One More Truth – Reflections on faith, truth, and being human

4. Respond

August 11, 2020 by michelle 4 Comments

A few years back, I ordered a trendy necklace that was nothing more than an engraved key on a simple chain. I ordered ‘TRUTH’, but when the key arrived, the word inscribed was ‘TRUST’. And I knew. Holding that key, I knew my endeavors in writing One More Truth had less to do with growing my understanding of truth, and everything to do with growing my trust in the One who is the Truth.

I’ve written at least a dozen drafts of this post. Some of them said what I needed to say. Some of them said what I needed to hear. I’m not satisfied until the page shows I’ve heard the truth, and by God’s grace, I’ve found the language to express it.

But what happens when I can’t hear the truth – when I can’t hear Him? What do I do when my questions don’t lead to answers? When it’s the middle of the night and the darkness is stirring every one of my fears, and I just want the comfort of a faith easily explained, how will I respond?

Will I demand the truth be wrangled into something palatable? Or will I trust?

Because the realm of faith is a mystery and I can cram all the knowledge, learning, and truth into my head, but at some point, I will be pressed to admit faith is not an explanation of all the answers, it is an invitation to come close to Jesus and experience Him. Faith is the distinction between mystery and confusion. I don’t have to know all the things to have faith; I have to know Jesus. If I know Him, that is enough. He is enough.

I think about Nicodemus, the teacher who came to Jesus in the middle of the night. He knew a lot, but he still had questions. “How?” he asked. That one word says so much – explain Your wisdom, explain the things that don’t make sense. Give me answers so I understand. Oh, the salvation of answers. Jesus says that’s not how faith works.

“Believe in Me,” He says.

Will I respond by believing before I understand?

I think about Peter, surrounded by darkness, fighting churning waters to come to Jesus, the One who says, “Do not be afraid. I am here.” Peter hears Him, sees Him, but the storm… Fears howl the loudest in the storm. Peter’s instincts are synced with a physical world, and everything he knows and all the forces he feels threaten to drown him inside and out, and only one prayer can do the undrowing. “Lord, save me!”

My understanding of a limitless God is limited – always will be – and yet He will continue inviting me to live in spiritual truth even though I can’t fully grasp it, even though adversity and uncertainty threaten to pull me under. Will I trust Him in the storms of crisis, loss, and pain? When there aren’t words to pray, in my weakness, will I sit with Jesus – the One who saves, the One who is there? Because that is faith enough.

True faith is a humbling experience.

Jesus smears mud on the eyes of a blind beggar – a baptism of living water and dust of the earth – and sight is restored. The beggar, once overlooked, becomes the center of attention and everyone wants to know the who, what, where, and how of the miracle and the Miracle Man. The man with fresh eyes admits he doesn’t know or understand the entire experience, all he knows is he was blind and now he can see. He knows God responds to worship and will – the two hands of trust, faith, and hope. He can’t explain the how, but he believes Jesus is who He says He is.

I confessed this series about having compassionate conversations would require the humility of working on oneself – on myself – but I’d be a fool to believe I can take credit for the work being done. Trust is my work. When I’m being asked questions I can’t answer, when I have questions of my own, when I know the Truth but can’t decipher the truths and lies of a broken world, will I feverishly pursue answers or will I persevere in the paradox of knowing Him and understanding little else?

Many are desperate to hear the right explanation, the real answers, the truth. But far more are desperate to see. When I don’t have the words, will I respond with confident hope in His power and promise? Will I live in the peace of understanding a fraction and trusting God with the rest?

My friend sends me a video of her little boys recreating the lessons of vacation Bible school. The older one says, “Trust Jesus”, and the younger one repeats it, and I watch – wistful and slightly jaded – as they repeat the words for a few rounds. Was it so simple once? I think about the many truths I’ve learned, the ways I’ve practiced truth by living it rather than explaining it. I think of my faith experiences and the times I was afraid, but knew Jesus was there. I think about the many times I’ve had to trust Him because there was nothing else I could do, and I remember His faithfulness over and over again. For what I’ve seen and what I can’t see, what I know and all I can’t know and may never know, the one truth most important is this: Trust Jesus.

Amen.

Step 4: Respond in truth by trusting the Truth.

Thanks for sharing:

3. Receive

July 7, 2020 by michelle 4 Comments

I woke up yesterday to pink clouds. The sky was preparing for the day, but the sunrise was still a ways off. I made coffee and went out to the back porch to watch the morning colors. And I was grateful – overwhelmed with gratitude, in fact. I was grateful to wake up before my alarm. I was grateful for coffee. I was grateful for a week spent at the ocean and grateful to be back in my home. I was grateful to pray with my eyes open, because praying with my eyes closed puts me to sleep. I was grateful for Monday and the mundane tasks planned for the day.

On mornings like these, every fiber of who I am willingly admits I have received grace upon grace upon grace. Breath in my lungs is grace, waking up to a new day is grace, and I take both those for granted before most days even begin. My life literally depends on God’s grace.

It’s a common belief that receiving God’s grace changes me. It doesn’t. How I receive God’s grace makes all the difference in who I become. It shapes my perspective of God, myself, and others.

I can receive His grace believing I deserve it, take credit for all the good in my life, and issue blame when things go wrong. Grace + pride.

Or I can receive His generous grace fully acknowledging how much I need it. Grace + humility.

As mentioned in the beginning of this series, humility reminds me I am not God and there is an order to things that my finite mind can’t imagine or comprehend. When I receive His grace with humility, I receive His Spirit – and a completely new perspective. My eyes open to His kindness all around me. Even in circumstances I wouldn’t choose, I see things through the lens of hope. Gratitude consumes me, prompting generosity within me, and somewhere between His grace and my gratitude, my capacity to love others explodes. Which is good, because my path will inevitably cross with people who need Jesus. And grace.

The gospels are story after story of Jesus receiving people, showing compassion, listening, forgiving, and getting close to people labeled bad, unclean, wrong, and unloveable. In many of these interactions, He hardly spoke a word. His presence, body language, behaviors, and the manner in which He looked at people, translated the message of grace – that it was for everyone. How they received it, of course, was completely up to them.

When grace motivates everything I do, think, or say, I receive others with compassion. I see an individual, not a ‘they, them, those’.

When I put my competence aside and recognize human understanding is limited (mine included), I receive others with mercy. I see the person rather than their opinion, problem, weakness, or choices.

When I appreciate the human condition (mine included) is shaped by hurt and loss, joy and belonging, hope, disappointment, and all things in between, I receive others with patience and affection. I listen. I may even learn.

Grace is the mystery of God. If I receive His grace, but it doesn’t translate in my message (spoken or unspoken), or manifest in my being or my doing, it is wasted. From head to heart to hands. People will remember the way I received them and how they felt when we shared common ground. Generously extending the grace I have received isn’t a nice idea, it’s the measure of my faithfulness – evidence His Spirit lives in me. If what comes out of me is not a fruit of the Spirit, I have work to do.

If I’m engaged in a conversation about a polarizing issue and I speak truth without grace, I have work to do. But that’s for step 4.

Relax my expectations. Release the tensions.

Step 3: Receive others with generous grace.

Thanks for sharing:

2. Release

July 1, 2020 by michelle 2 Comments

I don’t experience the world with my emotions. It’s easier to make sense of thoughts and ideas, so when uncomfortable emotions arise, I am notoriously horrible at showing them, sorting them, and for sure, resolving them. It took many years of growing up to acknowledge this. It took just as many years to admit ‘stuff it’ wasn’t working out.

The common language for emotional resolution – ‘let go, don’t worry about it, surrender it’ – didn’t give credit to the significance of whatever I was trying to resolve. How do I just ‘let go’ of something that mattered? That had meaning? That impacted and shaped me? That still makes me question myself and my value? How do I let go of something I don’t understand? I needed a physical image for the emotional process.

Release. That’s a tangible word. It’s a fitness word, so that works for me, but it’s also a word that implies there is effort and care involved. It implies I must be intentional and willing.

Relax connects the mind and body; release connects the body and emotions. When I release the tension of emotions, my body releases tension. When I release body tension, I’m more attuned to the emotional triggers making me tight or uncomfortable. Releasing these tensions means I can live freely. Fully. I can have conversations about polarizing issues without forcing compassion (kind of impossible to do anyhow) or demolishing my reputation. I like that.

I mentioned in Step 1 that this series is not-so-secretly about working on yourself. Knowing what you’re carrying with you is definitely part of the work. Identifying what is no longer useful is part of the work. Acknowledging the obstacles that trip you up and acknowledging they are tightly stitched to your pride is part of the work. Identity is emotionally connected to all sorts of things. Here are several things I’ve discovered I’m better off releasing:

Control. It’s not mine to have. Self-control, however, is a great pursuit (and a fruit of the Spirit).

Being right. It’s not that it doesn’t matter, it’s just that the desire to be right is an unrelenting motivator and unfulfilling motivation.

Motive. Speaking of motivation, when hidden reasons for doing something drive my willingness, I am not headed in a safe direction.

Platform. A platform is rarely shared. Jesus was all about presence, not platform. He invited conversation where more than one voice could be heard. Lives were changed when He brought His presence into unexpected spaces.

Agenda. Similar to motive, but much more obvious, an agenda is focused on self-promotion. It’s often attached to a platform. Unyielding, rigid – no good. The best agenda – particularly in conversations of conflict – is to keep myself disarmed and composed, possibly disarming the other person. My composure promotes peace within the conversation, and calm within those around me.

Resentment. It is a bitter, bitter poison. Forgiveness is the ultimate release. I can forgive people, mistakes, circumstances, myself – but l have to be willing first.

Ruminations of blame or regret. I do what I can to restore, but I cannot rehash. It steals too much from me. I ask myself this: “So what am I going to do – go back in time?” If the answer is no, I release the temptation to press rewind.

Fear. Also known as worry, concern, shadow thoughts, anxiety, insecurity, panic, hesitation…the list is long. Fear is pervasive and can attach itself to anything, including the ‘shoulds’.

The ‘Shoulds’. Unreasonable or unrealistic suggestions, projections, accusations, or ideologies. Before I grab a ‘should’, I ask myself if I want to hold it. Saying, “I don’t accept that,” saves me from the future work of release.

Release is a process. I know this because Christ’s perfecting work in and through me continues. But within my faith relationship, I’ve found that release is also a trust. When I strip the clever from my weakness and the fake from my insecurity, gather all the complicated things inside me, and lay them before the Lord in prayer, His grace covers me. His love strengthens me. His will moves me into something better.

Step 2: Release the tensions.

Thanks for sharing:

1. Relax

June 28, 2020 by michelle 6 Comments

I’m currently on vacation. The waves and cooler weather make relaxation easy here. The sand and sun relax my body. I’m not concerned with time or what’s being eaten for dinner. If sand gets tracked into the little cottage, I’m not worried about it. The kids – who have all surpassed me in height, as of the quarantine – are burying each other up to their necks and taking pictures. We’re jumping the Pacific’s icy waves, and we’re laughing together. I am relaxed.

What could ruin our good time together?

Expectations.

Relaxing my body is a great thing. My spirit is confined to my body, and if it’s comfortable in that body, all the better. But relaxing doesn’t begin in the body – it starts in the mind, particularly in the area where my unspoken, subconscious expectations are hidden. These expectations – of myself, of others, and of situations – are often unrealistic, and unchecked, they have the power to damage relationships, ruin a good mood, and burden my body. Until I confront them and evaluate if they are reasonable, beneficial, or worth clenching up over, I will continue to demand someone meet my expectations.

Relaxing my mind by relaxing my expectations is a proactive approach to life. It takes diligence and practice, time and focus. It requires ownership, and yes, it is work. I don’t want to spoil the next 4 steps for you, but this little series about having conversations with people who make you mad because their ideas are so archaic and their beliefs are so out there they must have the IQ of a gnat, is actually a series on how to work on yourself.

Because the only person you can control is you.

When engaging in conversations about topics that divide people, you only have control over you.

To expect more than that will negatively affect you – mind, body, emotions, and your biological systems and responses. You’ll get tied up out there in the big world where people have the free will to think, act, look, speak, feel, and decide differently from you.

So relax your expectations.

Expect people will disagree with you. Expect to be misunderstood and judged. Expect to have convincing explanations, strong research, and loads of passion, and expect that someone may not care. Expect challenges and moments where you are tongue-tied or corrected. Expect self-centeredness to come at you, and sometimes, come out of you.

‘Ok, Michelle, so just lower my expectations, toss heavy issues I care about to the wind, and become a pessimist?’

No, that sounds miserable. And in times such as these, when hard conversations need to be had and people are hungry for a glimpse of humility within these conversations, we can’t throw away opportunities to share the truth about things that matter. Here’s the beauty of relaxing my expectations in people and outcomes: it raises my capacity to hope and remain hopeful.

In faith, I expect that God will uphold the truth.

In hope, I expect that He will convict hearts and reveal understanding, in His time.

In trust, I expect that He sees all, knows all, and He is a Judge who is perfectly fair.

Because of His love, I expect that when my beliefs are challenged, when my understanding is questioned, when my doubts are activated, God is faithful to renew my spirit and refresh my peace when I come to Him and ask.

No matter who disagrees with me, I still get to be me.

Unchecked expectations carry the false belief that I will experience security and satisfaction when my expectations are met. Hope reminds me that Christ meets those needs. I can relax. That’s good news.

The topics are big and the issues are important, but promoting change within patterns of thinking and behavior is a long game. Endurance, patience, and humility are virtues for this long game. A conversation about a polarizing issue is a hopeful step toward change and understanding, but don’t expect that destiny rests in the outcome of one conversation.

Step 1: Relax – it’s just a conversation.

Thanks for sharing: