So in my other post, I promised more details regarding my prolonged blogging absence. Why I make promises like that, I’m not sure, because really, more than a year has gone by and do you know how many details are in a year? Well, there are LOTS of details in a year. And here I sit staring blankly at this darn screen with nary a hint of where to begin.

So I guess I’ll get right to the point. My very worst point. Because isn’t that what you’d really like to know about anyway? I mean, when I’m reading someone’s blog, I’m generally thinking, “OK, that’s nice. But what’s the bottom line here. WHAT’S THE BOTTOM LINE.”

So my bottom (as in rock bottom) was about this time last year. It was probably the day my dad (a seasoned Marriage and Family Therapist who’s seen his share of people with issues) asked me very seriously if I was suicidal. The question alone was enough to take my breath away, but what really frightened me was my answer. I’ve had my share of anxiety and I’m definitely melancholy, but suicide? That was never even on my radar screen until last summer.

I’ve known people who were suicidal and you know what, being on the other side of it was totally different. I figured anyone who was suicidal just wanted to die, to be gone, had no reason to live. I suppose that may be the case for some, but not for me. Actually, I didn’t want to die. To the contrary, I WANTED my children to have a mother and my husband a wife. And I WANTED to be my children’s mother and my husband’s wife. I WANTED to see my children grow up, to grow old with my husband, to enjoy life and to fulfill my life’s purpose. My thoughts of suicide were not out of want to be gone, but simply out of want for <i>relief</i>.

It’s hard to describe, but emotionally, I felt like I was walking along the top of a sharp mountain ridge with steep cliffs on either side. I was desperately trying to keep moving forward but as time went on, I felt like I was losing control.  I was terrified that something was going to push me over the edge…make me snap, cause me to have a nervous breakdown, hurt myself or my kids, I didn’t know what. I asked myself on several occasions, “Is this what it feels like to lose your mind?” The energy it took to simply put one foot in front of the other and keep going was totally exhausting. I completely lacked motivation and my daily goals were literally reduced to two things: making sure my kids had three meals a day and making sure they were safe in their beds each night. Anything on top of that, like having fun, connecting with my husband, seeing friends or going to the store was gravy.

Now, I realize there are a lot of people in the world dealing with far worse circumstances than I was. And I think we humans are designed to withstand periods of intense emotional stress. But for me, the thing that made my situation feel so crippling was that it seemed endless, indefinite. I saw no “light at the end of the tunnel.” I couldn’t imagine how things might change. Stuck. Everything seemed immovably stuck. I now have a new understanding of hopelessness. And as tragic as it sounds even now, it’s the hopelessness that made death seem like a relief.

Keep in mind that the whole time this was happening, I really had no box to put it in.  The symptoms of depression showed up about the same time I found out I was pregnant and I had never had depression before.  But I have had challenging 1st trimesters in every pregnancy so in my effort to make sense of it, I figured I was just having a particularly difficult 1st trimester.  And even though the story sounds relatively coherent now, going through it was a different story.  It was nothing but blackness.

And then there was the guilt.  I cannot tell you how overwhelming the guilt was.  I mean, here I was with SO MUCH compared to most.  I had a great husband, 3 healthy children & one on the way, all my needs were met, etc.  I’d try to will myself out of it–”I just need an attitude adjustment,” or “I need to be grateful for what I have.  So many people would love to have what I have,”  or “I’ve been pregnant 3 other times, I can handle this,” or “Just pull yourself together and suck it up.  Stop being a wimp,” or “I’m sure God called us to this place so stick it out.”  I had one close friend tell me our church was not growing because of me.  I was plagued with guilt.

And then there was the confusion about what God was doing.  To me it seemed like God was showing signs that our time at our church was over.  Meanwhile, Brian was sensing the exact opposite.  And I’m thinking, “What gives God?  We both want desperately to do what You want us to do and we’re asking, so how is it that we seem to be getting totally different answers?”  And then we’d get opposite messages from people around us.  Some would say they thought we should leave; others said they saw us there long term.  I was desperately confused.

I had my moments of anger towards God, but mostly I felt abandoned by Him.  I definitely felt abandoned. Surely He saw me in pain; did He overlook me?  But as I said, this is how I felt; it wasn’t what I knew the Bible promised.  I knew the Bible said He will never, ever forsake me.  But was this an exception?  Was He really a good God?  At this point, I was even questioning whether I still believed the Bible.  In the end though, I chose to believe, not because I felt it (CERTAINLY not because I felt it), but because He had proved Himself over and over again before.  And believe me, I had to dig deeper than I’ve ever dug  in order to hold on to the promise that He never lets go and that He IS good, even when things seem so bad.  His goodness is transcendent, even if I can’t see it.  So I hung on…and I made it clear to Him that I didn’t know how long I could keep holding on.

Meanwhile, Brian and I were completely missing each other in every way.  We argued constantly.  We were both dealing with so much stuff (me with my junk and him with the huge responsibility of leading a church that was clearly at a major crossroads).  Saying we were on different pages is the understatement of the century.  But then, in the course of 2 days, God broke through as if to say, “ENOUGH!  The confusion is over.”  It was at that point Brian realized how badly I was doing.  He immediately resigned from his position…and watched his vision die right before his eyes.  I know it was enormously painful for him.  As far as I’m concerned, his sacrifice on my behalf is probably the single most healing part of my recovery to date, and a real-life example of Ephesians 5:25 (”Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her…”).

So, we sold our home and many of our possessions, we moved across the country to my parents’ house, Brian found a teaching job, we found a new church home that ministers to our souls, we bought a new home and we’re starting a new chapter.  I have no doubt we’ll be in full-time ministry again but I’m grateful for this season of rest and reflection.  There is a lot to process after an experience like ours and I expect we’ll be doing so for years.  But one thing I already know: I hit bottom…and there was my Rock.

This post will most likely be unpopular with many, if not most of you. It might even serve as a catalyst to some not-so-nice email. I’m OK with that. And though it may appear I am a glutton for torture, I am merely writing in response to a comment left by Karen on my last post. Here’s what Karen said:

Hi Amy,

I have visited your church and have seen some of what your husband believes about women’s roles (or lack of). I find it interesting that for all of your candor on this blog, you do not respond to the few comments on women’s rolls [here and here]. I think if you want this blog to truly reflect who you are, you could tell us what you believe. Are you afraid of loosing readers, or are you trying to project something you are not by omission, or am I totally wrong?

First, a few things…

1. Because blogging does not provide the reader the advantage of hearing voice intonation or reading nonverbals, it’s hard to know in what “spirit” things are said. I’m operating from the assumption that your comment is a genuine interest in what I think on the subject and not a criticism of me or my husband. I hope you will read my response in the same way (except for the little bits of sarcasm that are sure to pop up here and there).
2. Also, you’re right that I didn’t respond to Kathryn’s comments. I assure you my silence is not due to a fear of losing readers (my sporadic and lame posts have already accomplished that) nor am I trying to project something I’m not (I’ve been as real as I know how so far).
3. The reason for my silence is twofold. First, Kathryn and I have gone back and forth on this issue already, both in email and in the comments of other posts on this blog (like this one and this one). As you can see, we don’t get very far. Second, my dad was just here for a little over a week helping us complete some much-needed home repairs and I was busy doing things like freaking out as I watched him climb the world’s shakiest ladder to switch out our bee-infested, paint-peeling shutters and finding time between naps, feedings and screaming children to paint lots of doors…garage doors, the side door, the back doors and the front door. In other words, I’ve been focused on other things.

OK, on with it.

Well, Karen, you said that you’ve visited our church and “have seen some of what your husband believes about women’s roles (or lack of).” Not sure what this means or what you’re referring to. There have been a whole host of rumors about what he supposedly believes about women, most of which are completely untrue, such as, “he doesn’t believe women should serve communion” (which, ironically, was included in a letter he received just today from someone who is leaving our church partly for this reason. How unfortunate that (1) they listened to and believed false information and (2) they either forgot about, overlooked or didn’t notice the women that have served communion on countless occasions in the past). Anyway, where was I. Oh yeah, rumors. My personal favorite was “he doesn’t want [so-and-so] to mow the church lawn because she’s a woman.” Now, I’ve gotta stop right here and tell you how much of a bum rap I’ve got as the pastor’s wife. For obvious reasons, as the pastor’s wife, I’m generally not “in the loop” (read: privy to the gossip). By the time I heard that my husband doesn’t think a woman should mow the lawn, that little morsel of juicy gossip had already made its way to the ears (and mouths) of a handful of otherwise intelligent people. I found it so hilarious I would have liked to pass it on myself. And to think, all that time and energy I wasted mowing our lawn. Bummer.

OK, so I digress.

Anyway, the following are my (abbreviated) views on women in the church:

Basically, of the dozens (if not hundreds) of roles to be filled in the church, I believe there are exactly two (read: two, dos, t-w-o, 2) roles in the church that should be occupied by men only. Those are the role of senior pastor and the role of elder. My view is based mostly on 1 Timothy 2:11-15.

Now, before I get bombarded with all the typical and inevitable arguments as to why I’m wrong in my interpretation of Scripture or why I’m a disgrace to all women everywhere, let me say that I probably won’t engage any (well-meaning, I’m sure) attempts to get me to change my mind. After much thought, conversation, exploration, study, etc., this is where I’ve landed on the subject. I haven’t come to this conclusion lightly and I don’t anticipate being convinced otherwise. (Although I’m always open to dialogue, differing opinions, hearing what others think and more questions.)

I find it very interesting how much heated debate transpires over this subject. I can understand, of course, that women don’t like being told they can’t do something. After all, I’m a woman. But why is it so threatening? I suspect it’s because women very often view the idea through the lens of abuse, heartache and betrayal. Indeed, the women I’ve known who have been vehemently opposed to my viewpoint, are all women who have been deeply wounded by fathers, husbands, brothers or other men who have wrongly hurt them.

I am certainly not in favor of women being abused in any way, by anyone. I do not believe women are in any way inferior or less valuable than men. Women have just as much to contribute in the church, business, politics and the world.

I’ve only scratched the surface, but it is now after 11pm and I have officially turned into a pumpkin. (I knew there was a reason I suddenly found myself staring blankly at the computer screen with absolutely no idea what to write next.) Besides, I’m sure I’ve provided enough raw material for some lively discussion.

And anyway, I’ve gotta go mow the lawn.

Just so you know…I’m posting this not because I want to but because I feel guilty for not posting since August 22.

That is so. stupid.

Anyway, I also feel like crying right at this moment and I have no idea why. I think it’s because there should be much more to life than whatever it is I do in life. Seems like so much is wasted—time, money, resources, etc. This picture wrenches my soul, as does a thousand pictures like it which tell of millions of people right at this very moment who are fighting for the very basic things in life. Meanwhile, I sit here on my nice, cushy bed, typing on my nice, fancy computer, in my nice, comfy home, while my children sleep soundly in their nice, warm beds, after eating more than enough food (and probably throwing half of it away), and whose only worries for tomorrow are whether or not they’ll watch a little TV in the morning and who they’ll play with in the afternoon. We just received our property tax bill in the mail for an astronomical amount of money that goes toward who-really-knows-what exactly, our closets are bulging with clothes because (heaven forbid) we wear the same thing twice in one week. My to-do list mainly consists of tasks that are mundane, robbing me of time and money better spent elsewhere; tasks that will have to be completed again in a day/week/month; tasks that are mostly aimed at simply maintaining stuff I really question whether we need anyway. Tasks like mowing the lawn, washing the car, painting the house, cleaning the playroom, etc. And on and on it goes.

When there are people desperate to find an ant on the ground so they can at least say they’ve eaten something today, it just doesn’t seem right that I live in such abundance, basically becoming nothing more than an expert navel gazer. There is definitely something so very wrong with that.

That Elisabeth Elliot. She can be feisty you know. Yesterday she told me to shut up.

Yep. Elisabeth Elliot. She told me to shut up. And it wasn’t just a polite, “Oh, please do shut up.” What she said was, and I quote, “Simply shut up for a change.”

I didn’t really have a box to put that in. I’m not sure why. But I’m cool with it. And then, randomly, I began to wonder what the worst thing Mother Theresa ever said was. I’d be interested to know. I’m not sure why.

Anyway, back to my point.

I get Elisabeth Elliot’s daily devotional delivered to my inbox every day and more often than not, I’m left with an excellent little morsel to chew on. (Shutting up was yesterday’s morsel.)

For the last several days she’s been talking a lot about holding your tongue, being quiet and things of that nature…basically, stuff I’m not very good at. In today’s devotional she talked about how we’re often faced with tough decisions, but we allow ourselves to get so busy that we’re distracted and consequently, don’t devote ample time to listening to the Spirit and seeking God’s direction.

Frankly, I don’t know what she’s talking about. This never happens to me.

OK. Whatever.

Anyway, she offered a very practical tip to combat the problem. I’m all about practical so I thought I’d pass it on to you in case you are too.

When it is impossible to break away physically to a place of solitude for a day or so in order to think and pray over a hard decision, there is one thing which I think helps—do not speak about the decision to anyone but God for forty-eight hours at least. Just hold it before Him alone. Keep your mouth shut for two days. Pray. Listen. Seek his counsel.

48 hours. Sounds easy, but the more I got to thinking about it, the more I wasn’t sure. 48 hours is a long time in my world…especially to keep my mouth shut about something.

But this would be good for me so I’ve decided to give it a whirl.

OK.

I’ll shut up now.

Regarding my last post…

Thank you to those of you who expressed support in your comments. I appreciate your encouragement and your feedback.

At the same time, I’m of the opinion that there is generally some sort of growth potential in any situation, no matter how uncomfortable it is to walk through. Maybe I don’t know when to let an issue go, but I continue to mull over the things Carolin P. brought up, like, for example, whether or not I’m bitter. I think it’s a good question to ask myself.

I was interested to see that Carolin left another comment in response to my last post (or, in response to all the comments everyone else left on my last post).

Carolin,

I definitely want to hear you. I must admit, some of the things you’ve said have been slightly painful, but nevertheless, I think you’ve raised some valid questions and I’d like to explore them. I hope you’ll be willing to clarify a few things.

First, regarding the post which seemed to get this ball rolling, I wonder if a little more explanation would be helpful. I made the comment about “throwing the bad ones back” in a casual setting and completely in jest. I think it’s safe to say that all who were present took it as such. Granted, it was probably a little “edgy” in nature and it is true that there are very often individuals in the church that are challenging to deal with. However, my comment was not intended as, nor understood as (as far as I can tell), my heartfelt wish that any fellow believer become an unbeliever (or anything similar).

I was unable to ascertain from your comments whether or not you are a pastor’s wife yourself. Just wondering if you are and if so, for how long? The reason I ask is because I’m genuinely intrigued by your following statement:

For goodness sake, let’s all take a more simpler, organic approach to being the wife of a pastor. I get the feeling that, in her attempt to be “not the typical Pastors wife” that Amy, and so many other wives of pastors, have actually in some way built up this PW thing to be bigger than it is…

Obviously I have not met all PW’s, however, I don’t ever recall a PW describe her experience as being simple or no big deal. To the contrary, the PW’s I’ve encountered generally express their surprise at how difficult, challenging, stretching, complex and/or overwhelming the role really is. Therefore, if you are a PW, as I said, I’m genuinely interested in hearing your story, because when you said,

…from reading through this blog, I sense that, in general, she[Amy] feels inadequate and insecure about her job and her performance…which might breed the hint of bitterness and anxiety I detect,

a lot of what you sense is correct. I do feel inadequate. I do feel insecure about my “job” and my “performance.” That’s exactly what I feel and that’s a lot of what this blog is about—me working through it. I certainly don’t want those feelings to breed sin, whether it be bitterness or anything else, but I don’t think the struggle itself is wrong nor is it necessarily something to be avoided.

And regarding your statement:

Yes, being the pastors wife comes with expectations from others…but maybe the bulk of those expectations come from things of the world and the traditions of man (i.e., the title “First Lady” implies a lot).

I would agree that the bulk of the expectations PW’s feel comes from “the world and the traditions of man.” So, assuming that’s true, what should we do with them? I know I speak for many PW’s when I say that those expectations are not easily discarded or disregarded. They are real and often burdensome. For many, it is unbelievably difficult to navigate through them, especially when they are so varied in nature, when they come from so many people, when they are impossible to live up to and/or when they are inextricably tied to one’s own personal life and marriage.

I welcome your thoughts…

Amy

Blogging is a funny thing. I suppose it serves a different purpose for each blogger, but if I had to explain why I blog I think I’d describe it this way: I voluntarily expose my life to the world in the hopes that someone out there might identify with my experience and gain some sort of personal value from it.

Well, exposing one’s life often comes at a cost. For bloggers, one of those costs can be the feedback from others which isn’t always easy to hear. Case in point:

Carolin P. wrote the following comment in response to this post:

Unlike the others, I think that is a terrible thing to say.

Is it too much to maybe read something spiritually uplifting here once in a while? Pray for a little more Godly self-esteem so you can stop using your lack thereof as an excuse to spew misery.

Reading that comment has launched me into some serious soul-searching the last several days.

Now, I should start out by saying that I’m not a huge fan of Carolin’s delivery. I wasn’t exactly feelin’ the love. I mean, I’m always open to a gentle rebuke. It was definitely a rebuke. But gentle? Not so much.

Anyway, I initially felt stung and out of my hurt, came up with about a dozen not-so-gentle things I’d really like to say to her in response. But of course, that’s not the best idea (although it would feel pretty good).

But once I worked through all of that, I decided this would be a good opportunity to take a good look at The State of Me.

So, I asked my husband if he thought there was any merit to what she said. He said he thinks I can come across as a little bitter at times. OK. I can see that. I can especially see how that would be true when the reader is unable to see my nonverbals, can’t hear my intonation and/or doesn’t know me personally. Blogging is really unidimensional in that way. (Holy smokes, I just surprised myself with that $10 word. I don’t think I’ve ever used that word before in my life and it just popped right into my head. How about that.) But I’d like to add that how I come across is not the crux of the issue. The question is not “Do I come across as bitter?” but “Am I bitter?” Hmmmm. I’d better ponder that.

Anyway, I couldn’t talk about it with my husband extensively because I was starting to feel a little defensive. And when I get defensive, it generally isn’t pretty. So, that’s as far as we got.

And I’ve asked God if there’s any merit to Carolin’s comment too. This is one of those times I really wish God would just shoot me an email (Like, “Dear Amy, yes she’s right. Repent.” or “Dear Amy, she’s so wrong and you are so very, very right.”), but I’ve got the Bible and since that’s His Word, it’s just as good as an email. (It’d still be cool to get an email from God once though….especially if in it, He tells me I’m right.)

Anyway, after all the hashing and rehashing and thinking and pondering, the bottom line is this: Do I reflect Christ?

I don’t know the answer exactly, but I’m pretty sure it’s partly yes and partly no. I think there are times when I do and I’m quite certain there are times when I don’t. It’s those times when I don’t that need sorting out.

So back to her comment. Objectively, I think there was some exaggeration on her part. For example, if she’s read my blog for an extended period of time, I don’t think she would say I’ve never written anything “spiritually uplifting.” And I can see how it seems I have zero self-esteem, but I know that’s not the truth either. And about “spew[ing] misery.” Perhaps I do that and I don’t see it (as my husband suggested), but I do think it was a little overstated. I certainly don’t feel miserable, although I do admit, life as a Pastor’s Wife feels very hard at times.

I am often sarcastic and pessimistic and generally a bit intense in my self-analysis. So, I have to determine if each of those things is a personality trait or a sinful attitude (or something else). If they’re part of who I am, I have to determine if I sin in my handling of them. I find it’s a tricky balance to maintain…that is, being true to myself and true to God’s truth at the same time. The lines get a little (OK a lot) blurred for me there.

But take heart. I’ll figure it out someday. It may not be on this side of heaven, but someday, I will. figure. it out.

What a tragedy of astronomical proportions. I’ve wrestled with the news all week and I’ve tried to wrap my brain around it—I just don’t think that’s possible. As I struggle to make sense of it, one phrase keeps crossing my mind: But by the grace of God go I.

In other words, as horrible and impossible as murdering my husband seems, my biggest and most dangerous mistake would be to believe I am not capable of doing it myself. Pride comes before the fall, Scripture says, and it’s so easy to sit back, watch the news and assure myself that I am so far beyond that, so above it, so glad I never have to worry about living in such an unspeakably horrible nightmare. I would NEVER do that. Hmmm. I bet Peter never would have believed he’d deny knowing Christ. I bet David never would have thought he’d have an adulterous affair. And I bet he never would have thought he’d also be guilty of murder.

Mary Winkler didn’t wake up the other day thinking, “You know, today I’m going to kill my husband.” We look at the final act of murder and think, “How can it be?” when in reality, pulling the trigger was only the last step of many that led her to that point. It’s not my job to judge or assume nor is it my intention to answer all the hows and whys of the situation. What she did was horribly wrong. There is no justification. But thank God he offers redemption to her…just like He does to me.

One of the best things I can do is let it be an opportunity to examine my own life and ask some hard questions:

1. Are there any seeds of thought that, if allowed to grow and mature, would lead to acts of grievous sin? What are those seeds and where might they lead?
2. Is there at least one person in my life who loves me enough to address the matters of my heart and to point out those things that need changing? Someone who holds me accountable and does not let me get away with even the most seemingly insignificant act of sin?
3. Am I willing and open to change and to be changed? Do I take the necessary steps to do so?

The fact is, I am not immune from the very situation Mary Winkler finds herself in today. The question is, what am I doing to avoid it?

I recently confessed to being in debt. You may remember. (If you don’t, or if you’ve only happened upon this blog recently, you can catch up here.) I started a second blog called The Great Debt Payoff to chronicle our journey to pay it off, as the name so obviously suggests. (Go ahead. Call me brilliant.)

Well, the other blog is cramping my style and now I’ve changed my mind about it—I think I’m gonna pull the plug. (This is not surprising since I change my mind like I change my underwear.)

Basically, I can hardly keep up with my first blog (i.e. the one you are reading now), so why in tar nation did I think I was going to be able to keep up with 2 blogs. Not to mention the fact that I will be giving birth to a third child in a little less than 2 months (if everything goes according to plan) and I’m beginning to suspect that a newborn (plus two kids, plus another that I take care of 20+ hours a week…all under the age of 6) does not mix very well with 1 blog, let alone 2. At least not in my case. Now, if I was blessed with the ability to write a post as quick as I’m able to down 8 Fudge Striped cookies, well, then, 2 blogs might not be such a problem. But, the fact is, I’m so much more of a cookie type, not a posting type, so 1 blog is probably about all I can handle. But I digress.

So as I said, since I’ve been particularly lame at posting to The Great Debt Payoff, I think I’m gonna kill it. I initially started that blog because it didn’t seem like the topic of paying off debt was particularly related to being a pastor’s wife. And now I’ve changed my mind about that too. Because why? BECAUSE I AM A PASTOR’S WIFE AND WE ARE IN DEBT. In other words, they go together because THIS IS MY LIFE. And this is my blog so I can write about whatever I want. That’s the beauty of it being my blog.

Besides, what started out as just a totally financial approach to working ourselves out of debt, has now become something much more huge.

In a nutshell, our lives have completely changed in the last month.

No, someone did not die and we did not inherit $284,945. No, we were not one of the 6 in Nebraska who recently won the lottery. No, our church did not suddenly decide to double my husband’s salary. No, we did not sell one of the children. And no, I did not kill my husband in order to get his life insurance policy. No. No. No.

Two things have changed: I’ve got a plan and another man.

The new plan, which basically translates into a budget, is the suggestion of the other man, Dave Ramsey. Dave Ramsey is affectionately referred to as DR around here and I am convinced every American should know him as well. He wrote a great book, The Total Money Makeover, which I read in one sitting and I would highly, highly, HIGHLY recommend. (In fact, as soon as we’re out of debt, I think I’ll buy a copy for everyone I know.)

I’m also TOTALLY ADDICTED to his radio show, The Dave Ramsey Show. It’s not broadcast in our area but I have listened to every single archive online.

(I know this is the hugest, most shameless plug ever and I promise the guy is not paying me to say it. The whole thing totally trips me out. It’s all about delayed gratification, rice and beans, beans and rice and saying no to debt. Simple concept but hard to achieve.)

DR is totally about getting out of debt. The guy does not own a credit card. People call into his show every day with all kinds of financial woes, some small, some gargantuan. There are also those who call in to scream “WE ARE DEBT FREE” (after having worked themselves out of it, one dollar at a time). Yes, they scream it and DR plays this clip from Braveheart where Mel Gibson yells, “FREEDOM!!!!!!!” at the top of his lungs and it may sound extraordinarily cheesy, but I tell you, it is so STINKING INSPIRING. In fact, a family—husband, wife, three kids—called in just today, to scream “WE. ARE. DEBT. FREEEEEEEEE!!!!!” and I cried. Yes, I did. I CRIED. Tears and everything.

The thing that totally sold me on DR was the last chapter of his book (a NY Times bestseller, by the way). In it he talks about Proverbs 22:7 and how “the borrower is slave to the lender.”

I am so done with being a slave.

I got the following email in response to my post, Looking For a Way Out:

Hi I found your blog be accident and read about how you wanting to convert your friend Jane to Christianity and ’save’ her. I was really appalled that you didn’t respect her religion or lack their off and believe that because she has a different religion, she wont go to haven. Jesus accepted different religions (Jews or not) and taught that whets important is weather your a good person or not. Do you really think that God would exclude good people, who are full of grace. If you do, then i find that very sad, and I will pray for you. Do you really want to be in a Heaven where everyone is the same?

I thought the person who wrote me the email brought up some good issues—issues a lot of people wrestle with. So, I thought I’d post my response…

Dear [name withheld],

Thanks for your email regarding my recent post on With Purpose. I appreciate your honesty and openness.

In response, I first feel obligated to clarify that I cannot “save” anyone—that’s totally God’s thing. But God can choose to use me in the process. As an analogy, if there is to be a violin concert, what good would it be to go to the concert hall and simply watch a violin sitting on the stage by itself? The violin cannot produce music on its own just like I can’t “save” my friend on my own. However, if a great violin master picks up the violin and plays it, he can communicate his music through the violin. In other words, just as the great musician can use the violin to communicate beautiful music, God may choose to use me to communicate His love for my friend. I just want to be available to be used.

Secondly, I absolutely DO respect the religion my friend chooses to follow. But I still believe it’s wrong. Does that make me an ogre? I don’t think so. We all have differing beliefs about all sorts of things all the time. Just because we don’t believe the same thing doesn’t mean we necessarily are acting disrespectfully toward each other. I offer another (admittedly simple) analogy to explain my point…

I know a fellow parent who, when their child gets hurt, offers a sweet treat to eat. The treat is meant to comfort the child and get them to stop crying. I respect this person a lot and I respect the fact that they can parent any way they choose. But personally, I think using food as a form of comfort is wrong. It’s not sin, of course, but I do believe it doesn’t benefit their child in the long run. (How many times have we heard an adult talk about how they were always given food for comfort as a child and now they cannot break the cycle and are suffering either emotional [like not knowing how to deal effectively with their pain] or physical [like obesity] consequences as a result?) I can communicate WHY I think using food to comfort their child is wrong without being disrespectful. Do I hope they listen to my arguments and stop using food for comfort? Sure. Why? Because I think it’ll benefit the child in the long run. But if they choose to continue using food for comfort, that’s their choice as the parent. I certainly wouldn’t stop being their friend if they don’t do things the way I believe is right.

In the same way, I believe my friend’s religion is wrong (and I know there are plenty of people who believe my religion is wrong). I can respectfully express why I think so and I can hope she changes her mind. Why would I do that? Because I think she will benefit in the long run. But if she chooses not to believe what I believe, will I stop being her friend? Absolutely not. Will I relentlessly badger her forever? No. Will I pray that she changes her mind. Sure.

I’m not exactly sure what you meant when you said, “Jesus accepted different religions (Jews or not)…”

When he was on earth, Jesus made it quite clear He was the Messiah the Jews had been waiting for. He was not so concerned about religious backgrounds as much as He was that individuals recognize and follow Him.

You are absolutely right when you say that Jesus emphasized the importance of being a good person. However, this was not his primary message. His primary message was that He is the Messiah, God’s only Son, sent to die for our sins so that “whoever believes in Him will not die but will live eternally” (John 3:16, emphasis mine). Our good deeds simply flow out of our love for Him; they don’t determine whether or not He loves us nor if He will let us into heaven.

The bottom line is, NONE of us are really “good” by ourselves—not you, not me, not anyone. Sure, we all do good things, but we also all do bad things. So how do we know what’s good enough to get us into heaven? And how do we know what’s bad enough to keep us out? Where’s the line?

Romans 3:10 (and following) says,

“…’No one is good—not even one…’”

And verse 12,

“‘All have turned away from God; all have gone wrong. No one does good, not even one…’”

And verse 20,

“For no one can ever be made right in God’s sight by doing what his law commands…”

And verses 21 to 23,

“But now God has shown us a different way of being right in his sight—not by obeying the law but by the way promised in the Scriptures long ago. We are made right in God’s sight when we trust in Jesus Christ to take away our sins. And we all can be saved in this same way, no matter who we are or what we have done. For all have sinned; all fall short of God’s glorious standard…” (New Living Translation, emphasis mine)

Seems pretty clear to me that being “good” isn’t what ensures an eternal reward. If that were the case, we’d all be doomed from the get-go according to the verses above. Thank God He’s made a way for us that’s not dependent on how we behave or on some ambiguous scale weighing our good deeds against our bad.

To your last question, “Do you really want to be in a Heaven where everyone is the same?” I say yes and no. Everyone in heaven will have one thing in common. That is, we will all be there because we recognized God’s grace when He saved us through Jesus Christ’s death and resurrection. Other than that, there will be all kinds of people from different “tribes, nations and tongues.” In my mind, it’s the perfect scenario–we’ll all be totally equal in God’s (and each other’s) eyes and at the same time, we’ll be genuinely able to celebrate and enjoy our differences.

If heaven were a place where everyone got in based on what and how many good deeds they performed on earth, wouldn’t we be constantly comparing ourselves to each other? We’d either be one of the “best do-gooders” who entered heaven with flying colors, one of the “worst do-gooders” who entered heaven by the skin of our teeth or some “medium do-gooder” falling somewhere in between. And who decides what category we fall in? God? Well then, does He give preferential treatment to the “best do-gooders”? And what if I’m a “worst do-gooder” and I don’t agree with His judgment? Do I just have to suck it up and live with less-than equal treatment for all of eternity? Will I really be happy then? Doesn’t sound like heaven to me. In fact, unless I’m missing something, it just sounds like a repeat of life here on earth.

It’s 3:13 am. I’m a little mad about that. Personally, I don’t think God should be allowed to wake me up at this forsaken hour. It kinda cuts into my sleeping time.

Nevertheless, here I sit—all cloistered in my closet, just me and my computer, so as not to disturb the rest of the world doing what THE REST OF THE WORLD DOES AT THIS TIME OF NIGHT.

But, OK, so I’ll go with it. I’m flexible.

Last night I started a Life Transformation Group (a.k.a. LTG, developed by Neil Cole and appropriate materials can be found here toward the bottom of the page) with some very motivated and high-quality young women from church. Neither of them have been in an LTG before, so I gave ‘em the gist.

An LTG is made up of three parts. First, you read Scripture. Second, you go through a list of accountability questions. Third, you pray for people you know who are not yet Christians. Simple enough. I like it.

But I awoke tonight because I realized that Part 3 (i.e. praying for people you know who are not yet Christians) presents a problem.

I’ve got a few people on my list to pray for—one I’ll call Jane (to protect the innocent, of course). I like her, I really do…and it would be very cool to see her in heaven. (And it would be even cooler if her dog could be there too because I love her dog, especially since she’s one of the dogs I know who provides me with all the benefits of dog ownership without any of the headaches—more explanation here. But that’s just a side note.)

So, as I was saying, Jane is on my list of people to pray for. But I had a revelation. I don’t think simply praying for her counts. (And I’m pretty sure this is why God woke me up.) Not only do I have to pray for her, but I also have to be willing to let God use me in the process. For example, I might have to actually speak words to her about how to become a Christian…or something…as God leads of course.

I don’t like this.

I’d prefer to just pray for her…and let God do all the challenging stuff. Not that He’s asking, but if He were, this is how I think it should go:

“Dear God,

As you know, I’d really like Jane to get saved. Now. If you could just wake her up in the middle of the night one night by sending an angel to her house, that would be great. I’m kinda thinking along the lines of how you did that with Mary—you know, when the angel went to her and told her she was going to give birth to Jesus. That was cool—quick, to-the-point and totally effective.

Just tell her that she needs you and that she should really consider committing her life to you. A little preview of how heaven is would be good to throw in. She especially likes nice weather, so if you could highlight that, I’m sure she’d be totally into the whole idea for sure.

I’m not sure what varieties of angels you’ve got up there, but as you know, Jane hasn’t been feeling well lately. So if you could send an angel that is particularly good at healing, that would be a huge bonus. I mean, if an angel showed up, together with a totally irresistible preview of heaven PLUS she was healed of her current ailment, it would totally bolster your case.

So, anyway, that’s my deal.

Oh yeah, I forgot to mention (but I guess you might already know) that she’s hoping to go away on a trip soon, so if you could arrange this ASAP, I’d really appreciate it. I would hate for her to leave before getting this all straightened out.

Let me know how it goes.

Thanks!

Love,

Amy

P.S. I totally owe you one.

I think it’s a good prayer—not too wishy-washy, yet not too pushy either. Don’t you think?

So then, Question to Self: How many times in the Bible does God do something like this without using a human being as His instrument in the process?

Answer: Hardly ever.

Hmmmm.

OK.

Right.

So naturally, Next Question to Self: What additional mental gymnastics and rationalization techniques can I employ to get myself off the hook in this situation?