Stepping Up

Clog spotWhen I lived alone in my cottage, I used to put my clogs on the fireplace hearth when I wasn’t using them. The opposite of that simple picture is the one below, a line-up belonging to Hans, Katy, and their 3 young children.

 

The Line-up

Today as I studied the assortment of boots, shoes, and slippers next to my front door, my mind rushed to the word “commitment.” Having a family is a massive one, and footwear is only a small part of it. For Katy and Hans, there will soon be a pair of baby booties at the end of that long line, too, and an increased commitment to go along with it.

Having children requires making an ongoing commitment that refuses to quit. But isn’t that true with most of life’s worthwhile undertakings? To make them work, we can’t allow ourselves to give up or walk away. On this New Year’s Day, I’ve been asking myself what worthwhile commitments God wants me to make in 2013.

Scripture tells us to carefully count the cost of taking on new responsibilities, and to do so for an important reason: so that we’ll be able to do what we said we’d do. Saying yes to something without following through is to be avoided.

Jesus is our example in this, demonstrating the ultimate in follow-through. He volunteered to do the most difficult job that existed, giving his sinless life for our sins. Sticking with that commitment turned out to be excruciating for him, but he did it anyway.

My response to his example should be to accept whatever assignment he asks me to do in 2013, first counting the cost, then making plans to pay it. He won’t ask me to do what I can’t, nor will he assign me something that will swamp me. If I find that happening, the commitment I’ve taken on won’t have been from him.

But how will I be able to tell if a commitment I’m asked to make is from God or some other source? Jesus is our example in that, too. He only did what God asked him to do and nothing else, a pro at discerning what that was. So if we ask him to help us sort through our own commitment-confusion, he will.

As 2013 begins and we decide how we’re going to spend our time (whether it involves a long line of family shoes or a single pair of clogs) we should run it all past the Lord first, to get his take on it. And then once we commit, we should take it all the way…. just like he does.

The Lord says, “Even if the mountains walk away and the hills fall to pieces, my love won’t walk away from you, my covenant commitment of peace won’t fall apart.” (Isaiah 54:10, The Message)

A Slippery Slope

Hauling them upToday Hans, Louisa, and I took 3 little ones to our snow-covered beach where we careened down slippery dunes on plastic sleds amidst abundant giggles and squeals. Twice our sleds ended up in the creek, but wet legs and mittens never dampened spirits.

When we first arrived, the children couldn’t get enough of the “down” but resisted the arduous “ups”, pleading to be pulled to the top of the snowy dune while sitting in the sleds. We complied, wanting them to gain enough enthusiasm for the sledding experience to stay all afternoon.

Pull me up!After a few hauls up, however, we adults began insisting the children climb back up by themselves, to which there was unanimous objection. Ages 3, 2, and 2, they planted themselves at the bottom, refusing to come up without assistance. We stood at the top cajoling them, but still they refused, wanting us to make the experience easier on them.

I’ve done something quite similar when God has asked me to make a hard climb toward a difficult goal he’s set for me. Knowing it would be difficult and that he could make things easier caused me to plead for him to do so. But the hard truth was that without the pain, I’d have missed the gain.

Our little ones could have chosen to stand at the bottom of the hill indefinitely, but if they had, they’d have missed the delights of a fast ride down on a sled. Something similar happens when we mentally shake a fist at God and say, “You aren’t being fair! None of my friends have had to go through what you’re putting me through. I simply refuse to obey you.”

In that situation, God says the same thing Hans said to his children this afternoon. “Ok, have it your way. But you won’t get to slide down if you don’t come up first.”

All of us would rather live life on a continual down-hill, but that trajectory would put us on a slippery slope to self-indulgence. When we refuse to take any route other than the easy one, we become lethargic and spoiled. Worse yet, we miss the joy that becomes ours after we obey an all-wise God.

Ready to go!Even a young child can figure that out. Today after one of our little ones finally decided to trudge up the dune to get a ride down, the other two stumbled their way up, too. It was rewarding to see how well they adjusted to doing the difficult thing, if it meant they could have another joyful sled ride. Before long they were running up the dune to “go again.”

And it works the same with us. Once we’re willing to tackle God’s prescribed challenges, the excitement of sharing in the results he brings makes it much easier to trudge up next time, so we can “go again.”

“What I am commanding you today is not too difficult for you or beyond your reach.” (Deuteronomy 30:11)

Complete Dependency

Little Emerald is almost 5 weeks old. She’s gained nearly 3 pounds, which is quite a bit, since she left the hospital weighing only 7 pounds 9 ounces. We’re loving her double chin and dimpled hands, and Birgitta is doing a beautiful job nursing her.

Emerald’s eyes have learned to focus intently now, unlike in the beginning when they would freely cross while looking at nothing in particular. These days, her favorite thing to look at is her mommy’s face. She studies Birgitta’s features as she’s feeding, memorizing every detail with a gaze of complete adoration and feelings of absolute dependency. And when Emerald can’t readily see that face, she’ll crane her neck to do so. Her mother’s presence equates to complete security in Emerald’s mind, and she spends most of her wake-time searching for her and wanting to be close to her.

If Birgitta chose not to feed Emerald when she was hungry, she would gradually lose weight. If she didn’t change her, bathe her, keep her warm, and speak lovingly to her, Emerald would fail to thrive, eventually becoming sick, and finally dying. And yet this little one knows nothing of these dangers, trusting her every need will be met by her mother.

We might say Emerald is blissfully ignorant of life’s many hazards, which positions her perfectly to abandon herself to someone else’s care. And if we carry that image into the spiritual realm, God our Father wants us to have the identical relationship with him, focusing away from life’s hazards and abandoning ourselves to his choices for our lives.

Why is this so difficult? Why do we clutch onto our self-made plans rather than surrendering to the One who can do all things? That’s about as crazy as Emerald trying to dress herself or wash her own hair. It’s probably because we’re well aware of life’s dangers. Giving God the reins (which includes standing back so he can work) is a daily trust-tussle inside our heads.

Surely it’s not because we doubt his capabilities. Nor can it be a question of his wisdom. And none of us distrust the magnitude of his love. It’s just too hard to give ourselves over.

We’d never say out loud that we know better than he does, but our actions often say it. As a result, we’re consumed with worry, we’re loaded with stress, we nurture our fears, and we forfeit hours of sleep trying to manipulate circumstances and people. God looks down at this turbulence and says, “So unnecessary. But if you insist, the consequences will be all yours.”

Precious Emerald sets a ready example for those of us living with her. When she has a need, she cries for her mommy-provider and doesn’t try to solve problems on her own. She’s secure in Birgitta’s arms, gazing at her face, and when she sleeps, it’s the deep, nothing-can-wake-me-up sleep of a trusting soul.

With determination of will, we can be the same way with God.

“In peace I will both lie down and sleep; for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.” (Psalm 4:8)