Destination Discipline

It’s been raining again. But it’s not a little “drip, drip, drop, little April showers” that happens in Bambi. It’s a cold and fussy, snot-like moisture that finds the crevices in rooves and basement corners and creeps in. It’s the nasty drivel that spits and leaves a brown stain on the ceiling where things were once crisp and white. It’s a “Where the mop?” kind of moment.

I’ve been working on a building a retaining wall. A few weeks ago I started to build the steps. I had the foundation all laid before I realized I didn’t know what I was doing. So there are piles of dirt and limestone gravel waiting to be moved and I haven’t the brain power to finish the puzzle. I’ve been watching Youtube videos and looking at pictures but I haven’t the confidence to do what they do. So when the rain started washing away my dirt, I just sighed. What I really need is for an expert to come in and just finish it for me, but I can’t afford that. So I decided maybe I don’t need stairs. I’ll just build up the wall and fill it in with dirt and finish it off with creeping flowers to cover my ineptitude.

But there’s a level of disappointment I can’t articulate in that approach. I really want to “finish well.” I’ve spent a few years building this thing now and it seems like giving up is well, really lame. But I’m in the messy middle of the project and I can’t see my way out of it so matter which angle I stare from. And believe me, I’ve analyzed them all.

A friend of mine is going through a pretty tough time with one of her children. She’s tried any number of therapies and none of them are working. His behavior is off the charts bad. He’s rebellious, hot-tempered, and defiant. He’s also wickedly compulsive. This past year he’s been out of school more than he’s been in and she’s out-of-her mind worried about him. She’s reached a stage of hopelessness unbeknownst to people who never had a child with behavioral disorders.

“Some hearts are built on a floodplain.” – Sara Groves

The other day she felt the waves of despair lapping at the edge of her feet. So she chucked all her plans for the day and fled to the river to pray. She grabbed her bible and a cup of coffee and followed the two-lane road until it ended at the Marina. There she sat–reading Hebrews and weeping.

Hebrews 11 describes the faith of people who lived long ago; Noah, Abraham, and Moses. The narrator tells us of the many wonderful things God did for them; saving one from a flood, giving one back the life of his son, delivering the last (and all the Israelites) from certain death near the Red Sea. But then he says something curious:

“These all died in faith, not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar, and having acknowledged that they were strangers and exiles on the earth.” Hebrews 11:13

So what exactly were they promised that they didn’t receive?

“For people who speak thus make it clear that they are seeking a homeland. If they had been thinking of that land from which they had gone out, they would have had opportunity to return. But as it is, they desire a better country, that is, a heavenly one. therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city.” Hebrews 11:14-16

My friend called me from the edge of hope and asked me to walk her back. She was staring at homes on stilts–built right up next to the banks of the mighty Mississippi. There was even a little community playground with a swing set and a slide. No one was playing on them in the rain, of course, but there they were–just waiting for the river to rise and wash them all away.

My friend said, “How do people live like that? Right there on the edge of insanity?”

“I don’t know.” I said.

“I see a deck built 20 feet off the ground and on top of it are 3 gazebos. Why would somebody build like that? I mean, I’m looking at a pavilion and a bevy of boats at their docks and all I can think about are floods and tornados. It’s not safe.”

“Safety is an illusion,” I said. “None of us are safe. I suppose some people prefer to live by the water. I bet it’s beautiful when the weather is nice.”

“I guess.” She said.

We were silent for a few minutes and I said, “You are going to get through this. It’s going to be okay.”

“How do you know that?” I could hear the urgency in her voice, and the disbelief.

I told her the truth. I said, “because God has promised. Hebrews 10:23 says, Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.”

My friend cried for a while and then dried her eyes and went home. And I believe she will be okay. She trusts the Lord–even when life is messy and painful.

As for me, it finally stopped raining. I’m sitting here staring out at the mud and the unfinished wall, and the silly, greedy squirrels who are waiting for me to put out more walnuts. Because of the rain, the birdbath is full and the sparrows are taking turns splashing around. They seem so joyful and optimistic. And since their happiness is contagious, I decide to go outside and enjoy the sunshine with them.

I’ll finish my wall eventually–stairs or no stairs. And my friend will get through this difficult time in her journey. Because the thing is, earth is not our home. We are looking forward to a heavenly home whose foundation is built by God. And that is nothing if not grounds for filling the heart with gladness.

“The saying is trustworthy and deserving of full acceptance, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the foremost.” 1 Timothy 1:15

I was proud of my new helmet. It had a sun visor and a face shield that shaded my eyes. I pulled on layer after of layer of “performance wear” and inserted the new heated insoles into my shoes. It was a cool 28 degrees but I was ready to burn some rubber–bicycle tire rubber that is.

I quickly discovered that two pairs of gloves wasn’t enough. I would tuck a hand in a pocket for a mile and then switch hands. The wind was against me but I pushed through. I’m very stubborn and have a head as hard as an anvil. I wasn’t going to let a little cold weather and wind stop me. Mind over the elements, I said.

About halfway through my ride I got tired. I decided to “phone a friend”. The friend talked to me for about 10 miles, until I got within a mile from my house said goodbye. The steep incline to my street makes talking prohibitive. So I hung up and “bucked up” for the final stretch of my 27 mile trek around St. Charles County.

But then my tire caught on uneven pavement and I crashed into the road–right into oncoming traffic. I smacked my face and chest and tried to get up but I couldn’t. So I skootched my butt and tried to drag my bike out of harm’s way. Several people jumped out of vehicles to help me. A woman (whose name I don’t remember) grabbed my bike and handed me a paper towel. Blood was dripping from my left eye(which later bruised nicely but was not seriously damaged due to my new helmet). A young man in a white truck stopped traffic until I was out of the way. He then took my bike and me—home.

Between cracked ribs, a sprained wrist, and miscellaneous bruises, I was pretty miserable for a few weeks. I was also thankful. It could have been so much worse. I tried not to focus on the pain and instead on recovery. Finally, a month after the accident, I climbed back on my bike and set out.

What I discovered was nerve shattering–I had completely lost my confidence. Every patch of gravel, every uneven space, every blast of wind caused me to tense up with anxiety. I cut the ride short and aimed for home–feeling certain I would fall at any moment. I put the bike away and wondered how I would ever ride again.

I have faced many dilemma’s in my efforts to live a healthy lifestyle. Refined sugars clearly affect my neural pathways and need to be avoided at all costs. I haven’t done a good job of forsaking them this winter and have gained some weight. Therefore exercise is as important as ever. I am cultivating a mindset that if I “fall off the food wagon” I have to get back on again. And thus I am taking that approach with my bike. Fall off? Get back on. Crash into traffic? Recover and re-animate! But my confidence is still affected.

Back in the saddle again!

I set out today for a 30 mile ride. I plugged into a sermon series and tried to get my “footing” on the bike. The wind was fierce at times and I stopped on the side of the road several times to take a deep breath, adjust my saddle, and wait for traffic. But I made it 29 miles! And I was super proud that I was able to climb the steep hill back to my home without walking the bike. This is more than a “fake it until you make it” philosophy. The truth is, I HAVE to face my fear and conquer it if I ever want to enjoy riding my bike again.

There are a couple other areas of my life that I need to apply this mentality. I am really struggling to trust people after being hurt. It’s so difficult to forgive and to love people who have been so unkind. But this is the path Jesus walked and so must I.

I wonder what my dear readers are struggling with these days? Whatever it is, you can conquer it with Christ’s help. Just keep getting on the bike. Just keep trying to ride. He goes before us and He will deliver us.

“And because lawlessness will be increased, the love of many will grow cold. But the one who endures to the end will be saved.” – Matthew 24:12-13

I have become entirely too comfortable with bitterness. Cynicism glistens on my brow. The slick excrete reeks of anger and malice; byproducts of rancid emotions that refuse to rinse off. But this is nothing compared to the contents of my heart. My heart, I fear, has grown cold.

And I can’t stand it anymore. The lies propagated by corrupt politicians via their mouthpiece–the insipid media–have turned my stomach sour. Worse, my friends have failed me and I have failed them too. And I’m one step away from the edge of the cliff and there’s no one to save me. I feel utterly alone.

I spent three hours exercising this morning–chasing endorphins that might make me feel better. I’ve been eating too much again; but the “comfort food” does nothing but give me a tummy ache. That’s not true either. I’ve gained 16 pounds. I am ashamed of myself, but eating is the only time I feel better.

I made a comment on my Facebook fitness group that “I’ve lost control. I’m a failure.” One of the ladies disagreed.

“Margaret, you haven’t lost control. None of us have any control over so many things right now (covid, weather, etc.). This is hard what we’re doing right now. It’s important that we see this time as a type of adversity, a hardship to be worked through and conquered versus any kind of personal failure. I’m working hard daily to give myself grace.”

She’s right, of course. Then I remembered, it’s how we respond to adversity that matters.

I have been responding to adversity with hopelessness. And to hopelessness I have added anger. And to anger, envy of those who have better life circumstances. And to envy, malice, and to malice, hate. That hatred has grown into a rabid vine that has choked out every happiness. In short, I closed the windows of my soul to joy and the darkness feels like death. And the thing is, I just really need is a good, sturdy machete!

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. Be sober-minded; be watchful. Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour. Resist him, firm in your faith, knowing that the same kinds of suffering are being experienced by your brotherhood throughout the world. And after you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the dominion forever and ever. Amen.” – 1 Peter 5:6-11

I feel pretty embarrassed writing all of this. After all, I’m supposed to be smarter than this. I really do read my bible every day and “pray without ceasing” but my adversary found the chink in my armor. My expectations of the repercussions of this fake pandemic did not match reality. I never anticipated so many people would be taken by the fake news media (myself included, early on). I didn’t expect to lose friendships over whether to mask or not, and–worst of all– to discover close family members hate me because of my faith in God. And since this seems to be our new reality–as in, it’s not going away–I have to find a permanent way to cope with it.

I have really appreciated Douglas Wilson’s blog. Thanks, Becky. And I have learned a lot from Dr. James White at Apologia Church. Thanks, Rick. I’ve started attending a new church, though I’m scared to trust church people again. But today I decided I am going to endure to the end. It takes courage to fight and I have decided I will be brave. I will brave the opinions of people who disagree with me. I will stand steadfast in my faith in Jesus Christ. I know I don’t have all the answers but I’m going to keep praying and trusting in the Lord.

With that in mind, I’m going to close with some verses I memorized several years ago in my struggle with food addiction. Maybe they will help the dear reader in their struggles? Or maybe no one is even reading my blog anymore. Either way, thank you God for the Apostle Peter. Where would I be without these words?

His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature, having escaped the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.

For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, mutual affection; and to mutual affection, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. But whoever does not have them is nearsighted and blind, forgetting that they have been cleansed from their past sins. (2 Peter 1:3-9)