Blursings

The "Curse" of Our Gifts

This morning on facebook a relative posted a short video about the spiritual application of a pizza box. It's a two minute clip about how we as believers are vessels of Christ. Keep it in mind as you read this post because, as I'm sure you know, we cannot take credit for our gifts. James 1:17 reminds us that "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows."
  A few years ago at church we all took a spiritual gifts test. The goal was to identify our strengths so we can utilize them for service. I found it super-interesting. A couple of people were asked to speak briefly about their results and they said something that resonated with me and I'm guessing you get it, too.
They said that they know it's a blessing, and they are thankful for their gifts, but sometimes their blessing felt like a curse. That's why I sometimes refer to these things, in a tongue-in-cheek sort of way, as "blursings" because they feel like a combination of a blessing and a curse.
My friend has the gift of administration and she's amazing. Creative and organized, she is a master at making everything beautiful. Dozens of times I've heard people (myself included) say they wish they could just let her do whatever she wanted to makeover their homes. She likes things clean and organized and she's very very good at it.
But, for her, there's a downside. Disorder and mess bug her. Some people could overlook a messy bookshelf, but for my friend it would probably stress her out a little.
Then there's another lady. She spoke about one of her main gifts. The gift of mercy. Oh boy. When she said that this blessing sometimes felt like a curse I knew exactly where she was coming from because I have that one, too.
Compassion.
Several years ago I played "Truvy" in a stage production of "Steel Magnolias". When Shelby, regretting asking Truvy for a short haircut, begins to tear up, Truvy begs her to stop. "Oh sweetheart don't. Please don't cry or I will too. I have a strict policy that nobody cries alone in my presence."
Yep. I may not actually cry, but no one suffers in solitude if I'm around.
I'm glad I'm a compassionate person. But being compassionate means that there are times when my heart aches because of valleys I'm not actually walking through. If you are in the valley and need someone to hold your hand awhile, I'm your girl.
Don't misunderstand, I'm thankful for my gifts. Along with mercy, a couple of my other gifts are discernment and wisdom. I'm so grateful for them. I think if I had had a choice I would have picked those gifts.
But here's my point. I think that there's a reason there's some pain in the gift. What good is mercy all by myself, kept hidden? What good is wisdom if I don't share it?
Is a gift really a gift without some amount of sacrifice? Is it really worth anything if we don't grow, develop, and use it to bless others?
These gifts are meant to be manifold. Paul said in Acts "In everything I did, I showed you that by this kind of hard work we must help the weak, remembering the words the Lord Jesus himself said: 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.' "
Haven't you noticed that sometimes the best way to lift your own spirit is to bless someone else?
Let's embrace the sacrifice. Like Tom Hanks said in A League of Their Own, "It's supposed to be hard. If it wasn't hard, everyone would do it. The hard... is what makes it great."
Like when you knit, bake, clean, create, write, craft, or just give your time. When you sit and listen and let your presence chase away loneliness. The time you spend. The risk you take in being vulnerable, the inevitable hurt we invite when we love one another. It makes it sweeter, and richer, and more. The sacrifice of our "blursings"'is all part of the gift.

Expecting Unicorns

Sometimes things don't turn out the way we expect. In fact usually they don't. Sometimes it's a disappointment.  We loved the book and counted the days until the movie came out but we're all mad because they changed the ending and cast a short blonde instead of a tall brunette and cut our favorite scene. Sometimes the unexpected is a good thing. How many times is waiting for an unpleasant event much, much worse than actually doing the thing? Sometimes we think something is going to be a trial, but instead it's a joy. And sometimes things turn out neither better nor worse than we expected just different. 

But what I'm thinking about right now is the kind of expectation that ties in invisibly with our wishes.

I wonder how I would have felt if, when I was little, someone had told me that someday I'd have a unicorn. I would kept an eye out every single day waiting for her to show up. I would have fantasized about all the things we would do together. I would brush her glorious mane and ride her around wearing my flowing dresses. We would sit in green meadows looking picturesque and princessy. In fact I would probably get an honorary crown because how could  a girl own unicorn and not be the princess of something?

Eunice the Unicorn

But, as you might have guessed, no one ever told me I would be getting a unicorn, so I wasn't disappointed but amused when Eunice came along. I wasn't expecting her so I had no dreams of princessing around to be crushed by her blatant goatiness. She didn't have a mane to brush and if I don't have any flowing unicorn-riding dresses anyway.

But there have been times when I have expected unicorns. I thought a unicorn was coming, and it came, but in the form of a one-horned goat. 

It's so hard not to be disappointed. Especially when I allow the ugly joy-stealer of comparison to have an opinion about it. But while I was thinking about Eunice and her unconventional unicorn ways, I wondered what the Bible had to say about expectation.  

There are lots of quotes and quips lurking around that talk about expectation. Shakespeare said "Expectation is the root of all heartache." Someone else said "What screws us up most in life is the picture in our head of how it is supposed to be." 

There are some truth in those statements and others like them, but it seems rather bleak, doesn't it? So what does the Bible say?

The Bible doesn't talk about expectation as much as it does about hope. 

      Psalm 62:5  For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence, for my hope is from him.

      Philippians 1:20 As it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed,       but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life       or by death.

       Proverbs 24:14 Know that wisdom is such to your soul; if you find it, there will be a future, and your hope will not be cut off.

       Philippians 4:6 Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

And I am reminded of something.  That if we delight ourselves in The Lord He will give us the desires of our hearts. If my delight is in Him then my hope submits to His perfect plan. My expectations  can take a backseat to hope.  When God blesses us with a one-horned goat instead of mythical beauty, we can serve up our displaced expectation, or even our disappointment, as worship. We can be thankful that, whatever the outcome, He has our best interest at heart. Even when we don't understand. Even when it's different than what He's done for others. He never lets us down. Every single thing that He allows, gives, takes away, or prevents comes from his inestimable love. Even, and maybe especially, when it's not what we expected. 

Earworms and Other Intrusions

       The other day I was puttering around my kitchen making supper (we were having what my family calls "piglets" in case you're wondering) when I realized I had a song stuck in my head. An Earworm.  Pretty sure it had been there for the better part of the day. I often have a song in my head and when it's something like Never Alone by BarlowGirl or Brother by NeedtoBreathe then it's a fun time. My subconscious and I jam out to those tunes as we go about our merry way.
      Alas, in this case it was not Needtobreathe. It was the theme song for a cartoon on PBS. My boys like it. It's a cute show. Not to worry, it wasn't the dreaded Caillou or even the again popular Bob the Builder, but a new one called "Nature Cat".
 It has a theme song.

link

 "Nature cat, nature cat, nature CAAaaAAaat." Not something I want playing on repeat in my head.
All
Day
Long
   Luckily I know the cure for an earworm. You simply replace it with another song. Just sing the new song in your head instead of the unwelcome one. The trick is to choose a much, much better song. For example if you're unfortunate enough to be going about your day being mentally serenaded by a boy band, it won't do you any good at all to start singing a Justin Beiber song in your head to take it's place. Unless you like Justin Beiber, then go for it (also talk to a friend who can help you with finding some better music).
    It reminded me of other unwelcome junk that floats into my head- stuff a lot worse than my boys' TV show theme songs. Sometimes the garbage that finds its way into my mind are just thoughts. Thoughts like You're ugly and weird. There are so many things wrong with you it's appalling that you have any friends at all. Not good. Not true. When you and I have trash like that buzzing between our ears it's a big fat lie from the Enemy of our souls.
     But there's some really, really good news. Just like there's a cure for an earworm, there's a cure for the lie. It's the same cure, actually. To get rid of a lie, replace it with a truth.
   The lie says I'm ugly and damaged? God's Word says I am fearfully and wonderfully made. The lie says I'm unlovable? In the 31st chapter of Jeremiah, God said “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness."
     To get rid of a lie replace it with something else.  Like the earworm cure, you just sing the new song in your head instead of the unwelcome one. Just be sure to replace it with something much, much better.  

Unexpected Joy

Unexpected Joy

        It was a May Term class. Models of Youth Ministry, I think it was called. There would be a small group of us, five guys and three girls, traveling around together with our professor and learning about different youth ministries. It sounded like fun and I was looking forward to it.Until our very first meeting, that is. I remember sitting there at a table in silence as the eight of us just sort of stared around the room. No one talking or joking or asking about majors or hometowns. Nope, we were just sitting there as if we were trying to see who could be the most boring.
 Ugh. 
        I am not a shy person. I like people, I like conversations and connections. I remember thinking that this was going to be the worst class ever. A month-long awkward silence stuck in a van with people who didn't want to know me. 
I was SO wrong.We had a wonderful time. It turned out to be one of my favorite classes ever. Now, when I think back on that class I smile. We had inside jokes and nicknames (for example, two of the guys called each other “Seth” and I'm still not sure anyone knows why) we found out about each other's lives and families. It was amazing. I would be thrilled to see those people today. And here I thought it was going to be a study in how not to have fun.
I was reminded of this special time in my life as I was reading Kay Warren's book about joy. She was talking about Jesus and his disciples and offered a perspective that we don't often think about: They were joyful. They had fun together. The Bible doesn't tell us that they had inside jokes or nicknames, but I wouldn't be surprised if they did. Their ministry wasn't only about duty. These men were friends. I know when I read the gospels I sort of imagine Jesus and the twelve saying things like, “Okay, gentlemen, this is the part where we're supposed to go to Samaria, because this is when Jesus talks to that woman at the well. We'll go get some food, like it says we're supposed to, and meet Jesus back at the well at one. Okay? Let's go.” 
Of course it wasn't like that, but I can't be the only one who has overlooked this idea. I'm not trying to make the Bible say something it doesn't. I was encouraged by this perspective- thinking about the realness of Jesus. I assumed that my class was going to be dull and unfriendly, but it was a joy. I make assumptions when I read about Jesus, too. What a joy to think that He was and is not only Lord, but someone who laughs and enjoys. Jesus isn't just the One we go to with our hurts, but He wants to share in our happiness, too. What a joyous thing to think about. 

How Does He Love Us?

 

How does He love us? Let Him count the ways. 

In my Sunday School class we've been learning about the overwhelming evidence of the accuracy of the Bible. It's been fascinating. Did you know that DNA is a lot like computer code? It's complicated and specific, and no way, no how, assembled by chance. There's also archaeology. Scads of evidence corroborates the accounts of the Bible. Amino acids and ancient pottery- it all reinforces what we already know. I really enjoy it, but it frustrates me, too, because this study material wouldn't exist if it weren't for skeptics, but most skeptics aren't going to listen anyway. So what’s the point? Many people want to be their own authority and have rewritten the truth to make that a possibility. 
For a long time I thought that my frustration was a flaw. I was just being narrow and overly sensitive. 
Until I decided to try something I had read about: I asked God to tell me things He loves about me.
That's right. 
I asked God what he loves about me. 
I waited until I had a rare quiet moment to myself and I asked Him. He told me other things, too, but I was surprised when He brought up the topic I just mentioned. My impatience with refusals to acknowledge Him? My discomfort with the fact that we have to arm ourselves with extra-biblical information because of the willful ignorance of others? He loves that about me. Loves it. I thought it was a defect, but He loves it. 
And here is my point: We live in an upside-down world.We're bombarded with lies every day and it changes the way we see things. God sees things differently. 
I encourage you to ask Him to open your eyes to the lies you're believing about yourself. Really listen. Take a quiet moment and ask Him to tell you what He loves about you and get ready to be overwhelmed because you are profoundly loved, His list is long, and He may say something that surprises you.