God's Eyes

You know how sometimes, when God teaches you something, you're kind of thick-skulled about it so he keeps bringing it up?

Yeah, that happens to me kind of a lot.

So my last blog was about how God loves everyone just as much as he loves me. And how I need to see people with the kind of love he does. Only here's what happened next.

My neighbors were obnoxious again. Blasting music and talking outside my window late at night. And I thought about my blog and what I'd been learning, I really did. So I prayed for my neighbors and thanked God for the opportunity to grow in patience. I prayed that he'd help me reach out to my neighbors and love them more.

And when my prayer was done, I laid in bed and stewed anyway. And plotted about setting my alarm for 4 am to play ding dong ditch and see how they liked being kept awake.

Midnight is not my finest hour.

But then yesterday, I was editing a lesson about Jonah 4. That's the one after God spares Nineveh, where Jonah sits and stews about it. And then he wants to kill himself because his little vine dies. He is so absorbed in himself and the dumb little things in his life like a vine, and he's completely oblivious to the fact that maybe he needs an attitude check about the Ninevites.

Kind of like lying in my cozy bed stewing about how I can't sleep with my windows open because my neighbors are too loud? And plotting revenge?

The point of that lesson was that God wants us to love everyone. There's even an activity in it where kids make glasses with one lens that describes their view of someone they don't like, and the other lens describes God's view of that person.

And I thought...I need to see my neighbors through God-colored glasses.

But apparently God hadn't gotten the message through enough to me, because today in my Sunday School class we read this passage: "For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again. So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer" (2 Corinthians 5:14-16, emphasis added).

So that's what God-colored glasses look like. Not a worldly point of view, but a love that compelled Jesus to die for everyone. And that love is meant to compel us.

I'm gonna guess God has more to say to me on this topic, especially considering that this very clear challenge was given in the sermon: "Encourage a neighbor this week." And I thought, "ughhh...fine." So I think he still has some heart work to do. But I'm listening.

God's Love

Here's a quote from this week's sermon at LifeBridge:

"You and I are never gonna lock eyes with anyone who God doesn't love as much as he loves you." - Rick Rusaw, Senior Minister

Now maybe to many people, that doesn't sound particularly profound or jarring. But it was something I needed to hear.

Sometimes, I feel like I'm one of God's favorites. Not because I feel entitled or like I deserve his love more than anyone else—I know I don't—but because he's blessed me so much and I just feel such a great connection with him.

But you know how sometimes on the Bachelorette, guys that think they are a shoe-in and keep telling the camera they have the strongest connection with the girl...those guys end up going home? It's easy for them to think they've got a stronger connection because they don't see the girl's relationship with the other guys. They only see their own. And they make a comparison even though they only see the one side.

This quote was in the context of a sermon about James 2, where he says not to show favoritism. I'll be honest, I judge people far too often. How they dress, how they wear their hair, how they talk. And at least in my head, I show favoritism accordingly. But this passage tells us not to show favoritism because that's not a reflection of God. God doesn't show favoritism. I'm not one of his favorites because he doesn't have any.

When my neighbor felt it was a good idea to blast music for hours straight from his car...at midnight...God loved him as much as he loves me.

When my other neighbor let her 5- and 8-year old girls play outside at midnight on a different night, presumably while she was passed out drunk...God loved her as much as he loves me.

When the creepy guy came up to me in Walmart and starting telling me about math equations in Spanish...God loved him as much as God loves me.

When someone disagrees with me about religion or politics or moral values...God loves that person as much as he loves me.

When the people from Westboro Baptist who give Christians such a bad name picket at gay people's funerals...as hard as it is to believe...God loves those misguided baptists as much as he loves me. (And he loves the gay person who died just as much, too.)

I want to learn to see the value of others through the eyes of God. To see how even people who don't meet my standards of lovableness do meet God's. Which is pretty backwards since he is much more entitled to harsh standards for lovableness. I want to realize that I am no more lovable—or more to the point, no more loved—than anyone I come into contact with. I want to really get that in my thoughts, words, and actions toward others.

Fear God

So far this year in my meditation-focused Bible reading times, I have read Psalm 93, Psalm 103, and most of Psalm 139. And because I spend so much time reflecting on a single verse, I've been able to almost inadvertently memorize these passages, which I just review when I blow dry my hair and sometimes in the car. I've never been very good at memorizing Scripture (well, not since they stopped giving me stickers for it), but this has come so naturally and it's been wonderful to be able to keep reflecting on the Scriptures when I have down time.

There are parts of Psalm 103 that, if I'm only kind of half-thinking about reciting it, I get mixed up. That's because three times it talks about "those who fear him." So it's easy to lead into the wrong next part when I get to one of those.

I remember as a kid being baffled by this whole "fear God" business. When you're a kid, fear only means one thing: being afraid. And I feared snakes, but not God. I loved God, why would I be afraid of him? I remember asking about this in 5th or 6th grade and learning that this kind of fear isn't the scaredy-pants kind, it is a reverence. Like the way Biscuit sometimes gets convicted after finding a dirty tissue and brings it to me as a confession of his sinful ways, rather than chewing it to bits. He knows he would get yelled at if he chewed it, but what he really wants is to make me happy. Because he has this profund awe and respect for me.

And if I can get that kind of respect, despite all my shortcomings, God deserves it so much more. Like, infinitely more.

So. Psalm 103.

"For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his love for those who fear him."
"As a father as compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him."
"But from everlasting to everlasting, the Lord's love is with those who fear him."


Great love. Compassion. Everlasting love. These are the blessings (or "benefits" as the Psalm sets out to list) associated with fearing God. And—and this is just a thought—it might not even be that he actually loves those who fear him more. After all, he sent Jesus for everyone, and that was the greatest act of love. It might just be that by recognizing how small we are and how big he is, we are better able to glimpse his great love and compassion.