Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Truth and War

In the 2011 thriller "Unknown" starring Liam Neeson, Dr. Martin Harris (played to perfection by Neeson) is an American bio-tech wizard who suffers a head injury as a result of a car crash while in Berlin for a series of summit meetings. After lying in a coma for four days, Dr. Harris wakes up in a German hospital to find that he still knows who he is. Unfortunately, his wife does not. Neither does anyone else from his personal or professional life. Without divulging all the twists and turns in case you haven't seen the film, Dr. Harris embarks on a vigilant journey to prove he is who he remembers himself to be. At one particular turning point, his German doctor attempts to comfort him by offering that who he remembers himself to be may be, to his dismay, nothing more than who he wished himself to be prior to the accident.


With the weight of his very identity teetering precariously on his frustrated shoulders, Dr. Harris turns to his doctor and remarks, "It's like a war between being told who you are and knowing who you are." And then with the desperate fear of utter madness closing in he asks, "which one do you think will win?"

Hmmm...being told who you are or knowing who you are? If asked for a show of hands, almost certainly the vast majority of our society has at one time or another been told they are something that, in fact, they are not: Lazy. Stupid. Fat. Incompetent. Ugly. Uncoordinated. Too short. Too tall. Clumsy. Pathetic. No good. A mistake. An accident. While any of these adjectives may be unhealthy or unproductive ways in which we live, they are in no way representative of who we are

The bad news is this: we humans are complex physical beings with a complex system of emotions. We thrive (or deteriorate) on relationship, community, and a sense of belonging. And because of this God-designed need for relationship - the Bible tells us that God observed it was not good for man to be alone - we embrace what we are told about ourselves. We soar to unattainable heights because someone believes in us; we plummet to unfathomable depths because another does not. Fragile characters indeed.

The good news is this: God makes it abundantly clear in His Word that human beings were made in His image. We are the only part of all His creation which He referred to as 'very good' (Genesis 1:31), "made in the image of God." An image is defined as 'an imitation, representation, or similitude...; a physical likeness or representation...; an optically formed duplicate'. Look around. What does that tell you about God? God is short and tall; God is blonde, brunette, and red-head; God is freckle-faced and olive-complected; stocky and statuesque; curly, straight, and bald. While we are daily bombarded with being told what we are, it is vitally important that we know who we are. God doesn't make mistakes. In spite of the fact that we often misuse (or don't use at all) the gifts and talents we've been given, the simple truth is that we are who God created us to be.

When I look in the mirror there are plenty of things I don't like staring back at me (and I won't elaborate on them on the off chance that you haven't noticed them). But what would happen if when we looked in the mirror we saw what God sees? Far beyond the physical reflection, what if we could see His image? His likeness? How would it change what we are told we are if we filtered it through knowing who we are?

God gave us an incredible, extravagant gift in the person of Jesus. He gave him in the form of a human baby. In the image of God; in His likeness. I can only imagine the things Jesus must have been told about himself as a growing boy....conceived out of wedlock (shameful and humiliating); born in a stable among smelly animals (you don't really think they cleaned up just because a baby was coming, do you?); raised by a carpenter (not exactly the most prestigious job in town); different; strange; downright weird. But Jesus knew who he was and it didn't matter what people said about him.

You may say, "you're right, Dawn, but he was God's son after all...of course he knew who he was!" Ah, but wait a minute. The Bible also tells us that he was fully human, embracing all the traits (a/k/a weaknesses and limitations) of man. He was thirsty and hungry; He was tired; He felt physical and emotional pain; He was tempted. He suffered. But he kept his focus on what he knew to be true, not what others told him.

At this Christmas time of year, I'm reminded once again that God doesn't make mistakes. He knew exactly what He was doing when he offered Jesus to the world through a tender young woman and a brave young man. And for all the ways He could have chosen to send us a savior, He opened wide the door to eternity through the fragile cry of a newborn.

Being told who you are or knowing who you are? Learn the truth. And win the war.

Monday, December 12, 2011

I Want God to Fix Me

Last week a dear friend of mine shared a post on facebook which, quite
honestly, has dominated my thoughts and kept me awake for several nights now. Her name is Dawn and, coincidentally, we share not only our name but the same birthday month - how cool is that? And for the sake of clarity, she is the younger Dawn by far!

Dawn and I met through our childrens' sports activities and have become good friends. Mikey, her oldest son, has the biggest, most heartwarming smile you've ever seen. He loves to share hugs, high fives, and french fries at baseball games. Mikey is also a special needs young man with Down Syndrome. When our families first met, he called me 'Mrs. Hood'. I laid my hand on his arm and pleaded with him, "Mikey, please don't call me Mrs. Hood - it makes me feel old. You can call me Miss Dawn." He threw his head back and laughed big and hard, then smiled and said, "okay, Miss Dawn." He now refers to my in-laws as Mimi and Papaw and has a not-so-secret crush on our daughter Rachel. {smile}

I am blessed to know Dawn and her family. All of her children - Mikey included - are fierce athletes. Their daughter Ashley has college scholarship potential as a softball player; she also excels academically. Their two younger sons, Evan and Zach, are baseball and football superstars and Mikey, although on a special needs baseball team, far exceeds the physical and mental abilities of his teammates. As I've observed their family dynamics over the years, I've learned that Dawn and her husband Mike rarely make concessions for Mikey. They hold him accountable for his behavior, his speech, and the sometimes belligerent taunting of his sister. Having never spent a significant amount of time around a family with a special needs child, it has been fascinating to watch how they treat him - literally - just like any other kid. Somewhere in my brain I wrongly assumed there would always be the 'making excuses', the 'indulging', the 'oh, I'm sorry'.

My perspective was always based on the family's and the inspiring way in which they completely and totally embrace Mikey. (Although it has never crossed my mind that they would do anything else.) But I never thought about it from Mikey's point of view until last week's facebook post from Dawn. On a regular morning, in the midst of a regular weekday routine in which two parents were preparing themselves for the workday ahead and four children were eating breakfast and grabbing book bags for school, Mikey said to Dawn, "I don't want to be a special ed kid, Mom. I want God to fix me." 

Whoa. Shut the front door. If this were a scene in a movie, the moment would freeze on the big screen accompanied by deafening silence.

My kids have said a few things over the years that have stopped me in my tracks, but what could any parent possibly say in response to a statement like this? Dawn shared that this is a recurring topic with Mikey and also bravely shared how it breaks her heart. Mikey knows he is special needs; knows he functions at a different level and pace; knows he will always live life 'differently' from his siblings. And it frustrates him. More than how Dawn responded to his statement, I've been reflecting on Mikey's simple, innocent proclamation: "I want God to fix me."

We all have things we would like for God to 'fix': finances, marriages, wayward children, jobs, physical features that we label 'too much of' or 'not enough of' or 'just not the way I want'. But when is the last time we asked God simply, 'fix me'? I have to admit, God has really been dealing with me in this area (no, actually it's been more like hammering - I do have a stubborn streak). I tend to look at what surrounds me and want those things to change. The 'If only...I just wish...why can't I...or why don't they...'  Maybe what I need to be looking at is me and what needs to change.

I heard a sermon recently by a man, well into his 70s, addressing this very subject. His text was 15 little words nestled in the middle of Psalm 37, "Take delight in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart" (v.4). Dr. Hill put it this way: "if you try to delight in what you desire, your desires will never bring you any delight."  His point was this: until I delight myself in the Lord first (the result of which is a contended heart), my desires will never satisfy me. You guessed it: hammer firmly in hand, nail placed strategically right between my eyes, swing with intent. Bam!

Will God 'fix' Mikey? I don't have any idea. Conventional wisdom, the history of medicine, and DNA would all say no. But everyone who knows and loves Mikey would tell you he doesn't need 'fixing'. Is this a pat-on-the-back, "just give God the desires of your heart, son" quick fix? Absolutely not. I don't doubt for a moment that God created Mikey in his mama's womb exactly the way He planned. I don't question that His purpose for Mikey's life is of any less importance than any other person on planet Earth. Does knowing that make it easy? Of course not. Does it satisfy Mikey's desire to be more like his siblings and their friends? Probably not. Does it explain God? No more than understanding how a clock works explains eternity.

The lesson is for me. For us. Fact is, we live in a broken world. There always have been and always will be circumstances and situations that we wish could be fixed. But how would those circumstances and situations change if nothing changed except the heart through which we look at them? Thank you, Dawn, for offering me a view behind closed doors; and thank you, Mikey, for being you.


I think my Christmas list will be short this year: Dear Santa, I want God to fix me.

Monday, December 5, 2011

Where Are Your Eyes?

A pastor friend of mine was sharing the story recently about an afternoon early in his ministry when he and another minister friend were relaxing on a bench looking out across a church campus. The church was quite old and had gone through multiple building additions and renovations over the years. As with many churches of its day, the cemetery sat immediately next to the sanctuary and so the rest of the campus had been built up around these two original structures. While the two men sat looking out across the campus my friend was letting his eyes and mind wander among the tombstones, imagining the men and women who were buried there. Had they lived long, productive, influential lives? Or in the eyes of the community had their lives been cut short, robbed of opportunity? Had they been blessed with good work and happy marriages? Children? Were they prayer warriors or troublemakers? Interrupting all these thoughts the other minister commented, "Man, I would give anything to be out there right now!" Shocked and more than a little concerned, my friend responded, "Whoa! Wait a minute, brother. Things aren't really that bad are they?"

At that moment each of the men realized what the other had set his eyes on. My pastor friend was looking at the cemetery. The other minister was looking just beyond at the playground.

While Christmas centers on the birth of the Savior, I find myself spending lots of time thinking about Mary. Barely grown past childhood, this tender young woman was chosen to carry the son of God in her womb. Out of all eternity, God chose her.  GOD. And morning sickness, swollen feet, and backaches. I look at my own daughter, almost 13, and wonder: if she came to her father and I with the news that she was pregnant - but adamantly maintained her virginity - and told us that an angel had visited her to announce that she would become pregnant by the Hoy Spirit, what would we say? My first inclincation in 21st-century lingo would be to look at her and sarcastically ask, "Really?" My husband would probably be tempted to look at me and exclaim, "She's your daughter!"

Surely, Mary knew from that first moment of the angel's visit (which probably would have landed me in the funny farm) that a hard road awaited her. Shame, humiliation, gossip, rejection, finger-pointing and murmuring as she walked through town and attended services at the temple. What would the news of her pregnancy do to her family's good name? Did anyone really believe Joseph had been visited by an angel as well? Or was he simply trying to orchestrate a cover-up of his own immoral behavior? Was Mary able to share with her mother her fears, her cravings, the first little butterfly of movement in her womb? Did she laugh or cry when the son of God rolled over in her belly and kicked at her ribs?

In the face of all these questions I am reminded of a simple, yet profound statement made by Mary immediately upon the angel's revelation of God's incredible call upon her life. "I am the Lord's servant. May your word to me be fulfilled," Luke 1:38 NIV.  Mary's eyes were set on her Redeemer, the Author and Finisher of her faith. She didn't question whether or not God was able to do what the angel foretold (as did the elderly Zechariah upon the announcement that his barren wife Elizabeth would bear a son). Mary didn't doubt what God was going to do, she simply asked in childlike faith to understand how He was going to do it. God's messenger answered her and Mary embraced the first step of a journey that brought the world a Savior.

As the calendar moves us closer to the day we celebrate the giving and receiving of gifts, food and family, and the wonder of Christmas morning, let us remember that the most excellent gift of God came through one woman who had her eyes set on eternity.

May the word of the Lord be fulfilled in us this Christmas season and throughout our lives.