My Shack

A couple years ago I read The Shack. I loved it. I thought of it today as the Holy Spirit was poking at me. I love that the main character was pulled away and hidden while God worked on his heart.

God talks to me in dreams a lot. I think because my brain is finally quiet and He can speak directly to my squishy insides. I also see pictures. Not quite visions, more like God inspired imagination. Not normally something I could come up with myself, but if I'm in the questioning mood which is often, I see if it aligns with what I know of God's heart.

Today I saw a picture of Jesus in a shack. At first He looked like a little granny, knitting. Then He grins at me and I realize it's Jesus, in a dress, knitting. I look at his hands and He's knitting scraps of a silky, vibrant substance together.

It's my heart.

While Jesus knits, I'm sitting on a windowseat, looking out. There's a meadow with horses grazing. Jesus looks at me and says, "Soon. You're going to get to go out and play." I explode into tears of joy and longing.

That place, that shack, feels so precious and quiet. I'm not sure what Jesus is doing in it, but I'm so glad to be hidden.

There's a place for you, too. A hidden place that Jesus wants to pull you away to and sing a song just for you.

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of - throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.” -CSLewis

The New Sins of Society

Evidently racism and sexism has become the new moral horror of the developed world. Not that they are new phenomena, but how they are treated has become really interesting.

In my understanding, both racism and sexism are beliefs that a race or sex is inferior to another. This is obviously not from the heart of God, because He created everyone in the image of Himself. There isn't a part of God that is inferior to another part of God.

We have seen racism throughout our American history in really heartbreaking ways. The English considered the Native Americans savages and somehow subhuman. Thereby justifying occupying their land, cheating and murdering them. I'm just talking the negative side; there were many who treated them with respect and consideration. The next wave came with African slaves; slavery was justified because the Negro was subhuman. Much of the Church quoted Paul to justify slavery.

The next appearance of racism was different. It appeared through immigration, and the root cause was money. The Italians hated the Irish, then the Irish hated the black man. The Californians hated the Chinese. All this was because the most recent immigrated group would work for almost nothing, and the jobs were given to them. It became easy to vilify a race that was supposedly robbing you of a job.

I have to mention the racism that occurs during war. It's almost a necessary evil. How can a good man go out a and massacre a group of people? While this may not be the intention, a soldier learns to view the enemy as less than he. How else is he to survive? Coming home at peace time poses a problem. Now the soldier has had to view each people group as equal to himself. The race that tried to kill him could be his neighbor. I'm not saying this is right, this is just the psychology that comes with the ugliness of war.

Ok, so that's racism. I know I didn't mention examples of sexism, but this is a blog not a book. There is something else that no one wants to talk about, and because we're not talking about it, it is getting mislabeled.

Everyone is different. Every race is different. Every culture is different. And we all have brains and we make observations that we are all different. It used to be the case that we would conclude that because we didn't understand someone else, this makes them inferior. I don't think this happens as much today.

Ten years ago I used to wait tables. A certain people group were really poor tippers. I mean, they left me pocket change on seventy five dollar tabs. Because I paid tip pool, a percentage of my total sales went to hostesses, busboys and bartenders, this usually meant I was actually paying to wait on them. And they were usually the highest maintenance customers. Did I hate them? No, but I had to constantly take it to Jesus. I certainly didn't think they were inferior to myself, but had I treated them with disrespect, I could have certainly been accused of racism.

This sort of thing happens all the time. Culture clashing against culture. Misunderstanding and miscommunication. Differences. When are we going to start talking about it?

Each culture or race comes with their own set of weaknesses and sins. Noticing them is not racism, it's having a brain. When will we start talking about them?

America is a tapestry of different peoples and backgrounds. Our strength doesn't lie in our sameness, it lies in our differences. Lets stop labeling something out of fear and start talking about our issues.

The Sacrifice of Drudgery

I was told recently by a good friend with a well-meaning heart that I am not a good housewife. The intent was to encourage me; that my bigger dreams were worth more than housework. Of course, that's not how I took it. ;)

I know few housewives that really feel called to housewifery. We all know it's good. Even CS Lewis says that all careers exist to support that one. But called? That somehow evokes the idea that one will feel fulfilled by doing it.

Maybe I'm just not a good housewife. I do not get fulfilled by cleaning, by picking up countless socks and toys over and over again. I am not made happy by refereeing fights, or trying to train my own children better than I was trained. There is too much fear behind the latter to make it exciting.

I know some moms who are newly inspired by 'wholesome' and 'nutritious' and 'green'. I am not. I was raised so nutritiously that the only desserts we had was on Christmas and birthdays, and the first boxed cake I made was in my teens. The first cake I made included dates and honey and whole wheat flour. I was nine. Thinking of those terms feels more like prison than joyful health. I know I'm not right, but those are my feelings.

We all love doing things that give back. I love serving and pampering my husband because he pours it back on me. But my kids and my house don't. That's a sacrifice. And boy, does it pain me.

So I've stopped trying to find fulfillment in it. I find what gives me life. Right now, spending time with Jesus, working on my music and exercise fill me up. And then I give out of that.

If you want to come visit, let me know in advance. The house won't be spotless and I will set aside time to prepare for you. I'm sowing to my heart, and I'm planning on reaping something besides exhaustion and stress. :)

Lepers

Do you ever avoid the unhealthy? I do. The super needy, the insecure, the ones with little knowledge or understanding of the spiritual, the broken. And I'm talking about believers. 

The sad part of this is that I have been avoided. In the past and even now. I have been too broken. I've needed more than others, even those in pastoral leadership can give. They can't fix me. 

Like attracts like. We like to be around people of the same level of brokenness as ourselves. That way, at least we can give to each other and it never really costs us more than we have. Even if we choose to minister to others, we do not choose to be in relationship with them.

And that's the saddest part. 

Only in relationship can we become truly healthy. Jesus is absolutely the answer. Relationship with Him, but God actually created us to meet Him also through relationship with others. 

The thing that is the hardest to see is that we are all broken. We look on the outside, and judge. We judge the poor, the fat, the socially inept. And then it switches; the judged judge the rich, the skinny, the socially popular. We can't see how much we need Jesus because we are too busy trying to make ourselves look better than the next guy.

Jesus spent a huge amount of time with His Father, and then surrounded Himself with people that couldn't give back. I think one of the reasons the Church is powerless is because we aren't doing exactly that. Why should God fill us up if we won't pour ourselves out.

I want to cry as I write this because I see my own stingy heart. I don't want to fill my own child's sippee cup a third time. How can I pour myself out? I have nothing to give.

What if we all could realize that?

Jesus, the Law Breaker

One of the best and one of the worst things ever given to me was being born into a Christian family. I was taught from very young about pleasing God and how to go about it. The fear of hell scared me into salvation at the age of six. As I grew up, I learned all about the right things to do and the right things to think. I was trained into pseudo holiness.

Imagine my surprise when, becoming a grownup I asked God to pour Himself out on me. After all, I am a mature Christian. Right?

Nope.

What I wasn't trained to do was hear from God and develop a relationship  with Him. I was just supposed to automatically do it. Godly principles are there to tell you that you are hearing from God...right?

Nope.

If Jesus is perfect theology, let's look at Him. He did everything right. Right?

Nope.

Jesus was born owing money. To the government. That's what taxes are.

Jesus ran away from his parents, initially refused his mother at Cana, and left His father's (Joseph's) business. Dishonor and Disobedience? Oh dear.

After the age of thirty, Jesus didn't have a job. He didn't save money. Hence, fishing for the tax money.

Jesus depended on others for support. Wealthy women and sinners funded his ministry.

Jesus did not obey the Law. He healed on the Sabbath, lost His temper in the Synogogue, and disobeyed and argued with the religious leaders.

So, what did Jesus have? He had relationship with His Father. He spent a huge amount of time with Him. He even said that one could see what the Father was like by looking at himself. Scandalous.

When did the Law come in Biblical history? After being set free from Egypt and after refusing relationship with God in order to have Moses as a go between.

The Law is for slaves. The Law reveals sin and emphasizes the chasm between us and God. And the Law cannot bring us to God because not one of us has the capability of performing ourselves into God's grace. That's what Jesus did. Jesus, the Law Breaker.

Ok, so that can of worms is open now. I'm a baby, and obeying rules won't make me anything other than a baby. Or a slave.

First step to freedom is seeing. I guess I need help. ;)

Pain is Weakness Leaving the Body

I've been having a really hard time lately. It doesn't make sense because I know I'm doing exactly what I'm supposed to be doing. Yet, ouch.

I've never had so much quiet time with Jesus. Some days are sweet, some days it takes a machete and a machine gun to get to the sweetness. And the more time I spend with Him, the weaker I become.

I have, that is, had...a fantastic will. I could make myself do anything. Discipline was my middle name. And yet, throughout the years each little bit has been chipped away. Lately it has given way entirely.

I can't make myself be good. I am not good. I can't make myself holy. I am not holy.

The more time I spend with the One that is truly good, truly holy...I realize that the Jess I thought I knew, was just a poser.

So now I am dying a slow, agonizing, horrible, exhilarating death. And it is the best and the worst experience of my life. I am beginning to get a glimpse of that Lion that Mr. Beaver spoke of; "He's not tame, but He's good."