It Isn't Fair...

Photo Credit: Morgan Nati

He stood there, amazed. Slack jawed and more than a little irritated; he was fuming! After a long day's work in the fields he was returning to bedlam. Where was his father? The revelers were dancing and playing instruments, the smell of roasted meat filled his nostrils and not far away a familiar but heartbreaking sound of a man's voice filled his ears. He pushed his way past the partiers, to find his brother seated with his father. Laughing and feasting he was wearing one of Father's finest robes over tattered rags and as his hand reached for another chunk of succulent meat he caught a glimpse of the ring as it shone in the firelight. A ring? The robe? Really? Fury began to build in his gut, fiery and acid with the taste of betrayal. As his father looked up and saw him, he spun on his heels. He couldn't stand it any longer - He had to get out of there before he exploded.

"Son?" His father caught up with him outside the large tent. "Won't you come in and celebrate with us? Your younger brother has returned! He is back!"

"How could you?" His heart pounded loudly in his ears, his chest near bursting with anger and humiliation. "How could you treat him like a king when you know as well as I do he was laying with prostitutes and wallowing with pigs? He wasted everything you gave him! Why on earth are you celebrating?"

"But he is back! Your brother is back - We had to celebrate!" His father looked genuinely confused.

"He doesn't deserve it. I never asked you for anything, yet he demands it all and you give it to him! You never threw me a feast for being the good son... It isn't fair!"

Have you been there? Have you ever watched as someone less deserving got the best piece of the pie? Have you ever wondered if there is justice in this world? I have. Many times. I have watched as our own family struggled, ate less than glamorously, didn't vacation, prayed as our business languished. I have looked up from the devastation that I felt and seen those that are so smug and wasteful, less than Christianly, prosper and flourish. I have watched as others enrich themselves on the soil of our despair... It was terrible. It was excruciatingly painful. It wasn't fair.

So where is God's justice? I mean, we hear about how fair He is and how He will be our ultimate Judge at the end of time. Does that mean that we don't get justice until then? We have to wait until the Rapture and return of Christ to see those that are undeserving get what's coming to them? Well, do we????

If I am waiting for that kind of justice, I hope to be waiting a very long time. I hope, for all of our sakes, that it is never fair.

God's love isn't built on justice. It isn't measured out in deserving spoonfuls based on what I have done for Him or how much I have tried to be a "good girl." Thank God for that! God's love - What we all crave whether we are aware of it or not - God's love is based in Mercy and Grace. I cannot earn it or achieve it. I can only ask for it. The very best part about having Him operate that way? If I ask for His love, genuinely and humbly, He will give it every time. Without fail, God will never deny me His love and His grace. That means no matter how ugly I have been, no matter how selfish, how hateful, how murderous my heart, God will always open His arms and welcome me back to His celebration. I am never turned from His table of plenty. He will never ask that I sit in the corner and watch as others eat. He always has my seat reserved for me.

I am comforted by that - for me. I don't much like it when I see others I judge as unworthy allowed the same grace. Why? Because my justice is skewed, my grace is nonexistent, I am without mercy in my heart. I am human. He is God. I look at the situation and want to view the repentance in action. I want to see that the person is really going to be sorry and change their ways. I look at the outward view of a man. God looks at the man's heart. He sees the repentance where it starts, He looks into the soul and judges there - There, where I cannot go.

It seems too easy, doesn't it? That someone can just say, "I'm sorry," to God and He accepts it without prejudice. It doesn't seem fair or right... It is the same with salvation. You don't have to DO anything. You only have to ask and viola! It is done for you. You instantly become a part of the family with all rights to inherit the kingdom of God. You would think that people would be signing up by the droves to get that kind of booty. They don't. It's too easy. Our human nature says there has to be some kind of ceremony, some sort of sacrifice...

The ease in which you and I are saved from an eternity of darkness came at a very high price, the ultimate in sacrifice. The only person to ever live this life without sinning (not even once) took all of it on for us. He did it all! Christ did everything we couldn't do, so that He could climb onto a cross and be covered in every sin - EVERY SIN - past, present and future! His own Father, who vows never to turn from us, turned from Him so that we could have it so easy.

I won't tell you that I don't struggle with the prodigal son thing... I won't tell you that I don't wonder at times why on Earth God allows such painful injustice to wallop me on the head and bring me low. I will tell you I get it. I get that God wanted it to be so easy that to not accept His love would be folly. I get that if I am allowed His grace for every nasty thing I have done and will do, I have to allow others the same process. God's love isn't fair.... And aren't I glad of that?! After all, I am the only one that stands in my way from attending the same feast - And if you know me, you know I rarely miss a party!

Be blessed... not fair.

Where the rubber meets the road

As I tried to put on my "mom's-in-control-and-there's-nothing-to-worry-about face, as I drove as slow as I could force myself to drive, as I turned on the radio and sang along to keep my jangling nerves from showing, I knew it was one of those moments. One of the times I talk about that God speaks into my soul and I'm expected to listen...

It had been a long five days. My son had come down with influenza B and I had been doing the best I could to juggle work, caring for a sick teen and prepping the Man for a road trip in a few days that would last more than a week.

The Boy had been having terrible bouts of stomach cramps in the night time hours and I was fried. I don't function on interrupted sleep and three nights of it plus the stress of getting enough liquid into a surly teen was taking a huge toll. I have to admit, when he walked into my bedroom doubled over in pain I responded in frustration. There is nothing as irritating to me as feeling helpless and that was exactly how I felt: helpless.

Nothing I was doing was helping my son. Food didn't alleviate the pain, we didn't have any Pepto (which I know now was a good thing), and it seemed to be getting worse. After probing with some pretty invasive questions about his bathroom activity I decided to call a helpline. Something was definitely off.

If you've ever called a nurses helpline you know they can be incredibly compassionate and caring. This was no exception. The nurse I had even went the extra mile when my phone cut out twice not to drop the call. She made a point to call me back and continue getting the information.

If you've ever made one of those calls you might also be familiar with the tone of voice they take when they become concerned. It's a very sunny, I-don't-want-to-alarm-you-but-crap-just-got-scary distinctness I've heard only a few times in my life. It was time to head to the emergency room and she wanted to know if I was ok with doing that or if she should call 911 for me... Uh... Wow. There just isn't anything like that kind if reality slamming head on into your night.

No, I said, I can take him. When she began asking me to confirm that my Boy was coherent, that his speech wasn't slurred and that he could walk on his own power to the car I knew we were on a time crunch and that losing my cool was not an option. Luckily, that kid is made of some pretty strong stock and we made our way to the car and out onto the night time roads.

While I had a suspicion of what we were dealing with I also knew my child was counting on me to maintain a sense of security. He was watching my every move looking for any reason to be concerned.

Normally I'm a basket case when it comes to the safety of my "chillins". I'm overdramatic, volatile and protective in the extreme. Lots of eye-rolling tends to accompany my tirades and plenty of, "oh mom!" This night there was something different. I had a peace surrounding me. I knew we were at the edge of a dangerous place, potentially in some serious trouble but I also knew, just as sure as I was sitting in that seat, that Jesus was along for the ride.

You can call me crazy, over zealous, delusional - whatever you want. I really don't care. How I reacted, the quick way we made it to the hospital, all the professionals involved who looked and actually listened to us... He was there.

Even after two days in the hospital and the Boy on his way to recovery from a stomach bleed that still isn't quite pinned down, I'm confident that Christ is with us here. We have very few answers and not a lot of direction but my heart is full and my head is clear. We are in the palm of His hand always. No matter the situation He is there. I don't know what the next report holds but things look hopeful for us. It could've been so much worse but thankfully it wasn't.

We are not done here yet. It takes way more time and patience than I think it should for the simplest of tasks. But I'm doing my best to relax into it. No matter what my day consists of, no matter how interrupted my routines become, God is still at the helm. Trusting Him will always be challenging for me but looking back on this week I know He's not done proving He's worth it.

When I'm tempted to question what God is doing, when I think I just want to know what His ultimate plan is, I hope I can conjure up this memory of being held right in the palm of His hand, cradled, loved and protected.

Thanks go out to everyone who's prayed with us for a speedy recovery. We continue to covet those prayers as we await discharge, whenever that might be.

Be blessed!

Pinterest is evil and other truths about me...

Pinterest is evil. Not because of its electronic nature, or because of its content. No, it is evil because it steals my time in huge chunks. I have a few interests that I love to cruise for, but mostly, when I am waiting in line or bored or just plain ignoring my to-do list I saunter through its maze of wonders in search of "Snark" that relates to me.

It is also something that God calls me to. No, not posting wildly inappropriate e-cards. That isn't what I mean. Sharing parts of me that are imperfect, flawed, sinful and snarky - That process is important to me, and believe it or not, it is important to God. He wants me to take myself less seriously, He loves to hear me laugh and He wants us to know that no one - NO ONE - deserves a pedestal. Well... Except for His son. But you know what I mean, right?

The thing about exposing one's flaws to the world and then laughing about it is simple. Once they are out there, flapping in the wind like so much excess skin on a running Bassett hound, they are much less powerful to our inner psyche. Once you share with the world that you are not the picture of perfection that you think you are (and yes, you are the only one who thinks it looks perfect), that Voice that taunts you inside, it loses its power over you. You become a lantern beaming out the rays of God's all-accepting love through all those holes of imperfection.

Today, I am thanking God for my struggles, for my sins, for the problems that won't leave my side. Those things, are great teachers of God's patient love. They remind me that I need Him, that He loves me despite of my awful behavior and the murderous thoughts I think in the post office Que. The flaws I have poke holes in the desire of the Enemy to keep my light under a basket. When I shine them forth, I steal his power over me and I fly in the face of my own pride. It also takes me down off my own rickety pedestal and puts me among those that need to know the love of God on a much more personal level.

Take a little time today to poke some fun at yourself. After all, you have a few hours to sink into the Pinterest-time-continum, right?

Do You See What He Sees?

I am a trouble maker. I am messy and fallen and all over the place emotionally. I am known to drop a cuss word, be mean-spirited, judgmental and vain. I am a wife, a mother, a daughter and a sister and I am a horrendous housekeeper. I am most of all a real life person.

I am a Christian.

I don't fit into the stark white, soft pillowed, hymns gently playing mold of Christian women I grew up thinking I should be. I am loud and I am colorful in bright hues of purple, orange and red. I am salty and spicy and full of things that are shocking and unwieldy. I embrace the youthful, loud and raucous. I enjoy singing off key at the top of my lungs, I dance exuberantly and let my kids see me cry.

I am a Christian.

I am not a Christ-follower because I am perfect, I am His because I am forgiven. I very rarely get it right. I am not His because I am worthy, or righteous or knowledgeable. It isn't about the things I do, it is about how much I love Jesus, how much I need Him, how much I desire to be His. I will never be perfected until I am seated with Him in Heaven. Until then, I will continue to live my life out loud, to shout out my joy and my angst, to dance in the streets and celebrate my freedom.

I am a Christian.

I will not ask you to follow me. I am not worthy of your adoration. I am just a person who loves knowing that God loves me more than anything in this world. Yup, He loves me best. He loves you best too... But I prefer to dwell on me. I will never be rid of my selfishness, though I try to keep it controlled. I refuse to hide my bruises, my scars and my ugliness because I know that if I did you might get the wrong idea. I want you to look at me in all of my brokenness and know that I am an example of how encompassing is God's love. He will not wait for me to wash, He will not leave if I am late. God loves me even before I love Him back. The truth is, if He can love me, He surely wants to love you too!