Trust

Trust is a tender thing. So tender that relationships find themselves irreparable when it is broken… and everyone understands. How can you go back on a thing like that? How can you put back the broken pieces so the cracks don’t show?

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,

and do not lean on your own understanding. Proverbs 3:5

Proverbs makes it sound so simple. Like, “Trust God!” Oh, um, okay. But for some time, I felt like God broke our trust. I was hurt and hurt in a way I wasn’t sure could really be fixed. And while I never turned from the faith, while I never really even spoke that out loud, I held this small place in my heart captive. I didn’t want to walk away in pain; I knew I didn’t see clearly in the fog, in the confusion, and so I wasn’t sure I wanted to abandon ship. But I also didn’t want to let God have all of me because… well, I didn’t feel He’d earned it. I didn’t feel He kept up His end of all this. I trusted you, I felt myself thinking. I trusted you and you didn’t come through.

I’ve visited this before, but it bears repeating. Job has all the awfulness of life rain down on him unmercifully and when he cries out to God, he doesn’t get rationalizations. He doesn’t get explanations. He doesn’t get to see the “reason” for his suffering or the “good” that it will bring about in him or anything like that. He lashes out at God, finally unable to keep it all straight, and God says, “Where were you when I laid the foundation of the earth? Tell me, if you have understanding. Who determined its measurements -- surely you know!”

Do you see this? This is the non-answer of all non-answers. What God gives Job is not an answer to His question. What God gives Job is a new question. The right question. Instead of, “What could I have done to deserve this? Where did I go wrong? Why would you let this happen?... my question, Job’s question, should be, “Who are you, Lord?” Who are you and what are you about?

Unlike with this world, unlike with people and situations here, our trust with God cannot be broken. It isn’t possible. God Himself keeps the covenant with us. It doesn’t depend on us even a little bit. And when we feel like it has been broken? Our answer is in the Garden. Instead of hiding away, instead of locking pieces of ourselves aside, we cue from God and go looking for Him. God knew what His children had done and yet He sought them out. And while we may not understand what God is up to, while we may not see the full picture, while we may be squinting out there trying to make shapes out of blobs, when we run to God, when we search for Him and seek Him out, we will never fail to find Him. And when we find God? We have all we could ever look for.

We can hold back pieces of ourselves from each other so we are sure not to get hurt. We can hold back pieces of ourselves from God so we play it safe. We can hold back from taking bold steps because we want to be sure of ourselves or because we have stepped out before and fallen on our faces. But in all that protecting and hiding, we’re missing it. We’re missing it in those moments because when we stop protecting, stop hiding ourselves away, stop trying to save ourselves, and instead, step out trusting God, we find that the story is not what we thought it was. We find out that it is not OUR story. We find that all along, we’ve been asking the wrong questions and searching for the wrong things.

The trick, y’all, is that we are hard-wired for wrong. We come out looking the wrong way and we have to learn, be taught, how to turn and trust. There are as many wrong questions to ask and as many wrong things to chase as there are humans who have ever walked the earth. And your hangup will not be my hangup or her hangup or his. We all get our own. (Isn’t that nice?? ;) ) But for all of us, there is one right question and there is one right answer and it is all of everything forever and ever, amen.

“Who are you, Lord?” “I AM.”

[Ed. note: I'm back... or something. I don't exactly know yet. I do know that I have missed writing and I have missed this space in particular, so I'm dipping my toe back in the water and we'll see where this goes! :) Thanks for being here.]

A New Name

 

You know the names you call yourself inside your head. You are a whore. You are a failure. You are an addict. You are stupid. You are lazy. You are obsessive. You are a liar. You are greedy. You are a thief. Maybe you feel ashamed of these names. You feel dirty or vulnerable, weak, out of control. Maybe you are proud of your name, like it's an accomplishment. You are proud of your sexual prowess or your ability to fool people with your words or how you can slick that handbag past the store clerk. You are proud of how drunk you can be without anyone knowing. Maybe you picture your stacks and stacks of cash, visualize yourself rolling in them like Scrooge McDuck, and take pride in how you've provided for yourself, protected your future.

We all have our name. You're thinking about it right now. Whether you're ashamed of it or proud of it, you know what it is. It's not the first thing you tell people about yourself, often times the last. It's what characters in books or movies or TV shows reveal about themselves that makes you feel squirmy inside, like they should have just kept it quiet, but also what you secretly enjoy knowing. Like their Achilles heel or the soft spot that makes them human. It's why PostSecret is so popular. We want to know the dirty ugly parts in others that reminds us we aren't alone in our dirty uglies, even if they're different things.

I read the other day about Abraham. His name originally was Abram, but God chose to change his name. "No longer shall you be called Abram, but your name shall be Abraham, for I have made you the father of a multitude of nations." (Genesis 17:5) Several times in the Bible, God changed people's names. Abram to Abraham, Jacob ("deceiver") to Israel ("he strives with God"), Simon to Peter ("rock"). Each time, God changed their names to indicate a future state. When God named Abram "father of a multitude", Abram's wife was barren. Father of a multitude? How? His wife couldn't conceive. When Jacob became "he strives with God", he was on the run. When Simon became a "rock", he still had yet to deny Christ, hardly a sign of someone strong and stable. But eventually, God blessed Sarah with a baby and Abraham became a father. Eventually, God used Jacob in the line of generations leading to Jesus. Eventually, Peter would become the mouthpiece of Jesus's ministry, spreading the Gospel around the world. These men weren't fathers of multitudes or striving with God or rocks when their names were changed. These men would become who God said they were.

If you are a Christian, God has given you a new name. "Christian" means little Christ, means "like Jesus". The Word says you are a conqueror, a child of God, an heir with Christ, a new man. "You are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus himself being the cornerstone." (Ephesians 2:19-20) You have a new name, Christian. Your name might have been slut. It might have been liar or thief or adulterer or murderer. Whatever it was, it isn't anymore. And your new name? It might wear a little big, like you don't quite fit it and you aren't really sure of it. Who is sure of it? God. He gave it to you and not because He felt bad for you and wanted to give you a self-esteem boost. He gave it to you because He will make it fit, He will make it true, and of that, you can be sure.

What we call ourselves matters. The more we replay the names we give ourselves, beat them into our minds, the more true they seem to us. We often become who we say we are. Our own name for ourselves means much more to us than others' names for us because we are the ones living in our own minds. We know the real truth, despite what others may see or say. But sometimes we get the truth wrong. Sometimes what we think we know isn't at all what is. "If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come." (2 Corinthians 5:17) You are a new creation, right now. The "old"? The not-nice, ugly-awful? It's dead. It may not feel like it. It may not look like it. You may not believe it which is why you need to hear it.

For my children more than for myself, I need to hear this. If I am a mom who constantly beats herself up, my children will learn from me and beat themselves up. If they hear from me all their faults, they will live in that pocket, preach that ugly to themselves. For my daughter, this is even scarier. She faces a future of hearing loss and possibly brain damage. She faces taunts from children who will mock her for being deaf or having strange hearing aids. You know all the names they will call her if she is developmentally delayed and to think of it, to think of a sweet little child being called those names, it makes your stomach hurt. And so for her sake, for her sake, I need my life to preach "Redeemed". I need my life to preach "Loved". I need my life to preach "Precious Child" and "Citizen with Saints" and "New Creation". I need to picture myself not as broken and dirty and discarded, but as polished and clean and cherished. I need to know that I am who God says I am and not what I say I am or what anyone else says I am. My daughter needs to know this too.

As ugly as those names others might call my girl is as ugly as those names you call yourself. As sick as those words make you feel, to think of them being hurled at her, is as sick as it should make you feel to beat yourself up. You aren't those ugly words any more than she is. You aren't, not because you aren't, but because God says you aren't. The God who spoke and there was light says, "Child" and so you are. Says "New" and so you are. Says "Clean" and so you are. Live in that pocket, preach that beauty, become that truth. "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death... If Christ is in you, although the body is dead because of sin, the Spirit is life because of righteousness. If the Spirit of him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through his Spirit who dwells in you." (Romans 8:1-2, 10-11)

God's Presence

**If you just started reading, go here to read about why I'm writing.**

About two weeks before my daughter came home, the hospital chaplain paid me a visit. I was snuggled up with baby girl in the comfy chair I had a nurse steal for me and we were watching our usual mindless HGTV show. The chaplain said he had been meaning to come by and just wanted to chat for a minute so I welcomed him in. He asked me how she was doing and I filled him in. He asked me how I was doing, kind of pressed me on it, and I told him -- that all things considered, I was doing pretty well, in large part thanks to the amazing community I had supporting me. I told him about some of the incredible ways God had shown Himself to us through our whole ordeal and he was almost surprised to hear that as my response. He asked me an interesting question that I will never forget. "You say that you feel God with you right now, but has there been a point throughout all this when you felt that God wasn't there?" The question took me off guard because truthfully, I hadn't really considered it. I took a moment to think and truthfully answered, "No, I never felt like God wasn't there." He nodded and smiled and said he was very encouraged by our story and went on his way.

I thought more about that question after he left. I answered him then, but I really wanted to examine my heart, think about what he was asking. We had been through a lot, most of it not good. We were facing questions without answers and some terrible possibilities for the future. At times, we weren't sure our daughter would survive everything she had to overcome. We certainly celebrated many "mountain top" moments when we could point and say, "Look! See! God is here!" But what about the valleys? What about the terrible-awfuls and the frightening parts? Was God present in those moments? Or was He just there for the victories?

As I pondered this, I thought back to a sermon preached by our church's former associate pastor. I don't remember the context of the illustration (sorry, Drew), but I will never forget what he said. He recounted his own experience with a sick child, his son born months premature and fighting for his life in the NICU. He was talking about God's presence in those times and he said, "If someone were to tell me that God wasn't with my son, that He wasn't a part of all this, I would want to punch that person in the face." The congregation chuckled at the thought of this very quiet, mild-mannered man hitting someone. But he said, "If God wasn't there, if God wasn't with my son when he was at his worst, what hope did we have? What hope is there if God isn't with us?"

The real emotion behind his words made my heart do flip flops. Knowing what they had been through and how scary it was, having visited his son when he was still in the hospital living in a plastic rectangle -- I knew that his charge to see God in the midst of pain and struggle came from a place of experience. He had been there, immersed in the pain, seeking to understand how these terrible things could happen and God could still be good. I had never really thought about it before. I had never thought about it in a way that was personal and real to me, in a way that I could truly see, and it scared me. What if I couldn't reconcile this? What if this was so big that it would shake the very foundation I stood on? How would I know if God was there when I encountered suffering in my own life?

The Word of God promises over and over again that God will be with his people always. Moses says this to Joshua as he hands over leadership to him: "It is the Lord who goes before you. He will be with you; he will not leave you or forsake you. Do not fear or be dismayed. (Deuteronomy 31:8)" Jesus promises his presence to his disciples before He ascended into heaven: "And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age. (Matthew 28:20)" God promises this in Isaiah: "Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you,I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. (Isaiah 41:10)" In Micah, the Word speaks to God's presence in trial: "Rejoice not over me, O my enemy; when I fall, I shall rise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me. (Micah 7:8)" Even when things look dim, God is still present, a light in the darkness.

My heart flip-flopped to think of seeking God in the midst of pain because I know myself. I know that when the going gets tough, I suck into my turtle shell and wait to beat off the intruders with a stick. I talk a good game, but I am not strong; I'm scared and small and weak. I give God my character, imagine He would do as I would, and suddenly the outcome doesn't look so good. Instead of victories, I see defeat after defeat after defeat and when the stakes are high -- say, my daughter's life -- I cannot compute; I don't want to go there; I don't want to have to think about God in the midst of that.

But God isn't me (thank God!). God is a God who keeps His promises and who is there. And thankfully, none of it relies on me. One of my favorite stories from Genesis illustrates this. "The word of the Lord came to Abram in a vision: 'Fear not, Abram, for I am your shield; your reward shall be very great.' (Genesis 15:1)" Abram didn't understand; he had no children but God was promising him great things and offspring beyond number. Abram "believed the Lord, and he counted it to him as righteousness." To cement this covenant that God had made with Abram, as a physical manifestation of the promise, God has Abram bring him sacrifices, animals that he was to cut in half and lay in the grass. When the time came to seal the covenant, Abram fell into a deep sleep. God repeated His promises to Abram, and "when the sun had gone down and it was dark, behold, a smoking fire pot and a flaming torch passed between these pieces." Abram didn't move between the pieces of the sacrifice. Abram didn't uphold his part of the covenant. God sealed the covenant for both parties, for himself and for Abram. God made the covenant with Abram, and God would keep the covenant for both himself and Abram.

All of those promises in the Word, promises to prosper and protect and secure and deliver, all those promises were made by the same God who sealed this covenant with Abram. They were made by a God who upholds His end of the deal and proves Himself over and over. When I look around and see my circumstances, see the pain or suffering around me, I could be tempted to think that God is not present or protecting or delivering. I could be tempted to think that God has abandoned me in that moment and that I am alone in my shell with my stick. But God does not depend on my circumstances. God does not depend on what I see or how I feel. And God is not shaped by my response to the world around me. I don't have to understand or know why. I don't have to be able to explain it or defend it. God's promises are true, despite my feelings or assessment of the situation. His promises are true regardless of how I think things look, and so I can say with confidence at all times that God is "my rock and my redeemer", that when I pass through the waters, God "will be with me" because, as He says, "I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior" and if He says it, it is true. Always. Forever. In all things.