Tag: trust

Step Up

jamieahughes4 Comments

Adopting children involves a great deal of preparation–everything from your home to your heart–and we did a bit of both this past weekend.

Our couch and chairs, which were perfect in a two bedroom apartment, left us looking a little house poor in the new digs. So we decided to go ahead and buy a sectional that we could use for entertaining and for what we hope will be many fun family movie nights. So we spent most of Friday hauling the old stuff to Goodwill and then filling the empty space with the lovely piece you see below.

The cat is scoping it out, trying to find the best place to sit. And yes, we are changing the wall color.
The cat is scoping it out, trying to find the best place to sit. And the walls have been painted since. No more gaudy mint green!

 

The new monstrosity comes in four sections: chaise lounge, center couch, end couch, and ottoman. Three of the four pieces weren’t too much trouble, but the end couch (the one closest to you in the picture) was an absolute bear. Even after we removed the wooden feet and tried wedging it through the door from multiple angles, it still refused to go in. However, twenty minutes (and several frustrated grunts) later, we managed it. And I thought I’d never use geometry again after high school.

The schlepping wasn’t the part that got to me, it was getting the pieces up and down the back stairs. The reason? I don’t like moving around when I can’t see my feet. I just don’t believe I’ll hit stable ground when I don’t know exactly where I’m headed. I can’t shake the feeling that I’ll find the one hole to step in or that my foot will slip, either of which will end with me crashing to the ground. My brain knows that I’m okay—but for some reason, if I can’t see it, I don’t believe it. And until I can get my bearings, my stomach slushes around in my gut like a boat bobbing on choppy seas.

I felt much the same way on Saturday in our IMPACT training classes at Bethany. As we sat and listened to all the signs a child has been sexually abused and the ways in which he/she might act out, I felt that place in me go loose again. I floated on a sea of incertitude, lost and wondering where this process might take me. The questions flashed in my mind, all strobe lights and gaudy neon…

Who exactly am I bringing into my home?

What kind of damage has already been done, and is there enough love in me to help undo it?

Am I ready to raise a child who has faced horrors I’ve never even imagined?

How am I going to manage this and a full time job?

I honestly don’t know the answers to any of these questions that now hang in the air like an unresolved chord, dissonant and jangling.

I’m in the cavernous space between them and their answers. It’s a place of uncertainty where I can’t see my feet, spiritually speaking. I don’t know where this process will take me, if I will land on solid ground or find myself tumbling down the stairs. “Just show me a few details,” I ask God. “Like how many kids we’ll have. Or how about a heads up about the kinds of behavioral issues they’re going to have so I can research and prepare myself. Just a few clues, God. That’s all I need really.” But He’s silent. Not because He can’t answer me, but because answers aren’t what I need.

The other day, a good friend said, “Jamie, it’s in the act of faith that courage becomes a reality.”

That’s why (as much as I hate it) I need to stand, my foot hovering above the unknown, and trust God to take care of me when it lands. Why? Because the courage comes when you act, not as you wait.

Tim Challies put it this way in a recent blog post about making decisions:

“The thing we want [an answer] is a thing God does not give us. He is far too wise for that, and does not give us that view of the finish line, that sneak peak of the future. He could, of course….But he doesn’t.

Instead, he does something far better: He gives us a view of himself. We don’t need to know the future when we know the one who holds the future. God does not want us to put our hope in a future outcome, but in him. We don’t ground our faith in a result, but in a Person. If we could see the future we would take our eyes off him. If we could see the future, our faith would be in the future. But when all we see is God, our trust must be in him.

God doesn’t comfort us by showing us the future, but by showing us himself. He shows himself as the all-powerful, all-knowing God who is for us, not against us. He shows himself as being far more committed to us than we are to him. He promises that he will never leave us nor forsake us, that he will work all things for good, that he will hold us firm to the end. He guarantees that he has purposes in this world and that nothing can change or interrupt or thwart them. He assures us that he will be glorified. He says, “Don’t look at the future, look at me!”

That’s what I have to remember in the empty, hollow space of dissonance—the resolution will come. Yes, the questions will be answered.

Perhaps they will be fast, miraculous, onomatopoetic answers….Zap! Bang! Boom!

But I think it’s far more likely to happen over a slow passage of years. I’ll get them as I help my children untangle the knots of pain in their souls and put themselves back together. Getting them will hurt, yes, and there will be tears of both joy and sorrow. But I cannot allow the lack of them to delay God’s plan for my life. So bring on the next piece of unwieldy furniture, the next challenge, and the next question.

I’m ready to step up.

I’m Sick of Praying for People With Cancer…

jamieahughes8 Comments

I know the title of this blog may be a little misleading. I do not mean to say that I’m fed up with people who are dealing with cancer, and I certainly do not want to imply that I am tired of praying. What I am saying is that I pray for no fewer than ten people a week, all of whom are struggling with some form of this disease.

I’ve had enough of it…..Cancer, I mean.

According to the American Cancer Society’s latest data, 1,529,560 new cases of cancer will be diagnosed in 2011. That’s just about evenly split between men (789,620) and women (739,940). For those who have cancer of any system or organ, it is estimated that 569,490 will lose their lives to it. Again, the numbers are fairly evenly split between males (299,200) and females (270, 290). Be aware that this is in the United States ALONE.

Over half a million people will pass away this year because of this malady. Yes, that’s nearly 570,000 people, which is equal to one tenth of the population of Atlanta. Some cases might have been brought on by poor lifestyle choices or work environment, but many more are simply caused by genetic and environmental factors. People who have done their level best to take care of themselves and have shied away from any and all behaviors that can tempt this disease to draw near can feel ill, head in for a visit with the doctor, and come out diagnosed with this disease.

That’s because cancer doesn’t care who you are—male or female, rich or poor, black or white, gay or straight, conservative or liberal. You can be five, fifty, or one hundred and four when it decides to show up at your door. Whether you worship God, the Flying Spaghetti Monster, or the almighty dollar, cancer can and will take residence somewhere in the amazing body the Lord has blessed you with. It is one of the few diseases that knows no prejudice. It has no agenda other than causing havoc in your body and putting a strain on patients and their loved ones.

Who said equality was impossible?

If you divide the projected number of new cases by 365, you’ll find out that, on average, 4,190 people will find out that they have some form of cancer each and every day in this country. Today, 4,190 people will start a journey that will take them from second opinions to treatment options and from offices and work stations to the chairs where they’ll spend hours getting chemotherapy or radiation. For some, there will come a day when their own comfortable beds, covered with linens still redolent of laundry detergent and their spouse’s shampoo, will be replaced by the stiff confines of a hospital bed and impersonal sheets, starched and bleached until they’re brittle and scratchy.

Life as they’ve known it will be over.

For some people, their bodies will be weakened and their immune systems as vulnerable to attack as a village once was to the war machine of Rome. For others, their hair will do an impersonation of Elvis and “leave the building,” so baldy jokes will be made and colorful scarves bought by the dozens. 5K walks will take place, and ribbons of every color of the spectrum will be donned by friends, families, and co-workers to show support and raise funds for research.

For some, survival parties will eventually be held, and the countdown to the one-year anniversary of the happy date will begin. For others, a more somber gathering is the end result as friends and relations are left to try to understand what happened and to breathe a sigh of relief because the person who came under cancer’s tyrannical grasp and fought so valiantly has gone to a place where it can never harm him or her again.

No soul is safe, no system immune. The tongue can play host to it just as easily as the prostate or the breast. The lungs serve as its dwelling place along with the brain, the skin, the colon, the stomach, and even the reproductive organs responsible for creating life. It travels from system to system, organ to organ, as easily as a family station wagon cruises the highways and byways of the nation on a cross-country vacation. No paperwork is required; no border systems are in place to check its progress.

I’ve lost two grandparents to this disease as well as friends and students. I name some here to tell you they were real people with souls who breathed and walked on this earth. They were not numbers or statistics. I loved them all and still do today.

***

Betty Hill, my grandmother, loved to watch boxing. She cooked a mean plate of eggs, worked harder than any woman I ever knew, and apparently talked as rapidly as I do.

Leonard Hill, my grandfather, fought in the Pacific Theater during World War II and was a deacon, a Mason, and a Gideon. He loved feeding friends and family, had a fondness for dogs, and was an amazingly generous tipper.

Catie Carter, one of the brightest and most beautiful girls I had the privilege to teach, loved pink and took pride in keeping up with her homework no matter what. She approached everything with humor and love, and everyone who knew her is better off for it.

***

Today, people I love continue to fight the cancer in their lungs and their prostates, in their bladders, their blood, and their bones. And I pray. I hate it, but I pray. Why? Because James 5: 13-16 tells me:

Is anyone among you suffering? Then he must pray. Is anyone cheerful? He is to sing praises. Is anyone among you sick? Then he must call for the elders of the church and they are to pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of the Lord; and the prayer offered in faith will restore the one who is sick, and the Lord will raise him up, and if he has committed sins, they will be forgiven him. Therefore, confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another so that you may be healed. The effective prayer of a righteous man can accomplish much.

Praying for someone who is ill, especially if he or she does not get well, is one of the hardest things to do because it’s easy to feel like God doesn’t answer that prayer, no matter how fervently it’s offered. If you’re reading this and you’re angry with God or feel like He’s cruel and unjust, I can understand. I’ve felt the same way.

However, what I’ve come to understand is that God didn’t intend for this disease to exist. He created a perfect world without sickness and death, and it was we who lost it because of sin. What He does is allow it to occur so that those who are ailing, and those who stand by them through it all, can come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ and attain the reconciliation that comes with accepting Him as Savior. One day, we can all know the glory of the body we were intended to have. One day, we can see those we lost again in a place where separation is no longer a possibility. One day, cancer will be a foreign concept, an impossibility no longer cause for concern. But until then, it is our burden to bear together.

Reader, I serve a Savior who raised a man from the dead four days after the fact (John 11:1-45). I serve Jesus Christ—He who walked on water, who gave sharp eyes to the blind and nimble legs to the cripple, and who, with His death, tore the veil between me and my heavenly Father clean in two, making it possible for me to be reunited in fellowship with Him forever.

As much as I might pray for it, I know God’s will is not that we all be spared from cancer. Some of us will have to walk that road in order to be brought to a place where true healing can occur. When our bodies betray us, our spirits begin the search for answers and find the Almighty had them all along. As one who God allowed disease to touch for His glory, I echo the words of the apostle Paul, “For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us” (Rom 8:18).

My sickness led to my salvation, and that is why I would not ask for it to be removed from me were it even possible. My thorn in the flesh made me humble, dependent, and wise in the ways of the Father, and I am well in soul though I am weak in body. So I continue to testify to the goodness of God, to worship He who is already in my tomorrow, and to pray that His will be done in all things.

***

If you have cancer (or any other disease that is affecting you physically or spiritually), you are in my prayers. Post a reply, and let me know your story. More importantly, keep fighting! Keep following Dylan Thomas’ advice and “Rage, rage against the dying of the light.” Life is precious, and we have so much to do before it’s over.

Waiting for Onesimus

jamieahughes4 Comments

Isaiah 55:11 reads, “So will My word be which goes forth from My mouth; it will not return to Me empty, without accomplishing what I desire and without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it.” It is an oft-paraphrased verse that is usually quoted in a more stylized, King James Version kind of way—“My Word shall not return void.” Isn’t that the truth?

Every time I earnestly study God’s Word looking for a deeper understanding of Him and what He would have for my life, I come away with more than I can process in a single sitting. It provides answers…in spades! This blog may be a bit on the circuitous side, so let me apologize for that in advance. However, I felt like saying something on paper was better than letting it roll around in my head, unformulated, any longer.

This all started yesterday when I read all of Titus in my daily Bible study. I started noticing a pattern throughout Paul’s letter—the repeated use of the phrase “good works.” In fact, there are seven uses of this phrase, only two of which are variations.  The two that are different (“lover of what is good” and “disqualified for every good work”) both refer to what a Christian leader must be. The former phrase describes those fit to be elders while the latter is applicable to the people of Crete, many of whom were grossly unqualified.

Having studied Galatians, I know that works are not what “earn us a spot” in heaven. In fact, our works are nothing more than “filthy rags” before God, worthless in the scope of eternity (Isa. 64:6). However, good works are something we cannot help but produce as fruit of the spirit. Once saved, we can manifest our gratitude to the Father by serving others and bringing His light to the world.

I got to thinking about “good works” and what, for lack of a better term, “qualifies” a work to be good. I don’t know about you, dear reader, but I read stories about amazing missionaries who are converting entire villages in African countries with names I can’t even pronounce and marvel. I hear about people who are fighting to stop child sex trafficking by taking in girls despite the daily threats they receive from the animals trying to sell them, and I want to stand up and applaud. THOSE are “good works” in my book. Through of actions like these, lives are lives being transformed because of the strength security in Christ provides.

What do I have to offer in return? My best example of a “good work” this week was getting a six-pack of Jello chocolate pudding down off the top shelf for an adorable old lady. How is that even comparable!?

Thankfully, we are not meant to compare our good works against others’. In fact, we are not to judge anyone’s actions, including our own. That’s God’s privilege. Paul writes:

Let a man regard us in this manner, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. In this case, moreover, it is required of stewards that one be found trustworthy. But to me it is a very small thing that I may be examined by you, or by any human court; in fact, I do not even examine myself. For I am conscious of nothing against myself, yet I am not by this acquitted; but the one who examines me is the Lord. Therefore do not go on passing judgment before the time, but wait until the Lord comes who will both bring to light the things hidden in the darkness and disclose the motives of men’s hearts; and then each man’s praise will come to him from God (1 Cor. 4:1-5).

God knows why we do good works, and that is even more important than what we do. Buying one homeless man a meal is just as “good” as running a twenty-four hour soup kitchen if it is done with the right intentions—to show kindness to others and share the love of Christ with them.

I’ve been asking God to show me what good works He would have me do. I’ve even told Him, “Father, even if I’m afraid or what You ask makes me uncomfortable, I know You will help me to see it through. I’m willing.” When in prayer, that sounds all well and good, but I would like to think I genuinely mean it. I want to be a “good and faithful servant” and do things that honor my Savior (Matt. 25:21).

But then I read the book of Philemon and swallowed audibly.

After reading the twenty-five verses of this short epistle, I realized that there are times when God gives people moments in their lives when they have to “put their spiritual money where their mouth is” and show that their faith is more than window dressing, some sort of Christian Kabuki theater.

Here’s the backstory—Philemon was a wealthy Christian living in Colossae. His slave, Onesimus, had run away from him and attempted to hide in Rome. However, God had other plans, and Onesimus was brought to Paul who was under house arrest at that time. Paul, who had likely led Philemon to Christ, led the slave to salvation as well. Paul enjoyed Onesimus’ company and desired to keep him nearby, but he knew that healing the breach with his former master was more important and that more spiritual good could be accomplished by sending him back with a letter.

Under the law, Philemon had the right to kill Onesimus. In fact, beating him within an inch of his life would have been viewed by many as merciful in the extreme. However, Paul doesn’t suggest that. Instead, he asks his friend to receive his runaway slave as “a beloved brother” because they were both a part of the family of God.  What he was asking was unheard of at that time! To show mercy to a slave, a person you had previously owned? It was nearly unthinkable.

Paul might have made it easier if he’d ordered the master to forgive the slave, but he does not. Paul writes, “…I wanted you to do nothing, that your good deed might not be by compulsion as it were, but voluntary. . . .Yes, brother, let me have joy from you in the Lord; refresh my heart in the Lord. Having confidence in your obedience, I write to you, knowing that you will do even more than I say” (Phil. 1:14, 20-21).

In essence, Paul tells his friend, one of the many he brought to a saving knowledge in Christ, “I know you understand the concept of forgiveness because you have been forgiven by the blood of Jesus Christ. That’s all well and good, but now I am asking you to practice it as well.” Philemon had every right to abuse, starve, and kill this man that Paul was sending back to him. The world would not have condemned him for any of those actions. In fact, he would draw more ire for doing what Paul was asking him to do—“Receive him as you would me” (Phil. 1:17).

I’m sure Paul sent the poor slave home, letter in hand, hoping that his fellow Christian would do the right thing having been given the choice. And that is what God does with us. He offers salvation to all, but only a few receive. He gives us the choice to heed or disregard His will, all the while earnest that we’ll choose the narrow gate (Matt. 7:13). However, the asking does not stop there. God will continue to push us, to present us with moments and times where we can choose to follow His leading and His will for our lives, leaving it up to us as we grow in faith.

According to all the records and commentaries on this epistle, Philemon did indeed accept Onesimus back into his household, even freeing him from slavery. Many even claim that he “was the Onesimus consecrated a bishop by the Apostles and who accepted the episcopal throne in Ephesus following the Apostle Timothy”! Philemon was able to exercise forgiveness and allow it to strengthen his testimony, and because of it, his formerly rebellious slave became a useful servant of Christ.

The symbolism of their names makes it altogether wonderful. Philemon means “affectionate,” and it is he who shows Christ-like affection for his lost servant. Onesimus means “profitable,” and that is exactly what he became because of Philemon’s willingness to forgive.

Had the Holy Spirit not been working in Philemon and the man himself sensitive to His leading, how many others might have missed out on seeing Christian forgiveness in action? How many might not have come to know the saving grace of Christ Jesus? This is an amazing example of practical righteousness, of Christian brotherhood and love that showed many people the way to salvation who might otherwise miss out.

After all, words and mighty ideals might sound good, but many people will not be willing to sit down and listen to a lengthy scriptural argument. Many care nothing for doctrine or spirituality, those things that show what many are doing is sinful and of the world. However, if they can see it in action and realize that being Christian is more than just a slogan on a t-shirt, hearts that might otherwise be firmly shut and locked against the Word might be opened—even if it is but a crack. That’s all the Holy Spirit needs.

Like Vladimir and Estragon in Waiting for Godot, the absurdist play, I am waiting for my Onesimus. Unlike their “friend” who never shows up, I know my moment will one day arrive. I will then have a choice to make—to follow the leadings of the Holy Spirit and be an effective witness or to let the opportunity pass.  Perhaps, Lord willing, there will be many such times. Therefore, I ask the Lord that I may be like Philemon, affectionate and willing to humble myself in His service , to be used as only He can use me for His glory.

 Soli Deo Gloria!

Writing (No Longer) on the Wall

jamieahughes4 Comments

The last few blogs I’ve written have been about patience and trust, two things I desperately needed as I waited for word on my new job. I am happy to report that I received a call from In Touch Ministries last Thursday and that I will begin work as a copy/content editor for their company as of June 20, 2011! The timing could not have been more perfect, and I know for a fact that it is God’s will for my life that I take this position and move into the next phase of my life where I will use my talents and grow in my faith.

That is not to say that this transition has been without stress. Yes, I love the idea of never having to grade another essay or quiz ever again. I’ve been in the business of education for eleven years now, and my life has always been filled with papers, red ink, parent conferences, continuing education, lesson plans, tutoring, and all the other rigmarole that comes with that territory. I’ve worked hard to teach students not just to read and write but to think for themselves. I’ve tried to show them the value of reasoning and evaluating the world like they do the novels, poems, stories, and essays we’ve analyzed together in class. Some have come back and told me about how they sailed through college composition courses because of what we covered in high school; others have even taken the bold step and become English majors and English teachers themselves (despite my insistence that they choose something practical like engineering or business management!)

Granted, I was never the best English teacher; there were others who had been at it much longer than I and who had it down to an art form. After many years, I still struggled to find the best or most efficient way to teach a lesson, but I can honestly say that I tried each and every day to do my best and that I did grow and develop during my decade behind the big desk.

I am now moving into a new field, one that will allow me to continue using my ninja editing skills to their fullest, and I find the prospect both wildly exhilarating and utterly terrifying. After all, since graduating from Valdosta State University with my Bachelor’s Degree in English in 2001, I have been involved in the business of making someone somewhere smarter in some capacity. I’ve taught middle school, high school, and college classes in literature, language arts, theater, creative writing, music, and Bible. I’ve been a tutor, a student aide, and a manager of other teachers at a Sylvan Learning Center. I’ve been a teacher for so long that I honestly don’t know if I’m ever going to excel at anything else. It’s become so much a part of who I am that I’m afraid to let go of it.

No matter how much I want to do away with teaching MLA for the nine billionth time or grading another persuasive essay, I find myself holding on to them both. I think the reason why is because they’re “safe.” They are “known entities.” Yes, I’m tired of them, and I no longer fully enjoy the tasks themselves, but they have become the devils I know. I don’t have to worry if someone looks at me and says, “Hughes! Your task today is to teach students how to craft an introductory paragraph!” I could do that with my eyes sewn shut and my thumbs tied firmly to my big toes. No need to worry, and no stress involved.

Now, that all changes. I’ll no longer be the master chief on deck or the lieutenant colonel in the field. I’m back to private first class status with very few medals on my chest and a lot of unanswered questions in my head. No longer am I recent college graduate with a shiny framed diploma and a litany of excuses as to why I don’t know something. Instead, I’m thirty-three and making a jump into a new industry. I’m expected to know quite a bit, and I don’t know if I do just yet. I’m becoming a member of a large, well-established, and well-respected publishing house, one that has the high calling of spreading the Gospel around the world in order to create disciples. It takes some time to process to say the least.

I decided that in order to make myself feel a little less “teacherish,” a little less like my old self, I needed to do a Publisher’s Clearing House impression. I’m talking a total, full on freebie giveaway. In case you aren’t a teacher or know someone who is, teachers tend to be savers by nature. We enjoy finding ways to keep things in files, folders, drawers, or boxes just because we might one day find ourselves in need of them. Whether it be handouts, example student essays, a well-written editorial from the local newspaper, a comic strip that happens to make a literary joke, or a poster, teachers will poke things away like squirrels preparing for an eternal winter.

I gave away a few non-literary things when I left my high school job, and I even left my lesson plan notebooks for the teacher replacing me to use and copy for herself. (Naturally, I got those back first thing.) 🙂 However, I was going to another teaching job and was loath to loosen my grip upon my precious teaching materials.

Now, the job has nothing to do with education, and so many of the things I treasured have been rendered unnecessary. I am also moving into the city and must do what every good move dictates–perform a culling. I am aware that this is at odds with the teacher’s inborn need to save everything, but what can I say? I am a multifaceted creature.

I have learned the need for organization and efficiency through a lifetime of experience. Growing up, I moved a lot, usually every two years or so. As a result, I have a very low tolerance for clutter. If I didn’t want to put it in a box, lug it to the new place, put it back out, and then repeat the same action a scant two years later, I decided someone else could use it more than I, and off to Goodwill it went.

As you can see by the photo, the items I chose to give away first are the laminated posters I brought with me. These have decorated the walls of every classroom in which I’ve ever taught. They filled space, gave the room some color, and even helped the occasional astute student who thought to look at them during a poetry terminology quiz! I packed them up and toted them over to the learning support center where a crew of wonderful and able-bodied teachers serve as student tutors and editors for a portion of our student body. Their shared space is very bland as their budget is non-existent and teachers cannot often afford to shell out their hard-earned pennies for something as trivial as posters. They were thrilled to get them, and I was pleased to see that these things I’d purchased with my own classroom in mind can now be used in another to help further educate people I might never meet.

I know that shedding posters like a snake sheds its skin will not automatically transform me into a new person. That process requires time and focus as I test the waters of my new career and see where and when I excel. However, today I feel like I took the first step towards a fruitful and fulfilling change in my life. I’m truly looking forward to the new things I’ll learn, the new friends and contacts I’ll make, and the new things I’ll use to define myself with in the future.

Letting Patience Have Its Perfect Work

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Patience, Hard Thing! The Hard Thing But to Pray

Patience, hard thing! the hard thing but to pray,
But bid for, Patience is! Patience who asks    
Wants war, wants wounds; weary his times, his tasks;  
To do without, take tosses, and obey.        
  Rare patience roots in these, and, these away,          
Nowhere. Natural heart’s ivy, Patience masks 
Our ruins of wrecked past purpose. There she basks        
Purple eyes and seas of liquid leaves all day.    

  We hear our hearts grate on themselves: it kills    
To bruise them dearer. Yet the rebellious wills       
Of us we do bid God bend to him even so.
  And where is he who more and more distils  
Delicious kindness? — He is patient. Patience fills   
His crisp combs, and that comes those ways we know.

This beautiful poem from the pen of Gerard Manley Hopkins, a Jesuit priest and scholar, is on my mind this evening. In it, he recognizes the importance of patience for a Christian, a willingness to wait on the will of God. However, he acknowledges that it is indeed difficult to sit and wait. This is especially true of those of us caught up in our on-demand culture. What God wants for us may require us to wait patiently while things pass us by that seem to count for losses. However, those things we “lose” and those scars we bear are where “patience roots” and nowhere else. Without challenges and a few nicks and chinks, nothing else can take root  in us. We will never develop spiritually without this necessary hurt. However, after the injuries, the patience we learn by waiting upon the Lord covers us like broad spans of ivy, making us better and more beautiful for our willingness to, as John Milton put it, “stand and wait.”

However, what we want and what God wants for us might always be at odds. We often struggle to patently submit ourselves to Him, to “bruise [our hearts] dearer” by relinquishing what remains of ourself to Him. However, that is our goal, to “die to self daily,” or until that is truly possible to “bid God bend to him even so.” In essence, we must first want to want to obey God. However, once we are still and patient, willing to wait on God no matter how long His reply is in coming, there is a reward unspeakably beautiful. Patience comes “the way we know,” which is through prayer, and we gain the delights of “delicious kindness” and that peace “which passeth all understanding” (Philippians 4:7). This is what we store up, our treasures for the hereafter, much as a bee stores honey in his “crisp combs.”

Lord, I ask You to make me patient, make me willing to carry our Your perfect will for my life. Fill up and cover over the broken parts of me and transform what is bitter into something sweet and pleasing to the senses. All to you, I surrender.

***

“My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. But let patience have its perfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing. If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all liberally and without reproach, and it will be given to him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for he who doubts is like a wave of the sea driven and tossed by the wind. For let not that man suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.” — James 1:2-7

Real Hope & Change

jamieahughes4 Comments

I have a love/hate relationship with change. The thrill of self-discovery comes with it, but more often than not, change brings uncertainty and difficulty. For me, the last two weeks have been a combination of the two extremes, both mentally and spiritually.

Several months ago, I began looking for a new place of employment, one where my talents could be put to use in a new field. I came across a posting for the Woodruff Arts Center titled “Director of Educational Outreach” or some such hyperbolic nonsense. Essentially, the job involved working with the Atlanta Youth Symphony Orchestra as a coordinator and public relations specialist. They needed someone with people skills, a good grasp of the English language and written/oral communication, experience working with professionals, parents, and students, and a background in instrumental music among other things. I looked down the laundry list of required qualifications muttering, Check, check, double check, double plus check, to myself, wrote a perfectly tailored cover letter to accompany my curriculum vitae, and sent it in.

For weeks, nothing happened. The job remained on the center’s page, and no one contacted me for further information or to set up an interview. To date, they still haven’t. In all likelihood, they never will.

Needless to say, I was more than a bit nonplussed by this. The only thing that could have put this job more firmly in the perfect category for me would have been if the phrases “must love baseball,” “must be willing to bring pets to work,” and “must be able to perfectly quote films old and new” were listed as preferred qualifications.  So why no call? Like the true resting place of Jimmy Hoffa, the depth of the Masons’ influence over the founding of the United States, or even the true name of the man who put the “bomp” in the “bomp-shoo-bomp-shoo-bomp,” it’s something I’ll never know.

Fast forward a month or so.

I get daily emails from job websites offering me part time blogging gigs for websites like the Examiner or technical writing gigs that I’m missing one qualification for, and I often delete them without exploring the full posting, wasting time that could be spent keeping my head above water in the job I currently have. However, one came through two weeks ago advertising for a copy writing position with In Touch Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia. For those of you who don’t know the name, In Touch is the printing and publishing ministry of Dr. Charles Stanley, the head pastor of First Baptist Church Atlanta. They manage a massive website, publish a monthly magazine, and, in essence, create all the printed matter needed to translate and transmit Dr. Stanley’s message to people around the world.

I read the qualifications for the position and knew that I had to apply. This was why the orchestra gig hadn’t panned out. I desired change, but my first attempt at it had been aimed in the wrong direction. I need to be using my talents not to enlarge myself, but rather to magnify Him. Well, unlike the symphony, In Touch did call, and an interview has taken place. It was a wonderful time for me, to be able to share my testimony and my desire to be used in a way that will allow me to fulfill my ministry, whatever it might be.

Now, I’m being tested. I’m being asked to be patient, something I don’t do very well. (Although, praise God, I’m markedly more patient than I was just a few years ago.) A week has passed, and the elation that came with the thought of moving into a new field in a place where my faith can be nourished and my talents used and honed has been tempered with a cold, hard week of silent days. I’ve carried my phone with me in hopes that I’ll receive the call that beings with the phrase, “Jamie, it’s my pleasure to tell you that….,” but it hasn’t happened yet. I’ve prayed daily asking God that His will be done in this matter if this place is where He wishes me to go next. If not, I’ve also prayed for Him to help me understand why His perfect plan might not include it. The answer will come when He wills it, not a moment before, and as Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers once sagaciously stated it, “The waiting is the hardest part.”

In past years, I would have been tempted to say “God is cruel” or “God doesn’t understand my problems,” but that is so far from the truth that I’m embarrassed to say that I actually once thought it. The truth is that God knows the desires of my heart; He knows me even better than I know myself. Seeking to understand the silence, I went to the book of Psalms.

David’s songs to the Chief Musician vary in subject matter—some praise His mighty works, others beseech him for deliverance from enemies both outside his kingdom and within it, and many celebrate His divine judgments, praising them for their righteousness, mercy, and grace. Portions of three of these divine songs speak peace to my situation and help to settle my soul.

The first is Psalm 144:3-10, which reads:

 LORD, what is man, that You take knowledge of him? Or the son of man, that You are mindful of him? Man is like a breath;
His days are like a passing shadow. Bow down Your heavens, O LORD, and come down; touch the mountains, and they shall smoke. Flash forth lightning and scatter them; shoot out Your arrows and destroy them. Stretch out Your hand from above; rescue me and deliver me out of great waters, from the hand of foreigners, whose mouth speaks lying words, and whose right hand is a right hand of falsehood. I will sing a new song to You, O God; On a harp of ten strings I will sing praises to You, the One who gives salvation to kings, who delivers David His servant from the deadly sword.

This has always been one of my favorite psalms because of verses three and four. David asks an often overlooked, but essential, question—Who is man that You even concern yourself with him and his piddly problems?  In the scope of His creation, we are tiny, a finite speck in the scope of God’s infinity. However, we are also the beings He came down to make. Unlike the heavens and the earth, the sky and sea, and the birds and beasts and creeping things He created, He came down to craft us with His own hands from a lump of lifeless clay and made us in His own image. It is His breath that fills us with life and makes us living souls. He created us for fellowship, and that is why He is mindful of us. It still amazes me that the God who created the universe and the beautiful planet we call home knows of my struggles and seeks to direct my life. I am hardly worthy of such attention, yet He loves me enough to give it. That alone is cause for celebration. This possible new job, so small in the scope of eternity, falls under His purview as well. There’s no cause for concern on my part. He will handle it as surely as He does the changing of the seasons or the conflicts between nations.

David then lists the mighty powers that are God’s, powers that know no limits. It is He who can move a mountain, separate waters, and scatter a seemingly insurmountable foe before His servant. It is God who “gives salvation to kings” and keeps them in His hand. No matter how great our power may be here on Earth, it pales in comparison to that of the Most High. David recognizes it and celebrates it because it frees him from worry, and this why he sings this new song to God.

Psalm 37: 3-8 is focused on trusting God in all things, not only with those things that seem impossible. It reads:

3 Trust in the LORD, and do good;
Dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness.
4 Delight yourself also in the LORD,
And He shall give you the desires of your heart.
5 Commit your way to the LORD,
Trust also in Him,
And He shall bring it to pass.
6 He shall bring forth your righteousness as the light,
And your justice as the noonday.
7 Rest in the LORD, and wait patiently for Him;
Do not fret because of him who prospers in his way,
Because of the man who brings wicked schemes to pass.
8 Cease from anger, and forsake wrath;
Do not fret—it only causes harm.

The message David seeks to transmit with this psalm is one of trust and patience. He asserts that we should dwell always in Him, speak to Him about the desires of our hearts, and maintain a constant fellowship with Him. If we give all that we are, our “way” to Him, He will “bring it to pass” in His time. We are not meant to worry or to compare ourselves with those who “profit in [their] way,” which is wicked. I may never be as wealthy or as powerful as those who scheme and who get ahead in this world under their own steam, and that, I’m coming to find, is the best way to be. After all, if I spend all my time and energy worrying about what others have or what I don’t, I run the risk of falling into anger, wrath, and worry—all of which damage my fellowship with Him. I must always delight in His judgments and His righteousness, even if I don’t yet understand them.

Also, if I worry and try to solve this problem on my own, that is as good as admitting my lack of trust in His power. It is me saying, “God, you aren’t strong enough or wise enough to manage this situation, so I’ll handle it.” This kind of change tests my faith, refines it in fire, and makes it all the stronger, but I have to be willing to undergo the forging. This is why I must always remember the words of the sacred song, “Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus” to keep my heart and mind focused on the right thing. After all, if I can “Look full in His wonderful face, …the things of Earth will grow strangely dim in the light of His glory and grace.”

The same message is contained in Psalm 40: 1—5.

 1 I waited patiently for the LORD;
And He inclined to me,
And heard my cry.
2 He also brought me up out of a horrible pit,
Out of the miry clay,
And set my feet upon a rock,
And established my steps.
3 He has put a new song in my mouth—
Praise to our God;
Many will see it and fear,
And will trust in the LORD.
4 Blessed is that man who makes the LORD his trust,
And does not respect the proud, nor such as turn aside to lies.
5 Many, O LORD my God, are Your wonderful works
Which You have done;
And Your thoughts toward us
Cannot be recounted to You in order;
If I would declare and speak of them,
They are more than can be numbered.

However, unlike the previous psalm that claims the certainty of a future blessing, this one states the message in the past tense. “I waited patiently,” he begins. As a result, God “inclined” to him, “heard” his cry, and “brought” him up from the mire clay in which he was trapped. David is praising a blessing received in this song; he is not simply claiming “God will.” Instead, he is telling us “God does.” It is a song of a promise made manifest. He sings of the amazing blessings from God, and insists that the praise from his mouth, his testimony, will bring others to a lasting trust in God. And David asserts that his are not the only prayers answered or the only blessings given. Instead, David asserts, “Many, O Lord my God, are Your wonderful works” and that “Your thoughts towards us Cannot be recounted to You in order” because “They are more than can be numbered.”

What do I learn from these three passages? Simply this—I matter to God. God promises. God delivers. It’s as simple as that. He does so in a way that is necessary for us and, more importantly, brings Him glory.

Change, as I asserted earlier, is hard. It requires us to step outside our comfort zone and trust in His will for our lives, knowing full well that His will may not coincide with our desires. However, His will is perfect and His judgments righteous. I will continue to pray for His will to be done in His time safe in the knowledge that I am His child and that He guides me rightly.

Following Marching Orders

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As I study the book of Judges, I see time and time again how God uses people who are seemingly insignificant to bring about mighty triumphs for His chosen people. Whether it was the left-handed man, Ehud; Shamgar and his seemingly insignificant weapon, the ox goad; Gideon who threshed wheat in hiding until declared a “man of valor” by God Himself; or even Jephthah, the son of a harlot, our Father had a habit of choosing unlikely heroes to deliver Israel from bondage.

Of the twelve men and one woman chosen to be the judges of Israel, only two worked as a “spiritual tag team”–Deborah and Barak. Naturally, whenever I see a break in a pattern, I assume that the divergence holds some special significance and merits further study, especially since one of them is the only female judge in the book.

As I read, I noticed quite a few references to trees and other forms of plant life in this book so far, and I’m sure each will reveal a new truth to me in time if I read with a careful eye.  For example, Deborah, as the author of Judges states, sits “under the palm tree of Deborah between Ramah and Bethel in the mountains of Ephraim. And the children of Israel came up to her for judgement” (Judges 4:5). According to my research, the palm tree (or the palm branch) is used as a symbol of victory. Hence, palm branches were placed before Jesus on His entrance into Jerusalem, and they often decorate the tombs of martyrs and other who experienced a triumph of the spirit over the flesh. Deborah, therefore, is well-placed under a tree of victory, and her people seek her out for council and judgement.

However, it is she who calls for Barak to come to her, bringing him up from Kedesh in Naphtali. She tells him, “Has not the Lord God of Isreal commanded, ‘Go and deploy troops at Mount Tabor; take with you ten thousand men of the sons of Naphtali and of the sons of Zebulun; and against you I will deploy Sisera, the commander of Jabins’s army, with his chariots and his multitude at the River Kishon; and I will deliver him into your hand’?” (Judges 4:6-7).

I find it interesting that, unlike the others who sought her out, Barak was called by Deborah but even more so that her words to him are so specific. She does not reveal anything to him; she does not tell him, “God told me to tell you….” Instead, she says, “Has not the Lord God of Israel commanded….” She is asking a rhetorical question. Therefore, it is reasonable to assume that God had already given Barak his marching orders, so to speak, but that Barak had done nothing with them since he heard them. It took Deborah repeating the missive for him to act.

God also told both judges specifics including the force to be met, the place of the intended battle, and even the inevitable victorious outcome! That, too, is also insufficient for Barak. He asks Deborah to accompany him to the battlefield, saying, “If you will go with me, I will go; but if you will not go with me, I will not go!” (Judges 4:8). Even after an order from God, one filled with specifics and predicting triumph, and a recapitulation of that order from the mouth of the prophetess Deborah, Barak still has neither the will nor the faith to ride up to Mount Tabor.

Even while they are there, Deborah has to crack the whip. She tells Barak, “Up! For this is the day in which the Lord has delivered Sisera into your hand. Has not the Lord gone out before you?” (Judges 4:14). Once again, using a rhetorical question, she scolds him into action. I noticed that Deborah uses the present perfect tense verb phrase “the Lord has delivered.” For those of you who aren’t grammar nerds like I am, here’s what makes that choice so interesting. Present perfect tense describes an action that happened at an indefinite time in the past or that began in the past and continues in the present as in “Nobody has climbed that mountain.” In essence, the victory had already been won; the Lord had already made it happen. It doesn’t read “The Lord will deliver” or “The Lord might deliver if…”

There is no Heisenberg uncertainty principle here. There are no unknown variables or x-factors. Barak is not dealing with physics after all, but rather with the God who is beyond even the metaphysical, He who called all things physical into being. There should be no doubt or indecision, yet in the man chosen to lead Israel into battle, doubt still exists.

The truth of the matter is that the Lord needed neither Deborah nor Barak to carry the day against the Canaanite army; thus, the passage from Judges reads, “And the Lord routed Sistera and all his chariots and all his army with the edge of the sword before Barak” (4:15). Barak was merely an agent used by God to carry out His good purpose. In fact, even his name lends symbolic significance to this fact. Barak means “lightning” or “thunderbolt,” and if one reads the Song of Deborah and Barak that follows the detailed summary of the battle, one can see exactly how God uses ten thousand foot soldiers against a superior force of nine hundred iron chariots, the old testament equivalent of a brigade of tanks. The song contains the revelation that, “…The earth trembled and the heavens poured, the clouds also poured water; the mountains gushed before the Lord, this Sinai, before the Lord God of Israel” (Judges 6:4). In essence, God sent forth a deluge from the heavens,  capturing the heavy wheeled chariots of His enemies in the mire, leaving them useless. A man whose name means “lightning” and a storm called from the heavens are all God needed to defeat the seemingly insurmountable foe and bring glory to His mighty name.

So what does this mean for a Christian? After all, this is material from the Old Testament relating the history of the Jewish people lost in their repeated disobedience, captivity, and defeat. However, I think the same lesson God meant for Barak is also pertinent to us, too. It is a fine thing to say we trust in God’s providence and goodness, but to actually lean on it in times of difficulty, especially when odds seem overwhelming, is another matter entirely. Absolute trust brings more complete victories, ones both physical and spiritual. God begins to bless each of us to an even greater extent when we are faithful rather than doubtful. Our faith is built and girded up in this way, making us mightier warriors in His service.  

For example, because he does eventually carry out the required action, Barak and his army are victorious, but not entirely. He is not permitted to kill the enemy commander and gain the glory that comes from it. It is as Deborah promised him before they left for Mount Tabor,  “…there will be no glory for you in the journey you are taking, for the Lord will sell Sisera into the hand of a woman” (Judges 4:9). The honor is given instead to Jael, the wife of Heber the Kenite. Unlike her husband who had broken faith with Israel, she remained obedient and true to her people. As a result, when Sisera comes to hide in her tent, she carries out an act of swift justice, driving a tent stake through his head and killing him instantly. She, another humble instrument, attains the final victory because she was willing both to listen to God and to act on His instructions without hesitation. As a result, her name and Deborah’s are the two we remember while Barak’s is often hazy. 

Like them, our joys and triumphs can only be truly complete and our service to God satisfactory when what is required of us is carried out in obedience and trusting faith.