It may or may not knock your socks off...

I'm doing an inductive Bible study on the book of Luke right now.  For those of you unfamiliar with the technique of inductive study, it involves reading and re-reading and re-reading again and then re-reading some more the chapters in a book of the Bible.  As you read you highlight key words and ask certain questions about the text to give you a deeper understanding of what is being said in it.  This morning when I picked up my Bible I decided to read chapter 4 one more time before I moved on. Ya know, in case I missed anything.  You can probably guess where this is going.  As I read I came to a particular verse and found myself wondering how on earth I had missed the wording of this verse before.  BLOGGER'S WARNING:  Before I share it, I'm guessing you're gearing yourself up for a verse that is profound beyond all meaning; one that simply knocks your socks off just at the reading of it.  Here's your warning....good chance that's not what's going to happen.  In fact, I'm thinking when you read it there's a slight chance you're going to think, "So?".  But stay with me as I talk about why it stuck out to me.  Now that that's out of the way, are you ready?  Here it is:

 

And all were speaking well of Him, and wondering at the gracious words which were falling from His lips; and they were saying, "Is this not Joseph's son?" (v. 22)

When I read this verse those 2 little words "gracious words" hit me unexpectedly.  Gracious words.  Something about it sounded so gentle and loving.  I decided to take my study of this tiny phrase a bit deeper and looked up the word gracious in my greek translation Bible (basically has the original greek word and then a more in depth translation of it).  Here's the meaning I found for the word gracious:  joy, favor, acceptance, a kindness granted or desired, a benefit, thanks, gratitude; a favor done without expectation of return; absolute freeness of the loving-kindness of God to men, finding its only motive in the bounty and free-heartedness of the Giver; unearned and unmerited favor.  Wow.  These were the kinds of words Jesus was speaking that caused His hearers to wonder.  Can you imagine having a conversation with someone and feeling joy, acceptance, kindness, and favor with no expectation of the same words in return?  Can you imagine feeling God's loving-kindness and a sense of the speaker's free-heartedness behind those words?  The verse says that these gracious words were "falling from His lips".  Can you hear the ease behind that phrase?  Can you imagine receiving these words from another and knowing that they were not only 100% genuine but also flowing from their mouth as naturally as it is for us to breathe?  Is it any wonder the people were a bit befuddled and asking, "Is this not Joseph's son?".  Isn't He just an ordinary man like the rest of us?  He's not of exceptional breeding or class, is He?  

I felt a great deal of conviction as the meaning of this very short verse set in.  While I'm not able to do exactly as Jesus does because He's infallible, I fully believe God expects me to try.  When it comes to this verse, I'm not totally sure when the last time was that I really tried to speak graciously in such a way that the hearer could sense that it was a natural out-flow from my relationship with the Giver of those words.  Of course, God had to up the ante on this and chose to remind me of some broken relationships in my life where there has been a great deal of anger and pain.  I could sense Him saying that I'm expected to have gracious words for those who hurt me as well as those who love me.  Should I be surprised?  After all, when Jesus spoke these gracious words He spoke to people who He knew would one day betray, abandon, and mock Him.  

I wonder what it would be like to have interactions with people who know me well and love me to respond to gracious words from me that were so of God that they could say, "Isn't this Amber?  The girl who was grouchy with me yesterday morning?  The girl who got a little too upset in traffic last week?".  Or to encounter someone who had never met me before, who was so struck by God's words to them through me that they had to wonder how it was another human was being so kind, when their normal experience of humanity has been one of selfishness and anger?  Kind of sounds like a fun experiment to me.            

A Betrayed Betrayer

There are moments in life where something happens or is said or done to forever change your perspective. These moments are usually so poignant because they come unexpectedly and almost covertly (or sneaky-like, if you will). For me, my perspective on communion will never be the same. I have recently had the opportunity to engage in communion in a couple situations where there was brokenness between me and those with whom I was communing. In the first situation I struggled greatly to sit at the table. How could I commune honestly with someone with whom I had betrayed by my sin and brokenness, and who had betrayed me by theirs? Wouldn't I be staining the Lord's table with my sin if I partook before reconciliation occurred? I shared this struggle with a respected friend, and was surprised by her simple, pointed response to my struggle. "Isn't this what Jesus did?", she gently questioned as I wrestled. Instantly I found myself envisioning the night when the Lord sat with 12 betrayers, broke bread with them, drank from the cup, and then served them by washing their feet. I was overwhelmed by the picture of Jesus supping with His betrayers. And this is why communion, for me, will never be the same. I will no longer go to the table refusing to join in this aspect of Christian fellowship because I have betrayed my brother or sister in Christ or even the Lord Himself. Instead, I will go with humility and gratitude, recognizing that the only One who was ever worthy of the table was Jesus Himself but Who still willingly invited his betrayers to join with Him in intimate fellowship at the table.

Crisis of Faith

It's amazing to me what I've decided should be my first post after not blogging for over 2 months. Truly there have been many things on my mind, many topics I felt stirred to write about. Either procrastination won out in preventing me to write until now or God was just waiting for the heart of all these other topics to come to the surface so I could just get to the point. It's a little irritating really. All these other topics made me feel more spiritual. This entry, on the other hand, is far more telling of my humanity which I most times disdain. Alas and alack, I'm committed to living up to the name of my blog. So here goes nothing.

The past few months of being in counseling has been in a word wretched. Slowly but surely God has been wrestling little bits of control from my hands; control that I had mistakenly thought I had given up long ago. But those control wars were really only the tip of the iceberg of the really big battle. "Do you think you do this in your relationship with God?", my counselor gently asked last week. We had been talking about struggles I have in trusting people and how it causes me to let them come only so far with me before I put up the big red stop sign with flashing lights. I foolishly(?) thought that only my human relationships fell victim to this particular road sign. Until my counselor asked this question that is. My first reaction was "No, of course I don't do this with God". That reaction lasted as long as it took to think the thought. Then I thought, "Well, it's possible I do this", followed immediately by, "Oh yeah. I do this". A sinking feeling in my stomach...I don't trust God. As if that sickening moment of realization wasn't enough the message was reinforced a couple times as the week went on. One such reinforcement came in my study of Psalm with a friend. The chapter for the week was 9 and as I read over it I came across a verse I underlined a few years ago in a time of depression: "Those who know your name trust in you, for you, Lord, have never forsaken those who seek you" (v.10). Reality check: I don't believe the Lord doesn't forsake us sometimes, I don't trust Him right now, I don't know Him as well as I thought I did.

Trust me when I say this is one of the scariest moments in my relationship with God that I've ever had. I've tried to recover my own faith, remind myself of all the things I've learned about God in the past in times of struggle, tried to push myself back into a place of trust but I just can't. I know my attempts at this are only a tactic to make myself feel better and get out of the discomfort; attempts to feel in control of my own faith again. However, I've clearly come to a point where there is no turning back, no deceiving myself about there being something amiss in my relationship with God. The only choice I have is to continue forward into the crisis no matter how scary or out of control it may feel. As if these realizations weren't enough, some beautiful sisters in Christ have had the gall to give me permission to wrestle with God and rage on (oh yes, there has been rage this week) while they had faith for me, on my behalf, that God would bring me through. Again, this feels so wrong (because that leaves things in the control of others yet again) and yet I know I have no choice.

The formal definition of crisis is "a stage in a sequence of events at which the trend of all future events, especially for better or for worse, is determined; turning point." I think this pretty much summarizes the current stage my faith is in. Here's depending on the faith of my sisters in Christ that the future trend is for better.