Posted on by Daisy Joan

Because I Said So

My husband and I are raising our second teenager.  She’s seventeen, brilliant, funny, stubborn, and loves Jesus.  I lose my patience with her more often than I’d like, but I try hard to set good boundaries, give her opportunities to accept consequences, and also encourage her to try hard things.  But sometimes, because I really am sounding more and more like my mother, she will ask why she can’t do something and my answer is the dreaded, “because I said so.” It’s the bane of teenagers everywhere.

And I’m guilty.

How many times has Jesus patiently, lovingly, simply responded to me with those very words?  And how many times have those words been exactly what needed? When I say to my child, “because I said so” it’s usually because I don’t have a good reason, or I don’t want to explain all the details.  I just want my daughter to accept that I know best.

But I don’t know best. 

Only God knows truly what is best.  Only God can say, “because I said so,” and mean it with full love and honesty.  He knows what’s best for me. I just don’t always want to hear it. I want what I want.  I hear what I want to hear. I do what I think is best in my own eyes. And somewhere along the way, I’m no different than the people in Judges who, over time, began to do what seemed right in their own eyes.

“In those days there was no king in Israel. Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.” Judges 17:6

And sadly, that’s not the only time the Bible says something like that. I’ve read it so many times and thought to myself, “those silly people. Why don’t they listen to God? Why are they so dense and so selfish?”  And then I do what is right in my own eyes and never even consult God, let alone ask for His opinion.

Even though I’ve been chosen by God, and been sealed with His Spirit, I rationalize with human longings that should be giving to God.

Do I hear God? Yes, of course.  Plenty of times I hear the voice of God in my heart.  I hear His pleasure or His sorrow. I hear His hopes and plans for me.  And still I can get so conveniently deaf to Him when I want to.

I’m so thankful that God is patient.  I’m so thankful that God bears with me.

“For the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and chastises every son whom he receives.” Hebrews 12:6

Hear me, though, when I say this: God loves to explain things to us!  He loves to tell us why. The problem is always with us. We don’t want to listen.  We don’t want to ask. We don’t want to obey. And so, because He says He loves us, and He says He disciplines us out of that love, He lovingly follows through with His promises.  And, though we may not believe it, it is for our good.

I wish my daughter would accept my “because I said so”.  But mostly, I just want to learn to accept God’s words. If He wants to tell me, “because I said so,” I want to listen.  I want to receive it. I want to trust God and I want to trust His Word.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. 2 He was with God in the beginning. 3 Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made.4 In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. 5 The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome[a] it.John 1:1-5

Kinda puts things in perspective, doesn’t it?

 

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Posted on by Daisy Joan · 2 Comments

Suffering Sucks

Suffering sucks God.

Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, 4 and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, 5 and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.
Romans 5:3-5

It sucks, God.  I hate it, even though I know that You will use it.  I know what Your word says about suffering. I know Jesus suffered.  I know David suffered. I know the Apostles suffered. Paul suffered.  And God, I am suffering.

I’m tired from fighting.  It takes so much energy to cope with physical pain.  And, Lord, I feel like I’ve dealt with crisis after crisis for most of my life. I know that lots of people suffer, God, and I am no better or worse than anyone else.  But right now this is about me and You. And I hurt, God.

It’s not even just the physical pain, Lord.  Sometimes, I really think I can live with that stuff.  But the emotional pain is equally hard.  It’s exhausting. Therapy has brought so many horrible things to the surface.

It’s stuff I buried.  Stuff I didn’t want to see again.  Even though it’s festered and rotted inside of me.  Even though it has slowly been killing me, I still feel like it’s too hard to get it out sometimes.  

You showed me a vision of Your steady hand carefully cutting out the dead flesh within me.  Precision isn’t even a good enough word for what You showed me You were doing in my heart. But it hurts, God!  It hurts so bad.

Then there’s all the physical junk.  My knees hurt.  I can barely walk.  And I feel like I’m a breath away from being stuck in my wheelchair again. Why did You allow the doctor to take away my pain meds and my arthritis meds?  I know the medical reasons, God. I even know the spiritual reasons. It draws me closer to You. It helps me have compassion and empathy for others.  It teaches me patience. It shows me a deeper level of Your faithfulness and compassion.

But the process sucks.

I keep thinking about Jesus in the Garden.  He had a serious “it sucks” conversation with You that night.  What He was facing was beyond horrific. I can’t even imagine. You know, though, God.  You know my hurt, my frustration and my fear.  But like Jesus said, “Not my will, but Yours, Father.”  Help me with that, would ya?

I’m afraid.  I’m afraid of what’s next.  I’m afraid of what pain I may have in my future.  I’m afraid of what harder suffering may lie ahead.  I know a lot of people are thinking right now that You didn’t give me a spirit of fear, and believe me, I know it!  But I want to keep things real, God. Only when I acknowledge my fear can I give it to You to turn to courage.

You make strength from my weakness, God, and I am so weak. Take my weakness.  Take my fear. Take my pain and my suffering and my grief and my tears. Take them and use them for Your glory God.  Your glory and Your Kingdom are the only things that keep me going.

Father, my suffering is bringing more and more death to myself and my wickedness.  My suffering has brought me perseverance in You. My pain has taught me endurance. It’s built my character.  It’s done all the things that You said it would.

You are faithful God. My suffering builds my hope in You.  And hope doesn’t suck at all.

12 Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. 13 But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.
1 Peter 4:12-13

For my take on depression, see my post: Having A Broken Spirit Sucks

Posted on by Daisy Joan · 1 Comment

Being Wrong

The only thing worse than being wrong is getting advice from someone who is wrong.  But if I’m being honest, I’m wrong all the time. I infer wrong things, I presume wrong things, I interpret wrong things, I say wrong things, and I hear wrong things.  And the people with whom I interact, behave similarly. It’s a truth of life.

Being wrong is going to happen.  

So what am I supposed to do when the people I interact offer me advice with sincerity and genuine concern and love, and they’re wrong?  Awhile back I went on a rant about some people I care about who had completely misunderstood a situation I was involved in that they knew nothing about.  

You can see the full article here: Dealing With Offense

It hurt and I was angry.  For a time I refused to receive any of it.  Why should I? They were wrong. But that’s the thing, even though they had made a lot of wrong assumptions, even though they had presumed a lot of things by way of other people, even though they didn’t know the whole story, some of what they said was still true.

How would I ever be able to receive the valuable truths from God hidden within the confines of broken people with broken ideas who loved me and genuinely wanted to help me?  I had to eat a big helping of humble pie, that’s how.

After a lot of whining and processing and crying and feeling like a victim, I finally had the sense to ask God to help me figure it all out.  God’s answer: “humble yourself, see My truth”. Not an easy task, that’s for sure!

So, knowing that God is in fact the only stable and consistent truth I know, I asked Him to show me.  I asked Him just to help me stop being angry, to stop feeling judgemental and victimized toward people I knew cared about me deeply, and just listen for God’s voice in it all.

Of course, the Lord answered my cries for help, and He began to walk me down the road of truth that could be found in all the words I’d been so offended by.  Wow. He revealed way more than I thought He would.

I humbled myself before the Lord.

I humbled myself before the Lord.  I acknowledged that God can and does use broken people to speak His truth.  And I learned a lot.  I learned people are wrong, but God is always right.  He loves me and He wants what’s best for me.  That means humbling myself to His truth and letting myself see His truth in broken human beings.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
    and do not lean on your own understanding.
6 In all your ways acknowledge him,
    and he will make straight your paths.
7 Be not wise in your own eyes;
    fear the Lord, and turn away from evil.
8 It will be healing to your flesh
    and refreshment to your bones.
Proverbs 3:5-8