When Forgiveness is a Sacrifice

I was prepping the kids worship folder last week and looked at the scripture passage our pastor was using for the message.
This part really caught me:

...and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God. Ephesians 5:2

I started thinking about proclaiming forgiveness or telling God we hope to forgive as an offering or sacrifice to God. I believe sometimes we aren't ready to forgive and forgiveness is often a process. The truth is, in some of my deepest wounds, I haven't wanted to explore what it means to forgive or felt the desire to ask God to help me enter into the forgiveness process. I've simply pushed the issues to the recesses of my mind and carried on. This scripture helps me to see forgiveness not as something we do for the offender, not something we do for ourselves (as is often taught), but as something we do for GOD. 

Wow… as I'm following and honoring God, I offer forgiveness as a sacrifice. 

This is one for me to chew on a bit. I believe God doesn't just want me to say empty words (for that wouldn't be honoring to God or myself) and I believe God doesn't want me to proclaim something that isn't true…so how can I offer forgiveness as a sacrifice even if I don't want to do it? Isn't this a definition of sacrifice? - giving up, doing what we don't want to, laying down when we'd rather hold on, etc. Merriam-Webster defines sacrifice as: an act of offering to a deity something precious. That definition helps me remember the power I have within me to forgive, which comes from the Holy Spirit, is of eternal value. In essence we offer a holy piece of ourselves back to God. 

Today I realize that I need to face the journey of forgiveness for one reason (and I'm sure there will be other benefits along the way) - I want to love as Christ loved. I want to sacrifice my WHOLE self to God, and that means not holding back a piece just because, "I'm not ready." So apparently my sacrifice begins now. Sacrifice is painful, beautiful, exhausting, and ultimately fulfilling when done for God. I can trust that process based on prior experience with the Holy Spirit.

Defining Strength

When God wants you to think about something, He allows multiple opportunities and perspectives to fill your head. I'm beginning to get a headache. It's heavy in there.

 A beautiful day at the Oregon coast. The crosses were a fun discovery!

On our recent our mini-vacation, I woke up, made breakfast, and sat down with a warm mug of coffee. I want a life defined by the health of my closest relationships. My strength lies not in what I can or cannot achieve, but in my dependence on God to order my days and embrace sabbath.

Besides engaging in a few conversations with my family and friends, a walk on the beach, and packing up to head home, I was about as unproductive as this mama can get. Strength? Maybe this is stretching it a bit, but I honestly believe the days set aside to relax, renew, and just enjoy life, build strength. In our culture being successful (strong) often means working hard, being irreplaceable, and multi-tasking. I've bought into those lies more times that I'd like to admit. The truth is - giving time and attention to my family and friends matters. This year I've struggled to create space in my life to be with and actually have friends. 

After the Boston Marathon bombing happened and the terrible explosion in West, Texas, the good ole USA was in shock. Our sense of safety was rocked as the unspoken vow we have with one another was literally blow apart...again. For all the fear that we have in this country, we're also a nation that tries to trust one another. We value life. When the bombs go off or the factory erupts, where's the strength? As Di Murphy pointed out to us as Women's Bible Fellowship, strength was found in the actions of the first responders on the scene - running toward the explosion. We continue to build those muscles when we help our neighbor. Our cites are full of people who feel vulnerable, afraid, and angry. Prayer matters. We are strong when we decide to accept our brokenness but won't be overcome by evil. We are strong when we love. We are strong when we choose Trust again.

During the week I met individually with four women who epitomize what it means to be physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually strong... even if they don't always see it this way. These women face a vast array of daily challenges. They are living proof of how reliance on God turns ashes into beauty.

Friday morning, April 19, I sat glued to the TV. SWAT teams, police cars, and a frenzy of media activity displayed another kind of strength: money, technology, information, and deadly force. We live in a country where if you want to "call in the big dogs," our dogs are HUGE. By Friday night the manhunt was over, thanks to the work of hundreds of people in dozens of law enforcement agencies and the general public working together. This kind of strength makes some of us cheer and some of us cry. I feel stuck in the middle, grateful that we have the power to capture "bad guys" and sometimes conflicted by the priorities and processes in which we do so.

 "God's Great Dance Floor!"

At the end of the week our family joined thousands of Believers at the Chris Tomlin concert. The Rose Garden Arena transformed into a sanctuary and we worshiped together for three hours. I stood hands held high and dancing with as much enthusiasm as possible in the twelve inches of space in front of my chair. The strength of the Holy Spirit filled me with gratitude. Tears streamed down my face as I joined the congregation singing about God's faithfulness. Yes, God is so completely and totally faithful! (You can't be "kinda faithful.") The tears continued as I stood behind my two daughters and my loving husband and I was reminded of my own failings. God's conviction and mercy overwhelmed me. My voice became a mere whisper as I stood in the embrace of Christ. Wrapped in love, secure in forgiveness. We celebrated. I lifted my arms above my head, they felt weightless.

It's taken five days to write this post. I'm realizing that no amount of writing and editing will capture completely what I noticed last week. There's frustration over how long it's taken me to simply say some things that I thought were simple and now feel like a big jumble. But before I give up and push "publish" I'm going to give it one last hurrah and fumble through my definition of strength.

Church inspires me. Sitting in the pew, listening to the sermon, scribbling down my thoughts, asking questions, taking notes, making to do lists. This is how I worship; this is how I work. Last Sunday I came home with this on my worship sheet:

If you can't read the chicken scratch, it says, "Changing what it means to be strong." From this one phrase boxed with a little arrow pointing to "Eternal Life." I came home with a desire to use many of the examples Gregg gave about "power coming through sacrifice and surrender" to redefine strength. The world tells me that being strong means being stoic in the midst of pain, using muscle and power to get my way, and to strive for independence and self-sufficiency. If a woman holds back her tears - she is strong. If a teenager uses his karate skills to cut down a bully, he is strong. If a family doesn't need to borrow or beg from the community they are strong. Perhaps these examples hold a measure of truth, but I believe Jesus turns these definitions upside-down in the Kingdom.

When we come undone, let it all hang-out, ball like a baby, and expose our most tender self to others, to God - we are strong. It takes strength to be vulnerable, open to attack, comparison, or ridicule. It also opens the doors to healing, help, and the power of the Holy Spirit. So I say let the cleansing messy tears flow. Allow pain to be present knowing it is temporary. Eternal life starts now and there is nothing stronger than resurrection power.

If we use physical strength to solve problems, have we really solved them? Reading the Old Testament I'm confronted with issues that are ongoing today. Fights for territory, power, control. People want to be right, to stand up for what they believe in, and to subdue "the other." For thousands of years humans have used muscles and might to dominate. Jesus shows us another way. A stronger way... submission, sacrifice. With Christ we suffer, in Christ we live.


If I don't need you and you don't need me, how do we love? Created to live in community, we deny the core of who we are when we choose separation and independence. Cheesy metaphor alert: If we compare humanity to a machine - that machine runs best when all of it's parts are properly maintained and filled with fuel. God is the master mechanic, and love is the fuel. You know...the power of love. Cue Huey Lewis. In perhaps the greatest mystery of all, love brings life. Jesus conquered the grave through love. To truly love is to serve and be served. I remember seeing this popular license plate in the 90's: He who dies with the most toys wins. How different life is in the Kingdom. If we dare to enter into eternity now, we choose life in community in which what is mine is yours, because it's not really mine in the first place. In the body of Christ we'll let each other know when we need help. We'll share our "toys." We will see love at work in one other and we'll use that power to define strength.

Family Photos

My family!

Long Term Impact

March 21-30, 2013 will forever be remembered in our family as the time we:
1. Left our precious dog Bella for waaaay too long.
2. Went to Mexico on our first ever short-term mission.

I'm anticipating a long term impact from Equipo (meaning "team" in Spanish). Honestly, the trip didn't shatter my world, like my first Compassion sponsor tour to the Philippines in 2010, or overwhelm me with the beauty of life-long relationships created during my visit to Honduras in 2011. But Equipo 2013 has changed me. I've seen the value of families serving together, and I can't stop thinking about how teamwork was reflected in every aspect of the trip. This incredible teamwork was a living example of the body of Christ.

From the year-round planning of the leadership team, the intense preparation work of the advance Equipo group, the skill, sweat, and dedication of the home-building teams, the adaptability of theVBS/Food gang, the faithfulness of the costura (sewing center) crew, the ingenuity of the chicken coop/rabbit hutch makers, and the dedication of the Nueva Esperanza church family, we were witnesses to the power that God creates through community. The work accomplished, the blessings experienced, and the miracles that materialized throughout Equipo were due to over 100 individuals being open to the Spirit. Out of this Love, God allowed us to see, feel, hear, taste, and touch more than we could have imagined.

From tiny trailer to a secure home!

A large group is bound to have many different "take aways" from such a complex mission. I could not begin to describe them all. I'm realizing I can't even do justice to the numbers of my personal experiences. This is what happens when you allow yourself to be placed in God's hands...you live an adventure too rich to adequately record! With tired eyes, weary from nights spent listening to the constant barking of countless dogs, I enjoyed gorgeous sunrises proclaiming God's majesty. With tears in my eyes, I held the hands of a Mexican mother in mine, as we marveled at the miracle of a home being built for her family in just a few short days. God's love and presence was evident in all things. I found joy in cleaning toilets and emptying the trash. Trust me, there is deep abiding peace ridding the church compound of piles of dirty toilet paper as often as possible! I practiced patience, learned my need for more kindness, and was a student of God's abundant goodness as I helped plan, prep, and provide Vacation Bible School for over 50 non-English speaking children. In the midst of poverty, once again hope overflows in the abundance of Christ's love.

Highlighting Page 83

I've used Sarah Parsons' A Clearing Season as the center of my Lent study. As I've soaked in these reflections for Lent, the beginnings of a rainbow has been created. Pink denotes last year's highlights, swaths of blue (a bit dark for a highlight color) mark the phrases I found particularly meaningful this year. It's quite possible that if I use Ms. Parsons book a third time, every line will be bathed in neon ink!

Today I finished up the chapter on consecration and holiness. Highlighter in hand, I surprised myself at how much blue page 83 was getting. This was a page on letting go and trust. This is the hard stuff for me. You know, "Jesus take the wheel" kinda stuff. Oh, page 83... every word so rich in truth. Hopefully with Sarah Parsons' blessing, I'll quote what I highlighted:

"Thy will be done...the most revolutionary words we will ever say."

"The prospect of relinquishing our lives to God's will can be terrifying, as it may have been at first for Jesus on that night of prayer in the garden. But this fear comprises part of a holy moment; it is endured and transcended so that God's will may be done."

"When we let go...we agree to take a secondary role in our life's project, allowing ourselves to be come servants of our growth rather than its masters."

"Abraham's willingness to sacrifice Isaac...this story is not a lesson in how to treat a son; rather it is a lesson in ultimate trust. It teaches us to put God's will before all else, even above our most powerful instincts and deepest loves, even above love like that of an aging father for his son. Abraham's willingness to let go of his greatest earthly joy demonstrated the extent of his submission to God's will."

"We transcend fear by letting go, by saying, 'Thy will be done.' and trusting that God's will is good."

In a Lenten season marked by the desire to deepen my faith, to relinquish control, and to have a deeper understanding of God's power - I'd say page 83 nailed it. I came into Lent with a heavy heart because of the rules, perimeters, and expectations I had placed on what and how my Lent should be. I will probably ALWAYS struggle with control. Wanting control, desiring to be "in the know" is a part of who I am and how God created me. But I'm learning day after day that a part of why God gave me a desire for control was so that I had something to offer Him. There are days when I am weak, worn out, overwhelmed, and feeling pretty inadequate. God says, "Great. just give me the control you're so desperately grasping for....you know, the stuff that is slipping through your fingertips anyway. The stuff that has you in knots, the circumstances you can't even control no matter what you know...give it to Me."

And when I do, I am freed.

Sometimes the freedom is forever when I let go. God gave us a memorable metaphor at Women's Retreat a few weeks ago. I won't ever forget the beauty of watching the sky lanterns take flight. When it was time to release each one, there was a gentle tug, and then the lantern lifted up quickly and effortlessly. As they rose in the night sky with speed and light, we stood there on the sand, looking up in awe, knowing we couldn't of held on to the burning balloons even if we'd wanted to; not without getting burned. Once out of our hands, there wasn't a way to retrieve them. They were gone, because they were doing that they were made to do...to go, go straight to heaven.

Then there are the things I try to and want to control day after day: my relationships, my kid's relationships, volunteers, schedules, my 14-year-old dog's arthritis pain, laundry, the weather (and my grumpy response to another rainy day), ETC. Deep sigh, so much et cetera. And perhaps when I look at God's grace, here's where the Holy Spirit's power is deeply rooted. Every day the Spirit mercifully allows me to say, "Here, take it. It's yours - again."

The story of Abraham and Isaac still scares me. With all my talk about trust, faith, and God's goodness, I still don't want to let go of my greatest earthy joys. Does anyone? I don't care how righteous you are, saying, "sure God take my kid" is an absolutely horrific thought. I've said countless times that I can't even imagine being willing to lose my 10-month-old puppy Bella. This is simply a sacrifice I don't know how I could choose to endure, let alone an actual human - I gave birth to it, raised it, and loved it child.

What I have come to recognize, what this clearing season has done in me, is to accept that my peace, my joy, doesn't always come from becoming a person who dislikes control. But rather, each day I wake up with more certainty that God is good, and I'm willing to place my offerings in the hands of my Lord.

So here I stand (or sit in bed) with two offerings before God: my control and my fear. Yes, yes, I'll give Him my love, devotion, acts of service too - the pretty stuff. But for tonight I want to remember that it's the ugly stuff (big and small) that God is also pleased with as an offering. Thy will be done.

Trusting Truth

In life we often say that something is untrue when it doesn't make sense. A child tells a story and we look at them with a sideways grin and say, "Well honey, that doesn't make any sense. Please tell Mommy the truth."

In our world when something is honest, right, shows integrity, or is trustworthy - the story, facts, details, and ideas usually fit together in a moral, scientific, or reasonable way. This is the kind of truth we can understand. For example: If the cookie jar is empty, it makes sense that little Bobby stole the last of the goodies when his parents weren't looking. It makes less sense (or seems untrue) to say that the dog jumped up on the counter, learned how to take the lid off the jar, devoured the last cookie, put the lid back on, and jumped back down without anyone seeing it. The doggie excuse seems even more unlikely when Bobby has had a history of snitching from the cookie jar.

As I ponder the idea of truth-telling, I'm re-reading the entire Bible this year. Last year I read it from the NIV Chronological Bible, this year I'm reading straight through Eugene Peterson's "The Message." My hope was that by reading a modern paraphrase of Scripture, it would make more sense. Fascinating stuff the Bible. And also quite unbelievable. I've come to the conclusion that no matter the translation, the Bible doesn't make much sense. God asks people to do ridiculous things. God's people act in grotesque ways (even when witnessing and experiencing God's miracles for themselves). Miracles, yep, those are pretty unbelievable too. I often find myself wondering why I chose Christianity as my religion. So much of the Bible and it's stories seem silly. As a follower you have to decide what is real and what is metaphorical, what is supposed to apply to ancient culture and what is relevant for today. You have to know history and context. It helps if you know Greek and Hebrew. You can go a bazillion different ways when deciding on "correct theology." To read the Bible is to find yourself tromping around Jericho for seven day blowing a horn, screaming at the top of your lungs, and watching a city wall crumble before your eyes. ( I just finished Joshua last night.) It means you believe God loves all people, but that at times He asks a chosen few to wipe out entire nations. Believing the Bible is hard, messy, frustrating work. Belief sometimes comes at a cost. The cost of understanding. There are many things about God I simply don't understand. I vacillate between wanting this Book to make sense and feeling at peace that God's story is so complex.

So silly as I am, I'm a Christian. I try to follow Christ. I choose to believe that Jesus was the son of God. I choose to believe that God does love and value all people. I choose to trust that God tells the truth even when the truth is incomprehensible.

Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long. 
Psalm 25:5

Untitled Post

Apparently Blogger doesn't let me use a strikethrough in my title. So the real title of my post is:

What I Have Want To Do

Relaxing and energizing well describe my Lenten season so far. I almost find that hard to believe when looking back at what I wrote for my first "individual exercise" from the book study A Clearing Season.

Here's my "wilderness" from week 1:
I come into every situation in my life with an agenda. I don’t just show up and wonder, “what will happen.” I have an idea, a plan, a purpose for the event, the meeting, the day, the relationship, the study. Uggggh. It’s those expectations that lead me to discouragement and frustration. Others don’t “play my game,” their responses don’t match what I have already figured out should happen. I feel trapped by my expectations and then doubly trapped when others/circumstances don’t fit my mold. I feel like in the past few years I’ve actually gotten better at releasing control in some ways (or at least realized to a greater degree my lack of it in some situations). I truly believe responsibility is overrated because it is so draining. I wouldn’t blame God for wanting to be “hands off” for a while…it must be exhausting work trying to coordinate a universe. Perhaps His power lays in the fact that He never stops. Never stops. Even on the Sabbath God heals, God redeems, God loves, and God is present and active. His rest looks very different than ours.

How do I step into Lent without an agenda? How do I not decide weeks ahead of time what this season is going to be about? I feel out of control, overwhelmed, and/or blocked by my desire to control and to see the finish line before the race has even begun to be run. This is my chaos. Even typing that feels scary. I don’t want to come into anything unprepared. And yet, even when I plan, I organize, I present.... I forget, I mess up, I mumble, I don’t do what I’ve prepared to do. It doesn’t look/feel like what I’ve dreamed or hoped. I stand back and like Beth Moore, say, “What was that?” It aches because I want to be good. I want to serve well, to make a difference in my life and in the lives of others. Uggh, the ugly “I” again.

I wonder if the desire to do well is the desire of the Holy Spirit to work through me, to use the gifts I have, or if it’s about pride. Am I fooling myself? Am I just grasping for attention and praise. Am I a praise junky? Do I still feel, in the core of my being, so lousy about who I am that my attempt at work, relationships, events, is really just about trying to create a “better” me not a window to God? Can it be both? Do I have to deem my self selfish or sacrificial? Can I be both? God, how do I work more out of a desire to sacrifice, submit, and serve out of love for You, not trying to gain love for myself?  Do I need to see myself more as a sinner or as a beloved child of God? Which view releases this desire to predict and protect outcomes?

I say I don’t want to “do” Lent, but in my mind, I’ve already done it…and it’s just started. I don’t want to flog myself for this…I know guilt is a lousy long-term motivator/solution. But it makes me crazy that I don’t release myself enough/I’m not open enough to let God take me ANYWHERE and do ANYTHING that HE wants to do with me in this wilderness. Talk about needing a clearing season. I need to clear out me to make room for God. I need to admit that truly doing that would mean that I have no idea what’s going to happen or be the focus of the next 6 weeks. 

So now fast-forward and it's week 4 of the study. What emerged out of that initial frustration was a desire to run and to blog as my Lenten practices. After confessing my need for control (even in the processes that are supposed to be God-led) I felt a tremendous freedom. God answered my request to release this season to Him, and so far it's been incredibly rejuvenating to sit down and blog when God's put something on my heart to write about - aka: not daily because I have to, it's Lent for goodness sake.  I've been on some runs, but then ya know, I fell. So running was out for a week. I tried running again and it was painful. I've been a bit irritated by the set backs I'm experiencing in training for the 1/2 marathon this summer, but overall I've had a sense of contentment (even laughter) at how out of control I've had to be with my running regimen. Again, God is showing me his redeeming love. I don't believe He wanted me to hurt my rib, strain my chest muscles, and scrape up my hand and knees - but I do choose to believe that God has taken that situation and used it to teach me that I can't predict and protect outcomes. I really truly cannot "do" Lent. God does. Hallelujah! 

God's helped me to shift my focus, release control, give me awesome options for Lent, and has faithfully shown his command. Feeling very grateful for the space to write about God's goodness this clearing season.