Destination Discipline

I found myself on the couch buried beneath an afghan my friend crocheted for me. From within the warm layers, I rubbed my fluffy slippers together and tried to shake off the chill of the fever that made my bones ache. Worse, the tickle from deep in my bronchial tubes was trickling so that I couldn’t help but cough spasmodically. And when done wracking and choking, I stared at the book shelf and wheezed. What lovely books, I thought. How I wish I could read them. Alas, I was too sick.

Sickness always finds me unprepared and unguarded. It’s strange really, how life is moving along and then, well, everything stops. Time trips over itself. And the minutes become a long tangle of questions, or worse, exclamation points.

What are we if we aren’t producing anything?

My identity is so frequently tied up with the work I do, whether at home or in the office. I crave accomplishment. I need validation. So when I’m stuck on the couch and the only thing I produce is the carbon monoxide from my nostrils when I exhale, I get to feeling, well, rather stale. Who am I?

I don’t generally have a family that dotes on me. The people in my house tend to be wrapped up in their own situations. So when I found myself on the couch with my little grand daughter tending to me, I was rather humbled. As I lay there shivering, she sat in a chair at my side and sang little songs to me that she was making up as she sang. I didn’t understand a word but I felt her love and care. I also felt tears trickling down my cheeks. What made her bend low to sit with her “Grammy”? To talk sweetly, and pet her hand and to sing songs to cheer her? I was really moved by her tenderness. What a gift!

I’ve been going through a rough time lately. I’ve been having panic attacks and many sleepless nights. I’ve been praying the Psalms in all my waking moments and waiting for God to intervene. I remember a pastor saying many years ago that when God doesn’t remove the miserable situation, He sends His comfort. Sometimes comfort takes the form of a little girl with big brown eyes, cherub cheeks and dark frizzy hair. I never imagined I could love someone so much, or be loved in such a pure and unique way.

When the days are difficult, I am thankful for an identity rich in the love of my Heavenly Father and my precious granddaughter. When I struggle to remember who I am, it is a deep comfort to know I am loved.

The leaves on the Bradford Pear tree are fluttering. Their movement in the Autumn breeze is so delicate that the tree itself appears light enough to lift. The Chickadee is hiding among the green and red tassels, watching for the woman in the window sipping green tea. There are glittering specks on her cheek that catch the early morning light. But he is more concerned with the little black seeds and his crop, which is not quite full. He is waiting for the fat, greedy tree scaler with the bottlebrush tail to finish thrashing the feeder so he can steal a few more seeds. She gobbles and glares. As if she didn’t have enough acorns, she has to eat all his food too.

The wren is singing again. The show-off. He snatches little crumbs of walnut and peanut butter and then bursts into song. He flashes his tail and prances from roof to feeder to perch to, WAIT, that’s my spot! Too close! Get out of my space! With a flash of his tail, he snatches an insect from the branch and flits away again with a trill of laughter. The woman is smiling.

“Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!” He crunches and snaps the seed in his little beak. His friend, the titmouse and her sisters swoop and dive nearby. “Bee bee bee!” They shout while they delight in their aerial dance. Then, they are moving through the Sycamore top with precision. Their melodies are harmonies even when they are just laughing at each other. They distract him for a time. And then he begins to mourn her again.

She was light. When first he saw her on the feeder, she was new and fresh. Her black cap glistened, and her white cheeks fluffed. She was sorting the seeds as if they were meant to be counted. Her eyes were like beetle’s bottoms but filled with mirth. She turned her cheek to him and assessed, though he knew not what. But quickly she was off among the branches with her flock. He followed her because the look she gave was like a summer morning and the sun of her smile warmed him.

He won her heart and they made their nest. He watched and protected. He chased the hawk away with his brothers. He allowed no danger, no fear. And they found gladness in the leaves of the Bradford Pear. Their young grew and prospered. When she was hungry, he found food. When she shivered, he warmed. They were a unit, proud and glad. More, they were a family.

But she didn’t return that dusk. And when he searched, he found her near the road. He stayed for while, watching the feathers that no longer fluttered, the eyes that no longer saw. Her feet were clenched with nothing to perch on. She was still and there was no breath.

He stayed through the night and the morning, until the smoking machines shook the ground with their loud engines and cruel motors. He had to leave her there. Murders! Wretched monstrosities!

Mockingbird

The mockingbird has disrupted his thought. She lands on the branch above and surveys him with a tilt of her head. The tree is shivering as the cold winds blow. Her Gray Majesty of long tail and song has known loss too. Today she quips and chatters. But she knows the way of things. And with her staccato notes she tells the world the way it is and the way it will be.

“Loss and Life are the circle of things.

Crickets and peanuts and wanderlust dreams.

Winter and Summer erupt in their way.

Bonding and mating and fresh sprigs of hay.

Little pink mouths with a tongue that does sing,

Life is still filled with such beautiful things.”

The mourning dove alights on the bath and dips his toes in the water. He is watching, watching, watching and waiting, waiting, waiting. And when he is sure that no predator comes, he splashes and shuffles. His mate is nearby so he rushes and preens. The geese honk and fly over in formation. The season changes again.

The chickadee grabs a seed. “Chicka-dee-dee-dee!” Hunger is the driving force behind life. For now, the world moves in seasons as a frame of reference, but one day it will not be so. One day all grief will be gone, and sighing will linger no more. There will be everlasting light to fill eyes once full of tears. The Creator and Maker will shine joy and gladness and right all wrongs–death being most wrong of all. And maybe the chickadee will meet his mate again. Maybe they will dance and sing. Maybe they will just be still. Maybe they will look back and laugh.

The chickadee chomps his seed from the feeder and watches the woman in the window. “Thank you,” he says, and flies back to the Bradford Pear and his chattering leaves. Food is life. And life is still beautiful.

“We know that we are from God, and the whole world lies in the power of the evil one.” 1 John 5:19

Discipline makes me uncomfortable. In the moment, all discipline feels painful rather than pleasant, but when adhered to, there is a reward. Sometimes the reward feels so far off as to be unattainable – and so the feelings must be dealt with in order to submit to the purpose of the One who allows the pain.

There are several things one must truly understand to walk in the footsteps of Jesus:

• He loves me.
• I will suffer while living in this sinful world.
• When I suffer, I share in the afflictions of Christ
• I have a promised eternal inheritance
• I am never alone. Jesus is always with me.

Why do I write this out today?

Sometimes believers face unprecedented pain. It catches us off guard and our brains take on the consistency of scrambled eggs. Our rational thoughts evaporate like water on hot pavement, and we feel the searing pain in our soul.

I like how Joni Eareckson Tada describes suffering: “God permits what he hates to accomplish what He loves.” (Ten Words That Changed Everything About My Suffering | Desiring God) Mainly, our sanctification.

There’s that sticky “S” word. It’s a key tenet of my faith. It sounds fabulous when my circumstances are pretty and fine, but when the blender of life malfunctions and the pumpkin pie filling explodes and hits the ceiling – all bets are off as to how I’ll respond.

Working toward perfection

There is what I call a key “cop out” in our culture today. We say, “I’m only human” to excuse our weaknesses. We indulge in too much cake, too much wine, too many Oreos, or too much television. We use the word ‘binge’ as if it is actually acceptable for a child of God. Then we make a joke about it to shirk off our guilt. And it’s really only when the pants get tight or our marriage starts to suffer that we wake up to the fact that something is wrong. PAIN is an indicator light on the dashboard of our lives. Not to say it’s our fault every time we suffer. But if we pursue a path in direct disobedience to God’s will for our lives, He will correct us. The goal is to be ‘Holy as He is holy’. From His perspective, if we want to enter His kingdom, nothing short of that will do.

1 John 3: 4-10

Everyone who makes a practice of sinning also practices lawlessness; sin is lawlessness. You know that he appeared in order to take away sins, and in him there is no sin. No one who abides in him keeps on sinning; no one who keeps on sinning has either seen him or known him. Little children, let no one deceive you. Whoever practices righteousness is righteous, as he is righteous. Whoever makes a practice of sinning is of the devil, for the devil has been sinning from the beginning. The reason the Son of God appeared was to destroy the works of the devil. No one born of God makes a practice of sinning, for God’s seed abides in him; and he cannot keep on sinning, because he has been born of God. By this it is evident who are the children of God, and who are the children of the devil: whoever does not practice righteousness is not of God, nor is the one who does not love his brother.

With all of that in mind, it’s important to draw near to God when affliction or adversity come. We must fast and pray for wisdom on how best to respond. Also, our perspective can be so warped because of our inward focused nature, therefore it behooves us to seek counsel from trusted believers and really listen to what they say, ask them to pray for us, and then personally pray more!

Most importantly, we must ground ourselves in the knowledge that we belong to Christ – and are IN Christ as a new creation. Affliction is NOT punishment. Discipline and punishment are two different things. God disciplines us because he loves us. He corrects us to make us Holy because holiness is the most supreme beauty humankind can experience. Conversely, Jesus took our punishment on the cross. There is no condemnation in Christ Jesus. And while it may FEEL like punishment when God tries to separate us from those things we consider of more value than Him, in reality, it is a severe mercy.

Today, if affliction or suffering finds you filled with doubt, wracked by guilt, and running from God as fast as your feet will carry you: Stop! Consider the words of Jesus:

“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.” John 14:27

Consider the one who sees you as you are and loves you anyway. He loves you so much that he carried and died on a cross to remove punishment far from you.

The prophet Isaiah wrote some of the most comforting words (Isaiah 53). Read them. Meditate on them. Trust Him. And then pull out your bible and read the whole chapter (or the whole book!).

“But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed.”

I am eagerly waiting for the day I will be with God and know God as I am fully known. It makes affliction worthwhile because I know it is only His discipline showing me the way to holiness. Thank you, Father. You are always good.