I ran across a book the other day written by a Palestinian physician who suffered catastrophic loss in 2009 when two shells from an Israeli tanker exploded in the room next to him, killing three of his daughters and a niece. Even though he is angry, he strives to act as a righteous man, demonstrating that feeling angry is not the same as hate. His book is entitled, I Shall Not Hate.
That moving declaration reminded me of an experience of my own, many years ago. The circumstances were far less horrendous, but the lesson remains the same. “I will not hate.”
While our baby daughter and I were happily bonding, her father was removing himself farther and farther away. He was absent, even when he was home. We did have some happy days, but mostly he withdrew because being a husband and father was just too hard, far more demanding than the fantasy family he had envisioned in his mind. He was not a mean man—immature and self-absorbed and neglectful, but not mean. After several years, knowing my unhappiness, he asked, “Would it be easier if I left?” then admitted that he did not have the ego strength to do that. In the end, I would have to choose.
I agonized whether to go or to stay. I have long since forgotten the title and author of a book I picked up and read during that crazy-making time of decision. The author related her own experience of schizophrenia and treatment for the illness. During her lengthy hospitalization, she developed a strong romantic attachment to another patient, but the relationship ended badly when she was well enough to return home. She became very bitter and angry, blaming everyone for this lost love. I'll never forget the counsel her doctor gave to her, for it guided me through the painful days ahead of me. “You must learn to say goodbye without hating.” I was determined to do that. I. Will. Do. That. Over and over, I pledged to myself, “If I have to say goodbye, I will say it without hating.”
Of course, no marriage succeeds or fails through the actions of only one of the partners, but it was an honorable thing for this man to say to me, “I am sorry. It was my fault.” I respect that. The words are still true that I said to him before I drove away, “Thank you for the good times. Because there were some good times.” I kept the promise I had made to myself: I said goodbye without hating.
Feelings come and go. Anger cools off, disappointment fades, desire burns low—unless we decide to nurture them. Then love becomes a choice, and hate becomes an act of the will. That is why the doctor-author can affirm, “I shall not hate.” That is why, during the times in my life when I have had to say a goodbye, God has helped me to say it without hating.
Marjorie
Showing posts with label choice. Show all posts
Showing posts with label choice. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
Love Thinks No Evil
Not long ago I read again the story of the Amish schoolhouse killings in 2006, and marveled at the extraordinary forgiveness demonstrated by the community.
One of the fathers told his son "We mustn't think evil." (King James scripture tells us that love thinks no evil.) What does that mean, I wondered? Maybe he really meant—and I have to admire it—"Don't judge the man who did this; don't dwell on it." At the same time, are we not to recognize that what this man did was a heinous crime? Are we not to think that his deeds—and the intentions he demonstrably had but did not carry out—were anything but evil? Should he not have to suffer consequences? (Actually, he did take his own life.) This idea troubles me.
We sometimes take only Jesus' admonition, "Judge not" and omit the rest of what He said. "Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. (Matthew 7:1, 2 NIV) Jesus was aiming at hypocrites, those who would want "justice for you and mercy for me." He made it clear enough that we can spot those who falsely make claims by examining the fruit of their lives. When I go to the store, I can pick a good melon or pass by the bruised peaches. Yes, I am judging! In much the same way, I look for evidence of spiritual life and health. But a warning! My criteria for that "judgment" will certainly be used for my life also. As I judge others, I too will be judged by them.
"To the pure, all things are pure." I read once that this means those who think purely—clearly, without personal agenda—see things as they really are. I would hope that we can think straight enough to see that this terrible incident in the Amish community was "purely evil," entirely, wholly wrong. In that sense, we judge. We are not the ones who make a legal judgment; judges and juries do that. We do not make an eternal one; only God can do that. But let us not confuse "thinking no evil" with closing our eyes to terrible realities. Wrong is wrong, however you look at it. The option we have is choosing whether to take it into ourselves and let it fester or to maintain attention on what is true and noble and just. (See Philippians 5:8)
Marjorie
Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright©1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.
One of the fathers told his son "We mustn't think evil." (King James scripture tells us that love thinks no evil.) What does that mean, I wondered? Maybe he really meant—and I have to admire it—"Don't judge the man who did this; don't dwell on it." At the same time, are we not to recognize that what this man did was a heinous crime? Are we not to think that his deeds—and the intentions he demonstrably had but did not carry out—were anything but evil? Should he not have to suffer consequences? (Actually, he did take his own life.) This idea troubles me.
We sometimes take only Jesus' admonition, "Judge not" and omit the rest of what He said. "Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. (Matthew 7:1, 2 NIV) Jesus was aiming at hypocrites, those who would want "justice for you and mercy for me." He made it clear enough that we can spot those who falsely make claims by examining the fruit of their lives. When I go to the store, I can pick a good melon or pass by the bruised peaches. Yes, I am judging! In much the same way, I look for evidence of spiritual life and health. But a warning! My criteria for that "judgment" will certainly be used for my life also. As I judge others, I too will be judged by them.
"To the pure, all things are pure." I read once that this means those who think purely—clearly, without personal agenda—see things as they really are. I would hope that we can think straight enough to see that this terrible incident in the Amish community was "purely evil," entirely, wholly wrong. In that sense, we judge. We are not the ones who make a legal judgment; judges and juries do that. We do not make an eternal one; only God can do that. But let us not confuse "thinking no evil" with closing our eyes to terrible realities. Wrong is wrong, however you look at it. The option we have is choosing whether to take it into ourselves and let it fester or to maintain attention on what is true and noble and just. (See Philippians 5:8)
Marjorie
Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright©1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Live by What You Know
It's disheartening to be dismissed or rejected by people we do not know well, but we may feel a whole range of greater emotion if we are betrayed by someone we trusted: anger, disappointment, self-pity, even revenge. David expresses all of these in Psalm 55, written probably under the persecution of Saul and his adherents or when his own son Absalom conspired against him. "It is not an enemy who taunts me—I could bear that. It is not my foes who so arrogantly insult me—I could have hidden from them. Instead, it is you—my equal, my companion and close friend. What good fellowship we once enjoyed as we walked together to the house of God. Let death stalk my enemies; let the grave swallow them alive, for evil makes its home within them." (verses 55:12-15)
But listen as David replies to himself. "But I will call on God, and the Lord will rescue me. Morning, noon, and night I cry out in my distress, and the Lord hears my voice. He ransoms me and keeps me safe from the battle waged against me, though many still oppose me. God, who has ruled forever, will hear me and humble them." (12-19)
Again he complains, "As for my companion, he betrayed his friends; he broke his promises. His words are as smooth as butter, but in his heart is war. His words are as soothing as lotion, but underneath are daggers!" And again, he assures and comforts himself, "Give your burdens to the Lord, and he will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall." (20-22)
In many ways, David's experiences forecast those of the Lord Himself. He came unto His own and His own received Him not, the Scripture explains, and says further that He is (not just was, long ago) despised and rejected of men. Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve disciples, went to the leading priests to arrange to betray Jesus to them. They were glad see him when they heard why he had come, and promised to give him money for his ugly deed. He began then to plan for an opportunity to betray Jesus. Worst of all, Jesus endured feeling abandoned and cried from the cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Yet, at the very last, in spite of violence to body and soul, He acknowledged the presence of His Father by saying, "Into Thy hands I commend my spirit."
David had to live by what he knew rather than by what he could see or what he felt. Jesus had to live by what He knew rather than by what He could see or what He felt. When we feel hounded by circumstances, betrayed by people, perhaps even disappointed in ourselves, we are called to meet the challenge: Live by what you know, not by what you can see or what you feel.
Marjorie
Scripture quotations are taken from The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. United States of America. All rights reserved.
But listen as David replies to himself. "But I will call on God, and the Lord will rescue me. Morning, noon, and night I cry out in my distress, and the Lord hears my voice. He ransoms me and keeps me safe from the battle waged against me, though many still oppose me. God, who has ruled forever, will hear me and humble them." (12-19)
Again he complains, "As for my companion, he betrayed his friends; he broke his promises. His words are as smooth as butter, but in his heart is war. His words are as soothing as lotion, but underneath are daggers!" And again, he assures and comforts himself, "Give your burdens to the Lord, and he will take care of you. He will not permit the godly to slip and fall." (20-22)
In many ways, David's experiences forecast those of the Lord Himself. He came unto His own and His own received Him not, the Scripture explains, and says further that He is (not just was, long ago) despised and rejected of men. Judas Iscariot, one of the twelve disciples, went to the leading priests to arrange to betray Jesus to them. They were glad see him when they heard why he had come, and promised to give him money for his ugly deed. He began then to plan for an opportunity to betray Jesus. Worst of all, Jesus endured feeling abandoned and cried from the cross, "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?" Yet, at the very last, in spite of violence to body and soul, He acknowledged the presence of His Father by saying, "Into Thy hands I commend my spirit."
David had to live by what he knew rather than by what he could see or what he felt. Jesus had to live by what He knew rather than by what He could see or what He felt. When we feel hounded by circumstances, betrayed by people, perhaps even disappointed in ourselves, we are called to meet the challenge: Live by what you know, not by what you can see or what you feel.
Marjorie
Scripture quotations are taken from The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. United States of America. All rights reserved.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Accepting Reality
Accepting something does not necessarily mean we welcome it or even like it now that it's here. Acceptance means we stop trying to change what is. (Can you stand to hear one more person say, "It is what it is"? However, that is often the truth about the situation—it simply is.)
Some of us are cautious when it comes to acceptance. We are afraid it might mean pretending things don't matter. It does not. And neither does it mean becoming hardened to people and their problems—or refusing to recognize that we too have needs and problems. Accepting reality does not mean we are weak, apt to be a pushover for anyone who would take advantage of us. You can't push a rope.
Accepting reality means, among other things, that we stop trying to change situations that cannot be changed. This would include things already in the past. In our more rational moments, we know that we cannot change what has already taken place; we cannot make something "un-happen." Still, in our minds, we go over and over the situation as though fussing with it once more will surely yield a different outcome this time. Our energy should be poured instead into working with the present situation to transform it into what it ought to be, here and now. Take advice from "Mother Goose," apparently a very wise old lady. A rhyme from the seventeenth century says,
The Serenity Prayer is the common name given to some lines, written perhaps as early as 1934 and originally untitled, attributed to the theologian Reinhold Niebuhr.
4"I've told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I've conquered the world."
4"If I make you light-bearers, you don't think I'm going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I'm putting you on a light stand. Now that I've put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven."
4"I will talk to the Father, and he'll provide you another Friend so that you will always have someone with you. This Friend is the Spirit of Truth. The godless world can't take him in because it doesn't have eyes to see him, doesn't know what to look for. But you know him already because he has been staying with you, and will even be in you!" (John 16:33; Matthew 5:15, 16; John 14:16, 17)
Marjorie
Scripture taken from The Message. Copyright © 2003 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.
Some of us are cautious when it comes to acceptance. We are afraid it might mean pretending things don't matter. It does not. And neither does it mean becoming hardened to people and their problems—or refusing to recognize that we too have needs and problems. Accepting reality does not mean we are weak, apt to be a pushover for anyone who would take advantage of us. You can't push a rope.
Accepting reality means, among other things, that we stop trying to change situations that cannot be changed. This would include things already in the past. In our more rational moments, we know that we cannot change what has already taken place; we cannot make something "un-happen." Still, in our minds, we go over and over the situation as though fussing with it once more will surely yield a different outcome this time. Our energy should be poured instead into working with the present situation to transform it into what it ought to be, here and now. Take advice from "Mother Goose," apparently a very wise old lady. A rhyme from the seventeenth century says,
For every ailment under the sunOther situations cannot be changed because we do not have control over other people's attitudes and actions. Accepting reality means we release the idea that we do possess that power. (I'm not suggesting that we give up on socializing our children and others for whom we are responsible, but even there, we are limited.) We cannot make another person change. We have to accept that they are the way they are. We may not like or approve of their behavior and we may encourage change, but we cannot make them do so. Force does not work. Other people too are like a rope that cannot be pushed!
There is a remedy, or there is none;
If there be one, try to find it;
If there be none, never mind it.
The Serenity Prayer is the common name given to some lines, written perhaps as early as 1934 and originally untitled, attributed to the theologian Reinhold Niebuhr.
God, grant me the serenityThese modern writers are only echoing what Jesus said:
To accept the things I cannot change;
The courage to change the things that I can;
And the wisdom to know the difference.
4"I've told you all this so that trusting me, you will be unshakable and assured, deeply at peace. In this godless world you will continue to experience difficulties. But take heart! I've conquered the world."
4"If I make you light-bearers, you don't think I'm going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I'm putting you on a light stand. Now that I've put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you'll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven."
4"I will talk to the Father, and he'll provide you another Friend so that you will always have someone with you. This Friend is the Spirit of Truth. The godless world can't take him in because it doesn't have eyes to see him, doesn't know what to look for. But you know him already because he has been staying with you, and will even be in you!" (John 16:33; Matthew 5:15, 16; John 14:16, 17)
Marjorie
Scripture taken from The Message. Copyright © 2003 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Making People Happy
For a lot of years, I assumed I had the responsibility for making the people around me happy. Now I still think I'm obliged to seek their good, but I no longer believe that other folks' happiness rests on my shoulders.
Happiness is a very personal thing, and it comes from within more than from the outside. Some people are just always going to be unhappy, and nothing that you or I do is going to change that. They are expecting their circumstances and the people around them to furnish them with the good feelings they like to have. There are, of course, many external things that are pleasant and enjoyable, but those who are truly happy have discovered a better and more lasting source. Abraham Lincoln said, "Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be," and long before Lincoln's time, Aristotle (384-322 BC) declared "Happiness depends upon ourselves."
It is easy for women, especially those who are naturally inclined toward compassion and nurturing, to fall into a "care-taking" role for everybody. There will always be needy people around them who seem to have a special instinct for homing in on someone who will think for them, decide for them, and fill their emotional needs. The line of action for these dependent friends is making us feel that no one else can do for them what we can, that we are their greatest source of kindness, that we are the only person they know who's acting like a Christian, that they have no one else on whom they can count.
We may respond easily to this approach, because we do want to be kind, loving, and generous. We do want to be thoroughly Christian in our attitudes and actions. It makes us feel good if this needy one singles us out as this kind of champion. However, our motives have then become clouded with self-interest, and we cannot see as clearly as we might. Do you suppose there is some reason they have no other friends? In all likelihood, they have worn them out. If we allow it and unknowingly encourage it, they will do the very same to us.
How can we refuse when a friend, relative or even our own adult child asks pathetically, "But why won't you do this for me? . . . stay here with me? . . . drive me there? . . . let me borrow? . . . "We can say "You know, I just can't give you any more help with that than I have already given you. Why don't you call a . . . lawyer, counselor, banker, service-provider?" Even with youngsters who whine, "But why not?" we are not accountable for providing endless entertainment, infinite amounts of money, and privileges that are continually unaccompanied by any personal responsibility on their part. We may say, "I believe it wouldn't be good for you if I did that for you. Maybe you can try . . . "
Although we may think we will just go ahead and make the personal sacrifices regardless, what is likely to happen is that we will become weary of being used. We will begin to resent the demands and then feeling guilty about that, we mercilessly punish ourselves for our lack of charity. We may be angry at the person for the problem they have become to us, or we may be angry at ourselves for allowing them to continue. What we should have handled in firm but loving action has been turned in on ourselves. Read "Acting In" (here)
Re-think your relationships if everyone has chosen you, and your friends are not ones you have chosen—or would choose, if you had it to do over. Although we want to encourage rich and rewarding relationships, no one's happiness depends on you.
Marjorie
Happiness is a very personal thing, and it comes from within more than from the outside. Some people are just always going to be unhappy, and nothing that you or I do is going to change that. They are expecting their circumstances and the people around them to furnish them with the good feelings they like to have. There are, of course, many external things that are pleasant and enjoyable, but those who are truly happy have discovered a better and more lasting source. Abraham Lincoln said, "Most folks are about as happy as they make up their minds to be," and long before Lincoln's time, Aristotle (384-322 BC) declared "Happiness depends upon ourselves."
It is easy for women, especially those who are naturally inclined toward compassion and nurturing, to fall into a "care-taking" role for everybody. There will always be needy people around them who seem to have a special instinct for homing in on someone who will think for them, decide for them, and fill their emotional needs. The line of action for these dependent friends is making us feel that no one else can do for them what we can, that we are their greatest source of kindness, that we are the only person they know who's acting like a Christian, that they have no one else on whom they can count.
We may respond easily to this approach, because we do want to be kind, loving, and generous. We do want to be thoroughly Christian in our attitudes and actions. It makes us feel good if this needy one singles us out as this kind of champion. However, our motives have then become clouded with self-interest, and we cannot see as clearly as we might. Do you suppose there is some reason they have no other friends? In all likelihood, they have worn them out. If we allow it and unknowingly encourage it, they will do the very same to us.
How can we refuse when a friend, relative or even our own adult child asks pathetically, "But why won't you do this for me? . . . stay here with me? . . . drive me there? . . . let me borrow? . . . "We can say "You know, I just can't give you any more help with that than I have already given you. Why don't you call a . . . lawyer, counselor, banker, service-provider?" Even with youngsters who whine, "But why not?" we are not accountable for providing endless entertainment, infinite amounts of money, and privileges that are continually unaccompanied by any personal responsibility on their part. We may say, "I believe it wouldn't be good for you if I did that for you. Maybe you can try . . . "
Although we may think we will just go ahead and make the personal sacrifices regardless, what is likely to happen is that we will become weary of being used. We will begin to resent the demands and then feeling guilty about that, we mercilessly punish ourselves for our lack of charity. We may be angry at the person for the problem they have become to us, or we may be angry at ourselves for allowing them to continue. What we should have handled in firm but loving action has been turned in on ourselves. Read "Acting In" (here)
Re-think your relationships if everyone has chosen you, and your friends are not ones you have chosen—or would choose, if you had it to do over. Although we want to encourage rich and rewarding relationships, no one's happiness depends on you.
Marjorie
Monday, August 10, 2009
Saying "No"
Perhaps I would like to give to the organizations that call for my donation: the veterans' groups, the Heart Association, the Diabetes Research Foundation, the Cancer Society, my alumni association, and the sponsors of law enforcement benefits. First of all, I don't buy or give over the phone—period. But if I did, would I be able to do all they ask, and still pay my utility bill? No.
I get letters in the mail too, and I'd like to send all of them a nice check: the veterans' groups and the Salvation Army and Easter Seals and a local hospice. All good causes, but can I do that and buy groceries too? No.
The United Way coordinator at work expects me to pledge. Every visiting missionary at church would like for me to pledge. The local NPR station wants me to pledge. Quasi-political organizations ask me to pledge. Can I respond to all of them? No.
A young salesman comes to the door: Will I buy candles or stationery so he can win a trip, and this will "keep young people off the street." The Girl Scouts come: Buy cookies so I can go to camp. A man comes with vacuum cleaners, another with citrus fruit. Am I able to buy stuff I don't really want or need to help people win prizes or even earn their livelihood? No. (The grandkids come: Grandma, will you buy cookie dough or refrigerator magnets or candles or stationery? Why yes, of course. That's different!)
And it isn't just money. "We need volunteers at the free-meal center . . . in our vacation Bible School . . . to be a literacy tutor . . . to be a Big Brother/Big Sister . . . at the re-sale store . . . to drive on the field trip." There is not time and energy enough to do all that. So the answer is "No."
Why is it so hard to say "No"? Often it is because we feel dumb, or we're anxious about the goodwill of others, or afterwards we feel guilty. But sometimes it is just because we have so seldom asserted our right to choose. We are the ones responsible for determining our behavior and realizing its consequences, and no amount of coercion should sway us from that. We do not have to justify our decision, even if it is illogical, by giving reasons or excuses. (Well, maybe to the grandkids!)
When should you say "No"? When "no" is what you want to say. When "no" is what you mean. If "no" is really the message, then don't say "Well . . ." or "I'm not sure . . ." Say "No," clearly and, if necessary, persistently.
How do you say "No"?
First, put your tongue to your palate just behind your front teeth, and vocalize. That is N.
Make a round opening with your lips; vocalize. That is O.
N-O.
There, that wasn't so hard, was it? With practice you can become quite fluent in this expression!
Marjorie
I get letters in the mail too, and I'd like to send all of them a nice check: the veterans' groups and the Salvation Army and Easter Seals and a local hospice. All good causes, but can I do that and buy groceries too? No.
The United Way coordinator at work expects me to pledge. Every visiting missionary at church would like for me to pledge. The local NPR station wants me to pledge. Quasi-political organizations ask me to pledge. Can I respond to all of them? No.
A young salesman comes to the door: Will I buy candles or stationery so he can win a trip, and this will "keep young people off the street." The Girl Scouts come: Buy cookies so I can go to camp. A man comes with vacuum cleaners, another with citrus fruit. Am I able to buy stuff I don't really want or need to help people win prizes or even earn their livelihood? No. (The grandkids come: Grandma, will you buy cookie dough or refrigerator magnets or candles or stationery? Why yes, of course. That's different!)
And it isn't just money. "We need volunteers at the free-meal center . . . in our vacation Bible School . . . to be a literacy tutor . . . to be a Big Brother/Big Sister . . . at the re-sale store . . . to drive on the field trip." There is not time and energy enough to do all that. So the answer is "No."
Why is it so hard to say "No"? Often it is because we feel dumb, or we're anxious about the goodwill of others, or afterwards we feel guilty. But sometimes it is just because we have so seldom asserted our right to choose. We are the ones responsible for determining our behavior and realizing its consequences, and no amount of coercion should sway us from that. We do not have to justify our decision, even if it is illogical, by giving reasons or excuses. (Well, maybe to the grandkids!)
When should you say "No"? When "no" is what you want to say. When "no" is what you mean. If "no" is really the message, then don't say "Well . . ." or "I'm not sure . . ." Say "No," clearly and, if necessary, persistently.
How do you say "No"?
First, put your tongue to your palate just behind your front teeth, and vocalize. That is N.
Make a round opening with your lips; vocalize. That is O.
N-O.
There, that wasn't so hard, was it? With practice you can become quite fluent in this expression!
Marjorie
Monday, June 29, 2009
Choose Your Battles
No one can give time and energy to every cause, good though it may be. No one can possibly enter every single battle, let alone win them all. As noble a goal as it is, no one person is going to be able to help right every wrong. It's important, then, for us to discern in which causes and battles we should be engaged.
A story in the Old Testament can give us some instruction. (II Samuel 2:18-23) Joab, Abishai, and Asahel were King David's nephews, sons of his sister Zeruiah. All three were engaged in the war being fought against the house of Saul. Asahel was known for being an especially swift runner; he was like a gazelle. Fueled by anger or pride, he began chasing Abner, the commander of Saul's forces. What a trophy this would be to take back to his fellow soldiers: Abner, either dead or alive! He might be credited with winning the war, securing the kingdom for David, practically single-handed! Although Asahel was one of David's special group of thirty "mighty men," his fighting skill was undoubtedly less than that of the experienced soldier he was pursuing. Along the way, he paid no attention to opportunities to take other prisoners; his eyes were on Abner only. He chased after the officer relentlessly, not stopping for anything.
Abner looked back and saw someone coming after him. He called out, "Is that you, Asahel?"
"Yes, it is!"
"Go fight someone else!" Abner warned. "Take on one of the younger men to your right or left and strip him of his weapons." Knowing the young soldier was no match for his own experience, he offered an alternate action of safety and honor. He did not ask the young man to disgrace himself by dropping his pursuit entirely, but only to take on a cause more suited to his strength. It would appear to anyone watching that he had chased some other person, not Abner himself.
Asahel perhaps thought Abner's suggestion was made from fear, as they were now close enough to call back and forth to one another. This may even have fired his determination to disarm the general and take him prisoner, or else to kill him in hand-to-hand combat. Asahel continued his chase.
Abner shouted to him again. "Get away from here!" he begged. "I don't want to kill you! Don't make me do that! How could I face your brother Joab again?" Whether he respected Joab or feared him, he did not want to anger him. If Asahel did not turn aside, Abner would have to kill or be killed.
Asahel refused to turn back, and Abner thrust backward with the butt end of his spear, a move so powerful that the spear was driven all the way through the young soldier's body. He stumbled to the ground and died on the spot. Everyone that came by stopped and stood still when they saw Asahel, the ambitious young soldier lying there.
He was brave. He was determined. He was fighting a noble cause. And he was dead.
It is poor strategy for us to take on causes just because we are eager to do so. Fighting battles just to show our strength or ability—like who is "boss" here or who is "right"—are seldom effective in the long run. A "death-blow" can come from the direction we least expect it if we engage in conflict that we were not meant to enter.
When facing their enemies, kings and commanders in the Scripture would ask of the Lord, "Shall we enter the battle?" And God would tell them that they should and He would give victory, or He would tell then not to for they would meet with defeat. We are confronted on all sides with issues: family relationships, church decisions, community actions, political questions, social problems. We cannot possibly be involved in all of them. God will help us to choose the battles where we will be most effective for the cause of Christ, and to have a clear conscience concerning the rest.
Marjorie
A story in the Old Testament can give us some instruction. (II Samuel 2:18-23) Joab, Abishai, and Asahel were King David's nephews, sons of his sister Zeruiah. All three were engaged in the war being fought against the house of Saul. Asahel was known for being an especially swift runner; he was like a gazelle. Fueled by anger or pride, he began chasing Abner, the commander of Saul's forces. What a trophy this would be to take back to his fellow soldiers: Abner, either dead or alive! He might be credited with winning the war, securing the kingdom for David, practically single-handed! Although Asahel was one of David's special group of thirty "mighty men," his fighting skill was undoubtedly less than that of the experienced soldier he was pursuing. Along the way, he paid no attention to opportunities to take other prisoners; his eyes were on Abner only. He chased after the officer relentlessly, not stopping for anything.
Abner looked back and saw someone coming after him. He called out, "Is that you, Asahel?"
"Yes, it is!"
"Go fight someone else!" Abner warned. "Take on one of the younger men to your right or left and strip him of his weapons." Knowing the young soldier was no match for his own experience, he offered an alternate action of safety and honor. He did not ask the young man to disgrace himself by dropping his pursuit entirely, but only to take on a cause more suited to his strength. It would appear to anyone watching that he had chased some other person, not Abner himself.
Asahel perhaps thought Abner's suggestion was made from fear, as they were now close enough to call back and forth to one another. This may even have fired his determination to disarm the general and take him prisoner, or else to kill him in hand-to-hand combat. Asahel continued his chase.
Abner shouted to him again. "Get away from here!" he begged. "I don't want to kill you! Don't make me do that! How could I face your brother Joab again?" Whether he respected Joab or feared him, he did not want to anger him. If Asahel did not turn aside, Abner would have to kill or be killed.
Asahel refused to turn back, and Abner thrust backward with the butt end of his spear, a move so powerful that the spear was driven all the way through the young soldier's body. He stumbled to the ground and died on the spot. Everyone that came by stopped and stood still when they saw Asahel, the ambitious young soldier lying there.
He was brave. He was determined. He was fighting a noble cause. And he was dead.
It is poor strategy for us to take on causes just because we are eager to do so. Fighting battles just to show our strength or ability—like who is "boss" here or who is "right"—are seldom effective in the long run. A "death-blow" can come from the direction we least expect it if we engage in conflict that we were not meant to enter.
When facing their enemies, kings and commanders in the Scripture would ask of the Lord, "Shall we enter the battle?" And God would tell them that they should and He would give victory, or He would tell then not to for they would meet with defeat. We are confronted on all sides with issues: family relationships, church decisions, community actions, political questions, social problems. We cannot possibly be involved in all of them. God will help us to choose the battles where we will be most effective for the cause of Christ, and to have a clear conscience concerning the rest.
Marjorie
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
"I Deserve . . ."
"I deserve . . ." are words that I can hardly bring myself to say. During the years of my youth, it was firmly instilled in me that life doesn't owe me anything. Later, spiritual trainers taught me that "Christians have no rights." Consequently, I arrived at adulthood believing that the appropriate thing to do was treat myself poorly. The result was unhealthful eating habits, too few hours of sleep, no time for exercise, and unrewarding relationships.
The time came finally when I began to realize that this was not the way God intended for me to live. I was able to say, albeit with wavering conviction, "I deserve better . . .", although I didn't really know how to get that. I am now learning that it is, as with so many things, a matter of balance. No, we cannot just "float," believing that everything will somehow work out and what we need will be provided by our family or the Church or the government. At the other extreme, we should not equate poor and rejected with "holy."
Reading of Jesus' life, we see that He stopped to eat, He stopped to rest, and He stopped to pray. (Walking everywhere, He did not have to be concerned about getting exercise!) But Jesus did not lose awareness of other people while He tended to His own needs. He did not shut others out, but sometimes laid aside His own justifiable agenda in order to minister to them. He was a master of balance.
Did Jesus exercise "His rights"? I think so. He was the Son of God, and sometimes He claimed that Divine authority and used that power. He was also son of man, so He celebrated at the Cana wedding, He wept at Lazarus' tomb, and He became angry at the merchants in the Temple. The details of Jesus' death show clearly that His "human rights" were violated, but throughout His life, Jesus claimed His right to act like a human. Again, He had mastered the art of balance.
By advocating "I deserve. . .", I am not suggesting that we become selfish or that we abdicate our responsibilities. I am becoming more and more aware of the rhythms of life. There are seasons when we are just too busy. Small children consume our time and energy, or there is an ill or frail family member to whom we give care. We struggle through the double-time march of job and schooling. The state of the family finances means having to work longer or differently than we expected. A relationship requires our special nurturing for a time. A period of demanding work in our career takes extra attention. But when that season is over, what then?
Sometimes we continue, after it is no longer mandated, the lifestyle we developed through necessity. We eat on the run, sleep too little, watch too much TV because we're so tired we can't read, and give little consideration to the things that bring beauty and peace and meaning to life. We "deserve" these things, not because we are somebody better than those around us, but because you and I are "one of the least of Jesus' brethren" too.
Marjorie
The time came finally when I began to realize that this was not the way God intended for me to live. I was able to say, albeit with wavering conviction, "I deserve better . . .", although I didn't really know how to get that. I am now learning that it is, as with so many things, a matter of balance. No, we cannot just "float," believing that everything will somehow work out and what we need will be provided by our family or the Church or the government. At the other extreme, we should not equate poor and rejected with "holy."
Reading of Jesus' life, we see that He stopped to eat, He stopped to rest, and He stopped to pray. (Walking everywhere, He did not have to be concerned about getting exercise!) But Jesus did not lose awareness of other people while He tended to His own needs. He did not shut others out, but sometimes laid aside His own justifiable agenda in order to minister to them. He was a master of balance.
Did Jesus exercise "His rights"? I think so. He was the Son of God, and sometimes He claimed that Divine authority and used that power. He was also son of man, so He celebrated at the Cana wedding, He wept at Lazarus' tomb, and He became angry at the merchants in the Temple. The details of Jesus' death show clearly that His "human rights" were violated, but throughout His life, Jesus claimed His right to act like a human. Again, He had mastered the art of balance.
By advocating "I deserve. . .", I am not suggesting that we become selfish or that we abdicate our responsibilities. I am becoming more and more aware of the rhythms of life. There are seasons when we are just too busy. Small children consume our time and energy, or there is an ill or frail family member to whom we give care. We struggle through the double-time march of job and schooling. The state of the family finances means having to work longer or differently than we expected. A relationship requires our special nurturing for a time. A period of demanding work in our career takes extra attention. But when that season is over, what then?
Sometimes we continue, after it is no longer mandated, the lifestyle we developed through necessity. We eat on the run, sleep too little, watch too much TV because we're so tired we can't read, and give little consideration to the things that bring beauty and peace and meaning to life. We "deserve" these things, not because we are somebody better than those around us, but because you and I are "one of the least of Jesus' brethren" too.
Marjorie
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Jubilee!
Jubilee!
Life is not downhill after fifty! In fact, quite a number of authors have written books about how to make the after-fifty years healthy, productive—and fun:
-- Portfolio Life : The New Path to Work, Purpose, and Passion After 50
-- Fitness After 50
-- Second Careers : New Ways to Work After 50
-- Dr. Ruth's Sex After 50 : Revving Up the Romance, Passion & Excitement!
-- Writing After Fifty: How to Find-Enjoy-and Make Money from a New Career as a Writer After You Retire [What I'm doing, except the part about making money!]
I don't know if it is realistic or not, but I like to think of fifty or thereabouts as the halfway point, and apparently I am not alone in that. Other writers spell it out:
-- Encore : Finding Work That Matters in the Second Half of Life
-- The Creative Age" Awakening Human Potential in the Second Half of Life
-- Living Your Unlived Life: Coping with Unrealized Dreams and Fulfilling Your Purpose in the Second Half of Life
And my very favorite title:
-- I'm Not as Old As I Used to Be: Reclaiming Your life in the Second Half
Tomorrow is my birthday—somewhat beyond fifty years and well into the second half of life. (I plan to be a very old lady!) The year I would be turning fifty, I badly needed fresh hope for the years ahead. I was five years past a painful divorce, but still living in a world of hurt. As a stressed-out single mom, I was working full-time and attending classes for a graduate degree. I knew about the Old Testament laws that provided rest for the land every Sabbatical (seventh) year. After seven seven's, the fiftieth year was the Year of Jubilee. This was a time of great celebration when the land was returned to its original owners, slaves were freed, and debts were forgiven.
"It seems to me," I said to the Lord, "that this fiftieth year should be a year of jubilee for me. I don't expect my financial obligations to be erased, but would You please release me from this oppressive sense of guilt and worry, and restore the peace that is rightfully mine as one of Your children?"
And He did! At an unexpected moment some months later, a few simple words from His heart to mine just washed away the accumulation of rejection and fear and self-doubt. Circumstances did not change, but my outlook did. Life again held meaning and promise. The years since my Year of Jubilee have been far more rewarding than the years before. I'm not nearly as old as I used to be!
I share my experience sometimes, and tell women to relish the possibilities that lie ahead. Whichever side of fifty you are on, you can expect fifty-plus to be good. You can look ahead to that mark and plan for the second half of life to be full and rich, or you can look back to that mark and make up for some lost time if need be! "Fifty and better" is not just an advertising catch-phrase for magazines and banks and community activity centers. It's the truth, if you decide to have a Jubilee!
Marjorie
Life is not downhill after fifty! In fact, quite a number of authors have written books about how to make the after-fifty years healthy, productive—and fun:
-- Portfolio Life : The New Path to Work, Purpose, and Passion After 50
-- Fitness After 50
-- Second Careers : New Ways to Work After 50
-- Dr. Ruth's Sex After 50 : Revving Up the Romance, Passion & Excitement!
-- Writing After Fifty: How to Find-Enjoy-and Make Money from a New Career as a Writer After You Retire [What I'm doing, except the part about making money!]
I don't know if it is realistic or not, but I like to think of fifty or thereabouts as the halfway point, and apparently I am not alone in that. Other writers spell it out:
-- Encore : Finding Work That Matters in the Second Half of Life
-- The Creative Age" Awakening Human Potential in the Second Half of Life
-- Living Your Unlived Life: Coping with Unrealized Dreams and Fulfilling Your Purpose in the Second Half of Life
And my very favorite title:
-- I'm Not as Old As I Used to Be: Reclaiming Your life in the Second Half
Tomorrow is my birthday—somewhat beyond fifty years and well into the second half of life. (I plan to be a very old lady!) The year I would be turning fifty, I badly needed fresh hope for the years ahead. I was five years past a painful divorce, but still living in a world of hurt. As a stressed-out single mom, I was working full-time and attending classes for a graduate degree. I knew about the Old Testament laws that provided rest for the land every Sabbatical (seventh) year. After seven seven's, the fiftieth year was the Year of Jubilee. This was a time of great celebration when the land was returned to its original owners, slaves were freed, and debts were forgiven.
"It seems to me," I said to the Lord, "that this fiftieth year should be a year of jubilee for me. I don't expect my financial obligations to be erased, but would You please release me from this oppressive sense of guilt and worry, and restore the peace that is rightfully mine as one of Your children?"
And He did! At an unexpected moment some months later, a few simple words from His heart to mine just washed away the accumulation of rejection and fear and self-doubt. Circumstances did not change, but my outlook did. Life again held meaning and promise. The years since my Year of Jubilee have been far more rewarding than the years before. I'm not nearly as old as I used to be!
I share my experience sometimes, and tell women to relish the possibilities that lie ahead. Whichever side of fifty you are on, you can expect fifty-plus to be good. You can look ahead to that mark and plan for the second half of life to be full and rich, or you can look back to that mark and make up for some lost time if need be! "Fifty and better" is not just an advertising catch-phrase for magazines and banks and community activity centers. It's the truth, if you decide to have a Jubilee!
Marjorie
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Genny's Story - 5: "Something Was Very Wrong"
Genny has just described how her abusive home affected her physically and emotionally.
Marjorie: Did you ever wonder if perhaps Jim was mentally ill, that his anger was something he couldn't help?
Genny: There was definitely something wrong, but he avoided any kind of situation where he might be evaluated. But that he couldn't help it? No, I finally had to give that up. He was a Christian gentleman as far as the church and his few select friends could tell. He controlled his angry, scornful words and his selfish actions when he was around them. So he could have done that for me too, if that's what he had wanted to do. But at home he let "the evil twin" out. He knew how to use his anger as a tool; he could turn it on or off to get whatever it was he wanted. He told me that when he was a child or young man, he stood in front of a mirror and practiced saying vicious things, and that through the years he took satisfaction in seeing how he could wither people with his words.
M: Is it possible that he had some kind of personality disorder?
G: I'm sure that's possible, although I don't know a lot about those problems. Sometimes I wish it could have been as simple as saying, "Well, he has this" or "He is such-and-such." I have to remind myself that this is something he carefully controlled. I even told him, "You're nice to everyone but me." He just kept an expressionless mask over his face—no recognition, no denial either—like I had made some ridiculous statement that he could just ignore. I really believe he liked being angry. I think he felt powerful and in control when he was loud and mean. I read somewhere that anger can give a "high" as addictive as a drug. I think he was addicted. Once in a mellow moment, I told him, "If you could give up your inner rage, you would be a different man." "No, no," he answered, "I am a transformed man." (Meaning that because he had accepted Jesus as Savior, his old life simply didn't exist.) I am here to tell you that was not true. Being "saved" did not bring a deep life change in him.
M: So sometimes you did confront him?
G: Sort of. I'm not sure you could even call it confrontation. I walked away a few times, when he was loud and angry. I left the room or the house while he was yelling, "Don't you dare leave me!" But at that time, I didn't think of actually leaving him as an option. Later, after recognizing the extent of the abuse and deciding, "I am not going to live this way," I did have to begin facing what the next step would be. It didn't seem like an immediate decision that I needed to make in a hurry. I knew I could make it on my own, but I couldn't see myself leaving. I was still clinging to that little bit of hope that he would choose to relate to me as a loving husband.
M: What about those "sort-of" confrontations? Why weren't you more assertive in taking care of yourself in the relationship?
G: It took a very long time to sink in that all of this was not going to turn out okay. Then when I did realize it, I did not have the kind of strength and self-respect that would have been required to stop the mistreatment. I'm not sure I ever possessed that confidence, but if so, it had been beaten down and I was just numb. Had I been that stronger and wiser person, I probably wouldn't have been married to Jim at all.. He was attracted to the quiet, compliant woman I was, and might not have even liked me had I been otherwise!
There was something very wrong, that is to say unbalanced. Over and over I have said to myself, "This man, at least while I lived with him, was wicked or very, very sick." Probably some of both. He was very sick in the sense that he did not respond to life in what would be called "normal" ways. But I think he made little choices over and over again that led in the wrong, self-destructive direction—just like a diabetic may choose to disregard nutritional counsel, or a person with lung cancer continues to smoke. I believe Jim's choices shaped his body and his brain until the bent of his life was pretty nearly irreversible, and perhaps then he really couldn't any longer choose; I don't know. And I have to let God judge whether or not he was wicked. From my perspective, I will say that he did not show the spirit of Christ.
M: But God can deliver from such patterns, can't He?
G: Oh, of course! I really believe that. But it doesn't happen if a person is resisting change. Jim preferred not to submit to any of the costly or painful disciplines God might have used in his life. He just admitted that he loved pleasure and ease too much for that. God doesn't force us to undergo training. We have to present ourselves, prepared for whatever it takes to make us into His disciples.
Knowing that Jim was very wrong does not mean that I accept no responsibility. There's a difference between assuming responsibility and accepting blame. I did not cause the abuse; it was not my fault. I am able now to take responsibility for being the kind of person who could not stand up for herself and say, "This is not right." But it's still not helpful or realistic for me to examine the "Jim years" and tell myself, "Why didn't you just say . . ." "If you had just done such-and-such." If I could have said or done differently, I probably wouldn't even have been in that situation in the first place. The timid little steps I did take were all I could manage at the time.
To be continued.
Marjorie: Did you ever wonder if perhaps Jim was mentally ill, that his anger was something he couldn't help?
Genny: There was definitely something wrong, but he avoided any kind of situation where he might be evaluated. But that he couldn't help it? No, I finally had to give that up. He was a Christian gentleman as far as the church and his few select friends could tell. He controlled his angry, scornful words and his selfish actions when he was around them. So he could have done that for me too, if that's what he had wanted to do. But at home he let "the evil twin" out. He knew how to use his anger as a tool; he could turn it on or off to get whatever it was he wanted. He told me that when he was a child or young man, he stood in front of a mirror and practiced saying vicious things, and that through the years he took satisfaction in seeing how he could wither people with his words.
M: Is it possible that he had some kind of personality disorder?
G: I'm sure that's possible, although I don't know a lot about those problems. Sometimes I wish it could have been as simple as saying, "Well, he has this" or "He is such-and-such." I have to remind myself that this is something he carefully controlled. I even told him, "You're nice to everyone but me." He just kept an expressionless mask over his face—no recognition, no denial either—like I had made some ridiculous statement that he could just ignore. I really believe he liked being angry. I think he felt powerful and in control when he was loud and mean. I read somewhere that anger can give a "high" as addictive as a drug. I think he was addicted. Once in a mellow moment, I told him, "If you could give up your inner rage, you would be a different man." "No, no," he answered, "I am a transformed man." (Meaning that because he had accepted Jesus as Savior, his old life simply didn't exist.) I am here to tell you that was not true. Being "saved" did not bring a deep life change in him.
M: So sometimes you did confront him?
G: Sort of. I'm not sure you could even call it confrontation. I walked away a few times, when he was loud and angry. I left the room or the house while he was yelling, "Don't you dare leave me!" But at that time, I didn't think of actually leaving him as an option. Later, after recognizing the extent of the abuse and deciding, "I am not going to live this way," I did have to begin facing what the next step would be. It didn't seem like an immediate decision that I needed to make in a hurry. I knew I could make it on my own, but I couldn't see myself leaving. I was still clinging to that little bit of hope that he would choose to relate to me as a loving husband.
M: What about those "sort-of" confrontations? Why weren't you more assertive in taking care of yourself in the relationship?
G: It took a very long time to sink in that all of this was not going to turn out okay. Then when I did realize it, I did not have the kind of strength and self-respect that would have been required to stop the mistreatment. I'm not sure I ever possessed that confidence, but if so, it had been beaten down and I was just numb. Had I been that stronger and wiser person, I probably wouldn't have been married to Jim at all.. He was attracted to the quiet, compliant woman I was, and might not have even liked me had I been otherwise!
There was something very wrong, that is to say unbalanced. Over and over I have said to myself, "This man, at least while I lived with him, was wicked or very, very sick." Probably some of both. He was very sick in the sense that he did not respond to life in what would be called "normal" ways. But I think he made little choices over and over again that led in the wrong, self-destructive direction—just like a diabetic may choose to disregard nutritional counsel, or a person with lung cancer continues to smoke. I believe Jim's choices shaped his body and his brain until the bent of his life was pretty nearly irreversible, and perhaps then he really couldn't any longer choose; I don't know. And I have to let God judge whether or not he was wicked. From my perspective, I will say that he did not show the spirit of Christ.
M: But God can deliver from such patterns, can't He?
G: Oh, of course! I really believe that. But it doesn't happen if a person is resisting change. Jim preferred not to submit to any of the costly or painful disciplines God might have used in his life. He just admitted that he loved pleasure and ease too much for that. God doesn't force us to undergo training. We have to present ourselves, prepared for whatever it takes to make us into His disciples.
Knowing that Jim was very wrong does not mean that I accept no responsibility. There's a difference between assuming responsibility and accepting blame. I did not cause the abuse; it was not my fault. I am able now to take responsibility for being the kind of person who could not stand up for herself and say, "This is not right." But it's still not helpful or realistic for me to examine the "Jim years" and tell myself, "Why didn't you just say . . ." "If you had just done such-and-such." If I could have said or done differently, I probably wouldn't even have been in that situation in the first place. The timid little steps I did take were all I could manage at the time.
To be continued.
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