Thoughts on Micah 6:6-8

Thoughts on Micah 6:6-8.

It's not about giving other things, even things that might be/seem hard to give. Thousands of cattle and oil rivers, in the end, don't really affect my soul. Even the hyperbole of sacrificing a child doesn't get to the heart of the matter. It's the death every day in my soul that God requires/desires. Most things fit into these categories. We please God when we kill the desire for revenge (love mercy) or kill thoughts about someone we're not married to (act justly). God requires us to be changed by the practice of spending extra time on our taxes and investments to make sure everything is above reproach (act justly). He requires that we listen to people and wait to speak even though we think we've got it figured out (love mercy). When those things that call to my sinful rise up inside of me, whatever it is, I must choose to act justly and love mercy. It cost me by causing pain to my infantile, bent and powerfully deceptive sin nature. When I comfort that pain by not acting justly or loving mercy, I choose my comfort over God and that is sin - not humbly walking with Him. It comes down to sacrificing the comfort of my soul for what God wants from us - not church attendance, tithes, service in ministry, or songs and prayers. It's a daily sacrificing, walking in the way of choosing God's way instead of mine in each circumstance, no matter what. And that gives me a fairly good definition of humility to work with. It all ties back in together. Acting justly and loving mercy and walking humbly.

Blogging while writing for real

Just wanted to say thanks to those who keep asking about my blog. It's been hard to remember to blog because I've been doing some "real writing". Hopefully I'll be able to share more later, but suffice it to say that I'm writing a bit of fiction that had been playing around in my head for the past year or so. It's been very cool to be creative in this way. But I do want to continue blogging and sometimes I get discouraged because I'm not doing both at the same time. I'm going to try and be more faithful, but it's something I'll just need grace from myself and from others.

On a side note, I've been thinking a lot about prayer and what it means to pray and why we should pray and if it actually does any good. God's been taking me through some cool passages in the Bible in answer to some of my questions and it's just been really exciting. Even if God doesn't save my family members or kids in youth, like I've asked, He's definitely is leading me through what His word says about praying. I know I'll never totally understand, but from just the little I've gotten so far, I know that He's not left me to figure things out on my own. I won't be writing any dissertations on the theology of prayer, but I am in a better place with God then I was and I think that's cool.

Fresh Plants in God's Courts

I thought these verses were cool:

Psalm 92: 12-15

"The righteous will flourish like a palm tree, 

they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon;

planted in the house of the LORD, 

they will flourish in the courts of our God.

The will still bear fruit in old age,

they will stay fresh and green,

proclaiming,  'The LORD is upright;

he is my Rock, and there is 

no wickedness in him,'."

Such an amazing blessing and promise!  Flourish, grow, stay fresh and green.  I like the part about bearing fruit in old age - we never get stuck on a shelf!  We get to keep working with God till the day we die!!! Sooo awesome!!!

Suppressing the theme of violence to a fault.

This is something I just jotted down the other day as some thoughts came to me.  I'm hoping to expound upon it at some point in the future, but this is kind of what I have for now.  

Psalm 24:7-10  "Lift up your heads, O you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.  Who is this King of glory?  The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle.  Life up your heads, O you gates; lift them up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.  Who is he, this King of glory?  The LORD Almighty - he is the King of glory."

So often in our culture, we try to lessen violence - and rightly so.  But we teach our children and teenagers and congregations that there is never a time to fight - all must be solved with patience, time, and words (and only words that do not offend).  And we shouldn't offend. However, is there0 never ever a time to fight?  The LORD mighty in battle doesn't really match the color scheme of nonviolence-at-all-costs.  When we teach extreme passivity (I'm not talking about military/war issues) in our daily lives, are we deceiving ourselves? There are many battles in our lives and we are told to fight. In 2 Cor. 10:5  "We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ." sounds like there is force involved.  Are we willing to be counter-cultural in order to have a victorious (battle-type word) life?  Or are we sacrificing victory and becoming soft, non-dangerous slugs because we abhor terms of war?  Our God is a God who is Mighty in battle, God Almighty - God of the Angel Armies.  I'm not saying to punch your neighbor.  I am asking why we have allowed this part of our culture to affect us so strongly.  And I am saying that we need to be careful about what we teach kids, teens, and adults of all ages. It DOES matter what and how you teach.  Even if it doesn't seem profound in an instant, over time we can become (and are becoming) a people who are unable to fight and stand and fight and stand - the very things we have been called to do (Eph 6).  

We may need to reword things.  We may need to purposely address concepts (real life applications) of warfare in the Bible.  And I don't mean trying to beat sin on our own.  And I don't mean claiming a parking place closer to the entrance.  As we strive to become like Jesus, may we not only choose what we deem palatable, but rather choose all that He is - including "The LORD strong and mighty, the Lord mighty in battle".

Gentleness

Just working through the Beth Moore study called "Living Beyond Yourself".  It's an 11 week study on the fruit of the Spirit.  This week is gentleness.  I've only done 3 days and I'm a bit on overload.  She says that some aspects of gentleness are (so far) submission, humility and teachability.  Wow.  I know that I need to work on those things so much in my life.  Sometimes I feel like I'm pretty decent with them - like God and I have chatted about it and we're cool.  Other times I feel like some kind of demon-crazy-person, wondering how I could have just acted so proud towards that person just then.  Weird how that happens.  I guess it means I'm not done growing up.  Huh.

Burden on the Battlefield (bit of a rough draft)

She stood there clutching the ragged woman's arm.  

"I've got her!  Here!  Over here!  Come and take her, please!  I'm having a hard time keeping hold of her!", the young woman called out.  

In the distance, she saw the angels and saints fighting, running errands, commanding troops, training, and taking care of the wounded.  

This woman that she held by the arm said that she was on her side - the light side.  But she looked an awful lot like someone from the other side.  None of this young woman's training had provided her with a results-guaranteed method for distinguishing between the saved and the lost.  There was the exercise of the fruit vs. the thorns.  And there were exercises for distinguishing between spirits of truth and spirits of evil.  What was she going to do?  If she let her captive go, what would happen?  But she knew in her heart that she couldn't hold onto her forever.  Several babies needed to be taught and she was missing that.  Fellow soldiers were falling around her and she was unable to support them because of this woman that she clutched.  

"I'm just figuring out what to do with her!", she called to those who passed by.  

Some gave her looks of frustration.  Others ignored her.  And some had their own captives to whom they clung - and their captives were definitely from both sides.  But as she called, no angels or saints offered to take this woman off her hands.  Day slipped into night. 

"I can't just let her go.  I can't! It wouldn't be fair or right," she thought, shaking her head.

Bomb blasts echoed around her - some far and some near.  She was supposed to be three miles from here assisting her fellow officers and several angels.  And yet, she hesitated.  "Why am I not over there? Because I'm dealing with this confounded woman!  But maybe in a minute someone will come. Maybe He'll come and get her."  

At least this woman wasn't hurting her anymore.  She had finally stopped that.  But something in the haggard woman's face told this young woman that the memories of those battles between them had faded.  Now she just saw fear and distance - almost like the woman wasn't actually there with her.  Whatever was happening, the waiting woman wanted out of her captivity.  

In the chill of the predawn morning, the young soldier walked toward her assigned camp, pulling the woman with her.  An older man - a saint with great battles behind him - plainly told her to let go of the woman.  

"But I can't, you see.  She must face judgement for what she's done to me and others.  She says she follows The King, but I don't believe her!  No one who follows Him would act the way she has!" she said, frustrated that he couldn't see the truth of the situation.

The old man reassured her that he meant what he had said. She kept walking, though, woman in tow.  

As the sun came up she had to stop and rest by a tree.  The ground was hard in the frost, but she didn't care. 

 "I have to get this woman to someone who will take her!  I can't give up."  The thoughts were frenzied in her mind now.  

It was all she could think about and she kept repeating these words over and over to herself.  An angel slowly walked up and extending it's long arm, pointed to the base camp where she was heading. She shook her head and looking down, she said, 

"I"m going there.  I know I am supposed to be there already, but, as you can see I'm have something that I need to deal with."  

He took a step forward and looked at the woman she was holding. 

"I caught her wounding some of our own.  She might have even killed a few - I'm not sure.  She says she's on our side, but I had to stop her!  I have to make sure she doesn't hurt anyone else ever again. "  

"Were you one of the ones she wounded?" the angel said as he wiped some blood off of his hands.   

"Yes," the soldier said.  

The angel looked at the ragged woman and sighed.  She seemed to be unaware of his presence and she just looked into the distance.  He came closer and said to the young woman, 

"She doesn't know that you are dragging her along.  She is only aware that her position keeps changing.  And I don't think she knows where you are going or why she's going there.  You're not going to teach her anything; you're not going to prove anything."  

He turned and walked away towards a nursery.  The young woman stood and took a  few steps in order to follow him, but she knew that was all she was going to get from him.  

She stared down at the woman in her grip and anger filled her mind. Her heart called to her; she knew she should let her go.  She knew that the old man and the angel were right.  She closed her eyes and opened her hand.  The released woman's head jerked up and to the side. The young soldier stumbled backwards, eyes now widely open.  Her captive looked past her, to the sky and slowly began backing away.  Fear and anger flooded the young woman's body and screaming, she lurched forward and caught the ragged woman, once again by the arm.  

"I can't let her go!" her mind screamed to her heart.

She walked with speed towards the base camp.  She was nearing the front lines now and the fighting was definitely more intense.  What each step the flashes of bombs and the cries of the fighting soldiers got louder.  She was supposed to be out there fighting and she knew it. 

"I'll just deal with her and then I'll join them," she told herself to soothe her burning mind.

Suddenly, her body lurched to the side as a bomb landed not far away.  She lost hold of the woman, but was able to snatch her back before she got far.  She pushed her hair back only to see Him standing there.  He was tall and strong, her Warrior-King.  She opened her mouth to speak, but instead she just held out the arm of the haggard woman to Him.  He only stood there looking at her.  There was fire in His eyes.  

"You must let her go," He said slowly, but loudly.  

She knew it was more than just to be heard over the fighting.  It was loud in her mind, too.  "Will you take her?" the young woman asked, trembling both from exhaustion and fear.  

"No, I will not.  And I don't recall asking you to ask me about it, either.  I said, 'Let her go!'."  She looked wildly into His eyes and then beside her at the woman who was held captive in her grip.  The woman seemed unaware of the presence of the King - even though she had said she followed Him.  More anger surged up within the young woman.  

"She says she know you and loves you, but she was hurting some of our own soldiers!  I watched her half kill fellow commanding officers and babies under her care!  She came after me, too.  But I caught her and wanted to bring her to you for you to deal with.  Are you going to do nothing?!?"

 She began weeping - her heart was breaking.  She had trusted Him.  She thought He hated injustice.  Why was He doing nothing?

"You were assigned to this camp and these battles, were you not?" he said, bluntly.

 "Yes, sir," she blurted out, confused by the change in subject.  

"Then where have you been?" he questioned, grabbing her free arm harshly.  

She winced under the pressure of His grip.  

"I'm sorry, Lord.  I was slowed by this load I have been carrying," she said, breathlessly, wondering what was happening.

"Obviously, but you will pay for disobeying orders - for what you have failed to do," He said, and began puling her toward the tents.  

Her mind was reeling.  She was His soldier, pledged to Him , in love with Him!  And now He was treating her like an enemy soldier.  She strained against His tugging, but she had no affect on Him.  He was completely unburdened by her.  

"Please! Please!"  she screamed. "Please forgive me!  And I have the right as your child because of your Son!  Let me go!"

Her King stopped and leaned forward into her face, His eyes piercing into her mind.

"Then you let her go, " He said

The young woman's head dropped, avoiding His gaze.  

"I can't.  I can't," she said. The thoughts clouded her mind, formed into words and flowed out of her mouth, unbidden.

The King began walking again.

"I will not let you go if you don't let her go," He said, His voice rising.  

She realized that this was totally beyond her now.  This was more than just her duty of patrolling the ranks.  She had disobeyed a direct order earlier in not going to her assigned camp and now she was disobeying her King.  Fear shook her and pain coursed through her heart. Realizations of what was happening cleared her mind of everything that clouded it before.  She cared nothing now for the woman in her grip or the justice that was needed.  She only cared about Her King.

"Help me, " she whispered.

Immediately, her Captor stopped and grasped both of her shoulders, pulling her toward Him to look directly in her face.

"What?" he whispered.

"Help me to let her go.  I don't want to release her.  But I do want to obey you.  Somehow help me."

She watched as Her King slid one of His hands down her arm and onto the hand with which she grasped the pitiful woman.  His hand enveloped hers and He very gently began pulling her fingers, opening them from their death grip.  She cried even though He caused her no pain. Relief washed over her whole body and mind and heart.  The woman she had brought stood up and ran away, still unaware of what had just taken place.

"What will happen to her?" the young woman asked, no longer anxious, only sad and curious.

"I'm not going to tell you.  You might see after the fighting is over, but you might not," Her King said, smiling, gently.

"Let me carry you to your camp," he leaned in and whispered.  He then scooped her up in His mighty arms and walked her to where she was supposed to be.  Her head rested on his shoulder and she sighed, 

"Thank you so much."

Asking forgiveness for not verbally ripping you to shreds just now.

Just thinking about what our culture/people values.  Specifically, I was thinking about what people value as far as personality traits go.  It's something I've been thinking about for several years now and I'm starting to learn that it's not something I'm going to figure out.  

I have often been told that I'm a people pleaser and that I'm too sensitive.  Honestly, I've seen myself in kind of a negative light for quite a while now.  Thanks to my sweet husband, though, I am starting to change that view.  When I say sensitive I mean that when someone makes fun of me or says something without thinking, it affects me.  I very rarely burst into tears.  I very rarely fall apart.  But people can see that I am affected because I become really quiet.  And apparently, this is not totally acceptable.  Apparently, I should either, 1) not let it affect me at all (I guess I'll just have to become kind of plant) or 2) fly into some kind of rage, telling people what I think of them and their stupid idea. 

I was telling a friend a while back about some different circumstances over the past several years in which I was labeled as too sensitive.  At the time, I thought I was trying to be gentle, kind and humble (Honestly, I was trying to be humble in the strength of the Spirit) and as a result I got told that I was "emotionally sub-parr".  That kind of stung.  Well, not "kind of" - it hurt a lot.  I have had many many people over the years (pretty much since I was about 13) tell me that I needed to be stronger and more assertive.  I tried to be these things - without really knowing what definitions of "stronger" and "assertive" they were using.  There were a few times where it worked out positively when I just "bucked up" but mostly, I just felt manipulative, pushy, rude and selfish.  I decided that maybe next time I would be softer and more gentle.  Then within a few months, someone else (usually an adult) would comment that I was too sensitive in _______ situation and I needed to show more umph.  Well, this has gone on for 13 more years and frankly, I'm getting tired of it.  As I read scripture, I get the feeling that we are supposed to be becoming more gentle.  I don't see a lot about umph.  I know that being sensitive can have it's short-comings, but I'm just going to throw out some other words for you to chew on.  Instead of "overly sensitive", think: gentle, kind, helpful, not self-absorbed, mild, meek (as in "blessed are the..."), thoughtful, protecting (as in "love always..."), patient, slow to anger, self controlled, keeping a rein on her tongue, and concerned about other peoples' feelings more than just makings sure her opinion is heard.  Roll you eyes if you want to, but maybe someone out there will understand what I'm saying.  When will we stop valuing the pushy, rude, self-focused kind of traits that the world values and start valuing the traits that God says are good and blessed?  Why have we taken negative traits and labeled them as good while taking what are positive traits and labeling them as negative?  I'm not saying that I'm awesome, I'm just saying that I have sometimes felt a little misunderstood.  

Wow - I wonder how many other blogs have ended that way?

I had weird day today.  I was affected very strongly by some dreams that I had last night and it those aforementioned affects lasted until mid-afternoon.  I definitely felt better after doing two days in my Bible study that I'm going through with a partner.  Being in God's word is amazingly stabilizing - actually that was what brought me out of my weirdness.  That cake was iced a tiny bit with the normalizing affect of doing stuff around the house, playing the piano, and getting things ready for Bible study this evening.  I can occasionally get caught in the "alternate realities" created by my dreams.  Those of you who know me well have no doubt been subject to my attempts at sharing these dreams.  I usually either only share them with people with whom I feel extremely safe.  Or I share them with people of whose opinion I couldn't really care less.  (Those last two sentences would have been so easily ended with a preposition!  But I didn't!!!  I rock.)  I can usually regain my composer within several seconds after waking up, but every once and a while I get a doozy of a night and my day leaves much to be desired.  Anyway, the point is that I did get better, so I'm thankful for that.  :)  And I am very thankful for God's word - I am continually amazed by the love all wrapped up in it.  Just the fact that we have it is so loving.  

Expectations

I just finished reading "Anne of the Island" (3rd book in the Anne of Green Gables series) and feel that my I have a bit of a greater "scope for the imagination" now that that lovely book has filled my heart.  Anne has several times in which her girlhood ideals and romanticisms are shattered by real-life experiences.  Marriage proposals are not what they "should" be and getting a B.A. does not bring the thrill that she thought it would.  I love and hate this story because I can identify with it so much.  I think God puts in our hearts expectations and hopes of glorious and "thrilling" things.  I constantly imagined and played out in my head how things would be when I was older.  I wanted things to be so rapturous, sending me to the heights of all that is wonderful.  There were some things that were shattered early on: the expectation that your parents will live forever; the expectation that you can have a wonderful family; the expectation that you would have a best friend with whom you could grow up; the expectation that you'd get an education and make a difference in this world.  I'm not trying to be cynical, I'm just saying that I've had a lot of dreams that didn't come true and it hurts. But regardless of the unending argument between philosophers and poets, I would rather dream than not.  I'm needing a bit of help, though, and I think this is why God wants me to keep writing.  Maybe there are some dreams that do come true.  I have a husband who is more amazing than I could have ever asked for!  That's definitely a point for the dream side.  Maybe there are more out there.  And why do we (I) think that the only dreams that count are the ones we had as children.  What if the dreams we have now are just as magical and fairy-like and wonderful?  What if the dreams we have now deserve just as much attention as the ones that I had when I was a tender lass of 6 or 12 or 16?  Hopefully I'll keep walking down "Lover's Lane" and visiting the "Dryad's Bubble" to cultivate my hopes and dreams.  God made this dreamer's heart.  I don't need to be ashamed before Him.  In fact, I can invite Him to join me in my dreaming place and ask Him to color my dreams with colors that only He has.  And maybe some day, even as I live, I'll see these things come true.  I'm not talking about wishing on a  star.  I'm talking about the real deep desires of the heart and mind that come from... somewhere.  I shouldn't give up hope and I hope that you don't either.