwhelming blessed in almost every way.  Except for a companion in life, what more do I lack?  But like Hannah, what I lack seems to eclipse all the many blessings.

What I love so much about this little vignette is Hannah’s response to her unmet desire.  She offered herself to the Lord, emotions and all.  Though her desires were a mix of sinful and godly (as mine are…I love that the Bible doesn’t gloss over it’s hero’s–and heroine’s–sins), she brought them before God.  My favorite verse in this passage is verse 10:

“She was deeply distressed and prayed to the LORD and wept bitterly.”

Now this I can definitely relate to.  The good, the bad, and the ugly, all wrapped up together in one sticky mess.  She took her unmet longings and all the emotions tied up with them to the One who could fix them–and her.

And the Lord answered her prayers.  I love the language the Bible uses to describe the conception of Samuel: “…and the LORD remembered her” (v. 19).  When (Lord willing!) I’m pregnant with my first child, I think that’s how I’d tell my husband, “The Lord remembered me.”

Of course, this was likely not the first time that she prayed to God.  No doubt, this was a familiar scene for Hannah, offering up her desire for a child again.  But in His timing, God answered.  This gives me hope–not a promise, but hope–that God will answer my prayers for a husband.

And until that time, I will wait, continually giving up my desires to the One who can fulfill them and use them to mold me.

I’m tired of going to bed alone.

I don’t mean that in a sexual sense, just that singleness seems synonymous with loneliness the most at bedtime.  I can fill the rest of my life with fulfilling relationships, but this is one area where that just won’t do.

The other night was one of those nights where I just can’t get myself to go to bed because it’s hard to remove all the distractions I use to keep from remembering I’m alone.  These nights aren’t that frequent, but when they happen, they’re overwhelming.

But Saturday I found hope in this:  These nights are numbered.  Of course, I’d like to think that they’re numbered because I’ll soon have a partner in life, but even if that’s not true (or never will be true), they are still numbered as my days on this earth are thankfully numbered.  One day, God will save me from this world (via His returning or my death) and there will be no more lonely nights, no more tears.

“And He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away.” – Revelation 21:4, NASU

If you are a follower of Christ, you have the same hope.  Whatever misery you know or trial you are facing, these days are numbered.  That’s not the only hope…we also know that God will give us the grace to handle whatever situation we find ourselves in.  But sometimes, knowing that this too shall pass is a greater comfort.

If you’re not a believer in Jesus Christ, you are right to be hopeless.  I don’t mean that there isn’t any hope–God has/is offering you the same hope in Jesus Christ–but if you refuse this hope, life really is hopeless.

These nights will continue to be hard, but I’ll take heart in remembering that they are numbered.

Photo by Gord McKenna

I thank God He’s given me food on my table in abundance.

I thank God that He’s given me family and friends who love me and show me more grace than I deserve.

I thank God for giving us quick travel that I may visit my family who’s over 1,000 miles away on this day.

I thank God for giving me not only a well-paying job in these times, but a job that I like.

I thank God for allowing me to be part of a church who, though not perfect, is seeking to grow together towards christlikeness.

Most of all, I thank God for giving His Son to save a wretch like me.

So happy Thanksgiving, and remember to thank God for the many blessings he’s given you…no matter how many or how few, they’re more than we deserve.

Photos by CarbonNYC, Julie McLeod,  aka Kath, me, Phillie Casablanca, and DrGBB

My journal entry, dated October 30, 2009

Last night in the midst of one of my typical adventure dreams (in this one I was a part of a group being held hostage) there was a tender moment (can a fake moment be tender?) that sticks with me.

In the midst of the hostage situation, I had my head on a man’s shoulder as we played with each other’s hands.  It was something so small, but that’s the desire of my heart…to simply be with someone, even if it’s in the midst of a crazy situation (though preferably not that crazy situation).

I long for that day when there’ll be someone there, all the while knowing that day may never come.  Yet I hope in God, trusting His judgment on the matter to be better than my own, asking Him to remove selfish ambitions from my heart.  Not that it’s not right and good for me to desire a husband–it is–but it’s not right for me to desire it more than I desire God Himself, more than I desire to follow Him.

So as I continue in this adventurous time in my life, I lean on Him, trusting Him to be enough.

“For the LORD God is a sun and shield;
The LORD gives grace and glory;
No good thing does He withhold from those who walk uprightly.
O LORD of hosts,
How blessed is the man who trusts in You.”

- Psalm 84:11-12

Photo by photosan0

As a Protestant, Evangelical believer, I’ve been taught all my life (and rightly so) that the Bible is the basis of truth we can know.

Yet, it seems like some are too quick to call something biblical if it includes a verse or two.

Remember, even Satan quoted scripture:

“Then the devil took [Jesus] into the holy city and had Him stand on the pinnacle of the temple, and said to Him, “If You are the Son of God, throw Yourself down; for it is written, ‘He will command His angels concerning you’; and ‘on their hands they will bear you up, so that You will not strike Your foot against a stone.’ ” – Matthew 4:5-6

That is why we must take everything we hear and everything we read and compare it to the Scriptures…which means we must know them.

Photo by Accent on Eclectic

“If what a person wants is his life, he tends to be quiet about wanting anything else.  Once the life begins to seem secure, one feels the freedom to complain.”  - Ann Patchett, Bel Canto, p. 56

“Good arguments will not convince anyone who is not open to being convinced.” – Frank Turek, Correct, Not Politically Correct, p. 8

“I suppose it’s terribly sexist of me assuming that all of the terrorists were male. It’s a modern world, after all. One should suppose a girl can grow up to be a terrorist just as easily as a boy.” – Messner, character in Bel Canto by Ann Patchett, p. 147

“Many have become immune to Christianity by contracting a mild and unbiblical form of it.” – Randy Alcorn, If God is Good, p. 35

“Americans have a bad habit of thinking like Americans.” – Roxanne Coss, character in Bel Canto by Ann Patchett, p. 222

“Anyone who observed us would conclude the purpose of all academic discussion was to provide the grounds for becoming further entrenched in our original positions.” – Richard Russo, Straight Man, p. 201

“You’re young, you’re Black, and you’re on trial. What else do [the jurors] need to know?” – Kathy O’Brien, character in Monster by Walter Dean Myers

“In our reckless pursuit of self-gratification we impose upon ourselves gnawing emptiness rather than the joy and contentment that comes in loving God and others.” Randy Alcorn, If God is Good, p. 64

“If the Bible tells us what life is and how to live it, then biblical literacy isn’t an option. I need it. We all do.” – Rachel Starr Thompson, “What We Don’t Know”

A few days ago it dawned on me:

“serve” is a despised word.  In fact, you’d think it was a naughty word for how people treat it.

Stay-at-home moms are looked down upon because they’ve willingly forsaken all other jobs in order to take up the job of serving their family full-time.  Janitors and waiters are also looked down upon because they serve others for a living.  No one wants to be the one asked to provide coffee for their boss, because that’s beneath them.  Few take the time to clean-up after others, and if they do, it’s even less likely they’d do it cheerfully.

For all our modern thinking, our attitude today isn’t much different than our historical  predecessors: servants are the lower class.

Yet, there is something special about serving or being served.  Most of us had parents who worked hard to give us what we needed and more comforts and pleasures than we deserved.  We create holidays and special events to honor those who serve us in the military or protect and serve us here at home.  We take notice when a person of leadership takes time to fulfill some menial task for us, viewing it rightly as an act of love.

No matter how great we become in any earthly standard, God calls us to serve others.  Serving isn’t a dirty word.  It’s an act of love.

“For you were called to freedom, brethren; only do not turn your freedom into an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another.” – Galatians 5:13

Photo by danagraves

I’m a big fan of romantic comedies, but if I watch another movie where hedonism (the search for pleasure) is the final answer, I might scream.

I already talked about how sex isn’t everything.  Well, on a related point, neither is pleasure.  The adage, “Do what makes you happy” might well define our culture, but that doesn’t make it right or true.

I think for any of us who have tried to follow this (and I think most have at one point or another) find that the pleasures that we seek never fully satisfy, are never enough.  Just like the alcoholic wants one more drink, and Rockefeller, one of the richest men of his time, says that enough money is “just a little bit more,” we want “just a little bit more” of whatever we’ve determined will make us happy.  If it’s someone, we might smother them.  If it’s something, we might poison ourselves or drown ourselves in debt to get it.

Instead of pursuing my own pleasures (and I’m more than willing to admit that I do that all too often), I’d rather seek to obey the greatest commandments:

” ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’  This is the great and foremost commandment.  The second is like it, ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ ” – Matthew 22:37-39

And perhaps I’ll stick to 24.

Photo by mandj98