Light.

“The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it.”  John 1:5 (NIV)

I was reading this Scripture the other day.  My first thought was “That is pretty abstract!”, and I found myself struggling to understand what God was trying to convey through John.  I knew that John was speaking of Jesus, but what really caught my attention was John 1:5.  Below, at the bottom of the page in the footnote, was a line that gave an alternative reading, which means there was room in how the Greek was translated:  “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.” (emphasis mine).

So I started to think more about light and the word “overcome”.  Literally, what light is, when do we see it, and how does it relate to darkness; praying that God might grant me some insight.  Pondering this, I had a startling realization–light shines into the darkness, and though, it seems overwhelmingly surrounded by it, darkness cannot overcome it.

You can have a room filled with nothing but shadows and darkness, and yet, with a small light on, the darkness cannot swallow that light even with the overwhelming amount of darkness pushing against it.  Thinking further, darkness only arrives when a light source is turned off or the sun sets.  It is dependent on light diminishing one way or another to allow it in, and so, it cannot penetrate light in the way that light breaks into its realm.  It does not arrive to block out sunlight; instead it is allowed in because the sunlight is no longer present on our side of the earth. Think of the last time you held a flashlight and how it lights up the area where it is shined.  Even as we cast shadows, they are not dictated by a source other then our bodies blocking the light.  Light is in control.

“Through Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made.  In Him was life, and that life was the light of men.  The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not overcome it.”  John 1:3-5

Let’s look deeper at the definition of “light”.  Now I am taking this out of a old source, but one that I love dearly:  American Dictionary of the English Language written by Noah Webster, the 1828 edition, republished by the Foundation for American Christian Education.  Light is “that ethereal agent or matter which makes objects perceptible to the sense of seeing, but the particles of which are separately invisible.”  Though the definition is much longer, I paused at this sentence because I love the idea that light is what makes us see but, in and of itself, it is invisible.

Do you want to know how I think this applies to us?

God has given each of us the chance if we so choose to spread His light.  “There came a man who was sent from God; his name was John.  He came as a witness to testify concerning that light, so that through Him all men might believe.  He himself was not the light; he came only as a witness to the light.”  John 1:6-8.

Now many think that shining the light means sharing the gospel, and yes, that is one of the definitions of light and one way to look at it.  But light is even more encompassing in its definition…it shines through an object making it perceptible to others.  And so, what if sharing the gospel is really about letting His light shine through our lives so others can see how God is present in it rather than just telling them about Jesus?  My friends, living the light is so much than mere words can convey…

Did you know that light’s definition also includes comfort, joy, felicity, happiness, and the understanding of judgment as well as deliverance and saving knowledge, both of which can involve way more than just salvation. How many of those characteristics radiate out of you?  How often do you allow God to use your life to bring comfort, happiness, and joy to others?  How many times have you helped gently deliver someone from something they dreaded trusting God in His desire to have you do so without your need to persuade them about His salvation in the first place…that it might be something more simple liking helping pay a bill or offering a dinner to a family who doesn’t have the strength or ability to make one?

Going further, light also means “having little weight” and “not tending to the center of gravity.”  I love those ideas as our world literally stands because of gravity, but light somehow is not controlled by it.  It doesn’t follow the trends per se, but instead goes wherever it can.  And what if the way it moves, how it acts, is meant to teach us something about how we are suppose to live?  To not be controlled by the “rules” of this world, but instead, to be a part of that which illuminates it so that others can see all those things that embody Christ in us.  More love, more joy, more comfort, more understanding, more truth and less judgment, heaviness, and oppression.

And what if we are meant to only be the instrument in which God shines His light to this world?  Our lives, not only our words, as testimony to His very existence.  John was quick to point out that those who are His are not the “Light”, but only witnesses.  Like John, our lives can become the cylinders by which His light passes, especially when we allow Him to transform them piece by piece, attitude by attitude, hurt by hurt, sin by sin, block by block, and step by step.  It is there in those changing moments with God–no matter how small–that we will make the best witnesses.  His light illuminating us so that others can see the real changes that only He can bring; the ones that people notice because they know you and know Someone has had to have helped you to make those difficult changes.

Light is not heavy nor burdensome.  It is not oppressive.  It is easy to perform, swift, active and nimble.  It is unencumbered.  It is not dense, strong nor violent.  It often eases burdens and purifies, with those just being a few of its characteristics.  So my friend, where do you stand in the Light and are you willing to let Him shine through you?

“And glory has come to Me through them.”  ~John 17:10

Up, up and away!

I remember being around nine years old when I had my first experience with uncontrolled fear.  We were in the Renaissance Center in downtown Detroit.  Our parents always took us down to Hudson’s and the riverfront at Christmas time.  On this trip, my dad took us up as high as you could go in the building so that we could see Christmas from above.  As I walked out of the elevator that we were on, there–on either side of me–were glass rails that looked open to many floors far below.  All that seemed to be holding us was a narrow platform that led to the center of the building.  Without even thinking, I dropped to my knees and gingerly crawled over to where there was solid flooring horrified at what I had just endured. 

As much as I love my dad, he stood there laughing.  I mean with the gripping-your-belly, almost-falling-over kind of laughter.  I am sure I looked hysterically funny.  I had never done that before, and I am not sure I had ever been up so high.  It was quite a shock to my system and a bang of an introduction to my fear of heights that has been with me ever since…

SONY DSCA year ago we were blessed to have a chance to go to the top of the Seattle Space Needle for lunch.  My gut reaction was frustration.  I have been battling my fear for a long time.  I have been to the top of the Empire State building, the Hancock Tower in Chicago, the Grand Canyon, and had ridden ferris wheels.  But honestly, I had grown tired of battling it.  

So, at first I said, “No.”  As time grew closer, I realized I had a choice to make:  either let my fear control this and stay on the ground, or go up with my family, do my best and enjoy the incredible opportunity I was being given.  (Just so you know, God had to walk me through my frustration in order to get me to see the true opportunity…)

With some trepidation, I entered the outside glass elevator and said a little prayer for resolve and strength.  I stood towards the back and forced my eyes open refusing to miss anything.  If I was going to have to do this, then I wasn’t going to miss out by shutting my eyes.  As it opened into the revolving restaurant, I felt my heart flutter as I watched the tables slowly move past.  We had to wait a little bit while they prepared our table, but within short order, the butterflies were gone and we were seated. 

You know what?  The view was amazing as we overlooked Seattle and the Puget Sound.  The water, the boats, the SONY DSCdowntown, the houses, the color, all of it was incredible!  All angles were wonderful and so was the company and the food!  I quickly found myself, to my amazement, unconcerned by the height.

The best part of the entire time was watching my son take in the view with little fear.  Had I allowed my fear to have its way, I would have still been on the SONY DSCground wondering…wondering what I was missing out on. 

Instead I was able to walk over to the edge and actually look out without my knees being overcome with the sensation to buckle. To my surprise, I was able to take pictures where normally I would be looking for something to hold onto. There was no crawling, no racing heart, or no overwhelming desire to flee.  As we descended to the ground in the glass elevator, I left there very happy with my experience!

And so we fast forward to this year.  While tackling the Space Needle felt right, I really did not do it voluntarily.  I was left with no choice.  Either I went or was left out.  It was that simple.  This year, God decided to move me out of my comfort zone by helping me to choose all on my own to go higher.

SONY DSCI learned something from a plant this spring.  I have a terrible invasive, yet beautiful weed, which has overtaken one of my gardens.  Knowing it needed to be brought under control, I gave it my best this spring in trying to rid it from my garden.  I dug up all of my plants but two and turned over all the dirt, carefully picking out any of the potential broken roots of this plant.  I knew it could grow backApril-May Iphone Pictures 202 easily.  Eventually I returned my perennials to their spots in the garden and waited.  Sure enough, up popped the weed!  Here, there and then, everywhere… 

What I learned is that this weed’s roots can burrow up to 9 feet down into the ground, way past where I had dug or ever care to dig.  It re-grows from the tiniest remnants.  It is nearly impossible to destroy without potentially destroying the rest of your plants.  It loves to climb and spreads easily.  Most disturbingly, it will likely be with my garden and me for the remainder of my life in this house.  April-May Iphone Pictures 182

How does this relate to my fear of heights?

While I was weeding for the umpteenth time, I realized that maybe it is a lesson on the fears or sins that I deal with; that maybe I need to continually monitor and prune them.  Is it really fair or realistic of me to think those things will just disappear after some hard work, never to reappear again?  Or is it more honest and fair to myself to understand and accept that it might be a lifetime of pruning or re-gaining control when a fear, sin, or even, sometimes something I am really passionate about, rears its ugly head and seeks to take over the moment?

So we headed north to our vacation this year.  Unfolding in front of me was the opportunity to go para-sailing.  This time, there wasn’t a lot of pressure.  I wouldn’t have been left behind with no one; several in my family were not going.  All of my siblings totally understood my fear, and I totally respected their choice to go.  This time, the choice was truly mJuly 2013 125ine and at first, I said no.

Somehow though, I began to think about all that God had been showing me in my life about my fears.  In our Bible study, we had spent the last few months being amazed at how often we let our fears get the best of us. 

So I began to ponder whether I should go.  I knew going para-sailing would push me with my fear of heights into a realm that I had never considered or been before.  I mean, come on, 500 feet in the air on a 1,000 feet of July 2013 131steel cable with a parachute behind you, the window blowing all around you, and only a harness between you and a considerable fall.  Add to it, two other people on the bar and there was pretty good logical reason to pause at the idea.

Reflecting on what I had learned in years past, I mulled over the opportunity I might be missing along with the unlikelihood that my fears would come true.  It was there that I caught a glimpse what my fear was tied to and how unrealistic it was.  As I examined it, forcing myself to go deeper in trying to understand what I was really afraid of, I saw that most of it stemmed from the idea of not wanting to die in such a horrific fashion.  To me the horror seemed to come from not being able to stop myself from falling.  I would have no way to escape, no way to change my course.  It was there that I realized I really didn’t want to die.  Somehow with my feet planted firmly on the ground, I felt like I had a running chance to avoid it.  I had some chance of taking control.  But most forms of dying don’t involve a grace-filled choice to avoid it.  It occurred to me that dying of cancer, or being in a car accident (just naming a couple out of the infinite possibilities), were no less horrific or controllable.

After that epiphany, I understood more about my fear and myself. It wasn’t all about heights.  It was more about being out of control.  However, staying on the July 2013 124ground being managed more by my fear meant I was giving up control of that part of my life.  God has designed our world to contain magnificent views from on high; whether it is on planes, from mountain tops, or up in a para-sail.  These opportunities involve a perspective that we cannot see from anywhere else. 

Letting that fear ground me meant I was giving up the chance to live my life to the fullest in that area.  In essence, I was handing my life over to my fear in a no-win bargain, especially with the odds favoring me that I would not plunge to my death.  Echoing in the back of my mind was the truth I had learned a long while ago, my fears never resolve or diminish with staying put; instead, they only seem to grow to consume even smaller heights.

So with this new understanding, a better sense of control over my fears, and a stronger sense of peace that my life is truly in God’s hands, I went para-sailing.July 2013 143 My fears were not gone; just ask my niece who wanted to swing the parachute bar and had to listen to me persistently tell her “no”!  They were mostly in check.  As they arose inside of me, I found new ways to prune them back and eventually, the July 2013 148beauty of what we was below us took over.  I allowed myself to feel my fear, accepting that it was a part of me, but I did not let it consume me to the point that it was all I could see. Much like learning to accept that the weed in my garden will be with me for a long time and will need my diligent management, I found a new way to embrace and control my fear while not missing out on the chance to go higher.

And though I was grateful to land back on the boat (I truly wanted to kiss the boat decking!), I was also grateful that my fear no longer owned me…I owned it.  I had done something I had never have thought possible; I chosen to fly like a kite suspended from a rope dangling 500 feet up in the air!  Even though my fear never completely left my side, it had not been able persuade to me stay on the ground and it did not obscure my view.  That, my friends, made the trip up worth its weight in gold!

 “Break up your unplowed ground and do not sow among the thorns.  Circumcise yourselves to the Lord, circumcise your hearts…”  ~Jeremiah 4:3-4

 

 

 

 

Hello again.

“Pain has come and taught us to fear.”  ~ You do all things well, Tenth Avenue North

It has been quiet here on my blog, for quite some time.  It would be easiest and plausible to say that it was because I was so busy.  Busy doing things; you know, “life” as so many people say.  It just got in the way.

But that’s not really the truth.  Or, at least, not completely.  Sure, there were times when life got in the way; moments where things ground to a halt to deal with what was before me.

But that’s not why I haven’t written.

In January, our Bible study started looking at the idea of fear, or in the plural, fears, as an idol. As we delved in deeper to God’s Word, it became abundantly clear that I had several fears helping me decide what to do and when.

Using the power of distraction and delay, my internal dialogue went something like this:  “You don’t have the time.”  “I’ll get to that later tonight.”  When that worked, my fears started to seize control with doubts that worked like cement on my mind and hands, “What do you have to say?”  “Why would they care?  They don’t want to hear it.”  The final assault came with a full dose of apathy, “Does it really matter anyways?”

Gripped with an ever-growing sense of avoidance, I steered clear of my blog account.  It wasn’t from a lack of encouragement from others as many have told me that they love to read what I have written.  It was this growing, gnawing internal set of fears.

And so God said, “Let’s go deeper.”

Coming away from the passing of my dad, I was eager to share, eager to tell.  But as the days have now turned into months and soon, years, I have found myself grappling with the sting of my own personal loss.  In the beginning all I could see was that he was no longer suffering and while it hurt, I was happy for him that he was in heaven.  Fast forward…

Today, I see my suffering, not his anymore.   I have slowly been unpacking the harder truths of what his loss has meant to me—personally.  In the process, writing seemed too scary, too vulnerable, too exposed, too much work.  It was easier to shut it out than to risk any rejection and pain again.

Tenth Avenue North, a Christian band, has a great line in a song, “Pain has come and taught us to fear.”   I will not kid you into believing that I have never had fears until now.  I have.  But the truth of that line has repeatedly wrung out in my ears.  I see the truth in each of us almost every day.  Many people seeking to avoid and reduce their risk of pain.  Walling off those areas that have been hurt before and pursuing, eagerly, areas where risk is minimal.

Maybe it is a friendship gone wrong.  A divorce and its carnage that no one really wants to sift through. A business or job lost in the tide of the last couple of years.  A family dynamic where the only thing that exists is the habitual duty to gather together despite the underlying tone of resentment and bitterness that everyone seeks to avoid addressing.  The stories and examples go on and on.

When we feel pain, we naturally tend to avoid anything that might bring more to us.  My fears about writing became centered on the idea that doing so might bring more pain to me.  And, honestly, I didn’t want to feel any more pain.

Then God said, “Let’s continue on.  Let’s look at this.  What are your expectations?  Are they realistic?”

It is a funny thing when you ask people how they picture the Garden of Eden.  It usually stirs up images of utopia, the “perfect” place.  When I asked them to describe what they believe Eden contained, most people said “peace, truth, beauty, kindness, God,” and “only good”.  When asked whether they saw anything that they would deem “negative”, most stumbled.  Their initial response was no, but sure enough they would correct themselves with the puzzling fact that the snake was there.  But when they returned to thoughts of Eden, it still wasn’t a place where anyone would expect to find pain, lies, deceit or all that we later saw evolve.    Hmmm…

The snake was there along with temptation…in the most perfect place known to man.  What?  How can perfection contain what most of us consider imperfect?

And God said, “Go deeper.”

Not only was the snake there for all those who want to acknowledge evil as being so cunning (just got to love those who blame evil for our own choices), but there was more.  When God created the garden, He placed two trees in the center.  There for us to see, touch, feel and grab hold of.  There in the garden stood the Tree of Life and the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil.  That was something I had never pondered before.  In the garden, by God’s hand, something I wouldn’t have thought He would have chosen to allow.  A choice that would allow us to feel and see the negative if we so chose.  Well, that shattered my idea of what a perfect world contains!

And He said, “Really?  Finally.”

It was there I realized that my idea of perfection was maybe a little skewed.  That it was mine and not His.  It was based on what I wanted and not what was before me.  I have since found that I am not alone in that unrealistic expectation.  Many others have echoed a similar sentiment as I have shared what I have learned.   No wonder the pursuit of perfection frustrates so many.   To some, it becomes a catalyst for how they judge and treat others.  For others, it causes procrastination, or better put, doing nothing!  Our unrealistic idea of perfection, in essence, becomes our chains.  It binds us to our fears and moves us away from the beauty of who we were created to be and the life God created for us to live.

And so…

What if life has always been meant to contain what we don’t expect, or want, or think that we need?  Pain as well as happiness, laughter as well as sadness, tears and smiles; clean, dirty, busy, quiet, love and hatred.  The list contains it all.  Perfect and imperfect all combined into what makes our lives truly whole.

And what if life always centers around a choice?

A choice to see life for what God has created it to contain…the possibility that we will experience both good and bad.  It is not meant to be all black or white, but filled with all sorts of colors.  We can’t blame Satan that evil was in the garden; God loved us so much He put it there and gave us the choice to obey or disobey what He says is best.  He loved us so much that He didn’t intervene and remind Adam and Eve what not to do.  Yes, choices have consequences, but choice isn’t choice if we do not have the freedom to make it.

We have the choice to embrace what we deem to be imperfect by trusting that it was and is a part of His plan.  This life with its ups and downs, with its positives and negatives, in its beauty and its frightful ugliness; we will sing with joy and in sorrow.  Allowing my fears to navigate my path means I trust them more than Him.

I have known for a long time that I should be writing.

As God so readily pointed out, my fears weren’t realistic.  My idea of perfection, and much of this world’s, isn’t His.  Thankfully, it contains so much more grace and freedom than we would ever think to allow…

“God saw all that He made, and it was very good.”  ~Genesis 1:31