Just Jesus

I'll just go ahead and say it. I'm a slow learner. Or, perhaps more correctly, a stubborn one.

You would think that after 40++ years of being a Christian, I'd get it. And, of course, I do. Get it I mean. I get what being a Christ follower means. I get what living a life set apart should look like. I get that living for Jesus demands my whole heart. I get it and I want it and I pursue it. Well, most of the time. I mean, let's be perfectly honest... there are days where living for Jesus is not at the front and center of my heart and mind. More correctly, it's living for Robyn taking His place. And so, I need these constant reminders, these daily checkpoints to stop me in my tracks, keep me in line and help me refocus, renew and recommit.

As so often is the case, when God wants to get a message, He does it repeatedly. It happened that way this morning....

In addition to following a bible reading plan, I receive multiple online devotionals via email. This morning as I sipped my coffee and tried vainly to focus my bleary eyes on the email as viewed through my smartphone, I read the scripture accompanying the devotional. 

From Philippians 4.19: And my God will meet all your needs, according to the riches of His glory in Christ Jesus. 

The main thrust of the devotional was about running on empty-- forgetting to spend time daily with Jesus, refueling. It was a timely and gentle reminder for me as I had allowed a few days to slip away where starting my day with The Word had been forsaken in exchange for whatever else was clamoring for my attention. 

I laid my phone down and picked up my bible and journal to jot down some thoughts. Satisfied with my pondering, I returned to my phone to finish my email. As I scrolled down through the content of the next email what jumped out at me? Reference to not worrying about our own needs because God will supply them.... and, yes, Philippians 4.19.

Even as my heart thrilled in my chest I wasn't that surprised. It was so clearly NOT coincidence. God had my attention. 

I don't forget to eat. I need food to fuel my body and my brain and when I skip a meal or go too long between eating, I grow cranky, tired and sometimes a little shaky. So why do I allow my spirit to skip feedings? 

It has to be more than just a habit I lock myself into. It has to be the most important source I turn to, daily, minute by minute. 

Jesus. 
Just Jesus.

Love Without... Boundaries?

There's a lot of talk about having personal boundaries and not letting people infringe on them. We learn it is not healthy to let people take advantage of or step over those lines. When I wrote my post the other day with the quote by Oswald Chambers, it stirred up a lot of conflict for me.

Oswald challenges us to be doormats. That raised my hackles right away. I mean, come on! I was someone's doormat for 15+ years and I ain't never going back to that! I don't believe Christ calls me to live a life without safeguards in place. Does He? I'm struggling with this.

I understand that people who go into the mission field full-time make huge sacrifices. They give up financial security as they live day to day on the generosity of others. They sacrifice personal safety as they go into places deemed dangerous. They risk being persecuted for being a Christian. They face criticism from others who might not understand this crazy call on their lives, especially calls that might involve bringing your young children into the mission field with you.

But all I'm talking about in my own life, my own personal conviction, is loving those God places in my path, without reservation, without conditions, without fearing the risk of being hurt.

Let me tell you a true story. Strange, but true.

The other night as we were hosting guests and getting ready to sit down for dinner we had a knock at the door. Bruce went to answer it, me at his heels. There on our front stoop stood a young girl, maybe 18-20. Dark skin, tiny, pretty but dressed--and there is just no other way to say this-- like a hooker. We're talking cut down to there and up to here, short and revealing. And tight.  And her shoes? Bootie-type shoes. Definitely hooker shoes. She looked a little disorientated and her approach was shy yet her request was as bold as you please.  She wanted to know if she could borrow our lawn mower to mow the neighbors yard because she and her boyfriend were desperate for some cash.

Okay. Wait a minute. We've had people from time to time find their way to our door to ask for gas money or food and even once, a place to stay. I don't know how they pick our house out of any other house on the street but perhaps it has something to do with a flashing neon sign above our home with an arrow pointing down. ( I kid!) Somehow people seem to know that this house might grant them favor. (and for that I am grateful, in a mixed up sort of way, and we'll save that discussion for another post) Anyway, we've never had this strange of a request. Ask for money for gas, sure. But you want to borrow my lawn mower to mow someone else's yard? How did you know we had a lawn mower to borrow? What made you think we might say yes? How do we know you won't take off with it and try and sell it (crappy piece of machinery that it is, but still!)

My immediate reaction was NO WAY and I did my best to convey that thought through facial expressions that only my husband could see. But Bruce operates under slightly different principles than me. Walking with her down the driveway a bit so she could point out which neighbor needed a lawn mowed, he asked her why she chose our house. She told him Jesus said to ask us. (it's the neon sign and arrow!)

Short story is Bruce got the lawn mower out of the shed and with some instructions for operating our tricky machine, sent her down the road with it. I wasn't happy but I also know better than to argue with my sweetie when I can tell he has good reason for deciding this is the right thing to do.

Later in private Bruce and I discussed the randomness of this girl coming to our house for help. Bruce allowed that it was strange indeed, and certainly a little sketchy. But a lawn mower is just a lawn mower and he believes in holding on to material things lightly. He is always more interested in what is going on in a persons heart and head and if lending out a lawn mower will allow him a closer peek into their life in order that he might speak God's Truth, than so be it.

This is a prime example of love without borders to me. Where I would have said no way and closed the door and shook my head, Bruce stepped out of the house to learn more. In the process he heard her mention Jesus and a little more conversation took place because of that. She left to get better shoes on before she took the mower down the street and when she returned she was also wearing a t- shirt over her dress. The T-shirt was from a Mercy Me concert ( Christian rock band) Bruce made comment on the shirt and more conversation ensued. She allowed that she wasn't exactly living a life she should be and seemed to be kind of mixed up with some one not the safest and was trying to get her life straightened out. I am sure there is much more to her story and we can debate to the authenticity of her words but the bottom line for my husband was/is: love her. Love the lost. Love our neighbors. Love. Just love. And yep, you might get hurt in the process. You might be taken advantage of. You might get stepped on. But still, love.

Now I suppose if she took off with the mower and never brought it back and then showed up one day to ask if she could borrow our rototiller, Bruce would say no. Because why should we enable bad behavior? But in the beginning go ahead and take the risk sometimes.

I know my own conviction about loving fully comes from the relationships closest to me. As I said in yesterdays' post, I struggle in the relationship with my mom. As a child, I experienced more than one occasion of what borders on physical abuse from her hands. Emotional abuse was also part of the experience. But as a young mother I developed a better relationship with her. For some time we had a pretty good, fairly close relationship. As she has aged and certain things in her brain have changed, the communication process has gotten more difficult. The memories of those negative experiences of the past have a way of rising up and taunting me when she acts cranky. So I put up my guard to protect myself but as I do, I put a restriction of just how much love I feel for her will be let out.

This is the conundrum. I want to love. Fully. Completely. Without holding back. How do I do that while still maintaining some control over my life and keeping personal boundaries in place?

There are many people who come in and out of my life that we refer to as EGR's. (Extra Grace Required) How do I show love to them without getting sucked into their vortex of crazy? We say things like  "not my circus, not my monkeys" and laugh but does that mean I close the door in their face and miss the opportunity to share Jesus with them?

I don't have the answers to these questions plaguing me right now and I'm not writing this to try and convince anyone else that Oswald really does mean be a doormat. What if loving fully means becoming a doormat under other peoples feet? What if being poured out as a living sacrifice is the only way to truly experience a full life in Christ? Am I willing? Will I go there?

As I said yesterday, I want to say yes.I want to live a full life. I don't want to miss out on what God really has in store for me. Exploring this will be by the grace of God. I invite you to ride along with me and help hold me accountable. There will be more to come...

Half Full.... But Of What?

I've always thought of myself as a glass half full kind of gal, and sometimes even full to overflowing. I think it is significant to point out that even in my deepest darkest days of depression I've still felt my cup was half full.

This morning though, I was struck with the thought, half full of WHAT?

I guess it hit me as I was kicking a pair of shoes back into the closet, trying to take a short cut to putting something away, a short cut that ended up taking longer than just doing it the right way in the first place, because as I kicked, my little toe, which has been outfitted with a GPS specially designed for finding sharp corners, connected with the said sharp corner and the words that flew out of my mouth as I hopped on one foot, were nothing to be proud of.

This follows a day last week when I found myself screaming obscenities into the tub of my washing machine as I worked to untangle a pair of panties that had twisted itself around the agitator, sucking everything else in the wash into its vortex. The only thing that kept me from popping a blood vessel was to finally walk away knowing there was a chocolate bar in the freezer, and really, is twisted knickers worth having a hemorrhage over?

I've always known there were things to be thankful for, things to believe in, things to hope for. That's what makes me the glass half full person that I am. But when I find myself irritated by little things, when someone says something that sounds remotely critical and my first reaction is one of defensiveness, when I find myself erecting the old wall around my tender spots... well, that makes me wonder just where my attitude really falls in the glass empty/glass full category. 

What struck me this morning is that sometimes there's vinegar in my cup. 

So I ruminated on this, while rubbing my toe and then getting dressed (and why are these panties all stretched to hell? .........OH. Yah.) I knew there was some life lesson tied in with this and so I wouldn't forget this moment I posted something to that effect on my Facebook status. Then I went to my women's writers group and in the meeting room of the coffee house we meet at, I saw a poster on the wall of a mug spilling over with coffee beans that said "Half Full or Half Empty; it really doesn't matter if your cup is half full or half empty, it's what's in the cup that matters." 

Huh. 

Ooookay. Obviously this is a thought I DO need to spend some time on. Maybe I am an optimist, and filled with hope but there's a sour side to me that comes to the surface every now and again. I find it rises most often when surrounded by people I don't trust. I'm not talking about being discerning here. I'm talking about people whom I know have the capability of hurting me. People who I've let get close only to be stomped on. People I trusted only to be let down. People who've proved to be less than I believed they would be. 

Well, shoot, that's just about everybody in the world. We all fall down in our relationships. No matter how well meaning we are, we just fail from time to time. I fall often. I fail often. I've experienced it with family and friends and I know they've been on the receiving end of my foibles. 

What happens is that because I've been let down, I start coming to expect it. Take for example my mother. (Please, take my mother.) I love my mom. Of course I do. But she is, God bless her, NOT the happiest camper in the campground. I think it's safe to say my mother is a glass half empty individual. She can be cranky, difficult, sulky, cranky, obstinate, hard to please, did I say cranky? So, when ever I go to visit her, I go wearing my armor. I have come to expect that she will say something that will push a button. I expect she will be argumentative, she will whine, she will berate me and be ungrateful. I know for sure she's going to be cranky. And you know what? I'm usually right. She dishes out exactly what I was expecting. I was right to put up my guard. But in doing so, I find I hold back some of my love. My cup has vinegar in it.

I think about how Christ loves. Fully. Completely. Unconditionally. There's no vinegar in His Cup. And don't I, as a Christ follower, want to be more like Christ? Live like Christ? Love like Christ? Oh, that my cup would overflow, overflow with the sweetest honey. 

What will it take to ensure my cup is sweet? 

The fruits of the Spirit include love. I think that's where I begin. I state right here on my blog that I am loving fully but I am being convicted as I write this. I've placed conditions and restrictions on my heart. I like the idea of loving fully but if I am really honest with myself, I've been holding back. Sure, I can make a case for protecting myself but it comes right back again to living my life as a Christ follower. Ephesians 5.2 says "Live a life filled with love, following the example of Christ. He loved us and offered himself as a sacrifice for us, a pleasing aroma to God." 

In "My Utmost for His Highest" Oswald Chambers says "Are you willing to sacrifice yourself for the work of another believer—to pour out your life sacrificially for the ministry and faith of others? Or do you say, “I am not willing to be poured out right now, and I don’t want God to tell me how to serve Him. I want to choose the place of my own sacrifice."

In Philippians 2.17 Paul wrote: But I will rejoice even if I lose my life, pouring it out like a liquid offering to God, just like your faithful service is an offering to God. And I want all of you to share that joy.

Oswald goes on to say: It is one thing to follow God’s way of service if you are regarded as a hero, but quite another thing if the road marked out for you by God requires becoming a “doormat” under other people’s feet. ...  Are you ready to be sacrificed like that? Are you ready to be less than a mere drop in the bucket—to be so totally insignificant that no one remembers you even if they think of those you served? Are you willing to give and be poured out until you are used up and exhausted—not seeking to be ministered to, but to minister? 

Ouch. 

Yet I know, if I walk away from this conviction, if I shelve it until I feel stronger, or more ready to commit, I will effectively be denying Jesus. I already feel twisted up inside, much like those poor little panties were, and I know that God is calling me to go deeper with Him. If I want my cup to be full and sweet, I must respond. I must say "Yes."