Conniving Correction

Recently there was a threat of a gunman in my building. It was never confirmed, and it was fairly looked over in the news. However, at the moment… the fear was intense. A couple of hours later (after the police had swarmed the area) we were told to go back to normal activity. Needless to say, that was easier said than done. Without answers my fear festered and I turned to social media for anything to subside my curiosity. There I was bombarded by terrified facebook posts and tweets from my friends and neighbors. One had commented at the time of the lockdown about how she had seen the suspect. In her distress, she made a few grammatical errors. I didn’t notice them until I read the first reply. It was from a woman who took it on herself to correct this young lady’s grammar through mockery. I was shocked. Seriously?

 

But the more I though about it, the less surprised I became. We live in a world of people who police others minor mistakes. They have lost the bigger picture. No longer is it about empathy, gently leading someone into wisdom, but mocking the accused into submission. “You forgot an apostrophe! Therefore I consider myself greater than you and your opinion by scoffing at your mistake. Here in front of my hoard of followers I deem you a Moron.”

 

Where is the kindness? What happened to loving someone in the midst of human faults? The term correction has now become synonymous with “burn”. Which leads me to assume that it is easier to watch others burn in shame than truly care. Sadly, in a growing “me vs. the world” mentality, this doesn’t surprise me.

 

This stained version of correction has infiltrated the Christian realm. From the outside, Christianity only looks like uncomfortable correction and a finger pointing Christ at the helm. Being wrong isn’t a time to learn and experience the beautiful freedom of Grace, but instead a sinful soreness that will be picked at painfully by those who claim to be helping.

 

But this isn’t my Jesus. My Jesus didn’t participate in the jeers when the adulterous woman was brought to him. He didn’t belittle her or make her feel the full pain of her actions. No, he turned and questioned the people trying to make an example of her. He stared into the eyes of the judgmental and asked them to search their own hearts for wrongdoing. One by one, they shamefully backed away. Then he turned to her with deep compassion, recognizing that he would die for this woman’s sin and forgave her. He urged her to “Go and sin no more.” His correction was made out of love because he truly cared for her wellbeing, not because he wanted to be seen as “better”. Every time I read of this moment, my heart melts because I see the Grace of Jesus. But there is more to it than that. Only one person was forgiven at the time and it wasn’t the accusers, but the broken woman. So what’s the point of self-righteousness if there is no freedom of forgiveness?

 

If I truly take this into consideration, then when I stand in front of Christ I will not have the people that I judged my righteousness against to make me feel better standing between me and my Savior. No, I won’t be able to point fingers and state how great I am compared to this person or that person. I will be there alone, his eyes peering into my soul. And I will hear my heart begging him to not be as critical of me as I was with others. I will cry out for compassion, for him to look past my actions and show me empathy. I am grateful that my Jesus won’t take that moment to mock my wrong doings, or use my errors to point out to God how much better He is than me. But instead…grace. And I will feel the warmth of forgiveness just like the redeemed woman. After a moment in the presence of my God, I will walk away clean and blessed…not damned and ashamed.

Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus.

 

Your Friendship is Tireless

It was a moment when all within me came to sudden halt. What I was doing didn’t matter. My eyes closed and I whispered, “Jesus.” My heart quickened. It was time to pray.

For a while all I could say was the name of Lord. My spirit was beckoning for something deeper. Although I do not go a day without praying, I had let myself grow accustomed to more general blessings.

I lifted up my friendships. I prayed out the Ephesians prayer over each one.

Ephesians 3:16-20

I pray that out of His glorious riches He may strengthen you with power through His Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.

I then did something I rarely do. I prayed this over myself. It struck a nerve because I found myself crying while trying to get through it.  Suddenly I realized how much I had allowed the feelings of abandonment by God to seep into my heart. I have always been aware of the generosity, love, and grace of God but always in a greater measure for those around me. God is so intense in His love for humanity; I have been blessed to feel a fraction of this love for others. Sometimes all I have to do is look a person in the eyes and I can feel my knees buckle as my heart is washed over by His deep love for them. I know God loves me too, but I don’t feel it. I don’t feel a thing. But even with this absence of feeling, I am certain of God’s love.

It is difficult to feel God’s love when all I crave is to serve Him, only to be hindered at every turn. I recently moved across the country to serve in a ministry. After much prayer, fasting, and sacrifice, I took the leap. I was only there a few days when I had unknowingly offended someone. I was soon asked to leave. I had no idea what I done wrong. However, there was no second chance. There was no grace. There was no forgiveness.

If this were the only instance, than it would be so much easier to grow from. But time and again I notice that my former “Christian friends” only give me one shot. If I mess up, it’s over. I try my best to correct things, but it’s never the same. It is easier to cut me out of their life than forgive me. Even when the tables are turned and it is a friend that hurts me, everything still dissolves. My favorite professor in college was in charge of my study abroad trip. Even though he neglected many red flags, I did not blame him for what went wrong. He didn’t know what would happen. I was not angry with him. When I returned to school, all I wanted was for things to go back to normal. But he couldn’t look me in the eyes, as if I were the embodiment of his failure. After a few days into the school year he went into early retirement and never returned to campus. He never spoke to me again.

With this constant treatment form Christians, it is difficult not to think that God is same way. I will misinterpret. I will misstep. I will fail. I’m human. So my brain, accustomed to the past, reasoned that God was growing distant. Yes, He would listen when I prayed for others, but it stopped there.

But God is not human. God does not hold petty offences or cast off those He doesn’t want to forgive. No, His goodness is immeasurable, and all reaching! God placed an intense love for people within me. Not even a human would put their most worthwhile possession into second-rate vessel. No people put what they cherish into something they can trust, like a safe or bank.

Because of my obedience and willingness to sacrifice, the Lord trusts me. No matter what, I will love and serve God. Because of this trust, I am evermore confident in His love for me.

*Song I’m listening to: “Nearness” by Lovelite

 

Love & Loathing

Yesterday was delightful. Road trips, exciting basketball games, delicious food, and good company combined into one great day.

But it ended on such an unfortunate note. My phone went off and on the other end was a man from my past. We hadn’t talked in nearly two years and my heart was immediately put on guard. I didn’t answer.

A bit later my phone alerted me to a text message.

“I need you to forgive me, Jack. This is tearing me up. I’m so sorry.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. Our friendship ended amicably. After he became engaged to a simply stunning woman, I knew I needed to give them space. So we had one last long conversation and went our separate ways. Honestly I considered him one of the best friends I have ever had. He was so incredibly gracious and treated me like royalty. I adored him.

“I don’t know why you are apologizing, but I promise I haven’t held any bitterness towards you,” I responded. 

“Just say you forgive me.”

“I forgive you.”

The conversation ended. However a few hours later, in mid sleep, another message glowed in the darkness. Tired, but curious, I rolled over to read it. I really wish I hadn’t. It was list of formerly hidden, heinous things he had done to me. There I was, in a motionless state of shock, as I realized that all these deceitful things were done during the times he told me he loved me. Many of his actions caused painful consequences in my life. My heart ached as I lost my best friend all over again.

I let go of the phone and looked up the ceiling, searching for answers. Sure he felt better, but I felt terrible.

“God, what does this mean?” I let the wave of emotions sweep over me and leave me. I was just given a whole list of reasons to hate him, but it’s all in the past. Nothing can be changed. Anger would have solved nothing and I had already forgiven him. I reasoned that perhaps all the awful needed to happen so that he could finally erase me as an option for his life and be wholehearted to his wife. Months before he got married he said, “Jackie don’t let me marry her. I don’t love her.” I struggled with this as all the wedding plans were made. It was not my place to intervene. Ultimately it was his choice and he made it, which dissolved our friendship. We were able to talk it out and end things on a positive note, but I still remember the hesitation in his voice when it was time to hang up. He kept bringing up topics to keep the conversation going, until I finally wished him well, said goodbye, and hung up the phone. That was two years ago and we haven’t talked since…until now.

I exhaled a deep breath and smiled. Yes, I can forgive him. I sent him a text back that said all was well and how much I appreciated his friendship.

My phone went off again.

“You were so intriguing, Jack.You were some undiscovered species, that I had to figure out. I needed to be around you… but I was never your friend.”

I was able to ignore a list of abuse, but that final phrase hurt like hell. No longer did it feel like an apology, but one final stab in the back. I didn’t know whether to laugh at the ridiculousness or scream at the frustration. Unable to sleep, I lit a few candles, poured a hot bath, indulged in a honeybell, and prayed.

What do I do when all my affection for a person is wasted? I have no desire to hate him. Even though he was cruel doesn’t diminish the fact that I cared. I still want so much good for him. I want his marriage to last. I want him to make millions from the business we founded together. I want him to be a strong leader in his community because I know the potential he has within him. I want him happy. So he was a terrible friend, truth is most people are. But hopefully he can grow from it and become the very best version of himself. Lord bless him more than I (or my friendship) ever could.

 

“Reckless is Fun…

…when you’re not the one that gets hurt.” – San Cisco

My last post highlighted my intense redhead wrath, but I have since calmed down. I hate being angry and try to never go to bed while upset. Needless to say, it took me awhile to fall asleep. Witnessing a friend’s pain unnerves me to no end; but as much as I want to, I cannot fight their battles. Hurt is something we must go through and grow through. It makes us wiser and, in time, beckons us to attempt the most unearthly action – forgiveness.

I do wish that when people hurt others, they were made instantly aware of the consequences. Sadly life isn’t like that. Often those who bully others run away or cut ties before they witness the pain they cause. It is much easier to justify horrible actions when one not around to see the backlash.

So what does one do? I certainly do not want to become a cynic who only believes the worst in others, a life expecting disappointment. No, I want to keep being that girl who sees the beautiful good in others (even when it is covered by a rough exterior). I believe in forgiving and forgetting. Holding onto tiny offenses can incite a chasm in the strongest relationships (especially between us and God).

Forgiveness does not condone bad behaviors, but it does recognize our humanness. It reminds us that we can be more than our faults. That is the beauty of it. We will all mess up and disappoint those around us. Sometimes even the best intentions cause unknown pain. Therefore I am thankful that forgiveness transcends the awkward and awful nature of people, in order to enlighten us to the view of God. He loves us, in spite of us.

Forgiving those who targeted and assaulted me felt nearly impossible. How could I forgive when my deepest desire was for them to feel my pain, my fear, and my loss of faith in the goodness of men? I wanted them to suffer. But I soon realized that holding onto this offense was preventing me from healing and moving on. I was not going to let the lack of good judgment in others dictate how I was going to live the rest of my life. Yes, I was broken, but God made me stronger.