only
minority
that do not claim
victimhood.
This has been a topsy-turvy week. I quit my job, my client is moving into a nursing home, my coworker is on drugs and I'm still- because I may always find myself here- in a financial bind. And that's just the work-related realm...
Personally: Nic got accepted into grad school, I may have to object at a friend's wedding, my new believers class is literally booming with talk of revival and meanwhile I haven't talked to my sister in Germany for nearly a month.
Vocationally: Ideas for the book I'm rumored to be writing are flowing in like honey and solidifying like a pristine Jello mold. Copyright!
Politically: I've actually become interested in politics again after being turned on to both Glenn Beck and the Grassfire organization. Did you know there are conservative activists?! I never knew such a type existed, let alone actually had a long-term, family- and God-centered agenda!
I feel like I'm on fire myself. Just a little bit, just a spark, because I've got so much more to learn, but what do I do with it?
Five years ago my action would have been to tell everyone what I know about the world until, two weeks later, I'd be so exhausted I couldn't keep the fire burning. I was a champion of causes, crusades and [cringe] "creating dialogue" between people. Don't get it twisted either, I was darn good at educating people onto my side. Five-years-ago me was fired up about this or that, but ultimately she died out because her fire really only burned for herself.
On Wednesday of this week I came face-to-face with 'five-years-ago me' and she was ugly, so today I say to that earlier version, "Get thee behind me Satan!" and I'm not afraid to say it. You want to question whether it's good for my self-esteem to call attention to my own sin like that? You want to talk about hellfire, damnation and the very real, very hot debate going on in many peoples' hearts between "serve yourself" and "serve God?" You want to try and convince me that my God isn't the holy, mighty, able, faithful, loving and keeping God that I know He is? I've got three words for you; bring it on.
I've known many people in my lifetime and I've burned a lot of bridges. This post, and some of the circumstances mentioned therein, may be the sparks that ends up burning up even more. But I will go on record today, in writing, saying that you can call me crazy, or fanatic, or confused, or naive, or uneducated; you can let the devil whisper into your ear that I think I'm better than you, or that this is just another one of my misguided phases of devotion. You can say whatever you like, but you will not convince me that this awesome, powerful fire burning within me should be used for anything but to advance the gospel of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.
We opened the front door, our eyes widening at the dazzling array of ornate French slippers, sparkling hair combs and soft veils, like sheets of spun gossamer, rippling gently from the drafts that plague this ancient house. I’ve been in many and I can tell you, this was no ordinary bridal shop.
I was there to try on- and hopefully purchase- my bridal gown. Experience had taught me not to peruse for this kind of dress alone, so this time I brought my whole entourage: my mother, mother-in-law, her daughter and my aunt. We were shown upstairs to a private boudoir, complete with three-sided mirrors and pedestal for me to model from. Our hostess, an ancient woman herself, seated my mother and I closest to her, and everyone else along the opposite wall. “Let me tell you what kind of bride I see you as…” she began.
My mind started to wander, and panic a little. She should be asking what kind of bride I think I am, I thought. Am I traditional? Modern? Romantic? Earthy? Bossy? She doesn’t know a thing about me!
But what I am most of all is patient, so I hear what she has to say. She gets through her absolutely dead-on synopsis of the “type of bride I am” and skirted away to choose some gowns for me. As I waited, I pondered, “What kind of groom is my fiancé?”
I thought back to when we first started dating. He was kind, he was patient, he lavished me with attention and he loved to talk (still does)! Above all this he is a believer, which reveals so many more wonderful qualities of his character. He’s a brilliant man and I couldn’t have chosen better if he was made-to-order. But that’s only one of the grooms I have.
My other groom is my Savior, Jesus Christ. In a lot of ways, the things I like about my fiancé are mere reflections of Jesus’ character. I think back to when I first met Him. He was kind, he was patient, he lavished me with attention and he loved to talk (admittedly I do most of the talking). I love Him more than I could ever explain. My fiancé knows it, too, and he isn’t threatened. He loves me because I love Jesus.
My hostess brings out an armada of gowns, wrenching me out of my romantic daydream. I try on two gowns amidst the oohs and aahs of my female companions. They all love the first one, hate the second. I’m having a hard time telling them that I really don’t like either one. I’ve been building this dress in my mind for weeks, compiling sleeve styles, necklines, embellishments and bustling type. Now, standing in this fairytale shop surrounded by visions of perfection in lace and tulle, I call on the only thing I know I couldn’t have chosen by myself, and wouldn’t change for all the beauty of the world- my Savior.
I thought about how He brought me out of the life I had before, in which I picked and chose whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted. If I didn’t like someone’s comment, they were gone from my life. I didn’t want to do this or that, I walked away from it. The talents I had were wasted, friendships I cherished, destroyed. I thought about how He went over every little detail of my life and compiled His own idea of who I should be. He simplified me, and I can’t thank Him enough.
You need to simplify this whole wedding thing, I told myself. The dress you get married in doesn’t matter; it’s the commitment you’ll be making in that dress that’s important. I recommitted myself to Christ right there in that shop, telling Him I would never let the details of this wedding cloud my vision of Him.
I never cease to be amazed at how many women in the body of Christ feel the way I do about the perceived necessity of using the degrees we've earned. Why, oh why, do we not give ourselves a well-deserved nod of approval at that remarkable accomplishment (face it, in our minute-to-minute culture whenever someone puts four years' focused time into any one thing, it's an accomplishment) and then go on to pursue our Godly, womanly talents and gifts? The following is an excerpt from a Revive our Hearts listener, commenting on the importance of not only becoming a Proverbs 31 woman, but not cow-towing to the “feminism” (which is anti-feminine) of our day and age.
Her husband has full confidence in her
and lacks nothing of value.
She brings him good, not harm,
all the days of her life.
She sets about her work vigorously;
her arms are strong for her tasks.
She is clothed with strength and dignity;
she can laugh at the days to come.
She speaks with wisdom,
and faithful instruction is on her tongue.
She watches over the affairs of her household
and does not eat the bread of idleness.
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak.
Lord, commit to my heart your words so that I may be the woman you want me to be. It is so hard to be that woman, but I desire nothing more. Let me me like the plants lying in wait for spring; keep me in wait for you, don't let me be hasty and lose the way, bring me up from the earth when you know it is the time I can thrive. And if I should be brought up and grow, don't then let me seek to water myself. Watch over me all the days of my life. Thank you and in the name of your Son I pray, Amen.
... lest Satan should take advantage of us; for we are not ignorant of his devices."