The Limited

I got to sit in on the filming of some promotional videos featuring our LIVE speakers. Now I know why the attendees from those conferences have such good things to say about them; Deb Bell’s second session was Oswald Chambers-esque. She responded to a question about coping with the homeschooled highschooler who feels like she’s missing out on the life in a traditional school setting. Deb shared a story from her own family which she prefaced with (something like) this, “You know, we often think of God’s blessings coming through the opportunities He opens up, but we need to help our kids see that sometimes, it’s the limitations which are the greatest gifts.” Just so you got it: Not always the successes, but also the limitations.

We watched a satirical biography in church a few months ago about a Christian named Kevin who is always happy as life always works out for him. For instance, though he lost his keys, in looking for them, he found a couple hundred dollars in the couch (and the keys, too). When times were tough at work, he not only kept his job but got a promotion. Kevin’s clouds are so silver-lined that he regularly has to polish them. The point of the video was that the Christian life isn’t always one of immediate blessing, that sometimes we don’t even see how things work out for the good and it is disingenuous to portray the Christian life as if we did.

I discussed that video with a friend this past Sunday. We affirmed that it would be wrong to deny the reality of prolonged aches and unanswered problems, but that it’s quite true that everything does work out for the good (cf. Rom. 8:28-30) - and we are the chief examples of this. We couldn’t have gotten into worse situations than to fall away from God and live in rebellion against Him, yet, here we are, bound for heaven and, ultimately, worked out for the good. I saw an image online today which said, “Everything works out in the end. If everything isn’t worked out, this isn’t the end.” It gives me hope that when my life includes a limitation or a loss, God may have the object of future thanks waiting within them.

I want you to read a prayer which was in my devotion yesterday. I say read it only because it’s quite a daunting series of requests and I’d hate for you to ask God for this sort of treatment without thinking about it. Nonetheless, it touches on powerful ways God uses even the worst things we can see, the worst things we can be, for the good of those who love Him. Pray it if you dare.

O persistent God,

deliver me from assuming your mercy is gentle.

Pressure me that I may grow more human,

not through the lessening of my struggles,

but through an expansion of them....

Deepen my hurt

until I learn to share it and myself openly,

and my needs honestly.

Sharpen my fears until I name them

and release the power I have locked in them and they in me.

Accentuate my confusion

until I shed those grandiose expectations

that divert me from the small, glad gifts

of the now and the here and the me.

Expose my shame where it shivers,

crouched behind the curtains of propriety,

until I can laugh at last

through my common frailties and failures,

laugh my way to becoming whole.

- Ted Loder, Guerrillas of Grace