“Again Jesus called the crowd to Him and said, ‘Listen to Me, everyone, and understand this.  Nothing outside a man can make him ‘unclean’ by going into him.  Rather, it is what comes out of a man that makes him ‘unclean.'”  Mark 7:14-16

I sat there looking at those words.  Responsibility for our choices lies within each of us.  There will always be things that happen to each of us that hurt, that scare, that anger, that which generates passion and excitement in us.  Events, people, moments and relationships that invoke in us a wide range of emotions:  love, hate, fear, hope, joy, sadness, anger and happiness.

What goes on around us definitely effects us; it is how we are designed.  And while what we are subjected to may indeed generate feelings, how we choose to respond comes out of us from who we are and not from what is happening to us.  It is there, in the choices of how to respond, that we can become “unclean” in His eyes.

Jesus doesn’t stop there with telling us that it is our heart state that is responsible for our spiritual and emotional condition and responses.  He goes deeper, and shares more.

A list.

In case we can’t figure it out, He lists it out for us.  He lays out a list that takes us back to the root of our responses as well as our emotions.

Evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly.

Yep, that’s the list.  Part of me really didn’t want to go deeper when I hit it.  I knew the basic definition of most of them.  Yet, I learned long ago that God calls us to seek Him and one of the ways is in going deeper in knowledge and understanding.  For me, that often means spending some time in the dictionary trying to discern the full meaning of a word.

So, let me share what I have learned (by the way, all of these definitions come out of Noah Webster’s American Dictionary of the English Language, reprinted from the 1828 version):

Evil Thoughts:

Well, I couldn’t find that specific of a definition so I decided to look up the word “evil”.  In verse 23 of Mark, Jesus says “all these evils come from inside and make a man ‘unclean.'”

“Evil is natural or moral.”

“Natural evil is anything which produces pain, distress, loss or calamity, or which in any way disturbs the peace, impairs the happiness, or destroys the perfection of natural beings.”

“Moral evil is any deviation of a moral agent from the rules of conduct prescribed to him by God, or by a legitimate human authority; or it is any violation of the plain principles of justice and rectitude….All wickedness, all crimes, all violations of law and right are moral evils….”

Further in the definition, it goes on to include injury, “not kindly, not well, not with justice, not happily.”  With all aspects of God’s Word and their meanings, I have found it best to apply them first to myself before applying them to anyone else.  In doing so, I saw that I had not acted kindly when I became so frustrated with my son the night before.  I did not act with justice in that my reaction was greater than it needed to be.  I could see the pain, distress, and injury that my tone of voice and harsh words had caused my son.  Without a doubt, I had clearly affected his happiness and sense of peace–not by correcting him, but in how I choose to treat him with that correction.

Worse yet, we are instructed in the New Testament not to exasperate our children, which was exactly what I had done and thus, violated the rules of conduct that God had given me.  Well, He has given those words to all of us…  Without even realizing it, I had engaged evil thoughts putting them into action when I opened my mouth with that angry tone and sharp words of blame.

Theft can mean a thing stolen.  It didn’t take much thought to understand that, by my choice of behavior, I had chipped away at his trust in me and the safety of our relationship.  And I had taken the peace and happiness of the night without any right.

Greed.  Now greed has two definitions:  “keenness of appetite” and “ardent desire.”  Being entirely honest, I wasn’t sure what ardent meant so I looked it up.  It means “hot, burning, that causes a burning sensation.  Having the quality or appearance of a fire.  Warm or passionate.”  Ugh, my temper is often like a flash fire rising up to burn those too close with words or frustration in my tone very easily conveyed.

Deceit.  “Literally, a catching or ensnaring.  Hence, the misleading of another; the leading of another to believe what is false…”  “In Scripture, that which is obtained by guile, fraud or oppression.”  It was here that I stopped to weigh how that definition might apply to how I handled myself.  It was then that I heard my words very clearly, “If you don’t want to hear me speak to you this way, you should have done what I told you to do when I told you to do it.”

With those words, I blamed Josh for my frustrations and my choice to blow up and speak so harshly.  My message, in that one statement, conveyed that had he handled himself better, I wouldn’t have lost my temper.  In essence, I was leading him to believe that he could control my reactions, which is false.  I am the one responsible for them.  How we respond, as Jesus tells us, comes from within us and not from outside of us.  My choice to lecture, yell or become angry is solely my choice.  His behavior has consequences for him, but so does mine and that accountability starts with the ownership that I am the one in control of myself, all of myself, including my tone, choice of words and the sound level of my voice.

In that last part of that definition involving guile and oppression, I decided to dig deeper.  Guile is to “disguise craftily”.  How many of us do this?  We craft our response to avoid blame and responsibility by disguising it as the other person’s fault?  In it we end up showing duplicity in that we are implying if they did what we wanted, all would be well, when really maybe if we behaved ourselves better, things wouldn’t become full of frustration and angst…

Oppression also held some interesting insight as it often involves the “imposition of unreasonable burdens”, “severity”, or “overburdened”.  There appears to be a careful balance in the expectations we should have with one another as the definition goes on to include words like “depression and dullness of spirit; a sense of heaviness.”  When we impose unreasonable expectations or “burdens” on our children or even other adults, are we setting the stage for weighing down their hearts with hopelessness and depression?

Lewdness.  It means licentiousness and shamelessness.  Licentiousness means “excessive indulgence, contempt of the just restraint of the law…decorum.  Unrestrained.”  Looking at my words and tone, I hadn’t cared about restraint.  I had barely been able to restrain my voice from yelling.  It was becoming clear that what I really wanted was my way–the things done that I had asked–and I was tired of being kind and patient about it.

Slander.  “False talk…tending to injure the reputation of another by lessening him in the esteem of another.”  In this I recognized that the blame game that I saw in deceit had turned to slander as I started to rant about the house never staying clean, always having to pick up after them, and the other callous words that started to roll off my tongue with little restraint.  Those words clearly contained the potential to lessen and diminish his self-esteem.

And why were they false as they seemed to carry some truth about his lack of timely response?  I had already laid out consequences for that lack of responsiveness when he stumbled over something he had forgotten to do.  At that point, I had quickly lost sight of the truth when I allowed that mistake to trigger an avalanche of my frustration.

Truth be told, when my house gets into a messy state, a large part of that falls on me and the things demanding my time at that moment.  As I sat there pondering this, I realized that I could much more peacefully assign chores and work quietly to resolve my frustrations.  I could develop a plan of action to head these frustrations off in advance instead of using words of condemnation to accomplish the goal of chores when I was tired of asking.  Again, I had chosen this negative response instead of seeking a different solution.

Arrogance.  You will love this.  “The act or quality of taking much upon one’s self.”  It also means “presumption.”  I immediately recognized that the stress and build up had begun inside of me long before I lost my temper.  In part, because I had put too much on my list to do.  I had taken much upon myself, voluntarily.  Ownership is important here.  I was the one who made the list, and worse yet, as each task got marked off, I would eagerly add on one or two more.  I hadn’t been respecting my limitations, and in my greed to keep accomplishing this long overdue list, I kept adding to it.  And instead of realizing that we could have coasted to the end of summer at the same gingerly pace that had been our peaceful existence this season, I hurriedly tried to cram in those last few things.

But let us not lose the word “presumption” in the midst of this tale, because it played a vital role in fueling my fire.  You see, I never even gave Josh a chance to explain his forgetfulness.  Nope, in all frustration, I stopped him mid-sentence presuming that his actions were a vile act of disobedience and an utter expression of disrespect.  This beautiful young man standing before me with the heart of gold I had convinced myself in the heat of the moment was purposefully disregarding his mother and his duties.  Oh, the irony of my thoughts…

Though last, it is not the least of these, as Jesus rounds out this list with Folly.  “It is a weakness of intellect; a weak or absurd act not highly criminal…any conduct contrary to the laws of God and man; sin…that which violates moral precepts and dishonors the offender.”

It is interesting that He ends the list with this definition.  How many times do we disregard looking at our sin because as absurd as it was, it doesn’t amount to something highly offensive in our minds?  Do we understand that our sin, these sins, dishonor ourselves?

Now at this point, you might be thinking: “Are you serious?”  Yes.  Yes, I am.  Sin is something not to be taken lightly, and lately, it seems like it is the one thing so easily glossed over in life.  We look to follow reasonable and justified rules that make us look better to others, and yet, we often fail to see where we fall so incredibly short in the areas that truly matter.  In this current state of time, it seems that very few want to speak of the idea that there are rights and wrongs–especially the ones that so often impact each other.  And, especially not those that we might be guilty of.

But we are not alone in the disposition to ignore the deeper application of God’s Word to our lives.  Jesus’ disciples had heard Him speak His response to the Pharisees about uncleanliness and had asked Him to explain further.  He asked them, “Are you so dull?”, before He repeated the instruction.  It was because of this dullness that He gave them this list.

We, too, tend to be a little dull.  A little slow to the idea that we are really not perfect, even when we give a superficial nod to our imperfection.  Here the Pharisees had admitted that they could be “unclean” if they didn’t wash carefully.  You know, imperfection was possible–maybe a slip up every now and again.  But Jesus exposed them for their superficial piety.  He doesn’t do this to show them up; His point is exactly why He went to the cross for us.  We are sinners in ways we can’t even see.  I am; you are.  We need Him in a desperate, blinded-kind-of-way…with deep-rooted sins that we are not even fully aware of.

And while we will never be sin-free, He calls us repeatedly to look deeper in our hearts and root out these sins.  We are encouraged time and time again to follow Him, to become more like Him, to lead lives of righteousness (note not self-righteousness), and that doesn’t come from eyes and ears closed to those problem areas that need to be changed in ourselves.

This list wasn’t meant to cause me despair.  God leading me to this moment wasn’t meant to put me in a state of self-pity and panic, though it deeply saddened me.  Nor was He asking me to pick up the mantel and play a martyr saying it was all my fault and I was all to blame.  He wanted me to see the truth about myself and my actions in the midst of the entirety of the situation.  Josh didn’t need to hear words justifying, denying or overly blaming myself.  Trust me, most can spot insincerity and avoidance of blame in all its shapes and sizes.  So can God.

No, God’s Word is truth that is meant to help root out those things inside us that entangle us in patterns of behavior that hurt and damage.  One of the definitions of discipline is to instruct and teach.  While this list was and is painful for me to look at and admit–and maybe you will catch glimpses of yourself in it–better is His instruction than stagnating in my sins.  On what started out as a glorious morning, I indeed found myself incredibly grateful for God’s timeliness and the penetrating depth of His Word in my soul; its reach coming to my very day and circumstances.  And what does it truly contain?  Hope.  Hope that with His help, I can now see what I could not see just moments before–where I was “unclean”.  Where I truly needed the flow and movement of a million little droplets of water to wash away my sin in the mercy of His light and forgiveness…

Do you know what “unclean” actually means?  It means “foul with sin; dirty; filthy.”  Looking up foul, it means “covered with or containing extraneous matter which is injurious, noxious or offensive.”  It involves being “polluted, impure”, “defiling”, “wicked”, “unfair”, “hateful”, “ugly”, “coarse”, “gross”, “full of weeds”, “not favorable or safe”.  By definition, we should want to wash ourselves clean from this state, but these aren’t things that just wash off our hands with a little bit of ceremonial water…Jesus is speaking to a deeper cleansing.

Think about it.  I know I am.  It is not this world that we have to worry about “making” us unclean.  It is all about what resides inside of us, in our hearts.  It is why His truth always changes, always makes new, always restores and rebuilds, always loves, always cleans…we’ve all got things that need to change in each of our hearts.  Trust in the light of His Word to show you what you might not notice on your own.

“My prayer is not that You take them out of the world but that You protect them from the evil one.  They are not of the world, even as I am not of it.  Sanctify them by the truth; Your Word is truth.”  ~John 17:15-17

“You, O Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light.”  ~Psalm 18:28

This morning I stepped outside to set down my dog’s food bowl.  As I walked toward the end of our deck, I was amazed at what I saw.  The sun, with its end-of-summer angle, was rising, but was being blocked from direct view by my neighbor’s house.  Standing there, in the morning light, beautiful rays of sunshine cascaded into my yard.  In those rays were millions of tiny sparkling droplets of water floating in the air.  They hung effortlessly in the air movements of a tender breeze, twisting and bending, in a way that was breathtaking.  Something so subtle that without the sunshine, I may have never noticed.

As I watched the water droplets rise and fall, the thought came to me that without that perfect light in that moment, I would never have seen them.  Those brilliant rays were what were illuminating those tiny, little circles dotting the breeze.  As it shined through, what was once not regularly visible now was.

This illumination brought to mind and best describes a moment I had with God about two weeks ago.  An interaction that seemed to be not all that different from the rest of my day until God’s Word shined into my heart and on to my motives and actions.

…

This summer has been quiet for us.  A much needed break from the pace of the last four to five years.  Please don’t misunderstand me.  We’ve been blessed with lots of good things, but have also had our share of heartache and pain.  So as our summer schedule fell into place, a pleasant surprise revealed that there were much less demands on our time than in years past.

This new quiet space opened up opportunities for us to work on things that had long been waiting.  Rooms that needed to be painted.  Closets that needed to be filtered through.  Mostly smaller tasks and yet, they yielded a refreshing sense of peace and order to areas that had long been calling to be tamed.

It was in one of those areas that I decided to set out a new spot on the web for Families Building Faith.  After prayer and a hefty nudge, I decided to create a blog similar to the one here so that people could easily find and learn about what FBF is and does.  In a way, its own space.  So, one late summer afternoon, at the computer, I sat and contemplated what should this space look like?

I wrestled with different themes and their associated costs.  As I kept playing with them, nothing felt quite right.  Before I knew it, we were to dinner time.  So I unplugged and went downstairs to settle into our evening routine.  All through dinner, I found myself a little short and a little stressed.  Everywhere I looked there seemed so many tasks looming as summer was coming to a close, and I could see in my mind’s eye that not all of them would get done.

Afterwards, we sat down to watch some TV together.  While part of me really wanted to watch the new episodes of our favorite shows, there was this nagging task list still in my vision.  Honestly, the organizing part of me really wanted to tackle them.  Physically I could feel the weight of it as I sunk into our couch.

Now I know I am not the only mom out there to become less than what I want to be at times, and so…as the night wore on and the tasks bounced around in my head, I started to get grumpy.  And then, a little snappy.  And as the third round of asking my son to get things done so that we could head upstairs (and I could get back to building that web space), I became mad and began to lecture.

“If you had just done what I asked in the first place!”

And as I grew more frustrated…

“If you don’t want me to talk this way, you should have done what I asked you to do when I asked you to do it!”

The worse part wasn’t really the words (they rang with quite a bit of truth); instead, it was my tone–a voice full of frustration and distaste.  A tone fraught with anger and meanness.  Sharp words designed to motivate and make things happen as well as to convey dissatisfaction.  So, things were accomplished, but sadly, with only the smallest inkling that something wasn’t right with my handling of the situation.

You see, relationships are a funny dance.  We have these moments where things get on our nerves and we lash out, but we and the relationship, much like a rubber band, return quickly to its original shape.  As I reflected the next day, I realized that both Josh and I desired to get past that moment without really addressing it.  I had a little idea that I had hurt his feelings with my tone, but I didn’t seek to redress it.  Neither of us wanted to discuss his mistakes or mine, even though we both ended up seeking each other out to talk.  Just not about the frustration or hurt that had occurred.  In all frankness, we avoided that conversation all the while trying to restore our relationship despite the awkwardness of the lingering hurts.

Honestly, I am not sure you can ever really address wrong that way…avoidance never tends to heal anything.

So we aimlessly chatted and eventually, he went off to bed.  I stayed up for a while longer, but of course, I was no closer to being done with any of those tasks…least of all, that web page.

The next morning, I awoke.  Out the door to walk the dogs I headed.  The sun was rising beautifully in front of me, and the air was perfectly crisp.  It was, by all accounts, a glorious start to the day.  In my head, wanting to honor God, I started to pray.  Usually I try to follow the flow of praising God for being God, confessing my shortcomings and sin, thanking Him for all that He has done and will do, and then moving towards needed supplications for whoever or whatever comes to mind.  As I came upon identifying my sin, I couldn’t think of any…I walked a few more feet and I don’t remember being able to think of a single one. That should have been my first clue, but hurriedly, I moved on…remember I had other things to focus on!

As my brain so often does, my task list eventually came to light, especially the idea of what was the right way to build that web page.  And though I knew it would seem trivial to the world, I wanted it to be “right” by Him.  I have long heard the argument that God isn’t in the small things, but have long since learned and seen that He is indeed present in all things, big and small.  So many times, with both FBF and my own personal life, God has shown Himself faithful in the littlest details that such an argument no longer carries weight for me.  It was there in that knowledge that I wanted to be cautious and prayerful about what was being developed for FBF.  So as I rounded my neighborhood, I left the details of the cost and how in prayer asking God for some insight and confirmation on the best path.

My feet eventually came back to my front door, and once inside, I sat down to spend some time in God’s Word, hoping to learn something new for the day.   It was then that I opened to Mark 7:1-23.  Here’s my condensed version of what I read:

Some of the Pharisees and teachers of the law had come to Jesus and noticed that a few of His disciples had not washed their hands before eating.  It was a Jewish tradition to wash your hands and other items before you ate.  So they asked Jesus, “‘Why don’t Your disciples live according to the tradition of the elders instead of eating their food with “unclean” hands?'” (Mark 7:5).

Much to their surprise, Jesus had a lot to say.  He spoke to them of how they were focusing on their own traditions and rules before men instead of what truly made them unclean before God.  Remember, they were the ones who started the whole “unclean” conversation.  Jesus pointed out that it really isn’t about your outward appearance of religion, but more about the inward status of your heart that makes you clean or unclean.

“‘Listen to Me, everyone, and understand this.  Nothing outside a man can make him “unclean” by going into him.  Rather, it is what comes out of a man that makes him “unclean.”‘” (verses 14-15)

And He goes on:

“‘Don’t you see that nothing that enters a man from the outside can make him “unclean”?  For it doesn’t go into his heart but into his stomach, and then out of his body.'” (verse 18)

“He went on:  ‘What comes out of a man is what make him “unclean.”  For from within, out of men’s hearts, come evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance, and folly.  All these evils come from inside and make a man “unclean.”‘”  (verses 20-22)

So there I sat wondering exactly how could this Scripture apply to myself?  I mean I had nothing to confess earlier that morning, right?  And yet, I knew He was saying something important.  Trusting that God knows our every thought and prayer, all of a sudden understanding came to me that made me want to shutter.

Here I had spent the better part of morning (and the evening before) worrying about FBF “looking” right.  While washing hands can prevent uncleanliness, Jesus’ point went way deeper…it doesn’t prevent the contamination inside of us that often results from sin and its correlating stress, guilt and pain that we carry as a result of such choices.  I had been so worried about trying to build the best “look” to FBF’s page that I totally missed how I really looked before Him and Josh when I became short, mean, demanding and unmerciful the night before–the results of willingly engaging in sinful behavior.

As I started to contemplate just what He was saying, I found myself quickly justifying my sins with the question:  “Why was I so snappy?”  Yes, I had easily and quickly turned my focus to the “causes” that led me to those sins, or so I thought…

Before I knew it I had written down four different reasons all ready and willing to validate my behavior.  But somehow, that just didn’t seem right.  Thinking on the idea that what makes us “unclean” comes from inside us, I decided to stop in my tracks and turn away from the excuses.  I needed to admit and face that how I treated my son with frustration, sharpness and a mean tone came from within me.  It was a choice I made.  Nothing forced me.  Yes, I could justify it away if I wanted to, but that really was too easy of a road to take.  Jesus was pointing to something more…

My concern and focus that morning on making sure the outside things were “correct” had missed entirely the things that weren’t “right” in God’s eyes that were going on inside of me.  My heart’s status shouldn’t and can’t depend on my external circumstances.  What comes out of me comes from within me; it is the result of what is occurring inside of me.

The Bible note in the NIV seemed to confirm my thoughts:  “Jesus replaced the normal Jewish understanding of defilement with the truth that defilement comes from an impure heart, not the violation of external rules. Fellowship with God is not interrupted by unclean hands or food, but by sin.”  New International Version (NIV) Study Bible, Bible note to Mark 7:21-23.

Pause.  Hmmm…and maybe a little more than just an ouch.

I suddenly felt embarrassed by my lack of humility and unwillingness to see my sin that morning as I walked with God telling Him I couldn’t think of anything.  Really, really…I couldn’t think of anything?  I couldn’t remember the pained look on my son’s face or his hands going to his ears when my voice began to rise.  I couldn’t remember that even though I didn’t want to admit I had not handled myself correctly, I found myself wanting to comfort him and reassure him without apologizing for the verbal hurt I had inflicted.  And all of sudden, I wasn’t so blind anymore. It was all there before me…

Ironically, I found myself telling God how truly sorry I was for the ugliness of my sin that had been shielded and cloaked in parental justifications.  I had gone to bed easily the night before, and with no regret, I walked my entire walk not considering the impact of my choices less than twelve hours before.  Much like the Pharisee, I had willingly concerned myself with appearances that could be seen, and eagerly swept under the carpet the inward issues that I didn’t care to deal with nor desired to learn to control.

So with, pencil in hand and a much more willing heart, I prayed for more wisdom to understand better the lesson and the list that Jesus was laying before me…

“He went on:  What comes out of a man is what makes him ‘unclean.'”  Mark 7:20

“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

“Where can I go from Your Spirit?  Where can I flee from Your Presence?  If I go up to the heavens, You are there; if I make my bed in the depths, You are there.  If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there Your hand will guide me, Your right hand will hold me fast.

If I say, ‘Surely darkness will hide me and the light become night around me,’ even the darkness will not be dark to You, for darkness is as light to You.

…

All the days ordained for me were written in Your book before one of them came to be.”  Psalm 139: 7-12, 16

Standing in my driveway talking with a gentleman who ministers to souls locked away from where society can see them, a question arose.  It was the Tuesday after the mass shooting in Connecticut.  The tragedy had captured all that I know in the difficult quandary of how…how could something so horrific happen?

The question being, “Where was God in this picture?”

That was what these young men and women had been asking him.  It was what I heard from youth struggling to understand and feel safe.  The challenge of “If you say God is real, then where was He that morning?  Why didn’t He stop it?”

My heart felt for him because sometimes in this line of work…when things go wrong, really wrong, you are asked why?  For me, I have often found that honest answers of “I don’t know the reason for that” work better than anything else.  More times than not, people can respect honest humility over the trappings of religious theory.

But all night long the question plagued me…

I had seen it on the face of my son.  I saw it in the heart of my mother.  It was on the faces of the staff and students at an elementary school…the underlying confusion, pain and concern.  While at an outreach, I had heard it in the words of those who humbly asked that Connecticut and those families be prayed for instead of them despite their dire situations.

Sadly I had heard it said from those on both sides of the spectrum. Those who don’t believe…well, this proves there is no God.  And from those too eager for God’s judgment…that He was not present because of our “sin”.  Really?  That is the best both sides can do?  It is just the same old, same old.  Denial and condemnation, evil’s two greatest tools.

Honestly, how we love to trivialize God when we have no answers…when we see the unexplainable and cannot humble ourselves to trust that we truly don’t know it all, let alone the whys.  While there was so much bad and so much pain, can we not find any good in this situation?  That is what we choose when we say He doesn’t exist.  And for those who believe in God but say that He wasn’t present because of the sins of our nation–the last time I checked, He died on the cross for us despite our sins being present.  Sin doesn’t stop Him from being present; it is why He came.

But what really bothered me the most was that I could clearly see Him there…

I saw Him moving ahead of this crisis, when the principal hired in two years ago and placed a top-notch security system in place at the school to protect the children.  Those measures slowed the shooter down, alerted the police, and silenced the issue could they have done more.  Those measures alone, that wisdom and inspiration, probably saved many more lives than we will ever know…

I saw Him in the hallway as the principal and school psychologist, with an almost supernatural amount of courage and bravery, left the shelter of their meeting room and  threw themselves at a shooter armed with a rifle that would unquestioningly kill them.  It was there that I believe God met their hearts to give them an undeniable amount of strength to face death so willingly despite understanding that doing so would mean leaving their loved ones behind…

I saw Him in the office inspiring someone to turn on the intercom so that others would know the danger that was headed their way, so that children would know their silence and obedience to their teacher’s instructions would save lives…

I saw Him giving courage and speed to the janitor who ran through the hallways alerting others that there was a shooter in the building, putting himself or herself at risk being in the open instead of vacating and hiding.  The path was being paved to bring this choice of harm to an end…

I saw Him in the wisdom, grace, and selflessness of several teachers who did all they could to protect the little ones He had graced their lives with. Granting them quick thinking, discernment and bravery to stay calm enough to hide them well…especially the heart and hands of the teacher who stood up bravely to the shooter telling him that her children were in the gym to divert him away from the classroom…there 20 lives or more were saved in those words, those cupboards and closets–in that wisdom…

I heard Him in the whispers of a teacher who cupped each child’s face in her hands and told them how much she loved them because that was the last thing she was afraid they would hear.  Oh, how the bells of heaven must have rung that someone in such a horrifying situation would listen and know to speak of love at that very moment…

I saw Him in the bravery of the first responders who came in numbers willing to give their lives to end the madness, to save those who were wounded, to hold those who had or were departing, to comfort those scared beyond measure, to do all that they could despite the tragedy, pain and trauma that laid in front of them…

I saw Him in the responses of schools and hospitals as they did all they could do to protect those in their care…frightened but continuing the work in front of them with grace, discernment, and focus…

I saw Him in the face of Sandy Hook’s funeral director in his desire to confirm what God wanted each of these families to know…their loved one was special…to this world and to Him…

I saw Him in the kindness of a reporter who gave the friends of the shooter’s mother the chance to speak of her.  To do so without quick judgment and condemnation, allowing us to see something other than our fear and all-too-easy answers…

I saw Him in the words and the faith of a father who had lost his little girl…when he told the family of the shooter how his heart had broken for them too…showing us all compassion, forgiveness and a humility that rose above the clamor to hate and condemn…

I saw Him in horror of a nation that has fallen on its knees in pain and agony wanting so desperately to comfort those that lost so much that day…

I see it in all the hearts that are rending at this tragedy, who are turning to prayer, and seeking Him for understanding instead of turning away from Him…

You see…life always comes back to a choice.  It began in the garden with a tree and His instruction, but what many miss is that forbidden fruit also came the ability to choose.  And…almost always, our choices impact others…

Some for the good and some for the bad.  And though God designed us with that capability of choosing, that tremendous power to act for the good or for the bad, that choice–our choices and the choice of that shooter–doesn’t mean He is not present.

Always He is.

His Name means “I am”.  “I am” means present.  It is the verb that means current, at this time, in the here and now.  He is always here.

And it is there that the hardest question lies…what about those 20 children?  Those young souls that had to face the unthinkable, the unbearable, and the horror of it all.  What about them?

To me, that is where the toughest part of faith lies…for it is the unknowable.  Where, at first glance, horror, pain, and grief seem to reign.  It holds the power to make every person, parent and child fear.  It snatches and grabs at our peace, even our faith, causing us to doubt and question…was He present in such agonizing craziness?

But…if we are willing, can we see Him there also?  Can we find it in ourselves to believe and trust that He was right there with them.  Comforting them, calming their fear and anxiety, holding them fast in His right hand and leading them home…

Is it our vision skewed by fear and tragedy that has blurred the understanding that God is always present and always in control?  No matter how hard that shooter tried he could not separate those children from the loving arms of God.  He could not trap them in that fear, horror and pain forever…for while he may have been armed to end life, he did not and does not hold the keys to heaven or hell.  Not for those children and not for us…

So let us not give him such power…let us trust God that in that darkest moment, His light shined brighter, His peace filled 26 hearts, and that His love has and will continue to connect them with their loved ones for now and forevermore…

He was present, is present and will always be present in all things.  Choose to trust Him in this moment.  For it is the gift–the choice–He has given each of us…

“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 understood it.”  John 1:3-5

All weekend long the word “turn” repeatedly made its way into my thoughts.

My sister, Rebecca, once pointed out to me that I have a tendency to turn away when I am mad, and in that turning, it hurts.

Over the last couple of weeks, I have spent a lot of time reflecting inwardly on something that had really bothered me.  In the beginning, I was stuck dwelling on just the situation, the “impact” of what had happened.  And then, out of the corner of my eye, I caught myself “turning” away from that person.  Quietly, I thought of my sister’s observation and began to ponder what that truly meant.

As I contemplated the series of events that set this hurt into motion, I decided to become more purposeful in watching myself…to see what I was doing and how.  What was I turning towards?  What was I turning away from?  And just as importantly, when and why?

I found that it is very easy to turn away from pain, especially when the pain is deep and penetrating.  I know I am not alone in this.  Oddly, I have counselled many to not turn away from the painful moments of life and relationships as it is a very common approach for many of us…to  move away too quickly.  But pushing away seems so natural; our first knee-jerk reaction to something that hurts.  It is so innate that I wondered is that maybe how we are designed?

What I also found is that it is incredibly hard to turn away from love.  Those feelings don’t just go away easily even though they may fade into the background during certain moments.  That if you are willing to see love, you will not be able to turn away from it.  That it burns brightly in the heart despite pain, hurt, and sadness, and even when the mind doesn’t want to engage it.  That if you listen carefully and pay attention, you will find it there waiting to shine and be restored. But, as with all of life, there is always a choice…do you choose to see it?  If you choose to deny love and move away from it, then much like a small flame, it can flutter out in the midst of your movement, only to be left behind in a pile of ashes.

One thing that I hold in amazement is that God has not only created our world and everything in it, but He has also given mankind the study of science to help bring about better order and understanding.  I like that, oftentimes, science can give us even bigger insights into ourselves and the world around us.  I don’t see God and science as mutually exclusive as some do, but instead, I believe they are working together for those willing to see.  That, as if in a dance, God brings us illumination through the art of science so that we may that bring light into this world in a way that dazzles the mind, the body and the soul.  So I wondered, is there something in science that might help explain this natural tendency to turn within us, the turn I was feeling in myself?

Well, lo and behold, I believe there is!  I spent some time in a physics classroom of sorts strongly pulled to learn more about the laws of motion and how we actually physically turn.  I hope I don’t lose you here (and I can’t imagine I will as this is physics in its simplest and least complex form if I even dare to call it that), but let me–unprofessionally, of course–share a little with you about what I learned about turning.  According to Newton, Isaac Newton–a legendary scientist and believer in Christ, once an object is set into motion (I like to think of our lives as such since they are always moving forward), it will continue in motion at the same speed in the same direction for…potentially…ever.  It is only when a force, an outward force, is applied to it that an object will either reduce or increase speed, stop or turn.

So basically, here we are chugging along in space on our paths and it all seems like it is going along smoothly and steadily.  How many of you have been there?  Days run into one another, and everything has its routine.  There’s a state of ease to some degree and a sense of calm.  The world seems pleasant and all is right.

You may not even have realized you were on such a straight path until you were knocked into a state of fluctuation.  Maybe a job loss, a death of someone dear, an illness, a car accident, a tragedy of violence, or something–something even as simple as a painful or emotionally wounding comment; whatever it might be, it catches us off guard and knocks our world a little out of balance.

I think, my friends, this is the point–this point of impact with an outside event–where we have the potential to be sent into a turn.  You see, when an object has force applied to it by another object, there will be a reaction of some sort.  If the object is not stopped, it responds by going in the opposite direction.  Amazingly, while it might not complete a full circle, a turn is almost always a part of the movement and it always has a potential to become a circle.

Now guess what way an outside force causes an object to turn naturally?  Inward.  Yep, it is theory of centripetal force.  The natural tendency of an object to turn towards its center.  I think this might help explain why we have a natural tendency to turn into ourselves and away from another in the face of something upsetting, shocking or hurtful…from a force applied, we move in the opposite direction.  While there might be an initial reaction to the collision, it is likely that most of us will turn inwards towards ourselves for protection, restabilizing and comfort.  I believe this is very much how we are designed.

But do you want to know the really mind-blowing part?  When we turn, we actually accelerate into the turn…the turn inwards.  So I wonder if that is where we get stuck sometimes?  What was designed to help us avoid or deal with an intrusion from another source, also has the potential to send us into a spiral of sorts that draws us inward more.  Think about it, when you are hurt, don’t you normally draw inwards?  Let’s just look at something simple.  Someone does something hurtful.  How often do you really confront them right then and there?  Or do you turn away, regroup and not share the pain until you are safely away from that situation?  When you feel like you are in a safe place where you can process the event without the infliction of more pain.

So it appears that we all have a natural tendency to pull away from painful conversations, comments, events, or perceived hurts.  Nature appears to have designed me such that I will not naturally move towards a situation that has inflicted pressure or pain on me.  I am guessing neither will you.  That all of us, whether apparent on the surface or not, will move away from that force as it is part of the natural order to things.  And even those that appear to confront on the surface will not be able to resist the pull that we are naturally designed to move inwardly to safeguard ourselves.  That even they will experience some sort of turn in their hearts, thoughts or attitudes that draws them away from those that they perceive to have inflicted the hurt.

So how does that apply to myself?

Well, my sister was partially right.  I truly do have a tendency, at times…oftentimes…to retreat after an upsetting situation.  To turn away from what I perceive to be painful and frustrating.  Don’t get me wrong, in anger, I can confront.  In justice, I can sometimes step out and step in.  But in the hard parts of working through relationships that are experiencing difficulty, I am finding that I do often step away, turn away.  And sometimes, it is easy to follow that turn inwards and let it accelerate…because it feels so natural.

However, with a new understanding that this is a natural response, I am now looking for more clues on how to better navigate such impacts.  Much like an icy road and the spiral that can result from overturning, I want to learn how to turn just slightly enough to rebalance my life, my thoughts or my heart.  To embrace a turn as part of the response, but not so much that it leads to too much distance.

Once I sat with Josh at a meeting on learning how to fly remote-control airplanes.  I was struck by something the instructor said.  Each plane has this small remote box with often two even smaller handles on it.  It is by those handles that you control the plane–up, down, left, right.  He told the group that the natural tendency of everyone is to push the control handles sharply one way or another, with big movements–pushing hard, instead of softly.  But gently was really the key.  It is in the soft, gentle movements of the pilot that the plane flies the best and in the most consistent order.

That to fly the plane smoothly, the kids needed to train their fingers and their responses to move in small measures.  That it only takes a small amount of force to change the direction of the plane, and that gentle response would be the opposite of what they would naturally want to do.  Amazingly, he was right!  We watched many a child and adult crash a plane in an over-movement of their fingers or too dramatic of a response.

All of this is showing me that I need to pay special attention to my responses, to my inclinations, and hence, most likely, my turns.  Realizing that I will naturally accelerate into my choices based on the measure of self-protection needed in direct relation to the force that I encounter.  But now, with this understanding, I can be much more purposeful about watching, waiting and finding the patience to learn how to counteract those forces best, so that I can have better control of where I end up.

That I am not just shoved into some circular pattern of frustration, anger, fear or regret that I have no control over.  Honestly, we all have control.  Some things we can’t stop from happening to us, but truly we can learn how to better control how we turn and who we turn towards.  Denying how we are made won’t help us make those decisions, but trying to understand our choices will lead us to make better ones.

If you remember, an object once bumped has the potential to complete a circle just from that impact.  Guess where that leads you?  Right back to the point of impact. I have to smile when I think about the design.  I don’t think God really wants us to “circle around” those impacts, though He will let us if we insist!

Ask the children of Israel why they wandered in the desert for so many years…wasn’t it, in essence, because they refused to trust God and move forward, thus, circling a land that should have only taken forty days to cross.  Acting in denial, or accelerating into our set ways, patterns, or fears will only lead us back to what caused them.  We are meant to learn from those impacts.  And who knows..maybe that is how we get stuck on infinite loops of pain with those events we fail to process through, never forgiving the impacts or the wrongs.  Continually revisiting the past, the same land that we’ve seen before, but never being able to see beyond it.

The beauty is that the impact doesn’t always have to end up in a circle.  It is all in how the wheel is handled.  It is in the turn that I believe God wants us to turn towards Him, those we love, and yes, even those we don’t.  While turning inward might help ease the pain for a moment, long-term it sets the stage for damage and distance…something that is even harder and longer to overcome.

Thinking on all of this, I know that’s not where I want to be.  So yes, I am now gratefully watching my patterns, checking my responses, and patiently waiting with eyes open for new ways to turn in gentle, soft motions that correct my path only as much as is truly needed.  Yes, inward is okay, but only for a moment…let us all remember that the next time we are impacted with an unexpected opportunity to turn.  Let us not become cursed by going in circles that lead to only more pain and separation, but let us turn towards one another seeking to get back on the straight path.

“He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and the hearts of the children to their fathers; or else I will come and strike the land with a curse.”  ~Malachi 4:6

“Love never fails.”  ~1 Corinthian 13:5

“Love is not proud.

Love does not boast.

Love after all matters the most.”

It was about this time last year when the fields had a golden hue to them.  The sun was still warm, and yet, there was a change in the air.  I remember standing at the gate of my dad’s garden.  This big, billowing garden that used to be our horse arena when I was a teen.  Around and around, I would ride my horse, Buffy, training for our horse shows.

Much time has passed since then.  The horse shows ended as I went off to college, got married, and entered law school.  My dad, in his wisdom and love of gardening, turned the riding arena into our family garden shortly after his grandchildren entered into the picture.

It became our ritual to plant it each spring.  He loved the garden and loved what it yielded.  I learned from him how to can tomatoes, and in the years just prior to his passing, I tried my hand at pickling and salsa.  He loved my pickles, and loved that I was interested in what he loved.

Feeling the warmness of the gate in my hand in the late summer sun, I stood there quietly with tears streaming down my face.  How did we get here?

“Love does not run.

Love does not hide.

Love does not keep locked inside.”

You see, a year ago, right before Labor Day, we had arrived back at his home after weeks at Mayo Clinic.  There we had learned that he was dying.  It was there in a hallway, in my pain, a song spoke quietly to my heart.  As I stood at the fence, listening to that song and looking at the garden, I wept.

It’s funny how we are designed.  Our bodies–they are amazing things.  We are so much more than our minds can comprehend.  You see, when things are scary, uncertain, painful–especially when painful–our bodies detail all of the surrounding information for future reference.  It is how sometimes people get trapped with their memories after experiencing something particularly tragic, like a soldier watching a friend die in a battle.  But it also happens in the tragedies of life that befall all of us.

“Love is the river that flows through.”

It has been awhile since I have listened, truly listened, and thought upon that song.  However, the other day, I saw it on my playlist and decided to stop hedging around it. I pushed play wanting to remember my dad.  In fact, I played it over and over again while on a walk.  What had once been a tremendous comfort to me, now thrust me back into the past as if it was only yesterday.  I could feel the warm fence.  I could see the yellow flowers.  I could smell the end of summer.  As these moments danced in front of me, I knew the song and the memory were beckoning me to draw closer.

So I hurried home feeling a strong desire to write.  With pen in hand, words just flowed out and then…then came the tears, the sobs and the pain.  I cried so hard that I think I startled my husband and son.  They both came in to check on me, but quietly disappeared when I did not look up.

“Love will sustain.

Love will provide.

Love will not cease at the end of time.”

Knowing that grief and moments like this have a purpose, I waited patiently to understand the pain.  And there, in the corner of my mind, sat my father’s hospital bed.  I wrestled away from it for the moment, not wanting to look, but I knew it wasn’t going anywhere until I came back to it.

You see, I didn’t like what it represented.  This medical necessity that he needed for the days ahead, in all its cold metal frame and flimsy, thin mattress, stated what none of us wanted to see.  Now–and yes, back then–I couldn’t bear to look at it.  I could do what I had to do to put it where it needed to be, but stare it…absorb it…accept it?  I couldn’t.

“Love will protect.

Love always hopes.

Love still believes when you don’t.”

To me, it spoke sharply and cruelly of the end…something I didn’t want to believe….not then, and yes, sometimes, even not now.  The coldness, the smallness, the lack of warmth or comfort no matter how we tried to disguise it–it spoke of pain, no more hope, and loss.  For me personally, I could barely breathe looking at it.  It smacked of the realization that there was no way for me to stop the train that was coming down the tracks to pick up my dad.  Darn, that bed for what it represented, for being so blatantly harsh in its demands!

So in my desire to escape the reality of what it was screaming, I pulled out my headphones and turned on my I-pod.  I needed to shut out the message.  And there waiting was that song.  The one that had comforted me all the way home from Mayo; the one that spoke loudly of my dad’s very fiber and being.  But…much to my surprise and horror, it pushed me over the edge.  As soon as I could, almost immediately, I fled my parents’ room.  Out the door, through the living room, looking at no one, I fled outside. I had to flee or I would have been reduced to a weeping pile on the floor, and I couldn’t…just couldn’t do that.

“When my heart won’t make a sound.

When I can’t turn back around.

When the sky is falling down.

Nothing is greater than this

Greater than this.”

So there, I stood at the garden.  This place where dad and I had delighted to be, listening to a song that now suddenly seemed to speak also of the end.  Looking down, dandelions, in a gentle breeze, waved with their full blooms slowly releasing the last remnants of their very being.  In front of me, the tall grass was bending under the weight of a summer of over growing.  The very bottoms of their leaves turning a deep yellow and orange.  Not far away were flowers spent with only a bloom or two left.  There, at that moment, the world and this song seemed to speak of what was coming; what would not survive much longer; and yet, of what does not fail even though it appears to be the end of its time.

Looking back, almost a year later, these painful memories of the days before his passing creep back in like the sunshine through a kitchen window on a late summer afternoon.  Without warning, they tumble in.  Interestingly, though, I am finding in the ruins of this pain…that my dad’s love is still very much here.  Sifting through the hurt and the memories of those days, I can feel it strongly.  Maybe even more strongly than before.  I have not found my love for him to have diminished either.  That despite this pain, his love is rising to the surface as this grief passes through.  Truly, his love has not ceased despite the end of his time.

“Love is right here.

Love is alive.

Love is the way, the truth, the life.”

Knowing my dad, he would want each of us to realize that love…it is the key…within us and in each other.  Once I had asked my dad how he could tolerate someone who treated him and those he loved so poorly, and he said “Because I love her.”  It was literally love that allowed him not to react, be disgruntled or overcome by hate.  It drove him to embrace, to find kindness, to tolerate, and to care.

Love is the one thing that can unite us, bring us together, heal our pain, cause us to forgive, help us to set aside our differences, to overlook offenses…love is what draws us closer together.  It cannot fail.  No cold bed can overcome it.  No evil can stop it.  Not even death is greater than the power of love.  And I now firmly know, it is by such love that he will always, always be with us.

“Love is the river that flows through.

Love is the arms that are holding you.

Love is the place you will fly to.
Love never fails you.”  ~Brandon Heath, Love Never Fails, 2011

“And now these three remain: faith, hope and love.  But the greatest of these is love.”  ~1 Corinthians 13:13