Late into my teenage years as my walk of faith in God grew, I found conviction in beliefs of my own. I had always "believed" in God, but I was getting to know Him personally and in my relationship with Him I was learning more of who He really is. You see I had come to "believe" that I was a good Christian girl who followed all the rules and did what she was told. But I was finding, that living in someone else's faith is not true faith and not everything I was told was the truth. I had always believed everything my father said was true and the reality that it wasn't was crushing. But the real reality is that not everything that everyone says is true! Even the best teachers can only teach what they know and believe to be true, I believe God challenges us to seek the truth for ourselves and not accept it on faith from other human beings.
One such conviction, was that of the fourth commandment. Quite cocky, I decided to memorize the ten commandments, feeling confident that I had never broken one, nor would I. Wow, how naive was I? Anyway, the fourth commandment kept jumping off the page at me, almost screaming at me until I had to address it. I find it interesting, that I didn't feel shame, but confident that I had to look at this. I believe that is one way to discern a conviction from God. He has never used shame to guilt me, He always gently guides me (well, sometimes He may not be so gentle, but you get the idea).
"Remember the Sabbath day, to keep it holy." What the heck does that mean? How do I "remember" this particular day? And how do you "holy" something? I started by not working on Sundays, 'cause everyone said that was the new Sabbath. But that didn't settle right in my spirit. So I changed it to Saturdays, 'cause that is the seventh day of the week. Still not right. I stopped shopping, changed some other habits for "Sabbath", just not satisfied that I was "getting" it. Through a strange turn of events, I found a small church plant who believed all the basic bible founded Christian beliefs...but they met on Sabbath and taught about the importance of "keeping" the Sabbath. More pieces fell into place as I tried to grasp what God was teaching me with this process.
You know what I came to? That "remembering" and keeping "holy" speak more about my relationship with God than they do with a list of what I will or won't do. What I was missing was so basic, yet so challenging. If God "rested" on the seventh day, than His presence is there, somehow different than the other six days of the week. If His presence is there, than that would make it "holy" (just as the ground around the burning bush was deemed to be holy ground). If I take time to seek His presence on this hallowed day, than I am seeking to remember. I love the Sabbath's that are slow and restful, with simple meals, a meaningful worship service and time for conversations. But most of all, I make time to remember Him, to share with Him, to listen to Him, to share Him with others. I make Sabbath a day for relationships. The laundry can wait. On Sabbath, my relationships with God, family, friends and sometimes the stranger on the street corner are of the utmost importance.
For me, that means there is no list of can and can nots. There is no one I can get special "permission" from to "break" the Sabbath. In fact there are Saturday's that I may work, volunteering to cover so a coworker can attend a family wedding. I may go shopping, buying food for a family in need. I may go out to eat, to minister to my own family or a friend who needs to be heard and prayed for. This conviction requires sharing my heart with God and being ready to follow His lead. I cannot tell you all the amazing, faith-growing adventures I have had on Sabbaths!
This has not been the only conviction, but one that was especially challenging because at that time, none of my family or friends shared it. In fact, most of my family and friends today, still don't share this belief with me. But placing my relationship with God above all others, I believed that what He was teaching me was true and that if I was wrong He would let me know. I believe He will do that for anyone who asks and I still hold Him to it.
What is of particular interest to me about all of this: if I had not confronted this conviction, if I had not changed my beliefs on the matter, if I had not followed this path to a congregation that believed what I did...I would not have met Ben, he would not have married me and our four beautiful children would not exist. Wow! The next time I get that feeling of conviction about something...I may be a little more eager to see where it leads!
*Exodus 20:8
Monday, May 30, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
...and now you know...
A great passion of mine is legacy, what lives on when our bodies die. I have made choices and decisions for my life because of what it will mean for my kids and their kids and theirs. As some of you have read in earlier posts, the legacy that is being left for me is not one I cherish and I desire to change it for the next generation. But first, a little about me...
I was born in the late '70s in southern Oregon, the oldest of three and the only girl. I had what I consider to be a happy childhood in a conservative Christian home. While my father was absent in church and most of my activities, he came home every night, sat in his recliner and watched tv with me (sorry, I am very fond of MacGyver for that reason). He would spend hours on the weekends playing his guitar and singing, esp country songs, and watching football. My memories of my mother back then are of a very strong woman, holding her own and not backing down. She was tough on us kids, but looking back, I think she had to be.
Life was hard, as it is in some way for everyone, but my father's way of "dealing" is to do nothing, thus my mother would step in and make sure we would be ok. She talks now about that time in awe of the many times she is sure God made sure we would be ok, but at that age, my parents were the gods. That is until something began to nag at my young heart...something was not right. I could not have told you at the time what it was, but I sensed something in my father was wrong, my family was in danger, of what I didn't know, and worse I had no idea what to do about it.
Years later I learned my father had been having an affair, interesting that I picked up on that. Hmm, I wonder what else kids can "sense"? My father left, my parents were separated, and suddenly this sweet little Christian girl with the "average" American life was a preteen with a single parent and no real sense of purpose, importance, belonging. We moved to Iowa to be closer to family, which was a blessing...and a curse. I truly love my family, but eating meals with them everyday got to be too much in a hurry. Worse, while my parents really seemed to be trying to keep things pleasant between all parties, their families were not. One side criticizing my mother, the other side bashing my father. And the three of us were left in the middle, not really sure how to make sense of everything.
I thought I knew who I was, where I came from and where I was going...but during this five year stretch, I questioned everything. I suppose most people reach a point as they transition to adulthood where they question, but my home, my life, everything I thought I knew turned upside down at the same time really hit me. My faith, my family, my goals and dreams for life where now unsure.
I come to, what Dr. Phil calls, a defining moment when I had to decide if the God I had believed in was still worthy of my devotion. Could I trust Him? Did I want to? I found Him to be the One person I could count on. He hadn't changed, my family and circumstances had. The one constant was God. And He was the only one that could change the legacy being past down to me...lack of communication, lack of commitment, giving up...He was the only chance I had to break it.
By the time I graduated from high school I had begun to put the pieces back together, but really feel it was just the beginning. But this is enough for today...
I was born in the late '70s in southern Oregon, the oldest of three and the only girl. I had what I consider to be a happy childhood in a conservative Christian home. While my father was absent in church and most of my activities, he came home every night, sat in his recliner and watched tv with me (sorry, I am very fond of MacGyver for that reason). He would spend hours on the weekends playing his guitar and singing, esp country songs, and watching football. My memories of my mother back then are of a very strong woman, holding her own and not backing down. She was tough on us kids, but looking back, I think she had to be.
Life was hard, as it is in some way for everyone, but my father's way of "dealing" is to do nothing, thus my mother would step in and make sure we would be ok. She talks now about that time in awe of the many times she is sure God made sure we would be ok, but at that age, my parents were the gods. That is until something began to nag at my young heart...something was not right. I could not have told you at the time what it was, but I sensed something in my father was wrong, my family was in danger, of what I didn't know, and worse I had no idea what to do about it.
Years later I learned my father had been having an affair, interesting that I picked up on that. Hmm, I wonder what else kids can "sense"? My father left, my parents were separated, and suddenly this sweet little Christian girl with the "average" American life was a preteen with a single parent and no real sense of purpose, importance, belonging. We moved to Iowa to be closer to family, which was a blessing...and a curse. I truly love my family, but eating meals with them everyday got to be too much in a hurry. Worse, while my parents really seemed to be trying to keep things pleasant between all parties, their families were not. One side criticizing my mother, the other side bashing my father. And the three of us were left in the middle, not really sure how to make sense of everything.
I thought I knew who I was, where I came from and where I was going...but during this five year stretch, I questioned everything. I suppose most people reach a point as they transition to adulthood where they question, but my home, my life, everything I thought I knew turned upside down at the same time really hit me. My faith, my family, my goals and dreams for life where now unsure.
I come to, what Dr. Phil calls, a defining moment when I had to decide if the God I had believed in was still worthy of my devotion. Could I trust Him? Did I want to? I found Him to be the One person I could count on. He hadn't changed, my family and circumstances had. The one constant was God. And He was the only one that could change the legacy being past down to me...lack of communication, lack of commitment, giving up...He was the only chance I had to break it.
By the time I graduated from high school I had begun to put the pieces back together, but really feel it was just the beginning. But this is enough for today...
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