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.

Ms.

I can't remember a time as a kid when I didn't just dream of being married. That was my number one goal in life, especially once I hit my teen years. I daydreamed about my husband, kept a journal for him, prayed for him, set up a "marriage display" in my bedroom. On the few occasions where someone dared to raise the idea that I might not end up getting married, I was terrified. How could I possibly live if God had called me to be single?

It wasn't like the typical little-girl-dreaming-of-her-wedding-day kind of thing. I actually thought very little of my wedding day. I never put a pillowcase on my head and pretended to be a bride. I didn't think about what kind of flowers or cake I might want. I didn't keep a binder like Monica Geller's. I didn't care much at all about the wedding day. I just wanted to be married.

Well, I got married. And 5 years later, I got divorced. That was an outcome I'd never thought possible.

So now, I'm single again. And people will ask from time to time if I'm dating, or if I've thought about getting remarried, and so on. And while I'm not as opposed to the idea of remarriage someday as I am to the idea of having kids someday...I really don't desire it. If I never date or marry again, I can picture myself being quite happy with that.

I've gotten to a place where I love my solitude. 20 minutes in Walmart and I am just itching to be away from people. Granted, Walmart shoppers are a particularly obnoxious and unaware bunch. But when I unload my cart and sit down in my car, I turn off the radio (if it was on...I often prefer to drive in silence anyway), I turn off the vents, and I just bask in the silence for a few moments before I back out of my parking space.

On one such occasion, it struck me. I really love being single. Not just tolerate it, or have found peace with it. I prefer it. And that's not just because my marriage was less than ideal. It's because I am so autonomous. Deciding when to eat dinner and what to cook is all up to me. What food am I in the mood for? The fact that it is invariably some type of carb-on-carb meal doesn't have to bother anyone else. Because no one else is eating it. And I can be as anal as I want about how my house is organized. (Boy, am I ever anal.) I can decorate the way I want to decorate. I can spend my money the way I want to spend it. It's all up to me. Sure, Peanut puts in her say, but at the end of the day, I don't have to consider how anyone else would like my stuff. And I love it.

As I sat in my car in the Walmart parking lot in utter silence, realizing I love being single, I realized that perhaps...despite all my years of searching for my soul mate...I was actually wired to be single. Because I don't feel lonely. I don't wish I had a man to spend my evenings with. I love my life just the way it is.

There's this idea that if you're single, there's either something wrong with you or you're to be pitied. One Bachelor contest was mocked for being 31 and still single. What was wrong with her that she wasn't married yet by 31, said her competitor. As if being married, or at least in a serious relationship, is a better, more desirable life. And maybe it is for some. But for me...I really don't feel I'm to be pitied. Life is great!

Exuding Love

Sunday's sermon was about the church in Acts, having everything in common and giving to those who had need. The church in Acts is a growing, vibrant community. Every day God adds more people to their numbers. Sure, they are met with a fair share of naysayers (many of whom try to kill Christians, like Saul before his conversion), but that doesn't stop the church from growing.

Why? It's not because the church is culturally relevant. It's not because the church is entertaining. It's because the church exudes God's love and power.

I've made it a goal to pray for my church each day this week. And today I prayed a bit about this concept. For us to exude God's love within the body and to outsiders.

I heard a quote from someone's blog today that said, "Bigger and better are always trumped by different." That's what the early church was. And not different in a weird way, but different in a "wow...amazing things are happening and I want to be a part of it."

The Church in America and Europe is shrinking. And the onus is on all of us who are a part of it. If we're shrinking, it's not for lack of fog machines and rock bands. It's because the Church isn't known for its love. And yes, the media does like to highlight the Christians who focus more on hate than love, and that doesn't help us. But what if the rest of the Church was such a powerful force of God's love that anyone who saw media coverage on a couple of haters knew that wasn't what the Church was really like? What if we were really known for our love?

It starts with me. It starts with you. What am I doing to exude God's love in and with the body of believers I call my church home? What are you doing? It's time to let love be the beacon that makes people say, "Wow...amazing things are happening and I want to be a part of it."

Valentine's Day

Although I've shared the last five Valentine's Days with someone, 20 of the 21 before that were spent as a single girl. And the one exception was in seventh grade; that hardly counts.

And in all 20 of those single Valentine's, I never felt cynical or bitter like those anti-Valentine's people. (OK, no one probably cares at age two anyway.) I never felt the need to wear all black in protest. I never scoffed at the sappy cards or grew jealous at the bouquets that appeared for others. It was just a day that passed without too much thought, except the fact that on February 15 I knew I could a) get 50% off chocolate, and b) Cadbury Mini Eggs would go on sale for Easter. (And I looked forward to those same things in my married years! In fact last year Dan and I celebrated late so that we could get 50% off candy and cheaper flowers.)

But, having just filed for divorce and having a single Valentine's Day for the first time in several years, I wondered how I would feel when Valentine's started to show up. And last week, the true test happened: my city (very into Valentine's Day) launched its annual tradition of hanging up personalized wooden hearts along the main road that runs through the center of town. Romantics looking to surprise their true loves can pay to have their own hearts stenciled with loving messages and posted for all the town to read.

I've always loved this tradition, and this year was no different. As usual, I got a huge smile when I turned the corner and saw the first heart of the season hanging from a light post. So there it was: proof that divorce hadn't turned me into a Valentine's Day cynic. And here's to hoping I won't rear end someone reading all the hearts...

There is one day in February that I know will probably make me cry, but it isn't the 14th...it's the 13th. 13 years ago on the 13th, I adopted a beautiful puppy, who passed away last April. And this year will be the first "puppiversary" to pass without her in my arms. That's going to be hard. It's hard just to write about.

But I've got no qualms with Valentine's Day. I know I have plenty of people who love and care for me, two pups who worship me, and I'm perfectly content in my singleness right now. So bring on the 50% off chocolates and hang up more hearts!

Christians

So, I wanted to clarify something I think has come out a few times in my blogs. From time to time I complain about the things Christians tend to do. Like judge in the name of "accountability."

And yet, I am proud to say I love and follow Jesus. I am a Christian. It's like this song "Down in Flames" by Relient K.

Let me pause to clarify
Because I'm sure you're asking why
I stand before you and proudly claim
To be part of what this song proclaims


I'm part of the problem, I confess
But I gotta get this off my chest
Let's extinguish the anguish for which we're to blame
And save the world from going down in flames

The body of Christ has issues. It has problems. It's full of people who sin on a daily basis. I'm one of those people. I don't claim to live the Christian life perfectly, nor can I say I've never done the very things I complain about. I have. Many times.

And sometimes, this group of sinners, including me, do things that don't represent Jesus well. Unfortunately, those tend to be the examples of Christianity that tend to stick out. They get a lot more press. And even in individual lives, negative experiences just stick more than positive ones. So even though most of my Christian friends and acquaintances have not met me with judgment, those that have seem to be the ones that I remember more.

But I think Christians are capable of accomplishing amazing things for Christ. For all the times Westboro Baptist Church has shown hatred rather than the love of Christ by picketing at gay people's funerals, there's this: Christians who went to a gay pride parade to apologize. Not to condone anything, but to show love. Because that's what Jesus did with almost everyone he met. He showed love and compassion to the cheating tax collectors. The adulterers. The prostitutes. The outcast lepers. The only people he fought with were the ones that thought they had it all together. He couldn't help them because they didn't think they needed help. They just thought everyone else did.

There are some Christians, like those from Westboro Baptist, that act like that. Everyone else needs help, but not them. And those are the Christians who stand out. But those aren't the people who make up the body of Christ. When I read about strippers picketing on the church lawn after its congregants had picketed at their club, I cheered for the strippers. Because I don't think that was strippers vs. my fellow Christians. I think it was strippers vs. haters. And hate has nothing to do with Jesus.

But most Christians I know aren't haters. They aren't perfect, but they want to do what's right. They want to show Jesus' love. So don't take my complaints as general statements about what Christians are. I complain because it bothers me so much to see us as a group being less than what we can be. All I'm doing is trying to extinguish the anguish for which we're to blame so that together, we can do amazing things to show the world the love of Christ.

Learning to Love (Sacred Marriage chapter 3)

I remember remarking to my college roommate, "You know, this is good practice for marriage." Sharing a room, having to make sacrifices for one another, dealing with who will do what chores - these are all helpful things to prepare you for marriage.

But I never really considered marriage as a good practice field for loving others. That's what chapter 3 of Sacred Marriage focuses on. Thomas writes, "I think marriage is designed to call us out of ourselves and learn to love the 'different.' Put together in the closest situation imaginable...we are forced to respect and appreciate someone who is so radically different."

So often I feel misunderstood. Like there's no one who really gets me and loves me for it. But what if everyone feels that way? What if I'm so focused on myself feeling out of place that I'm neglecting caring for others who need to feel loved? I'm different from Dan, to be sure. But I'm radically different than most people I know. So maybe my differences in personality with Dan are helping me see how to love those I encounter every day who are different.

I do focus on myself more than anyone else. Maybe my puppies come in close. I don't think it's just me. "While our society has become expert in self-care, we seemingly have lost the art of caring for others." I can hardly criticize a society of selfish people when my own life is marked by selfishness.

So I'm going to try to adopt this perspective: marriage is a place to practice love. If I can learn to act lovingly toward Dan no matter what, I can learn to act lovingly to everyone around me.

One more quote I liked, it's by Dan Allender and Tremper Longman III, quoted at the beginning of the chapter: "Every marriage moves either toward enhancing one another's glory or degrading each other." I pray I can move toward enhancing Dan's glory.

Love & Respect

I've been thinking a lot about marriage lately. I'm in a Sacred Marriage blogging Bible study, and was just reading Ephesians about marriage. And I started thinking back to when our couple's group read For Men Only and For Women Only, books that give you insight into your spouse's mind.

One chapter, I believe the first one, talked about men's need for respect. It likened it to women's need to feel loved. And a lot of the women in our group struggled with that. I mean, we got it, but it seemed hard. Doesn't respect need to be earned? The book talked about how we expect our husbands to love us even though we aren't always loveable, so we need to respect our husbands even when they aren't acting respectable.

I'm just now starting to wrap my head around this. Here's what I figured out. The words love and respect are both verbs. But they are also both feelings. Our husbands are to always treat us with love (and vice versa), even when we aren't being loveable, because that's what Jesus would do.

And we are always to treat our husbands with respect, even when they aren't being respectable, because that's what Jesus would do. And that's how they need to be treated.

But that's all the verb meanings of the word. Like the way you might show love to a colleague who isn't treating you fairly. Or the way you might show respect to a terrible boss because you value your job security (or are just a good, respectful person). It doesn't mean you actually feel love toward that colleague or respect for that boss.

I don't think wives need to earn love, nor do husbands need to earn respect, when we're talking about the verbs. But the emotion, you do need to earn. Not in every moment, but big picture. For Dan to feel love toward me, I need to act loveably most of the time. If that's the case, he'll make exceptions for those unloveable moments, because he knows that at my core I am a woman he feels love for. Conversely, for me to feel respect toward Dan, he needs to act respectably most of the time. Again, if he is a generally respectable person but falters here and there, that won't impact my feeling, because I respect him as the person I know he is.

So...what do you think? Agree or disagree with my conclusion?

Marriage

So...Ephesians 5 is often cited as a passage about how to be married. Specifically, people look at verses 22-33, and they say that wives are supposed to submit to their husbands, and husbands are supposed to love their wives with Christ's sacrificial love, and that's what our roles are.

But reading it in context, I don't think that's what it means. Ladies, we don't get out of the sacrificial love bit. 5:2 says to a general audience: "Live a life of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God." Husbands aren't the only ones called to love with a sacrificial love. We're all called to love that way - not just our spouses, but everyone.

And men, you don't get out of submitting, either. Verse 21 says (still to a general audience): "Submit to one another out of reverence for Christ." Everyone is supposed to be submissive, putting others' needs before their own. Not just to spouses, but to everyone.

The call was tough enough when we thought all we had to do was submit to our husbands and love our wives. But as it turns out, we all have to submit and we all have to love sacrificially. It's how Jesus lived, after all.