April 29, 2016

Pit or Platform? Step up.

      I have to begin with a little story from a few months ago. It's Christmas break, and I am the kind of weary tired that comes from staying up way too late night after night, after days full of activity with children. The Jones's were not getting anything remotely close to adequate sleep.  My children were exhausting me and one another with truly wonderful things, and very challenging things. Sledding!  fighting.  Wrestling!  whining. Ice skating!  (On top of getting three kids bundled up, a process my mom calls the snow dance, let's add knives to the bottom of our feet - they take an additional five minutes to put on PER SKATE and then let's try not to stab one another and stay standing while attempting to move around on a slippery, cold, rock hard surface.  WON'T THAT BE FUN?) It actually was fun. A lot of fun.

    Dustin and I, after a long New Year's weekend of winter fun with the kids and staying up late with all our people, watched some Netflix.  I fell asleep in the first five minutes of the show.  When he turned it off at the end and woke me up, I popped up and was like, "Decided to turn it off in the middle, huh?" He, used to the wiles of Sleeping Becky, took me by the hand and was like, "Come on honey, our room is this way."

    I do not remember getting into bed. I am always ridiculous with sleep. It is one of my gifts.  Yet ten minutes later, my youngest starts calling out in his sleep, from what is obviously a terrifying dream.  I fly out of my bed like I'm a freaking ninja assassin. Alert for danger. Ready to pray off a spiritual attack.  Waking and comforting him, readjusting, tucking him back in to bed. Covers smoothed, drink of water, forehead stroked.  And then I went back to bed...back to my gift... 

     Sometimes the places where we seem the weakest are actually caches of secret weapons and strength.  Especially in places we are tempted to feel like victims. Sometimes middle-of-the-night mommy just gets down about the lack of sleep.  I have a bible study book from the spring of 2011 (brand new baby, 2.5 and 5 year old in the house)  that asks questions like, "What is God bringing you through right now? What is the desire of your heart you need to lay before him?"  And my answers are like: "I need sleep.  I need to rest. I am running on empty. I am dying here. I am so tir...." and then there are just coffee stains all over it. It smells like old spilled coffee and spit-up and tears.
  
      It is easy to feel like a victim when it comes to things that are out of our control. New moms and  multiple little-kid moms are going to have some red in the sleep ledger.  Okay a lot of red. Some nights I think, "Why me?  Why tonight? God don't you know what I have on the calendar for tomorrow? Can a girl get some HELP? Can you make them sleep God? Poppies please? Isn't it something about poppies? I can't remember because I'm so freaking tired. Why is it always me? Why doesn't Daddy ever pop up out of his dead sleep and do it? Why can't I sleep through it? WHY DO MY DESCENDANTS WANT TO STEAL ALL OF THE GOOD THINGS? Like my peace! and my boobs! and my ability to think in complete sentences!" Whether the resulting feelings of self-pity and dismay are from a believer's very real enemy Satan, or just from our own flesh is hard to say.  And honestly, there is no energy left to try and figure that all out. 

    Lack of sleep is just one area where I am tempted to feel like a victim. Other things that do it would include: puke and other sicknesses of my children, weather (specifically and irrationally - wind), car problems, a distracted husband, bad moods that seemingly come out of nowhere, and last but most certainly not least - hormones (why is this happening to me? and why am I SOOOO sad about it?). But I am hearing from God that every time I have an opportunity to play the victim, that HE is extending a hand to me and inviting me onto a platform. 

     My default setting is to slither down into a pit of self pity, but His best is inviting me to step up.  "Why me?" Says the pit. My heels backslide down well-worn ruts.  "Only you can tuck that kid in and get him back to sleep in moments," says my God, who has equipped me for every good work. He beckons to me, to ascend the stairs, to step up, to come up on a sturdy place that is equipped with an eternal well of grace.  "Only you can wake up out of a dead sleep - you, the crazy sleep lady - and defend your child who's heart is gripped with fear. Only you can do it without waking up the rest of the house, even big brother who sleeps two feet away. I've put you HERE and given you everything you need to do it. STEP UP." He says it with a smile, like a welcoming invitation to be really, really good and capable at something, because he will equip  me to be.  

      So a five year old's bad dream, you're thinking....and she thinks she has problems. What about a major hurt? What about a life threatening illness?  What about a life threatening illness inside my child? Then is it okay to slither down into the pity pit? Then can I just collapse?   I truly believe the principal stands, regardless of the circumstance.  If this is starting to sound like "God never gives you anything you can't handle," a sentiment I hate, then please read about that in my post from a few years ago, "You Can't Handle It."  Instead, I believe God's loving voice sounds like this: "Trust me in this, you can't handle this alone, but I can. Give this tough thing to me- let me work through it and I will pour so much light through you that people will come staggering toward you demanding an explanation and you can say: Jesus."

     Recently our church has suffered some major hurt, like a rock slide with a bunch of broken hearts at the bottom kind of hurt.  Our pastor of 31 years was asked to step down.  He and his wife are very hurt.  His son, another pastor at our church, is very hurt.  His family was very hurt. Our head pastor's  reputation is spotless.  He led us well. There were 1,000 conversations to have and 2,000 Why!?s   But yet again, I see the hand of Jesus reaching out and  extending an invitation.  Saying - don't tap dance around the edge of the pit...STEP UP onto my platform of grace.  Every crack in your broken heart will let my light through, if you stick close to me in this.  I will not waste a single fracture.  Every time I want to feel like a victim, God can use me well if I refuse to slither into myself.
   
         I am watching my friend, my pastor's son, do just this.  He is using his gifts- creativity, music, technology, encouragement - to step up and lead well. He is definitely in one of the toughest positions in all this. He will stay with the people who are hurting, and the people he is mad at. He has listened to raw hearts spewing raw materials from just about every point of view, while trying to process his own balance of family loyalty and belonging to a body of believers. My friend isn't just transitioning to a new boss, he is doing that alongside grieving for his dad. His kids' grandpa. His kids' grandma. There are plenty of people who in our church who are stuck down in pits of anger, of sadness, of resentment that this decision was made. Of all the people, my friend deserves to slide into a pit of all those tough feelings. But he is stepping up. He might not be doing it perfectly, but every day he shows up for work. He thinks of ways to lead the people in songs that will lift our collective spirit, and our individual ones. He and his wife are having tough conversations they'd rather avoid. They are facing feelings with courage instead of numbing them with Netflix. Of all people, we would say - yep, you deserve some time in the self-pity pit; just take a little vacation down in there.  But God has better plans. When we think we most deserve something, God invites us to serve Him instead. My friend is stepping up. He's singing praises. He's singing a new song, even if it's in a sad sounding minor key for right now. And it's a beautiful thing to watch.

    My Jones sister in Michigan is doing the same thing. She was diagnosed with a really crappy chronic illness that will affect her for the rest of her life. She texted me a month ago: I wouldn't change a thing that I've been through. It feels like an awakening. I have incentive to grow in faith. Wow!! She is stepping up, and God will be glorified.

        And there are greater tragedies than an honorable pastor peacefully leaving a church. Sadder things than watching your parents figure out plan B. There are really tough things, but what I see is this:  people in really tough circumstances have the greatest cavities to fill. And when we choose to fill our crushed up empty places with Jesus, His light is so full and bright that we light up the world, and that was His plan all along. No, he does not want us in pain. No, it is not his perfect will to allow hurt into our lives. But he honors our tough things by using them for good. Hallelujah!

     Every time I feel sorry for myself because 'she' didn't text me in my time of need, is an opportunity to reach out and encourage HER in her battle.  Every time I have road rage because someone is riding my bumper, I can flip them off, or I can be humble.  I can get out of their way, submit, defer, pray for them and give a friendly wave.  Every time my husband is absorbed in his own fight or life or interests, and i want to whine around and feel unloved and unwanted, I can step up and initiate affection, conversation or touch. Or crazy idea!: Clearly and kindly ask for his attention and compassion. He is a good man, I need only ask.

     Do not misunderstand me - there is a grief process.  There is no shame in moving through that process, and you should not feel guilt or shame because you are in a tough place and you are not "doing enough" to step up, or you are "doing it wrong."  That is never, ever the intention of my words - written or spoken.  What I always intend for my words to do is to shift the focus from self (especially MYSELF) - back to Jesus.  When we are wrapped in self, we are helpless. When we let the hurt feelings swirl around and around us, we are right where Satan wants us. Isolated. Cut off from living water. Clogged up. Powerless.  When we are wrapped in Jesus, our eyes are on Him, on His works prepared for us, on His priorities- we are connected to a source that gives us power, healing and purpose. We don't have to do it by our own strength, because He only needs our surrender - and He does the work. It still hurts, but it's not pointless or destructive. Through us - through our surrendered gifts, talents, time, pain, testimonies and empathetic love for others - He builds his kingdom.

     Jesus warned the disciples they would have troubles, that things would go badly for them, and that they would be hated.  He encouraged them to keep going. To shake the dust off their feet, move on and trust him with the judgement and the results. Because their eyes were on Him and not their troubles:  prison became a pulpit; a stoning spurred the spread of the gospel all over the region; chained-in-jail became an opportunity to interact with angels. Paul, shipwrecked and snake bitten, wrote the letters that helped me fall in love with Jesus.  The brave and resilient men who, by the power of the Holy Spirit and the name of Jesus,  'stepped up' after the resurrection guaranteed that the gospel would be alive and well, and growing today.  Their step-up helped ensure your eternity with Jesus, if you've decided that Jesus is for you.  What will our 'steps up' do in other people's eternities? People we do life with now? People we raise? mentor? feed? clothe? Their children? For how many generations?

    Are you stuck in a pit?  Reach your hands to the heavens and pray.  There is a God and a Savior that has a beautiful story to tell through you, and His hands are lovingly extended toward you at all times, waiting to deliver you. Ready to rescue you. He is a good, good God, you need only ask.