Stepping out of my comfort zone!

"For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out 'Abba, Father'" (Romans 8:15). 

I think it's so interesting that the contrary spirit of adoption is the spirit of bondage to fear. Adoption says, "I am yours. I am accepted. I am complete and secure and made whole and safe and satisfied in You alone." Fear drives insecurity, intimidation - the exact opposite of adoption.

Being in a new town, a new church, with new friends -- all my insecurities and intimidation are only heightened. Nothing demonstrates this more clearly than this week: helping with VBS. When Pam asked me (repeatedly), I felt fear literally creep into my heart. I wanted every excuse not to help: But I don't have kids. But I don't have time. But I don't know anyone. But that's not "my thing." And in the end, all I had were excuses. So, reluctantly, fearfully, I said yes. (She's awfully persistent, too. :))

I have never volunteered for a VBS -- the mere sound of VBS makes my anxiety levels rise. I am introvert, so something like that -- lots of kids, lots of people, knowing no one -- that stresses. me. out.

But, as an introvert, I am learning how to embrace who I am and all that God has called me to. There's nothing wrong with being an introvert--but there is something wrong with using that as an excuse to walk in fear and insecurity and intimidation.

So, I said yes. And for the first twenty minutes or so, I was incredibly uncomfortable: in a room full of women and volunteers and volunteers' children with no "task," knowing no one. But you know what? Uncomfortable is good because uncomfortable is where I get to challenge head on whether I will choose acceptance and adoption or fear and intimidation. 

In the end, I was so blessed. I got to work in the kitchen, which is the perfect place for me. Make snacks? Pour lemonade? Serve and play hostess? Clean dishes and throw away trash and wipe down tables? Sure, I can do that. Gladly!

And I still got to serve and love on others the way I  prefer: one on one, not in front of a group, not in a crowd. I talked to a sixteen-year-old girl off and on for three hours; every time we were alone for a few minutes, she'd pick up where she left off, telling me her story. And when a little four-year-old was brought to the kitchen because they could not get her nose to quit bleeding: yep, I can handle that, too. I know a lot about nose bleeds. So, maybe out of my comfort zone but in my own way, the Lord let me hold this little girl and encourage an older one in the way that I prefer.

In faith, I stepped into the uncomfortable, and He graciously gave me comfort.

A Trust that Sustains: Faith in His Goodness

"You are good, and do good." Psalms 119:68

You are good, and what You do is good, and if I really believe that at my core, isn't that the key? When I lose heart, when my faith withers, isn't it really a doubt in Your goodness? Could You still be a good Daddy, even in the face of a "No"? Could You really be trustworthy to hold all my hopes and fears and dreams and longings? Or do I need to settle those for myself?

Faith and humility are the counterpart, the antidote, to pride and unbelief. 

Unbelief says You're not really all that You say You are -- You're not good, and I can't trust You. And so, in my pride, I'll believe instead I can somehow do better on my own.

But open palms and a heart surrendered says, Daddy, I can't do it. I can't and shouldn't and don't want to write the story that only You can write. The one that is already penned and perfect. Faith and humility says, I am not enough, but You are. You are good, and what You do is good. And I can trust You because I believe that deep down.

When at the core of me, I believe -- really believe -- You are good, then I am safe and secure. When, from my depths, I trust You deeply and fully, then I am free.

When we don't give thanks in all circumstances, we are faced with either our selfishness that forgets to pause and ponder, to acknowledge His grace that rescues us over and over, despite ourselves, or our doubt: Can I really thank Him in all things, for this? -- even this! And we begin to wonder, is He really good? Is He worthy of my thanks, He who allows this?

And so, if we thank Him at all, we thank Him despite this, rather than for this. But when we thank Him for it all, it's an expression of our faith, our gratitude, our humility, and our trust -- in His inherent goodness, despite all that we see and feel.

Eyes closed. Head bowed. I thank Him for it all: the blessings and disappointments, to find joy in every trial. The dark cloud leaks a ray of light -- the trapped glimmer of hope. I see it through the rain: a picture of His grace.

My trust buries deeper and deeper still, like the roots of our pecan trees in search of water -- and life and all that sustains. If I really plant my trust deep down, then I am free, I am released. I am safe to thank Him for it all because I know -- yes, I trust -- He is good.

Choosing Joy!

As of Saturday, we have lived in Plainview for one month. It is a little crazy to think about how quickly the time has passed, especially considering how many months and months (10 to be exact) we spent praying and waiting for God to move on our behalf. God's hand has so clearly been in everything that has happened--from the smooth closings, the available funds, the moving process, and even unpacking.

I will be honest, though... Our first month in Plainview has been a little hard. We have had a few bumps in the road, some unexpected problems, namely our plumbing, which quit working the day after we moved in, and even now, one month later, is somewhat fixed, but we still don't have 100% functioning.

What I wasn't prepared for was the emotional battle my heart would face. Here God has blessed us with this beautiful house we hoped and prayed for and a five minute drive to my work, and He has provided all that we asked and needed to get us here.

And yet, within a week of living in Plainview, I suddenly felt very lonely and vulnerable. I missed my friends and family in Lubbock, especially on the nights Hal traveled, and I was acutely aware that I had no social life. At the same time, I felt so overwhelmed to live in this kid-ready house with a playroom and a swing set and access to a community pool. Everything reminded me that I'm not pregnant, we don't have kids, and I'm still just an outsider looking in.

For weeks I have had this battle in my heart--and for weeks, I felt like I've been losing.

But this weekend the Lord reminded me that He is for me, not against me. I know He called us to Plainview. I know He gave us this exact house for an important reason. I know He has a plan.

Friday night, we got to hear Dr. Ben Carson speak. Among his many other accomplishments, his life story and all that he has had to overcome just blew me away. He repeatedly talked about personal choice, saying, "The person who is most responsible for what happens to you in life is you."

I get to choose. I choose what my attitude will be. I choose whether or not I'll have joy or sorrow. And when I don't choose His promises or all that He has for me, I am letting the enemy rob me of my joy. When I don't choose thankfulness for all that He has provided, I am letting the enemy steal my testimony.

So, we don't have kids... So, I don't have a lot of friends (yet). I have a lot of other blessings in my life, including an incredible husband, who is my best friend. And the friendships I do have are far richer in quality than they would ever be in quantity. (I mean, how many friends will spend 14 hours in one day helping you paint--and get back into the house you've accidentally locked yourself out of!!)

My God has abundantly and richly blessed me, and if I will remember that He is my provider, my sufficiency, my security, and my hope, then I can change the attitude of my heart and in exchange, receive His spirit of joy and grace and thankfulness. I may not have the full picture. I may  not see His full purpose for us in Plainview, but He does. And if I really believe in His goodness, if I really believe in His faithfulness, then I can trust Him, beyond my circumstances, beyond my emotions, that He is still working on my behalf, that He is still with me and for me.

Righteousness and Justification through Faith

Romans 1 – 4

1:18 – 3:20

It is important to look at these verses in context. I have known for a long time that the Romans 1 chapter was the “homosexuality” chapter, and many point to this as the confirmation that God sees this as sin even in the New Testament. But I noticed a few insights today:

1. God gave them over to their wickedness. The phrase “God gave” is in vs. 24, 26, and 28. God is still in sovereign control here, but this is also a great picture of the free will He has given us: the will to choose Him or not (whether we have knowledge of Him or not—vs. 21). 
2. That said, the point of Paul’s introduction was not to condemn those practicing sexual immorality (among other sins). They are not his audience. His audience is born-again believers in Rome, primarily Jews. 
3. So, Paul begins by painting the worst picture of sin (sexual immorality) (Ch. 1) only to bring to light that the Jews are as guilty as the Gentiles (Ch. 2). He is setting the scene for Ch. 3—that all fall short of the glory of God. 
4. The statement “There is no partiality with God” (2:11) becomes key here. Both that Jews and Gentiles are equal, but also that the sins of each group—those who do not know the law and break it, and those who know the law and break it—are likewise equally judged by a just God. 
5. And finally, to set up the fullness of the impact of Chapter 3, Paul again raises the point both that God is not partial and that their Jewish traditions were not what would save them or exempt them from judgment. We already know they have broken the law, but then Paul goes one step further—now their circumcision likewise will not save them. 

In other words, the message for Chapter 1 and 2, for Jews and Gentiles, for circumcised and uncircumcised, is that all are equally condemned under the law. In short, all have failed—all are under sin.

The law provides knowledge of sin (3:20). But the law does not provide righteousness.

3:21 – 4:25

Only God is righteous, apart from the law. And through faith, His righteousness is revealed to those who believe. Paul notes, “There is no difference” (3:22).

“All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” (3:23)!

It’s only through Jesus that we are redeemed; we are justified.

Here is the key, though, to the Jews who think they have followed the law (but are equally guilty):

1. God sent His son to justify us to demonstrate His righteousness, to show the gap that had existed all this time (v. 25-26). 
2. In the past, God had passed over the sins that were committed, in his forbearance (v. 25). This word suggests not just His patience or His longsuffering, but also His tolerance. And even if we think of the picture that the first Passover creates whereby the Jews put blood over their doorposts so the Angel of Death would pass over—even then, this is a picture of tolerance, of excused sins. This is not justification; this is not an impartation of righteousness. 
3. In the present, now, God sent His son to justify and redeem our sins to demonstrate His righteousness, “that He might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus” (3:26). 

These words are so contrary to what the Jews likely knew and believed. Paul is telling them that even though they have the law, even though they are circumcised, they are guilty under the law. They are not righteous; they are not justified on judgment day.

And if they think they were or are righteous under the law, they are wrong. They have fallen short—and all this time in the past, God was merely tolerant to “pass over” their sins and unrighteousness—as God’s chosen people.

But Paul’s words are not to condemn but to speak truth that only through faith in Jesus can we be justified; only then is God’s righteousness revealed; only then do we receive His righteousness through faith.

His righteousness must be through faith because if it were not, not only would we be in the past phase where God was merely tolerant of our sins (and passed over them) according to our obedience to the law, but also it would mean righteousness comes through the law and thus, through works.

Abraham’s faith was accounted to Him as righteous (Ch. 4) not because of his works or the law—but because of his faith to believe in the unseen, to believe in the promise of God, to believe despite his circumstances that God would do what He said He would do (4:18-22).

God’s promise to Abraham was through the righteousness of faith, not the law, because again, if our heir-ship is of the law, then “faith is made void and the promise has no effect” (4:14).

So—again—the law provides knowledge of sin, but the law does not impart righteousness.

How then could we be made righteous? Only by faith are we made righteous; only by faith are we justified.

Paul’s purpose in Chapters 1 – 4 is not to condemn but to make the Jews (and Gentiles) understand that their righteousness is only through faith, not the law, not circumcision. I believe God wanted to humble them, which is why Romans begins by recognizing the sins of the people in that particular culture and that particular time—so that they might know apart from faith in Jesus, they are not justified; they are not righteous; and as such, they, too, are as guilty as those they judge.

For the Church today, we live in a culture and among a people where sin is rampant. And like the Jews Paul addresses, we seem to judge those sins as if we were sin-less. We, too, seem to forget that under the law—which provides knowledge of sin—we, too, are guilty, we who think we are righteous, according to the law.

And in our judgment, we have forgotten that all fall short; our justification, our righteousness is only through faith. It is not through the law, it is not according to our deeds, it is not by works.

How then can we boast? In what can we be proud? From what of ourselves do we have the right to judge if we, too, are guilty under the same law?

It is “the goodness of God that leads us to repentance” (2:4)—in other words, it is the revelation of all that He’s done despite all that we deserve (His mercy that doesn't punish us for what we deserve; His grace that offers us what we don’t deserve). Let us, in our humility, remember this, lest we boast or pridefully believe ourselves to be better than they who have not yet received the righteousness of God by faith in Jesus Christ, our redeemer in whom alone we are justified.

The certainty and security of what we know and don't know

In 2002, Donald Rumsfield made a controversial comment about what we know: "There are known knowns; there are things we know that we know. There are known unknowns; that is to say, there are things that we now know we don't know. But there are also unknown unkonwns--there are things we do not know we don't know."

Among other things, Rumsfield was criticized for his convoluted use of language--and this post has nothing to do with the politics of his statement. But I think he raises a good point in terms of what we know about what we know or don't know. And I wonder if the categories of knowledge may look more like this:

1. We know that we know.
2. We know, but we don't know that we know.
3. We don't know, but we know that we don't know.
4. We don't know, but we don't know that we don't know. 

Or, maybe there's only three categories that matter:

1. What we know for certain
2. What we think we know (but may or may not actually know)
3. What we don't know (whether we know or don't know that we don't know it)

Before I lose all my readers, I promise I'm making a connection soon... :) Some of you know, we have been on a "house journey" for about 6 - 8 months. We feel God is calling us to live in Plainview, and we've been trying to sell our house since October. In this process, God has taught us so much about trusting and walking in faith. And I was thinking this weekend about these levels of knowledge, and I was thinking that what I know for certain, and what I think I know, and what I don't know have all been so tested in this season to the point that some days, all I can do is declare: 

"Lord, I don't know what you're doing in all this. I don't know what your plan is, but here's what I do know..." 

In this journey, I've learned so much about the false security of the immediate--what we think we know and can take control of, which can, in fact, be easily changed. Our circumstances change, both good and bad, but His character, His attributes--these are things we get to know that we know for certain. 

Here is what I know: He is good and faithful. He is for me and with me. He will not fail me; He will not forsake me. He never changes. He is my rock, my refuge, my safe place. He is sufficient. He is my hope, my security--I have all I need in Him. And He is Daddy; He will provide for all our needs. 

When all that's in front of me is doubt and confusion, I just have to go to what I know. If I focus on what I think I know, I am fooled, and if I focus on what I don't know, I am frustrated. But if I focus on Him, I am fulfilled. 

After a long journey (I'll spare you the full story, but the climax includes re-plumbing our entire house), we have a contract on our house, we have survived the option period, and, Lord willing, we will sell our house on May 29. But there's a reason James writes, 

"Come now, you who say 'Today or tomorrow, we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit'; whereas, you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time, and then vanishes away. Instead, you ought to say, 'If the Lord wills, we shall live or do this or that'" (James 4:13-15). 

And because of that--because the certainty of our move is really only in "Lord willing," the Lord even still reminds me to hide my heart in Him, to put my plans and the "what we think we know" in the sovereignty of His hands. 

And so I do, but still I am left with other "unknowns," chief of which is where we will live in Plainview. And I don't know whether the answer to this question lies in knowledge 2 or knowledge 3:

• Do we know the house God has for us in Plainview, but we don't know that we know?
• Or do we not know, and so we just know that we don't know?

I'm not sure. Our "house in Plainview" story is about as long as our "Selling our house in Lubbock" story, but here's the short version: Back in October, we found a house we loved; then we had to re-plumb our house in Lubbock, which knocked that house out of the realm of possibility  Then we found another house we liked, but the inspection report blew that one quickly out of the realm of possibility -and at about the same time, the price on house number one was reduced, putting it back in the realm of possibility. 

So now we ask: Was the first one removed because it wasn't what God wants? Was the second one removed because the first is actually what God wants? Or were both removed because neither are what God wants? 

All along God has told me that He will open the doors so clearly and fully. And He has also told me not to plan--not to think I know, not to try to figure it out. And as hard as it's been, I feel like He wants to keep me in two places of knowledge: 

• What I know I know for certain: His character and attributes
• What I don't know, but don't know I don't know: which keeps me trusting in Him

When we got the second contract on our house in Lubbock, we laughed; we were in complete shock. I told the Lord, it would be like you to surprise us and also to orchestrate it at a time when we have no plan for a house in Plainview. 

So, even today--approximately one month from our closing date--I just declare that I still don't have it figured out. I don't know, and I don't presume to know what God is doing or how He will work it all out. But what I do know, I get to know for certain: I am His and He is sufficient for me.