Ruby Sparks

In the movie Ruby Sparks, a writer named Calvin writes a woman into existence. He falls in love with her, and after proving to his brother that what ever he writes about her happens, like making her speak French, Calvin puts away his writing and lets Ruby just live her life. He enjoys their relationship until Ruby begins to show some independence. Dismayed at her response to him, instead of letting that happen, he pulls out the paper and typewriter and writes her back into his presence. He continues to manipulate her by writing about her, until a crisis of proving his power over her then releasing her to herself. She leaves, he is heartbroken and writes a book about it. Then one day he happens on her again. She has no cognition of who he is to her, and he begins to woo her again as any man woos a woman.

When his brother first finds out the startling truth, he says he would love to be able to write his wife's annoyances away. Imagine if we could change those we love...which we often try to do, manipulating others to fit our own needs. Perhaps the very annoyance we would love to eliminate has some greater purpose.

Truthfully the only one who should be re-writing our character is God, who must shape us into the image of Christ. Yet because God gave us free will, we must submit to that change.

In fact, God did not make Calvin's mistake. God after creating us could have made us dependent on his every expression of who we are, but God knew that love forced is not love at all. So God allowed us to be ourselves from the moment God created us. Thank the Lord we are not subject to the capricious whims of a writer, or the selfish conceits of a lover, but instead have been empowered by a loving God to walk our own path, yet offered the option of obedience.

We do well to allow the Supreme Author to write our story. Then we know we can live happily ever after.

The Why of Grief

Recently I've written about grief. I mentioned that when my mom died, I felt quite unraveled. While missing her terribly, I could acknowledge the reality that her entrance to heaven represented a wonderful upgrade from her earthly life. True for anyone, but my mother had suffered much in this world and mentioned before her death a need for a vacation. She sure got one.

Currently I am dealing with a dear friend in a coma. Unlike my mother, this woman faces life with gusto. She serves God at our church with youth. She has young adult children she anchors and mentors. A granddaughter she has helped to raise. She is the most optimistic person I know. Laughs at everything. Tells me every time we talk, "love you much," and means it.

Heaven is an upgrade for anyone, but it's harder with someone like this to discern why she needs to depart so soon.

We always want to know why. We detest randomness. We know God is a God of order, so life cannot be random. When situations make little sense, we protest. Or at least I know I do.

If we can find a logical answer, we can avoid that circumstance. If we can blame something concrete, we know how to stay safe.

But that doesn't work, not for the children at Sandy Hook, or my friend, or many others who suddenly face death without a logical reason.

I don't understand why. And that ranckles me.

But I am comforted by the reminder that as much as death seems the enemy, death is really the door to eternity, and although we don't want to pass that way in haste, it is actually a door to freedom and glory. These words comfort me:

The righteous perish,
    and no one takes it to heart;
the devout are taken away,
    and no one understands
that the righteous are taken away
    to be spared from evil.
² Those who walk uprightly
    enter into peace;
    they find rest as they lie in death. Isaiah 57:1-2

I have no specific answer why my friends is being taken away while so young, so useful, so loved, so needed. But I do rejoice that she will find rest in death. She does deserve that.

Pausing from Grief

Monday morning a local radio DJ explained that he watched part of the vigil from Newtown the night before, but that he had to keep turning away from it, because it was so overwhelming.

I could understand this. My mother's unexpected, unnecessary death plunged me into a paroxysm of grief that lasted a full year, until I again reached that fateful day in February and decided to forgive the doctor and move on.

To get past grief requires walking through the river of  sorrow to the other side where healing waits, and sometimes the water swells threatening to drown you. You can back out of the river and take a break, you can hold someone's hand and brave the rapids, you can try to swim against the current, but whatever strategy you adopt, you must have the courage to cross the river to finally reach healing.

But when it's someone else's river, it's really hard to want to plunge into the raging water. And the water of this river flowing from Newtown is especially chilling, rapid and deep, as it contains the grief of so many, and so young, and so senseless.

The rest of us watching prefer to do little more than dip our toes in from time to time. Those with small children find themselves especially drawn to the river by virtue of association.

But those bereaved by this tragedy have no choice, they cannot stand on the bank and watch. They can't take a break, or turn off the TV to dismiss the pain.

The rest of us don't have to swim this river, but we can sure pray for those who do, and stand by with life preservers in case we can help in some way. 

Just this morning I read again the story of Jonah, who when the waters threatened to overcome him, found respite in a fish. I don't know what unusual means God will provide to comfort the bereaved, but I do know that God never abandons us, despite the feeling of drowning, and I pray that all those in pain turn to God for that comfort.


God can seem far away at times like these, even when we hold hard to God's hand. But indeed God is always close, even when all evidence fails to reveal God's presence, and I am praying for these families that the waters do not overwhelm them but that they feel supported, loved and cared for. Even when the dark descends:
even there your hand will guide me,
    your right hand will hold me fast.
¹¹ If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
    and the light become night around me,”
¹² even the darkness will not be dark to you;
    the night will shine like the day,
    for darkness is as light to you. Psalm 139

When God Weeps

While cleaning my room and contemplating today's tragic school shooting in Connecticut, I saw my copy of  When God Weeps by Joni Eareckson Tada. If God ever weeps, it would be days like today.

God has an interesting position, because in Revelation we read that God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. God lives outside of time, so in one reality, God has all those children and teachers and they are reunited with their families and all is joy and peace.

But God is still present here in our reality, and here God weeps with us. In fact as those parents grieve the loss of their children, an unimaginable loss to me, God needs no imagination, because God has suffered in that very way, the loss of a child. God knows this pain. God has walked this road.

I pray that today all those bereaved by this tragedy sense God's walking beside them. And the rest of us too, as best we know how.

Waiting

As we enter into the season of Advent, remember that Advent is about waiting.

 

We're not very good at waiting these days. We have created an instant culture, where we get fast food, or cook in microwaves, reduce our world to sound bites and video reconstructions and expect a quick pay back on our spiritual investment.

 

Jesus waited for millennia to show up on earth the first time. Now it's been a couple more thousand years waiting for Jesus to come back again. But when it finally happens, or when we leave this life for eternity, these years will be a blink of an eye, and we'll have a never ending moment to be with Jesus.

 

I almost said, "I can't wait," which is true, but a little ironic, because wait we must. And practicing waiting is good for all of us. Builds patience, and we all need that, especially this time of year.

 

So practice. When you're in that long line at the store, remember when it's finally your turn how hard it must be to be that employee helping everyone. Say something kind.

 

When you see that harried mother trying to herd children and shop, see if you can hold the door or help in some way. Or that older person struggling with packages, try to lighten their load.

 

Model waiting. Because after all, Jesus is waiting on us. Waiting on us to become the people God created us to be. And that really takes patience.

Sibling Rivalry

As parents we managed to avoid most sibling rivalry between our four offspring by raising them to root for each other, to take ownership in one another's successes so that instead of being jealous they were excited for each other. When one of them succeeds at some accomplishment, the rest feel proud.

Today Howard Snyder's daily Facebook prayer contained this line: "Fill me with your love and regard for others, and deliver me from all jealousy when others succeed or surpass me in areas where I would like to excel or be known."

My first thought was how comforting it was to know I'm not the only one who struggles this way, a form of misery loves company.

My second thought was that if I could take the same kind of ownership for others as my children  have for each other, I wouldn't feel jealous. 

Romans 12:15 says, "Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn." I've often said it can be easier to mourn with people than to rejoice with them. Rejoicing requires acceptance of their victory.

If I could truly own the sibling nature of humanity, then instead of sibling rivalry, feel a sense of partnership with others, I could rejoice when others succeed, instead of wishing that were me. And when I did succeed, I've have siblings rooting for me as well.

That is the essence of Howard's prayer, asking God to fill him with such love and regard for others that jealousy has no place. 

Lord, reshape us in this form. Give us courage to allow you to do so. Show us how to truly celebrate the victories of others, trusting you to give us the victories we need when we need them. Amen.

Hymns

Worship Wars started decades ago. When contemporary choruses came out, people battled over choruses versus hymns.

We sing both at our church. And I love both.

This week I had a younger person say she liked a certain group who were updating hymns. A funny video of someone else had a hip person say he liked hymns.

So hymns are "in" again. But then this need to update them.

I too have enjoyed some of the "updates," sometimes a faster pace, a different tune that's more singable. Our church loves the added chorus of "My Chains are Gone" to Amazing Grace.

But today as I was singing Blessed Assurance, I thought, "What's wrong with the old versions?"

Many of them were once bar tunes themselves, as Charles Wesley often used popular tunes for his hymns.

It doesn't really matter if we sing them with new hip tunes, a new pace, or the same old way. Many hymns have depth missing in some choruses.

Truth is, I love them both, which is why we still sing both at our church. Come on over.