Not Even Eyelids

HidingHe was perched atop his booster seat, at the table in my kitchen, hair wild from a nap and up to his elbows in raisins.  I was full-time Auntie for the weekend, while my sister and her husband were away.  In his parents’ absence, my nephew came to me for all things:  his injuries (which, thankfully, were few), his delights (which, thankfully, were many), and his various needs like shoe-tying, snack-making, book-reading, and more snack-making.  I enjoyed what felt like celebrity treatment from him and we had a terrific weekend together.

As he enjoyed a bounty of raisins with his brother and my children around our table, an ‘incident’ occurred.  Nothing major, mind you, but an infraction on his part that required correction.  I was tempted to overlook it, desirous of preserving my rock star status in his eyes, but it was [sigh] necessary.

Due to the patient and dedicated teaching of his parents, my nephew’s conscience was already pricked over his wrongdoing.  I knew because I saw it on his face: his head was cocked ever-so-slightly away from me, and his eyes squinted shut, the smallest crows’ feet wrinkling his perfect three-year-old skin.  You see, he’d gone to his own special place.  Away from me.  His toddler rationale:  if he couldn’t see me, then I couldn’t see him.  And if I couldn’t see him, I couldn’t discipline him.

Nice try, slim. 

It was as darling as it was absurd.

We’re not able to conceal ourselves and our wrongdoings from God any more than closing his eyes eclipsed him from my vision.  Much as I wished to lovingly teach, correct and restore my nephew, so too the Lord invites our confessions:

But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness.
— 1 John 1:9 NLT

People who conceal their sins will not prosper, but if they confess and turn from them, they will receive mercy.
— Proverbs 28:13 NLT

Our Father spared nothing, not even His Son, to secure our forgiveness.  The knowledge that forgiveness has already been extended should liberate us to freely, though not flippantly, seek Him for restoration.

As a parent (and Auntie), I pray my children find me merciful in hearing their admissions of guilt.  I hope I demonstrate, in some small fashion, the loving instruction and grace so generously offered to me in Christ Jesus.  As a child of God, I pray I will run to my God for His merciful forgiveness, trusting fully in the sacrifice made to secure it for me.

We needn’t hide.  Nothing we do, no sin we commit, can separate us from God if we have trusted in Christ.  Nothing.  Not even eyelids.

 

And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from God’s love. Neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither our fears for today nor our worries about tomorrow—not even the powers of hell can separate us from God’s love. No power in the sky above or in the earth below—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.  
— Romans 8:38,39

It’s all good

Through the tunnel: It's all goodIt’s all good.  Or, is it?

Culturally, we’re hung up on the concept of ‘good.’  Companies like Yoplait and Life is Good hinge their slogans and even their very name on the word.  Our vernacular employs it to connote anything that is positive, pleasurable, or profitable.  It’s become an arbitrary or generic term for anything we like.

In a world virally-infected with sin, where disease and depravity run rampant, can the simple phrase ‘it’s all good’ possibly bear truth?  Children are abandoned or abused; families stagger under the weight of poverty the world over; natural disasters and accidents wreak havoc on life and livelihood.  These can hardly be described as ‘good’, can they?

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
– Romans 8:28

This verse is the inspiration for the name of this website: Eight Twenty-Eight. As mentioned on my About page, I chose it because I routinely quote this verse to myself as an audible flash-card, to train myself in the mindset of knowing that God is both good and powerfully at work in the lives of His people.

According to Vines Expository Dictionary of the Bible, the Greek word for ‘good’ (agathos) as it’s used in Romans 8:28,

“describes that which, being “good” in its character or constitution, is beneficial in its effect.”

When the definite article ‘the’ precedes it, as it does in Romans 8:28, it

“signifies that which is “good,” lit., “the good,” as being morally honorable, pleasing to God, and therefore beneficial.”

Isn’t that a game-changer?

Beneficial in its effect.  For our benefit.  The benefit of becoming more like Christ. 

My father died of a brain tumor when I was nine years old.  I spent thirteen years not just grieving, but shaking my fist in rage at God for allowing it.  Surrendering to my need for a Savior and trusting in the sacrifice and resurrection of Christ brought the healing I desperately needed. As a Christian, I reap the reward of this promise given to believers. I see how He has brought beauty out of those ashes:  I have offered comfort to those with similar losses, I value my husband’s role in the lives of my children much more profoundly, I rejoice that I have a Father in heaven, and I responded to the plight of the fatherless in bringing home my sons from Russia.

When viewing present circumstances, it requires lenses of faith to believe that what we endure now will benefit us later. Our vision is limited; we think only in terms of this life, and often merely of our comfort in it. Yet all that befalls us has passed first before the Throne of God, and He has allowed it (though He cannot cause evil).  He is fitting us for heaven with every experience, shaping our characters into the likeness of Christ, ones that can trust and praise Him in all circumstances.

The horrible injustices we observe or experience aren’t ‘good’ in and of themselves, but rather ‘good’ in the effect they produce, even if we don’t see that fruit on this side of eternity. That which another intends for evil, God repurposes – redeems, if you will – for good. (Genesis 50:20)  For the believer, all things can be used by God to render us into greater likeness to Christ. From this eternal perspective all things are, therefore, good.

This knowledge doesn’t make our earthly sufferings easy to endure; they are not simply overcome with those words.  In the darkest hours, I return to the first part of Romans 8:28:  “And we know…”  When I don’t feel that anything good can come of whatever I’m enduring, I have to lean on my knowledge of who God is and what His Word says.

And His Word says that He will. Someday… somehow.

In this world ravaged by depravity, my human eyes observe very little to be ‘good’ – much less all.  And so, I yield.  I yield to the knowledge that God is indeed sovereign, trusting that He can and will work all things together for the good of those who love Him.  And thus I will trust that, “It will all be good.”

Will you?

 

Dedicated to KP:
Thank you for your living testimony to this truth in your life.

Tangled

Muffled whimpers escaped the closed bathroom door.  It was past the time when she was due downstairs for the morning, so I’d gone upstairs to check on Boo.  This darling daughter o’ mine is a basketful of surprises:  I had no idea what I’d find when I opened the door.  Perhaps frustration over getting earrings into her recently-pierced ears?  Sadness over one escaping down the sink drain?

I found her dripping wet from her shower, trying to extricate a comb wound so tightly with hair that I feared removal would require surgical intervention.  She was pulling and twisting, ratcheting the hair tighter with every failed attempt to free it, like a Chinese finger trap.

“Why didn’t you ask me for help?”  She was afraid I’d laugh.  Laughter was a generous assumption of my response, given the dictates of the over-filled morning that lay ahead.  I tabulated the number of minutes remaining until we needed to leave for the bus stop, knowing breakfast hadn’t been consumed nor backpacks loaded.  I silently asked God to help me put those concerns aside to meet her needs, physically and emotionally.  She didn’t want my help, but she needed it.  If she didn’t trust me to do right by her, we weren’t going anywhere – literally or figuratively.

I cajoled her into getting dressed and coming downstairs.  (Or did I threaten?)  She finally appeared in the kitchen in a school-appropriate outfit and a terry cloth wimple she’d constructed from her towel to conceal her ‘issue.’

The best strategy I could devise to salvage as much hair as possible was to pour oil on her head, hoping it would lube the locks.  I massaged it into the gnarled comb-hair mass.  I tugged.  It hurt.  She cried.  I fetched wire cutters from the garage and snipped teeth off the comb, in hopes of freeing still more hair.  It was tedious work with dismaying results, sometimes loosing merely a few strands at a time.  It pushed the limits of my patience.  And hers.  Still, she needed my help.  Eventually, it was clear that scissors were warranted.  I snipped carefully and finally liberated my daughter from her encumbrance.

As I washed the oil from her hair in the sink, I gently inquired what caused her predicament.  She couldn’t offer much explanation for motive, except that she wanted to see what would happen, and really thought she’d be able to get it out.  She lay outstretched on the counter, her head cupped in my hands over the sink, and she looked up at me, her Disney Princess eyes finally free of tears and embarrassment.  The vulnerability of her gaze and position were striking to me.  There was closeness, intimacy, in being trusted to help, and proving faithful to it.

How often I’ve found myself in a tangled situation, facing an outcome I hadn’t predicted.  I retreat into my misery, whimpering as I tug on the strands of error, lack of forethought, and sin.  I hide my face from the Lord, covering myself with other competencies and busyness to conceal the glaring problem-that-can’t-be-hidden.   Ultimately, though, there are messes in my life that I cannot unravel; I need Another’s help.  Though I may not want to feel so exposed, I need His help.  Sometimes His tools are fragrant oils that wash easily away, other times wire cutters and scissors are necessary, with more painful and enduring effects.  In either case, I must lay myself out on the counter – the altar, place myself into His cupped hands, and in trust look up.  In that vulnerability there is Holy intimacy. And He is faithful to help, never forsaking me.

And I am certain that God, who began the good work within you, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus returns.
— Philippians 1:6 NLT

Recommended reading (or listening!): Psalm 40

Story told with permission from the hair ‘stylist,’ who felt blessed to know that her story taught me something, and was then willing to have it shared with you. 

Defiant Praise

In the span of merely a week, I have had the solemn privilege of hearing some of the hardships facing those I love: concern over being able to feed one’s family for lack of financial resources, job changes and layoffs, life-altering diagnoses, far-flung ramifications of untimely deaths, and children in the direst of circumstances—emotionally, spiritually and physically.

“In this world [we] will have trouble…” (John 16:33 ESV)

Indeed, we will have trouble. Of this we are acutely, painfully aware. Jesus’ message to us is that we will never be alone in our tribulations, and that the victory is won, even if we only see it in heaven. I do find genuine comfort in that. As I try to bear up under the challenges facing my own household, while seeking to support and bless those around me in the midst of their hardships, I get hung up on how to live vibrantly, faithfully, and fully—here and now —in the face of those struggles. Without Christian platitudes.

Three simple letters hold the key.

I was entreated by a simple three-letter word in Habakkuk’s prayer: “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.”

Yet.

The prophet was burdened and fearful, and perplexed by God’s perceived will. But he was moved from fear to faith through praise. Undaunted, tenacious praise. His praise for God flew in the face of his circumstances. It boldly proclaimed his faith would not be shaken. Choosing to rejoice in God in the midst of his circumstances girded him to stand firmly.

“Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.” I needed that simple word this week. It urged me to do what I felt unable to do: to praise God. When I am paralyzed of praise, laboring to utter any blessing back to the Lord, I am invited to use those penned by the psalmists. Their words siphon out of me the knowledge of God’s goodness that had been previously squelched by fear and frustration, confusion and concern; they draw a boundary no fear dare cross.

No matter the circumstance: God is sovereign and good.
No matter the sin: Jesus paid the price.
No matter the need: God is powerful and able.
No matter what this life brings: Jesus has overcome the world.

The burdens are many and heavy. Yet I will rejoice in the Lord. I will offer undaunted praise, in spite of all the pain I see and feel. Will you?


Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the LORD;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
GOD, the Lord, is my strength;
he makes my feet like the deer’s;
he makes me tread on my high places.
—Habakkuk 3:17-19 ESV


Recommended reading:
Hind’s Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard

Related music:
Check out Matt Redman’s “Blessed be Your Name”

Trust

In making the rounds to garner back-to-school attire and supplies for my kids, stores issued many incentives to come back later and spend more money.  I noticed, in particular, a $10 coupon from Old Navy which imitated our American currency, saying “In happiness we trust.”  The underlying supposition, of course, is that buying clothes at Old Navy will make one happy.

My mind immediately flashed to the statement on our legal tender:  In God we trust.  I felt defensive not for the “almighty dollar” but for the Almighty Himself.  For it is in Him we place our trust.

Or do we?

The word ‘trust’ in the Bible is used some 134 times, with slight variation and nuance to the meaning.  Generally, it’s defined as hope, confidence or security.   The unflattering truth is likely that we put a great deal of confidence and security in circumstantial happiness, evidenced by

– the desire to change jobs when we feel under-appreciated or under-paid
– switching schools at the first sign of hardship, socially or academically
– replacement of perfectly functional household goods, clothing and even body parts.

There are excellent reasons to do each of those things, but often those choices are driven by discontent, or unhappiness, assuming our pleasure alone is reason enough to precipitate change.

The price of trusting in circumstances or happiness is exorbitant and fickle, requiring ever-increasing payments.  Much like the so-called coupon, to redeem it, we have to spend more.

Not so with the Lord.  To trust Him is to have the enduring surety of a steadfast God, who can work all things out for our good (Romans 8:28).  It is to know that He has great plans for our lives, even if our circumstances appear to say otherwise (Jeremiah 29:11).  Most pointedly, it means giving assent to trials – counting them as privilege – because He wishes to refine our faith (James 1:2).  Surely these reasons merit the placement of my hope, confidence, security – my trust – in Him.

I finished my errands, my wallet engorged with receipts and ‘invitations’ to spend more money, masquerading as opportunities to save.  There are sound fiscal reasons to use cash instead of checks, debit cards or credit cards.  Now I’ve found another, more compelling, reason:  a tangible reminder, urging me to search whether it’s true of myself, “IN GOD WE TRUST.”

Command those who are rich in this present world not to be arrogant nor to put their hope in wealth, which is so uncertain, but to put their hope in God, who richly provides us with everything for our enjoyment.
–1 Timothy 6:17 (TNIV)