Fighting for Thankfulness
This month there seemed to be a bit of a shift in my spiritual season. How appropriate as we transition (at least in the US and in my mindset anyway) from autumn to winter. The shift was outward in the form of many long-awaited breakthroughs finally coming to fruition, but those external changes came about primarily, I think, because of internal choices. And, as He always does, God continually pursuing my heart caused those choices to emerge.
I would say that the majority of missionaries have some form of loss as an ever-present character within their stories. We run after adventure and new lands, but in order to do that, there are always things that we leave behind. Our very existence ends up being one of constant bitter-sweetness, of extraordinary experiences with some marvelous mountaintop moments but also some devastating disappointments and hard goodbyes. After being much more present in the missionary community the past couple of years, I know that there is nothing unique about the losses I process. Everyone has family somewhere else. Everyone had a life that could have been something else that may have afforded more personal comforts. Everyone, missionary or not, knows the sting of the loss of a loved one. It's what we do with those losses, however, that will determine the kind of person we will be.
In the last two years, Raúl and I both had beloved family members who struggled with long-term illness, and we both felt the weight of someone's earthly body wasting away a little at a time. Raúl's aunt died of sepsis and pneumonia following a long battle with many digestive issues, including stomach cancer. She was far too young, and her death was not expected. My grandfather died after battling lung cancer, and his death, while still a heavy loss, wasn't as much of a shock. Raúl and I have talked a lot lately about how we've processed those losses and how they've affected our relationship with God. We both had the faith that God could heal our loved ones. We both prayed for our loved ones. And, Raúl was very determined that God would heal his aunt to full health. My prayers for my grandfather in the midst of his own longings to be done with the suffering and to be with Jesus was simply to tell God who I knew Him to be. "God, I know you are the Healer, whether you heal my grandfather physically on this earth or heal my heart emotionally after his passing, either way, you will demonstrate yourself as the Healer. You know my heart and that I don't want to lose my grandfather, but You also see all of eternity. You have the last word."
Much of the differences in our processes between Raúl and me has been because of differences in theological upbringing. I think I shattered Raúl's brain when I told him that when I'm angry at God, I tell Him. When I have questions, I ask them because I believe He's big enough to handle them. He knows my ignorance and frailty as a human. I'd love to say that those questions are always made in humility and with no accusations, but that simply isn't true. But, I do all of those things because God is my Friend, and because I believe deeply in authenticity in relationships. I've had to learn a lot in the last several years about being truly authentic and saying the hard truths even when I know that another human may reject me as a result. That's why it's so special to have the safety with God that I can say what I need to say, I can get it out of my system honestly, and still give Him the last word, maintaining, even when I don't feel it, that He is good. I know that He won't reject me in my weakness. My husband, who was initially raised Catholic, struggles with feeling like it's wrong to question God. The idea of bringing feelings before anyone much less the All-Knowing is icky to Raúl though it's something that I can see him cautiously tip-toeing into. The questions and emotions may still be there, but he and many others weren't taught that prayer can be a two-sided conversation. Within the theology of his upbringing, petitions are okay, questions are bad, and silence for letting God actually respond is unheard of. I won't say that's the case with all Hondurans, and I'd like to avoid any blanket statements about that because there are Christians of all flavors here. But, within our home, the ways that we've carried our grief have differed greatly.
I bring up those losses because my ladies' Bible study just wrapped up Bill Johnson's study called God Is Good, and the study was so timely for me. It wasn't what you'd say in Christianese a "heavy revvy" (aka revelation), but it was like being handed a very solid walking stick when I was limping along on my journey. And, it was a catalyst in sparking some improved attitudes when a sense of entitlement and angst was starting to surface all too often in the midst of inconveniences. I find honestly that I don't grapple too much with the death of my grandfather. I miss him greatly and think of him often. But, I am someone who foresees things, who God lovingly prepares, and who grieves even before something hard happens. And, God was so faithful in walking with me through that process that I don't feel angry over it or like I am left with questions. My thoughts of my grandfather are sometimes about what's he is missing here on earth, but they are even more so focused on all of the wonders of what he could be doing in heaven.
With that said, what is much more likely to de-rail me, I'm embarrassed to admit, are the building little losses, little disappointments, and jadedness that creeps into my heart and expectations. For most of the last two years, it seemed like I wasn't catching much of a breather in constant hits like that. And they did wear on me. So my questions this year were pretty petty but also valid within relationship because they maintained communication. "God, why is our vehicle still breaking down?" "God, why can't my immune system catch a break?" (It completely did, guys--after I posted asking for prayers that God would strengthen my immune system, I have been delightfully healthy.) "God, when is _________ going to change?" "Why do we keep having disappointments in ministry?" "When will I find my people?" "Why are we having so many obstacles with this immigration process?" God, in the midst, of my frustration, was gracious, but He was also silent, which was hard for me. At the end of the day, I think it boiled down to something Bill Johnson said in the study. I'll paraphrase:
When we lose something dear to us, what is hurt is our heart--not our brain. When we wrestle with questions and wanting logical answers as to why something bad happened, we are seeking a solution that won't actually make us feel any better. It's not bad to have questions, but it's much more productive to seek God's presence to heal our heart rather than to seek His answers that we probably won't be able to understand anyway.
That lesson came at the very end of the study, but it's one I started putting into practice before I heard that statement. I realized somewhere in the midst of so many little things going wrong and heightened stress that if I was expecting answers and immediate changes in my circumstances and had determined that that was the only thing that was going to satisfy me, I had turned into a spoiled brat. Even if God would have given me what I was demanding when I was demanding it, my attitude was so poor that I would've responded with an entitled, "Well, it was about time," rather than a humble realization of God's great faithfulness and my ongoing need of His presence and character refinement in my life. So, I went back the basics. I started setting aside time to spend with the Person of God to remember who He is rather than focusing on my outward circumstances and talking to Him like an automated vending machine of blessings and breakthroughs. I started sitting with Him, still sometimes voicing frustrations but determined to not let our meetings only consist of that. I decided to interact with Him fully believing in His goodness even as my flesh was offended by all that it seemed I was up against. And, it sitting with the mysteries and the questions in His presence, I also received His love, which has a magnitude capable of enveloping all else.
In the mean time, He showed me that I had been neglecting one of the greatest tools I had at my disposal--my authority as His child. When we make God our enemy and blame Him for things that are really due to human fault or Satan's resistance, we cut off the very weapon He placed in our hands to fight for what He's already provided. That weapon is our identity in Him as His beloved children and it's our conviction that He is good and is moving on our behalf. When we make God the culprit, we forfeit our power in the fight, and we enable Satan to move ever more stealthily in destruction because we forget that he's there. If we can get caught in the web of blaming God, we won't stand firm in fighting the enemy because fighting always requires recognizing that God is on our side. Making God the bad guy also cuts us off from allowing ourselves to receive His love and forms a protective barrier of defense around our hearts. Thus, in some of the battles I was fighting, I began to take authority over the situation, calling things as they were before they were. But, in other battles, my weapon was really just to rest and remember that God is good and more concerned in working things out for my good than I give Him credit for. Worry feels productive especially for me as an Enneagram 6 (look it up if you feel like I'm nuts or have no idea what I'm talking about) and analytical thinker, but it's just putting faith in negativity. It's not wrong to be prepared. But I am so guilty all too often of imagining the absolute worst is going to happen. Sometimes it does, (and there is a danger in getting a sadistic validation from being right that something was going to go wrong) but even when it does, if I'm built on a firm foundation of faith in God's goodness, it doesn't have to shake me.
The other tool that was highlighted for me came also at the very end of the Bible study. I'll paraphrase again:
Allow yourself time to grieve. But after mourning, ask God for vindication. Vindication is not against a person who has harmed you. We don't battle flesh and blood. Vindication, redemption, is against the evil forces that were at work that steal, kill, and destroy. And remember that whatever the enemy steals, God always restores in a double portion whatever you lost. Vindication isn't about being angry; it's actually a confidence about what God can do in spite of circumstances or to restore those circumstances.
This tool, I believe, is an extension of the authority that we have. It's laying claim to something already promised to us. But, I do believe that there are times when God wants us to ask, to remember the access we have to Heavenly storehouses.
At the heart of this season was a need for recovering my thankfulness. A lot of people use making a list of things to be thankful for as a tool for maintaining that mindful attitude of gratitude. If that works for you, I give credit to you. But, if I'm honest, that did not work for me. I am a constant list-maker by nature, so while I enjoyed making lists like that, it was too cerebral. It goes back to that concept that the problem isn't within the brain; it's within the soul. Or at least it was for me. I could tell you all the reasons why I should be thankful. I could logically recognize that I needed to be thankful, but that really didn't change the feelings contributing to my attitude formation. Taking that kind of life inventory was effective only very temporarily because it felt superficial. I shouldn't need tangible things I can list that God has done to be thankful. I should be thankful just for who He is. But I wasn't feeling thankful at all. So making a list felt like something I could check off of another list (ha!) and be able to say, "See, God, I thought about why I should be thankful, so thanks" while my heart was still churning negativity below the surface. Taking an inventory of my life also drove me to analyze my present circumstance (again) which was the focus that was causing harm in the first place.
So, I started taking the time to remember who God is. I looked back over my life and my history with God and began to extract memories that demonstrated the characteristics of God's heart towards me and His overall demeanor toward me as His child. I put my eyes on His kindness through my own testimony. And I sought out the testimonies of others when my own started to feel frail or like I couldn't trust it. And, I invited God to enter into my present circumstances to start forming new testimonies. It was much less of a "Oh yeah that one time God did that one thing. Hooray," and much more of a "That one time God did that one thing, and at that time, I realized that God is like this and feels like this towards me, and it made me feel this positive emotion." It felt like and continues to feel like a brain re-routing. Emotions even scientifically are so powerful in solidifying our memories and our beliefs about ourselves, God, and others--that's why they should be the same kind of tool that we use in combating the lies that have been placed in negative, painful memories. At any rate, the weight of stormy clouds has been lifting--not overnight but little by little--and when we did receive some great, amazing, God-given breakthroughs, the posture of my heart was in the appropriate place to receive them with true thanksgiving.
If you made it this far in reading, I'll go ahead and let you in on our newest breakthrough which is that God gave us such divine favor in Raúl's visa interview. It was the quickest and most painless process I ever could have asked for. We were both so nervous the night before that we ended up bickering instead of mutually supporting each other in the stress. (I'm not an award-winning wife a lot of the time, but I'm learning.) But, the morning of, even in the midst of forgetting my passport and not knowing if they'd let me into the embassy, we just encountered unending grace. And, they gave him the immigrant visa! So, while we aren't planning on going until next year, we feel so overwhelmed with God's faithfulness after more than a year of this whole process (and just about every setback you can imagine). There will be more news to share about that visit on down the line. But, for now, thank you for all of your prayers! We went knowing we were so lovingly backed by intercession, and we felt its impact.
If you find yourself in this holiday season, so stressed that you're not enjoying anything, if you find yourself carrying a weight of grief so heavy you feel like there is someone with their hands strangling your neck, if you find yourself seething in anger over things that you know shouldn't be an issue, or if you find yourself seeking out anything to numb you to your present feelings and circumstances, I encourage you that fighting for your relationship with God is worth it. Fighting to preserve that conversation with God and the deep conviction that He is good is worth walking through the valley of darkness instead of trying to religiously will yourself to feel happy when you don't. Pushing back at the encroaching accusations you may feel toward God is better than sinking into a place of isolation from God's love even though it's hard. Facing your feelings and your needs head-on and entering into God's presence with all of your angry questions is better than numbing yourself with television and internet and busyness or simply sweeping your hurt under the rug with an excuse. God is big enough for this. Real relationship often starts here. And, if your process requires some angry fist shaking at the sky or letting your anger spill out of your mouth and trickle down your face from your eyes, I won't judge because you're being brave in engaging. Like a child throwing a tantrum, at the end of the day, you're still asking God for His attention, and He is ever so eager to give it to you. And if you need another nudge with some amazing imagery and heart-breaking sincerity, please read Christa Black Gifford's testimony in these two blogs. I saw her share her experiences in a WorshipU video and cried my way through it. I don't think I've ever heard a better representation of where Jesus is when we are in pain. Here are those links: https://christablackgifford.com/3124-2/ (this is part 1) and https://christablackgifford.com/my-diamond-cave/ (this is part 2)
I would say that the majority of missionaries have some form of loss as an ever-present character within their stories. We run after adventure and new lands, but in order to do that, there are always things that we leave behind. Our very existence ends up being one of constant bitter-sweetness, of extraordinary experiences with some marvelous mountaintop moments but also some devastating disappointments and hard goodbyes. After being much more present in the missionary community the past couple of years, I know that there is nothing unique about the losses I process. Everyone has family somewhere else. Everyone had a life that could have been something else that may have afforded more personal comforts. Everyone, missionary or not, knows the sting of the loss of a loved one. It's what we do with those losses, however, that will determine the kind of person we will be.
In the last two years, Raúl and I both had beloved family members who struggled with long-term illness, and we both felt the weight of someone's earthly body wasting away a little at a time. Raúl's aunt died of sepsis and pneumonia following a long battle with many digestive issues, including stomach cancer. She was far too young, and her death was not expected. My grandfather died after battling lung cancer, and his death, while still a heavy loss, wasn't as much of a shock. Raúl and I have talked a lot lately about how we've processed those losses and how they've affected our relationship with God. We both had the faith that God could heal our loved ones. We both prayed for our loved ones. And, Raúl was very determined that God would heal his aunt to full health. My prayers for my grandfather in the midst of his own longings to be done with the suffering and to be with Jesus was simply to tell God who I knew Him to be. "God, I know you are the Healer, whether you heal my grandfather physically on this earth or heal my heart emotionally after his passing, either way, you will demonstrate yourself as the Healer. You know my heart and that I don't want to lose my grandfather, but You also see all of eternity. You have the last word."
Much of the differences in our processes between Raúl and me has been because of differences in theological upbringing. I think I shattered Raúl's brain when I told him that when I'm angry at God, I tell Him. When I have questions, I ask them because I believe He's big enough to handle them. He knows my ignorance and frailty as a human. I'd love to say that those questions are always made in humility and with no accusations, but that simply isn't true. But, I do all of those things because God is my Friend, and because I believe deeply in authenticity in relationships. I've had to learn a lot in the last several years about being truly authentic and saying the hard truths even when I know that another human may reject me as a result. That's why it's so special to have the safety with God that I can say what I need to say, I can get it out of my system honestly, and still give Him the last word, maintaining, even when I don't feel it, that He is good. I know that He won't reject me in my weakness. My husband, who was initially raised Catholic, struggles with feeling like it's wrong to question God. The idea of bringing feelings before anyone much less the All-Knowing is icky to Raúl though it's something that I can see him cautiously tip-toeing into. The questions and emotions may still be there, but he and many others weren't taught that prayer can be a two-sided conversation. Within the theology of his upbringing, petitions are okay, questions are bad, and silence for letting God actually respond is unheard of. I won't say that's the case with all Hondurans, and I'd like to avoid any blanket statements about that because there are Christians of all flavors here. But, within our home, the ways that we've carried our grief have differed greatly.
I bring up those losses because my ladies' Bible study just wrapped up Bill Johnson's study called God Is Good, and the study was so timely for me. It wasn't what you'd say in Christianese a "heavy revvy" (aka revelation), but it was like being handed a very solid walking stick when I was limping along on my journey. And, it was a catalyst in sparking some improved attitudes when a sense of entitlement and angst was starting to surface all too often in the midst of inconveniences. I find honestly that I don't grapple too much with the death of my grandfather. I miss him greatly and think of him often. But, I am someone who foresees things, who God lovingly prepares, and who grieves even before something hard happens. And, God was so faithful in walking with me through that process that I don't feel angry over it or like I am left with questions. My thoughts of my grandfather are sometimes about what's he is missing here on earth, but they are even more so focused on all of the wonders of what he could be doing in heaven.
With that said, what is much more likely to de-rail me, I'm embarrassed to admit, are the building little losses, little disappointments, and jadedness that creeps into my heart and expectations. For most of the last two years, it seemed like I wasn't catching much of a breather in constant hits like that. And they did wear on me. So my questions this year were pretty petty but also valid within relationship because they maintained communication. "God, why is our vehicle still breaking down?" "God, why can't my immune system catch a break?" (It completely did, guys--after I posted asking for prayers that God would strengthen my immune system, I have been delightfully healthy.) "God, when is _________ going to change?" "Why do we keep having disappointments in ministry?" "When will I find my people?" "Why are we having so many obstacles with this immigration process?" God, in the midst, of my frustration, was gracious, but He was also silent, which was hard for me. At the end of the day, I think it boiled down to something Bill Johnson said in the study. I'll paraphrase:
When we lose something dear to us, what is hurt is our heart--not our brain. When we wrestle with questions and wanting logical answers as to why something bad happened, we are seeking a solution that won't actually make us feel any better. It's not bad to have questions, but it's much more productive to seek God's presence to heal our heart rather than to seek His answers that we probably won't be able to understand anyway.
That lesson came at the very end of the study, but it's one I started putting into practice before I heard that statement. I realized somewhere in the midst of so many little things going wrong and heightened stress that if I was expecting answers and immediate changes in my circumstances and had determined that that was the only thing that was going to satisfy me, I had turned into a spoiled brat. Even if God would have given me what I was demanding when I was demanding it, my attitude was so poor that I would've responded with an entitled, "Well, it was about time," rather than a humble realization of God's great faithfulness and my ongoing need of His presence and character refinement in my life. So, I went back the basics. I started setting aside time to spend with the Person of God to remember who He is rather than focusing on my outward circumstances and talking to Him like an automated vending machine of blessings and breakthroughs. I started sitting with Him, still sometimes voicing frustrations but determined to not let our meetings only consist of that. I decided to interact with Him fully believing in His goodness even as my flesh was offended by all that it seemed I was up against. And, it sitting with the mysteries and the questions in His presence, I also received His love, which has a magnitude capable of enveloping all else.
In the mean time, He showed me that I had been neglecting one of the greatest tools I had at my disposal--my authority as His child. When we make God our enemy and blame Him for things that are really due to human fault or Satan's resistance, we cut off the very weapon He placed in our hands to fight for what He's already provided. That weapon is our identity in Him as His beloved children and it's our conviction that He is good and is moving on our behalf. When we make God the culprit, we forfeit our power in the fight, and we enable Satan to move ever more stealthily in destruction because we forget that he's there. If we can get caught in the web of blaming God, we won't stand firm in fighting the enemy because fighting always requires recognizing that God is on our side. Making God the bad guy also cuts us off from allowing ourselves to receive His love and forms a protective barrier of defense around our hearts. Thus, in some of the battles I was fighting, I began to take authority over the situation, calling things as they were before they were. But, in other battles, my weapon was really just to rest and remember that God is good and more concerned in working things out for my good than I give Him credit for. Worry feels productive especially for me as an Enneagram 6 (look it up if you feel like I'm nuts or have no idea what I'm talking about) and analytical thinker, but it's just putting faith in negativity. It's not wrong to be prepared. But I am so guilty all too often of imagining the absolute worst is going to happen. Sometimes it does, (and there is a danger in getting a sadistic validation from being right that something was going to go wrong) but even when it does, if I'm built on a firm foundation of faith in God's goodness, it doesn't have to shake me.
The other tool that was highlighted for me came also at the very end of the Bible study. I'll paraphrase again:
Allow yourself time to grieve. But after mourning, ask God for vindication. Vindication is not against a person who has harmed you. We don't battle flesh and blood. Vindication, redemption, is against the evil forces that were at work that steal, kill, and destroy. And remember that whatever the enemy steals, God always restores in a double portion whatever you lost. Vindication isn't about being angry; it's actually a confidence about what God can do in spite of circumstances or to restore those circumstances.
This tool, I believe, is an extension of the authority that we have. It's laying claim to something already promised to us. But, I do believe that there are times when God wants us to ask, to remember the access we have to Heavenly storehouses.
At the heart of this season was a need for recovering my thankfulness. A lot of people use making a list of things to be thankful for as a tool for maintaining that mindful attitude of gratitude. If that works for you, I give credit to you. But, if I'm honest, that did not work for me. I am a constant list-maker by nature, so while I enjoyed making lists like that, it was too cerebral. It goes back to that concept that the problem isn't within the brain; it's within the soul. Or at least it was for me. I could tell you all the reasons why I should be thankful. I could logically recognize that I needed to be thankful, but that really didn't change the feelings contributing to my attitude formation. Taking that kind of life inventory was effective only very temporarily because it felt superficial. I shouldn't need tangible things I can list that God has done to be thankful. I should be thankful just for who He is. But I wasn't feeling thankful at all. So making a list felt like something I could check off of another list (ha!) and be able to say, "See, God, I thought about why I should be thankful, so thanks" while my heart was still churning negativity below the surface. Taking an inventory of my life also drove me to analyze my present circumstance (again) which was the focus that was causing harm in the first place.
So, I started taking the time to remember who God is. I looked back over my life and my history with God and began to extract memories that demonstrated the characteristics of God's heart towards me and His overall demeanor toward me as His child. I put my eyes on His kindness through my own testimony. And I sought out the testimonies of others when my own started to feel frail or like I couldn't trust it. And, I invited God to enter into my present circumstances to start forming new testimonies. It was much less of a "Oh yeah that one time God did that one thing. Hooray," and much more of a "That one time God did that one thing, and at that time, I realized that God is like this and feels like this towards me, and it made me feel this positive emotion." It felt like and continues to feel like a brain re-routing. Emotions even scientifically are so powerful in solidifying our memories and our beliefs about ourselves, God, and others--that's why they should be the same kind of tool that we use in combating the lies that have been placed in negative, painful memories. At any rate, the weight of stormy clouds has been lifting--not overnight but little by little--and when we did receive some great, amazing, God-given breakthroughs, the posture of my heart was in the appropriate place to receive them with true thanksgiving.
If you made it this far in reading, I'll go ahead and let you in on our newest breakthrough which is that God gave us such divine favor in Raúl's visa interview. It was the quickest and most painless process I ever could have asked for. We were both so nervous the night before that we ended up bickering instead of mutually supporting each other in the stress. (I'm not an award-winning wife a lot of the time, but I'm learning.) But, the morning of, even in the midst of forgetting my passport and not knowing if they'd let me into the embassy, we just encountered unending grace. And, they gave him the immigrant visa! So, while we aren't planning on going until next year, we feel so overwhelmed with God's faithfulness after more than a year of this whole process (and just about every setback you can imagine). There will be more news to share about that visit on down the line. But, for now, thank you for all of your prayers! We went knowing we were so lovingly backed by intercession, and we felt its impact.
If you find yourself in this holiday season, so stressed that you're not enjoying anything, if you find yourself carrying a weight of grief so heavy you feel like there is someone with their hands strangling your neck, if you find yourself seething in anger over things that you know shouldn't be an issue, or if you find yourself seeking out anything to numb you to your present feelings and circumstances, I encourage you that fighting for your relationship with God is worth it. Fighting to preserve that conversation with God and the deep conviction that He is good is worth walking through the valley of darkness instead of trying to religiously will yourself to feel happy when you don't. Pushing back at the encroaching accusations you may feel toward God is better than sinking into a place of isolation from God's love even though it's hard. Facing your feelings and your needs head-on and entering into God's presence with all of your angry questions is better than numbing yourself with television and internet and busyness or simply sweeping your hurt under the rug with an excuse. God is big enough for this. Real relationship often starts here. And, if your process requires some angry fist shaking at the sky or letting your anger spill out of your mouth and trickle down your face from your eyes, I won't judge because you're being brave in engaging. Like a child throwing a tantrum, at the end of the day, you're still asking God for His attention, and He is ever so eager to give it to you. And if you need another nudge with some amazing imagery and heart-breaking sincerity, please read Christa Black Gifford's testimony in these two blogs. I saw her share her experiences in a WorshipU video and cried my way through it. I don't think I've ever heard a better representation of where Jesus is when we are in pain. Here are those links: https://christablackgifford.com/3124-2/ (this is part 1) and https://christablackgifford.com/my-diamond-cave/ (this is part 2)
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