Backpacking Through Joshua, Week 3

This week's assignment focuses on Joshua 3, where God leads Josh and peeps across the Jordan river.  Will they trust and follow (obey) His leadership?  Spoiler alert:  they do.  And, similar to how the Red Sea was parted, the Jordan River was stopped in it's tracks flow, and the folks ambled on over the river bed and through the woods to Grandmoth... to the Promised Land.  Amber encouraged us to think about what might be standing in our way from truly believing in and following God as our leader.   

Is it hot in here?

Our "putting it out there" questions for this week are:

1. Are there some areas in your life in which you allow God to lead more than others?
2. Tell of a time you followed God's lead into an unfamiliar territory.  If you don't have a particular experience, talk about why you think that may be. 

Again, I ask...is it hot in here?

1. To this, I answer...unfortunately..."Doh!"  I allow God to lead me in just about everything that seems to feel logical and comfortable.  Previous sentence strikes me as so arrogant (I allow God...hmm).  When things are a little or a lot uncomfortable, uncertain, scary, and painful, I tend to show my very human colors and...balk.  Stick my heels in the sand (or my head, either one).  Fortunately God is THE expert at working with blockheads like me and Charlie Brown, and while I'm not perfekt at trusting Him, His work in me, despite my own wisdom and plans, is maturing some fruit.

2.  As I've mentioned before, last year, God led me in producing the musical "Annie" at our church.  I had to trust Him when:  few men auditioned, no dogs showed up to an open audition for "Sandy", I had more production spots to fill than people to fill them, I was tired, discouraged,  I was often disappointed with the lack of support from of folks I had wanted to count on, sets weren't finished the day before the show, mics weren't working the day before the show, lights weren't working after the first weekend of shows.  You get the idea.  For this recovering control freak, my world was blown open with a myriad of situations outside my control.  Ooooh, do you see how many times I used the word "I" above??? (very telling) It was uncomfortable. And, at times when I forgot to trust in Him, and used my own resources, I admit I wanted out.  Wanted Xanax.  But God led me to allow Him to lead.  Allow Him to fight the fires.  Allow me to rest in Him (if I would).  He had a plan.  He used the broken, the imperfect, the grumpy, and the worn out.  And gave us a show.  An amazing show in which I hope and pray He was glorified and smiling at its final curtain.

So...I'm not where I want to be...but I'm getting to where I want to go (Phil 1:6; Hebrews 12:1-3) .  Many folks have talked about their "word of the year", and as I muse over this, I think the one most on my heart is:  obedience.  I DO have faith that God is my Husband, my Savior, my Redeemer, and my Father.  I DO believe the Holy Spirit indwells me.  I DO believe that Jesus hung on the cross for my sins--past, present and future.  And finally, I DO believe that in order for Him to lead my life, I must surrender it to Him and obey.  Thank You, Jesus, for Your infinite patience and love for me.  In Your name.  Amen.

Once again, a huge thank you to His Girl for all her hard work and faith in action in leading our trek.  Blessings all.

Daniel SAFARI: Week 3.

In this week's study, we are discussing fortitude vs. compromise. To be clear, we're not talking the type of compromise where everyone gives a little bit and then wins a bit. We're talking about compromise as it relates to letting go of our values during times of duress.

The questions I'm choosing to address are the following:

• Post about a time when you got an unexpected benefit as a result of a trial.
• Are trials a necessary part of Christianity? Discuss.

Three weeks before I turned 30, my mother died.  In February, it'll be 11 years. Oh, dear.  That means I'll be 41 next month.  Shhh.  Don't tell anyone.  She died on my father-in-law's 60th birthday.  I don't love February.  Not only is it a gray month, but, even 11 years later, I still have gray days when I think of my mom.  I often try to plan little treats and/or vacations during February to make it a more palatable month.  Tell me you do those types of things, too.  Well, not planning trips and treats in February, but planning little happies when you know you're not going to be so happy on your own.  Just me?

My mother and I had a tenuous relationship in my 20s.  Probably this had something to do with my growing independence from her, and my lack of codependence regarding her alcoholism.  It was not pretty.  In fact, because of her drinking, I had very little to do with her. Like a toddler who touches the stove, I was tired of being burned.  I learned to avoid her, so I saw her and spoke to her as little as possible.

And then I had children.  And I had a mother, who, jaded and diseased as she was, loved me and dearly, fiercely loved my children.  Yes, that's right.  She loved us all well.  As well as anyone could who didn't love themselves. She wanted to be a part of their lives, and part of mine, of course.  About 10% of me wanted that, too, so the other 90% came along for the ride.  Why?  Because I was torn between having a broken grandmother for my children (and mother for me) and not having one at all.  So, we bumped along until the last time I saw her conscious:  Feb 16, 1999.  She had come to visit me for Valentines Day weekend, to see the kids (then 2.5 and 8 months) and care for them while Big and I had dinner out.  I'll never forget her out in the snow on the morning she was scheduled to go back home, trying desperately not to freeze to death as she had her first ciggie of the day.  When she came in to warm up and have coffee, I asked her if she was ready to get home.  She said, "Well, it would be nice to have my coffee and my ciggie in the same place."  We both chuckled.  I remember that she didn't feel all that hot when I dropped her off for her ride home.  Five days later, she died.  Diagnosis?  Strep pneumonia.  Seriously?  Yes.  She was misdiagnosed as having the flu, so wasn't given any meds.  When I was called to see her on Saturday afternoon, Feb 21st, she was full of tubes and had only hours to live. 

And yet.

In this instance...her death was a beautiful, tragic, amazing mercy.  I believe that God was there, and further, I believe to my core that my mom was healed completely and utterly that day. Not healed here.  Not healed such that we could have a relationship.  Perhaps God knew that our time would be better spent having coffee someday in heaven, after the dust settled down here.

I do not believe that I would be as strong in my faith were it not for the "untimely" death of my mother, at age 54.

Losing my mom was a trial.  To this day, it remains a trial of sorts because...as much as we were broken in our relationship together, I loved her as fiercely as she loved me.  And I miss her.  Every day.  For, as much as alcohol was a part of our lives, so was her sacrifice and hard work and love for me.  She did the best she could with what she had, and then...I believed God released us both.
 
I believe my trip down to the hospital chapel where I released her into His care was a turning point in my faith.  A turning point which allowed me to seek and see something bigger than the intricacies and inadequacies of our mother-daughter relationship. Bigger than what I could ever hope to create or be apart of on this earth. 

Are trials necessary in the lives of Christians?  In the pre-sin era, I'd say definitely not.  However, based on what we're learning on this SAFARI, I know that we must consider them His refinement for our eternal benefit. 

2Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.
James 1:2-3 (NIV)

Disclaimer:  To those of my friends who have lost parents, especially recently, please know that nothing in my post was intended to harm you in any way.  May the Lord bless you and keep you on your journey of grief.  May you feel His sweet new mercies each day. xxxooo