All of my life I've struggled with emotions. I think this is something we ALL struggle with in different ways. Some of us tend to be 'too' emotional while others of us build walls around our hearts that can never be broken down. It's not that one tendency is better or worse than the other...we're just all created differently--exactly the way God intended.
Recently, I've felt the need to work on this area of my life. God created me the way that I am, but that doesn't mean I can't try to improve on the good and work on the bad characteristics that I possess, right? As I've struggled to be more balanced in my emotional life, God has brought it to my attention that I struggle with this same issue in my spiritual life.
Having grown up in a traditional Bible church, emotions were very seldom displayed in connection with worship. Doctrine and Bible study were important but...emotion...in church? Never. I've also seen the other end of the spectrum. You know...churches that teach that you have to FEEL or DO something in order to have real faith.
God did not intend for our lives to be unemotional and boring. A life led by the Holy Spirit should be nothing but adventurous. However, our spiritual lives shouldn't be a chaotic, roller-coaster mess either. As believers I think we tend to get caught on one path or the other based on our emotional make up. For those of us who aren't so comfortable expressing our emotions, we take the safe route and attend a church steeped in tradition. A place where no one will expect us to raise our hands as we worship. A place where we can repeat the same duty or fill the same position each week. A place where we can claim that our faith is based on our knowledge of God's Word...not empty emotions.
Then there are those of us who take the opposite path but for the same reason--comfort. We find a place of worship that caters to our emotional 'needs'. A place where an outward display of worship is common. A place where we can experience a spiritual high. A place where we 'feel' the Holy Spirit moving.
In Mark Chapter 7, Jesus is questioned by the Pharisees. They want to know why His disciples don't walk according to the traditions of the elders. Jesus starts His response by quoting Isaiah.
6"'This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me.' 8 For laying aside the commandment of God, you hold to the tradition of men--the washing of pitchers and cups, and many other such things you do." 9 He said to them, "All too well you reject the commandment of God, that you may keep your tradition. 13 Making the Word of God of no effect through your tradition which you have handed down."
What kind of pitchers and cups are we washing today? We follow the same order of service each week...pausing in the middle of worship for announcements, thanks, offering, scripture reading. Yes, most of that is a part of worship, but if it HAS to be the same every week just so some 90-year-old man in the back pew doesn't have a heart attack, then we're 'walking according to the traditions of our elders' and we could be 'making the Word of God of no effect.' I pray that we aren't purposely holding to these silly, repetitious acts and losing the power of God's Word in the meantime. What good does it do to sing songs of praise to my Father on Sunday, put my offering in the plate, and listen to great doctrinal preaching if I never reach out to love someone in need on Monday?
On the other hand, in Ephesians Chapter four, Paul says,
14 "...that we should no longer be children, tossed to and fro and carried about with every wind of doctrine, by the trickery of men, in the cunning craftiness of deceitful plotting."
As believers we need to have a solid foundation. We can't base our faith on the way we feel or the way our church worships. We are sealed with the Holy Spirit the moment that we trust Christ as our Savior. (1 Cor. 1:21-22) He doesn't leave or move away from us...but we can miss out on hearing His voice if we're not listening. Studying God's Word isn't exclusively for those who are 'called' to ministry. Each one of us has been given a ministry called LIFE, and we should study to understand God's Word and share it with others. Paul prayed that the Colossians would be "filled with the knowledge of His will in all wisdom and spiritual understanding," (Col. 1:9) and we should have that same prayer today! Just because I raise my hands or dance in worship or walk to the altar to pray on my knees each Sunday, that doesn't mean I have a solid foundation on Biblical truth. If I don't worship this way on Monday in my own house in the bedroom closet, then is it true worship or just an emotional show for those around me?
Let's stop using excuses of knowledge-based faith to prove that our faith shouldn't be emotional. And on the other hand, let's not base our faith on emotions that change day-by-day, minute-by-minute, second-by-second. We've got to strive to have a balance in our spiritual lives.
I don't have the answer to what that balance should be, but I'll be working toward that end until the day I stand before my Jesus and worship in a way that I can't even fathom.
Monday, October 5, 2009
Enough for Now
As I lie in my bed with four amazing kids piled all around and even on top of me, I can’t help but go to that quiet place in my soul. You know that place—the place where you meet with your Creator and listen quietly for His voice. Music fills my head. Music speaks to my soul like nothing else can, and I hear the words of one of my favorite songs: ‘If You Want Me To’ by Ginny Owens.
‘So if all of these trials bring me closer to You, then I will go through the fire if
you want me to.
Have you ever thought that you knew what it meant to go through trials…only to be tried again and realize that you barely had a glimpse? A year ago I thought I was at the end of my rope. My husband didn’t have a job, we were living with my in-laws, and we only had one running vehicle…which didn’t always run. I sang this song by Ginny Owens at church one Sunday as tears welled up in my eyes because it seemed so real to me. It was real. I was hurting. And I certainly didn’t understand why I had to face the trials I was facing.
I sit here one year later and realize that I’m not any closer to knowing the answer to that question. I sit here with more trials under my belt. I have literally been through a fire. My son and I spent over a week in separate hospitals recovering from 2nd and 3rd degree burns. My husband has had two hernia surgeries. My son has had 22 stitches from jumping through a glass table. My husband tore his ACL playing a game of basketball, and he still doesn’t have a steady job. Although we have two vehicles now, they seem to break down at the most inopportune times. I have medical bills I can’t pay. I honestly don’t know from one month to the next if I’m going to be able to pay any bills. I laugh at the ‘me’ from last year for thinking things were so hopeless then. I thought I was at the end of my rope, but it seems I’ve lost my grip of the rope entirely now.
I cry out to my Father wondering why He’s allowing this. Where is He? Why doesn’t He fix this mess? Do I not matter enough to Him for Him to bring me just a glimpse of hope?
Then I remember Moses. He spent 40 years tending sheep in the desert before God appeared in a burning bush and eventually revealed His plan for Moses’ life. What about Joseph? He was sold into slavery by his own brothers and it was 25 years before it was evident to him that God had a plan and a purpose in his situation.
And I complain about one year of trials that I don’t understand.
I whine because my husband doesn’t have a steady job…forgetting that God has never let us go hungry and has always provided the money we need at the exact moment we need it.
I wonder why we had to endure a house fire…forgetting the profound lesson I learned as I pulled my adopted son from a burning closet—it’s only through God’s love in us that mothers are capable of such love.
I stress about unpaid bills…forgetting that God is slowly but surely teaching me how to trust Him with my every need.
I cry at the pain I’ve had to watch my son endure…forgetting that God spared his life.
My questions to God seem a little out of place in the scheme of things now. Yes…I still struggle. I still ask why. I still wish I could see the ultimate plan and purpose He has for me in this situation.
But I can see the character He’s building in me and the spiritual hunger He’s given me. Just as I see the frayed end of my rope starting to unravel, I realize it’s only in my darkest moments that the light in my soul can shine. Besides that, if I never let go of the rope how can I expect my Father to catch me?
And for me…well…I guess that’s enough of an answer for now.
‘So if all of these trials bring me closer to You, then I will go through the fire if
you want me to.
Have you ever thought that you knew what it meant to go through trials…only to be tried again and realize that you barely had a glimpse? A year ago I thought I was at the end of my rope. My husband didn’t have a job, we were living with my in-laws, and we only had one running vehicle…which didn’t always run. I sang this song by Ginny Owens at church one Sunday as tears welled up in my eyes because it seemed so real to me. It was real. I was hurting. And I certainly didn’t understand why I had to face the trials I was facing.
I sit here one year later and realize that I’m not any closer to knowing the answer to that question. I sit here with more trials under my belt. I have literally been through a fire. My son and I spent over a week in separate hospitals recovering from 2nd and 3rd degree burns. My husband has had two hernia surgeries. My son has had 22 stitches from jumping through a glass table. My husband tore his ACL playing a game of basketball, and he still doesn’t have a steady job. Although we have two vehicles now, they seem to break down at the most inopportune times. I have medical bills I can’t pay. I honestly don’t know from one month to the next if I’m going to be able to pay any bills. I laugh at the ‘me’ from last year for thinking things were so hopeless then. I thought I was at the end of my rope, but it seems I’ve lost my grip of the rope entirely now.
I cry out to my Father wondering why He’s allowing this. Where is He? Why doesn’t He fix this mess? Do I not matter enough to Him for Him to bring me just a glimpse of hope?
Then I remember Moses. He spent 40 years tending sheep in the desert before God appeared in a burning bush and eventually revealed His plan for Moses’ life. What about Joseph? He was sold into slavery by his own brothers and it was 25 years before it was evident to him that God had a plan and a purpose in his situation.
And I complain about one year of trials that I don’t understand.
I whine because my husband doesn’t have a steady job…forgetting that God has never let us go hungry and has always provided the money we need at the exact moment we need it.
I wonder why we had to endure a house fire…forgetting the profound lesson I learned as I pulled my adopted son from a burning closet—it’s only through God’s love in us that mothers are capable of such love.
I stress about unpaid bills…forgetting that God is slowly but surely teaching me how to trust Him with my every need.
I cry at the pain I’ve had to watch my son endure…forgetting that God spared his life.
My questions to God seem a little out of place in the scheme of things now. Yes…I still struggle. I still ask why. I still wish I could see the ultimate plan and purpose He has for me in this situation.
But I can see the character He’s building in me and the spiritual hunger He’s given me. Just as I see the frayed end of my rope starting to unravel, I realize it’s only in my darkest moments that the light in my soul can shine. Besides that, if I never let go of the rope how can I expect my Father to catch me?
And for me…well…I guess that’s enough of an answer for now.
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