Don't be a Bildad!

Poor Job, not only was Satan allowed to take every single thing he cherished in an attempt to get him to turn away from God, but on top of that he had to endure the undeserved chastisement of his friends. While the Bible clearly says that Job was being dragged through the fire of testing because he was righteous and upright, Job’s friends accuse him of bringing these tragedies on himself with his own sinful behavior. While all humans are sinful, Job’s sin was not why he was suffering. Job was suffering because God said to Satan, “Hey look at this guy. Isn’t he righteous? Doesn’t he love me?” And Satan said, “Yes but he only loves you because you have given him everything he ever wanted. Take that stuff away, and he’ll stop loving you.” (Of course this is Jami’s paraphrasing of the conversation.)

I always shudder when I get to the part about Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar. Job’s friends must be the Bible’s best what-not-to-do example in the area of friendship. When I am reading the story, I have the benefit of knowing exactly why Job was being tested. Therefore, when I get to the part where Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar start to accuse Job, I get very uncomfortable. How stupid they look! How wrong they are! They are accusing the very man God called righteous! They are telling Job to confess and repent, when what God really wants of Job is to hang on and to stand strong.

When I am faced with a friends suffering, I try very hard to live by these words: My dear brothers, take note of this: “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.” (James 1:19) Not only do I steer clear of accusations like those of Job’s friends, I also refrain from even giving advice. I reason that if someone doesn’t ask for my advice, they are not ready to hear it. Sometimes I think we assume that because someone is pouring out their heart to us, they are subconsciously asking for our opinion. Not good enough for me! I wait, no matter how deep the teeth marks in my tongue get, I bite my tongue and remain slow to speak. Even after I am specifically asked for my advice, I proceed with great caution. I proceed slowly because I know the pain of suffering. I know how sensitive and raw it makes your heart, and I know how even the words of a well-meaning friend can become as painful as lemon juice squeezed in a paper cut. I proceed slowly also because I know that no matter what I have been told, no matter how much I know of the situation, I can never know the whole thing. I can never know why a person is struggling through something. I can never know for sure what God has for that person to learn. Therefore I proceed slowly, hesitantly, and gently. I do not ever want to be lemon juice in someone’s paper cut. I, instead, want to be a soothing balm of honey poured over a raging wound.

Some might counter my argument with another verse in James, “remember this: Whoever turns a sinner from the error of his way will save him from death and cover over a multitude of sins.” (James 5:20) I guess my only response to that argument is: I do not believe that the time of great suffering is the time God wants us turning sinners from the error of their ways. I believe that the suffering need to be pointed to God without condemnation. I have been involved in youth ministries, teaching, and coaching for many years. This has meant decades of dealing with teenagers. More often than I care to admit I have come face to face with a young girl, not married, who finds herself caught in the consequences of her sin. She’s pregnant, and she doesn’t know what to do. Many at that moment might see themselves as the voice of God calling out her sin to make sure that she realizes all she has done wrong. I see my role in that moment differently. I believe that for the next 18 years and more, that woman will be reaping the consequences of doing things out of God’s order. I have watched so many of them face condemnation and rejection from God’s people, when what they really needed was to experience grace, what they really needed was someone to come along side them and offer a hand to help them get up, someone to take a clean cloth and wipe away at the mud of sin stuck to their face, and someone to put their arm around them and help them limp back to the path of God’s will. So what I do is hug that girl. I offer as much financial and emotional support as I can. I give hand-me downs, I lend a listening ear, I buy a baby present, and I celebrate the beginning of a new life. I do not say even one word about waiting until marriage to have sex.

While “There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven:” (Ecclesiastes 3:1), I just have never believed that suffering is the time for accusations or even instruction. Oh how different it would have been if Job had been greeted by friends who were like cheerleaders, chanting, “Don’t give up! Don’t give up! Don’t give up!” How much would the situation have changed if Job’s friends had been like a warm blanket on a freezing night? If his friends had comforted him instead of accusing him, how would the story have gone?

The next time you encounter a friend who is suffering, the next time you see someone flat on their face in the mud, don’t be a Bildad! Whether the mud that person is lying in is the muck of their own sin or the slime of Satan’s testing, your friend needs the same thing: your support, your encouragement, your assistance, your prayers. Your friend needs to be reminded that God loves him/her. Your friend does not need a friend like Bildad.

Eyes on Heaven; feet on the ground

On Sunday in church, our pastor showed a great video clip about the rapture. All week long it has been on my mind. The troubles and stress of this earth make me long so desperately for Heaven. I see illness, suffering and hardship all around me. It seems like every day I hear of a new person battling cancer, someone else who lost a loved one, or another job which fell victim to this terrible economy. Then there’s the stress…oh the stress. Each morning I wake and immediately begin my frenzied pace. I start the coffee and the laundry; get John up and off to work. I pray, read my Bible and blog. Then I take a quick break to run down and switch the loads. I hurry to get my work calls in before too many children awake. After working, I direct the kids to start their morning chores and lessons. Then there’s more laundry to be done, a load of dishes for the dishwasher, and a bit more work before feeding them lunch and putting Hannah down for a nap. Then it is afternoon work for me and lessons for the kids followed by more chores for the kids, more loads of laundry for me, and a quickly thrown together dinner. I rarely have time to exercise, and only occasionally do I get a few moments of downtime. Some nights we have soccer practice or Bible club or youth group kids coming over. AHHHHH! Most nights I find myself dropping into bed somewhere around 10 p.m. thinking of all the things I did not get finished and before I know it the alarm sounds and I am off to the races again.

All of it just makes me LONG to be in Heaven. I want to be walking the streets of gold. I want to just sit at my Savior’s feet basking in His glory. I want to praise Him without interruption or distraction. I want to be done with pain and sorrow and tears. I want stress to be a thing of the past and hanging with my Savior to be the only thing on my to do list.

Alas however here I am still on the earth….what to do? what to do? At the end of each day whether I have a completely checked off to do list or a ton of items still pending, whether cancer has won or been defeated, whether all is well or not well, I have to keep my eyes on Heaven and my feet on the ground. I just have to keep gazing forward to the day when I am standing before Him while working hard on all the things God is calling me to complete this day. It is hard because my spirit groans inside of me. I long for what is to come. Yet that is not what God has called me to this day.

So join with me please. Turn your head up and get your eyes on Heaven. Can you see those streets of gold? Can you hear the angels praising Him? Can you feel that longing to be with Him? But be careful! Keep your feet planted here on earth, because there is oh so much to do here before He returns.

Press through... Press through... Press through....

I love to worship. It is something I do when I am folding laundry, driving down the street, even taking a shower too. It is my favorite part of going to church. I love to sing praises to my Savior. Lately I have been having a VERY hard time worshiping during church. The reasons why are many and varied, but yesterday the root cause started coming together in my head: Satan does not want me to offer praise to my God.

Now I am not one to see a boogey man around every corner (okay maybe I am a little bit), but I believe strongly that the devil is a real presence and that his one goal is to destroy me. This belief is proven by scripture: Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. (I Peter 5:8) Yesterday as all the distractions assaulted me, I realized this is Satan attacking me. As I let that thought roll around in my brain, I realized that Satan’s attacks to my worship begins LONG before I even walk through the doors of our church.

I know you’ve noticed it. Haven’t you? Sunday mornings can be SO stressful: a lost shoe, alarm that didn’t go off, misplaced Bible. One time I even got a speeding ticket on the way to church! Before you know it, you are arguing with your spouse, shouting at your child and not at all in the right frame of mind to go worship your Creator. We have noticed this phenomenom. In order combat it, the second we get in the car to drive to church we start to pray. We pray for our hearts to be softened and for our spirits to be drawn to the things of God. We also pray for other families on their way to church that peace might reign in their homes, their cars, and their hearts. This has really helped to calm the discord, but Satan doesn’t give up that easily.

If somehow I make it to church and into the sanctuary with my desire to praise still intact, Satan seems to step up the attack in order to get my eyes off of God. Sometimes the distractions come from wrong notes being sung, improperly advancing slides, or other technical difficulties. But yesterday, my biggest source of distraction was my beautiful children. I was standing there trying so hard to press through the distractions all around me, and my kids were hanging on me, hugging me, even racing about the sanctuary. This is the moment at which I realized what a sneaky, snake the devil is. Here he was using my favorite thing on this earth, my babies, to distract me from worshipping my God. I calmly directed my children to praise or sit quietly still returned to lifting my hands and praising my Lord. I could hear one though echoing through my brain, “Press through…. Press through… Press through….”

Sometimes it is not easy to praise God, follow God, hear from God, but we have to press through. We have to press through the distractions of children interrupting our worship, dirty dishes calling us to step away from our study of the Bible, and sinful tendencies calling us to turn away from our God. We have to press through!

No matter how big the distraction, I hope today you’ll hear this thought echoing through your brain, “Press through… Press through…. Press through…” And next week Sunday when you wake up, before you even put your feet on the ground, remember: For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. (Ephesians 6:12). Then purpose in your heart to say, "Get thee behind me Satan!" every time a distraction comes your way. So that in the end you can stand, focused on your Savior, and singing the praises He is due.

Rain

“Momma, can you pray to Jesus that it won’t rain?” I have often been asked this question. Today as we stood on the soccer field with dark clouds looming in the west, I was asked it again. Jeremiah has struggled with a bit of a weather phobia for a few years now. He is typically the one who asks me to pray that the storm won’t come. Whenever he asks this, I cannot help thinking, “But the rain smells so good! The sound of the rain pounding on the pavement is so soothing. The boom of the thunder is so exhilarating.” I have tried before to school Jeremiah on the benefits of the rain. I tell him how rain helps the grass and trees to grow. I explain that rain rinses away the dirt on the streets. I marvel at the way a storm reveals some of God’s glory. All of these lessons fall on deaf ears, because Jeremiah can only think of the fear which arises in him during a storm.

It is similar to my reaction to the storms of life. I want God to calm the storm. I want Him to stand up in the boat and say, “Peace be still.” I want Him to calm the wind and the waves of hardship with just His quiet words. I struggle with a bit of a hardship phobia. I just want God to make the hardships go away. I most definitely miss some of the good smells and soothing sounds of hardship because I am shaking in my boots praying to Jesus that it won’t rain.

When Jeremiah wants me to pray that it won’t rain, I usually respond by saying, “Jeremiah, I can tell it is going to rain. I can see the dark clouds, and I know what they mean. It is going to rain. Why don’t we pray to Jesus to keep us safe through the rain? Let’s ask Him to protect us during the storm.” This is the beginner level I encourage my seven-year old to aspire to. Face a storm by asking God to help you weather it instead of begging him to take it away.

But there is an advanced level too. Eventually I want Jeremiah to get past beginner level to a more advanced level. I want him to get to the point where he can master his phobia and appreciate the benefits of the storm. This is the level to which I aspire as well. I want to get to the point where I not only ask God to help me weather hardships but where I can actually appreciate the benefits of them. I also want to lessen the amount of time I spend whining about the impending storm, quickly moving through the part where I ask God to protect me, and I want to reside in the place where I can see clearly the good God is bringing through the hardship. That is the expert level to which I am aspiring. Today’s storms reminded and encouraged me, and I hope they did the same for you too.

On potty training regression and sin

“Hannah pooped on the floor!” I am getting so tired of hearing those words. Our little princess has been sliding down the slippery slope of potty training regression for several months now. She was completely potty-trained at the beginning of last fall, but since about January, not so much. Her most recent setback is in the area of “number two.” For our little diva, it is not enough that she fails to make it to the potty when she has to go “number two.” Nope! She is so independent that she has to try to rid herself of the mess because she doesn’t like it in her underpants. Last night my bathroom looked like someone tossed a poopy diaper grenade in there. At least twice, I heard shouts of, “I stepped in Hannah’s poop!” It seemed we kept finding little “care packages” tucked away in different places around the bathroom and beyond. The smell was overwhelming, and the clean up was torturous to say the least.

But come on….you know me right? You can feel me heading toward the lesson. Are you thinking, “DISGUSTING! How in the world is she going to turn that YUCK into a lesson from God?” Ladies and gentlemen, I do NOT turn them into lessons from God. He does, and here’s what He revealed to me.

How often are we like Hannah? We sin, and try to clean up the mess by ourselves. But what results is a nightmare of poopy proportions. As we try to clean up the sin by ourselves, and sometimes long after, we keep finding remnants of our sin tucked away in unexpected places. Sorrow or pain the sin brought or a tender spot left by the hurt of the sin or that sense of shame when the sin flits through our mind. And the stench! Ahh the stench of our sin! It is overwhelming and makes our attempts at clean up so torturous.

But imagine this. Imagine if Hannah had not tried to clean up that accident by herself. Imagine if she had trotted down the stairs, uncomfortable from the mess in her pants, but contrite and looking to her mother for help. I would have carefully removed the offending underpants, cleaned up the mess on her, and taken care of the soiled clothing. The floor would not have had to be cleaned, seventeen towels and three shirts would not have been stained, and the entire upstairs would not have smelled like it desperately needed to be fumigated.

Let my daughter’s poopy problem bring you to your senses today. It is humbling and uncomfortable to turn to God with our failures, but He is much better equipped to deal with the mess we made then we are. He will take our sin (every single time we commit it), clean us up, and care for the mess we made. We just have to humble ourselves and go to Him.