Suffering in Obedience

Good grief, what a week. I'm experiencing the refining process of facing God's will, even though it goes against the way I would've chosen. Good thing One of us knows what He's doing. The other one has felt beaten up and battle-worn, but I'm being counted as one who can speak His Word with authority.

Here's a clip no one enjoys putting into reality: 

What is joy, really? Is it the warm, fuzzy feeling we'd refer to as "well-being"? I contend that, if we're on the narrow road of God's Way, "joy" doesn't feel like we want it to. In fact, for me right now, it's pretty darn harrowing. I am trusting the God of the universe Who tells me that these tears I sow will reap joy (Psalm 126:5). It's hard to live out being refined when many who call themselves Christians in America won't endure a minute's discomfort to truly grow in Christ.

The irony is that this actually is true "well-being." No wonder the narrow road is sparse. Tears, cotton-brain, and torment from Satan just aren't selling points for getting folks to sign up for this race. I'm willing to throw it out there and be deemed a "Debbie Downer" by those who don't get it. I believe more of us are suffering the trials of obedience than we realize; we just don't talk about it. What are you afraid of? God's finally brought me to a turning point in my life when I'm afraid not to be a bold voice for Him. There's courage on this road, too.

Chew on this quote from Dietrich Bonhoeffer, and dare to follow your own way:

"...within the fellowship of Christ's suffering, suffering is overcome by suffering, and becomes the way to communion with God." (From The Cost of Discipleship).

There's no two ways about it: either I obey, or I don't. My obedience looks like my trusting Him simply because He says so; "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen" (Hebrews 11:1). A wise friend reminded me a few days ago that others might not realize the cost of our obedience. It is so hard to spend oneself and endure distress for things unseen, when anything else seems "better," and no one has any idea of the cost. I make this statement as one going through it now, still in the trial. 

I have got to keep my eyes focused on Christ, not on myself or my circumstance. He exhibited the ultimate obedience, perfect and unblemished, at a cost that spilled blood to cover the cost of my own suffering. How can I not hear him and do His bidding? Pastor Tim Keller tells a story of a woman in his congregation who, upon realizing the sacrifice that Christ gave for her, said, "If He gave his life for me, there's nothing He can't ask of me." I can't worry about the fact that I might not like it...Father knows best, and He sees past, present, and future. I love the Casting Crowns song that says, "To You the future is a memory." 

"Oh, the depth of the riches both of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are His judgments and His ways past finding out!" (Note that this was authored by a guy who was in chains, the same one who had sought out Christians to kill them: Romans 11:33, our brother Paul.)

If you've read this blog for any length of time, you know I'm against a fluffy, "Just let go and let God!" attitude. Pull up those rugs that are lumpy from all the issues swept under them! Pollyanna Christianity is not the way Jesus operated. His life was hard; he suffered greatly, being ridiculed for walking the narrow path. Even his own family members didn't get Him. He had no reason to leave the perfection of Heaven but to give us a model of how to share in His sufferings, and to cover all this mess with His healing blood. To "feather His hair" (as Matt Chandler says) with our platitudes and pseudo-reality is to stand in the crowd as one of His mockers. 

The Lord has to be my portion always (Lamentations 3:24). "Through the Lord's mercies we are not consumed" (Lam. 3:22). He has been preparing me for this through other difficulties, and although I don't enjoy it, it's a privilege to let Him lead. We all know Solomon's list in Ecclesiastes, plagiarized by the Byrds in their '60's song, "Turn, Turn, Turn"....there truly is "...a time to weep, and a time to laugh...a time of war, and a time of peace" (3:4, 8). 

I read a Martin Luther quote the other day that blew me away:

"Discipleship is not limited to what you can comprehend--it must transcend all comprehension. Plunge into the deep waters beyond your own comprehension...Bewilderment is the true comprehension. Not to know where you are going is true knowledge...Not the work which you choose, not the suffering you devise, but the road which is clean contrary to all that your choose or contrive or desire--that is the road you must take."

I surround myself with godly people. They hear my confessions and heart without judgment, not straying from the Word and reminding me of God's hard truth. I ask God to let me walk in light, not darkness, that I would know in my heart who He says I am, not who the devil wants me to think I am. I seek the testimonies of other sufferers, like the Apostle Paul, Bonhoeffer, Spurgeon, and Luther. I ask the Holy Spirit to help me hear Him, to allow me to focus on this moment and not the future. If I'm brain-dead at night, I allow "The Andy Griffith Show" to minister to me. Sometimes even I have to put my books on hold. 

I humbly ask for your prayers. God is always working, but seldom do I know what He's doing. It's not my job to figure it out, because He is unsearchable, and "His ways past finding out," remember? It's not my job to make things happen, or manipulate my own thinking. He is lovingly and painfully giving me crowns to lay at His feet. 

Instead of pulling myself up and making every effort to fake "good courage," I'm learning to say, "Lord, help me wait on You. Enable me to be of good courage. Please strengthen my heart." I like this way better; it hurts in the short term, but isn't as painful in the long run as disobedience from my own attempts. Notice the marks of my tears on this page as I created it. 

Because there is joy during trials, here are some photos I've enjoyed this week:

Here is my Dad circa 1970. When his number came up, he was obedient to the call to Vietnam. He spent over a year of his life there, and wouldn't be who he is today had he not been through that difficult time. Here he is with a pup that died shortly after this photo was taken. Dad says it was discovered that the dog had rabies, so all the guys who had handled him had to go through a series of shots. My Dad is my favorite vet, and I thanked him and many others on Nov. 11 for their sacrifices. Obedience comes in various forms. 

We worked on parts of school outside this week, and Nibbles accompanied us. She delights in eating grass from the yard, although most of it is brown these days. Pray for rain for western North Carolina, as I'm sure you've heard about the wildfires here. As distracting as it can be to have our piggy along for schoolwork, we have to look for and receive joy where God gives it, and she fits the bill for sure. If you desire a pet but don't want a lot of work, a guinea pig is perfect. 

We went to Dad's alma mater yesterday to enjoy a football game. This man is Uncle Tim Remaley, my godfather and special friend. He and Dad were teammates at Wofford and have known each other over fifty years. I'm grateful to have had Uncle Tim's love and company since the day I was born. I don't see him often enough anymore, but am happy to catch him at a game. Thank You, Lord, for him and his family, who have always been like my own. 

Until next time! Thanks for reading. Pass this on to others who need a friend in Christ. 

Latest Goings On

It's a gross understatement to say that it's an interesting time in our country. This post is not all about the election, although I'd be remiss if I didn't say a little something on the subject. 

I've felt somewhat on an island lately in my feelings of excitement over the juxtaposition of Trump and Clinton. What a time to be a part of an election! I told my children that never in my life have I witnessed such opposite, headstrong candidates pitted against each other for the most powerful position in the world. They can recount this time to their children, that they were alive during such a major election. All I've heard from others is, "Well, they both are terrible!" Okay, okay...but can you recall a more nail-biting race than this in your lifetime? This has gotten me interested in politics again! It's the stuff politics is made of!

I tend to stay away from big, anonymous forums when discussing political issues. My preference for any conversation is one-on-one or in a small group, with people who know me. It's important to establish equity with others before delving into topics about which folks are passionate. Where I live, in western North Carolina, opinions are at both extremes. As a conservative with many liberal friends, in the heart of the "hole in the Bible belt" as people like to say, I'm exposed to a variety of ideas that differ from what I believe. I don't think I have to "tread lightly," but rather understand the importance of having a mature discussion with others who are able to do the same. 

Those who know me would never label me a racist, homophobe, or characterize me as someone who is malicious toward any group. People are people, all made in God's image, and I'm able to love them because He does, without condoning anything that goes against His design. I'm not afraid to disagree respectfully with someone; God's opinion is supreme, but because I reflect Him, others are worth giving my respect, regardless if I think they're dead wrong. It's about treating others as Christ would; He lovingly pointed out truth, never compromising the design that He created and set in place.

My grandparents risked their lives to leave communist Cuba, and I hold firm to my dislike of big government. Conservatives have not stood for what they say they believe, which is how we ended up with a no-nonsense guy like Trump, like it or not. I'm a one-issue voter: abortion. This go-'round, a huge concern was The Supreme Court. Trump may not be who many of us would've imagined to be our candidate, but I admire his intelligence in surrounding himself with godly, strong people like Mike Pence and Ben Carson. His campaign manager, Kellyanne Conway, is impressive. 

Why are others afraid to admit these things? I voted for Trump...there, I said it. If folks decide to stop reading this blog or de-friend me on Facebook, they are showing hypocrisy. Saying one is "open-minded" requires actually being that way toward others who believe differently. Republicans nominated a blusterer like Trump because no one else has the guts to just say it. Why should it take "guts" to voice your values? That's the beauty of America...we all have a voice, even those of us on the right. I, for one, enjoy discussions with my friends on the left. It's flavorful, fun, and doesn't have to be contentious. Soldiers haven't lost their lives so that one little group can have its say, while the rest cower in silence lest they be labeled hateful. I hope I can be seen as a peaceful, intelligent representative of a side that hasn't done a good job of speaking truth with conviction.

"Let us dare to read, think, speak, and write...Let every sluice of knowledge be opened and set a-flowing." --John Adams

Two weekends ago, I had the yearly privilege of attending the Grace to Build Retreat that focuses on the teachings of Charlotte Mason. Like last year, I took away many morsels of wisdom to apply to our school. My friend and I were able to connect with other Mason moms right here in our area, and are excited to be part of a local group that will monthly discuss excerpts from Mason's writings. While I stated I enjoy conversation about various opinions, it's paramount to surround oneself with like-minded individuals. I need other moms who are specifically homeschoolers, Christ-followers who can sharpen my walk and offer encouragement on this narrow road. 

After Grace to Build, I'm encouraged to read with more voracity than before (if it were possible). Actually, speaker Liz Cottrill of Living Books Library told us that we should have eight (yes, ocho!) books going at a time. I currently actually have that many when I count the Bible. Three of them I read regularly, depending on my mood. I'm on a plan to read the Bible in a year, which I began at the start of this year, reading Old Testament in the morning, and New at night. One of my books, The Cloud of Witness, I have mentioned before. It's the treasure of daily poems, verses, and quotes that Charlotte Mason gave to the graduates of her school. Liz says that if you go into your closet and read just ten pages a day, you'll have a 300-page book read in a month. As I say, "little bits;" they add up!

An interesting read that I finished a few weeks ago is The Horse and Buggy Doctor by Dr. Arthur E. Hertzler, published in 1939:

Hertzler wrote this book at the end of his medical career. The first two-thirds recounts his memories of becoming a doctor during the late 1890's, the time of the horse and buggy. It is fascinating to hear firsthand the tales of trips that took days to reach the sick, and the primitive methods of curing ailments. This book was among my "box of books for $6" that I wrote about in another post. Yes, I actually read these obscure finds that most people would deem obsolete!

Hertzler educated me on outdated items crucial to medicine of long ago, like chloroform, ether, nux vomica, salol (given to babies with febrile seizures, now a component in floor wax), and bismuth. His chapter on kitchen surgery was fascinating, as well as his take on a sterile environment. Hertzler argues that all the pains taken "today" (1939) to sterilize the atmosphere aren't necessary; the key to staying germ-free, in his opinion, is performing the procedure as fast as possible. 

The last third of the book dragged on, as it had to do with Hertzler's education and "modern" medicine. I was much more interested in his stories of the beginning of his career than hearing a dissertation on his intelligence. Frankly, I tired of Hertzler's esteem of himself. The flavor of his tales in the first part of the book overrides his arrogance, but the details of his schooling and how smart he is just didn't hold the same interest. I recommend skipping Chapters 7 and 8, reading Chapter 9 ("I Practice Kitchen Surgery"), and ending there.

Since May, I've had the privilege of spending time with the O'Haras:

Confession: I had never seen the movie "Gone With the Wind." Admission: I read the book, then watched....and was so grateful! I can understand why, in 1939, when Hertzler was riding high on his knowledge, the movie was a big deal. However, I can't imagine watching it without having read the book. The movie was choppy, with entire plots and characters left out! I don't get how anyone can fully comprehend it without having read it first. As is usually the case, the book was much better.

It took me about three months to read it. I began it on a flight to Miami, and finished it again in Florida, during our vacation in Destin. It wasn't the only book I was reading at the time, and at 833 pages, it takes a while to digest! I encourage everyone to pick up a volume like this and not be afraid of it. Don't think you have to speed read it in a week. A feast is worth savoring slowly. A dear lady I know has had the same copy of Les Miserables on her nightstand for over three years now, but a paragraph at a time is progress. 

Growing up in South Carolina, I am familiar with much of the lifestyle here. Some ideas of 1860's Tara aren't much different than the "Who are your pah-rents?" I have been asked more than once in my life.  I saw parts of Scarlett I recognized in the me of my past, and cringed. I even felt sorry for her at times. I understood why she fell into Rhett's trap of debonaire, and how she couldn't keep away from him. Guys like him still exist in Charleston, and in all parts of the south. We're training our girls to stay away from the likes of him. 

I practically sped to the used bookstore for the sequel by Alexandra Ripley. She does an ideal job of maintaining the Scarlett we all know, yet growing her up a bit. Ripley maintains Mitchell's characters with a storyline all her own, taking our protagonist to the Ireland of her father. Both books are worth their weight in gold, yet I paid a mere buck apiece. I began reading Scarlett in August, and currently have a little over twenty pages left...don't tell me what happens, as I will finish it tonight! 

I told my husband I'm going to miss Scarlett, "The O'Hara," as she's called in this second novel, as she's been a part of my life for six months now. Good books do that; the reader forms a relationship with a character. Liz Cottrill tells a story about a friend who grew so close to a Jane Austen character, she actually prayed for her! I haven't gone that far with poor Scarlett, but have had every reason to based on the events of her life.  

What wonders happen when we take our forefather John Adams's advice to "dare to read;" we find ourselves trapped half the night to move toward the ending, and end up thinking, speaking, and writing. 

Until next time (I hope)!