Offering gentle encouragement for women while addressing emotional and spiritual abuse within authoritarian families. "He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds." (Ps. 147:3)
Hello! Welcome to the Quivering Daughterswebsite. Please note that this site is no longer being updated with new material but I hope you find the archives helpful. God bless you.
Women raised within authoritarian homeschooling, Quiverfull, or fundamentalist Christian families know that our parents had good, godly intentions for their choice of lifestyle. Nevertheless, as we often discuss at Quivering Daughters, many of us grew up experiencing depression, thoughts of suicide, fear, shame, and other serious ramifications as a partial result of the abuse of authority and the abuse of control. Obviously this doesn't implicate every homeschooling or Quiverfull family, but if you were raised with such a conservative background and struggle with these issues, you know what this involves. "Abuse" means"mis-use." We know that addressing the effects of the mis-use of authority, the mis-use of our emotions, and the mis-use of our spirituality and personhood doesn't mean that we don't love our families, our pastor or husband or whoever operated outside of their boundaries. In fact, we must invite the light of Christ into these painful places in order to be healed. This means that we must seek truth and expose darkness.
In the quest for healing from over-control, it's important to understand how it happens so we can begin addressing the areas affected. We've discussed why the mind is so important, for as Christians, we are to be transformed by the renewing of it so that we can prove good, acceptable, and perfect will of God. No one else can do this for us. However, many try!
I do not address minors regarding these issues, but our upbringing plays a huge role in why we sometimes feel stuck today. This isn't to cast blame or vilify parents or anyone else but to simply apprehend the truth about what contributes to our dilemma. Understanding the roots of our struggles will clue us in to practical ways of overcoming them.
Please note: I realize that much of my audience has an acquired disdain for modern psychology. I hope, however, that the material I present will be a helpful tool to facilitate your journey. As always, also know that I'm not a mental health professional. Please research these things on your own, ask the Holy Spirit for wisdom, search the Scriptures, and pray for God to lead you as you address your past. Again: the purpose of this is not to blame or shame anyone who has, for reasons and convictions of their own, promoted these things. It is to understand what role undue influence, thought patterns, and methods of living have played in our lives ~ with the goal of taking responsibility for ourselves, our beliefs, and recovery.
Hassan graciously gave me permission to reprint his document "Mind Control ~ The BITE Model" in my book, although it didn't make it into the final version. His history and grasp of mind control gives him a unique perspective on the ways psychological coercion affects our lives ~ and readers may be shocked to discover unique similarities between what he has observed from destructive groups and the daily lifestyle of many authoritarian or fundamentalist families.
This doesn't mean all of these things are bad or harmful in and of themselves; I hope to facilitate dialogue over each element so we can determine how much inappropriate control affected us and where we might still have trouble as we seek to be made free. So for the next few weeks I'd like to discuss each element of The BITE Model ~ Behavior Control, Information Control, Thought Control, and Emotional Control.
a. Where, how and with whom the member lives and associates with
b. What clothes, colors, hairstyles the person wears
c. What food the person eats, drinks, adopts, and rejects
d. How much sleep the person is able to have
e. Financial dependence
f. Little or no time spent on leisure, entertainment, vacations
2. Major time commitment required for indoctrination sessions and group rituals
3. Need to ask permission for major decisions
4. Need to report thoughts, feelings and activities to superiors
5. Rewards and punishments (behavior modification techniques - positive and negative).
6. Individualism discouraged; group think prevails
7. Rigid rules and regulations
8. Need for obedience and dependency
The floor is open ~ let's discuss!
Is any of this familiar? What similarities can you find between this list and your upbringing? While there must be responsible regulation in the lives of young children, at what point does a maturing young adult need to take responsibility for their own behavior? How does this list make you feel? Even if you agree with a strict childhood, remember that many quivering daughters (and sons!) live at home until marriage which could mean well into adulthood, yet many of the elements remain the same. What about when it's a Quiverfull family, and there are children of all ages under the same roof? How should behavior control be handled then?
Remember that you can post anonymously or use a pseudonym, if you're more comfortable.
These words were as foreign to me, once, as they are to her. Hands cup steaming mugs, drawing warmth ~ she, a chocolate chai, and me, a dry cappuccino with whispers of cinnamon and vanilla. It rains, outside. Gray and cold, yet here we snuggle cozy, speaking close. Heart close. She speaks in chorus with the younger me:
"But I don't know how."
Oh how I understand. There was a time I didn't know how either, or even know in the first place. But I did know I was evil, fallen short, and that with every sin, every thought, every breath, I nailed Jesus to the cross. Again and again and again. Just being was disgrace.
I sip warmth. The cafe murmurs. "What would you say to your friend, if she told you everything you said to me now?"
"I would tell her not to be so hard on herself," she replies thoughtfully, and sets mug on table. "That she can learn from her mistakes, that she's only human. God still loves her." She smiles a little. "But that's different."
I watch rain slide sideways in the wind; umbrella curls up as someone runs to the door seeking solace and coffee. "Why is it different?"
She shrugs. "It just is."
I know why it was different for me, when I had that conversation before. It's different for those of us who struggle to believe we have anything worthwhile to offer. That esteeming all others better than ourselves really means to consider myself a blight on the earth who should never have been born. Who would want such a person? Who would love such a person?
We are silent for a moment. Our soundtrack pulses against the window; chocolate and freshly ground coffee make a heady aromatherapy. Without, altogether delicious.
Within, soul-ache.
"You matter, you know." I speak softly.
All-cried-out eyes trace cup; they are empty, shadowed. She shrugs. "To whom? God loves me. That's enough, isn't it?"
"Well, yes, but." I search for words. "What does His love mean? What does it make Him, and what does it make you?"
She is quiet, although desperation seeps from still frame, the frame He remembers with mercy...
For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
So great is His lovingkindness toward those who fear Him.
As far as the east is from the west,
So far has He removed our transgressions from us.
Just as a father has compassion on his children,
So the LORD has compassion on those who fear Him.
For He Himself knows our frame;
He is mindful that we are but dust. (Psalm 103:11-14, NASB)
I weep, reflecting on shortcomings and sin and regrets.
He reigns, remembering my frame.
What does this mean for me? He knows how I am affected, what I love, what I need, what is hurtful. He knows all the nuances of shadows and light that play in my heart and mind and spirit, the emotions, the fears, the faith. And He shows grace, redeeming.
"I just want to be good enough." Her voice breaks into my thoughts. Oh so familiar, again!
I tiptoe using words; sometimes conversation bruises tender places, and other times it heals. "Sometimes good gets in the way."
She looks up at me, blinks. Head tilts, bewildered. "What?"
The words of Christ burn in my heart:
When Jesus heard that, He said to them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy and not sacrifice.’ For I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners, to repentance.” (Matthew 9:12-14, NKJV)
"Jesus doesn't call the good people. He didn't die for the good people. Maybe you're carrying a burden you aren't meant to carry?" I say it gently, praying. The rain keeps watering the world. I taste cinnamon on my lips.
She draws breath. "Hmm. Okay..."
Grace, she is delicate, residing with the lowly, given to the humble. "Perhaps if you are gentle to yourself, and see yourself as He sees you, you will understand?" I am hopeful.
"Maybe one day," she says, unsure and tired and old, but the light comes back into her eyes.
For you see your calling, brethren, that not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called. But God has chosen the foolish things of the world to put to shame the wise, and God has chosen the weak things of the world to put to shame the things which are mighty; and the base things of the world and the things which are despised God has chosen, and the things which are not,
to bring to nothing the things that are...(1 Cor.1:26-28)
Discover grace with us on Fridays and link to discoveries of your own...
oet and playwright W. S. Gilbert (you might know him from his operettas composed with Arthur Sullivan) wrote some comic poems about the far-away land of Topsyturvydom:
Where vice is virtue—virtue, vice: Where nice is nasty—nasty, nice: Where right is wrong and wrong is right— Where white is black and black is white.
Everything in Topsyturvydom is precisely the opposite of what you expect in our world. Soldiers are cowards, criminals are judges, and babies are born knowing differential calculus and become more ignorant as they grow. It’s silly, of course, but that’s the fun of it. As Ken Medema sang, “The world looks different to you when you’re flying upside down.”
So I’ve noticed a recurring phrase in certain schools of doctrine: “Godly authority.” Husbands should have godly authority over wives. Fathers should have godly authority over children. Pastors should have godly authority over their congregations. Don’t rebel against godly authority.
It sounds good and devout, probably because “godly” is a good faith word and “authority” is something we take for granted. Somebody has to have authority, and certainly “godly authority” seems preferable to the other kind. In fact, it’s exactly what we would expect to hear.
That makes me suspicious. Most of these doctrinaires would agree with me that “godly” should only mean “following what Jesus taught.” But Jesus never taught exactly what we expect to hear. Jesus taught about flying upside down.
Jesus managed to subvert almost everyone’s expectations. They expected a Messiah who would enforce the Law of God; they got one who religious people called a wine-bibber and a friend of prostitutes. They expected a Messiah who would be a conquering hero; they got one who died on a cross with thieves. It’s not for nothing that His critics accused His followers of “turning the world upside down.” Sometimes I’m left wondering whether Jesus was a secret citizen of Topsyturvydom.
When we look at what Jesus taught about authority, what we find seems equally wrong-way-up. Look closely at some of what Jesus said and you’ll start to think you’re standing on your head:
But Jesus called [the disciples] to Himself and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and those who are great exercise authority over them. Yet it shall not be so among you; but whoever desires to become great among you, let him be your servant. And whoever desires to be first among you, let him be your slave—just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:25–28, NKJV. Cf. Luke 22:24–27, Mark 10:42–45.)
When Jesus taught about authority, He said one thing clearly: It’s not about exercising authority. The great one is a servant. The greatest one is a slave.
Jesus didn’t let up with the topsy-turviness, either. He said you shouldn’t even take a title of authority:
“But you are not to be called ‘Rabbi,’ for you have only one Master and you are all brothers. And do not call anyone on earth ‘father,’ for you have one Father, and he is in heaven. Nor are you to be called ‘teacher,’ for you have one Teacher, the Christ.The greatest among you will be your servant. For whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” (Matthew 23:8–12, NIV).
The formula for greatness, according to Jesus, is to thrust greatness away from you. It’s not to be looked up to but to be humble. The greatest is the least, the most exalted is the humblest, and the highest is the lowest. If you want to become great, try to be humble; if you want to be humbled, try to be great.
Is this just more nonsense and silliness, something W. S. Gilbert might have dreamed up? Contrast this to the entire doctrinal systems that fixate on authority, and who has it over whom, and whether it’s shaped like a chain or an umbrella, and you do get the distinct impression that somebody is standing on their head. Somebody’s got something very, very wrong.
Here’s another clue in another flight to Topsyturvydom. Jesus based these paradoxical statements directly on Himself and His own work: “just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve.” The apostle Paul (possibly quoting an early Christian hymn) elaborates on this in a lyrical passage:
Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.
For this reason also, God highly exalted Him, and bestowed on Him the name which is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus EVERY KNEE WILL BOW, of those who are in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and that every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.(Philippians 2:5–11, NASB)
Jesus was God, and Jesus became a servant. Jesus humbled Himself, so the Father exalted Him. It’s upside-down, but it’s true.
It gets even loopier. When God exalted Jesus to the highest place, He made another statement about authority. It casually succeeds in blowing all our discussions about “godly authority” to smithereens:
Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” (Matthew 28:18, NIV).
All authority belongs to Jesus.
“All authority in heaven and on earth,” just so we’re clear it’s all-inclusive. Not “all spiritual authority” or “all authority in the church” or “all authority over My disciples.” Those would be radical enough—but “all” means “all.”
This isn’t anti-authoritarianism. There’s plenty of authority for us to obey—but only Jesus has it. It does not belong to anybody else. It is not given to anybody else. It is not shared with anybody else. If anyone says they have any authority in any context and their name is not Jesus Christ, they are wrong. (And if somebody says his name is Jesus Christ, don’t believe him, unless maybe he starts walking on water.)
After this statement, any discussion about who has “godly authority” is pretty much pointless. Nobody does, except Jesus.
Far from being a passing observation, this fact is tied directly to our salvation:
“For you granted him authority over all people that he might give eternal life to all those you have given him.” (John 17:2, NIV)
Since Jesus has all authority over us, Jesus has authority to save us. Since Jesus has all authority over our lives, Jesus has authority to give us eternal life.
So what then? Don’t get the wrong idea. If your association with “authority” gives you a picture of Jesus sitting at the top of the heap and bossing everyone around, then it’s back to Topsyturvydom we go. Jesus followed His own teaching about authority: authority, He said, is something that should make you act like a servant and wash people’s feet.
So when He had washed their feet, and taken His garments and reclined at the table again, He said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? You call Me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am. If I then, the Lord and the Teacher, washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I gave you an example that you also should do as I did to you.Truly, truly, I say to you, a slave is not greater than his master, nor is one who is sent greater than the one who sent him. If you know these things, you are blessed if you do them.” (John 13:12–17, NASB)
This ties everything so far together. Jesus is in authority over us, and (logically enough) we can’t set ourselves up as superior to our authority. Since Jesus humbled himself and acted like a servant, if we follow Him, we should humble ourselves and serve as well. No one sits higher than the King, and the King is washing people’s feet.
So there we are. If godliness means following Jesus, then “godly authority” is an oxymoron. Godliness is not about authority; godliness is about humility. It’s not about leading; it’s about following (namely, following Jesus). It’s not even about “servant leadership”; it’s about servantship.
But—I hear some people still perplexed with the shock of being turned heels over head—but how on earth does that fit with the way we do things in real life? Doesn’t someone have to have authority in, say, the government? In a marriage? In a church? In a workplace? In a family? Doesn’t the Bible tell us directly to submit to those authorities?
All right then, one last flight to Topsyturvydom. The Bible does tell us to submit, which is appropriate enough considering everything we just saw that Jesus said. But what’s glaringly missing are any corresponding verses that say leaders have authority.
This puts an interesting spin on verses and topics that sometimes become needlessly controversial. Consider husbands and wives (I’m thinking of course of Ephesians 5:21–33). Yes, the Bible says fairly clearly, “Wives, submit to your husbands.” But it follows this statement not with the corollary we’d expect—“Husbands, exercise godly authority over your wives”—but with “Husbands, love your wives like Jesus did for the church,” that is, by sacrificing everything so she can benefit. This makes sense when we consider that Jesus’ kind of love involves washing feet like a servant. What do servants do? They submit.
For that matter, and it is simply amazing how rarely this point gets made, the statements about husbands and wives in context both come immediately after this verse:
Submitting yourselves one to another in the fear of God. (Ephesians 5:21).
Godly submission, yes. Godly authority, not so much.
Well, OK, there is one verse that talks about husbands having authority, but I doubt it will ever become especially popular in the Patriarchy movement. It puts it this way:
For the wife does not have authority over her own body, but the husband does. Likewise the husband does not have authority over his own body, but the wife does. (1 Corinthians 7:4, ESV).
Again, the idea is not patriarchal authority but mutual submission. (You know what, can we just go ahead and say that this verse all by itself proves once and for all that Patriarchy is an unbiblical teaching? I mean, seriously, “the husband does not have authority.” And that’s not just in the physical relationship; it’s the same Greek word for “authority” that Jesus says in Luke 22:25 we shouldn’t have at all.)
It’s the same with other positions that are considered authoritative. The Bible says that we should serve the government, but also that the government should serve us by providing peace and justice (see Romans 13:4). There’s a reason we call them “public servants.”
Again, the Bible says that we should submit to our pastors, elders, spiritual leaders (however you like to translate presbuteros), but also that they should not lord it over anybody, just serve as good examples (see 1 Peter 5:2–3). Paul explains his position as an apostle precisely this way: “Not that we lord it over your faith, but are workers with you for your joy; for in your faith you are standing firm” (2 Corinthians 1:24, NASB).
It might be tempting to misconstrue this and go running around telling our bosses that they’re not the bosses of us. It’s true, technically, they’re not, but to do that you’d have to ignore all the verses before about humility and servantship. I think we’ve gone so topsy-turvy that we’re making figure eights, so it’s probably time to catch our breaths and see the big picture from the air.
The big picture is simple, clear, and beautiful. It’s love.
We’re free. Anybody who tries to forcefully control us or require us to obey is trying to usurp a position that only belongs to Jesus. Conversely, if I want to lord it over anybody, I’m trying to set myself up as the Lord. Men and women alike, husbands and wives alike, pastors and congregation alike, we’re all brothers and sisters, free and equal.
But since we don’t have to submit and serve out of obligation, that means we’re free to submit and serve just because we want to. Just because we love. Since we’re not obliged to make payments, we can give gifts. We can freely sacrifice for others with no other motive but love. We can serve others not because they have authority over us, but because Jesus has authority over us, and Jesus serves from love.
If you want to see what “godly authority” looks like, don’t look to any person but One. Jesus is washing His followers’ feet. Jesus is giving and serving and loving. Jesus is flying upside down, making loops in the air over Topsyturvydom.
Eric M. Pazdziorastill can't fly without an airplane, but music brings him close sometimes. He works as a freelance composer, author, and worship leader, and lives in Chicago with his wife Carrie, several stories above the ground. If you want to hear some of Eric's music or read some more articles, visit his website at ericpazdziora.com.
“And He walks with me and He talks with me, and He tells me I am His own;
And the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known.”
When I was a young pastor an older lady in my church told me that I shouldn’t use the song, “In the Garden,” because it has nothing to do with the Christian walk. She said that it was a song about lovers, rather than the Lord and His servant. I confess that I was puzzled at her words. I didn’t agree, but I didn’t understand why she would say something like that. This was an old song of the church. Surely others didn’t feel that way, did they?
Well, many years have passed since that comment and I have learned a great deal. One of the saddest things I have learned is that many, perhaps the majority, of those who consider themselves Christians have no real idea of Jesus as a friend with whom they can walk and talk and bare their hearts. Instead, they have been taught to view the Lord as a petty and vindictive manager. They try hard not to make Him angry, but live with the idea that He will never really be pleased with them. How sad!
Sad because these poor folks go through their lives without the comfort and peace that comes from knowing the Lord as the most intimate friend. For them He truly is a God who is far away.
Sad because so many have left the faith thinking that God is mean-spirited and inconsistent, if indeed such a god exists at all. They reject the church and the teachings of the Scriptures without ever learning that the Christian faith is first and best a relationship with the One whose love overcomes all barriers.
Sad especially because the Scriptures are so full of the love of God for us. The whole message of the gospel is about that love. It was love that moved the heart of the Father to look past our sin. It was love that led Him to reach out to you and to me and save us through His own suffering. There is a great deal of mystery in all of this, but the message of love is consistent and loud.
Yet, even as I grieve for those who have never known a real relationship with Jesus, I confess that, for me, living in such a relationship is infrequent. The “stuff” of this world pulls my attention away from the One who loves me and often I forget that He is there and I am secure in Him. I understand “dry” times and fear and all those emotions that come from feeling small and unloved.
But then, when I return to those “garden” times, I find Him again and He reassures me and tells me that He has never stopped loving me. He has forgiven all my sin and I am whole and free in Him. As we walk together and talk, my confidence in Him returns and I know that His love will truly conquer all.
Yes, Jesus is a lover far beyond any human lover. He knows my whole story and accepts me. Amazing love!
__________
David Orrison has been a pastor for over 30 years with a sincere desire to help people know the love and grace of the Lord Jesus.He holds a PhD in Theology from Trinity Seminary.He has worked with pastors and other church leaders who have been discouraged by the expectations and failures of ministry.He has also helped parents, spouses, and young people who have been hurt by the legalistic teaching of what he calls, “performance spirituality.”His website, www.gracefortheheart.org, and blog, http://graceformyheart.wordpress.com, have been sources of encouragement and teaching for many.He is available for speaking engagements as well.He and his wife, Alice, have eight sons and live in Colorado.
“In their zeal for producing godly offspring, many well-meaning parents insert themselves in their adult children’s lives in ways that are deeply inappropriate and hinder them from growth and maturity. Addressing the effects of this does not mean they are inherently bad parents or that we aren’t loving or loved. Self-control is a fruit of the Spirit. Healing from over-control and surrendering to the transformation of the Holy Spirit in our lives is crucial to our growth —because it is when we walk in the Spirit that we will not fulfill the lusts of the flesh. Our parents (or pastors, husband, and friends for that matter) cannot walk in the Spirit for us.” —The Over-Controlled Adult Child
In this perverse world, it's important for kids to understand their personal boundaries. "It's not okay for someone else to touch you there," a parent might say. Teaching a child how to keep her body safe involves understanding what is off-limits to others. "This part belongs to just you," she learns. "It's private and no one else is allowed to look at you there. If someone asks or tries to touch you, you scream as loud as you can and run away."
Owning and protecting those private places are essential to being human. Violations are horrific, often causing lifelong pain, injury, and trauma to the body and the heart—as well as legal repercussions for offenders. But we have other areas that need owning and protecting, too. Other parts of us just as private and personal and off-limits to anyone else. We can choose, at appropriate times and for legitimate reasons, to allow ourselves to be influenced or touched by safe people, but self-control is important enough to God to be included in Scripture along with love, faith, and other qualities of the Fruit of the Spirit. Therefore it should be important to us.
Stewardship
As young children, we learn healthy responsibility for ourselves from parents if they model for us appropriate self-control. Over-control, or when those in our lives take over the areas God gives us as our responsibility (or when we do this to others) is serious, especially as we grow into adulthood. Norm Wakefield illustrates from a spiritual perspective why this is dangerous:
Until Marty has a relationship with Jesus, his parents must teach, train, and demand honor and obedience (Eph. 6:1-4). However, once the Holy Spirit indwells him, Marty should be taught to walk by the Spirit in relationship with the heavenly Father. As Jesus told his disciples, "Do not call anyone on earth your father; for One is your Father, He who is in heaven" (Matt. 23:9). As a son starts to walk by the Spirit, an earthly father should encourage his son's decision-making and guidance to come from a personal relationship with the heavenly Father, not himself. To the degree that the father makes the decisions and dictates the lifestyle of his believing son, to that degree he hinders his son's spiritual life. A father's role should decrease just as John the Baptist's role decreased when Jesus appeared (John 3:30). —The Curse of the Standard Bearers
As His creation, we belong to God and yet He gives us stewardship over our own hearts, our bodies, our souls and our minds. These things belong to us. We alone answer for them on Judgment Day. What we answer for, especially where our soul and matters of eternity are concerned, is in our jurisdiction and should not be taken away from us. It's critical to be self-controlled, and when others seek inappropriate degrees of control they hinder the work of the Spirit in our life.
It's no wonder that Jesus calls us to love God with all we've got, with every fiber of our being.“And you shall love the LORD your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind, and with all your strength...” When the ability to do these things of our own volition is taken from us, we must make right this aspect of our lives in order to be whole.
The answer to over-control is found in Romans 12.
I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service. (v.1)
"You" present yourself. Your parents, pastor, husband, and friends cannot appropriately present your body as a living sacrifice. How this looks will be different for everyone, which makes it crucial to hear God's voice and will for your life.
And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God. (v. 2)
Being conformed means to be squeezed from the outside—which is undue influence or control, whether we allow it, or whether it is projected onto us. Transformation, however, comes from within and is a direct result of walking in the Spirit. Let's look again at verse 2, paraphrased according to the understood verbiage of our language:
And [you] do not be conformed to this world, but [you] be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God.
When we are filled with the Spirit and walk in Him, He is the One who renews our minds for the purpose of living in obedience and proving the perfect will of God. Yet when we are hindered by others who insist that we follow their will, or their ideas of what is good and acceptable and perfect, we won't be able to prove God's.
We cannot serve two masters.
The pivotal point in that verse is the renewing of your mind. Only you with the Holy Spirit can renew your mind. God doesn't force Himself on us. Yet mind-control is overwhelmingly present within authoritarian families. Healing from mind-control is essential for us to be free, for where the Spirit of the Lord is there is liberty.
Next week we will begin looking at ways mind control manifests within high-demand groups and compare it with the authoritarian family.
I don't sew much anymore, but when I was six years old, a thoughtful gift from my mom ~ a cookie tin stuffed with my very own red pincushion, thread, buttons, and delightful squares of fabric ~ launched several years of me curling up on my bed, trailing awkward stitches in whatever scraps of calico I could find. I spent hours at Wal-mart looking at rows of colorful cotton, imagining everything I could make with the materials. I loved to create things, to bring beauty and joy using ribbon and satin, rosettes and yarn, muslin and batiste.
As I grew older and perfectionism set in, this affected my sewing as well. Unhappy with the slightest pucker in a hem, I'd rip the whole thing out and start new, fresh. Even though no one else could see interior seams, the slightest fray that I knew was there grated on my mind like nails on chalkboard, prompting me to devour a book from the library on Sewing the Perfect Seam and then transforming simple patterns into French couture ~ on the inside, at least. Sometimes, when projects became hopelessly befuddled and beyond [perfect in my eyes] repair, I abandoned them to my little sisters who gleefully added them to their own collections. It got so bad that at one point, sentimental me-who-keeps-everything threw away the very first project I made with my birthday sewing kit: a floppy little dolly which I thought was dreadfully ugly.
But my mom saw something in her I didn't, fished her out of the trash, and stuck her away in a special place.
_______________________
The thing about perfectionism is that it eventually leads to burnout. It's tough to gather motivation for a new project when we know how draining it is to complete it to standard. It's hard to keep "fighting the good fight" when every day we fail to measure up. Perfectionism becomes a ruthless master, killing, stealing, destroying, and ravaging our lives. Aghast at the efforts of the Galatians, Paul exclaimed, "Are you so foolish? Having begun in the Spirit, are you now being made perfect by the flesh?" (3:3) Yet perfectionists try, and try, and try...growing physically, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually fatigued.
I made her all by myself when I was six. My floppy dolly with crayon eyes and lips. Thank you, mom.
The truth is that God commands us to be holy. Holiness and perfection are not necessarily the same. The sacrificial lambs were required to be perfect, without spot or blemish. The Sacrificial Lamb was holy, set apart, sanctified. For those raised within authoritarian, high-demand, performance-based, image-conscious households, understanding grace comes at a personal cost because our very ideas of faith, goodness, and biblical living are wrapped up in how godly and righteous we can be. Yet what does God say?
Perhaps what we run from most, in ourselves, is what God wants for His glory?
Isn't this the personification of perfectionism: us running from our weaknesses, our failures, our unfinished seams? And in the arduous quest for perfection, are we unwittingly running from grace?
I believe that until we can stop striving for perfection and rest, trusting in the One who justifies the ungodly, grace will remain elusive. Because grace is found through brokenness, through mistakes, through ugly things, through a little dolly swept from the trash bin by a mother who understood something I had yet to learn.
Grace makes the imperfect . . .
holy.
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Discover grace with us on Fridays and link to discoveries of your own...
here’s this sermon I’ve heard a few dozen times. You’ve probably heard it too. It goes like this. Some Christians are really passionate and sold out for the Lord. They do great things. They live righteously. They don’t do anything that could be considered worldly. They only listen to Christian music. They have biblical family values. They’re on fire.
And others? Well, they’re “lukewarm Christians.” Sure, they say they believe, but they’re not that committed. They show up in church to warm the pews, but they still do worldly things. You should see the way they dress and those movies and music they listen to! If only they knew all the right things to do so they could be on fire like us. Jesus says, “So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth” (Rev. 3:16). That, strong children, is why you have to be on fire for the Lord. Let us pray.
Obviously, I can’t object to an exhortation to be more committed to the Lord, and I dislike “easy-believe-ism” as much as the next disillusioned evangelical does. But if you know about Spiritual Abuse, you recognize a few other all-too-familiar themes lurking in the subtext.
There’s a strong temptation to elitism there—you want to be better than all those “lukewarm” folks, don’t you? Legalism’s waiting to pounce, too; it blends in perfectly as long as you define “On fire” as “Doing our things” and “Worldly” as “Not.” All that’s left is for us to spin “I will spit you out of my mouth” as “You might be eternally lost if you don’t do our thing” and we’re practically in cult territory.
But it’s biblical, right? It even has a Bible verse in it, and you can find dozens of people interpreting that verse in exactly that way, pretty much that same sermon, even. Tweak the applications a bit and it’s good for weeks.
Well, there’s one tiny problem: That’s not what that Bible verse means. Actually, it means pretty much the opposite.
Yes, Jesus says He doesn’t like it if you’re “lukewarm.” Yes, Jesus says “I will spit you out of my mouth,” and yes, it’s true (as you’ve probably heard) that that refers to puking. But what makes Jesus want to vomit? Is it really people who claim to follow Him and still (horrors!) watch PG-13 movies with wizards in them? Is it people who claim to follow Him but are just pew-warmers?
Or is it something different? Not just a different token “worldly” action, but a completely different way of thinking about your relationship to the Lord?
The answer, like the answers to most things, is found in context. The context here is the opening chapters of the book of Revelation, that is, the part that you don’t need an advanced degree in theology or screenwriting to interpret. John records letters from Jesus to seven churches in Asia Minor, at once pointing out their sins and shortcomings and encouraging them to stand firm in what faith they have. It’s dynamite stuff; I wish I had time to expound all of it.
The letter with the “lukewarm” verse is the seventh and last, addressed to the church in Laodicea. It begins like this:
14 “To the angel of the church in Laodicea write: The Amen, the faithful and true Witness, the Beginning of the creation of God, says this: 15 ‘I know your deeds, that you are neither cold nor hot; I wish that you were cold or hot.
Already this is a bit confusing, given the standard interpretation. If the “hot” people are those who are “on fire” for the Lord, then the “cold” people must be… atheists? Flagrant sinners? Crooked politicians? Richard Dawkins and his merry band of infidels? Could be, but then why does Jesus say “I wish you were cold or hot” like they’re both equally good? Surely He doesn’t consider it the same to be on fire for Him and stone-cold against Him?
16 ‘So because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of My mouth.
That bit we know. Jesus doesn’t like lukewarm beverages. He spits them out. Insipidity, something that’s the same temperature as the room, doesn’t do it for Him.
That’s obviously a metaphor for something (unless you’re a hyper-literalist and think that Jesus drinks people). Yet there’s no mention of the behaviors we’re often told are “worldly.” Is Jesus speaking in riddles, or will He explain what He means? What’s the difference between “hot” and “cold”? What makes a person “lukewarm”?
The next verse tells us. Specifically. It even starts with “Because” so we won’t miss that it’s connected. Here’s why Jesus gets nauseated by “lukewarm” believers:
17 ‘Because you say, “I am rich, and have become wealthy, and have need of nothing,” and you do not know that you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked…
Oh.
Well, that’s not what they told us it meant.
The “lukewarm” people Jesus is criticizing think they have it all together, but they don’t. They think they are rich when they are actually poor; they think they can see when they are really blind; they think they need nothing when they are living on the streets. They have the worst of both worlds—all the smugness of wealth and all the neediness of poverty. They need help, but they think they’re well off.
This makes the rest of Jesus’ metaphor perfectly clear. “Lukewarm,” obviously, means a mixture of hot and cold, producing something bland and tepid. The Laodicean church combined feelings of passion for the Lord (hot) with the condition of being apart from the Lord (cold). The result is horrible: people in spiritual need who can’t recognize it because they think they’re doing great.
“Lukewarm” means “self-righteous.”
A “lukewarm Christian” is not somebody who claims to follow Jesus but also does worldly things. It’s somebody who says “I don’t do worldly things, so I’m living in God’s will.”
A “lukewarm Christian” is not somebody who claims to follow Jesus but only shows up on Sundays. It’s somebody who says, “God must be pleased with my devoted church attendance.”
A “lukewarm Christian” is not somebody who doesn’t have a quiver full of children. It’s somebody who says, “I have biblical family values, so I’m more sold out to the Lord than those feminists are.”
Lukewarm Christians are satisfied in themselves. Lukewarm Christians are proud of their spiritual commitment and pleased with all that they do for the Lord. Lukewarm Christians believe that they are living the right way, with all the right values, and all the right methods, and all the right works.
Except they aren’t. The fact that lukewarmness—self-righteousness—nauseates the Lord matches what He said (terrifyingly) about people who won’t make it into heaven:
“Many will say to Me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name, and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name perform many miracles?’ And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; DEPART FROM ME, YOU WHO PRACTICE LAWLESSNESS.’” (Matthew 7:22–23)
These people did great works for the Lord—even miracles—and thought well of themselves, but they missed their need for the Lord Himself. Jesus said, “Only one thing is needful,” and it isn’t to do great works for Him. Jesus wants us to trust Him, rest in Him, believe in Him, see our need for Him, get to know Him, let Him get to know us. That’s all one thing: it’s called Faith.
That may explain why Jesus says “I wish you were cold or hot.” If you’re “hot,” then of course you’re exactly where the Lord wants you to be—surrendering to the All-Consuming Fire. You’re seeing your need of Him and depending on Him to burn away your impurities and kindle your love.
If you’re “cold,” you’re apart from Him—and you feel it. Sometimes we have to hit the bottom before we learn to look up. As Martin Luther said, if you’re going to sin, you may as well sin boldly. None of this socially respectable stuff. Try it all, if that’s what it will take for you to see it doesn’t satisfy. When the Prodigal wound up in a pigsty, he realized how good his father really was. The sooner you get to the end of your rope, the sooner you’ll see your need to be rescued.
Being “cold” is just as good as being “hot,” from a salvific standpoint, because in both cases you’re seeing your need, insufficiency, and helplessness, and coming to depend on Jesus for His grace, forgiveness, and righteousness. The one fatal condition is to be needy while depending on your own righteousness. That’s disgusting. That will get you spit out of Jesus’ mouth. That’s lukewarm.
The point is not that we should be lazy, worldly, or half-hearted in our commitment to Jesus. The point is that there are much worse sins than laziness or worldliness. As C. S. Lewis said, “A cold, self-righteous prig who goes regularly to church may be far nearer to hell than a prostitute. But, of course, it is better to be neither.”
What’s the cure for lukewarmness? Jesus (again) tells us exactly in context. Here’s the rest of His letter:
18 ‘I advise you to buy from Me gold refined by fire so that you may become rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself, and that the shame of your nakedness will not be revealed; and eye salve to anoint your eyes so that you may see. 19 ‘Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline; therefore be zealous and repent. 20 ‘Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will dine with him, and he with Me. 21 ‘He who overcomes, I will grant to him to sit down with Me on My throne, as I also overcame and sat down with My Father on His throne. 22 ‘He who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says to the churches.’”
The answer is to look to Jesus. It’s to see your need and see that only Jesus can fill it. It’s to ask Him to give you whatever it takes to fill it, and to give up anything it takes to get it. It’s to let Jesus enrich you, cover you, heal you.
There’s hope. Jesus counts even the “lukewarm” people among “those whom I love”; otherwise He wouldn’t take the trouble to correct them. It’s never too late to repent and open the door to friendship with Christ. If you let Jesus sit down with you at your table, He’ll let you sit down with Him on His throne.
If you simply do that—if you open the door to Jesus, trust in Him, get to know Him, and let Him help you overcome your self-righteousness—then you’re not lukewarm anymore. You’re one who overcomes. You’re on fire.
Don’t let any of the lukewarm Christians tell you otherwise.
Eric M. Pazdziora is a recovering legalist, but doesn't like to boast about it. These days, he mostly writes words and music. He lives in Chicago with his beautiful wife Carrie and his spoiled cat Eloise. If you want to hear some of Eric's music or read some more articles, visit his website at ericpazdziora.com.
When I was little, I had a child's pocketbook story that illustrated, in soft pastels, the fruits of the Spirit. I could recite them in thirds like a clumsy waltz: "Love, joy, peace. Long-suffering, kindness, goodness. Faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. Mom, what is long-suffering?" I kept these fruits close and studied them, for they were the marks of good Christians and mature people.
Patience was my nemesis. "Help me to be patient and kind!" I mourned daily, prayerfully. As the oldest, I regret how often I bossed my siblings and acted without love and gentleness. I didn't struggle with lack of faithfulness much; I was very loyal to others and while I might have felt unfaithful if I only read my Bible once per day, I placed the highest priority on my time in Scripture. My love for Jesus and desire to be found faithful drove me to invest in my spirituality.
But without a doubt, the most challenging fruit was self-control. It covered everything about me ~ watch what filled my mind, guard my thoughts, don't eat too much, don't overreact, watch what I say, exercise, and so forth. And as I grew, my concerned parents were careful to shelter me according to their best judgment from negative influences, ungodliness, the "world", and anything detrimental. Their control ~ of me, my environment, and my spiritual and psychological growth ~ was the result of careful consideration and their understanding of Scripture and righteousness.
The adult child
The onset of adulthood is a convoluted subject within many conservative Christian homes. The legal age of 18 doesn't always carry weight for those concerned with being "not of the world." Yet as children mature and reach adulthood, healthy parents will relinquish the control they assume upon their offspring and trust them to God. However, as we see all-too-frequently within authoritarian households, excessive control upon adult children creates serious stumbling blocks that must be removed before we can continue to become spiritually, physically, emotionally, and mentally healthy and mature.
Within Christian parenting, an oft-quoted Scripture is found in Proverbs 22. "Train up a child in the way he should go," says verse 6, "and when he is old he will not depart from it." How this is done varies from family to family ~ rightfully so ~ and should even vary from child to child. But there is another passage with similar wording that caught my attention recently. God, the ultimate Parent, speaks to us:
"I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will guide you with My eye. Do not be like the horse or like the mule, which have no understanding, which must be harnessed with bit and bridle, else they will not come near you." (Ps. 32:8-9)
The only way we can fully be open to His instruction, teaching, and personal guidance is to be self-controlled. Essentially this means not harnessed by any other person. With deep respect for parents trying to get it right, this also means that when we as adults are under the control of our parents, we are not fully submitted to God. And as long as we aren't wholly submitted to our heavenly Father, as long as we look to someone else, rather than the Holy Spirit, to instruct and teach us, our hearts will be divided.
"But you, do not be called ‘Rabbi’; for One is your Teacher, the Christ, and you are all brethren. Do not call anyone on earth your father; for One is your Father, He who is in heaven. And do not be called teachers; for One is your Teacher, the Christ." (Matthew 23:8-10)
Parental over-control
Unfortunately, many Christian parents treat their adult children as though they must be harnessed with bit and bridle so that they will "come near you" ~ do what they want, meet their needs or ideals, achieve performance and desired behavior. In their zeal for producing godly offspring, many well-meaning parents insert themselves in their adult children's lives in ways that are deeply inappropriate and hinders them from growth and maturity.
Addressing the effects of this does not mean they are inherently bad parents or that we aren't loving or loved. Self-control is a fruit of the Spirit. Healing from over-control and surrendering to the transformation of the Holy Spirit in our lives is crucial to our growth ~ because it is when we walk in the Spirit that we will not fulfill the lusts of the flesh. Our parents (or pastors, husband, and friends for that matter) cannot walk in the Spirit for us.
Please join me next week for my new series about control.
Question for you:
As an adult, perhaps even married with a family of your own, what areas of your life are still controlled by your parents? Physical control is what we think of most, but what about emotional control? Mind control? How does this affect your thinking, your living, your decisions, emotions, your significant relationships? This isn't to cast blame or to find fault, but to identify the areas of our lives that need to be healed and placed in order for God's glory.
Note: adult children from controlling households know the difference between over-control and simply "not getting their way." Comments that accuse or somehow suggest that the child is merely rebellious or restricted or prohibited from doing "what they want" are not helpful or edifying and will be deleted.
I've met some awesome bloggers through Elizabeth Esther's monthly Saturday Evening Blogpost...and I think you will too! Find a favorite post you wrote in August, link it in her linky box and leave a comment, then create a post at your own site inviting readers to join, too! I am revisiting my post "Counterfeit Patriarchy" and hope that it bless you...
And don't forget, my own linky box is still open if you'd like to participate in our Journey to Grace. Have a lovely weekend, friends!!
I barely catch them, these words. Whispers. They linger, and for a moment she looks as though she didn't speak at all, that I heard her soul's cry in silence. We sit, she and I, and her children climb across our knees, laughing and boisterous like little boys are, and the silence swirls, inviting and deafening, and tears fall.
"I don't know if I mean home home, like heaven, or that I want to go back and be a little girl in a world where everything is okay and life doesn't hurt. I'm tired of fighting to stay alive."
Caleb pounds me with his cotton elephant and shrieks with glee, two ivory teeth glistening with laughter. His mother weeps. "I think I miss the idea of what should be, what should've been." Eyes gather her babies with love and longing. "Then I feel guilty. I want it all to stop ~ I want it all to go away."
Sometimes silence respects aching in mysterious ways, with quiet prayers cast heavenward rather than hesitant, awkward condolences. At least, I hope so as I fling them now, hurling quick, desperate pleas to the Keeper of our Eternal Home.
She gulps breath, dries eyes on sleeve. I'm reminded of another sleeve: a hem, dusty, crowd-stained, grasped in desperate hands so long ago. She speaks once more: "I don't know how to make it end. I just know that it has to."
Priceless, these fragments of a broken heart. Warm with crimson traces of a thousand untold stories, she hands them over; my fingers drip, receiving. My own heart weeps. I think of other hands that bled so long ago and I share the burden; I hold the splinters close, and pray.
A
nd us wounded ones who have lost parts of ourselves in the battle, who walk around with gaping, bleeding emptiness, who feel the longing for something we have lost but can never seem to find, who yearn for a home that always seems to elude us and a wholeness that is never quite ours, perhaps that aching is itself an answer from God? That our craving for Him is a way of experiencing Him. And in our hungering for God, we are slowly healed by God.
Like an aging veteran or rape survivor carries memory in flesh,* we have home memory. For those of us whose thoughts of home are bittersweet, who yearn to replace, relive, and redeem, the emptiness can be especially sharp. We are born with it, this innate beacon that draws us, calls us, knows what should be. We are created for home. It is no coincidence, I think, that the very idea of wholeness embedded in homeostasis begins with it. Home. What we were made for, where our heart goes and spirit returns.
He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also He has put eternity in their hearts, except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end. (Ecclesiastes 3:11)
Do not marvel that I said to you, ‘You must be born again.’ The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear the sound of it, but cannot tell where it comes from and where it goes. So is everyone who is born of the Spirit. (John 3:7-8)
Birth is a journey made in darkness, in travail and aching, in rawness and blood. He launches us in secret, our skin and bone, and in another shadowed womb, He completes us, makes us beautiful and whole in the fullness of time. The wind blows where it wishes. Who is to say when we are finished being born? Our Redeemer doesn't miss a tear and doesn't waste our pain, and it is in this unwasted aching we find grace. Sometimes the labor is long, yet with pain comes life. Birth brings us home.
But now, thus says the LORD, who created you, O Jacob, And He who formed you, O Israel: “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by your name; You are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they shall not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned, Nor shall the flame scorch you. For I am the LORD your God . . .” (Isaiah 43:1-3a)
I'd love to hear your thoughts about grace: your questions, your conclusions, your light-bulb moments. Insert a direct link into MckLinky and then compose a post at your own site, linking back to this article so others can follow with us. I look forward to discovering more of grace with you. For more information, please click here.
*Note: graphic and potentially triggering link appropriate for mature readers. Please view with discernment.
Discover grace with us on Fridays and link to discoveries of your own...
few years ago, I played a game of “Duck, Duck, Goose.” It was me, a few other teachers, and a room full of energetic 6–9 year olds. I sometimes find myself in odd situations like this. I’m never quite sure why.
This is the game where everyone sits in a circle and takes turns picking one person to play the part that everyone wants to play, namely “Run around the circle like a maniac and try to catch the person who picked you.” The suspense is horrible—“Duck… duck… duck…”—is it going to be you? Are they going to say “Goose?” Are you going to get to run? Thirty-five children screaming “Pick me, pick me!” But only the Goose gets to run.
Well, a pleasant enough way to burn energy for twenty minutes or so, I suppose. (My own preference in children’s game is “Everybody Just Go Ahead and Run Like a Maniac and Get It Over With,” which may be why they didn’t usually put me in charge of games.)
Afterward, we gathered the children together to move on to the next activity. One little girl, Jasmine, wouldn’t join the line. She stood off toward the corner, not saying a word. Jasmine was in my group, so I hung back to talk with her and make sure everything was OK.
At first she wouldn’t say anything. Finally she looked up at me, trying bravely to hold back the tears, and said three words. “Nobody picked me.”
My heart broke.
I knew what that was like, not being picked. There are memories I still can’t bear to remember. The lonely kid on the playground, the last one picked for the ball team, playing by himself because nobody else would—You’re me, Jasmine. That was me. Nobody picked me, either.
I said the only thing in the world I could think of to say, which I knew was hardly any comfort at all. “Well, the next time we play I’ll pick you, OK?”
She nodded. I hadn’t made it any better but I’d made it bearable.
We played a different game the next week and the week after that. A few weeks later it was time for “Duck, Duck, Goose” again. Thirty-five eager faces waiting to be picked. Duck, duck, duck.
Somehow it was my turn to pick. (Duck, duck, duck.)
This time there was no suspense at all. Just delight. Goose. I picked Jasmine.
I don’t remember whether I let her catch me. I remember her running, and I remember her smile. You couldn’t buy that smile with a million dollars. It was like Christmas morning. It was pure joy.
I know, I sound embarrassingly gallant, but really it was the only possible decent thing to have done. If you’d seen those big brown eyes looking up at you, you’d have done exactly the same. It comes so naturally. You want those eyes to smile. Only a wicked witch or the devil or an ogre or something like that could look at Jasmine trying not to cry and say “Nah, I don’t pick you. I pick someone else instead.”
This is how I believe in God. If my heart breaks and I can’t help but choose a little girl to run because she wants to, and if God is infinitely more loving than I am, then God is not a God of exclusion. He can’t be. It’s just impossible. God is love. God chooses. God picked you.
For we know, brothers loved by God, that he has chosen you. (1 Thessalonians 1:4)
But we should always give thanks to God for you, brethren beloved by the Lord, because God has chosen you from the beginning for salvation through sanctification by the Spirit and faith in the truth. (2 Thessalonians 2:13)
He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and blameless before Him. In love He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. (Ephesians 1:4-6)
It’s unfortunate that some systems of theology take Scriptures like these and spin them into questions about predestination and determinism and free will and who gets into heaven and who gets left out. There’s room in Scripture to discuss those, of course, but not here. These verses were not written to speculate about eternal destiny but to encourage you. You’re loved. You’re chosen.
God’s “choice” is intertwined with His love. The answer to the question “Who does God choose?” in these verses is specifically “You.” God loves you, so God chose you. If you’ve always wanted to be chosen, there’s Somebody who always wants to choose you.
Our problem is that, as humans, we think of choice as exclusionary. “I pick A” means “I skip B.” I order chicken for dinner, so I won’t get steak. Even in “Duck, Duck, Goose” it’s the same. I picked Jasmine, so I had to let 34 children pass by and hope that they got picked later.
But God’s ways are not ours. As Henri Nouwen has said, when God chooses, He’s choosing to include, not to exclude. These verses say God chooses, not that He rejects. He loves, not that He overlooks. God would certainly choose Jasmine because He loves her and wants her to be happy—and God loves everyone. There’s nobody God wants to leave out. There’s nobody God doesn’t want to play.
Sure, maybe Jasmine could have chosen not to run even though I picked her. (Again with that predestination/free will tension.) And Scripture seems clear enough that not all people will be saved. But is that because God—“who desires all people to be saved” (1 Tim. 2:4)—didn’t or wouldn’t choose them? Well, anyone who is lost goes away quite literally overGod’s dead body, nailed to a board for the sins of the world. That’s one worth pondering.
In the end, all doctrinal speculations aside, we can say two things for sure. God loves you, and God does not reject you. Maybe everyone else will reject you. Maybe you’ll never get picked to play with the team. Even if you don’t have any friends, even if you’re rejected by your parents or your peers, even if you think nobody likes you, God loves you. God picks you. You’re chosen.
The picture to have in your mind when you think about God’s choice is not a big mass of people with some getting picked and some not. It’s that one little kid, hoping and hoping that maybe this time she’ll be picked to play, maybe this time she won’t have to be alone, maybe this time she won’t be a Duck, maybe somebody likes her after all.
And then she gets picked first.
Goose!
Eric M. Pazdziora never could get the hang of Thursdays, so he's spending them here. When he's not doing whatever it is he does, he works as a freelance composer, author, and worship leader. He lives in Chicago with his wife Carrie, who is much better looking. If you want to hear some music Eric wrote or read some more articles like this, check out ericpazdziora.com.
on't forget to join us for tomorrow's feature with Eric Pazdziora, and on Friday for the first step in our Journey to Grace. I sincerely hope you will be blessed. Again, I invite you to link to your own compositions as we will dig deeply into God's grace, seeking Him in the quiet reflections and overwhelming occurrences of daily life, in Scripture, and through His Spirit. Question for you: if you are an adult "quivering daughter", what do you find is the most difficult stumbling block in your walk of faith, and why?
The Bible?
Depression?
Shame?
Fear?
Hypocrisy?
Other?
Please feel free to comment anonymously if you prefer.
If I ascend into heaven, You are there;
If I make my bed in hell, behold, You are there.
Are they going to say “Goose?” Are you going to get to run? Thirty-five children screaming “Pick me, pick me!” But only the Goose gets to run. 
on't forget to join us for tomorrow's feature with 
