Destination Discipline

Have you ever been on a boat in the middle of a storm?

Some years back our family went on vacation at Table Rock Lake. We splurged and rented a pontoon boat, even though several members of our party either could not swim or were terrified of water. We fastened our life vests and drove far out into the lake. Once there, the members of our party who liked the water and could swim, jumped in and began to paddle around the boat. We could not touch the bottom and I remember the euphoria of freedom. I was still overweight at the time and rather buoyant. I remember bobbing around like a porpoise and relishing my “weightless” state of existence. (Floating was the only thing I enjoyed about being overweight).

While we swam, the people inside the boat began to get nervous. The wind was whipping up waves which caused the boat to rock back and forth and up and down like a cork. We did not know a storm was in the forecast. As the wind picked up we climbed back in and my husband began to guide us back to port.

But we were not fast enough. The storm was upon us! I remember my loved ones crying in fear as my husband struggled to get the boat to shore. I held tight to my children—knowing there was nothing I could do to save us. We were completely at the mercy of the wind and waves with no safe harbor in sight. The cold rain pelted our faces and my husband stood grim-faced at the helm. I will be honest, I was certain we were going to die. Visions of a broken boat and lifeless bodies floating in the water filled my mind. The adults pelted my husband with commands—none of which made sense. Finally he shouted above the storm, “Be quiet!” and we all stopped making noise. It was clear that we were in a serious situation and only one person could drive the boat.

I realize the storm metaphor is a little overused. Forgive me. It’s just that emotions are like storms; they send gale force winds and if we have no strong captain at the helm, we are completely at their mercy.

Pain

The winds of relational pain slapped at my hull last night and send my boat to bobbing. Suddenly I started shouting commands at God. “You need to get my boat out of this water right now! Don’t you know I’m getting seasick?”

And God said no. And then he sent a stronger wind.

Disappointment

And another wave hit me and I said, “God, I’m in real trouble now. My hopes are dashed by disappointment. Please, make the storm stop.”

And God said no. And then he sent hail.

Anger

And I said, “God, what are you trying to do to me? This really hurts. I’ve got bruises all over my face and arms and I can barely breathe. Can’t you see I’m trying to get to shore? Are you trying to kill me?”

And God didn’t answer. Instead, he revealed the full force of the hurricane.

Now maybe you are reading this and thinking I shouldn’t go there. After all, people are suffering on the East coast after Hurricane Florence. Obviously, I’m not dead or in any way physically impacted in landlocked Missouri, but I can appreciate their suffering having lived through two tornadoes and the resulting power outages. I have faced fierce winds, flooding,  and a refrigerator full of foods gone bad. I have stood under gutters that sagged with rain water and have mopped muddy water from my basement. I can appreciate the devastation that occurs during a storm.

Grief

So then my boat sank. I began to cry. “God, where are you? Don’t you love me anymore? How can I get anywhere without a boat? I cried out to you for help and you sank me. You hurt my loved ones. You wrecked my dreams. Now all I’ve got is this stinking life vest and a withering ache. What in heaven’s name am I supposed to do now? I’m stranded. And the storm is still blowing.”

And then God whispered, “Trust me.”

My husband was fighting the wind and waves when he spotted a man standing on a nearby dock who was waving at us to come in. Eric guided the boat towards the stranger who quickly tied us down and ushered us up a dirt path and into a building. Even though we thought we were in the worst of the storm, we were not. The moment we got inside, the real deluge began. Had we been on the lake five minutes longer we could not have made it to shore and I am certain we would have wrecked.

The man (whose name I don’t recall) owned a small resort on the lake. The building served as a small rec center for guests. We stood there dripping in the ice cold air conditioning; thankful to be alive but thoroughly wrung out. The man’s wife brought us all towels and encouraged us to make ourselves comfortable until the storm had passed. Eventually, the wind stopped and the sun came out. The man and woman helped us back onto our rented pontoon boat and waved goodbye. It was a sober trip back to the dock with not much talking. Candidly, we were quite finished with boating for the day.

It’s really hard to trust God when the storms hit. I don’t know why I think I’ve mastered steering through them. I conquer one wave only to be overwhelmed by the next. Were it not for my steadfast resolve to trust God, I would most certainly drown.

My steadfast anchor of the soul today is Psalm 34. “I will bless the Lord at all times. His praise will continually be in my mouth. My soul makes its boast in the Lord. Let the humble hear and be glad.”

I don’t know why God sends storms any more than I know why God allows suffering. But I do know that if I cry out to him for help, he will help me. The help may not be the help I hoped for or even wanted, but I have come to know that the help He sends is the help He means me to have. Therefore, I can rest safe in His arms—knowing that He loves me and that I am not forsaken or abandoned. Today, if you are caught in the storm, remember He is a faithful friend. Trust Him. 

I Peter 1:3-9 “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls.”

Have you ever felt overwhelmed? Did you feel like you were hanging onto your sanity by your teeth and with your hands tied behind your back? Did the vices that used to captivate you erupt like poisonous gas before your eyes? Did you watch the green fumes thread the air, working their way towards you? Did you shiver with fear, knowing you had no choice but to breathe them in? Did you wonder, “Is this it? Am I a goner for sure this time?”

So often we hang on the razor’s edge while the vapors of our lusts weave around us. Whether we are one day, one week or one year sober, we long to inhale and drop into oblivion, even though we know we really just need to hang on.

Hold Fast to Hope!

I recently placed a reservation for my boss at an upscale hotel on the West Coast. The agent I spoke with had a French accent and described in luxurious detail the many amenities he would have to look forward to while traveling on business. She paused briefly after informing me of the complimentary “all you can drink” wine hour, as if there could be no more attractive perk than this. Candidly, I wondered how alcoholics respond. My boss is not an alcoholic, but I have many family members and friends who are.

So how do we say no when friends, family, and even hotels are spurring us forward?

I recently went in search of a really good story. I find that stories of people who have succeeded in the midst of tremendous adversity give me hope. I found such a story in the biography of Chuck Norris titled, “Against All Odds.” In an early chapter he describes growing up with an abusive, alcoholic father. Mr. Norris spent his formative years watching his dad bully and berate his kind-hearted mother. Still, he wrote, “She never gave up praying for Dad, and she never tired of telling Wieland (Chuck’s younger brother) and me that we could make something better of our lives, that God had good things in store for us.”

There are times when the only way to resist temptation is to wave our hope flag high. In the moment of temptation we may feel as if it will crush us. We may even feel the saliva building under our tongue as we think about the plate of brownies situated right outside our work station. We manufacture a thousand scenarios where we eat only one and are satisfied, along with a host of other lies that have led us into dark alleys of addiction in the past. But we must resist because we know that nothing good will come from consuming that thing we were once enslaved to, and then we must hold fast to hope.

Courage is Contagious!

I recently listened to an interview with Timothy Keller, a respected pastor, teacher and writer. His new book, “Walking with God Through Pain and Suffering” looks compelling. During the discussion he said,

“We know that if God is good, he doesn’t enjoy our suffering. We know that if God is powerful, he could stop our suffering, but he doesn’t.” He then said, “Part of the reason for suffering may be that it makes us better human beings.” He pointed out that a wise person once said, “If there was no evil or suffering, there would never have been such a thing as courage or sacrifice. Still, if God has a purpose in suffering that goes beyond making us better people, it remains that we do not know why evil and suffering continue. God knows, but we do not.”

That is difficult for me to fathom. After all, in this context God seems like a monster. But the foundational tenet of the Christian faith is that Jesus was God. He entered into our pain and suffering, and he sympathizes with our pain. The death of Jesus on the cross causes me to find courage. Courage to ask for help. Courage to cling to him when all other hope fails. Courage because of all the promises he has made in his word, The Bible. And this kind of courage is contagious!

“For people swear by something greater than themselves, and in all their disputes an oath is final for confirmation. So when God desired to show more convincingly to the heirs of the promise the unchangeable character of his purpose, he guaranteed it with an oath, so that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us.” – Hebrews 6:16-18

Steely-eyed and Stubborn!

There are times I question if God is faithful. I wonder, will he allow me to be tempted beyond my ability? Will he really provide a way out? Because Chick Fil A ice cream is a very real possibility and I weep under the strain of wanting and not having it.

Still, I have been practicing steely-eyed tenacity. Meaning; I continue to hang onto the metal bar by my teeth and I pray like the dickens for God to send a strong wind to blow the poison gas away. I have faith that he will. And even if he does not–even if I have to inhale it because I have no other choice–I will not stop hoping in Him. My feelings are irrelevant. My fears are irrelevant. I will not let go of the bar. Because my relationship with Jesus is sweeter than any confection Julia Child ever conceived of and more satisfying than the tie breaking home run in a baseball game that’s gone into overtime.

This is the crux of discipline.

Chuck Norris wrote about this kind of discipline in his book. He said that learning tang soo do, a Korean style of martial arts, required special permission from the instructors who looked at him with skepticism. They let him into their training sessions which were five hours long, six days a week. He said, “I was learning discipline by developing the ability to do something that was never easy, not always pleasant, and about which I was not always enthusiastic.”

Maybe you will laugh at all my Chuck Norris analogies, but I have great respect for the man. This past week, after a month of torment by poisonous fumes via temptation, I read his words and found courage again. The stories of people who have succeeded give me hope. And that is why I have written this blog entry today. I hope my story will give you hope too. Never give up. Never surrender. Cry out to God for help and help will come. He has promised and He never breaks a promise.

 

 

It was an ordinary night. The treefrogs were chirping, her husband was snoring, and Nervous Nellie was tucked into her tidy bed with nary a concern. She was silently snoozing when suddenly her heart began to pound like the base drum at a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert. Her skin moistened and her muscles tightened, like a rubber band stretched taut and ready to sting the thigh of some unsuspecting adolescent. A recurring thought ran through her mind; “I’ve forgotten the horseradish sauce and the hoagie just won’t be the same without it.” Nellie knew all too well that she was the only one who made decent horseradish sauce and it seemed inconceivable that those who attended the church picnic would not notice. Sure, she could buy one at the grocery store but it just wasn’t the same as homemade. The red digits on her nightstand reiterated that it was no time to be galivanting around the kitchen and so she convinced herself that it would wait until later in the morning. Still, her heart had just gotten to the part of the song where the lead singer “gives it away now”, and the sheets were like seaweed around her neck, and it felt like a bole weevil was boring a hole into the side of her temple. So she closed her eyes and silently prayed that the commotion would cease so she could get a decent night’s sleep. Except it didn’t. And she didn’t. And after 5 nights of Chili Pepper madness she was getting pretty darn tired of “giving it away now”.

Have you ever dealt with chronic anxiety that seems to have no specific cause? Have you ever arm wrestled with lack of sleep and won the grand prize; chronic depression? Did you try to calm your mind only to imagine giant tree limbs falling on your house? Did you take so many deep breaths trying to calm down that you swallowed a spider? Take heart, dear reader! You are not alone, and the remedy is simple. Rum and bubble gum. But seriously, what does one do when one’s body rebels against good common sense? What does one do when the nights and days begin to blur into one crazy merry-go-round of dark and light with nothing but nausea in between? And what does one do when sanity skips town with a buck-toothed juvenile delinquent who has promised to introduce it to his inbred second cousin?

It’s simple, really. One smiles and says, “Howdy Cousin. That’s a mighty fine third earlobe you have there. Mind if I give it a tickle?”

Or, if you’re like Nellie, you develop and incorrigible itch. An ice cream itch that is. So not only does poor Nellie lay in bed at night humming horrible songs from the 1990’s and worrying about silly things like moles ravaging her iris bulbs, she now craves Chick Fil A ice cream every second of every waking moment that she’s trying not to fall asleep at her desk. And when not thinking about ice cream and how tasty it is, she is avoiding other humans because they might ask about the hollow look in her eyes or the agonized twitch at the corner of her mouth or the handfuls of hair that are accumulating in her bathroom trashcan because her nerves are so doggone shot.

But even though Nellie is dealing with a lot of internal combustion, she has one steadfast anchor of the soul; Jesus Christ. Even though the air popper stopped popping and the brain synapses stopped firing she can trust that she is never, ever alone in her suffering. She holds fast to the promise that the Lord’s portion is his people (Deuteronomy 32:9). She knows there is no God besides Him. He kills and makes alive; He wounds and heals; and there is none that can deliver out of His hand. (Deuteronomy 32:39). And when Nellie stands in the front yard and watches the falling stars at 1:52am while not sleeping and trying desperately to stop worrying about runaway trains, she praises God that she is never forsaken. She thanks Him for loving her and laying down His life for her and suffering unimaginable pain so that she could simply draw near to Him in times in these.

And Nellie knows this is only a season. And even if it isn’t there is nothing anyone can do to snatch her out of God’s hand.

So take heart, Dear Reader! If you are suffering with anxiety and depression today, you are not alone. More than that, you are deeply and desperately loved. Just like Nellie. Whose incorrigible itch found scratching when she did not eat the ice cream and instead enjoyed the sweet gift of homegrown Longans from a kind-hearted co-worker. (Thanks, Victor!) Because God knew exactly what she needed even when she didn’t. And what comfort could possibly be better than that?