A Piece of Kake

I only wish the title was truer for me. Last night I traveled to Columbus to hear the great Ralph Ankeman teach a Love Ethics class. After Dar called to invite me I was so excited to see this legendary figure who counseled the venerable Katey Downs, who in turn helped disciple our fearless leader, Keith McCallum. What an example of real spiritual significance.

Dr. Ankeman, a medical student-turned-missionary who now practices biblical love therapy in a secular psych ward, did not disappoint. He began on a note of wonder: “How closely the gospel of Christ fits the way human beings are,” he reflected. His teaching, at once quirky, comical, and insightful, was brimming with stories and examples illustrating the application of biblical love rules. The rule that stood out the most to me is that “I can’t make you do anything, but I can tell you what lies within my power to do.” For example, I can’t make you stop neglecting your kids, but I can call child services, as painful as that might be for me.

Keith’s teaching was equally good, if somewhat shortened for the sake of time. He’s updated the material a bit to clarify the concepts of fences and gates. But I think he’s writing an article on it, so I’ll save the details for now. I’ll just say his teaching got me thinking about what God is showing me about other people. I tend to be very negative about, well, everything, and my negatively quickly escalates into judging others. “Why can’t they just get it together?” I wonder. Keith’s teaching offered an interesting possibility. Perhaps it’s my own heart that’s getting in the way of others’ growth.

What an odd, counter-intuitive thought. And it must be rightly understood. I can’t make anyone do anything, as stated above. But if I’m seeking to help someone, and yet judging them at the same time, is it not reasonable that God would withhold insight from me regarding the other person? If I’m seeking to motivate someone’s change for impure reasons, perhaps to bolster my reputation or just because her sin annoys me, it makes sense that God would not honor my efforts. But when I sincerely want to help that person only for her own sake, it then becomes safe for God to reveal her heart to me, thus showing me how to spur her on toward love and good deeds, as Hebrews 11:24 says.

I feel like God is showing me things about “what lies beneath the surface” of my old home church and my new cell group. I don’t know exactly what to do about it; no doubt my heart needs further purifying. But I did not sleep well after my return from Columbus. I felt like God was laying burden after burden upon me. I arose this morning feeling weighed down and a bit confused. What did God want me to do with all of it? My first response is to worry, and I set right to work with an ever-hardening knot in my stomach.

But I knew this wasn’t right, or pragmatically helpful. After all, Jesus said his yoke is easy and his burden is light. As I started to trust God one worry at a time, I realized God showed me these concerns not to weigh me down, but bring treacherous undercurrents to light. I know I’m not the only one with these insights, as many of them were gathered from conversations with others. I’m not special. I’m just convicted. And my practical nature is itching to do something about it, and there will be plenty of time for that. But I won’t know what to do unless my heart is right.

And that’s the last point I wanted to comment on. Of course with all the heart-clarifying, there will always be a measure of sin this side of paradise. God in his grace grants us revelation even in our imperfection. But the clearer the heart, the clearer our spiritual eyes: “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face; now I know in part, but then I will know fully just as I also have been fully known” (1 Corinthians 13:12).

Dennis closed the 2007 Xenos Summer Institute with a teaching called “Cultivating a Tender Heart.” It’s worth listening to (http://www.xenos.org/xsi/resources.htm#2007) and/or reading his paper (http://www.xenos.org/essays/tender_heart.htm) by the same title. It’s been over a year since I’ve done either, but the theme strikes me as increasingly relevant: in ministry we face the paradox of loving people with the hope that God will change them, but we also know they may choose to reject God and us. Even with a disciple it’s possible to invest deeply and sacrificially for years, only to lose them to a person, a job, or a drug. It’s a painful reality and especially tempts seasoned workers to hold something back—namely, their hearts. What does that look like? The leader might give of time, knowledge, prayer, and counsel, but ultimately their efforts lack zeal because they are afraid of being hurt. The less compassion and vulnerability are developed in the friendship, the less will be lost if the person forsakes their walk with God. So the thinking goes. Yet the Bible calls for something quite different:

“Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins” (1 Peter 4:8).

I periodically (at least once a week) dive into the depths of my melancholy nature and revel in the misery and fear of historic and potential losses. First it was Missy, then Kay, then Jen. Now I fear the same for Yana. And I start naming a handful of people who might be next. I don’t want to care about them, I conclude. It’ll hurt too much later on.

But then I remember how much God has been hurt by humanity. Think of all the times people turned their back on God. There was the Garden of Eden incident for starters. He must have been profoundly grieved, as well as wondering, “What exactly did you think I meant by ‘If you eat of it, you will surely die?’” And He didn’t flood the earth because people were thriving spiritually. Nor did He confuse the languages at Babel because people were building a tower to honor Him. Abraham’s naughty little scheme for baby-making without his decrepit wife wasn’t exactly godly, either, but God still came through on his promise when Abraham repented. Jacob was a complete con artist but he still secured God’s blessing.

Then there’s Moses, a nasty combination of murderer and whiner, but God miraculously led the Israelites out of Egypt with him as their leader. Speaking of Israel and whiners, God’s chosen people always promptly forgot how God provided for them and bowed down to stupid wooden lawn statues instead. God repeatedly mourns their unfaithfulness, comparing them to a wife who committed adultery again and again. But He kept taking them back, picking them up and dusting them off through forgiveness and healing. David was a total macho-man idiot, what with the womanizing and husband-killing, but God used him because he was “a man after God’s own heart.” The list goes on and on, with Israel the star idiot of the Old Testament drama. But God never gave up, reneged on His promises, or withheld His love.

And then I remember how much God has been hurt by me. I’m a star idiot, too. From the sinful state I was born in to my fear and negativity, to the daily sinful thoughts and motives I’m not even aware of, He has plenty of reason to write me off. Yet He pursues me with lovingkindness just as He did with Israel. I didn’t go looking for God. He was looking out for me. He tracked me down and drew me to Himself. It had nothing to do with me or my goodness. There is nothing good about me (Isaiah 64:6), but He wants me anyway.

How heartbreaking God’s hurts must be; how agonizing to endure. And I complain when I lose a disciple or two, whom I didn’t love nearly as well as God loves me. While it’s worth mourning the loss of those friends I can’t let that change how I love the people God’s put in my life right now. I want to cultivate the tender heart He has displayed through Scripture and in my relationship with Him. It’s a heart that continues to love even in the face of betrayal and unfaithfulness. It’s a heart that loves boldly, relentlessly, tenderly, and patiently. It’s a heart that pursues, initiates, chases down the people who so desperately need Christ’s healing love. That’s what it means to “love one another as I have loved You” (John 13:34).

Have you ever prayed for brokenness, that painful process that reduces the flesh so the Spirit can shine forth? It’s a scary prayer because you know God will answer it, and it won’t feel good when He does.

I prayed for God to break me of my pride earlier this summer. I prayed I would not become a comfortable Christian. Even as I wrote the words in my prayer journal, I shuddered to think of what the answer might look like. Perhaps I would fail miserably in ministry, lose someone close to me, or be called to missions in a dangerous country. Part of me thought it would be awful if God allowed those things to happen, but at the same time I knew God was wise and loving. I struggled to accept that God is not a God of comfort, but He always knows and wants what’s best for us.

So how did He answer? For now He’s placed me in high school ministry, with a large cell group of some highly damaged girls. This certainly wasn’t the answer I expected, but the breaking has already begun. And despite my best prayer-journal intentions, I wriggled and writhed at the first sign of suffering. I cried through a couple weeks, alternating between acceptance and despair at my situation. It wasn’t that I didn’t like the girls or the ministry. But I felt overwhelmed, inadequate, and under-supported. I was shocked at my own immaturity, which hadn’t surfaced so blatantly when I was comfortable in my previous roles.

God was hammering away at my heart of pride, self-dependence, and fear. I felt awkward and uncomfortable when I stepped outside of the tribe of my old home church. God was answering my prayer, but it felt like He was hanging me out to dry, setting me up for failure. I couldn’t have been more wrong. He came in with support and new plan for the girls’ cell group leadership. The work has just begun, both in ministry and in my heart. I’m sure I’ll resist the Surgeon’s healing incisions again, but hopefully I give Him enough room to work.

The process of the “breaking of the outer man for the release of the Spirit,” (Watchman Nee), reminds me of a poem called “Batter my Heart.” It’s by John Donne, the 18th-century metaphysical poet of “no man is an island” fame. I’ve updated the spelling to make it more readable:

Batter my heart, three person’d God; for, you
As yet but knock, breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow me, and bend
Your force, to break, blow, burn and make me new.
I, like an usurp’d town, to another due,
Labor to admit you, but Oh, to no end,
Reason your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captiv’d, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth’d unto your enemy:
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again;
Take me to you, imprison me, for I
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.

John Donne, my poet-hero

The imagery is startling: first Donne’s heart is like a castle door which He asks God to charge with a battering ram so he can be healed. He says if he takes a stand on his own, God should overthrow Him with force in order to make him into the new creature God wants him to be. The means he suggests—breaking, blowing, and burning—all sound painful. Donne compares his heart to a town where he’s unfairly taken control; it rightfully belongs to God. He’s trying to let God rule, but his mind struggles to believe and therefore admit the true King. And yet he knows his thinking is weak, false, and easily held captive.

Donne experiences the human tension of loving God and wanting God’s love, even as he plays the harlot with the devil. He asks God to break his bonds with the devil and make him God’s prisoner instead. Until then, Donne realizes he can’t be free, since humans by nature are not independent beings. The last line is scandalous, but rounds out the metaphysical conceit of being betrothed to the devil: he can never be pure until God has full power over him, penetrating every area of his life.

Of course the Bible has much to say on the topic of how God batters our hearts and “ravishes” us. First, He can show us our sin more clearly, thus leading us to repentance and the new and living way:

“Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me and know my anxious thoughts;
And see if there by any hurtful way in me,
And lead me in the everlasting way.”
-Psalm 139:23, 24

Sometimes breaking requires more than a glimpse of our sin nature. Hebrews explains that God, like any good father, disciplines in love:

“My son, do not regard lightly the discipline of the Lord,
Nor faint when you are reproved by Him,
For those whom the Lord loves He disciples,
And He scourges every son whom He receives.”
-Hebrews 12: 5, 6 quoting Proverbs 3:12

We are encouraged to endure God’s discipline “so that we may share His holiness” (Hebrews 12:10b). As Keith taught recently, we cannot gain substance in the Christian life until we’ve grown beyond the “American way” of comfort, rights-thinking, and instant pleasure. Like an Olympic athlete, we cannot hope to win the race Paul speaks of (2 Timothy) without serious training and endurance. Everyone knows “no pain, no gain” is true. The Bible concurs:

“All discipline for the moment seems not to be joyful, but sorrowful; yet to those who have been trained by it, afterwards it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness.”
-Hebrews 12:11

In our fallen world, suffering is inevitable. The question is not whether we’ll suffer, or even how much, but if we’ll allow God to use it for good in our lives. In the midst of intense, life-threatening persecution, Paul kept perspective on the relative values of temporal comfort versus eternal reward:

“Therefore we do not lose heart, but though our outer man is decaying, yet our inner man is being renewed day by day. For momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal.”
-2 Corinthians 4:16-18

Paul could rejoice in physical and emotional pain because God was using it to grow his spirit, the inner man. Peter agrees earthly suffering is worthwhile in light of the substance our faith gains now, and the eternal glory of heaven:

“In this you greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials, so that the proof of your faith, being more precious than gold which is perishable, even though tested by fire, may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.”
-1 Peter 1:6, 7

I’m still a sissy when it comes to suffering, but I’ll continue daring to pray for brokenness.

According to the Chicago Tribune’s feature on Christianity in China, “Christian churches, most of them underground, now have roughly 70 million members, as many as the [Communist] party itself.” Today the Chinese church is among the fastest-growing in the world, and it is safe to call this an outgrowth of Hudson Taylor’s pioneer missions work spanning the latter half of the 19th century.

Though his methods were brilliant and biblical, it was Taylor’s character that sustained his work and led to fruitfulness during continual “conflicts without, fears within.” At the heart of his maturity was his “spiritual secret.” Far from the esoteric enigmas of Gnosticism, his secret is found plainly in Scripture:

“Now on the last day, the great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried out, saying, “If anyone is thirsty, let him come to Me and drink. He who believes in Me, as the Scripture said, ‘From his innermost being will flow rivers of living water.’” But this He spoke of the Spirit, whom those who believed in Him were to receive; for the Spirit was not yet given, because Jesus was not yet glorified.” (John 7:37-39)

In total surrender to God, he found only one place to meet his needs. His letters describe his response to this passage:

“No matter how intricate my path, how difficult my service; no matter how sad my bereavement, how far away my loved ones; no matter how helpless I am, how deep are my soul-yearnings—Jesus can all, all, and more than meet. He not only promises me rest. . . . He not only promises me drink to alleviate my thirst. No, better than that! ‘He who trusts me (who believeth on me, takes me at my word) out of him shall flow…’”

The overflow of Taylor’s life has far outlived him as he sought fulfillment in Christ alone. But how did he experience fullness in Christ when his life was one of such difficult circumstances? His study of a Greek verb tense further revealed the secret:

“’Come unto me and drink.’ Not, come and take a hasty draught; not, come and slightly alleviate, or for a short time remove one’s thirst. No! ‘drink’ or ‘be drinking’ constantly, habitually….One coming, one drinking may refresh and comfort: but we are to be ever coming, ever drinking.”

Total surrender means total reliance on God. Like Paul, Taylor found the secret of contentment by entering God’s rest:

“How little I believed the rest and peace of heart I now enjoy were possible down here! It is heaven begun below, is it not? . . . Compared with this union with Christ, heaven or earth are unimportant accidents. . . . He is our power for service and fruit-bearing, and his bosom is our resting placing now and forever.”

His joy in Christ was so all-consuming he lived Paul’s words: “momentary, light affliction is producing for us an eternal weight of glory far beyond all comparison, while we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen; for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things which are not seen are eternal” (2 Corinthians 4:17, 18). During terrible trials he wrote of “the joy of knowing the living of God, of seeing the living God, of resting on the living God.”

www.omf.org/

Hope was indeed the bridge from Taylor’s faith in God to his labor of love in China. He knew with Christ carrying the yoke alongside him, his sacrifices were worthwhile and bearable. He believed God would provide in every way because of His promises and demonstration of faithfulness. And he looked forward to an eternity where Chinese believers would praise the Lamb with him.

Hudson Taylor presents a formidable example of radical dependence on God. Though I’m light-years behind him in spiritual maturity, I still want to learn the secret of entering God’s rest by continually satisfying all need in Christ. From there the rest takes care of itself, as Taylor illustrated: “If you are ever drinking at the Fountain with what will your life be running over?—Jesus, Jesus, Jesus!”

Osnos, Evan. “Jesus in China.” The Chicago Tribune, June 22, 2008. .

A sense of urgency is immediately evident at the beginning of Paul’s first letter to Timothy. After his standard greeting he gets right to the point: don’t leave Ephesus because you need to tell people not to teach whacked-out doctrines. Throughout his writing Paul warns against false teachers, but even in Galatians, written when Judaizers threatened to steal the excitement of grace from new believers, Paul waited at least a few more verses to introduce his concern. But in 1 Timothy he’s just bursting to make the main point the main point.

And what is that? One word: grace.

It dominates virtually every page of the Bible in innumerable forms. It’s God’s gift that we could never deserve, Christ’s payment for our sins and the invitation to an eternal relationship with Him. And it’s exactly what was threatened when these navel-gazing teachers began flapping jaws filled with falsehood, deception, and legalism. They indulged in hair-splitting speculation instead of spreading the news of salvation by faith alone. And Paul was pissed.

Doesn't Paul look pissed?

Timothy, on the other hand, was timid. That’s probably why Paul had to tell him to stay put and deal with this festering sore, which could easily infect and wipe out the church at Ephesus. So he reminded Timothy what it was all about:

“But the goal of our instruction is love from a pure heart and a good conscience and a sincere faith.”

The point of all our efforts in ministry is love, whether we’re planning, teaching, relating, or doing other various and sundry tasks. And this love is not the polite fakery of office-manners or Sunday church decorum. It’s from a heart purified by Christ’s blood, which makes it possible for us to forgive and earnestly care for other sinners. This love comes from a generous conscience which not only wishes others well, but actively seeks to provide good in their lives. It issues forth from a sincere faith, without hypocrisy because we realize we are utterly depraved and unable to love without Christ.

As Paul continues he points out that the Law was made to be broken. The point isn’t for us to earn God’s approval by keeping it, but for us to realize we can’t do it and accept grace instead. In Xenos we know this, but we’re still in danger of becoming teachers of the Law if we don’t emphasize the preeminence of love in response to grace. We must teach people that we are under grace! We don’t want to teach or allow people to teach the Xenos Law:

1. Go to every CT, home church, and cell group meeting.
2. Pray and share at these meetings.
3. Try to get other people, especially non-believers, to come to said meetings.
4. Read Walking in Victory, The Scarlet Thread, and the NeoZine.
5. Check Basecamp often, and post frequently.
6. Hang out with people a lot in order to build “spiritual relationships that last.” (another required reading)

These are all very good steps to take if you wish to grow as a Christian. If not, following them will probably make you miserable. But the point is, we don’t want to follow the Law. We want to fall in love with Jesus and be motivated by His grace and a dynamic, exciting love relationship with our loving God.

But how? Remember the goal: Love that is pure as it’s motivated by grace, not guilt; that is from a good conscience, not selfish, gotta-grow-my-cell-group motives; and that is from a sincere faith that God is good, the gospel is true, and Christ is the only one worth living for.

How does that work out practically? Take one example. When your disciple or roommate skips out on CT, don’t make that the issue. Instead ask, “Why did you pass up this opportunity to love others?” or “Why are you being so selfish, autonomous, and distrustful?” (Love Ethics notes, week 1). Get to the heart of the issue: “Why aren’t you excited by God’s grace?” Find out where the faith-hope-love train has broken down (see Hebrews CT series) and help them repair it, rather than just addressing the external behavior. Remember the purpose of discipleship teaching the person to love others, God’s way.

I’m certainly no expert at keeping the goal of love in sight, as I’m far too functional in my leadership and relationships. But I desperately want to turn to grace to fight legalism and learn love instead. Who’s with me?

It started off like any other camping trip, with Diana and me obsessively checking the forecast throughout the week even though it has no bearing on reality and is unpredictable as what color combination Keith will wear to CT. Next I scoured our camping box and wracked my brain to compose a Walmart shopping list. As always with Walmart trips, I thought of two more items I needed immediately upon returning home, thus requiring a second trip. I packed my hatch to bursting, seemingly defying the laws of physics, and stood back to admire my work and wipe grill grease off my favorite jeans (the ones I wear constantly).

But this camping trip was to be like none I’d experienced in almost six years of Xenos camping.

Neil arrived home from work and emphatically declared, “I can’t remember anything.”

Was he frustrated that he’d left some beloved piece of technology at work? Nope.

Neil, my camping partner and good little Indian extraordinaire, spoke because he knew exactly what I’d been thinking. He was going to miss the first night of camping, along with Mark and Fish, to attend a bachelor party, and I’d considered sending the cooler with him. But his determination to assume no such responsibility affirmed my previous decision to handle it myself.

Diana arrived, deposited herself and a few items in the Focus cabin, and we began our long journey to Mohican State Park.

“I don’t know how to start a fire,” Diana noted as we drove the winding, narrow road to the group camping site an hour and a half later. “I know the basic idea, but I’ve never actually done it.”

“I know, Sarah and I were just talking about that yesterday, how we both want to know but then never actually try to find out,” I concurred.

Finally we made it to the site, no thanks to the clueless blonde high school girls working at the camp office. “We’re not, like, affiliated with the group camp. I mean, we are, but like, I’ve never been there…”

The first to arrive, we set up my tent where we both planned to sleep the first night. My mechanically challenged self couldn’t figure out how connect the air compressor to the air mattress, but luckily Diana had more common sense than me. Then my phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Hi, it’s Craig. I just wanted to let you know that we broke down.”

“Who’s we?”

“Me, Nick, and Brian.”

Of course the NASA nerds travel in a pack. About halfway to the campground their spacepod broke down.

“Let me know if you need a ride,” I said at Diana’s suggestion.

Just then, a car pulled up to the site. It was Mandy and Sarah.

“This is funny because we were all talking about how we don’t know how to start a fire,” I observed.

“It’s like Survivor Woman!” Diana was excited at the challenge.

“Yeah, can suburban housewives survive without their husbands?” I challenged.

As Sarah and Mandy pitched their tent, Diana and I ventured out to find firewood. Although not very survivor-like, we thought the camp store was our best bet. We didn’t want to travel the long, scary road back, so we consulted the map and attempted a different route. Thirty minutes later we were nowhere near our destination, but fortunately ended along the route we’d come. Sara was blowing up our phones while Diana expounded on why the map was wrong, and just as we got re-oriented Craig called, asking if we could pick them up in Wooster.

I was upset, not because I didn’t want to pick them up, but because I didn’t want to keep driving up and down that winding ravine-bordered road. With a car full of supplies and wood, there was no way I could fit three astronauts and their gear into my two-door. My frustration led to a frantic conversation with Neil and expletives such as, “Why is there a fucking fat guy on a bike?” which he ignored but Diana found hysterical.

We purchased firewood, used the restrooms since the group camp has only outhouses, and were about to call Sara back when an familiar white car rolled up, containing Sara and followed by a park ranger.

When confronted for exceeding the 20 mph speed limit, she played the girl card with surprising aptitude. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I was lost and couldn’t find my way to the camp site and then I hit a pothole and almost fell off the cliff…” Despite her admission of additional driving faults, it worked and the ranger let her go.

Craig called back with a location and directions. Luckily we had two cars now, so the rescue squad wouldn’t have to return to the campsite to drop off stuff. Sara offered to get them, Diana joined her, and I made my way up the scary road alone, this time in the dark.

While the damsels swapped roles to rescue the engineers in distress, Mandy and I successfully started a fire, pitched Sara’s tent, and kicked back with well-deserved s’mores. Sarah joined us, and finally the men and their heroes arrived.

The bachelor party boys couldn’t wait till morning to come, so they rolled in around two a.m. I became aware of Neil’s presence as he blew up the air mattress with me on it.

The next day we canoed, an activity I was quite adverse to at first. Sarah, Mandy, and I shared a canoe. We immediately hit the bank and went into a spin, but with Mandy’s direction we got the hang of it soon enough. It was a blast, a great bonding time, and no one even got wet. We looked over to see Mark sitting in the bottom of the canoe, smoking a cigarette while Ryan and Fish paddled away. Neil was with Nick, who boasts over 100 miles of canoeing experience. Yet the wiry team finished last, “because we stopped to wait for you girls.”

More people arrived before and after canoeing with a total of twenty by the time we sat down around the campfire for Nick’s teaching debut, which he tag-teamed with Craig. Their teaching recapped a Servant Team Retreat talk on the motivation of grace versus the “I-should mentality.” It was followed by an insightful discussion and prayer, which saw a consensus of wanting to be excited about grace and motivated to radical Christian living that defies our tribal, comfort-loving tendencies.

“It’s really cool that you guys are out here,” Neil pointed out. “It shows you’re willing to leave your comfort zones.”

Late into the night, the conversation about grace continued informally between friends. As Neil heaped wood on the blazing hot fire, many of us felt the Holy Spirit fanning the flame in our hearts. As we move into adulthood, marriage, careers, and parenthood, we want to become increasingly radical in our faithfulness to the Lord. While the lures of compromise and comfort are subtle and appealing, we want to fight against the flesh and experience the joy of sacrifice instead. Big questions still remain as we seek a vision for where God is leading us, but we want to seek out steps of faith that will prepare us to build His Kingdom in Canton, Cambodia, or elsewhere.

So can suburban housewives survive primitive camping without their husbands? Yes. But the real test of substance remains as we follow God’s will. And you never know where that leads. Heck, maybe we’ll buy a duplex in the Amazon.

After re-reading Keith’s article “Time to Grow Up!” I realized what a sissy I am. I grew up in a tribal home where love was largely defined as compliance. While my parents instilled in me a number of important permanent love values such as responsibility, a good work ethic, and contributing in the family, I found myself completely unable to function socially in the world outside of home. I also suffer from the first-child syndrome: my parents, despite their best efforts to warn me against the idea, left me thinking that I am the center of the universe.

Sissy Meets World

This problem’s first clear manifestation occurred at my preschool program, where I sat revealing my three-year-old panties and sucking my thumb instead of singing “The Itsy Bitsy Spider” and similar fare with the more well-adjusted children. The finale of my performance saw me hurl my carpet square off the stage, an act which was imitated by one of my classmates. Best of all, my parents had the foresight to preserve a video record of my public debut for posterity.

Perhaps my shy nature is mostly to blame, as my more outgoing younger sister did not have the same difficulties. In fact, she gained the title of social butterfly at my kindergarten graduation since she “made more friends there than Kalie did the entire year,” as my parents observed. To what extent nurture and nature are at fault I cannot say, but my inability to relate to others clearly marked me as a tribal sissy from the start.

The situation did not improve over the years; rather I found myself a lonely and isolated teenager who thought myself above befriending brain-dead adolescents. Never mind that hormones left me just as brain-damaged as the next fourteen-year-old. I was different; I was not high school—a noun which became the ultimate adjective-insult in my vocabulary. Thus I found myself alone and lonely at the end of the torment commonly called high school.

Many of you already know the story of how God transformed me from a scared-but-willing college freshman who cried before parties, to a person who cared enough about others to at least carry on a conversation. But the remnants of my tribal sissy past still haunt my relationships and ultimately my sense of significance. I see it in every area of my life: I want to be loved and that means gaining others’ acceptance, approval, and affirmation. I think this often concerns me more than what is good for other people. That’s why I’m too soft on people, while I silently judge them in my heart. It’s why I’m often ineffective at disciplining people, despite my self-righteous convictions that they are so very wrong. When boldness is required, I’m more likely to back off because I fear others’ response to me.

I’m sure this contributed to my failures in discipleship, including but not limited to Missy, Kay, and Jen. And while they each ultimately made their own decision, I think I offered too little too late (especially in the first two cases). I am so scared to repeat these mistakes—I literally have nightmares about it—but if it’s still fear that drives me, I’m doomed for failure again. Because half the reason I’m scared has nothing to do with the well-being of my friends, my cell group, or my home church, and has everything to do with what people will think of me. Once again, I’m after what I falsely define as love, namely, recognition for a job well done.

This worked in my tribe. If I did my chores, practiced my instruments, and didn’t fight with my sisters, I was received as a good daughter. But I misinterpreted my parents’ acceptance for love, and that based on conditions. This is why I was so shocked when they expressed love even after I messed up big time (i.e. “secret car” incident). Their loved turned out to be unconditional, or at least much less conditional that I thought. But this demonstration couldn’t undo nineteen years of my twisted view of love.

Now my sissy self gets discouraged at the slightest hint of defeat because I feel threatened. And I react with ugly immaturity, sometimes sophisticatedly masked and sometimes not. Like a child who throws a fit after losing a game, I metaphorically suck my thumb and throw my carpet square by crying and blurting stupid, proud, fatalistic statements. While I know my tantrum-declarations aren’t true, my feelings overwhelm and conquer me in a classic example of infantile behavior.

Tantrums--cuter on kids than adults

While I’ve become more mature according to the world and can now initiate conversations, build friendships, and maintain even difficult relationships, I’m still far from spiritual maturity. I want to be able to serve with humility, no longer seeking others’ approval and admiration. I want to disciple with authority, fervently and boldly pursuing what is best for the other person regardless of her reaction. I want to stop fearing failure, take my identity from Christ, and remember that I answer to God. I want to stop demanding to be loved the wrong way, whether it’s with tantrums or subtleties, and start loving the right way, God’s way. And although my negative sissy self whispers that it’ll never happen, I’ve already experienced God’s victorious love output in my life, and I know that He can continue to lead me in a life of love that conquers.

After a rather ungrateful day yesterday, I thought I’d look back to my notes on Keith and Greg’s Labor Day East Harbor teaching. The following is adapted from their teaching, and it helps me get re-oriented when I get ungrateful.

If you’re like most people, you’ve settled into a life of tolerable misery. Joy seems unattainable, as far out of reach as the stars. You know that Christians should “rejoice in the Lord,” but you blame your temperament, your circumstances, or your relationships for your inability to experience joy. Life sucks, you reason, so pursuing a joyful life is futile. Depression or distraction is much easier.

If this is you, consider the possibility that deep-seated ingratitude, not your personality or situation, is what stands between you and a joyful Christian life. The enlightenment of gratitude can transform your relationship with God and other people. Your faith can grow, your character can change, and your relationships can be revolutionized if you are willing to cultivate a grateful heart.

Learning Real Faith
Gratitude is an important part of our faith. Colossians 2:7 says we should walk in Christ, “having been firmly rooted and now being built up in Him and established in your faith, just as you were instructed, and overflowing with gratitude.” We will become more grateful as we experience and acknowledge God’s goodness in our lives. Such gratitude will fertilize our faith as we learn to trust God more.

Tapping into the Power of God
As our faith increases, so will God’s power in our lives: “Thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumph in Christ, and manifests through us the sweet aroma of the knowledge of Him in every place” (2 Corinthians 2:14). The growth cycle of faith and gratitude should spur us to express thankfulness to God for the victory He gives us. This is an important way of glorifying His power, not our own.

Practicing Stewardship
Showing gratitude is also a way of practicing stewardship. When we thank God, we acknowledge that all we have is His, which in turn motivates us to use these provisions for Him. In Colossians 3:15-17 the thankful attitude of stewardship is the refrain: “Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body; and be thankful. Let the word of Christ richly dwell within you, with all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another with psalms and hymns and spiritual sons, singing with thankfulness in your hearts to God. Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father.” The words be thankful literally mean “show yourselves thankful.” A mature steward will not only feel thankful, but will also express thankfulness to God and others.

Attracting Others to Christ
Such a grateful attitude attracts others to Christ, which is why Paul tells the Colossians to pray “with an attitude of thanksgiving” before telling them to “Let your speech always be with grace, as though seasoned with salt, so that you will know how you should respond to each person” (Col. 4:2, 6). A thankful prayer life will empower us to draw others to God as His grace permeates our lives. When people see that we are thankful to God, from whom all good gifts come, they will want to know more about Him.

Experiencing the New Creature in Christ
Only as we learn to be grateful can we fully experience being a new creature in Christ. If we truly appreciate what God has done in freeing us from the power of sin and giving us a new life in Him, then we can present our whole selves to God to be used by Him (Romans 6:9, 11, 13). Presenting our bodies “a living and holy sacrifice” is the only logical response when we are grateful for our new freedom. We are guilty of a crime that requires the death penalty, but have been acquitted by a merciful Judge. Certainly gratitude and devotion are only natural reactions in this case.

Joy
A life of gratitude is a completely different existence than the ungrateful rebellion we are born into. It is characterized by qualities that are impossible to achieve or imitate without a grateful heart. When we realize that we deserve nothing, yet have been given much, an indescribable joy infuses our experiences. Suddenly, we look around and see that all that we have has been given to us, and we start to appreciate the provisions, abilities, and people we so often take for granted. Certainly this is cause to “Rejoice in the Lord always” (Php. 4:4). Finally, we can stop worrying and whining and instead “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God” (Php. 4:6).

Contentment
When we are grateful for everything God gives us, we develop a deep-seated contentment that no experience of temporary pleasures can bring. Paul says that he “learned to be content in whatever circumstances” (Php. 4:12) precisely because he could “rejoice in the Lord always,” no matter the situation. He saw God’s hand at work in the midst of shipwrecks, beatings, and imprisonment, and continually found cause to give thanks. Too often we adopt the American attitude instead of the biblical view, wishing our car was faster, our home bigger, our clothes nicer, and our technology newer. Our never-ending wish list will only be complete when we choose to be thankful and content for all that we have been blessed with.

Able to Freely Love and Serve
It’s only at this point of contentment that it’s possible for us to freely love and serve others. Once we are no longer consumed with our own desires, we can begin to sacrificially love. Paul urges that “entreaties and prayer, petitions and thanksgivings, be made on behalf of all men” (1 Tim. 2:1). One of our first steps in loving others is to pray for them, giving thanks for their role in our lives, for the opportunity to serve them, for the vision God has for them…the list could go on and on because there is so much to be thankful for! And our prayers for others should not be restricted to a close-knit circle of friends. Rather, our prayers should extend to “all men,” even those in other countries.

Edifying
Christ reminds us in Matthew 10:8 that “freely you received; freely give.” God’s love and grace come at no cost to us, so there’s no good reason not to share these riches with others. One good way to “freely give” is to “consider how to stimulate one another on to love and good deeds” (Hebrews 10:25). Let your friends know how much you admire their willingness to serve God, or their courage in taking a new step of faith. Such encouragement is edifying, motivating, and much-needed.

Hopeful
Gratitude gives us hope in the midst of sufferings, as we look forward to the perfect eternity God promises. When we realize that we deserve hell but have access to heaven instead, it makes sense to “greatly rejoice, even though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been distressed by various trials” (1 Pet. 1:6). It is crucial that we learn to rejoice even in trials, so that we are ready “to give an account for the hope that is in you” (1 Pet. 3:15). Expressing our gratitude for eternal life should begin here on earth, and it is this hope that allows us to rejoice always.

Direction
Even as the world threatens to destroy us, “we exult in hope of the glory of God … and we also exult in our tribulations,” because we know that God can use our situation to develop perseverance, proven character, and hope (Romans 5:2-4). Growing gratitude results in direction: we know God is transforming us in this life and will perfect us in the life to come. We have much to be grateful for in the Holy Spirit, who does this work within us and guides us in the truth (Romans 5:5, John 16:13).

Victory
As God completes his good work in us, we experience the victorious life of freedom from sin and a new ability to love: “thanks be to God that though you were slaves of sin you became obedient from the heart…and having been freed from sin, you became slaves of righteousness” (Romans 6:17,18). As humans, we are not capable of independent self-rule. By default, we are slaves to sin, but when we choose to come under God’s leadership instead, we are suddenly free to live a life of love. There couldn’t be a better cause to rejoice!

Answered Prayers
Gratitude can transform our prayer life as well. The old shopping-list approach to God can be replaced with a vibrant, pervasive gratitude that seeks to know more of God’s goodness while always giving thanks. The Bible says to “Devote yourselves to prayer, keeping alert in it with an attitude of thanksgiving” (Col. 4:2), and as we relate to God with this new attitude, we will begin to see life through God’s eyes. And as we pray according to His will, we will see more of our prayers answered.

Giving to God
Finally, only gratitude will enable us to give to God as we should. While He doesn’t need anything from us, He certainly deserves our praise. “Through Him then, let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that give thanks to His name” (Hebrews 13:15). Our praise is a sign that we know who He is and what He has done. So “praise the name of God with song and magnify Him with thanksgiving, and it will please the Lord better than an ox or a young bull with horns and hoofs” (Psalm 69:30, 31). God is more pleased with our thanksgiving than with token sacrifices or acts of duty. He made the ultimate sacrifice on the cross because He wants us—heart, mind, soul, and strength. And when we cultivate a grateful heart, we can know Him in the way He intended, both honoring Him and giving Him thanks.