Smile, God Loves You (??)

There has been a very interesting conversation going on over at William’s (Suppressed Truth in Church and Faith) blog. Lots of great comments. His post is on whether or not there is real evidence of God’s love for us as we go through life, or is His “love” for us simply a means to an end, i.e. carrying out His plan of redemption for His own glory.

Following this dialogue has got me to thinking about the love of God. I am asking myself some questions:



If I can’t believe that God loves me, how will I ever convince an unsaved person that He loves them?



Is it even up to me to make them believe that He loves them? God’s “love” is not the same love that we have for our fellow humans. (For an excellent exposition of “Agape” vs “Phileo” love, see one of Adam’s comments on William’s post.)


How can I prove God's love to persons who are as yet unaware of their true standing before a holy and righteous God?

How can I argue against the reality of sin and suffering in trying to prove that God is loving, when He is able, in His sovereignty, to stop suffering in the world?

In my musing, I was reminded of a situation in my life several years ago. My brother had a son with a girl (I’ll call her Becky). She and my brother did not stay together, and she eventually moved to another city, and became engaged to another man. This little boy (let’s call him Toby) was diagnosed with Leukemia. He began treatments, and many complications ensued, keeping him in hospital for several months. Becky was with him night and day during that time.

I had lost contact with Becky, but started talking to her regularly after I found out about Toby’s illness. He was 5 years old. It was all very difficult and sad. I brought these needs to my church at prayer meetings, and we prayed diligently for him. Several times he was gravely ill, with hemorrhaging, strokes, pneumonia. But he pulled through. We thanked God for bringing him through these crisis. Becky was encouraged, and kept a Bible on Toby’s nightstand. She prayed along with everyone else, and believed God would heal her little boy. (I should add that Becky was not a believer).

Days after his 6th birthday, Toby became well enough that the doctor was allowing him to go home on a pass on the upcoming weekend. Needless to say, all involved were elated. He really was doing better. Becky took a picture of him sitting in a wheelchair and drawing that same day.

Late that night, as Becky was in the hospital room with him, Toby suddenly started to hemorrhage from his nose and mouth. Becky yelled for help, and medical staff worked frantically to save him. All in vain. He bled to death, in front of his mother, his eyes wide with fear as he stared and her, beseeching her to help. This is the last memory she has of him alive.

In the months following his death, Becky and her fiancé moved back to my city. I began visiting her regularly. It came to light that many errors had been made in Toby’s treatment. Becky became consumed with the details surrounding his death, and went through agonies of regret that she had not moved him to another hospital.

In all my visits to her, she confronted me with questions. I am sure you can guess what they were. How could a God of love take a little boy? Why did he bring him through all those times, only to let him die in the end? Why did he let the doctors make so many errors? And guess what? I didn’t know how to answer them.

Becky’s only consolation was that she believed she would see Toby in heaven some day. She asked me what heaven was like. Would Toby be happy there? Would he be missing her as much as she missed him? Her grief knew no bounds, as we can all imagine.

During these months, my church was doing an “outreach” program. It consisted of bringing unsaved people into the church to watch a video and have a discussion around Christianity (no it wasn’t the Alpha Course). The videos were very good in explaining the gospel, including the reality of our sin and need for forgiveness. I asked Becky if she would like to watch the videos, and she agreed. So for many weeks I borrowed the video from church, watched it with her at her apartment, then returned it the following Sunday.

Of course, in hindshight, I realize how ridiculous it was for me to do that. She was in the throes of mourning. She needed to be allowed to grieve. She was still in a state of emotional shock. Her pain was so great, it overwhelmed her mind and her emotions. She was in no position to give thoughtful attention to a series of videos on Christianity. They didn’t explain to her why her little boy was dead.

It's not that I didn't support her in other more practical ways, and just "be there" while she expressed the many painful emotions that she was experiencing. But I did feel a certain pressure to show to her, shomehow, what the love of God really means. I wanted her to see the reality of sin, its consequences, and God’s remedy in Christ. All well intentioned, but foolishly ill-timed.

OK, all this to say that when it comes to “proving” to unsaved persons that God loves them, we are always going to end up presenting a false “God” if we rely on anything but the Cross of Christ to be that proof. If we try to point out His “temporal” blessings, such as providing their needs, keeping them safe, healing their diseases, they will soon come up with ways to prove that in fact He musn’t love them, as so many tragic things are happening. If not to them, then to many, many people in the world. How could this God love people if He allows such suffering?

The title of this blog comes from a bumper sticker that I have seen around town. Whenever I see it, I am irritated; it proclaims a half truth. It needs to say “God loves you, but He is very angry with you because of your sin”, or “God loves you, because” and then a picture of the cross. (Not that I think bumper stickers are a particularly effective way of bringing the message of the gospel).

It seems to me that the best proof of the love of God to unsaved persons is in the Cross. Jesus, as He ministered to people, was kind and loving. Yet for those that came to faith in Him, it was the reality of their sin that brought them there. It was realizing that He was the Pearl of Great Price, worth more than anything this life had to offer, be it riches, comfort, good health or success. It was knowing that Jesus Christ could heal their sick soul, and that was the most urgent need of healing that they had.

Faith in Christ brings about a new perspective; one that is focused on eternity more than on this earthly life. It is only the made alive spiritual man that can understand these things. Otherwise, they are foolishness. Our natural tendency is to have a man-centered theology; a “Me-ology”, putting ourselves in the place of greatest importance; our comfort, our needs, our “happiness” in this life. But scripture gives much credence to the ultimate importance of eternal things. It also re-directs our attention to God as the Supreme Being, and ourselves as His much-less-than-perfect creation.

I see much nowadays in the realm of “Spirituality” that offers a false “God”. It is a god who lives to meet our needs, who loves us like a kind old grandfather, or magical Santa Claus. And when bad things happen? Well, I guess this god just couldn’t quite prevent them, so he likely feels real sorry for us, and so should we, for ourselves. It is a weak, powerless, less than holy god, whose time is spent in trying to prove his “love” to spoiled, self-centred creatures. He does not demand repentance, or obedience, or sacrifice, but lives to bring “happiness” and self-fulfillment. Truly a god of our imagination.

This isn’t to say that we shouldn’t exhibit the love of Christ to others. There is a patient, compassionate, condescension in the way our Creator views us. Along with the wrath that hangs over our heads, there is a desire on His part that none should perish (2Peter 3:9). Scripture does say that it is His kindness that leads us to repentence:

“Or do you think lightly of the riches of His kindness and tolerance and patience, not knowing that the kindness of God leads you to repentance?” (Romans 2:4)

I struggle with this issue a lot. I want to tell people that God loves them. But when they ask me to “prove it”, I know I am in for a debate, unless the Holy Spirit has made ready their heart to hear the good news of forgiveness through Jesus Christ.

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life.” (John 3:16)

Any thoughts out there??

One of My Favourite Things.............

This pic should really go with a post on my other blog (Our Best Rest), but it just happened yesterday. Margaret fell asleep snuggling with me. I had to be very still, just sit there for an hour so's not to wake her. Couldn't resist taking a picture, as she fell asleep with her little hands under her chin.

There is nothing more soothing to me than to have a sleeping baby or child in my arms. It's as though their innocent trust and worry free slumber transfers peace to my soul as I cuddle their warm little bodies and feel their tiny chests rise and fall with each breath.

I think of how much I love my children and grandchildren, and I know that my love for them cannot hold a candle to the everlasting love my heavenly Father has for me, and for all His children.

This is how we should live each day. Resting like a sleeping child rests in their mother's/father's arms. A picture of total trust and peace. That is the reality of His love and care for us.

"The eternal God is your refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms."

(Deut. 33:27a)

Hilarious!!

Can you relate?????

Remember Summer?????

This is Margaret, getting cleaned up after playing in a heap of sand. I meant to simply sluice her off with the water, but she jumped right in. What a photo op!!!!!

(Some cute, eh???)

A Christmas Wish

I’ll spell out in a little rhyme
My wish for you this Christmas time.

This season, special though it be
Is not the only time, you see

To celebrate and praises give
For what God did so we might live.

We love to look with tender eyes
On Baby Jesus, where He lies

And wonder at Him, sweet and mild
This precious, tiny, Saviour Child.

But did you know that even now
He reigns above, and we should bow,

Give worship, honour, and adore;
He’s not a baby anymore!

He grew up like us, so He knew
All that we face; He faced it too!

He knows our greatest need is met
When He forgives our sins, and yet

We still resist, and He must move
To open hearts, and to us prove

That He is all we’ll ever need,
And in us place one tiny seed

Of faith that saves, and holds us fast
Until we see His face at last.

And so my wish, my prayer for you
Is that in grace, He would so do

If you have not Him yet received
Into your heart, then I would plead

That you might please consider then
Long past when Chrismas Season ends

This Jesus Christ, Who owns each day;
He is the Life, the Truth, the Way.

I Miss Christmas

Christmas holds many memories for me. As a child, I experienced the anticipation and excitement that is common to most children. Lying in bed on Christmas eve, unable to sleep, listening for the sound of reindeer hooves on the roof, imagining what kinds of wonderful presents there might be in the morning. Coming downstairs while it was still dark, to find stockings hung over backs of chairs (we had no mantle to hang them from), usually my dad’s work socks, filled with candy and nuts with an orange in the toe. Seeing my parents’ bedroom door closed in the days leading up to Christmas, knowing my mom was in there wrapping presents in red and green and white tissue paper. My mom up long before us Christmas morning, busy in the kitchen with stuffing and pies. The table set with Christmas themed serviettes and mom’s best dishes, and always a Jell-O salad. The living room linoleum, having been coated with paste wax by mom, brought to a gleam with the electric floor polisher. Decorations hung all around, and of course, the lovely aroma of the Christmas tree filling the air.

There are also memories that aren’t so pleasant. Realizing how hard my mom worked, and how tired she was throughout the whole day. She tried to make the best Christmas that she could for all of us. Memories of when my dad was laid off from his job, and my mom bringing home a bag of toys from the department store where she worked part time. Him telling her she had to take them back, as we couldn’t afford them.



At some point I began to feel guilty about my presents, as they represented her hard work and sacrifice, and I would have rather gone without than see her go through the anxiety and exhaustion every year. Memories, too, of that sad feeling when the day was over. You wanted it to last forever.

When I grew up and had my own family, I think I was more exited than my kids were. I was likely the last one to fall asleep, as I anticipated their joy and excitement in the morning. Hours spent shopping, and wrapping, and planning, and cooking and cleaning. I looked forward to Christmas, but also dreaded it. There was always the pressure to “make” a good Christmas, as though it was all up to me, and in many ways it was. Still, it was a good time with family, and always that indescribable Christmas spirit in the air.

After God saved me, Christmas became something else again. The first time I heard Christmas Carols as a believer, I wept. It was as though I was hearing them for the first time, the words so rich with meaning that I had never grasped before. Christmas became more about Jesus, and less about gifts, though I loved the giving, and the getting too. The best part was sending out cards with scripture, hoping that God would use them to draw friends and family to Himself. I carried on with all the traditions the same as before, only with a new joy in my heart.

Then about 6 years ago, I looked into the origins of Christmas. I discovered that it was originally a pagan feast day. As I investigated one after the other of the roots of most of the Christmas traditions that we observe, I became increasingly upset, and convinced that I should have no part in this pagan holiday. I even wrote a letter to the elders at my church, and an essay on the whole subject.

It was most upsetting to me to come to service one Sunday around that time to see a Christmas tree displayed in the baptismal tank, with curtains pulled back, making it the focal point at the front of the church, almost as an object of worship. Adding insult to injury was the fact that tiny gold crosses were used for ornaments on the tree. I came very close to turning around and leaving, and considered marching to the front and drawing the curtains across to hide the tree. I did stay for the service, but questioned one of the elders about it. I don’t think I was the only one that was upset; the tree was gone the next Sunday.

Those years ago I stopped having a tree, sending cards, or giving presents, save for my grandchildren, which I have been almost ashamed to admit to, given my strong opinions on the whole thing. I don’t put up lights, or any decorations. I have felt in many ways that I would love to take Christ out of Christmas, rather than put Him back in. What has He to do with all of these things? Trees, and presents, and eating and drinking to excess, office parties where His name is never mentioned unless it is a curse or used in a joke, where the women dress in the most revealing outfits they can get away with, and the booze is flowing. What has He to do with buying gifts that no one needs, and going into debt to do it? The churches are filled at Christmas, but these once a year “believers” aren’t there to worship Him, they don’t know Him. Church is just one more tradition that they use, part of the Christmas Spirit that has nothing to do with Jesus.

Every year we go through the same thing. We groan at the thought that Christmas is coming. We have to get ready for Christmas. In my mind I have a picture of Christmas: it is a huge tree with a Santa Head, dangling to do lists of shopping and cooking and cleaning and wrapping. It looms over us all, holding us hostage to its traditions and demands.

For me all of the joy went out of Christmas those years ago. Since then, I have dreaded it, knowing I would have to answer the age old question dozens of times “are you ready for Christmas?” I then explain that I don’t do much shopping, and that it is mostly about having my family around me and celebrating the birth of Christ.



But I miss it. I miss Christmas. The stirrings of Christmas spirit are trying to take over, it seems. I miss knitting and sewing and baking home made gifts. I miss buying and giving gifts to my family and friends. I am weakening, bit-by-bit, year-by-year. In the past two years, I sent out cards again, since it is one time of year that people will be more tolerant of the Christian message. I am now buying gifts for my husband, children and grandchildren. Christmas Carols have a certain power to soften my heart, and I have a growing desire to share Christ with people. Maybe because I see them rushing around in a frenzy of activity, and I know that the Christmas that they celebrate is not based on the “peace with God and good will toward men” that I now have in my own life.


I tend to be black and white in my thinking. I have been quick to throw out the baby with the bathwater in many areas of my life, and Christmas is a major one. So here I am, slowly making my way back to a balance of grace and truth. I don’t think I am giving in to pressure from without; I hope it is not a case of “if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.” I believe that it is simply my growing toward grace, and away from an attitude that has been unnecessarily and even detrimentally dogmatic.

I have been thinking about my attitude toward all things Christmas. I realize that it isn't so important what "I" think about it, as how I react to others at this time of year. Do I display the love and grace of Christ? That is what matters. Christmas seems to be here to stay, and I am coming to the conclusion, as I usually do with all struggles in my Christian walk, that it is not tradition, or situations, or other people, that God must change, but rather it is my own heart.

Still The Same?

I was going through some old notebooks last night, and came across this entry in one of them. At the time, I had been a Christian for three months. Thought I would share with you. (Keep in mind that I worked full time when I wrote this)

August 30/95

AREAS TO WORK ON

Organization of Time/Tasks
· Housework not getting done – laundry, cleaning, cooking
· Not enough quality prayer time/study time
· Not enough exercise time
· Not enough sleep (sometimes)
· Not enough time for people
· Not enough time for “would like to’s”
= Always feeling behind
= Frustration
= Anxiety


Sharing the Gospel

Being a Good Witness

Selfishness, Vanity, Pride, Laziness, Complacency, Doubts, Shyness
= Knowing I have a long way to go


HOW TO FIX

Stop procrastination – do something! Make a list of things that I have to do.

Ongoing:

Housework: laundry
Vacuum/dust
Clean bathroom/floor
Dishes/kitchen
Cooking/lunches
Shopping
Ironing/mending
Bills etc.

Personal: Exercise
Reading
People – visit, phone, write
Sewing/knitting
Time with kids/Dan

God: Prayer
Bible Study
Church

One Time Only:

Basement
Sewing/knitting organized
Clothes organized
Closets/cupboards organized
Carpets cleaned
Walls etc cleaned
Decorating (?)

August 31/95
Today I really wanted to begin to be organized. If the 4 things on my “to do” list, I completed one, and half completed 2. I guess it is a step in the right direction just to make a list. I will try again tomorrow. Having the desk to read and write at really helps.

Work was unusually hectic………I wanted to be calm and efficient, but as usual I ended up feeling rushed and frazzled. No doubt the result of trying to do things on my own, as usual. Today I got into gossip again, and I should have stayed to help Donna with the faxing, but I wanted to get to the 4:45 class at the gym, which I didn’t enjoy a whole lot. But I need to exercise if I want to lose this extra weight.

I hope that this writing every day helps me. I just feel so rushed at work, that when I get home, I don’t even want to think. Tonight I didn’t do much. Katie is going camping, and I don’t want her to go, of course. But I have asked God to keep her safe. Worrying is a hard habit to break. I know I need to spend more time in prayer, and would like to do it in the morning, but can’t make myself get up. Something else to pray for.

Today, as usual, I tried too much on my own, and didn’t trust enough. Something else to pray for. Will try that idea of using index cards.

Dear God: how could any of us even begin to comprehend Your greatness. You know every thought of every person. You have our lives planned before we are born. You can do all things, made the universe, control everything. Yet you still love us so mercifully and patiently. There is nothing or no one to compare You to. You defy description. I am constantly amazed at what you have done for me. That you care so much, have so much patience, when I am continually failing. The harder I try, the more I fail. I am sorry for trying on my own so much, trying to understand and figure things out. Deep down I know you are in control and have a perfect plan. Why must I be so stubborn? My heart wants to bend, but my feeble human mind still clings to the ridiculous notion that all I have to do is try harder and I will have it conquered. Why can’t I just look back and see what you did, and realize that if You can do that for me, You will of course be faithful to follow through. I am so thankful. Thank you for showing me the way. Help me in all these areas. You know that they are. I want to know You more. I am so grateful to you, Jesus.


Reading this now, and typing it out, I could weep. Because of how pressured I felt back then to “perform”. Because I was my own worst enemy. Because, truth be told, I haven’t changed a whole lot. Because I could write all the same things today. In fact, I could add quite a few items to the list. I’m still not organized. I still beat myself up for it. I still am making lists that are impossibly long. I am still making new resolutions, on a regular basis, to “do better.” I am still aiming for a bar that I set myself. And it makes me sad (no wonder I’m depressed!)

No doubt you smiled at the picture of a new Christian trying to “get it all right.” I was quite naive back then. I don’t know what my excuse is now. Seems I am still trying to get it right. I am still apologizing to God, yet knowing that I should rest in His grace. Old habits die hard.