Thoughts About God, Writing & Life (Mostly Decaffeinated)

You might never get another chance.

Do you want to live with regrets?

Where’s your sense of adventure?

You’re tough enough not to be hurt.

If it doesn’t work out, you’ll be fine. You’ll bounce back. You’re strong….

I listened to this voice–and it was wrong.  (Notice, it cleverly used my best attributes against me.) But nonetheless, I acted. I rushed blindly in, and although I’m physically and morally unscathed, I’m not so sure the emotional toll was worth it.

Thrilled with the outcome, my advisor came back for round two.

You’re not really smart enough to be a lawyer. What are you thinking? Applying to law school?

If you can’t be content now, what makes you think you ever will be?

Relationships are the most important thing. Who cares what you do, or what you achieve? Certainly not God.

Achievements won’t amount to a hill of beans in eternity. The only thing that matters is loving people, right?

You’re going to be spinning your wheels, wasting your effort.

You’re ruining a good life. For nothing.

Don’t do it.

…

It’s amazing how persuasive that line of thinking can be…when it’s contained in your own mind. (There is an abundance of good reasons for going to law school. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that it’s the next step for me–but, even so, if I’m pushed to second guess, then I’m not walking in faith, and that’s the end game.) I live with a bully I cannot escape. He’s a fear mongerer who pushes me,  nettles me, and insists that I’m missing out. Somedays he has free rein to push me into the very arms of Christ for refuge. Other days he sits in “time out” plotting revenge. He’s never far away.

He pays attention to what I learn. Good principles. He twists them into carefully concocted lies, laced with justifications and self-preserving platitudes, but the tone doesn’t really change. There’s an underlying sense of panic, and at the root of all the arguments: self, self, self.

My flesh is at war with my spirit.

And I can’t win against it. This bully is twice as strong as me, and smarter too…dash it all.

But, in the fall-out of my failure I learned that Jesus Christ, the Captain of Heaven’s Armies, is more than able to fight this battle for me. I remember running down the road, tears streaming down my face. I couldn’t get a handle. I couldn’t stop the barage of tormenting accusations and threats. “Fight for me!” I asked. “Oh Jesus. I can’t do it. Fight for me.”

Instantly, a switch turned off. All that was left was peace.

But, after a couple days, it slowly started again.

This thing, this sinful flesh, it lives inside of me. But, the Holy Spirit lives there too.

This is the battle for my thoughts, my mind, my will, my actions–and it has eternal ramifications. I have to face it. I know you do too. I want you to know that you’re not alone, and God can silence your accuser, hold you close, and speak the truth over you. The truth?

No weapon formed against you shall prosper. Isaiah 54:17

You are a child of the King. Romans 8:17

You have a destiny to fulfill. I Peter 2:9

You are loved–very loved.  Ephesians 3:18

Even if you do “ruin your life” by contradicting the bully-voice, that’s okay. God makes great things from brokeness–it’s His specialty. Not all of His plans concerning our lives make sense. Looking back, we understand some things, dimly, but, the future is God’s for the keeping, and ours for the trusting.

Any text now it’s going to be news that you’re breaking out and coming to join us humans on the outside. I know it’s getting a bit uncomfortable in your mom’s tummy. Of course, you know, deep down, that there’s more to life than floating along in the womb. It’s just about time to get outside and explore it all, and I can’t wait to help you do it!

(Er…exploring. I’ll leave the birthing to the professionals.)

You are coming at an interesting time–in world history, I mean. You know I didn’t really use a computer until I was like seven or eight? And then I shared it with the rest of the family? (Your grandma loved playing pac-man on that thing.) And, yeah e-mail came along in my early teens. So the technology gadgets you’ll get to play with for all your life will be super cool (barring a weird energy-zapping sci-fi apocalypse that destroys all the gadgets.) But aside from all the advances in medicine and technology, people around the world are super stressed out. America is being reshaped with more laws and regulations piling up per day than all the dirty diapers you will ever make, and a lot of countries are threatening to launch missiles at our country.

Whew. Are you anxious yet?

This is the environment you’re being born in. I won’t belabor (no pun intended) all the evil that’s going on out there, but it’s important that you know.

It’s important because you are special, young man. I know your father. I know your mother. I know your grandparents and your great-grandparents. I know where you’ve come from.

You are the hope of the future, my little nephew. Not necessarily to fix the world, har, that’s really got to wait till the Second Coming, I think. What I mean by the “hope of the future” is that you have a chance to shine the light of Christ’s love in a dark place. Where there is light there is hope. This is your charge: to love God–even when the world and the forces of hell are determined to pull you away from Him. Don’t despair. God will never let you go. God will never fail you.

God saw you before time began. He knew your name. He planned for us to be aunt and nephew. At some point on some level we’re really going to need each other.

So even though a part of me worries about what you are going face in the coming years as evil grows worse by the day, another part of me realizes that you were born for such a time as this–and the world will be a better place because of you. I’m looking forward to meeting you, Samuel Elijah. I love you very much.

Aunt Bea

Some theologians say that no man dreaded death as much as Christ—the agony he came under at the garden of Gethsemane, the way he sweat blood, the way he plead for the cup to pass.

It does seem strange that he would fall under such torment when you broaden your focus to all the events leading up to the death of Christ. Jesus was in full command of the time line. He knew when and where the arrest would occur. He knew how many hours he had left. At any time he could have called in legions of angels, in fact, he could have batted his eyes and struck the whole city with blindness. The earth could have opened up and swallowed those soldiers with their torches and swords, and Judas along with them.

So, if Jesus had that kind of power at his finger tips, why the agony? Why the dread of death? Other Christians have been martyred and they’ve gone to Christ walking in grace and empowerment without fear of dying. So why would Christ have a different experience, especially since he knew He was going to be raised from the dead?

He dreaded the suffering of sin. Bearing the holy, white-hot wrath of God dispensed upon Him, and Him alone—that was the cup. I know the way I feel when I come under the conviction of the Holy Spirit. It’s terrible. I just want it over. I can’t imagine coming under judgment for the sins of the whole world. But Jesus took on the punishment for all.

That’s why there is no sin too big.

To say there are sins that God can’t forgive is to say that the sacrifice of Christ wasn’t enough. As he hung there and breathed out, “It is finished.” He meant it. There’s nothing I can do to make myself more acceptable to God. So, I can leave my puny efforts at religion at the foot of His cross along with my hate, bitterness and pride and as I lift my head, there is no guilt, no shame, no charges against me. I am free, washed clean by his mercy.

The veil in the temple dividing me from the holy of holies was torn in two, and a new covenant began. A covenant of family. Of father and daughter.

It is finished.

Hallelujah, What a Savior!

Thank you, Jesus, for dying in my place, for suffering the wrath of the Father for my sins. Thank you for loving me enough to make me your joint-heir, your family. I love you!

If you’ve ever been in a place and felt like you belonged—maybe a family reunion, or a writer’s conference, or that particular café—then you know the sense of comfort you get, the feeling that your world has clicked into place. You know beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are exactly where you need to be, doing exactly what you need to do.

That is the feeling I got as I toured Liberty University School of Law last weekend. The place and the people fit, so well.

As Mom and I journeyed home, I proposed stopping for lunch at a deli-ish place. Somewhere “the locals” would like to eat. Restaurant chains swallow up enough money. Time to support local moms and pops!! Yes!

Sometimes I curse my romantic notions.

I found the perfect little place for our mid-day repast on the way home to Statesville. A little Italian restaurant off the beaten path. The food was amazing! I had a wrap: chicken and bacon, snuggled up with lettuce and ranch dressing in warm toasty pita bread, with chips and a deli pickle, thank you.  (I don’t eat the pickle, but I do like to see it on the plate. Somehow it just makes it more official.

Mom had a lamb gyro salad. She was happy for a change from the usual chicken. We ate and then got back on the road. Back at the house, I was instantly swept away in the euphoric effects of a sudden appearance by my dear brother, up from Myrtle Beach to surprise me for my birthday, and then there was unpacking, and washing everything. (Mom was still suspicious of invisible bugs from Super 8—who can trust a room where Fox doesn’t come through the TV except in Spanish and the remote is held together with tape?)

And all was well…until it wasn’t.

Momsie and I had been poisoned, food poisoned. (It’s not interesting since there was no motive behind it. It’s simply an accident and not worthy of any novel plot. ) But, spending my birthday perched just feet away from the bathroom had it’s perks. Mum and I could exchange symptom updates. (Misery loves company.) And, I got to watch movies, home movies.

People I missed, things I’d forgotten. Happy times long gone by. Sometimes life drags you along so far, so long that you forget what you look like on roller skates for the first time, or what your grandpa’s voice sounds like, or just how much your family loves you. You get to believing that you have to be so tough. You have to be an adult with the shield of an armadillo and a heart of stone to forge through all the disappointments and the pain. But that’s not true. Not true at all.

It doesn’t matter if a man doesn’t like me enough to marry me–yet. It doesn’t matter if life doesn’t go the way I thought it would. God understands my frustrations, but He’s got a purpose behind everything I can’t make sense of. He knows who I am. He hasn’t misplaced me. He created me to be His Bea, to bring some sparkle to the lives of others, to seek adventures in the mundane, and to enjoy my relationship with Him.

Yes, I spent my birthday healing—from food poisoning and from lie poisoning. It was a good birthday.