So tomorrow's the big day. And I'm sitting here blogging at lunch, 'cause I'm getting kind of nervous and this (and prayer) is keeping me from panic. The big day = moving for those of you who haven't heard. For those of you who know me well you'll either be saying, "Whoa, big surprise," in a sarcastic tone or perhaps, "Not again!"
I've actually lost count of the number of times I've moved since coming to Rockford. Let's see if I can remember...
First I lived with Pastor and Mrs. Martin when I first came to town, and all my stuff sat on the stage at the school for months. Then (2) I moved into my very own apartment at Clayton Court in Winnebago. What fun we had there! Sometimes, I had "traveling through" roommates such as Anouk or Joy. I loved having the space to be hospitable. I lived at Clayton Court for two years. Then came the chaos of a church split. I resigned from my job. Really, I had no idea what would come next so (3) I packed up all of my stuff and put it into a storage building and went back to Tennessee for a few months to think. And ended up right back here in Rockford (4), living with the Goodwins. Do I have to count moving just the stuff? Because we had that tornado destroy the storage building where my stuff was stored, and the emergency move (5) to the Aschers' barn. Next, both the stuff and I moved in with Joy (6) in the basement of the big house on National Avenue. You remember, the big house that was sold just a few months after we moved in. The original owners told the new owners that we would be moving out and told us that the new owners wanted us to stay. When the confusion cleared, we were moving out on a snowy night in January. We moved to the wonderful Franklin Place apartment (7) where we lived for around a year and a half, I think. Then I moved in with Mel at the apartment out in Loves Park (8), but after a couple of months we found the nice little apartment where we've lived for the last year (9). This September we re-signed our lease, thankfully planning NOT TO MOVE THIS YEAR!
God providentially put a smoker underneath us a month into our second year of the lease, thus giving me this nasty cough/asthma issue and the need to move again. Of course, getting out of the lease due to health reasons timed perfectly with Mark and Bev moving to Oklahoma-- and here we are moving into their house tomorrow (10).
God gives us good gifts. In our new house, we'll have big bedrooms, Buddy the neurotic border collie, BARB, a yard, ANNIE, space for more guests, and a chance to live in an exciting multi-cultural neighborhood. Did I mention the books get to come out of the plastic tubs in the basement? And BARB and ANNIE? And Buddy? Wow! So now I just have to finish work today, run errands, and head home to finish packing. I'll give you another update after moving and after the cable man comes to re-connect the Internet.
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Saturday, November 18, 2006
A Personal Journey
I'm not afraid to face questions about what I believe, even ones I didn't expect to face in a blog format. You just have to be aware that I make no claim to having all the answers or of having answers with which you will agree. That being said, I feel that Beth's question in the comments of the previous post deserves more than a little comment-sized answer.
The same anger that I sense directed at me in the question is similar to the anger that I directed at God two summers ago. In my grief, I found myself with many "whys". "Why did Dad die so suddenly? Why in this way? Why at this time? Why did we not have more chances to witness to him? Why did we not see our prayers answered? Why? Why..."
People try to be helpful and spiritual when they see that you are going through a trial like this. They remind you that God is in control. At that time in my life, I found it was like rubbing salt in the wound. You see, one thing that I realized rather quickly in this time of questioning was that I truly do believe that God is in control. That fact focused my anger directly on Him. Why could He not have followed my prayed-for plan for Dad's life, the one where he turned to God and changed, the one where he spent the last years of his life being a wonderful husband and father and grandfather, a beautiful testimony of God's grace? Where was the mercy of God?
These questions were the ones that sent me to the Word. I wanted to study the sovereignty of God because I wanted to know exactly what areas of life God takes credit for being in control of. To be very honest, I wanted to know how much I could blame Him.
So what did I find? What does God claim responsibility for or over? The answer was exactly what my first thoughts had been: nearly everything. He takes credit for the physical universe, from creation to holding it together to the weather to the creation of a specific human being in his mother's womb. The Lord God specifically takes responsibility for sending judgment in the forms of famine, war, and plague. He takes credit for changing the hearts of men as it furthers His cause. He literally says more than once that He holds the breath of creatures and men in His hand and gives or takes it at His will. I could go on and on with verse after verse of what I discovered about the control of God, but let me move on to two important things.
I found one thing that He does not take credit for and one thing for which He takes all of the credit. I never found God taking responsibility for sin. Perhaps this is obvious considering the magnificent and complete holiness of God, but it was a truth that resounded in my heart. In the story of God's dealings with man as told in the Bible, man bears full responsibility for the sin that he has chosen: mankind, every man, every woman, me. Tainted and contaminated with our own willfulness, we, and every other human being, lift our fists in God's face and go our own sinful ways. How does Romans 3 say it? "There is none righteous, no, not one. There is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God. They are all become unprofitable; there is none that doeth good, no, not one." The Holy Spirit began to remind me of my own sinful heart. He gave me a good look at the filth and rebelliousness within me. As Romans 7 says, even "when I would do good, evil is present with me." Whether or not my dad turned to Christ in his last moments, he lived his life as a selfish rebel sinning against a holy God. The fact that I could not escape was that my heart is exactly the same as his was. Even as someone who has lived with the blessings of salvation for over 20 years, the wickedness of my heart appalls me. It was not enough to say that my life is different than his was because at some point I made a decision to turn to God. When I see the witness of both the Scriptures and of my own heart, I know that there is nothing in me that would choose God. My natural instinct was and is to run away from God and to sin at any cost. So now I was left with yet another "why". "Why me?" Why did I come to know Christ at a young age and my dad only in the last part of his life, if ever? Why did I come to Christ at all?
This is where I found the thing for which God takes all of the credit in the Scriptures: salvation. When my soul and Dad's soul stand side by side, there is no merit on my side at all. Thy are exactly the same in their complete wickedness and bent toward sinning. If there is any difference, it is all of grace: unmerited favor of God poured out upon a needy sinner. I could again call up verse after verse that extols this amazing fact. Salvation is of the Lord! From His death on the cross to the very faith that I have in my heart that enables me to repent from my sin and accept His salvation, it is all a gift of God.
It is very late (or early) as I write this out longhand in my bed. I hope to type this up before work tomorrow morning. Now I am full circle back to Beth's question: "Do I believe God chose Dad to go to hell, if indeed he died unsaved?" No. I believe that the Bible teaches that we all choose our sin and our condemnation to hell is justice from a righteous God. The responsibility for our sin is rightly our own.
And yet, I believe that it is through no merit of my own that I have come to salvation. I do believe that the Bible teaches that I was called and chosen to come to salvation. Without God's drawing me, I would never have come.
Do I completely understand how these truths intertwine or how they work together? No. But simply because I do not fully understand something does not mean that the Bible doesn't teach it that way and I should believe that it is true.
The finite mind longs to make the jump from the fact that if someone is chosen, someone else is perhaps "not-chosen". There is obviously an element of this in the Scriptures. Romans 9 deals with this concept. I don't understand all of that. What I do glean from Romans 9 is that God is the one in charge of this situation and that not understanding truth is better than messing with the truth so that it fits into my ideas of how it should be. I am now fully persuaded in the justice and in the mercy of God. I am able to leave the uncertainty of my dad's eternal condition in His hands for that is where it rests anyway. There is no one like our God. There is nothing to compare to Him. He is worthy of praise and honor. He is worthy of me trusting Him in this matter.
The same anger that I sense directed at me in the question is similar to the anger that I directed at God two summers ago. In my grief, I found myself with many "whys". "Why did Dad die so suddenly? Why in this way? Why at this time? Why did we not have more chances to witness to him? Why did we not see our prayers answered? Why? Why..."
People try to be helpful and spiritual when they see that you are going through a trial like this. They remind you that God is in control. At that time in my life, I found it was like rubbing salt in the wound. You see, one thing that I realized rather quickly in this time of questioning was that I truly do believe that God is in control. That fact focused my anger directly on Him. Why could He not have followed my prayed-for plan for Dad's life, the one where he turned to God and changed, the one where he spent the last years of his life being a wonderful husband and father and grandfather, a beautiful testimony of God's grace? Where was the mercy of God?
These questions were the ones that sent me to the Word. I wanted to study the sovereignty of God because I wanted to know exactly what areas of life God takes credit for being in control of. To be very honest, I wanted to know how much I could blame Him.
So what did I find? What does God claim responsibility for or over? The answer was exactly what my first thoughts had been: nearly everything. He takes credit for the physical universe, from creation to holding it together to the weather to the creation of a specific human being in his mother's womb. The Lord God specifically takes responsibility for sending judgment in the forms of famine, war, and plague. He takes credit for changing the hearts of men as it furthers His cause. He literally says more than once that He holds the breath of creatures and men in His hand and gives or takes it at His will. I could go on and on with verse after verse of what I discovered about the control of God, but let me move on to two important things.
I found one thing that He does not take credit for and one thing for which He takes all of the credit. I never found God taking responsibility for sin. Perhaps this is obvious considering the magnificent and complete holiness of God, but it was a truth that resounded in my heart. In the story of God's dealings with man as told in the Bible, man bears full responsibility for the sin that he has chosen: mankind, every man, every woman, me. Tainted and contaminated with our own willfulness, we, and every other human being, lift our fists in God's face and go our own sinful ways. How does Romans 3 say it? "There is none righteous, no, not one. There is none that understandeth, there is none that seeketh after God. They are all become unprofitable; there is none that doeth good, no, not one." The Holy Spirit began to remind me of my own sinful heart. He gave me a good look at the filth and rebelliousness within me. As Romans 7 says, even "when I would do good, evil is present with me." Whether or not my dad turned to Christ in his last moments, he lived his life as a selfish rebel sinning against a holy God. The fact that I could not escape was that my heart is exactly the same as his was. Even as someone who has lived with the blessings of salvation for over 20 years, the wickedness of my heart appalls me. It was not enough to say that my life is different than his was because at some point I made a decision to turn to God. When I see the witness of both the Scriptures and of my own heart, I know that there is nothing in me that would choose God. My natural instinct was and is to run away from God and to sin at any cost. So now I was left with yet another "why". "Why me?" Why did I come to know Christ at a young age and my dad only in the last part of his life, if ever? Why did I come to Christ at all?
This is where I found the thing for which God takes all of the credit in the Scriptures: salvation. When my soul and Dad's soul stand side by side, there is no merit on my side at all. Thy are exactly the same in their complete wickedness and bent toward sinning. If there is any difference, it is all of grace: unmerited favor of God poured out upon a needy sinner. I could again call up verse after verse that extols this amazing fact. Salvation is of the Lord! From His death on the cross to the very faith that I have in my heart that enables me to repent from my sin and accept His salvation, it is all a gift of God.
It is very late (or early) as I write this out longhand in my bed. I hope to type this up before work tomorrow morning. Now I am full circle back to Beth's question: "Do I believe God chose Dad to go to hell, if indeed he died unsaved?" No. I believe that the Bible teaches that we all choose our sin and our condemnation to hell is justice from a righteous God. The responsibility for our sin is rightly our own.
And yet, I believe that it is through no merit of my own that I have come to salvation. I do believe that the Bible teaches that I was called and chosen to come to salvation. Without God's drawing me, I would never have come.
Do I completely understand how these truths intertwine or how they work together? No. But simply because I do not fully understand something does not mean that the Bible doesn't teach it that way and I should believe that it is true.
The finite mind longs to make the jump from the fact that if someone is chosen, someone else is perhaps "not-chosen". There is obviously an element of this in the Scriptures. Romans 9 deals with this concept. I don't understand all of that. What I do glean from Romans 9 is that God is the one in charge of this situation and that not understanding truth is better than messing with the truth so that it fits into my ideas of how it should be. I am now fully persuaded in the justice and in the mercy of God. I am able to leave the uncertainty of my dad's eternal condition in His hands for that is where it rests anyway. There is no one like our God. There is nothing to compare to Him. He is worthy of praise and honor. He is worthy of me trusting Him in this matter.
Monday, November 13, 2006
The Personal Effects of Calvinistic Theology in My Life
1. Humility
2. Exaltation of God
3. Prayer
4. Increased Desire for Holiness
5. More Fervent Spirit of Evangelism
“Before this period [when I came to prize the Bible alone as my standard of judgment] I had been much opposed to the doctrines of election, particular redemption (i.e. limited atonement), and final persevering grace. But now I was brought to examine these precious truths by the Word of God. Being made willing to have no glory of my own in the conversion of sinners, but to consider myself merely an instrument; and being made willing to receive what the Scriptures said, I went to the Word, reading the New Testament from the beginning, with a particular reference to these truths.
To my great astonishment I found that the passages which speak decidedly for election and persevering grace, were about four times as many as those which speak apparently against these truths; and even those few, shortly after, when I had examined and understood them, served to confirm me in the above doctrines.
As to the effect which my belief in these doctrines had on me, I am constrained to state for God's glory, that though I am still exceedingly weak, and by no means so dead to the lusts of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, as I might be, and as I ought to be, yet, by the grace of God, I have walked more closely with Him since that period. My life has not been so variable, and I may say that I have lived much more for God than before.”
These words from the autobiography of George Mueller express my own experience as well. I set my heart and mind to study these truths nearly three years ago when my dad died. Now, as I try to put into words what I have learned, I am once again brought to tears of joy in contemplation of the beauty, and mercy, and holiness of God. Were I a theologian, I would explain it in crystal-clear terms to illuminate your mind. Were I a song-writer, I would create a masterpiece of music and words to fill your heart. Were I a painter, I would imagine art to overwhelm your senses. But I am me: flawed and needy and ordinary. So I pray that grace is given me to invest all of my view of the glorious worth of the Savior into each word that I speak throughout my day, into each touch as I hold wrinkled hands in comfort, into each choice I make that demonstrates my life’s priorities.
2. Exaltation of God
3. Prayer
4. Increased Desire for Holiness
5. More Fervent Spirit of Evangelism
“Before this period [when I came to prize the Bible alone as my standard of judgment] I had been much opposed to the doctrines of election, particular redemption (i.e. limited atonement), and final persevering grace. But now I was brought to examine these precious truths by the Word of God. Being made willing to have no glory of my own in the conversion of sinners, but to consider myself merely an instrument; and being made willing to receive what the Scriptures said, I went to the Word, reading the New Testament from the beginning, with a particular reference to these truths.
To my great astonishment I found that the passages which speak decidedly for election and persevering grace, were about four times as many as those which speak apparently against these truths; and even those few, shortly after, when I had examined and understood them, served to confirm me in the above doctrines.
As to the effect which my belief in these doctrines had on me, I am constrained to state for God's glory, that though I am still exceedingly weak, and by no means so dead to the lusts of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, as I might be, and as I ought to be, yet, by the grace of God, I have walked more closely with Him since that period. My life has not been so variable, and I may say that I have lived much more for God than before.”
These words from the autobiography of George Mueller express my own experience as well. I set my heart and mind to study these truths nearly three years ago when my dad died. Now, as I try to put into words what I have learned, I am once again brought to tears of joy in contemplation of the beauty, and mercy, and holiness of God. Were I a theologian, I would explain it in crystal-clear terms to illuminate your mind. Were I a song-writer, I would create a masterpiece of music and words to fill your heart. Were I a painter, I would imagine art to overwhelm your senses. But I am me: flawed and needy and ordinary. So I pray that grace is given me to invest all of my view of the glorious worth of the Savior into each word that I speak throughout my day, into each touch as I hold wrinkled hands in comfort, into each choice I make that demonstrates my life’s priorities.
Monday, November 06, 2006
Saturday, November 04, 2006
Chicago Vacation
Here are a few pictures from my parents' recent visit. They spent a mini-vacation with me in Rockford. We walked and walked and walked and walked on a beautiful fall day in Chicago. Another day, we visited Anderson Japanese Gardens here in Rockford. They loved the Swedish pancakes at Stockholm Inn and the apple donuts at Edwards Orchard. I loved having them here to enjoy our service at Morning Star on Sunday. It was just a joy to be together, in spite of the cold Dad suffered through.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Intoxicating Words
I'm doing research this morning for our Veterans Day celebrations next week, and I came across this poem again. It's most familiar for the excerpts used by President Reagan in his speech after the Challenger explosion in 1986. In its entirety, the poem is overwhelmingly descriptive. I needed to see some of the sky this morning.
High Flight
By John Gillespie Magee, Jr
Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward, I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds-and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of-wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,
Where never lark, or even eagle, flew;
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
Special Note for High Flight:During the Battle of Britain, many Americans crossed the border into Canada to enlist with the Royal Canadian Air Force ... they knowingly broke the law in order to fight Hitler's Germany. John Gillespie Magee, Jr., born in Shanghai, China, in 1922. When Magee was just 18 years old, he entered flight training and was sent to England, on 30 June 1941. He flew the Spitfire being promoted to the rank of Pilot Officer. German bombers were crossing the English Channel regularly to attack Britain's cities and factories. On September 3, 1941, Magee flew a Spitfire V test flight which inspired him to write his poem. That same day he wrote a letter to his parents which included this now famous poem. Three months later, on December 11, 1941 (three days after the US entered the war and four days after Pearl Harbor), John Gillespie Magee, Jr., was killed. He was just 19 years old. John Gillespie Magee, Jr. is at Scopwick, Lincolnshire, in a churchyard cemetery.
High Flight
By John Gillespie Magee, Jr
Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward, I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds-and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of-wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov'ring there,
I've chased the shouting wind along and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,
Where never lark, or even eagle, flew;
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
Special Note for High Flight:During the Battle of Britain, many Americans crossed the border into Canada to enlist with the Royal Canadian Air Force ... they knowingly broke the law in order to fight Hitler's Germany. John Gillespie Magee, Jr., born in Shanghai, China, in 1922. When Magee was just 18 years old, he entered flight training and was sent to England, on 30 June 1941. He flew the Spitfire being promoted to the rank of Pilot Officer. German bombers were crossing the English Channel regularly to attack Britain's cities and factories. On September 3, 1941, Magee flew a Spitfire V test flight which inspired him to write his poem. That same day he wrote a letter to his parents which included this now famous poem. Three months later, on December 11, 1941 (three days after the US entered the war and four days after Pearl Harbor), John Gillespie Magee, Jr., was killed. He was just 19 years old. John Gillespie Magee, Jr. is at Scopwick, Lincolnshire, in a churchyard cemetery.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Halloween Humor
The night before Halloween found me at Goodwill, trying to come up with a last minute costume. Goodwill is such a great place for things like that. After milling around and rejecting several ideas, like the black cat suggested at work, I found the cutest camo skirt. This gave me the idea of being a soldier- not realistically, but more in a "support our troops" kind of way. The complete outfit included the camo skirt, matching drab green shirt, and little girly combat boots. I added the tan hat that Jeremy says makes me look like Radar from Mash, but looks just like the one my friend Frank wore in pictures from Iraq. With my American flag pin, you could definitely get the idea. Our residents and staff really liked the outfit, but there were a few funny moments.
I walked by two ladies sitting over in the retirement home side of the building and overheard their conversation.
"Look at her," the first lady said. "She's in the army now."
The second lady laughed. She knows me because her husband is involved in our Alzheimers Center. "Do you know where she works? She's in front-line combat."
Apparently, the camo actually works if the person can't see very well anyway. I was standing by the wall, waiting for the elevator, when I greeted a gentleman in a wheelchair farther down the hall.
"Good morning, John."
"Good morning," he replied with a confused expression. "Where are you? I can hear you, but I can't see you."
I thought this was a rather witty joke until I realized that he didn't have his glasses on and that the wall behind me was the same olive green as my camo outfit.
I walked by two ladies sitting over in the retirement home side of the building and overheard their conversation.
"Look at her," the first lady said. "She's in the army now."
The second lady laughed. She knows me because her husband is involved in our Alzheimers Center. "Do you know where she works? She's in front-line combat."
Apparently, the camo actually works if the person can't see very well anyway. I was standing by the wall, waiting for the elevator, when I greeted a gentleman in a wheelchair farther down the hall.
"Good morning, John."
"Good morning," he replied with a confused expression. "Where are you? I can hear you, but I can't see you."
I thought this was a rather witty joke until I realized that he didn't have his glasses on and that the wall behind me was the same olive green as my camo outfit.
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