Growing WITH Them

Photo by Nicole Honeywill on Unsplash

I took a deep breath, looked a few of them intentionally straight in the eyes, and sincerely apologized.

In over 25 years of student ministry, I can't ever remember starting a Bible study this way.

They were gracious and, I believe, appreciative of my honesty and transparency.

In the weeks that have passed since, I have been so very blessed by these teens, that I had to share.

I have learned from them. God has taught me so much. Prayers were answered. My eyes have been opened and I have grown.

 Before any of this could've begun to happen, I had to to confess my sin, first to God and then to them.

I'm not proud of my sins.  The specific ones that had led up to this particular confession are a couple of my go-to "favorites," the ones I commit without intention and seem to creep into every aspect of my perceptions and self-centered reactions.

The class had ceased to be "fun" for me to teach. The students attending seemed to be bored and apathetic. There was no evidence of anyone having any spiritual growth over the 3+ years I had been teaching it. I was frustrated with what I perceived to be there inattention and un-appreciation.  

Looking back, I am not sure how He did it, but He did. The Holy Spirit genteelly pointed out that I was the one who was bored and apathetic AND that I had gotten that way because I was self-righteously and pridefully judging these young believers.

My self-perception of being this "great" teacher who had written these "fantastic" Bible studies led me to fully embrace the belief that I was better than these students, who came every Sunday morning to Sunday school. After all, I had been a Christian far longer than anyone of them had even been alive and none of them would even agree to open our time together in a word of prayer. They were dependent on me to do that for them too. I looked at that at as another reason to judge and condemn them.

But God . . .

He reminded me that each believer is on his or her own journey with Him. He is working, weaving our paths to intertwine and cross in ways that exceed our imaginations. I am not to judge how close those teens are to God based on an hour or so I spend with them once a week. How can I really tell whether or not that they are growing spiritually on their journeys or not?

Prayerfully, I wanted the class to see each other and our time together as an oasis from the pressures they face in their worlds outside of church. Public school, jobs, family issues, expectations  (I was even heaping those on them) and more all weigh so much heavier on them than when "I was their age."

Through another Bible study I had been preparing for, I saw how Anna welcomed Baby Jesus and his parents to the temple. She encountered God, had lifelong prayers answered and then went and told other believers of the great thing God had done for her and was doing for all of them. This is what I wanted the teenagers to do - encourage each other by sharing how God was working in their lives and answering their prayers.

Now, we are all learning and growing together through His Word. They are starting to share how God is showing them cross-references in their personal Bible studies and how His Spirit is intervening to help them make right decisions. No one is volunteering to pray aloud - yet, but they are listening to each other - and I am listening to them too. How did God do this?

• First, I realized WE all had to open our eyes to see how God is working in our lives. Part of my confession that morning was just that - how the Holy Spirit had revealed my sin and impressed upon my heart to ask them for forgiveness. I needed them to know that I didn't have any special link to God because I was older or because I was their Sunday school teacher or because I had been a Christian longer or because I wasn't afraid to pray aloud publicly . . . 

• Second, I needed their help to hold me accountable to be intentional to seek God out. If I wanted God to use our 1 hour a week I needed to be praying about it. I needed to be in His Word, hearing what He was speaking into my heart. I needed to be listening too - not just checking it off my to-do list, but concentrating, meditating, processing what He saying. I was kinda, sorta doing those things, however, my heart was far from into it -especially in regards to them and this class. 

• Third, in order to be intentional -and to involve them in that intentionality, I enlisted their help in deciding our next course of study. Desiring for their buy-in and ownership, I asked them for what they wanted to study and then I listened.  3 John was chosen due to its brevity and I assigned them the homework of reading it before next week. And they did it!

• Fourth, I stopped preparing a lesson. I am not saying that I won't go back to prepping for our time together, but for now, I am wanting them to learn to read and to study and to apply scripture for themselves. It's a little disconcerting to start a lesson in front of teenagers and not know where we are going, but it has been so cool to see God's Word come alive to all of us at the same time. They have had insights I didn't see. They are seeing how even this little book tucked toward the end of the New Testament has applications to their teenage lives. 

This has very much been a group effort and, for the first time in a long time, I am looking forward to my time with them each week. 3 John may only consist of 15 verses, but we all seem to be really learning it as has already taken us over a month to go through it verse-by-verse. 

All this started when I confessed my sin. My sin had led to arrogance and had stifled not only my journey with God, but had directly affected the class' journeys too. Sin is never private and never limits its effects to the one committing it. 

I tried to talk myself out of asking for their forgiveness. I mean I knew God had forgiven me, but I also knew that I would still be a slave to my sin of pride if I didn't swallow it and own it. The results were so worth it. 

The courage the Holy Spirit gave me to confess aloud to the group cultivated the safe environment the students needed for them to be transparent and share what God was doing in their lives too. Once my sin was out in the open, they then had freedom to share their ideas and impressions of what God is doing in their individual lives. If, as their leader, I can't be real then I can't expect them to be vulnerable either. 

Their forgiveness has been sweet and freeing. No longer do I need to put up a facade that I have it altogether. I don't have to have all the answers. I have laid aside my pride and can genuinely say, "I don't know. What do you think?" 

Without my self-righteousness and pride in the way I can learn and grow WITH them . . . You know, I think this sounds kinda like New Testament discipleship . . . 

Love, Life and Loss

Photo by Aung Soe Min on Unsplash

I finished the novel on Sunday afternoon.

It was good. 

It is over 48 hours later and I am still thinking about it. 

I didn’t see the plot twist coming until it hit me as I wiped the tears from my cheeks. The author did his job. I am an “all in” reader and I was invested in these characters. I am sure my husband would’ve read between the lines, realized what the true conflict was, and predicted the ending - but I did not. 

Relating to the author’s description of the couple’s romance and love, I was rooting for their separation to result in reconciliation and the book to end in that “happily ever after.” However, that author, that really good author, had other ideas . . .  

What novel is this you ask? I don’t want to spoil it for anyone who may pick it up - or for whomever might find it on Netflix or at the local Redbox when they watch the movie version. So, I will not share the title, but it has really made me think and feel and pray . . . 

As a result, I need to write to process these thoughts and feelings and prayers.

The main character spends a great deal of the book “flashing back” in correspondence to his wife. Their relationship from the start was rare and epic, a kind of fantasy, fairy-tale, what every girl grows up longing for. Through his messages to her, I liked her and found myself rooting for her, for him and for them - the identity of the two of them together. 

In the last two chapters, the main character reveals that his wife had died nearly four years before the action of the book even began. For four years he was still just as in love and as dedicated to her has he had ever been. For these four years he had existed by simply putting one foot in front of the other and doing whatever the day in front of him required. As he did so, he continued to buy her flowers, spend time by her side and share his life with her as much as he could. 

There were things left unsaid when she had died. He had regret and carried shame. He felt responsible and longed for forgiveness he felt he didn’t deserve. 

In the middle of this inner turmoil the reader doesn't realize he is in, he meets someone new. Actually, they are thrown together in an impossible, life-and-death situation. They face insurmountable odds and bond through their hardships. He tells her of his wife and when he does, he speaks of her in the present tense - as if she is waiting at home for his return. This new woman in his life trusts that he is married and is envious of this amazing love he shares with his wife. In all ways he stays true to his wife and still sees himself very much married to her. 

In the end, he shares with this new woman the truth about the circumstances that made him a widower. In the end, he is able to love both of them . . . his love for his first love never faded but made him able to love this new lady, but in a different, equally amazing way. In the end, the new woman doesn’t take the place of the dead wife but in respect to her, is able to help him heal. 

As I think about these fictional people, I am well aware that they are very much just that - fictional. There was a lot about the story that could be considered contrived or too coincidental to be true - However, these three individuals were incredibly relatable to me, but I didn’t realize why until this morning. 

My sister-in-law and I have been messaging over Facebook - you know on the “private” Messenger part. I had seen a video posted and thought of her. Not wanting to publicly “tag” her in it, I sent it through Messenger. She responded with a couple of links to articles that reverberated the same ideas. As I read them, I realized that the novel I have just finished is in many ways her life. 

She was not involved in a life-and-death battle for her physical ability to breath, but she has been through the trauma of trying to will her heart to keep beating after the sudden death of my brother-in-law, her daughter’s daddy, the love of her life, her husband - James. 

In complete honesty, she has communicated to me that she has not and will never “move on.” James is still very much a part of her everyday and, because of the love he had for her and she still has for him - this will always be her reality. She will always be his widow. 

This is true but not in spite of her new husband. It isn’t at his expense. He knows he will never replace James and has not tried to do so. Actually, he is pretty remarkable. Somehow he knows that she is able to love him the way she does because of her continued devotion to James. He has lost a wife too and together they can keep their memories of their spouses very much still alive. 

Some people may not get that. They may criticize her or him or them, but if that is the case, then I wonder what exactly those judges actually understand about love and loss and life. 

Through James’ life, the life of my grandmother, the life of my mother-in-law and others, I have received and given love. My understanding of love has grown even in and through their deaths. They have not, nor will they ever be replaced. However,  in their absence I am able to give and receive love from others and from God, Himself. 

He understands my hurt and my pain. He loves me in and through it all. 

His grace has allowed me to put one foot in front of the other and has exponentially grown my my faith through my losses. His resurrection is my hope and His Word promises that what is yet to be is better than what has been. I may not understand that, but I know it’s true. 

This morning my devotion was about how the pain of this life pales in comparison to the eternal glory that is to come. Paul, when he wrote these words, was not belittling the pain of this life, but rather encouraging  the believer with the truth that what comes next is richer, is far better and for them to strive to have an eternal perspective on today’s hurt. 

The love that follows loss of life is so multifaceted and rich. Honestly, I believe it is God-sized and God-given. It shows us more of Him and His character and His love for us. It enables us to love others deeper and live with greater appreciation for His good gifts. 

The novel I finished Sunday was not a “Christian” fiction book. I thought I was reading a suspenseful  survival story. Yet, God spoke to me loud and clear about how He defines love - It is bigger than the love of a spouse. It is greater than the limits that we put on it. It is honestly deeper than our comprehension. 

And this is how He feels toward us . . . 

Still There?

It's been a long time since I've posted.

It's not that I haven't wanted to post or that I didn't have anything to say.

If I had posted it would have been forced or done out of some self-imposed obligation. I never wanted that to be the purpose behind this blog or why I write.

My unintentional hiatus has been filled with both the busiest and that laziest of days.

"May-cember" was jammed filled with 4 recitals, 2 academic awards ceremonies, 2 weddings, a few rehearsals and my niece's high school graduation. Parties were attended and gifts were given. My planner was filled with what was happening when and list upon list of things to remember and to do.

The month ended with a much needed family vacation to Destin, a place we have retreated to before. It felt like home. With toes in the sand and sun soaking my skin, I rested and worshipped. I was in awe of my smallness beside the Gulf and of my God's greatness, faithfulness and power.

I had taken my computer to the condo so I could blog in the early mornings before we hit the sand and surf or in the late nights after the laughter from the game night had subsided into the sweet sounds of my family sleeping. Inspiration was there, but the words to type never came.

We returned home to a much slower pace and I found myself delighted with the time to paint my nails, read a fiction book for fun and start the process of prepping my bedroom for a procrastinated painting project. Even with Vacation Bible School responsibilities, and lessons God was pressing on my heart - I just did not have the words to write.

Then last night, after some good food and good fellowship with some good friends, I came home and I could not, not write. I had to sort out all my thoughts and feelings despite the lateness of the hour. When my head finally hit the pillow, the damn had broken and I hope to post quite a bit more in the next few days.

Just as busy as May was and as slow as June has unfolded, I am reminded that like the waves at the beach there should be an ebb and flow to my days.

As Ecclesiastes says, there is a time for everything. There are days that should be productive where the checklist is completed and sleep comes with the satisfaction that progress was made. Then there are days that should only produce rest and that night sleep still can come because of faith that God is God over all the things I didn't do that day. He is glorified in both.

There may be seasons of routine, structure and productivity, but there is great benefit for those times to be interrupted. Physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually there is profit for those days where we break from routine, from structure and we find a new definition of productivity.

Despite my plans and how I define my days - God like the constant, never-ending rhythm of the waves lapping the shore. He is faithful, providing countless graces to meet needs I never thank Him for. He is findable as I pray and search His Word, He is there. He is unfathomable in His immense greatness especially combined with His intimate involvement in my life.

I may not be as disciplined in my blogging and writing as I would like. But, it isn't about me. He is the constant. He is the routine and the structure that produces His definition of productivity in and through me.

I haven't failed by not posting in so long. Rather, I pray that in my silence on this site I have been obedient to Him. I hereby give myself permission NOT to live up to my own expectations of myself and this blog. I hereby give it back to Him.

(Just so you know, I know that I will have to give it back to Him again and again.)