Being Insecure

The majority of my days are marked with relative confidence. I am pretty sure of who I am and what I am doing in this world. I am aware of my strengths and weaknesses--and working to make the strengths stronger and minimize the weaknesses. I see and understand my human frailty, and still, I generally feel comfortable in my own skin.

However, there are moments where a wave of insecurity will crash over me. Often, it will come out of, seemingly, nowhere. In the midst of my normal, secure day, I can suddenly wonder if I am good enough or if people really like me or if I really "fit" in whatever situation I happen to find myself at the time.

What I've been wondering lately is: Am I alone? Do others have these random moments were you wonder if you really measure up? Everything within me says, "Of course...that's human". Yet, very few people talk about it or admit to it. Maybe the rest of the world is much more put together than I am. This is not beyond the scope of possibility, since I am not especially put together!

I remember what it felt like to be a teenager. As I teen, I think I felt insecure most of the time and it was security that showed up and surprised me from time to time. Now it is reversed. This leads me to hope that, by the time I am 90, insecurity will be virtually eliminated from my soul's vocabulary. That's the dream!

Let me give an example of this insecurity in my life. As a pastor, I have the joy and privilege of delivering a sermon on a weekly basis. A lot of time, energy, research, thought, and prayer goes into a sermon. For the most part, I feel that God has given me gifts as a preacher...meaning that, with His gracious help, I do a pretty good job most of the time. After church, I usually feel confident that the message was sound and effective. Then it happens...at some point on Sunday afternoon, the insecurites and doubts creep in. I start thinking about what I said (almost on a subconscious level). Then, with horror, I think: "Did I really say that?" or "I can't believe I forgot to say that?". I fear that all is lost. I have failed God, abandoned the Gospel, and confused my people. I wrestle with the insecurities, remind myself of what is true, and eventually that wave passes. Yet, week after week, season after season, the insecurites continue to come.

Another example: People like to give you their opinions when you are a pastor. People compliment you and say wonderful things. Yet, people also give their opinions about what you should be doing or what you could do better. In my saner moments, I am quite aware that the compliments FAR OUTWEIGH the negative feedback. But, for me, it is that one negative comment that I will fixate on and analyze and lose sleep over. The nice stuff, the encouraging stuff...well, that is easier to brush off and pretend it's not so important. The bad stuff sits with me longer. The ideas of "let it go in one ear and out the other" or "get thicker skin" are great in theory--and I generally attempt that secure way of dealing with the world--but when the waves of insecurity come, those adages are not much help.

I'm not sure why we find the bad stuff easier to believe. It seems that, in each of us, there is this sense of not being "enough": pretty enough, successful enough, rich enough, funny enough, smart enough, loved enough...like there is a defecit inside of us and, try though we may to ignore it, certain things continually bring the "not-enoughness" to the surface. Usually, it is the thoughts, words, or actions of another that most clearly brings that insecurity to the center of our consciousness.

Sometimes people say, "Well, I don't care what people think about me". I've heard lots of people espouse that. I have yet to meet someone for whom that is actually true, regardless of what they say. Basically, talk is cheap. If we are honest, we all care (sometimes more than we want to care). We are each affected and effected by others. That is part of being alive...which is a pretty great thing, for the most part.

In my mind, I realize I am so completely loved by God that nothing should faze me. I should be unmoved by the opinions of others or the demands for perfection this world voices. The majority of my time, on the majority of my days, I cling to the truth that I belong to God, that I am fearfully and wonderfully made, and that being Tina is a pretty great and special thing to be. It is just those ever present insecurity-waves that keep coming. I want to be passed that. I know, however, it is a process--and most likely a life-long process.


I guess I'm writing this to those people out there who know what I am talking about, for those who have wondered, "Am I alone in this?". The answer is "no". As one of my favorite songs (from the musical "Into the Woods") says: "No one is alone". I will just post those lyrics here (below). Truly, it's a great song...though I take issue with the idea of "you decide what's good, you decide alone". If we are talking about what is true and right, there are some things that are absolute, regardless of what we--as individulas--think about them. But, maybe, in terms of believing what is true about ourselves, we do decide alone. People can tell you all sorts of wonderful things about who you are and what you do, but until you choose to believe it, it is not "true" for you. As you read the words, just know it is ok to be a person in process...to be a complex mixture of confidence and insecurity, strength and weakness, faith and fear. I need to remind myself of that on a daily basis. It is ok to be right where you are...and, you are not alone.


from "Into the Woods"
Music and Lyrics by Stephen Sondheim
No one here to guide you,
Now you're on your own.
Only me beside you . . .
Still, you're not alone.
No one is alone, truly.
No one is alone.
Sometimes people leave you
Halfway through the wood.
Others may deceive you
You decide what's good.
You decide alone,
But no one is alone.
People make mistakes,
Fathers, mothers,
People make mistakes
Holding to their own,
Thinking they're alone.
Honor their mistakes
Everybody makes
one another's terrible mistakes.
Witches can be right,
Giants can be good.
You decide what's right
You decide what's good.
Just remember . . .
Someone is on your side.
Someone else is not.
While you're seeing your side
maybe you forgot:
They are not alone.
No one is alone.
Hard to see the light now
Just don't let it go.
Things will come out right now
We can make it so.
Someone is on your side
No one is alone.

Hospitals, Hotties, and Bigotry

I went to the hospital today, for a pastoral visit. As I was leaving, I crossed paths with a young man about my age (don’t get too excited, mom!); he was heading toward the hospital as I walked to the parking garage. Admittedly, I noticed him because he was a very attractive man (I may be a pastor, but I’m not dead!) and he appeared to be of Indian descent. When I was several feet passed the handsome stranger, I heard the voice of another man—someone walking behind me at a distance. I didn’t hear what he said, exactly, but could tell it was one of those loud pronouncements people sometimes make in public settings, hoping others will hear and notice. Since that kind of behavior usually means UNSTABLE with a capital “u”, I just kept walking. Because I had no idea what he actually said, I didn’t feel terribly guilty—and he was far enough away that I felt no societal pressures toward politeness.

Well, the “pronouncement man” started walking faster, until he was just barely behind me and, unfortunately, within my undeniable hearing range. The man repeated—loudly, obnoxiously--what I assume he said the first time: “All these damn foreign doctors, you can’t tell ‘em apart”. If my calculations are correct, he originally proclaimed this trash at the exact moment he passed the cutie man I described earlier.

Many thoughts came to my mind, most prominently: “Dude, you seriously need Jesus!” I thought of that poor guy—who may or may not actually be a doctor. He didn’t deserve to have racial slurs hurled at him by some ridiculous caricature of a bigot.

I was livid as I turned around to see a very white, sixty-something-year-old man, with a prominent red neck, walking behind me. I wanted to punch him. He assumed my solidarity with his prejudice simply because I am white. Anyone who knows me can testify to the fact that I am beyond white…more like “Why doesn’t someone give that girl a blood transfusion already?” white. In that particular moment, I was embarrassed by my skin color; I despised having ANYTHING in common with such a hate-filled man.

In the few seconds of lapsed time between his “All these damn foreign doctors, you can’t tell ‘em apart” statement and my need for a response, I gave voice to the only sentiment I could think of: “Well, maybe they think we all look alike, too”. Granted, not the best response, but it did name his racist stereotype for what it was. The man actually grunted and said, “Well, I don’t care what they think about me.” Then he sped up his pace and walked passed me in a huff. I still wanted to punch him.

I won’t address the man’s comment about foreign doctors. I will merely pray he finds himself in multiple situations that force him to look beyond the surface of people. I will, however, address the idea of every foreign person “looking alike”. It is a sociological fact that people of one race will sometimes have trouble distinguishing unique differences amongst people of other races. The truth, though, is that all people of a certain race do NOT look alike…just like all white people do not look alike (it would sound ridiculous for a person to suggest such). If people of a certain race all look the same to you, it is your perception which is flawed. It means you have not put significant effort or time into building relationships with people of other cultures. The more time you spend with people of various ethnicities, the more you notice the unique qualities, characteristics, and attributes of individuals. If “all foreign doctors” look alike to this man, the fault is his: his ignorance, his lack of experience, his blindness.

What happened today bothered me GREATLY because it was sheer prejudice. Maybe I was raised in a different world from him, but if the thought of what he said ever crossed my mind (or even the thought of thinking about saying something similiar), I would have been grounded until I was 50 years old.

I vividly remember being 7 or 8 years old and seeing an African American on television. I made comment about that, but I used a really terrible word to describe that person…a word that, now, makes me sick to my stomach. It was the “n-word”. In all fairness to the young me, I didn’t know what it meant. I thought it was just another word for “black”. In fact, I had learned that word from a very beloved and respected family member. No one told me that it was an awful, dirty, hate-filled word…until I said it, out loud, for the first time. From my mom’s reaction, you'd have thought I just drowned a thousand puppies in a lake or something. She shouted, “Tina Marie Dietsch…” (You know you are in trouble when the whole name comes out!) I learned that I would “NEVER say that word again”. I learned that was an “awful, mean, nasty word”. I learned that “we do not judge people based on the color of their skin in this house, young lady”.

To me, that situation is forever etched on my mind. My mom was not someone who got mad. Emotional, yes. Angry, very rarely. She was incensed that day…and I was scared…but I got the message. I have never said that word again. Heck, I cannot even type it! More than that, though, I got the message that people are more than labels…more than what they appear. I learned, from the beginning, that a good person—the kind of person I wanted to be—is a person who respects others, even when it was difficult—even if the world tells you to do otherwise.

So, I count people like Martin Luther King, Jr. and Gandhi (and my mom) as heroes and role-models in my life…people who saw what was true and best and good in people, regardless of the outer shell. The sad thing is, there have always been (and probably always will be) people like that man today. They are the same kind of people who disparaged and murdered such great men as Gandhi and King. They are the people who choose hate, judgment, and stereotypes rather than understanding, unity and peace.

It is easier to be ignorant and ridiculous. It takes no work. You never have to leave your comfort zone. You don't have to examine your own inner darkness or wrong motives. It is just plain easier. But, as we all know, easier is very rarely RIGHT, GOOD, and TRUE. I am a fan of what is right, good and true. I hope that is the fragrance I leave as I exit a room. The world has too much ignorance and fear. I saw that again today. I know, I should seek to understand this man today, to not judge him, but to look beneath the surface. However, I am not there yet. I still want to punch him.

Spiritual Hygiene

When you are preparing a sermon, you end up with a lot more information than you can actually use. That is the case for me, again, this week. My sermon for tomorrow is about “Taking Sin Seriously”. Sin is such a huge topic; I have accumulated three hundred times more information than I could use in a lifetime of sermons on sin.

However, in my studies, I returned this week to a cherished book on the topic: Cornelius Plantinga, Jr.’s “Not the Way It’s Supposed to Be: A Breviary of Sin”. I was introduced to this book in seminary. My recent re-reading stirred up myriad thoughts and ideas, which is often more helpful to a sermon than the best illustrations or quotes. There is one part of the book, in particular, that has always struck me as inordinately beautiful; I know, you wouldn’t expect beauty to surface in a book about sin, but it does! It really doesn’t fit anything that I am talking about tomorrow, but I want to share it, nonetheless.

This excerpt is taken from the chapter entitled “Spiritual Hygiene and Corruption”. These few paragraphs (below) are the author’s definition of “spiritual hygiene”, or personal wholeness. It is what a Christian can and should be…not perfect, but whole and focused on God and goodness, truly alive and involved with God and others. Read it. I promise you won’t be disappointed!

(Platinga(Jr.), Cornelius. Not the Way It's Supposed to Be. Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 1995, pp.34-35.)

“As Christians see her, a spiritually whole person longs in certain classical ways. She longs for God and the beauty of God, for Christ and Christlikeness, for the dynamite of the Holy Spirit and spiritual maturity. She longs for spiritual hygiene itself—and not just as a consolation prize when she cannot be rich and envied instead. She longs for other human beings: she wants to love them and to be loved by them. She hungers for social justice. She longs for nature, for its beauties and graces, for the sheer particularity of the way of a squirrel with a nut. As we might expect, her longings dim from season to season. When they do, she longs to long again.

She is a person of character consistency, a person who rings true wherever you tap her. She keeps promises. She weeps with those who weep and, perhaps more impressively, rejoices with those who rejoice. She does all these things in ways that express her own personality and culture but also a general “mind of Christ” that is cross-culturally unmistakable.

Her motives include faith—a quiet confidence in God and in the mercies of God that radiate from the self-giving work of Jesus Christ. She knows God is good; she also feels assured that God is good to her. Her faith secures her against the ceaseless oscillations of pride and despair familiar to every human being who has taken refuge in the cave of her own being and tried there to bury all her insecurities under a mound of achievements. When her faith slips, she retains faith enough to believe that the Spirit of God, whose presence is her renewable resource, will one day secure her faith again.”

God's unique love for each one of us...

The past few days found me reflecting on the nature of God's love. There have been times, I realize, where God is reaching out to me in love--and, yet, I minimize that love with the thought: "Well, You have to love me...You love everybody!"

I admit it...I am human. I want to be special, unique, and loved in special and unique ways by the important people in my life...and, most of all, by God. We all want that, if we are honest. I know I'm not alone in wondering if God's BIG, universal love is enough, at times, for the specific, special, individual, unique parts of me and my life. I know one thing in my head, but what my heart feels can be contradictory--especially during those dark nights of the soul, where old demons surface to wrestle with me in the shadows.

With those thoughts in mind, I have been "researching" the uniqueness of God's love for each of us, in particular. I came across the following article (below), that I found very encouraging (especially some of the quotes and Scriptures). I wanted to share it with my blogging friends...because we are each uniquely loved and cared for by God...even during those times where we struggle to feel or believe it!

Be Blessed!
Tina

(taken in its entirety from the website: "Nehemiah Notes:

Insight and Encouragement from Blaine Smith")

http://nehemiah.gospelcom.net/distinct2.htm


If God Loves Everyone, Where Does That Leave Me?
Appreciating God's Distinctive Love

The language we use in modern Christianity to speak about God and his love for us often fails to do justice to the special ways he relates to us as individuals. I grew convinced of this after a woman once told me she had long resisted giving her life to Christ because God’s love seemed too universal to her.

“For a long time I had no doubt that God loved me,” Nancy confessed, “but it made no difference to me--for the fact is that God loves everyone. And if God loves everybody, what’s so special about the fact that he loves me?”

Although I had never heard it expressed this way before, I realized immediately that Nancy had her point. Our manner of talking about God can imply that there’s no distinctiveness in a relationship with him. We speak of him loving everyone, and loving them equally, impartially, the same way. While the thought of God’s love being so inclusive is deeply comforting to some, others fear their individuality will be lost if they allow him to have much influence in their life.We long for distinctiveness as human creatures--probably more than anything. We each want to know that we’re originals among the mass of humanity and not copies. We crave assurance that we’re unmatched by anyone else who has walked this earth, that we may know there is justification to our existence.

This urge for distinctiveness touches us on two levels. We long, on the one hand, to know that our work and accomplishment are unique--that we’re able to contribute something to human life that no one else can. But we also yearn for distinctiveness in relationships. Much of the thrill of being loved and cherished by someone is the sense of being special that goes along with it. You know that you’re accepted for who you are, and esteemed in a way that’s different from that person’s affection for anyone else.

Yet if God loves everyone in an equal, unbiased fashion, how can there be anything distinctive about a relationship with him? What’s so novel about receiving his love? What possibility for creative accomplishment is there in living for him? You’re simply one of the mass of believers, responding to a vast cosmic love force.

Nancy had put her finger on why it is that some people, though convinced that a loving God exists--perhaps even that he has revealed himself in Christ--still fail to give their life to him. It would mean losing their individuality, and entering a life of clonely conformity with others who have joined the Christian movement.

Nancy’s struggle also highlights why some believers actually bail out of their Christian walk. The chaplain of a large Christian university agreed with me, for instance, that the major reason some students on Christian campuses abandon their faith is that they see little distinctive about being Christian. On the secular campus, one may enjoy a cherished sense of rebellion by following Christ. At the Christian college, by contrast, everyone around you is a believer. If a student assumes that God loves him and his classmates all identically and has similar intentions for their lives, he may reach the fateful conclusion: individuality can only be found outside of a relationship with Christ.

From Despair to Distinction

Nancy, however, was no longer inclined to think of God and the Christian life this way. Her concept of God had grown and changed substantially, and she now viewed him much more personally than she first implied.

“I’ve finally come to realize that God does love me differently from any other person,” she continued. “I don’t mean that he loves me any more than anyone else, but distinctively. I’m convinced there is a portion of his love that is meant for me and for me alone.” She went on to explain that this insight had been the turning point for her, allowing her to enter a meaningful relationship with Christ.

The thought of God’s love being distinctive was revolutionary to me. But the more I’ve reflected on it, the more I’ve become convinced that this is exactly the outlook Scripture presents. God is pictured as one who loves each person equally, perfectly, completely, yet still in a fashion unique to that individual. There is a measure of his love meant for each of us alone.

On five occasions in his Gospel, for instance, John refers to himself as the disciple “whom Jesus loved” (Jn 13:23, 19:26, 20:2, 21:7, 21:20). John clearly didn’t mean that Jesus loved him more than anyone else. He notes that Jesus also loved Mary, Martha and Lazarus (Jn 11:5, 36), and all of his disciples (Jn 13:1). In his most far reaching statements, John quotes Jesus as saying that anyone who follows him will be loved by God (Jn 14:21), and that God through Christ loves the world (Jn 3:16).

Why, then, did John call himself the disciple whom Jesus loved? I believe he meant that Jesus’ love for him, while not exclusive, nor greater than his love for anyone else, was distinctive. Christ loved him in a way unique from his affection for any other person!

John surely would have thought it appropriate for Peter or any other disciple to make this claim. By the same token, it’s one that each of us who follows Christ can make for ourselves. The remarkable freedom John felt to refer to himself in this way suggests that we should think of ourselves likewise. “I am the disciple whom Jesus loves.” Such a conviction isn’t egotistical, but central to our self-image as Christians.

I’ve been intrigued to find no less a thinker than C. S. Lewis suggesting that God loves us in an individual manner. In The Problem of Pain he declares, “Why else were individuals created, but that God, loving all infinitely, should love each differently?”

Many centuries before, St. Augustine expressed a similar understanding of God’s love in a prayer of his Confessions: “O Thou Good omnipotent, who so cares for every one of us, as if Thou cared for him only; and so for all, as if they were but one!”

Equal But Not Identical

We can barely begin to fathom this dimension of God’s love. It is a deep mystery. But we can realize some of its implications.

For one thing, it gives us a basis for accepting our own distinctiveness. An important way that God shows his love for us is through the unique manner in which he creates and guides our lives (Ps 139, 1 Cor 12). While it is a lifetime task to fully understand the gifts and plans God has for each of us, we have a theological basis for taking that responsibility seriously, and for getting beyond any idea that the Christian life must be conformist.

For another thing, we have a basis for seeking an intimate personal relationship with Christ, knowing it will be different from any other Christian’s. C. S. Lewis suggests that we will enjoy a distinctive relationship with Christ even in eternity. Reflecting on Scripture’s promise that we will receive a new name in heaven (Rev 2:17), he predicts that there we each “shall forever know and praise some one aspect of the divine beauty better than any other creature can.”

God’s distinctive love is also shown in how he nurtures and matures us, with a different pattern of growth for each of our lives. It may seem you’re not moving at a snail’s pace in some area where others are growing by leaps and bounds. Your friend has a devotional time for an hour every morning, while you struggle to concentrate for fifteen minutes. But other areas of growth come surprisingly quickly for you. You quickly overcome an addictive habit; you find an ability to share your faith that is out of all proportion with your shyness.

It can be so tempting to compare yourself with others at points of strength and weakness. Yet such comparisons are always meaningless. Even the person whom you most admire as a pinnacle of spiritual strength has plenty of vulnerable points.

The fact that God loves us distinctively inspires us also to accept the uniqueness he has given to other believers. And it saves us from thinking that we have to leave the Christian environment in order to salvage our individuality. The student on a Christian campus can know that while she shares something similar and vital with those around her, Christ’s relationship with her and his plan for her life are unique, as is true for each of her classmates. She can esteem her fellow students as individuals, and feel great freedom to be herself--where she is.

You and I should reflect often on God’s distinctive for us, and what it means for the life he has called us to live. Appreciating this aspect of God’s love will enrich our relationship with him in endless ways, and strengthen our ability to love others with the affection of Christ.

Every Season

I thought this was a fitting post, with the weather we've been having in Ohio. We are covered in snow and ice...and somehow this song (by Nicole Nordeman) keeps running through my head. The song reminds us that God is at work in us during all the seasons of life.

I am posting the lyrics on here as well (below), because I think this is such a great song. I especially love the last couple lines: "So it is with You and how You make me new,with every season's change.And so it will be as You are re-creating me:
Summer, autumn, winter, spring".

I like the idea of God re-creating me...that somehow HE as it work in us, even during those seasons where it feels like nothing is happening.

Phiippians 1:6 sums that up: "He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." It's like that bumper sticker which says, "Be patient...He's not finished with me yet". We are all works in progress, but I am grateful to God that He is bringing me closer to His likeness with every passing day. I pray that we will each experience HIs presence and His refining work in our lives...even during the seasons that feel like blizzards.

Be Blessed!
Tina

"Every Season" by Nicole Nordeman:
Every evening sky, an invitation
To trace the patterned stars
And early in July, a celebration
For freedom that is ours
And I notice You
In children's games
In those who watch them from the shade
Every drop of sun is full of fun and wonder
You are summer

And even when the trees have just surrendered
To the harvest time
Forfeiting their leaves in late September
And sending us inside
Still I notice You when change begins
And I am braced for colder winds
I will offer thanks for what has been and what's to come
You are autumn

And everything in time and under heaven
Finally falls asleep
Wrapped in blankets white, all creation
Shivers underneath
And still I notice you
When branches crack
And in my breath on frosted glass
Even now in death, You open doors for life to enter
You are winter

And everything that’s new has bravely surfaced
Teaching us to breathe
What was frozen through is newly purposed
Turning all things green
So it is with You
And how You make me new
With every season's change
And so it will be
As You are re-creating me
Summer, autumn, winter, spring

Come to Jesus

Another song to bless you...one of my all time favorites. I especially love the kids who are "dancing for Jesus". check it out :-)

Be Still and Know

Psalm 46:10
"Be still and know that I am God".

I listened to this song--and many like it--today...trying to focus my heart on God and rest in His complete-ness.

This song is beautiful--and true. Some of the pictures in this video are really inspiring, but the words and the song itself are what make it worth watching/listening to.

Also, my Aunt Mary and my Papa George especially love it when I post songs...so here is one for you guys!

Be blessed...rest in who God is...and know that you are LOVED beyond anything you can understand or imagine.

There but for the grace of God go I...

I was working at home this morning, writing some emails, with the TV on in the background. “The View” was on. I watch ‘The View’ from time to time, but usually am not home during its airtime. Anyway, I was half listening, half focusing on something else. First, they were talking about Ted Haggard (well-known pastor of huge church, caught with male prostitute and drugs). Apparently, Haggard went into intensive counseling for a long time and, as The View reported, has been “cured of his gayness” (their words).

I was annoyed by their discussion on several levels. The main thing is: I feel for the guy. I don’t approve of or condone what he did, but I do mourn both for, and with, him. I mean, I know what it is like to be the pastor of a small, country church. Sometimes, I feel like I’m pulled in a hundred different directions (there is just a lot to do and be!). I cannot imagine being the pastor of a church on the scale of his former church…let alone a national leader of the Evangelical Christian movement. The stress alone had to be almost unbearable. It would take someone with a nearly perfect personal faith and devotional life to be in his situation and not be in danger of “falling” in multiple areas. I would also add: there is such a thing as “spiritual warfare”…good and evil battling it out beneath the surfaces. When someone is making a significant and noticeable difference for the Kingdom of God, when lives are being dramatically changed by the power of God, where the Gospel is being preached in its fullness…in those places, Satan is lurking in the shadows, just waiting for his “chance”.

We are all so weak and frail. Unless you are desperately clinging to God and relying completely on the strength of His Spirit, there is no hope…none. In addition, if you hide your weaknesses and struggles and have no source of communal accountability and strength, you will fall. It is inevitable. We cannot live the righteous life to which God calls us to live without the help of others. This Christian thing is not a solitary thing. We are part of a Body…each needing one another to make it through this journey. Poor Ted, he had hidden darkness (like we all do…the darkness just takes different forms for different people)…but he failed to set up the spiritual and emotional support structures that would have helped him overcome that darkness. To me, that is the saddest part of it all: it could have turned out differently, if he had taken the necessary steps along the way.

I HATE how the media mocks Ted Haggard and how they call him a hypocrite. Seriously, who among us has not been the worst version of ourselves at times? Who hasn’t contradicted what they’ve said with something they’ve done? That’s one of the things I love about Jesus--how He says to the people who wanted to stone a woman caught in adultery: “Ok, stone her…but only the people who have never messed up, never made a mistake, never failed others or themselves. You perfect ones who always get it right…you go ahead and stone her”. The Scriptures say they all dropped their stones and walked away. If we are honest, we should all drop our stones and walk away…but we don’t. We parade the failures of public figures and church leaders all over our televisions…as if we are perfect and would never walk a crocked road.

“The View” ladies went on to talk about Lisa Nowak, the astronaut-turned-accused-stalker. They kept calling her crazy and laughing about her “diapers”. The whole time I was thinking, “This woman OBVIOUSLY has a serious mental illness going on and all you can do is laugh at her”. I was horrified. I saw a former NASA psychiatrist on the news who said, basically: “Either she has a mental illness, like bipolar disorder, that is just surfacing or some significant, life-altering trauma occurred to create such a reaction in her”. Seriously, something happened with this woman. We can laugh at her and call her crazy, but we could also offer a little compassion! That doesn’t mean I agree with stalking people or threatening them or murdering them. These are all very bad things. But people are complex. We have emotions that can overwhelm us. We have minds that can fail us. We have bodies that can declare war on us. It is that whole concept of “there but for the grace of God go I”.

I’ve thought about this a lot today, about how we mock people who falter or break. We point them out and make ourselves feel safer…like we would never--could never--do such things or be such a person. We like to believe in our pretense of stregth, but our lives are more fragile than we admit. We hate that about ourselves. Maybe we feel stronger when others fall, because the attention is off of us…because we seem so whole in comparison.

The sad truth: any of us can lose control of ourselves. Even the strongest person can reach a point where emotions overwhelm them. Darkness can flood a soul that was once light and airy. We can make poor choices—even little ones, here and there—only to find ourselves far down a road we should never have seen. Even our minds can fail us. Our dearest memories might be taken away. We may not recognize the most significant people in our lives. We might forget how to use a toothbrush. We are such breakable creatures--and we don’t like that--so we deny our own imperfections and focus on the faults of others. We like to think the phantoms that haunt others will never find us…such arrogance, such lack of grace.

The good news: no matter what happens, God never changes. In our good times and bad times, He is the same. When we have become the worst versions of ourselves, God is still there, offering new life and new chances. When we lose control of our minds…or our emotions…or our bodies…God is there, holding the whole world in His hands--holding us in His hands.

When I depend on my own strength and goodness, I am always disappointed. I am fickle and faltering…and constantly in need of the grace of Jesus Christ. I don’t like that need. I would rather be strong and perfect and impenetrable. But, that’s an illusion. We are all cracked pots, with leaks on every side. Looking at the leaks of others makes us forget our own for a while, but they remain, nonetheless.

So, my message to THE VIEW (really, to our world) is: let’s show compassion and grace, even in the face of what we don’t understand. Who knows what we would do or be if we had to walk the same path another must walk? We can barely walk our own paths well…and certainly not perfectly. There but for the grace of God go I…let’s never forget it.

Anonymous Letters

I received my first “anonymous letter” today. In some ways, I feel honored. I mean, after all, it’s like I’m important or something; all the great leaders, who made waves, got anonymous letters. Really, I think it is just par for the course, as far as being a pastor is concerned. I was shielded from that as an associate pastor, being part of a “team”. In fact, that was the thing I liked most about being an associate—that I could just do what God was leading me to do, work in my assigned areas, and not have to spend the majority of my time dealing with all the administrative details of church life (which includes people’s complaints—both anonymous and forthright). Granted, no matter what you do, people will complain about something. That is just people. In all fairness, I think it is a small minority of people, but they become the squeaky wheels that get the oil. I have to remember that I, myself, am slow to praise when things are going well…but quick to share my opinion when things don’t go the way I think they should (or when people don’t behave the way I think they should). We are all more prone to complain than to praise: look at those Israelites in the desert. I am them! We all are!

Don’t get me wrong, I think it is healthy to discuss our disagreements, to speak up for what we think is wrong or ungodly, and to make a difference where a difference needs to be made. However, the means does NOT justify the end. Personally, I find anonymous letters to be a poor means to attain any good end. There is no way to resolve any issues if you don’t know who has the “issues”. Also, though I try to give people the benefit of the doubt about things, I am still human. That means that my head is spinning, trying to figure out who sent this letter. I really don’t want to look out at my congregation on Sunday and be thinking “who was it?” What an awful thought to have running through your mind. I wish I had better control over my thoughts, because that is not a path I want to go down. But it is a path that humans tend to go down. We try to fill in the blanks, answer questions, put names with faces…and we want to know who wrote us that anonymous letter. What is that about “nature abhors a vaccuum” (isn’t that one of the laws of thermodynamics or something?!); when information is not provided, we find ways to get the information that is lacking…unfortunate, but true.

Granted, my anonymous letter stated that “many people” share the same opinion about the topic at hand. I had some wise advice from my former senior pastor, who used to be a district superintendent (i.e. a pastor to the pastors and arbiter between churches and pastors). He told me to always ask a lot of questions when people say things like: “many people agree with me”. His favorite question to ask was: “Exactly how many people?” And then, to further ask, “Did they say this to you specifically?” His vast experience proved that “many” usually meant a handful (sometimes, it meant “well, me and my best friend and my wife” or “well, just me, specifically--but I talked to a lot of people about it and they didn't DISAGREE”). In my short 32 years of observing life and people, it seems people like to feel they are not alone in a confrontation situation. We have trouble simply saying, “This is how I feel”, as if our opinion alone is not worthy of consideration. My theory is that people should speak for themselves, not for others. I say this because: a) I am hurt by my current situation and b) because that reasoning (“a lot of people agree with me”) only puts the other person on the defensive…like you are saying, “I am completely right; every one else agrees with me; your opinion is not as valid as mine”.

I have heard it said you shouldn’t open an anonymous letter—just toss it out the moment you see it is “unclaimed”. That is probably good advice, but I am too nosey for that. Curiosity kills the cat, or the Tina! Yet, if you can read a letter and look for what is true in it, and throw out what is not, it can be a learning experience. I am sure that is true for a less sensitive person…but I get my feelings hurt too easily. And, when it comes to the church, that is where my heart is--where I put my energy and passion. I want to be a true and faithful servant of Jesus…seeking to follow Him in all that I do and, especially, in how I lead His church. So, complaints about the church are interpreted as complaints about me. Again, that is due to my own frailties and faults…but I am human, just a “jar of clay”, as the Scriptures say.

I am unsure of my future response to today’s anonymous letter. Looking for some internet guidance on responding to anonymous letters, I came across the “Youth's Educator For Home And Society”, circa 1896. From Chapter 19: “Letter Writing” (the section “a few hints”), it said:
“Never write an anonymous letter. It is cowardly; The recipient of such a letter should quietly burn it. The man or woman who dares not sign his or her name is unworthy of notice.”

I guess the anonymous letter has been around for quite some time!

I also came across a pastor’s website, discussing whether or not Christians should write anonymous letters. I think he says some interesting things. I, personally, felt convicted by his message, since he believes that all conflict should be dealt with “face to face”. I have taken the email route before…BIG MISTAKE…too much misunderstanding and miscommunication. I have also called on the phone before, but there is something missing without facial expressions. Grace and healing come most freely through face to face discussion. I wonder how much conflict in my life could have been alleviated (more quickly and with less residual emotion) if I would have followed his advice (below). After today, I have decided I agree with him 100 percent. Face to face is the only way. I share this with you and hope it will bless you as it has blessed me.

(From www.Pastordale.com)
“Is it right to send anonymous letters?”

The answer is no. Anonymous letters are wrong for a number of reasons. The main reason should be obvious: as Christians, we are encouraged to resolve our differences with other believers. But setting forth our differences in anonymous letters only insures that they will not be resolved.

Think about it. There are two main ways to resolve our differences: one is to let our differences go:

Be humble and gentle. Be patient with each other, making allowance for each other's faults because of your love. Always keep yourselves united in the Holy Spirit, and bind yourselves together with peace. (Eph. 4:2-3)

A second way to biblically resolve an issue would be to lovingly discuss things, face to face, being “...quick to listen and slow to speak” (James 1:19). That way, both sides can fairly represent their point of view, real understanding can be gained, and loving hearts can prevail through encouragement from scripture.

Anonymous rebukes guarantee that neither of these courses are taken. When someone has written an anonymous letter, they’ve shown they can’t (read: “are not willing”) to let it go. And an anonymous letter, by virtue of its anonymity, insures that the two parties will never be able to get together for conversation and understanding.

The writers of anonymous letters already know that these are a bad way to deal with problems. That’s why they’re embarrassed to sign them. The very fact that the letter is sent unsigned is the writer’s tacit acknowledgement that its delivery is dishonorable, and that it is unbecoming for a disciple of Jesus.

Do things in such a way that everyone can see you are honorable. (Rom. 12:17)

This is a good issue to raise because it speaks not only to writers of anonymous letters, but to any of us who have treated a brother or sister badly: those we’ve snubbed or spurned or neglected or abused or treated unfairly.

If you wrote the letter I’m talking about, your stomach is probably churning as you read this. But don’t worry, there is a way to settle your tummy. It’s not easy, but it’s right. Remember, it’s like what you taught your children when you encouraged them to confess to a broken window or a stolen quarter: the right thing to do is sometimes the hard thing to do but it’s always the best thing to do.

The best thing for you to do is to approach the letter’s recipient, admit your sin, and ask them to forgive you (Matt. 5:23-24). Go face-to-face. Do not use the mail, or email, or the telephone. There is absolutely no substitute for face-to-face interaction when dealing with such things (scripture says “go to him”). I’ll guess that if you do this, the recipient(s) will be very forgiving. Imagine what a relief it will be for them, not sitting in church or walking through Albertson’s, wondering if the next person they see will be the author of that anonymous letter. Anyway, if you go to the recipient with contrition, they’ll be challenged to respond to you with forgiveness. Just as you have to do the hard but right thing, they will have to do the hard but right – and freeing – thing.

In the meantime, let’s not write anonymous letters.

--Tina says, “Amen!”

Near-death experiences

I swear I am going to get back into blogging on a regular basis! I’ve become one of those once or twice a week bloggers...but I aspire to greater vistas. We will see what this coming week brings, my blogging friends. This past week was mostly non-monumental. However, I did have a frightening dog experience the other night. I know how people love reading about my dogs (because they are the most amazing dogs in the world!), so here we go…

We had a rough night on Tuesday (technically, early Wednesday morning). I bought the dogs some chew things from Target. They were beefhide chews (which I was somehow misled into believing are not as dangerous as regular rawhide). Both dogs have had stuff like that before and been fine—and it usually gives me time to get things done, while they are distracted with chewing. Somehow, though, Ariel got a piece stuck in her throat. It was awful: she kept choking and then she would vomit this frothy white stuff (aren’t you glad that I shared). She did that for 20 minutes. I opened her mouth and tried to see in there. I stuck my finger inside her mouth and tried to "fish" for the object. I patted her on the back and tried to rub her throat from the outside. Nothing!!! It was so awful. Poor Pepper was just looking at us like she had no idea what was happening! Ariel is so tiny (about 12 pounds) that I didn’t think I could give her the “doggie Heimlich” without crushing all her tiny bones. Finally, fearing for her life, I went to call the vet (at about 1:30am in the morning). Guess what: NO PHONE. That’s right, my only phone (my cell phone) was no where to be found. I dug through my purse. I looked in the car. All the while, my poor little doggie was looking at me like she was about to take her last breath (and making the most horrible sound I have ever heard!). You know, when I moved to Columbus this summer, I decided to just have a cell phone and no land line…thinking it was stupid to pay two phone bills. I am rethinking my position on that subject! It turns out that my cell phone was at Target. I had been shopping there just before they closed, earlier that night. I had to use the restroom and decided to check my voicemail at the same time (it is a female thing…must constantly be multi-tasking). All I can think is that I somehow left the phone in the bathroom at Target. I had to send my mom an email and have her call my phone and find out where it was (again, seriously thinking about getting a landline, at this point!). Anyway, back to little Ariel…

With no phone, I didn’t know what to do. So, I frantically picked Ariel up and we got in the car in search of some animal clinic that was open at almost 2am. There is one I had seen around the corner from my house, but I was not sure of their hours. Alas, no one was there. Finally, I drove out to my vet (about 15 minutes away), vainly hoping there might be someone "on call"...nothing...but, at least I got the number off their sign (I had their number stored in my missing cell phone…ugh!), drove to the nearest gas station and used the pay phone to call. By the way, what has happened to all the pay phones in the world? I pulled into three gas stations with NO PAYPHONE before I found one (curse our blasted dependence on the cell phone!!!).

The whole time I was driving around, Ariel was choking (you could see it and hear it). The vet was obviously asleep when he answered...since it was well past 2am by the time I got a hold of him. He told me to feed Ariel Vaseline--that it would lubricate her throat--and, if that didn't work, to call back and he would meet me at the office. So, off we went in search of a place to buy Vaseline. The whole time, little Ariel was making hideous choking noises and looking at me with her huge, expressive eyes, like she was saying, "Why don't you help me?" I was just trying not to cry. I knew if I started to cry, it would be over! I was actually annoyed that the vet told me to get Vaseline. I thought, “my dog looks like she is dying and now I have to shop for Vaseline in the middle of the night, with no phone, and my dog on death’s door”. I cannot even imagine what the cashier thought of me coming into the store at 2am, asking where the Vaseline was, and then buying that...and nothing else. I sat in the CVS parking lot, letting Ariel lick Vaseline off of my fingers (first, I had to pry her mouth open and shove it in, but she must have liked the taste because she stopped fighting me). The horrible choking noise got less intense, but it was still there. I decided to drive back to the pay phone, while I let the Vaseline do its magic. We sat in front of the pay phone for about 10 minutes. Ariel did seem better, like maybe she swallowed part of what was clogged, but not all of it. I didn't know what to do because I hated the thought of waking the vet up again, having him meet us at the clinic, and then having Ariel be fine and dandy. Since she was a little better (meaning there was actually some time in between horrible noises...and the noises were less intense), I decided to go home and see what happened. I got on the internet to find the closest all night animal emergency center; the closest one is probably about 20 minutes away. I thought I would watch her for a little longer and if it didn't stop, I would go see some people who were up all night whether or not I came in! Just as I found the emergency vet place online, Ariel threw up again (five times total)...this time with the piece of beefhide. It was huge: at least the size of a silver dollar! I cannot believe she could still breathe with that in there. Then—to my horror--she tried to eat that piece again! (which, I think is an object lesson for humans, as well…the way we return to the things that destroy us…perhaps that will the subject of another blog, on another day).

Neither Ariel or Pepper will EVER eat anything remotely related to "hide" of any kind again! In my mind, it is a miracle that Ariel is still alive. It was such a horrible night! I think I would die of a broken heart if anything happened to her. But, our fabulous God rescued my little Ariel! Interestingly enough, I was praying like a crazy person the whole time this was happening: “God, please help her be ok; show me what to do; help us find a clinic that is open; please let her cough up whatever she is choking on”, etc. Once Ariel was ok, I did thank God…for His leading, His help, and for rescuing my little angel-puppy. But, my thankful prayers were not as intense, fervent, or continual as my prayers for help were. I really dislike that about myself…and it has made me long for a heart that is continually thankful for God’s constant presence, help, and under-girding (isn’t that a great word?) in my life. God must get so tired of our ingratitude and inconsistency! Thank goodness God’s love and grace are not limited by our feeble responses! I do, however, give praise to God—right here on the blog—for being so awesome and for taking care of my little, furry baby (and for taking care of me). God is certainly good…all the time!