Posts Tagged ‘acceptance of others’
No incomplete sentence, Pt. 1
Posted on: May 2, 2016
Anyone who sees me much knows I love wearing bling, especially earrings. I have dozens, of all colors and shapes, made of both common and exotic materials, for every season, and for every style of dress from casual to glitzy. I hate it when I lose an earring. Since my piercings are in matched sets, a single earring does me no good. The worth of any single earring is tied to having the other.
Sadly, too many folks think of people that way– that our worth lies only in our relationship to having some other person in our life, that without that “other” we are, in fact, incomplete.
Society certainly tends to see it that way. Whether having a bevy of beaus or a harem, serial monogamy, a long-term relationship, or marriage, the pressure to be with somebody is enormous. Sadly, the church, in its desire to hold up the value of marriage, is often little better. Remarks addressed in sermons to the adults in the congregation often assume, or at least infer, that “we’re all married – or will be.” Most churches don’t know what to DO with their singles once those singles get much beyond college age. Many churches’ singles’ groups function like a dating service. If an adult is possessed of at least reasonable intelligence, moderate abilities, pleasant personality, and is considered to have relatively pleasing looks, yet stays single, s/he will often face the question, “How come a wonderful chick/guy like you isn’t married?” – as if the only reason God would even MAKE such a person is for s/he to be married! Singles who don’t meet those criteria? Well, if they don’t marry, they are simply objects of pity, stuck forever in a “less than” life.
But it’s a lie. A bald-faced, straight-up, direct-from-the-Father-of-Lies-himself lie.
Way back in the very beginning, not long after God created Adam, observing Adam’s lack of true companionship, God said, “It is not good that man should be alone”, and the result was the creation of Eve. For many people, that passage is interpreted as a statement about the pre-eminence of the marriage relationship as critical for the full human experience. But pay attention to what God did NOT say. He did not say, “Oops! I left part of Adam out. I better make the rest of him.” God didn’t create Adam with a piece missing. Adam was alone, but he was not incomplete. Eve was to be Adam’s helper, his Ebenezer, his companion, but she was NOT his “finishing touch.” Adam was a whole person just as God made him. Eve was “bone of [Adam’s] bone and flesh of [Adam’s] flesh”, but although the process of her creation differed from Adam’s in that she wasn’t made “from scratch”, so to speak, she, nevertheless, was created a whole person in her own right. Both male and female were required for reflecting the full image of God. Companionship is required to experience the fellowship that exists in the Godhead – but just because the first man and woman married doesn’t mean that companionship can ONLY mean marriage.
Although the patriarchs of the Old Testament were (obviously!) married, we do not know the marital status of all of the O.T. judges and prophets; of those for whom there is no mention of a wife or children, it is reasonable to assume that at least some were unmarried. We know Jeremiah remained single because he was, in fact, expressly forbidden by God to marry. (Jeremiah 16:1 vv) John the Baptist did not marry. Jesus Himself, of course, did not marry. Only the marital status of a few of the apostles or men and women active in the ministry of the early church is referenced; it is more than likely that some of them were unattached. The greatest evangelist and writer of the major portion of the canonical New Testament, the apostle Paul, was single – and adamantly so! How ludicrous to think of any of these as somehow living only half-lives because of they were not “conjugally matrimonified”, as it is put in Pirates of Penzance.
It is interesting that Paul, though single, is one of the most eloquent writers about the marriage relationship. His instructions on marriage given in Ephesians were a radical departure from the cultural attitude of the time. His assertion that marriage is to be a reflection of the relationship between Christ and the Church elevated marriage to a high new spiritual plane. Yet even so, Paul made very clear that there is not a higher value in being married than in being single. Indeed, throughout I Corinthians 7, Paul’s preference is decidedly slanted toward singleness. (Note that this prejudice is predicated on a belief in the imminent return of Christ, however.) His strongest point in favor of being single is that it enables one to be focused solely on serving the Lord. If you’re married, decisions are a two-party process; if you’re single, you have only the Lord to consult. If you’re married, there are schedules to coordinate; if you’re single, there’s only ONE calendar. Singles have a freedom of time, emotional energy, and resources that married couples do not – time, emotional energy, and resources which they may devote to the Lord and His work.
I am thankful to have in my own family several wonderful examples of singles living full lives, both women and men, never married, divorced, or parted from their marital partner by death, who I have never seen repine over their status as singles and who have embraced the freedom of singleness to engage in ministry, formal and informal, that would have been difficult or impossible were they married. Any reading of missionary stories will likewise yield a plethora of examples. For some of these, singleness has been a deliberate choice, made early in life. For others, although they would not have objected to marriage, the opportunity just never came up. For others, it was a struggle, as they would very much like to have married. As did Paul, all of these singles grasped the understanding that both singleness and marriage are simply roles we may be called to play, and their contentment in singleness involved a willingness to accept whichever role God would call them to play: if to marry, then to marry, but if to be single, then to BE single – not consider themselves as simply in a holding pattern until “real life” – marriage – began.
Whatever roles God calls us to, His purpose for us is always the same: to conformed to the image of His Son (Romans 8:28-29.) He has promised that He has, does, and will continue to give us everything we need for this to be so. Ephesians 1:3-14 is just one passage expounding on those promises. We have been blessed with every blessing in the heavenly places, chosen before the foundation of the world, predestined for adoption, blessed with His glorious grace in the Beloved, redeemed through His blood, forgiven our trespasses, lavished with wisdom and insight that make known to us the mystery of His will. We have obtained an inheritance and been sealed with the Holy Spirit. Note not that a word of that carries a caveat, “ … – if you’re married, that is.” Roles are not our identity. Roles do not – indeed, cannot – complete us. Our completion is in Christ.
Not married? Then be “single-minded” and determine to fully exercise the completion experienced in Christ to bless the world in a way that only those with the freedom of the single can.
No one in Christ, married or single, is ever sentenced to an incomplete life.
On another note
Posted on: January 31, 2016
- In: Christian relationships | Christianity | church life | faith | freedom | worship
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Long, long ago at a college far, far away I got a degree in early childhood education. The idea of learning modalities was still fairly new – the concept of there being different ways that we learn. Most of us by now are quite familiar with the basic ones: auditory, visual, and kinesthetic. For centuries, teaching meant assigning rote memorization. Kids who could memorize well were smart; kids who couldn’t were dunces. That was simply how teaching – and learning – was done. The concept that people learn in different ways, and that each of those ways is perfectly valid, brought about a sea-change in the teaching profession; yes, the concept meant that ALL kids now had a greater chance of getting to learn, but it also meant that teachers had to learn how to TEACH differently, too. It takes a lot more effort to teach every lesson in multiple ways – especially in ways that the teacher herself may not relate to.
Something similar to this concept, applied to relationships, was introduced some years ago in a book by Gary Chapman called The Five Love Languages. The idea is that each person both perceives and expresses love in one of five “languages”. One is giving gifts, one is doing acts of service, one is speaking words of praise, one is spending time, and … I forget the other. (Must not be my language!) It is not the intention of expressing love that is most critical, but whether or not the object of that love actually perceives it as such. If your language is spending time, but someone instead gives you lots of gifts, you will not feel loved. Since we all tend to express love in the way we would most like to receive it, it takes effort to learn to recognize and appreciate love being expressed in ways other than our own language. The highest expression of love is to learn to speak another’s language, foreign to us as it may be.
All of which leads me to: worship music, of course.
A few months ago, our Sunday morning service was enlivened by the participation of the Spanish-speaking church that uses our building on Sunday afternoons. We combined our worship teams, singing songs in both English and Spanish. Those of us who understand both languages had a great time singing along with heart and soul. Those in the congregation who speak only one or the other language could enjoy any of the music, but they could join their voices and their “amen” only when the words were ones they could understand. God was just as glorified by any of it – but it was not the same worship experience for all. Single-language speakers were able to be fully engaged ONLY when the singing was in their own language. They spent the service alternating between being participants and being just an audience.
There’s a difference. Perhaps sometimes when people say they don’t get anything “out of” a particular style of service, what they really mean is that they don’t feel like they are able to put anything IN to it because it’s not in their “language”, as it were. They may go about expressing that disconnect in a manner that is not helpful, but simply dismissing them isn’t the answer. We accept individuality in virtually every other area of life. Why not in worship, as well? Why are we so afraid of, or dismissive of, or angry about, the fact that not everyone finds every worship song or worship style to be something that they can be fully engaged in???
Worship is about God, it’s true – but worship is not some disembodied, amorphic activity that somehow takes place without involving the participation of the worshipper. A bow may be used to play a snare drum, but the sound will hardly compare with the rich tones that same bow will obtain when used to play a violin. Drumsticks may tap on a saxophone, but you’ll get better music by blowing into the mouthpiece. We worship most fully when we worship as God, in His infinite creativity, designed us, with all the individuality that may entail.
What if we approached corporate worship like a classroom teacher whose focus is on helping the greatest number of students understand the lesson – turning our focus to trying to enable the greatest portion possible of our congregations to have some opportunity to be fully engaged in worship? No congregation can be all things to all its members, but surely many of our congregations can do better.
It’s hard, because it means giving consideration to ALL of the “each others” in our congregations. It requires humility by all involved, because love does not demand its own way. Those in the majority need to be willing to go out of their comfort zone in order to give others some opportunity to speak their own worship language. For those in the minority, while it is perfectly appropriate to ask for an opportunity for their worship needs to be met, no matter what the answer is, they should be prepared to do whatever they can to support the majority in their worship. We thus can express our love for God – can glorify Him – can worship Him – in honoring each other’s worship language.
Paul told the believers in Rome, in chapter 14, “One person esteems one day as better than another, while another esteems all days alike. Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind. The one who observes the day, observes it in honor of the Lord. The one who eats, eats in honor of the Lord, since he gives thanks to God, while the one who abstains, abstains in honor of the Lord and gives thanks to God. For none of us lives to himself, and none of us dies to himself.”
It’s all about our heart for each other. We can’t worship God in Spirit and in Truth while we’re cold-shouldering each other over whose music or style is the most God-centric or most Spirit-ual or most Truth-full.
We may worship the Lord with old traditional hymns accompanied by a single piano, or with a modern worship song consisting of two verses, a chorus, and a bridge, all repeated a dozen times, accompanied by a full rock band at volumes that could be heard over a jet engine. We may sing only Psalms, and acapella at that. We may use hymnbooks or three-story-high big screen projections. We may lift our hands and dance and clap, or we may sit sedately. There is no one “right” way to worship, but tearing each other down, and disrespecting each other’s worship language is most certainly wrong.
To God be the glory – no matter what worship we use!
Letting Not Normal Be Normal
Posted on: November 8, 2015
First, a word to all who read this blog. I started this blog mostly as a way to get all the words that kept tumbling ‘round and ‘round inside my head OUT of my head. I knew my mom would read my posts and probably share the blog with her friends, if only because her “baby” wrote it – moms are like that. I expected that some of my friends would read it because, well, they’re my friends, but I honestly wasn’t sure what to expect as to whether anyone ELSE would consider it worthwhile to read. It is validating, exhilarating, frightening and humbling to find that there are those who do. For each of you, I am grateful. If you like any post, the greatest compliment you can pay me is to share it with others, whether by FB, email, or print. (However you share it, please include the link to the blog site and my name as author.) A word of thanks also to all of you who have sent or said words of encouragement. I treasure them. If you particularly like some point, or especially if you particularly disagree with some point, or question a conclusion, please do comment. I would love for this to be more interactive and less of a monologue. Now on to the post….
A few months ago there was a letter to the editor in our local paper complaining about people in parking lots who take handicapped parking places. The writer wasn’t complaining about cars without a handicap license plate or without a placard hanging from the rearview mirror. No, she was complaining about those who HAVE those legal permissions but who “obviously” are healthy enough that they don’t NEED to use those parking places.
This isn’t a new accusation to those guilty of that “crime.” Although they are occasionally accosted directly in parking lots, more often they find themselves the recipients of dirty looks or nasty notes left on their windshield – or are the target of letters to the editor. The frustration is that heart conditions such as congestive heart failure, lung conditions such as cystic fibrosis, muscle conditions such as fibromyalgia, joint conditions such as arthritis, along with many other conditions, can result in a severe limitation on stamina qualifying a person to use handicapped parking, but none affect the physical appearance. Sometimes people end up not using the space they are legally entitled to use, no matter what it costs them physically, because they get tired of people accusing them. It’s just easier to pretend to be what people assume you are.
Recently, I have talked with both the middle school and high school youth groups at church about my journey with The Monster, from the depression that started in high school to my diagnosis with bipolar in 2010, what life has been like since and what the future likely holds. I did a FB post about having to up my bipolar meds and asking friends to please clue me in if they notice anything amiss. In all the cases, I received statements of commendation for speaking so candidly, for being “open” and “vulnerable”. I appreciate the intention of being supportive and encouraging. I do, truly.
Yet the fact that my speaking of these things is deemed to merit such note is … sad. It should not have to TAKE courage to speak up about being mentally ill. Taking head meds should require no more self-consciousness than does taking insulin. But the fact is that we mentally ill often feel that pressure to appear “normal” because we LOOK normal. We can be afraid to “confess” our not-normalness and be moved from the “us” category to the “them”.
I have a laundry list of physical problems – hypothyroid, fibromyalgia, migraines, to name just the ones readers are most likely to be familiar with. I have had 13 major surgeries, I lost count of the MRIs, CTs, X-rays and ER visits years ago. I have had a number of rare conditions pop up. If there’s a highly unlikely way to react to a drug … I’ll do it. (Do NOT tell me odds, please – my body takes it as a challenge!) I have to take a whole pile of pills a day to stay functional. I speak of these conditions without hesitation because they are my physical reality. I speak freely of my mental illness because it is just as much my physical reality.
In our society, though, this speaking of mental illness that casually is still uncommon enough that it gets noticed. Sadly, our churches are often no better than society when it comes to being places where mental illness can be disclosed and discussed with the same freedom and compassion that physical illnesses are. In some ways, churches can be even worse, because not only may mental illnesses be misunderstood, they are often misunderstood in a manner that blames the victim: to wit, if we just prayed properly, or trusted God better, or turned our troubles over to God more completely – if somehow we just did something “right”, if somehow we were better Christians, we wouldn’t be sick. It’s the ultimate betrayal of compassion.
The fact is that while mental illness PRESENTS behaviorally, it is in origin an actual physical problem. The brain is broken, wired wonky, chemically imbalanced so that certain areas of the brain are overactive while other areas are underactive. Some neurons are firing grapeshot, others blanks, while others are jammed. There are lapses in the synapses. Mental illness can no more be willed away than can diabetes. It can no more “faithed” away than ALS. One can no more reason a way out of it than one could reason a way out of anaphylactic shock. We mentally ill are generally the last to recognize what is going on with us – if we are even able to at all ; even if we are able to recognize it, we are still trapped by it. An epileptic doesn’t stop taking her medication when her seizures are under control because she is able to reason that without the medication’s influence, the seizures will return. We mentally ill may stop taking our meds once the symptoms are under control because our disease prevents us from grasping the fact that it is ONLY the medication that is keeping the disease at bay, not that WE are “better.” We are at the mercy of a disease for which there may be treatment, but for which there no cure. This is our frightening reality.
So how does a congregation foster an environment of openness where those with mental illness need not fear speaking freely about it? First, we can start with the way we deal generally with negative emotions – sadness, “the blues”, non-clinical depression, anxiety. If we are a safe place for expressing these, we will be – or can easily become – a safe place for being open about mental illness as well. We can listen without criticism and validate feelings – that is, let people feel what they feel and be honest about it. For example, say someone comes to church in a very blue phase, is asked, “Hey, how’s it going?”, and gives an honest answer. A cheery, “Oh, come on, things can’t be THAT bad!” or “Smile, Jesus loves you!” or “Just think about all the blessings God has given you!” or a recitation of the things the responder does to cheer themselves up, all these, while certainly intended for good, actually send the message “You are not allowed to be anything but happy at church” – the antithesis of openness. Responses such as, “I’m sorry to hear you’re feeling so sad”, or “That must be hard on you”, or “Then I’m extra glad you came today” sends a message that it’s ok to “come as you are.” We can go beyond assuring someone “I’m praying for you” to asking them if there is something specific we can pray about, making a very personal effort to connect. (And it certainly helps build that connection if we remember the next time we see the person to ask about that prayer item!)
Going farther, the pastor at my current church speaks frankly of his father who committed suicide twenty years ago. Pastor Brian also has had various congregation members share with the congregation their own stories of struggling with depression; as I mentioned, our youth pastor has done likewise. (I am only one of those who spoke.) THAT is fostering openness. At one church, we had a mentally ill homeless man who came regularly who sat in the front row and spent most of his time rocking rapidly into a deep bow back and forth. Sometimes he talked to himself. There were occasional complaints about him being “distracting”, and there’s no denying his activity was outside the sanctuary standard norm, but the majority of the congregation welcomed him anyway. Someone would always sit by him to calm him if his agitation reached extremes. Members would greet him by name after the service. THAT is fostering openness. One member there had a mental breakdown and spent 6 weeks hospitalized in the psych ward. When she came back, people didn’t avoid her in embarrassment, but simply welcomed her back as from any other hospitalization, with loving concern and care. THAT is fostering openness. Any time we educate ourselves so that we are prepared better for how to respond to or deal with people with mental illness, any time we acknowledge our lack of knowledge but express our desire to better understand, we are working to create an environment of openness.
When we acknowledge the reality of mental illness as matter-of-factly as we do that of physical illness we move one step closer to letting not normal be normal.
We can all be of One Mind – even if some of us are “out” of ours.
I Should’ve Known
Posted on: October 4, 2015
- In: Christianity | fai | forgiveness | freedom | intentional living | self-image
- 1 Comment
Anyone who knows the family in which I grew up knows that we place a high value on learning. We each may have our varying areas of stronger interest, but all of us are always on the prowl to increase the depth and breadth of our knowledge. That’s probably part of why three of us chose to homeschool our kids – it meant WE got to learn so much! (And here you thought homeschooling was about the children…)
In my junior high and high school years, I was terrifically lonely because of the cultural situation in which we were living, but although I wasn’t pretty and I couldn’t be popular, I found my place in being a useful resource. I didn’t “belong” to any group at high school, but I was accepted in any circle. I was always ready to help with homework or explain things the teacher left unclear (in anything but math, at least!) I read the newspapers and watched TV news, so was well up on what was going on in the world. I was also likely to know the real story about all kinds of things that were going on at school – such as when a “fire drill” was actually a locker search – because when you’re a “good student”, trustworthiness is assumed as a given. At the itty-bitty church we attended, I wasn’t afraid of debating with adults; because of my family background, it wasn’t uncommon that I knew as much or more than those adults did of the Bible or doctrine. I learned that knowledge can make you feel important, and that it makes a great defense against feeling vulnerable and worthless, and when necessary, it serves as a powerful offensive weapon as well.
Not that I thought of it in those terms, of course. That understanding came only after years of analyzing the experience of those painful years. Hurray for me, right? I figured my long-ago self out. Yeah, well …. In these last months, pondering the questions I mentioned previously (“Am I making myself the hero of my own story?” and “Who have I thrown under the bus?”), God has been forcing me to look under some rocks in my soul, and I’ve found some rather unpleasant bugs hiding out that try to scurry away from the light.
Proverbs 27:9 says, “Oil and perfume make the heart glad, and the sweetness of a friend comes from his earnest counsel.”
I got to have lunch with my bestie the other day. Lynda and I met in college in … 1980 (yikes!) … and for all but the five years she spent in China we have lived within a couple of hours of each other ever since. We dined on the wooden deck of a restaurant over the waters of Puget Sound in Tacoma – beautiful, hot, sunny day – light, fresh breeze – oh, yeah, bring it, baby! (A mojito would have been perfect, but, alas, I had to drive home, so I had to stick to an unleaded version.)
Lynda is a “safe” person for me – that is, I know she will listen with respect, answer honestly (if an answer is needed), and will never look down on me for or be shocked by anything I tell her. As we talked, I shared how God has been using the conference and some books I’ve been reading to bring me to face up to some very unpleasant facts about myself. Lynda settled in to her usual “I’m here for you. Tell me.” posture, and I proceeded. “I have realized that most of the time, I really hate to admit when I don’t know something. If I’m talking about a subject that I only know a little about, I may talk as if I know more than I do. Or if the other person assumes I DO know, I let them go on assuming. I always want people to think I DO know.”
Her response was not the gentle, sympathetic one I expected. No “Wow, that must be hard for you to admit.” Or even better, “I’ve never thought of you that way.” Nope. She leaned back in her chair and let loose a whoop of laughter! “Oh, Susie, honey, all your friends already know that about you – but we love you anyway!”
It was disconcerting, to say the least. Deflating. Embarrassing! Here I thought I was unveiling a dark facet of myself, only to find that I was the last to see it. I told a joke, but the audience already knew the punchline. Talk about feeling painfully, pitifully, pathetically comical.
Yet, ruminating on it more, I think that Lynda’s response to my “revelation” was a picture of God’s response to us. We dither and dodge and delay until at last we come to Him and do the Big Reveal, confessing the sins and shortcomings we have recognized in ourselves – only to find that He knew what was behind the curtain all along and had just been waiting for us to get our blinders off and recognize it, too. I daresay He sometimes gets a chuckle out it just as my friend did. He – our Friend – already knows about us, but He loves us anyway. He is not reluctant to associate with us because of our imperfections. He never says, “WELL, if I’d known THAT about you, I certainly wouldn’t have been willing to die for you!!” Seriously, what kind of God do we take Him for?
God keeps turning up the magnification and showing me just how many ways I still use knowledge as a barrier and a defense. I admit I’m still twisting uncomfortably in my seat at my confession about it, bad enough to Lynda, downright terrifying in this public format, but the point isn’t about me and my frailties. It’s about God and His generous grace.
“Dear silly child, I’m your Friend, and I’ve always known that about you – but I love you anyway!”
Being just like our Father
Posted on: June 21, 2015
- In: Christianity | church life | family | intentional living
- 1 Comment
One of the interesting things coming out of dealing with my mom’s death is the revelation of just how different experiences with/perceptions of our parents were/are among my siblings and me. With a ten year age span between the five of us, several different living locations during our growing up, and, of course, our very different personalities and needs, it isn’t any wonder that such differences exist – indeed, it would be unbelievable if they did not – but knowing that these differences must exist and coming face to face with them in reality …. Somehow they still can be surprising. Even though our dad died 24 years ago, I’m still learning new things.
One of the things that came up in these last months has to do with fixing things. We always said my dad could fix anything. My dad disagreed; some things, he insisted, were not worth fixing! Honestly, though, he was one of those amazing guys who can seemingly do anything in the handyman line. I saw him take apart and put together countless kinds of appliances and toys; more often than not, that alone would restore them to working order without him even having to figure out what had been wrong in the first place. He did all our home maintenance and repair. At one house he enclosed the carport to create extra rooms; at another he finished the basement AND added on a huge garage and a workshop for himself. Once he retired, he parlayed his skills into a handyman business, under which flag he expanded into even more projects. I’m not sure if there was anything he was totally unwilling to tackle, though if electronics got too complicated, he’d bow out.
Because of my Daddy, I am pretty fearless when it comes to taking things apart. As he always said, “If it’s already broke, I can’t make it not work any worse.” If I already can’t use something, I’ve got nothing to lose by trying to fix it myself – especially if it’s something that it won’t be worth paying someone else to try to fix, if that’s even possible! I know if something was put together, it can most likely come apart; you just have to try to figure out which was the last screw, or the last tab. I can hear my dad’s voice as I work, “OK, lay everything out in the order you remove them, then just work backward from there to put it back together.” I can look at gears and latches and movements and more often than not figure out how the thing is supposed to work. I can read a user manual and identify parts. (Yes, my dad actually read directions!) My mom and at least one or two others of my sibling have said the same thing about hearing my dad’s voice as they go along on a project. A few months ago, one of my other brothers made the point that he does NOT. In fact, he doesn’t understand why we DO.
As I thought about it, I was struck by the realization that I didn’t get any of what I just talked about because Daddy TAUGHT it to me. Although he probably thought he did, the fact was, Daddy didn’t TEACH. He might show us – “OK, do this-this-this-this-then-this and there you’re all done” (like my one and only lesson in changing a tire) – but he didn’t take us through step by step and have us do it. Because he had come by his skill naturally and had had plenty of opportunity to gain experience on his dad’s ranch growing up, I don’t think he ever quite understood how unusual he was; I think he expected that of course we kids – especially the boys – would know how to be handy with tools simply because HE was. (When I married a man whose own dad had been, um, the antithesis of my own in that regard, my dad made allowances and did make a point of working WITH my dh to teach him skills, a blessing from which our family continues to benefit.)
I didn’t learn from Daddy how to fix things, but somehow I managed to absorb an attitude from him that I COULD. Yet my brother was left with neither. There are other attitudes I absorbed that have had a far less positive influence, but that escaped my siblings’ notice altogether. Of both my father and my mother, we find ourselves asking one another, “Where did you get THAT??” or saying, “Boy, I sure didn’t see it that way.”
Is it any wonder, then, given how amazingly individualistic we kids are in how we react to our earthly parents growing up, that we are so individualistic in how we perceive God? We believers read the same Word, yet how differently we may interpret it! We worship the same Lord, yet relate differently to His holy character. We come to God from such different experiences and different paradigms, such different expectations, fears, hopes, and longings that we should not wonder that we sometimes ask each other, “Where do you see THAT in Him? I’ve never felt like that.”
Unity in the Spirit doesn’t make us like each other; it makes us like the same God. However, because our God is so diverse and beyond our comprehension – the Great Both/And, the Great Contradiction, Who Makes Exist What Does Not – being all like Him we end up as different from each other as can be. No other believer will ever be able to relate to God as I do. There is a facet of God’s image that only you can connect with.
I see my mom and dad more clearly now that I am learning to see them through my siblings’ eyes. In some ways, I continue to hold to my own perception, but I have learned to fully acknowledge the validity of theirs, no matter how different from mine. It would be so sad if any of us tried to deny family identity over those differences. In the same way, we should value those in God’s Family whose perceptions differ from our own and be willing to consider theirs. We don’t necessarily have to adopt those perceptions, but we should acknowledge their validity. Worst of all would be for us to attempt to disown others from the Family simply because they experience the Father differently, have learned some different lessons, see His world through different eyes.
Whom God has called His child is my brother, my sister. We all bear the same family name. May we all be our Father’s children in word and deed.
the susie solution 