Tag Archives: courage

Sermon: Meekness

My family and I are in the middle of a move – as in, this time last week we were scrambling to find boxes holding church-appropriate clothes. My daughter showed up in a tank top and rainbow shorts, so we only partially succeeded. As of Tuesday morning when it was time to leave for preaching team, we had one house key and one garage opener. I asked my husband for the key – he was standing right in front of me with it – and he said, “Will you take the garage opener? I’ll need the key when I come back this afternoon.” That would’ve been fine if the garage opener had worked. As fate would have it, he had driven away by the time I discovered the door wouldn’t shut, with our open garage housing literally all our things. And already I was running late because I couldn’t find anything I needed. I did what any reasonable spouse would do and laid into him over text before driving to preaching team, seething.

“Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth.”

Since “meek” is a word used to describe Christ, it pretty clearly doesn’t mean “weak” or “spineless” or “impotent” because that is not our God. In fact, the Greek word is praus, a military term denoting horses trained for battle. Without robbing them of their strength or power – since these qualities are vital in warfare – trainers prepared them to unflinchingly face weaponry, torches, and exploding cannons. They were taught to use their strength in response to their rider. They controlled their power. They were called praus, meek.

These horses exhibited a balance between aggression and passivity: they used their full power at the rider’s command. They submitted their strength. They didn’t get hot under the collar or act based on what they saw. They employed the extent of their might at the will of the one in control. They were secure in their role in relation to the rider; they were meek.

One way to look at biblical meekness is that it is power under control. It characterizes those of might, strength, and influence. So as citizens of the wealthiest country in the history of humanity, meekness is a relevant topic for everyone in the room.

Jesus responds to the Father the same way throughout the Gospels. Jesus – who turns over tables the Temple, constantly befuddles church authorities, heals every kind of physical and spiritual ailment, and speaks to crowds of thousands – obviously lacks no power. But in John 5:19, Jesus makes clear how he uses it: “The Son can do nothing by himself. He does only what he sees the Father doing. Whatever the Father does, the Son also does.” And another example: his heart-wrenching prayer prior to his betrayal and consequent death sentence: “If it is possible, let this cup of suffering be taken from me. Yet I want your will to be done, not mine” (Matthew 26:39). He controls his power, using it at the will of the Father. He doesn’t defend himself or get angry during his supremely unfair trial. As he awaits his punishment from the high priest and Pontius Pilate, he is pelted with insult after insult – from a mob, no less. He’s accused of what he hasn’t done, and misunderstood for what he has. But he remains silent, feeling no need to defend himself because he trusts the Father. He is gentle; he refuses to retaliate because he is meek. His power is under control. That takes a kind of courage unfamiliar to most of us.

This is not natural human behavior. Jesus’s course of action runs in the opposite direction of contemporary American culture. Corporate culture, in particular, writes us off as “weak” if we behave submissively, gently, and preferentially to others. As a result, most of us have learned that you really can get ahead by controlling, manipulating and scheming your way to the top. It seems that it’s not the meek inheriting the earth; it’s the aggressive, it’s those attempting to take advantage of other people before they can do the same us. And this is all reinforced by a zeitgeist that constantly asks us, “Have you received what you earned? Have you achieved enough? Are you enough?” It is exhausting.

I think Jesus’ heart is breaking for us when he says, as we sing every Sunday, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest…Let me teach you, because I am meek and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls” (Matthew 11:28-30). We will find rest in meekness, in trusting our strength to God, in finding our security not in our own power but in our identity as his so deeply loved children that we’ve been promised we’ll inherit the earth.

And the secret is the meek are already inheriting the earth. The ones who trust God’s goodness enjoy every gift he sends, rather than trying to leverage it for something always beyond reach. The ones who use their power at the command of their God are guaranteed victory, rather than having to scheme and hustle for it. The ones who wait for God to act on their behalf can rest in his wisdom and his sloshing-over-the-sides-of-the-bucket love, rather than taking matters into their own hands.

And so, after showing up at preaching team last Tuesday morning infuriated at my husband for a broken garage opener – sitting there self-righteously miserable in my anger – I was administered a discussion about how we’re secure in God and are therefore released to be meek. Using my strength to push against my husband wasn’t necessary or even helpful. Relinquishing it meant being able to trust that God’s plan of me preaching today couldn’t be foiled by a garage door that wouldn’t shut. I decided, after two hours’ worth meekness talk that it was the best route. Instead of spouting off at each other all day, when I backed off and chose not to keep defending myself and trying to exert my rights, my husband and I were back to being a team.

Meekness requires a posture of peaceful obedience coupled with ultimate trust in God’s wisdom and strength. In your everyday routines, what causes you to react with quick anger? Where do you feel inferior? Where do you feel misunderstood? Where do you feel a need to prove yourself or justify your actions? Where, ultimately, do you find your peace? These answers might show you where there’s work to be done toward increased meekness.

It’s so hard to choose this path, but so worth it. A weight is finally lifted, and we are set free. Our meekness comes from from the Holy Spirit, the very essence of God that God promises to all who come to Jesus. So, Mission Chattanooga, come to Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, our love, our worth and value, our holiness…and our meekness. Come to Jesus! Amen.

Advertisements

Leave a comment

Filed under Jesus Loves Me

Adventure.

One day as Jesus was walking along the shore of the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers – Simon, also called Peter, and Andrew – throwing a net into the water, for they fished for a living. Jesus called out to them, “Come, follow me, and I will show you how to fish for people!” And they left their nets at once and followed him (Matthew 4:20, NLT).

I wish I had that kind of pull with my toddler. “Come, follow me, and I will show you how to thoroughly clean up your own messes.” And she would leave Elsa’s ice castle at once and follow me.

Ahh, a mama can dream.

But in fact, when I invite her away from what she’s invested in to do something different, she’s usually dubious. “I just want five minutes longer,” she says. (She comes by negotiation honestly. I’ve seen my man haggle over prices at Walmart.)

She also says a lot of, “Why?” No surprise there; she’s three. And human. “Make it worth my while” is a refrain we’re probably all familiar with, regardless of age. Why should we drop what we love for something we’re not sure about?

It’s hard to get too frustrated with her in situations like this. (Actually, no, it’s not. Because TODDLERS, MAN.) I do exactly the same thing when God asks me to do something I’m unsure about. It’s been happening since last July. He’s asking me to take what feels like a running leap from one side of the Grand Canyon to the other and just trust that he’ll be there.

adventures-by-disney-north-america-arizona-and-utah-hero-07-grand-canyon-sunset

I’m all like, “I just want five minutes longer.”

But look at the model of Peter and Andrew. They hear the voice and Christ and, boom! In the next sentence, they’re dropping their nets “at once” to follow him. No hesitation, no questions, no “Did he say what I think he said?” is in the text.

They didn’t negotiate with him. “We’ll leave if you’ll prove we’re going to be successful.” “We’ll leave if you promise it won’t cost our safety.” “We’ll leave if you pay our wages to our families while we’re away.” “We’ll leave if you let us secure our boat in the marina first [or whatever is the culturally appropriate version of a marina].”

They didn’t try to take the lead. “Okay, but let us show you the best spots.”

They didn’t try to get Jesus to join them instead. “Hey, if you want to hang, you’re welcome out here on the boat. We’ve got plenty to eat.”

Without any assurance from Jesus of anything, they let the Holy Spirit whisper in their hearts that he wasn’t fooling around, that he meant business, and that he wanted them in on it if they could be bothered to join. And they dropped the nets and went after the Stranger.

I bet they didn’t look back.

Will I?

For that is what God is like. He is our God forever and ever, and he will guide us until we die (Psalm 48:14, NLT).

Leave a comment

Filed under Jesus Loves Me

What devotion looks like.

Having grown up in church, I’m sometimes guilty of parroting words and expressions I haven’t thought through. “Surrender to Jesus,” and “Put God first,” are excellent examples. I know they’re true, I just don’t know what they look like in practice. But true to God’s nature, when you ask for understanding, you get it (see Luke 8:10).

My most recent “Aha!” came with the word “devotion,” which has largely come to mean “time spent reading the Bible and praying,” an unfortunate reduction of a strong term originally derived from “to consecrate,” or “to make sacred.” What does “making oneself sacred” mean exactly? We’re instructed in Titus 2:12 to do just that in order to live in an evil world, so how do we do it? I found a simple, beautiful picture of devotion in Mark 16, a picture that’s worth hanging onto.

On Easter Sunday, Mary Magdalene, Mary the mother of Jesus, and Salome (the disciple, not the scary one) famously went to Jesus’s tomb to anoint and care for his body. On the way, they discuss a problem: an enormous stone bars them from Jesus. They even ask each other as they walk, “Who will roll away the stone for us at the entrance to the tomb?” (Mark 16:3, NLT).

Get this: three women – Jesus’s mother, at least, would be in her forties by now; I’m not sure about the others – encumbered with spices and oils, are headed out to anoint a corpse blocked by a huge stone.

empty-tomb

They know there’s an obstacle. They know they’re physically incapable of the task they set out to accomplish. In case we’re missing it, verse 4 epithetically points out, the stone “was very large.” But nothing was going to keep them from their Lord. They physically can’t do what they’ve set out to do and they know it, but they packed up their oils and spices and hit the road anyway. And their devotion to Jesus affords them the greatest blessing in all of history: they’re the first to witness the fact that he rose from the dead. When they make it to the tomb, the stone is already off to the side. An angel is waiting for them and says, “He’s alive! Here’s proof!”

Devotion results when nothing keeps you from loving Jesus. It doesn’t matter to you if showing your love for him sometimes seems useless or even laughable. It doesn’t matter to you when obstacles are in your way. It doesn’t matter to you if it’s just you and a couple other people who seem as weak or broken as you are, you’ll do whatever it takes to get to him. Devotion doesn’t care about drawbacks and impediments. Devotion says, “I’m on my way, and I’m trusting you to move the stone when I get there.” Devotion remembers that nothing is impossible with God (Luke 1:37).

The faith these three women showed is what gets us through our evil-occupied world (Titus 2:12). When matched with enormous stones that can keep us from Christ – stones like addiction and other sinful patterns, dubious track records, pain you’ve caused, pain you’ve experienced, or any other thing that worries you or brings you shame – devotion says, “I’m coming anyway, Lord.” That’s the kind of devotion I want.

Leave a comment

Filed under Jesus Loves Me

I Quit Forever.

I made a New Summer’s Resolution. I am quitting all diets forever, and I mean forever.

This isn’t a new idea. “It’s not a diet; it’s a lifestyle” has become cliché in our age of dietry. So I want to be clear: when I say I am quitting all diets forever, I don’t mean I’m adopting a certain diet as my new way of life. I am not a new Paleo convert. I literally mean I am quitting. All diets. Forever.

It occurred to me one day that I have spent a ton of time being afraid of and simultaneously drawn to a few “bad” foods; namely, cookies, sweet tea, and French fries. These are my heroin, my security blankets, and my antidepressants (that seriously don’t work). But these foods have no inherent value; they are not “bad.” They are inanimate, valueless. My method of consumption is what determines the wisdom of eating them.

Well, here’s the thing: I don’t want my daughter to end up waging the same war I have for 30½ years. I want to win it and end it, perhaps for us both at once. I’d rather my daughter know that some foods are everyday, all-you can eat foods; some foods are treats; and some foods are just for parties. I want her to see food as sustenance and occasionally a social enhancement and definitely a gift from God (as evidenced by the existence of taste buds, according to my pastor). What food is not is an emotional anesthetic or a substitute for affection. I want her to know that fruits and vegetables have superpowers, and that’s why God made them so bright and colorful. I want her to know that singing and dancing and laughing and playing all make for better journeys than Oreos do.

FullSizeRender

I don’t want her to be scared of food. I definitely don’t want her to be scared of being fat.

So I’m not quitting health. I’m actually kind of finding it, now that I’m exiting the diet funhouse with all its mirrors that distort and lie and frighten. It’s a hard place to leave, because as restrictive and hateful as diets can be, they’re also seductive. They tell you sexiness and happiness and all your dreams-come-true are in following their simple regime.

It’s a lie.

Instead, we walk together, my daughter and I. We have Bath-Time Dance Parties. We snack on grapes and avocados when we’re hungry. We point to different parts of our bodies and say, “Anna has pretty arms; Mama has pretty arms! Anna has pretty feet; Mama has pretty feet!” And we remind each other that strong is more important than gorgeous, but gorgeous is a given.

A really beautiful memoir I read earlier this year included the line, “Contentment doesn’t double by the serving.” Very true: more potato chips have never led me to more joy. But I’ve learned that you don’t have to diet to eat fewer potato chips. You can just choose an alternative ending. Sure, you’ve always eaten the whole bag. See what happens if you don’t this time. I’ve been practicing. The skill sharpens with repeated success. And it definitely keeps proving the point that more food never equals more contentment.

When I get to the end of my life, my daughter with me in my room, I sure hope she doesn’t say, “Mom, you taught me how to diet.” I hope she says, “Mom, you had soul. You knew how to fight and win. You knew how to dance.” If that’s the story I want to tell, I’d better stop the dieting, choose something greater than the cookies, and just for the love of God get started dancing like she does:

IMG_2431

Leave a comment

Filed under Addiction Recovery, Broken Beauty, It's a Girl!

Got Wine?

Is there anything more infuriating than job hunting? During my recent stint, I found myself inwardly screaming, “Serenity now!” à la Jerry Stiller an unfortunate amount of times each day. You first have to find something you’re qualified for – but not too qualified for – that you can imagine yourself doing for more hours than you spend with your family through the week. Then, when you find a match approaching that, you have to craft a cover letter in which you present yourself as strong and desirable but not arrogant, recognizing all the while that you might have just wasted hours of your life because the employer might not grant you an interview or even acknowledge your existence.

tumblr_mk31ekZb5N1s99m4bo2_1280

Humbling.

After several weeks of applying and stressing and generally whirling like a dervish, I was invited to interview at a nearby high school. The minute I left the office, I knew I had the job. They even called a day earlier than promised to offer it. Then came the proverbial fork in the road.

Just a few days earlier, I had told my man that my perfect job would be writing, teaching, and counseling. So while this job offer at the high school would easily pay the bills, it wouldn’t let me go confidently in the direction of my God-given dreams, to borrow from Thoreau. More importantly, my pastor always says, “When you have to make a decision, look for Jesus and run hard that way.” I know Jesus is at that high school, but I didn’t have the sense he was calling me to join him there. And yet, turning the offer down meant passing on a tantalizing amount of comfort and safety. I prayed hard and felt like the answer was no, so I called and thanked them for the opportunity but declined.

As soon as I obeyed my Lord, the heavens opened. The day after I called HR with my answer, a local university asked me to teach writing for them this fall. The day after that, my own school hired me in its work-study program. So I turned down the comfortable option, but then Jesus gave me exact job I wanted: I’ll be teaching, writing, and studying to be a counselor this fall.

I’m not the first one to be scared because Jesus asked me to do something that, on first blush at least, made no sense. Think about those servants at the wedding at Cana in John 2. Jesus asked them to dip water out of a jar and take it to the master, knowing they could lose their jobs or lives if they displeased the boss. Imagine how terrifying that would’ve been, taking water to the master, who was expecting wine. But Jesus 1) does not always ask us to do the thing that makes sense, and 2) never lets us down. As it turned out, the master of the wedding evaluated the water-turned-wine as the very best from the whole event. Likewise, Jesus gave me the very best situation for this coming fall, the “perfect job” I described days before Jesus made it happen.

Another benefit of obedience is that it cleanses you of pride. It’s impossible to boast about a gift someone else gives you. Since it results solely from the grace of the giver, you know it had nothing to do with you. Maybe that’s the reason that Jesus asked the servants to take water from the thirty-gallon jars meant for ceremonial washing (John 2:6). Obeying him cleanses our hearts.

If you do obey the Lord, you can expect peace, knowing you did what you were asked by Someone who never abandons you. Intimacy with God is also cultivated when you know you heard from him and showed your devotion by changing your course. But another incredible result of obedience is a deluge of blessings (Deuteronomy 28:1, 2; Luke 11:28; John 10:10b). Since the servants chose to obey, they got to witness the first miracle of Jesus. Not only that, but their obedience blessed everyone around them: all the invitees enjoyed the “best wine yet.” And in that moment those servants must have felt freedom too from their fear and unbelief.

So there’s only one question left: how do we obey? Mary says it best, “Do whatever he tells you” (John 2:5). Blessedly, it’s not always as frightening as turning down a job. Sometimes it’s paying tithe, exercising self-control, speaking gently when you’re angry, or choosing to spend some time with him instead of letting your Bible gather dust. Regardless of what he asks, you can trust him. He’s good, he’ll dump blessings on you like water from a thirty-gallon jar, and he will never abandon you (Matthew 28:20). Just do whatever he tells you. You’ll end up with a full glass of the best wine ever.

wine-glass

Leave a comment

Filed under Jesus Loves Me

Patterns.

p10605762

In the first grade, I failed at patterns. The worksheet asked us to color a series of shapes in a red-blue pattern, but that bored me. Instead I colored mine teal-violet-violet-teal-violet-violet – a pattern, to be sure, but the wrong one. My teacher not only gave me an F for the assignment but also refused to let me leave during bathroom break. The anger on my mom’s face when I told her about it that afternoon might have been amusing had it not been so terrifying.

Still, it is of vital importance that we get our patterns right. Like a quilt is composed of its patterns, we humans are composed of patterns too. A repeated choice to numb pain with alcohol creates an alcoholic. A repeated choice to overeat in loneliness creates a food addict. A repeated choice to light up creates a smoker. The patterns make the person.

12610085828602794515ee59yKc

Not only that, but our patterns end up manifesting themselves in our children too. They do what we do. That scares me a little; I know how often I fall short of perfection. However, blessedly, this is a biblical concept, which means there’s hope attached. In 2 Timothy 1:5, Paul thanks God for Timothy’s mom and grandma, who passed down their faith, establishing a pattern of Godliness for Timothy. They were examples to him of how to live wisely, and they also raised him in truth and love. We can do the same, constructing the same type of patterns within ourselves and our children. If our children can be persuaded to scream when angry because that’s how they see it done, they can also learn to be patient when angry if it happens around them. Paul says that’s what teaching is for in the first place – building patterns for living. In verse 13, he tells Timothy to “keep the pattern of sound teaching with faith and love in Christ” (NLT, emphasis added). We’ve got to show our children how to live according to Godly patterns.

Some transparency: in my story, what has most often kept me from the patterns Jesus wants is a belief that I have no self-discipline, as in, “I’d eat better, but I just can’t seem to stop.” That often leads to a second, more detrimental belief: “It’s just who I am.” But that’s not Godly. First Timothy 1:7 says, “The Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love, and self-discipline.” It’s not a quality you have or don’t; it’s part of the Spirit given to you by God. If you have him, you have self-discipline. Self-discipline for the Christian is like quad muscles: you’ve got them already, but you have to exercise them if you want them to be strong. You can get your patterns sorted out. You can stop yelling when you’re angry. You can find another way to deal with boredom. You can end any bad habit or any destructive pattern. Jesus gave his life to secure freedom for everyone (1 Timothy 2:6), which means you’re in.

568w

In addition, I’ve spent a lot of time believing that “one piece of chocolate won’t hurt.” It seems many of us fall prey to this: “one cigarette won’t hurt,” “one porn film won’t hurt,” “one beer won’t hurt.” And maybe it won’t (although these statements have not been evaluated by the FDA), but the pattern you’re setting up will. The pattern of all that chocolate, all those cigarettes, all those hours of porn, all those beers, all those moments spent killing time when you could be talking to Jesus…those will eventually hurt. In fact, they’ll eventually destroy.

Know what I’ve found to be even harder? When you know all that, and you even keep trying to change your patterns, but your efforts produce nothing. Simon Peter, the day he met Jesus on the lake, had been trying all night to catch fish, and nothing had worked. Every fisherman’s technique he knew failed him. Then, Jesus said, “Try one more time. Row out to the deep water and give it one more go.” Simon says, “I’ve already done that. But hey, if you say so.” He rows out and, boom! More fish than he and his partner can lug into the boat. (The story is found in Luke 5.) That’s the power of obedience: it can change your patterns. You’re trying, you’ve seen yourself fail repeatedly, and Jesus says, “Just one more time.” When you respond, “Okay, if you say so,” it will work. It will. It still may not be a straight shot from sickness to health, but you’re headed in the right direction. Just take his advice; he’s Jesus, so he’s right.

http-www-michelemademe-com201210hexagon-quilt-top-check-htmlm1

It probably goes without saying that you won’t ever get your patterns right all by yourself. It’s not because you’re weak. It’s not because you’re a failure. It’s because you’re human, a condition that’s not going away. But God has “unlimited resources” (Ephesians 3:16) to help you follow a different pattern.

And we have to – we really don’t have a choice if we’re going to be followers of Jesus. It’s part of “training for holiness,” as Paul labels it in 1 Timothy 4:7, 8. Paul knows we won’t get it right the first time, just like you’re not ready to participate in the Iron Man until you’ve spent a considerable amount of time training. We are called to holiness, and that’s a tall order. But we’ve also been equipped for it by a God with unlimited resources. Besides, imagine what that would be like: complete freedom from the pattern you’re so tired of following.

So maybe give it one more try. See what happens if you row back out one more time. Jesus will make sure you have everything you need to change your patterns. Jesus will set you free.

488_smashing_pinwheels_quilt

Leave a comment

Filed under Addiction Recovery, Broken Beauty, Jesus Loves Me

Live free.

My friend S said something the other day that changed the game: “The opposite of afraid isn’t calm. It’s joyful.” She was telling me about a scary time in her life in which she realized that being calm is only the midpoint. True trust in God leads all the way to the other end of the spectrum – joy.

Historically though, joy has not been associated with the Christian life. Missionaries talk about suffering for Jesus. Lookers-on fear that if they became Christians, they couldn’t have fun anymore. Few pictures depict joyful-looking Jesuses.

Frankly, I get it. At first blush, the Bible seems to be loaded with rules. When you get saved, you give up your “freedom” to live life however you want in order to be given a Bible-sized list of rules. Don’t get drunk. Don’t have sex with someone you aren’t married to. Don’t hate your enemy, even the ones who hate you. Don’t eat the meat of animals with cloven hoofs. Come on.

Yet in John 8:36, the Bible famously declares, “If the Son sets you free, you are truly free” (NLT). And 1 Timothy 2:6 says that Jesus “gave his life to purchase freedom for everyone.” If this “freedom” comes with so many rules, what kind of freedom is it really?

To say Jesus gives us “freedom from sin” feels disingenuous. Romans 3:23 says everyone has sinned. I don’t know about you, but I, a “free” Christian, still sin an awful lot. Besides, to a skeptic, freedom from sin 1) doesn’t matter, and/or 2) isn’t desirable. And yet: Jesus wouldn’t die to secure something for us that wasn’t desirable. So there must be more to it.

Here is what I believe: Jesus purchased us freedom from certain destruction. Sin destroys. Whether sexual sin, monetary sin, relational sin, or one of the “seven deadly sins,” engaging in it causes us to lose relationships, peace, health, trust in others, money, and so forth. Any addict or recovering addict will readily admit the truth of that statement. Try going through life as I did, expecting food – food! – to fill your emptiness. It doesn’t. It costs you energy, health, money, time, and dignity. Or perhaps try to fill yourself with frenetic energy, staying busy, worried, and stressed all the time. Try pride. Try sexual sin. Try over-spending. Try numbing with Facebook, television shows, smoking, being bored, and general time wasting. These things all destroy. They destroy you, the trust others have in you, the relationships you’re in, and all manner of your health.

But Jesus – Jesus pours into you. He brings you abundantly joyful life (John 10:10). He replaces your fear with peace (Matthew 6:25-27) and joy (Luke 2:10). He fills your empty places with good things (Luke 1:53). He brings you hope, even in the most hopeless circumstances, because he makes everything new (Revelation 21:5), and he will accomplish in you what he set out to accomplish (Psalm 138:8). Every single wonderful thing that has ever happened to you has come from him as a gift (James 1:17).

So the freedom Jesus brings is not a list of rules. He gives you the freedom to enjoy your life, to not be bound up in things that don’t satisfy. He brings you a ticket out of consuming worry. He brings you deliverance from addiction. He introduces you to a life of completeness and fullness for all those empty places. He doesn’t take away the consequences of sin, but he gives you another option: himself. Without him, you can’t know the freedom of complete inner calm, inexhaustible joy, and deep wisdom for the most harrowing storms.

jesus-laughing-baptizing

Specifically for me, this has begun to mean freedom from perfectionism. My personality is as achievement- and perfection-oriented as they come. I am the firstborn of two high achievers, so there was no escaping this. I spent decades petrified at being anything other than perfect. It’s no way to live, folks. You’re stressed and frustrated with yourself almost all of the time.

Then, this January, the third time my Counseling Systems class met, I was assigned a huge project due the next week. Being new to the program and to psychology in general, I was terrified at the thought of turning in such an important project so soon, so I promptly scheduled an appointment with the professor. I sat on the couch in her office with a list of questions intended to help me perform perfectly. After hearing her patient answers, I was still scared to death, and the stress squeezed itself out as tears, my paper blurring in front of me.

She then shared with me a part of this truth about Jesus bringing us freedom. “Listen,” she said, “you can’t thwart God’s will with a less-than-perfect project or exam, even if that’s what results. You aren’t that powerful. If it’s God’s will for you to be here, you’ll succeed when you give him your best effort. You don’t have to be perfect.” Slowly, so slowly, I have found freedom from (most of) my perfectionism. God didn’t ask me to be perfect, and he promised to accomplish his work in me no matter what. I’m safe.

Believe me, I was skeptical of this “freedom” too. But he really did purchase actual, true freedom…for everyone (1 Timothy 2:6). In Jesus there is freedom from “hustling” for approval, as Brené Brown puts it. In Jesus there’s freedom from fear (2 Timothy 1:7, 1 John 4:18). In Jesus there’s freedom to hear the truth (cf. John 8:43). In Jesus there’s freedom to keep your joy, no matter what happens, because you know it will all be okay in the end (see Revelation and all the Gospels). In Jesus there’s freedom from all the junk that comes from you trying to meet your own needs – freedom from all that destruction and anger and sadness and hustling and shame. That’s what freedom is and that’s what you get with Jesus.

Tell that to your list of rules.

Leave a comment

Filed under Addiction Recovery, Jesus Loves Me