Archive for the The Journey Category

I have recently been watching the mini-series, “Stranger Things” on Netflix. My family is entranced by the heroes and their story arc and so we are slowly parsing out the episodes since they are few. If you have not watched this show, I will distill it for you. A young boy is abducted by a monster and falls into an alternate universe. His family, friends, and a local sheriff will stop at nothing to find him. In their quest to rescue him they face adversity by way of their town folk and a truly horrifying monster, but they exhibit courage, tenacity and fierce loyalty in the face of extremely intimidating odds. The fun thing about the show is all the 80’s nostalgia and the creative way in which the writers incorporate scary movie themes while infusing all of the good comradery that characterized the adventure shows of that time period. I will try to refrain from using plot spoilers for those who wish to enjoy it.

At one point during the first season I told my young son that I was afraid to watch anymore. He said, “But the monsters aren’t real, Mom.” The show even pokes fun at the cheesy special effects from that era. As a character dies on a television program they are watching, the science teacher tells his date that the gore is not actual flesh dissolving, but rather bubblegum and wax melting. It is a seminal moment for many who enjoy scary flicks; namely, it reassures the viewers that the carnage is not real.

The sad thing is, in reality, there are monsters. They may not look like the Demogorgon but they do exist.

A good friend of ours was brutally murdered last week. I wept when I heard the news. It felt as if I had been punched in the stomach. I could not catch my breath. I was confused and angry, but more than anything, I wanted to know why God didn’t stop it.

As I poured out my tears in prayer, I steadfastly resisted the notion that God is the monster. How easy it would be to shake my fists in anger and blame him. Still, I believe he is good. Not only because the Bible says he is, but because I have personally experienced that goodness. Still, I admit that right now I can only say He is good through tears as I look forward with hope to the day we will see our friend again.

As the initial shock of horror fades, I find myself praying for the perpetrators to be caught and brought to justice. I consider how the life of my friend has been stolen. Her family has been robbed of her beautiful spirit and there is nothing we can do to bring her back. I also think about the person or persons who did this terrible thing and how they too have been tricked into believing a lie. The murder and the lies did not begin with them. As wicked as they are, they too are victims.

“He was a murderer from the beginning, and does not stand in the truth, because there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks out of his own character, for he is a liar and the father of lies.” (John 8:44)

Jesus was speaking of Satan, a very real being whom he created and cast out of Heaven. He lied to Adam and Eve and enticed them to sin, thereby causing their bodies to die. But even though God allowed this terrible thing to happen, he was not caught off guard. I like the way John Piper writes of this in his book, “Spectacular Sins: And Their Global Purpose in the Glory of Christ”.

“The glory of Christ is the main purpose that God had in mind when he permitted Adam’s sin, and with it the Fall of all humanity into sin. Remember what we have seen about God’s permission: Whatever God permits, he permits for a reason. And his reasons are always infinitely wise and purposeful. He did not have to let the Fall of Satan or of Adam happen. He could have stopped it. The fact that he did not stop it means he has a reason, a purpose for it. And he doesn’t make up his plans as he goes along. What he knows to be wise, he has always known to be wise—eternally.”

The death of our friend does not catch God off guard. More importantly, He grieves with us over this awful sin.

Martin Luther wrote poignant words about death in 1529 that still ring true today. “The body they may kill, God’s truth abideth still. His kingdom is forever.” (from the song, “A Mighty Fortress is our God”) The truth is, we all die physically, but our souls are eternal. God reigns today from the throne room of Heaven. One day we will all meet him face to face and acknowledge that He is Lord of all.

The bible is very specific about our true enemy, the real monster of this world.

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.”  – Ephesians 6:11

We have no strength of our own to fight against this horrific foe. He hates humanity and wants to kill us all. But Jesus loves us and wants to save us from his wrath and power. All we need do is believe in him, surrender to his authority, and make him Lord of our lives. Satan has already lost. Hell was originally prepared for Satan and his angels—not for men. One day he will go there. Unfortunately, so will we if we do claim the forgiveness for sins that Jesus offers.

There is a critical moment in “Stranger Things” when one character confronts the monster she is most terrified of in order to save the friends she loves. This is exactly what Jesus did for us when he allowed himself to be murdered on the cross. These sentiments were spoken at the funeral for my friend as her family proclaimed their absolute trust in Jesus in these terrible circumstances. We know that God is in complete control and that even though he has allowed this terrible crime, there is complete justice. God has already defeated the greatest monster of all time—the devil. One day he will be thrown into hell forever. (Luke 16:19-31) (John 5:24-29)

Death is the ultimate curse for humanity. We were never meant to die. God has placed eternity in the hearts of men and women and that is why the gospel is such good news. Yes, our bodies will all die, but we can be saved from eternal death; separation from God forever. It is not a hopeful wish. It is true.

Today we grieve with hope. One day we will see Jesus in the flesh. I will also see my friend. And I will weep no more.

 

**disclaimer: Stranger Things incorporates adult themes and language I would not deem appropriate for younger viewers.

Have you ever wondered if your life mattered? Do you find yourself crippled by insecurity because your appearance or functional abilities don’t match up to those around you? Are you too thin? Too heavy? Too tall? Too short? Or any other host of physical abnormalities? Are you poor? Not of good social standing? A felon? Worse, are you simply invisible? Does no one even seem to notice that you exist?

Joseph Merrick was a man born seemingly normal in 1862 but who later developed physical abnormalities that made him difficult to look at. Physical defects began to develop in his formative years that included bony protrusions, swelling of the face, hands and feet, and loosening skin. So frightening was his appearance that he was unable to make a living and made the decision to show himself to people for money. His story was immortalized in a play and later the movie, “The Elephant Man”. He died when he was 27 years old during the seemingly innocent act of trying to sleep lying down. People speculated that the weight of his head crushed his windpipe.

But Merrick was no idiot. He was fully cognizant of his deformities and forced to come to terms with not only his body but his place in the world. He often read a poem to those who paid to view him up close.

What makes a human being relevant? What is the measure of a man’s worth? Anyone who has ever experienced insecurity because of a physical or emotional ailment has asked this question. Others ask this question in regard to those who are intellectually impaired. I’m not certain I’m qualified to comment on such a weighty question except for the fact that I too have questioned my value and place in this world.

Personal relevance begins with a deeply ingrained sense of identity. The way we view ourselves in correlation to those around us is important. Should we start to believe our life has no value, we despair. Should we overinflate our worth, those around us despair (of being around us!).

For those who are theistically minded, the idea that man was created in the image of God presents a unique vision for the sacredness of the human soul. But that does not mean that atheists and agnostics do not believe in a purpose driven life. I appreciate Kevin Yuill’s poignant case against physician assisted suicide when he states, “But when society legalizes assisted dying, it surely corrupts the fundamental belief in the value of life that underlies all medical treatment.” I would gladly drink coffee with him and discuss why he believes all human life has value outside of a biblical world view. I understand his viewpoint to mean that people who long for death do not have absolute clarity for themselves. Because of this they are therefore dependent on doctors to legitimize/protect their lives. (Hopefully I’m not oversimplifying this.)

A non-believing friend was recently describing her experience with personal adversity and her desire to escape an unfortunate situation. In essence she said, “I want to experience joy. My life has more value than to endure the wrong that is being done to me and to my children. I only get one life and life is too beautiful to waste.” I concur wholeheartedly. I would also posit that the measure of a man is not complete without acknowledging that a person is more than how they are treated by others. We cannot be defined by how others view us because those positions are relative. All human life is beautiful—even magical—if only because we have no capacity to bring it into being. This is why murder is abhorrence. To take that which one cannot create is the ultimate identity theft.

We are not valuable simply because we think, speak or act a certain way. Conversely, our lives do not lack meaning simply because we are not visually appealing or of a certain heritage or royal lineage. Christie Brinkley is not more valuable than Stephen Hawking. Neither does Prince Harry have more worth than Jack Black simply because of his family tree. We all have our place and purpose in this great, mysterious life. Every moment matters, even one that is mundane. The very breath in our lungs indicates that we are more than the sum of our syntheses. That is why racism is immoral, sexism is wicked, and class warfare is iniquitous. What gives us the right to infringe upon the sacred rights of another human being simply because they inconvenience our world view? This is why I believe abortion is an abomination. If we are willing to recognize the terrible wrongness of a tiny kitten glued to the road, we should be able to recognize that the destruction of human life in its most vulnerable form is murder.

I had lunch with a friend this week who doesn’t necessarily conform to societal norms yet is uniquely beautiful. She suffered terribly at the hands of someone she wanted to trust but who lied, manipulated and cheated her for years. She is bravely walking the path she feels her God is directing her to travel, even though those who know and love her best are fearful for where that path will lead. She knows she doesn’t have all the answers and she is faithfully pursuing the fundamental longing we all have to determine our identity and purpose, and to be loved simply for who we are.

This is why I love the story of Jesus Christ. The bible foretold of his birth, “He had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him. He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not.” (Isaiah 53:2-3) When people devalue human life, I can trust that the God I love does not. He created human life. Jesus came to earth and claimed to be God. He died for the sins of the people who rejected and murdered him in order to reconcile them to himself and then rose from the dead. He sympathizes with my weakness because he too experienced it in human form. I believe that He loves and values all human life and therefore so do I.

Sometimes I develop a sincere longing for relevance. I want to know that I am here for a reason. I want to know that I am more than the size of my waistline, my intellect or my position in society. When I pray and remember Jesus, I am convinced that my soul is just as sacred as those of my non-believing friends. We do not necessarily have to agree on all points to love each other well. Our shared experience in the common framework called life should at the very least enable us to respect the splendor of our diversity.

Today, if you feel lost or hopeless or unloved, I promise that you are not. Keep walking. Your journey is not over yet. Feelings betray us as often as other humans. If you have not arrived at a confident conclusion, keep searching. My prayer for you is simple; that you know the truth and so be set free.

Have you ever had the kind of day that necessitated escape? Did the report malfunction? Did your friend shout at you for no good reason? Did the pain from your chronic condition beat you about the head with chains of despair? Was the strain too much for your weary shoulders? Did you turn to that vice again for comfort even though you know it only tightens its grip on your soul? Take heart, Dear One. You are not alone.

My friend wrote to me today from the tail end of her treatments for breast cancer. For months now she has endured wave after wave of radiation and chemotherapy. All of her hair fell out. She has struggled with radiation burns, sadness and self-pity. Some days she wonders if she can take it any more, but she has two young boys who need her. So she fights with all the energy she can muster and presses forward. My friend is my hero. She is courageous in her fragility. She walks a path she did not choose and weeps with suffering. I too grieve that she must suffer. How I wish I could change her story, but I’m not the author of it.

Yesterday was a very tense day at work. My leader asked me to schedule a meeting with several very important people. It was comical in its complexity. In fact, I felt somewhat like it would be much easier to fly a kite on a breezeless day than put all of those people in a room together for an hour. His exact words via email were, “Margaret, make your magic happen.” But the stars did not align. Travel schedules conflicted. Instructions were vague, causing me to chase down additional details. It was frustrating and exhausting.  Finally, I said to one of the ladies I was working with, “My wand is broken. My bippity, boppity, boo is all bummed out.” And we had a nice little laugh. That’s how it goes sometimes. But as I was driving home I felt the itch–the overwhelming urge–the necessity to escape my stress headache with ice cream. Chick Fil A ice cream to be exact.

Let the reader be advised that this vice is one of my strongest. When I consume Chick Fil A ice cream, I go all in. I don’t eat it to enjoy a little snack, I eat it to escape my problems. It is an elixir, a tonic, an anesthetic. But not only does it not fix the problem, it hooks me once more. Whatever it is about sugar that affects my brain, turns me into a raging lunatic who must consume until I’m sick. And then, once the sickness wears off, I need more. I am disheartened to admit how frequently I have given into this craving and fallen prey to months of daily indulging. It is a horrible addiction–one I try to avoid at all costs because I know what a terrible trap it is.

I have spent the majority of my life turning to food for emotional comfort and therefore, no matter how long I practice living a healthy lifestyle, there are times when I must strain against the urge to turn to it once more. I do not always succeed, but today I choose not give in. Today, I choose courage in the midst of frailty and hope instead of despair. I choose to take long, deep breaths, hug my sons, and write instead. Even though today was worse than yesterday. Even though Chick Fil A ice cream is still calling (screaming) my name.

There isn’t usually an easy answer to fighting against the desire to escape our circumstances. But escape is actually an illusion. We chase after and cling to wisps of smoke thinking it will “take the edge off”. Which they may–for a moment. But then we face once more the jagged path ahead. It takes moxy to stand in the midst of suffering and refuse to try to escape. Often no one even notices the sacrifices we make. We cling to sobriety like a man clinging to a tree in a hurricane. We want to let go because our arms are tired, but to let go is certain doom. So we just keep holding on.

Today if you are struggling against a powerful vice or addiction, take heart. Your addiction does not define you. You can say no. I know it feels impossible. I know your arms are tired. I know it feels like an escape, but it’s not. It’s the mouth to a trap door from which it is very, very difficult to escape.

Take a deep breath.

Ask for help.

Pray for peace.

And never, ever stop fighting.