The Idols of My Heart

“Son of man, these men have set up idols in their hearts and have put sinful stumbling blocks before their faces. Should I be consulted by them at all?”—Ezekiel 14:3

I recently asked God to reveal the idols of my heart—a dangerous prayer to pray, I know. However, I realize that those idols are stumbling blocks which prohibit my growing intimacy with God. As usual, God responded quickly and I’m still not sure I like what He has revealed to me. This idol is one I never would have recognized without the Holy Spirit’s revelation. In fact, I was so comfortable with this idol I believed it was “holy unto the Lord.” And perhaps if I did not spend so much time and energy devoted to this idol it would be. The idol—which is really an idealization of sorts—is not sinful in and of itself. But my devotion to it—obsession really—is.

So, what is this idol? My children’s success.

Long before Woody’s death, I spent the majority of my time trying to ensure the success of my children, which is not wrong. However, over the years, my idea of how success is defined has become an idol. I never wanted my children to make the same mistakes I did. I held their purity up to the world as a badge of success. “Look at my kids,” I seemed to gloat. “They will not date until they are ready to marry. They will not engage in illegal activity or addictive behaviors. They will never get a divorce. They will marry their one true love who will also be a committed, unadulterated Christian. They will remain pure in all ways because we have raised them in a Christian home and have prayed with and over them. We have covered them in prayer, which will shield them from ALL sinful activity. My kids are perfect!” I could not see how self-righteous and boastful my behavior was. I tried to shield my children from engaging in a sinful world by controlling who their friends were and where we lived. I was such a pompous ____ (you can fill in the blank)! I am sickened by my sanctimonious behavior! What was I thinking?

Actually, I know what I was thinking. I was thinking sin is a set of behaviors not recognizing that it is a heart condition. I should have been more concerned about my kids’ hearts than their actions. Trust me, I thought I was because I thought I had the whole parenting thing down to a science. I had read every book on biblical parenting, had attended parenting seminars, and had read the Bible in its entirety several times. I had a relationship with God and had been redeemed from a life of sin. But I was legalistic and hypocritical. I did not understand God’s grace and mercy. I did not understand the doctrine of sin. I did not recognize how sinful my legalism and judgmental attitude were. I had set up an idol in my heart which I would never recognize until it was smashed to pieces.

My children have made every mistake I did and then some. Divorce? That is on the horizon. Illegal behavior? Yep, that too. Addictions? Adultery? Lies? You name it and we’ll claim it. The perfect life I had dreamed for my children’s future has been completely obliterated. The idol of my heart has been revealed and continues to crumble as I type these words. All that time and energy I spent trying to perfect behavior should have been spent devoted to my God and trusting Him with the hearts of my children.

Since Woody’s death, God has slowly been revealing the nature of my heart to me, and this idol is part of the refining process I have been in since May 10, 2015. Although I am sickened by what I see I am also thankful. I know when all the dross is burned away my life will be a reflection of who God is. Yes, it is painful. Nevertheless, I praise God for answering my prayers even when I do not like what is revealed.

Self-Righteous Modern Day Pharisees: A Rant of Sorts

“Once we recognize the universality of sin, we stop trying to convince ourselves that we are good people; we stop trying to compute who is better than whom; and we fall helplessly at the feet of a loving Savior who graciously gives hope meaning, purpose, and peace.” –Mark R. McMinn

“Let him who is without sin among you be the first to throw a stone at her.” –Jesus

How many of you have cast a stone today? I know a few, but out of respect, I will not name them. It is no wonder so many people turn away from the physical church. We are judgmental and self-righteous. We arrogantly quantify and qualify sin until we have alphabetically categorized it. Anger? Everyone can justify that, especially if someone wrongs you. A lie is okay as long as your intentions are good, right? And pride? It’s called self-confidence. And then everyone knows that sexual sin is the worst!

What has become of the church? What happened to the collectivistic nature of sin? When God was dealing with the Israelites, if a few sinned they all suffered. Doesn’t that say something about the responsibility we have to our fellow believers to rescue them from sinful behavior? We cannot rescue them from sin, but we can give them love and encouragement and stand beside them and help them fight the battles of temptation. And when they do sin, should we stand back in judgment, condemning them with our self-righteousness? No! Do we let rage fill our hearts even if the person’s sin has wounded us deeply? No! Or are you the only person who has never harmed another human being through your actions? If so, then I guess you have the right to your anger and condemnation. However, the only person who truly never harmed another human being died to save us from condemnation. I doubt you are holier than that.

People, when will you realize that your self-righteousness is turning people away from a loving, forgiving God who sees us all the same? Benedict of Nursia stated it best in his seventh step of humility: “The seventh step of humility is when we declare with our tongue and believe in our inmost soul that we are the lowliest and vilest of all, humbling ourselves and saying with the Psalmist, ‘But I am a worm, and I am the reproach of all, the outcast of the people.’” That means all of us! You are no better than the murderer, the child abuser, the pedophile, the thief. God is holy and you are not. You can never live up to His standard. You will always fall short, which means you are condemned no matter what you do. However, God sent His son to save us from our sinful condition. And your self-righteousness is repelling the very people Jesus came to save.

My oldest son did something most will find vile, including me. However, I know I am just as vile because I am a sinner. At the time he needs the church the most, it has abandoned him because of the nature of his sin. Now, more than ever he is sick and needs the great Physician to heal his brokenness. Yet the people whom God works through have turned their backs on him. The very people who said, “We will always love you and be here for you,” left as soon as it got too hard and ugly. Sin is ugly—yours as well as mine—none of it is pretty. Jesus lived in our filth after knowing the glory of heaven. You don’t think that was difficult? But He knew He was here to heal the sick and broken. He didn’t sit in the synagogue and say, “Oh, I’ll pray for you,” or “Oh, I’ll send money or goods to those in need.” No, he rolled up his sleeves and loved in very practical ways. He did not abandon us.

I know we will live with this the rest of our lives, and I also know God is working through it. I know there are people who have never experienced the full revelation of grace and therefore, cannot give it. However, watch out. You will reach a point in life when you will need the grace you are not willing to give. Just know, I will still give it to you and so will God.

The Fifth Holiday Season

This is our fifth holiday season as a family of four. The fifth year we will sit around our oversized farm table with room enough for eight and realize one of those chairs will remain empty. The fifth year I will hang Woody’s stocking without stuffing it until it overflows with silly little gifts and his favorite treats. The fifth year…

Shouldn’t I be used to it by now? Shouldn’t I be over it? Maybe, but something about knowing this is the fifth time around the sun since our last holiday season with Woody makes it feel so final and devastating. I feel completely drained—exhausted, really—as we round the bend to another season of thanksgiving and joy.

Do not misunderstand me. I am thankful, and God’s joy fuels me daily. However, sometimes I am angry, angry at Woody for leaving; angry at the pain my children still endure; angry that my life is nothing like I envisioned it would be as I journey through middle-adulthood. So many transitions have occurred during 2019, and as 2020 begins to introduce itself I want to run and hide. I’m tired of trying.

Yet, during those moments of weakness, when my weary soul feels as if it cannot take another step, God gently lifts me from the floor into His loving arms and breathes into me the strength necessary for another day. And because He is faithful I know somehow, some way, we will survive the fifth holiday season

A Fatherless Father's Day

“How are you and the kids doing today?” It’s a valid question, but not one I want to answer.

“Fine,” I respond with a superficial smile, and then we part ways and no one feels awkward. No one feels as if he or she overstepped any boundaries. I know people are still concerned about how we are dealing with the fatal blow we received a little over four years ago. I know it takes a lot of courage to even broach the subject with us. I appreciate every person who remembers and doesn’t just smile and pretend it never happened.

It is difficult to explain how a fatherless Father’s Day feels. I lost my dad nearly eight years ago, and I still wish I could pick up the phone and call him. I miss his voice and his ornery smile.  I miss the love he had for me. And then I think of my children who lost the most amazing daddy I have ever known. They were still children. They had not had the opportunity to know him as an equal. They still needed a father to guide them through the adolescent years into adulthood.

I asked my oldest son today how he was doing. His response was, “I don’t miss dad any more one day over the next.” Perhaps not, but Father’s Day reminds us of our loss. I liken it to a world class soccer player who has had a foot amputated. He will always miss the loss of that foot. However, the loss is amplified every year as the World Cup approaches. That is when he faces the reality that he will never play again. A crucial part of the game has been painfully removed. Watching other players kick and volley is too much; especially when those players take for granted the blessings they still have.

If you still have your father, please do not take that wonderful gift for granted. Love fully everyday realizing life is a precious gift and you do not control when the game begins or ends. A fatherless Father’s Day reminds us all of what we had and what we have lost. So please, make that call or visit and treasure the time you still have.

On the Eve of Another Birthday

This morning I held my man child in my arms while he sobbed. “I’ll never get to do anything with my dad again,” he wailed as I tried unsuccessfully to soothe him. You see, tomorrow is Woody’s 47^th birthday, a day  we will not celebrate with him, just as we have not been able to celebrate his 44^th through his 46^th. The harsh reality of a life taken too soon slams us in the face every March 21, and there is no way to escape the pain. There are no justifications for a young man who was just a child when he lost his hero. There will never be an explanation good enough no matter how you wrap it up and redefine it. Yes, he has faith; and yes, he knows God is good, but this is not good. This aching for a daddy to help him find his way into adulthood is unbearable. I can offer little assistance in this area because I am not a man. Try as I might to be the best mother and father, I will always fall short. He needs his dad here, wrapping his strong arms around his shoulders and giving him advice about college, girls, and what the future might hold. I am inadequately equipped, I know that; and although I know God is on this journey with me there are moments when I feel terribly alone—moments like this morning as I watched my child sob.

But I continue on in faith, believing that someday this journey will not be so lonely and treacherous, believing that someday this heaviness will cease to exist and in its place peace will reside with comfort close by. Someday…we’re just not there yet.

The Top Five Things You Should Not Say or Do to Those Who are Grieving

I am frequently asked by others what they should say or do when a friend has lost someone to death. I thought it was time to make a list of my top five things not to say or do. I hope this helps those who are really concerned about supporting the grieving.

First and foremost put the idea out of your head right now that you can say or do something to remove the pain and heal the grieving person. You can’t. Your vain attempts may do more harm than good. So often individuals puffed up with self-importance believe they know exactly what to say and that their words will be the magic pill to swallow and eliminate all the pain. They are wrong. There is nothing anyone on this planet can do to remove that sort of anguish. The sooner you swallow your pride and realize that, the better. Your presence means more than 1,000 words. Care for the grieving person’s needs. Take them dinner. Run errands for them. Offer to stay with them through the night. Prove your concern through your actions.

Do not question the grieving person’s faith/spirituality. This is not the time to demonstrate your theological prowess and educate the person as to why their thinking is flawed. You are not the Holy Spirit, so quit trying to do His job. Trust God to work through the grieving process, and if there comes a time in the person’s life when he/she seeks your advice, give it humbly and sparingly, remembering how fragile the person is.

Do not avoid the person or act like nothing has changed when you do see him/her. EVERYTHING has changed! That person’s world will never spin on the same axis. Their foundation has crumbled. A grieving person questions everything that was ever known, every belief, and suddenly nothing can be trusted because he/she has learned that in a millisecond the whole world can come crashing down around you. If ever your friendship was needed it is now! Grieving people need to know that you can be trusted and you will be consistent. They need you to acknowledge the loss and ask questions about how they are coping in the moment. They need to know you care. I know it’s awkward, but trust me it’s a hell of a lot more than “awkward” for the grieving person. So, get over yourself and be the friend you have always claimed to be.

Do not EVER say, “I know how you feel” or any variation of that statement because you do not know how any other person feels! I don’t care if you have experienced the exact same type of loss in the exact same way. That is where the similarities end. People grieve uniquely based on biological, emotional, relational, spiritual, and intellectual factors. It is offensive to grieving people when you try to equate whatever experience you have had to theirs. Then you make it about you and your loss. For now, just listen and try to understand admitting you never will. You are not God, so give up.

Finally, do not try to rush grief. Do not get impatient when six months to a year someone is still hurting over the death of his/her loved one. It may take up to five years or longer before a grieving person begins to heal from grief. Now, if after two years there is absolutely no change, then suggest some type of grief counseling or group therapy and offer to go along for moral support. However, do not make the person feel like there is something wrong because he/she needs a little help processing the pain. Encourage them to realize little steps they have made towards recovery and be patient.

Remember, your friend may never be the same. Loss changes you. However, your friend will find a way back to you and your relationship. It just takes time. Although the loss seems like an event far in the past for you, for your friend it may feel like yesterday. Someday he/she will learn how to smile again and find joy in living, but right now it takes every ounce of energy just to breathe and do the next thing.

Come to Me...

“Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” –Jesus

I have read that verse a million times, especially during trials. After Woody died, I prayed those words repeatedly, begging God to give me rest. I was weary. I was burdened. I needed the comfort only Jesus could provide.

It is interesting that a more literal translation from the Greek is “Come to Me, all those laboring and being burdened.” How often do we labor through our suffering trying anything to relieve our pain? We self-medicate through substance abuse, relationships, shopping, work—whatever it takes to distract us from the unbearable heartache and affliction. And Jesus says all we need do is turn to Him and He will give us rest. It doesn’t mean He will remove us from our circumstances, but He will refresh our spirits and give us the strength to live another day. It doesn’t mean the pain will immediately subside, but He will expand our lungs to take another breath when the weight of our sorrow is crushing our rib cage. God’s mercy responds compassionately to the cries of the needy. It is an attribute of His infinite love. So why in the world do we keep laboring in an effort to stop the pain?

I could have taken a million avenues to escape the torment that resulted from Woody’s tragic death, and at times I was tempted. However, God gently reminded me of the easy route, the one that leads to Him and rest for my weary, grieving soul. No, it did not change my circumstances, and yes, it still hurt like hell; but I had a peace that gave me the strength to breathe through one more day and stand when I could not feel the ground beneath me. So today, if you are laboring in an attempt to “heal thyself,” stop and turn toward the only one who can refresh your soul.