Do the Opposite

Posted on March 26, 2013 by Margaret

Many times the will of God runs contrary to the will of us. He comes at problems from a different angle than we do, and we all know his thoughts are nothing like ours. So why are we surprised when he doesn’t want to do things like we want him to do?

I remember a Seinfeld episode years ago in which everything went wrong for one of the characters. Once he figured out that his repeated failure was a result of his own poor decision-making, he decided to try a new approach. From then on he would do the opposite of what he thought he should do, hoping for success in that way.

Strange as it may seem, that do-the-opposite approach actually worked for him. And as I’ve been thinking about God’s ways vs. ours, maybe the same tact could work for the rest of us, too.

In the middle of pondering this, my son Nelson’s newest blog post arrived to my inbox. He’d written it in one of the many airports he’s passing through on his way from the Youth With A Mission base in Hawaii to Thailand. Two quotes from him:

When I don’t have enough money, I should give some away.
When I feel like there’s not enough time, I should let someone go before me, making me even more behind than I already was.

And there it was, the do-the-opposite living that seems to connect with the Lord. Why would a logical God ask us to do such illogical things? Nelson gave us the answer: because it leaves the outcome up to him.

The scriptural Paul studied this same dilemma and by sheer will power determined he’d live by a do-the-opposite philosophy. He very much wanted to please God and tried hard, but white-knuckling his way through didn’t work: “I want to do what is good, but I don’t. I don’t want to do what is wrong, but I do.” (Romans 7:19) Thinking like God was the opposite of what his heart wanted.

His conclusion was that mankind has no natural goodness in him, which is probably the reason we all find it difficult to think like God. After all, if we have no natural goodness in us and he is all goodness, we’re exact opposites.

So, what hope do we have?

Paul says our hope is in knowing that God is a willing partner in our efforts to live-the-opposite of our natural tendencies. When we’re short on money, he’ll empower us to give some away. When we’re in a rush, he’ll give us the will to let another go ahead. And when we live this way, God will take care of the outcome.

There’s one other benefit, too. To quote Nelson again: “Mastering this kind of attitude actually brings a whole lot more peace than the alternative.”

Paul said, “What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me? …. Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Romans 7:24-25)

How ’bout now?

Posted on March 24, 2013 by Margaret

As a mother of young children, I was never a consistent disciplinarian. Having had a mom whose M.O. was to “let the kids have fun,” I didn’t know how to do it, and besides, being the bad guy was hard work. So I schlepped along, hit-and-miss, and it’s only God’s grace that brought my children through.

Jesus was never a parent, but we get glimpses of his parenting skills throughout the Gospels. I love to read how he got frustrated with his disciple-children once in a while, because all parents have those same exasperating moments.

Kids know in their hearts that parents have their best interests in mind when they set the rules, but a desire to “do their own thing” is often stronger than the will to comply. I saw a recent example of that in my granddaughter Skylar:

This energetic, creative little girl is, at 4½, something of an expert on family relations. Last week when we were visiting, the whole family was working toward a birthday dinner for her little sister, Autumn. Company was coming at 5:00, and there was much to do. Linnea called to Skylar, asking if she’d please come into the kitchen to help her.

Skylar’s reply was interesting. “Mommy, I’d love to help you a whole bunch, but I first have to deal with one of my pets who is having a birthday party tonight also.”

Her comment reminded me of the Bible story where 3 men expressed an interest in joining the ranks of disciples following Jesus. Their words said they were all-in, “a whole bunch,” but the excuses they gave as to why they couldn’t do it right-this-minute fell flat with Jesus.

These unnamed men had no concept of what they were about to give up by making excuses. They believed Jesus was their wondrous Messiah, but incredibly, after this conversation with the Son of God, they chose to go their own way.

Jesus did, too.

I shake my head and think, “They could have had one-on-one teaching from the Master! They could have watched his every move, listened to every conversation, gleaned how righteous living worked. They could have followed him all the way to the cross, to the Garden Tomb, and even to Resurrection Day! By making excuses, they forfeited it all.”

But am I any better? Hasn’t God asked me to do this or that when I’ve said, “Good idea, Lord. I’ll definitely get around to that somewhere along the way.” When I respond in that maybe-later way, do these God-structured opportunities evaporate? Does he come back later? Or does he go and ask a more obedient “child?”

What treasured opportunities have I forfeited?

Skylar didn’t get away with her bogus excuse, since Linnea and Adam are much better at disciplinary follow-through than I ever was. But as for Jesus, I have a hunch he usually leaves it up to us.

“Yes, Lord, I will follow you, but first let me say good-bye to my family.” (Luke 9:61)

Look and See

Posted on March 17, 2013 by Margaret

March is the month we northerners like to “think Florida.” After wintertime, whether severe or mild, the thought of replacing naked grey trees with green palms is enticing. Both Nate and I grew up in nuclear families that piled into the family sedan and headed south about this time of year, making the long, slow road trip part of the vacation fun.

Then Nate and I took our first couple-trip to Florida before we had children, staying with college friends in Reddington Beach. And after children, we locked onto a tradition that carried on for decades, driving a minivan full of kids and blow-up toys to Sanibel Island every spring.

When our Linnea found her true love in a family that had lived in Florida for several generations, we had another good reason to head to the land of orange trees and shell beaches. This week, we’re back again, at least Birgitta, Emerald, and I are. We’ve been hanging with Adam, Linnea, Skylar (4), Micah (3), and Autumn (1), though it’s been far from ideal.

All 3 children have been sick, starting with ear-aches, then upper respiratory infections, moving into hacking coughs, followed by severe pink eye, fevers, vomiting, and finally head colds. Part of living in sick bay all week has also been the struggle to get necessary medicines into these little people, stretching creativity and sometimes patience to the limit.

Though we’ve kept face-washing cloths separate, the children have shared their sicknesses anyway. That is, all except 4-month-old Emerald. Our additional challenge has been to keep her disease-free, and with all the juicy coughing and sneezing going on, that hasn’t been easy.

Raising children can be demanding, but this complex week has been over-the-top. So why did God allow such an assault all at once, and during the week of our vacation? Why did he ask so much of these young parents? Is it simply a forced learning of sacrifice? Or maybe his insistence that they give more than they get? Or even a test about putting others ahead of themselves?

I think it’s something different than all that. Every parenting struggle is an opportunity to search for God, who buries himself like hidden treasure within the details of difficulty. There’s a verse in Isaiah that I used to read negatively: “Truly you are a God who has been hiding himself.” (45:15) But could it be he hides in order to see who will work to find him?

During a week of swollen eyes, runny noses, and tear-stained cheeks, I’ve found him in several places: in the ever-expanding patience of Adam and Linnea; in the way a very sick Micah rested his head on my shoulder during story time; in Skylar’s thoughtfulness as she faithfully covered her cough while close to the baby; and in God’s gifts of grace to endure the assault of diseases he allowed.