Church

Dirty Laundry

This year, it is easy to rejoice.

I may have been jealous – even angry – in the past, but this year is different. It is remarkably easy to rejoice in the gift of children you all have been given.

Maybe it is because I wrote a book. Maybe it is because I said my piece. Maybe it is because my dirty laundry has been aired in the bright sunshine of confession and absolution. Maybe it is because you all have been so kind and sensitive and generous and inclusive in sharing the news of your gift-children with me.

Most likely, though, it is because God has given me good gifts of my own: the gifts of peace, understanding, and faith in His salutary Word that children – even the children born to and adopted by others – are truly gifts from Him.

So, bring on the birth announcements. Shower me with news of adoption referrals. You can even use one of the four baby names I have zealously hoarded in my heart for my own dream children.

Your children are gifts from God, and I get to rejoice in them.

The Hunger Games

I finally did it. I read The Hunger Games trilogy.

The youth at our church have been clamoring for me to read Suzanne Collins’ series for years, but the waiting list at the Dallas Public Library for these books is perpetually so long I keep wadding up my interest and tossing it in the nearest trashcan.

However, my eldest niece showed up to our shared vacation spot this past week with all three books in hand. She was gracious to loan everything hungry, on fire, and flying to me for a few days so that I can now hold my head high in the youth room.

Everyone was right. The books are hard to put down once you start reading them, but I won’t opine on dystopian fantasy nor bore you with my impressions of Katniss and Panem and everything in between. I also refuse to comment on the plot, because, if you are anything like me, you don’t want to know what’s going to happen in a story until it unfolds on the pages before you. Part of the fun of reading a new story and immersing yourself in an alternate reality is playing cat and mouse with the author’s foreshadowing.

I will, however, draw your attention to one line of societal commentary which is revealed through the conscience of the story’s protagonist:

I no longer feel any allegiance to these monsters called human beings, despise being one myself…Because something is significantly wrong with a creature that sacrifices its children’s lives to settle its differences…who does it benefit? No one.” (Mockingjay, 377)

I don’t think anyone in our own nation today would argue with the protagonist.

Except when it comes to abortion.

Because, in our own dystopian world, it is okay to sacrifice a child’s life, period. No unsettled differences need even apply.

True Compassion

My husband drew my attention to an article in the most recent issue of Gottesdienst. Think on Rev. David Petersen’s words:

Compassion leads to action, but is not action. It is identification and suffering with the afflicted. The old saw “misery loves company” usually means we like to bring others down with us, but we might turn it around a bit. We might see the example of our Lord and recognize that compassion loves by joining misery. “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin” (Heb. 4:15 ESV).

Compassion moves the compassionate to action eventually. That action is often material aid, practical assistance, or comfort to relieve the afflicted, or the proclamation of Law and then forgiveness and hope in Christ. But even before the action there is the sympathy and identification. Sometimes, maybe most times, those who are hurting need to hear and know that their hurt is valid and is also unjust. Strangely, it is comforting to know that our mental anguish, our sense of frustration, and our anger are legitimate reactions to a sinful and unjust world…

The first response to suffering isn’t a solution or a fix, but pain. This pain carries with it the realization that nothing afflicts any of us that is not common to man or that our Lord Himself did not endure in the greatest and most terrible measure. This is different from gratitude. It recognizes that it could have been us, such as we hear in the oft-used John Bradford line: “There but for the grace of God go I.” That is part of it, to be sure. But compassion is suffering that is felt in the heart and mind because someone else is suffering and shouldn’t be. They are like sheep without a shepherd. That sad plight moves the heart of the observer first to pity; then comes gratitude and action.*

* Petersen, David H.  (Trinity 2012, Vol. 20, No. 1). “Praying for Pity’s Sake.” Gottesdienst: The Journal of the Lutheran Liturgy, 9-10.

Comfort Food

When I’m going through an especially rough patch, I eat. You know those times – waiting for test results, receiving “the call” about a friend’s new baby, being bombarded with questions about your family life, wondering when or if you’ll ever add to your family. In those moments, I rummage through my snack cupboard. (Yes, I’ve upgraded from a drawer to a cupboard.) I’ve eaten my share of chips and popcorn. I’ve licked the ice cream bucket clean. Then I feel guilty about eating all that stuff and finish off with some yogurt and blueberries.

While those food items may make me feel better momentarily, they don’t satisfy completely. Do you know what helps me even more? There’s food that satisfies even more than the salty and the sweet. It’s the Body and Blood of Christ. In Him is full and complete satisfaction. He gives me my daily recommended allowance and more. He knows exactly what I need to remain balanced and healthy. His food cleanses my body of sin and makes me whole again. I can have seconds and thirds and fourths. The Lord’s Supper is an unlimited food buffet. Now that’s comfort food.

Her Hands Are Full

Snake’s alive! This world sure is a Debbie Downer when it comes to kids.

I have a friend who is expecting Baby # __ (insert any numeric value over the culturally acceptable number of two), and almost anyone and everyone I tell about Baby’s pending birth says of my friend: “Wow. She has her hands full!”

Not, “Congratulations!” or “Wonderful!” or “How exciting!” or “Praise God for His good gift!” but a pair of raised eyebrows and strained words of judgment.

Is it really such a strange thing to us in the Church that a married couple should welcome more than two children into their family as gifts from God? For, you see, that is what children are to us. They are gifts. We know this to be true, because that is what God tells us in His Word. Children are a heritage from Him, and the couple who has them is blessed. (Psalm 127)

Sure, children may be work. They may require us to give up our annual trek to Sonoma or to forgo buying a new dress every Easter or to miss sleeping for an entire year, but that does not change the truth in God’s Word that children are a sign of His favor. And God’s Word doesn’t differentiate. Baby #8 is just as much of a blessing and a gift as Baby #1. We are so selfish when we think that it is our love and desire that make a child valuable, as if our own wanting or not wanting should determine the goodness of God’s gifts. It is God’s love that gives any of us value, including the children He wants to give to us.

So, whenever someone gives me a “Wow, she has her hands full!” in response to my friend’s blessed state, I usually have to manhandle my eyeballs to keep them from rolling and squeeze my lips shut to keep a sigh of exasperation from escaping. Once my body parts are properly submissive, I try to smile brightly and confess boldly, “Yes, her hands are full of blessings from God!”

Either children are a blessing, or they aren’t. Either God’s Word is true, or it isn’t. Which one is it?

If you don’t know, ask a barren woman.

So You Wanna Complain?

There’s a psalm for that. Yes, you can complain to God about your situation. This world is full of injustices, and barrenness is one of them. God is fully aware of our childless home; He knows the desires of our hearts. Thus, He invites us to bring our sorrows and hurts to Him. When we complain to God, we give evidence to our faith, that we know God is gracious and merciful to hear us and has the power to help us.

Even more, God tells us HOW to complain. There are psalms of lament in the book of Psalms. These psalms show us that it is good and right to complain to our heavenly Father. The very words to use in our complaints are given to us by God Himself.

So what’s in a psalm of lament?  1) a complaint to God about what has gone wrong and God’s failure to help  2) a plea to God for help  3) a confession of faith in God’s goodness  4) a promise of praise for God’s help

Psalm 13 demonstrates all four of these components.

Psalm 13

1 How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?

2 How long must I take counsel in my soul and have sorrow in my heart all the day? How long shall my enemy be exalted over me?

3 Consider and answer me, O Lord my God; light up my eyes, lest I sleep the sleep of death,

4 lest my enemy say, “I have prevailed over him,” lest my foes rejoice because I am shaken.

5 But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation.

6 I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me.

A psalm of lament gives voice to our sorrows and shows us how to complain. When our lives don’t go as planned, we hurt. It seems as if God has abandoned us, and that makes us angry. This is where Satan enters. He seeks to skew our vision and desires to turn us away from God. Instead, we run with those hurts and angers to Jesus. We unload it on Him, for He alone can take our anger and heal our hurts. Thus, God uses our anger to teach us to rely on Him for all of our needs, both of body and soul.

Share your feelings of sorrow, hurt, and anger with your pastor. Go to him; he is God’s man for you in your time of need. Your pastor will help you complain to God (He can give you a whole list of lament psalms) and will also comfort you with words of God’s grace and mercy.

So go ahead and complain. God wants to hear from you. In fact, He has given you the best words to use – His own.