Destination Discipline

“There came a night when I was ill and crying both with headache and toothache and distressed because my mother did not come to me. that was because she was ill too. And then my father, in tears, came into my room and began to try to convey to my terrified mind things it had never conceived before. It was in fact cancer and followed the usual course; an operation, an apparent convalescence, a return of the disease, increasing pain, and death.” C. S. Lewis – Surprised by Joy

The importance of mothers cannot be understated and yet it often is. Pregnancy is an inconvenience to be endured or aborted. Women wrestle with childcare options in order to work outside the home. Then on weekends, they find a sitter so they can pursue hobbies. They pull the child out for a selfie to post on social media – like a badge for their good parenting skills. But in the daily grind of life, their child is marginalized, neglected, and left clamoring for attention.

I write these words as an indictment of my own parenting over the years. I had to work outside the home. I didn’t have the option to stay with my little ones. I was reliant on grandmas and babysitters. And I was frequently tired and just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to go out on the weekend to play and I didn’t want a little one following along. Parenting is hard work, and I already had a full-time job.

My oldest son is 25 years old. I have a granddaughter and I see the same patterns repeating. The reality of life is that many women wrestle with career and parenting. I was never very good at it, but I suppose none of us are. We do the best we can with what we have at any given moment and press forward hoping our children won’t be emotionally scarred or worse. But the headlines are rife with stories of children hurt or abused at daycare. And mothers live with a perpetual guilt even if they don’t work outside the home. Children suffer by way of what I call “device daycare” and we go on as if there is nothing we can do about it.

Some of us will run and pick up a self-help book to gather fresh ideas. We will talk to our friends, lament, have a glass of wine and call it a day. But somewhere along the line we have forgotten that to be a mother is to lay down our lives for our children. Their needs supersede our own. Motherhood is a sacrificial endeavor and one that should never be taken lightly. C. S. Lewis never got over the loss of his own mother and it is a testament to their importance.

My own mother had her work cut out for her when it came to me. I was a most stubborn, deceitful, self-centered child. I made it my mission in life to defy her. I refused to submit, obey, or even clean my room. Much of that was because life was generally overwhelming for me. I struggled in so many areas. My mother just didn’t know what to do with that. She didn’t understand that a child could live in such disarray. (My husband can sympathize!) My brain is cluttered, and it manifests in my daily living spaces. But my mother didn’t roll over. She grit her teeth and did everything in her power to teach me. She loved me. Even though it didn’t feel like it at the time.

My thinking changed as I matured by raising my own children. I came to understand her dilemma. Of course, the biggest problem we both have is that we are sinners living in a fallen world. But for the grace of God, I might not have survived childhood. And so, I try to teach my own boys about grace and the goodness of God. It’s the best gift I can give to them; to teach them about Jesus and the gift of salvation and the hope we have in Him to overcome sin.

I am not a perfect parent. Every day I fail my children in some way (though never intentionally). But I am praying for them, and I know God hears and answers my prayers. I have set my mind like flint to lose my life for my boys and to never give up.

This countercultural mindset is powerful. By the grace of God I stand for my children. I will not relent. I will persevere. If you are reading this and you are a mother – I hope you will too.

“Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.” Colossians 3:2-3

My tears have been my food day and night, While they say to me all the day long, “Where is your God?” Psalm 42:3

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Psalm 42:5

I feel badly when I write sad blogs that feel like pity parties (Life in the cracks). But the truth is, I am stumbling toward God. I may feel bad emotionally, but I’m still praying, and hoping and believing that good will come. That is why this morning I sat down to read from a book that has been very helpful to me over the past year: Spiritual Depression, by Martin Lloyd Jones. It is a collection of transcribed sermons (which can also be downloaded online at Monergism if you’d rather listen to them).

The scripture being preached was Philippians 4:10-13:

I rejoiced in the Lord greatly that  now at length you have revived your concern for me. You were indeed concerned for me, but you had no opportunity. Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.”

Now it would behoove anyone struggling today with depression or sadness or grief to download the book and read it. That would be the best thing. But I wanted to share with the dear reader that when I read this sermon, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders. I felt, well, brand new. And I just had to share how good God is and how He met me in my need.

It’s good to know that every new story is really just an old story being retold. That is what I am considering today. The Bible is God’s love letter to us. It is the true story of our creation, the reason why we are alive, and the hope to which we can cling when life turns us upside down. It is the most beautiful story ever written. So when MLJ was preaching this passage, he was really just harkening back to the Apostle Paul’s words and Paul was always just telling the story of Jesus and the hope we have in Him. The story never gets old. And it’s worth considering that all the best stories in the world point back to the gospel in some way.

The gist of the passage is that Paul was in prison, and he wrote a letter to the Philippian church to thank them for sending Epaphroditus with a gift. He also wrote to tell them how to be content in any and every situation. MLJ says this better than I:

“So, he sets out in this mighty passage, with its staggering and astounding affirmations, to show the primacy of the Lord and the all-sufficiency of the Lord, while at the same time he shows his gratitude and his indebtedness and his love towards the Philippians for this manifestation of their personal care and solicitude for him.”

MLJ was British and therefore it sounds much cooler when he says it. But I digress…

“Paul is not indifferent to his circumstances. To put it positively, he is not mastered or controlled by circumstances. By all means if you can improve your circumstances by fair and legitimate means, do so; but if you cannot, and if you have to remain in a trying and difficult position, do not be mastered by it, do not let it get you down, do not let it control you, do not let it determine your misery or your joy.

‘Whatever my condition or circumstance,’ he says in effect, ‘I am in control. I am master of the situation, I am not mastered by the situation, I am free, I am at liberty, I do not depend for my happiness upon what is happening to me. My life, my happiness, my joy and my experience are independent of the things that are going on round about me, and even of the things that may be happening to me.’ I would remind you that Paul was probably chained to a soldier when he uttered these words. ‘My life,’ says Paul, ‘is not controlled and determined by what is happening to me; I am in a state and condition in which I rise right above them. These things are not the determining factors in my life and experience.’”

I want this. I want my life to reflect this. I want this kind of freedom and that is why I follow Jesus. He is the only one capable of giving such a gift. And I have it! It really is mine! Hallelujah! How can this not change everything? How can I continue to weep and mourn when such a marvelous gift has been given to me. I cannot. I will not.

There is so much “meat” to what Martin Lloyd Jones share in the sermon, but the big takeaway came at the end.

“Let me give you some of the steps of the argument which you can work out for yourself.

1) Conditions are always changing, therefore I must obviously not be dependent upon conditions.

2) What matters supremely and vitally is my soul and my relationship to God—that is the first thing.

3) God is concerned about me as my Father, and nothing happens to me apart from God. I must never forget that.

4) God’s will and God’s ways are a great mystery, but I know that whatever He wills or permits is of necessity for my good.

5) Every situation in life is the unfolding of some manifestation of God’s love and goodness. Therefore, my business is to look for this peculiar manifestation of God’s goodness and kindness and to be prepared for surprises and blessings because ‘His ways are not my ways, neither His thoughts my thoughts’.

6) I must regard circumstances and conditions, not in and of themselves therefore, but as a part of God’s dealings with me in the work of perfecting my soul and bringing me to final perfection.

7) Whatever my conditions may be at this present moment they are only temporary, they are only passing, and they can never rob me of the joy and the glory that ultimately await me with Christ.

And finally:

”The big principle that emerges clearly is that Paul had learned to find his pleasure and his satisfaction in Chris and always in Christ.

We must learn to depend upon Him and in order to do that we must learn to know Him, we must learn to have communion with Him, we must learn to find our pleasure in Him. Then comes the test. Will you still be happy? Do you know Him so well that though you become deaf or blind this fount will still be open? Do you know Him so well that you can talk to Him and listen to Him and enjoy Him always? Will all be well because you have always been so dependent upon your relationship to Him that nothing else really matters!”

THAT is the question. I have been sad and depressed because of my life circumstances but I can find joy and freedom in Christ because of the deep and abiding love He has for me. And so can you.

I realize this post was a bit of borrowing from the great preacher, but it was poignant today. It helped me. I hope it helps you too.

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me? Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.” Psalm 42:11

“All my tears are falling on the floor,” she said. “I never felt it rain like this before,” she said. “I’ll sing these black-eyed blues into the storm instead. I’ve been waiting for the new eyes to arrive one breath at a time.”  – She Said, Jon Foreman

One breath at a time. That is how we live life. We have grand illusions that meaning is found in the shape of our bodies or in our career or in a new hairstyle. We buy a new pair of shoes and step out into the street and the heel breaks off. And we curse because we didn’t see the crack in the pavement even though it’s been there for years. But that is where life is lived; in the cracks.

”The wise person has his eyes in his head, but the fool walks in darkness. And yet I perceived that the same event happens to all of them. Then I said in my heart, “what happens to the fool will happen to me also. Why then have I been so very wise?” And I said in my heart that this also is vanity. For of the wise as of the fool there is no enduring remembrance, seeing that in the days to come all will have been long forgotten. How the wise dies just like the fool! So I hated life, because what is done under the sun was grievous to me, for all is vanity and a striving after wind.”  Ecclesiastes 2:14-17

A lot has happened since I wrote last. I’ve lost several people I loved. They are gone and nothing I write will make them come back. I’ve been trying to protect my heart from the pain but that feels rather foolish. This has manifested in raw anger and hostility. No one can see it of course. I tuck it in like wrinkled shirt tails and throw on a snazzy jacket. But it’s there.

Several people I love are very sick. I’m not worried. I’m not anxious. I’m just mad. I’m in the cracks again. And I keep telling myself it’s not about me. “Have a little compassion,” I say to myself. But there is a blister on my heart that’s turned into a callous and I won’t let the pain rub me because I don’t want it to break open. Anger is easy. It’s a comfortable coat of armor. It repels the storm—or so I tell myself.

I’m not alone. The meme’s I see in social media are powerful indicators of what is lurking in the human heart.

People love “out” doors. They walk out of marriages, jobs, friendships, and out of difficult situations all the time. Things get tough and they skedaddle. Then they spend years justifying it.

I recently had lunch with a colleague. She was really upset about the Dobbs vs. Jackson decision and vowed to take on the fight for women’s rights. Halfway through her rant (for it was most certainly a rant) she looked at me and said, “Well, maybe you and I are on opposite sides of this debate because you are religious.” She said religious like it was a flesh eating bacteria I had contracted and I might accidentally get some on her. I hadn’t said a word and I empathized with her anger and frustration. She felt like something had been stolen and I know how that feels. But also I saw in my mind’s eye a friend standing at my desk years earlier with tears pouring down her face because she had scalding pain and regret from an abortion. She was absolutely shattered by that decision and there was nothing she could do about it. There is something very final about death. It leaves a gaping hole whether we like it or not.

I told my colleague that story and she shared with me her own abortion. She had gotten pregnant at 17 by “a stupid boy” and she knew her parents would never allow an abortion so she asked her sister for help. They went to the clinic and took care of the problem and she has never regretted it. Then she looked at me and said, “And I’m very happy now. I have a very comfortable life.” She is very proud of her “out” door. And even though I thought I had been gracious and listened and told her I loved her and would never judge her for that decision, she collected a new “out” door and walked right out of relationship with me.

Another death. Nothing I can do to stop it. And I write that knowing someone will stop reading because they feel I’m a monster for consider a baby in the womb a child that deserves the right to be born.

I am losing people I love one breath at a time. And suddenly my anger has morphed into sadness. What could I have done differently to make them stay? Could I change who I am? Would I want to? Should I stop being honest? Would lying help? But I’ve been that person and I didn’t like her very much. I know from experience that pretending for a living can get very confusing. Eventually, one doesn’t know who they are anymore.

I’m fresh out of hope and inspiration. My emotions are like the flood waters rising. I’m waiting for a boat but all I see is more water…and dead fish floating.

The other night I went down to the lake to see how high the water had risen. It was all the way up and over the gravel path. There was a woman there who had just been dropped off by a man on a Harley. She was untangling her fishing pole. She looked out of place. She was wearing spiked high heels and a skin tight mini skirt. She had a leopard print, cleavage bearing top and a face full of pancake makeup with blurred lipstick. I was concerned for her so I approached.

She said, “The fishing pole got tangled on the bike.”

”Would you like some help?” I offered.

”No, I can get it.”

And I stood there feeling this swell of loneliness. What had brought her to this lake at dusk with a broken fishing pole? Who was the man who drove away and left her? What would she do if she actually caught a fish? I don’t know why, but I wanted to save her. But did she really even need saving?

So I said, “Good luck” and walked away. Because I didn’t know what I was doing there either. I had gone to see the flood but it hadn’t changed me.

This is life in the cracks. Death and dying. Loneliness in the aftermath for those left behind.

Jon Foreman sang, “Don’t let your spirit die before your body does,” in his song, “Terminal”. Is that what this is?

I guess one has to die before they can really live. So today I mourn.

“For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven: a time to be born, and a time to die.” Ecclesiastes 3:1-2

But there is also a promise:

”Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” – Matthew 5:4

I’m waiting, Lord.