I have had some seriously terrifying nightmares in my life. I remember one I had after graduating high school in which my future college roommate was some kind of... killer, I guess. In my dream, I never did figure out what she did that was so awful and I never saw her, but when I told people who I'd be rooming with, each one would shudder, turn pale, and whisper something like, "oh, no" or "run!" I woke up in a cold sweat, repeating to myself that it was only a dream, but it did no good. Logic, my daytime love, was no match for my nighttime fears.
There is little that can instill terror in a man's heart like the fear of the unknown. It's been hard for many of us teachers hearing about dramatic budget cut proposals and knowing that we cannot know for sure whether or not we will be employed next year. As one teacher said, it would be so much easier if we just knew one way or another so we could plan accordingly. Yes, it is hard to sit and wait patiently and watch as our future unfolds, far beyond our ability to control it. Yet God tells us that we can trust him. He assures us that he is with us always. Our unknown is not unknown to God, and there is no need to fear.
Thursday, January 19, 2012
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Go Ahead-- Look Down
"...those who hope in the Lord... will soar on wings like eagles..." (Isaiah 40:31)
"When the oceans rise and thunders roar, I will soar with you above the storm." (Hillsong)
If you've ever been flying in a plane, you know the window seat is the best. I love looking out and seeing the houses get smaller and smaller and looking down at mountains and lakes and feeling so... above everything. Even my problems.
I was flying back from a fantastic weekend with a great friend and got caught in some bad weather. It wasn't anything serious by any means. We had a little bit of turbulence and it was rainy and cloudy and generally gross when we landed, but that was the extent of the problem. Still, I was struck by the contrast. Close to the ground-- darkness, rain, turbulence. Way high up-- gorgeous fluffy clouds, blue sky, sunshine, calm. It amazed me to realize that the bad weather I experienced on the ground existed at the same time as the gorgeous weather above the clouds. The only difference was my altitude. Even as we experience storms in our lives, God's peace is there for us. We need to look past our circumstances and realize that there IS a place outside of what we're going through, a place of peace and light and beauty, a place where the God who loves us calls us to be.
"When the oceans rise and thunders roar, I will soar with you above the storm." (Hillsong)
If you've ever been flying in a plane, you know the window seat is the best. I love looking out and seeing the houses get smaller and smaller and looking down at mountains and lakes and feeling so... above everything. Even my problems.
I was flying back from a fantastic weekend with a great friend and got caught in some bad weather. It wasn't anything serious by any means. We had a little bit of turbulence and it was rainy and cloudy and generally gross when we landed, but that was the extent of the problem. Still, I was struck by the contrast. Close to the ground-- darkness, rain, turbulence. Way high up-- gorgeous fluffy clouds, blue sky, sunshine, calm. It amazed me to realize that the bad weather I experienced on the ground existed at the same time as the gorgeous weather above the clouds. The only difference was my altitude. Even as we experience storms in our lives, God's peace is there for us. We need to look past our circumstances and realize that there IS a place outside of what we're going through, a place of peace and light and beauty, a place where the God who loves us calls us to be.
Monday, January 2, 2012
Pride goeth before a fall
"God opposes the proud but shows favor to the humble." (from 1 Peter 5:5)
I don't know if you've ever played games with a little kid, but it is an enlightening experience in many ways. One thing I always find amusing is their firm insistence that they are the best, the fastest, the most skilled at whatever thing they're doing. The classic childhood game of "come and get me" is the one I play most often. So far, none have challenged me to a race by saying, "I know you're faster, but let's just run around!" No, it's usually something more like, "You can't catch me!" If you have ever entered a race with a small child, you know what usually happens next. The child bolts, perhaps thinking that the element of surprise will gain him a win. Although my legs are about twice the length of the kid's, I somehow always stay about one step behind the now-squealing boy, who knows I'm right behind him and hopes that he can still pull out a victory. I often let the child win, but sometimes I go for a tie. Regardless, the outcome of the race is never in the child's hands. I am always the faster; winning or losing is entirely my choice.
There aren't many things in my life that I am completely confident about. Self-doubt creeps into all kinds of situations, even the ones where everyone else would think that I had more than enough reasons to trust that I'd do well. I can say this, though. It has never even entered my mind to doubt that I could win a race against a 3 year-old. In that, I am completely confident. In my confidence, I don't need to boast. The race I desribed could just as easily go down like this: the kid challenges me; I catch him in 2.5 seconds; I tell him I'm faster and walk away. Or I could just make some disparaging comment about how there's no way he could win. I would never do either. Obviously it's mean, but it also makes no sense. I already know I'm faster. I race for the fun of it, not to prove anything, and in my confidence, I have room to "lose" the race for the sake of the child.
God has no reason to doubt himself. Ever. Us looking at God and acting like we know better than him is like a 3 year-old looking at me thinking he is faster. It's so completely unrealistic that it's not even worth discussing! Why, then, doesn't God just let us go on thinking that we know everything, if it's not offensive to his pride? Here's the thing. I let little kids win races because it's fun and not harmful. I think that kids do understand that grown-ups are faster-- they just like the thrill of the chase. But there are times when letting a child continue in wrong thinking could be very harmful. For example, if my son ever thinks he's Superman and tries to fly or wants to be linebacker for his football team (at 20 pounds underweight), I'm going to tell him that he is wrong. My pride isn't at stake. His safety is.
When we convince ourselves that we know more than God, God cannot stand it. His ego isn't in the way, and he's not trying to be mean, but he absolutely will humble you. When you are prideful, you convince yourself that you don't need God. You don't ask for his advice or opinions. You don't seek his presence. You walk away from him and try to discontinue the relationship. You've moved on. But God is a good father. It would take a nutjob to believe a two year-old is independent just because she insists, "I do it!" I don't care that she believes herself to be independent, my love, NOT my pride, makes me take her hand when we cross the street. I insist on cooking and cutting up her food myself to keep her safe. In the same way, God will not let us continue in our pride. He wants us to be safe in his presence, not to wander around alone in the wilderness where "Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8).
I don't know if you've ever played games with a little kid, but it is an enlightening experience in many ways. One thing I always find amusing is their firm insistence that they are the best, the fastest, the most skilled at whatever thing they're doing. The classic childhood game of "come and get me" is the one I play most often. So far, none have challenged me to a race by saying, "I know you're faster, but let's just run around!" No, it's usually something more like, "You can't catch me!" If you have ever entered a race with a small child, you know what usually happens next. The child bolts, perhaps thinking that the element of surprise will gain him a win. Although my legs are about twice the length of the kid's, I somehow always stay about one step behind the now-squealing boy, who knows I'm right behind him and hopes that he can still pull out a victory. I often let the child win, but sometimes I go for a tie. Regardless, the outcome of the race is never in the child's hands. I am always the faster; winning or losing is entirely my choice.
There aren't many things in my life that I am completely confident about. Self-doubt creeps into all kinds of situations, even the ones where everyone else would think that I had more than enough reasons to trust that I'd do well. I can say this, though. It has never even entered my mind to doubt that I could win a race against a 3 year-old. In that, I am completely confident. In my confidence, I don't need to boast. The race I desribed could just as easily go down like this: the kid challenges me; I catch him in 2.5 seconds; I tell him I'm faster and walk away. Or I could just make some disparaging comment about how there's no way he could win. I would never do either. Obviously it's mean, but it also makes no sense. I already know I'm faster. I race for the fun of it, not to prove anything, and in my confidence, I have room to "lose" the race for the sake of the child.
God has no reason to doubt himself. Ever. Us looking at God and acting like we know better than him is like a 3 year-old looking at me thinking he is faster. It's so completely unrealistic that it's not even worth discussing! Why, then, doesn't God just let us go on thinking that we know everything, if it's not offensive to his pride? Here's the thing. I let little kids win races because it's fun and not harmful. I think that kids do understand that grown-ups are faster-- they just like the thrill of the chase. But there are times when letting a child continue in wrong thinking could be very harmful. For example, if my son ever thinks he's Superman and tries to fly or wants to be linebacker for his football team (at 20 pounds underweight), I'm going to tell him that he is wrong. My pride isn't at stake. His safety is.
When we convince ourselves that we know more than God, God cannot stand it. His ego isn't in the way, and he's not trying to be mean, but he absolutely will humble you. When you are prideful, you convince yourself that you don't need God. You don't ask for his advice or opinions. You don't seek his presence. You walk away from him and try to discontinue the relationship. You've moved on. But God is a good father. It would take a nutjob to believe a two year-old is independent just because she insists, "I do it!" I don't care that she believes herself to be independent, my love, NOT my pride, makes me take her hand when we cross the street. I insist on cooking and cutting up her food myself to keep her safe. In the same way, God will not let us continue in our pride. He wants us to be safe in his presence, not to wander around alone in the wilderness where "Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8).
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