The Goodness of the Lord

Ever since my sister was in preschool my family has carried on the tradition of starting family meals (those consumed in our house) with a simple song of thanks as an intro into prayer. It goes like this:

"Oh the Lord is good to me, and so I thank the Lord for giving me the things I need like the sun and the rain and the appleseed. The Lord is good to me (and my family)."

This afternoon as we sat down to lunch, it occurred to me the irony in living out something we don't always believe at the time. For instance, I may not believe rejecting sin is in my best interest in the moment. Today it struck me as we sung the words to this little childhood song. 

We can always mindlessly say or do something. I suppose it's the Lord's grace revealed when we see our words are not demonstrating the feeling of our heart. Whether I feel like God is good is not the final say. He is. That's it. Yasta, as we would say in Spanish. 

In conjunction with this I was reminded of a Bible study in Spain where at least twice we set aside a time to read Psalm 136 and reflect. We would read the passage. Then we would recount what God had done in our loves and midst and repeat together, "...for His steadfast love endures forever." 

As I re-read this passage tonight, I saw the rub between what we might see as good with our human eyes and what is actually the goodness of the Lord. But God was in it for His people and for His glory. Needless to say, we do see that the people whom He loved and had chosen were in captivity. Would we be tempted to doubt His goodness in the face of a trial and/or refining such as this? My hand is raised in accord. 

Jesus didn't promise an absence of suffering. In fact, it almost seems that Christians are assured of its presence. As a friend pointed out to me, God notices and cares for even the sparrow...but nevertheless the sparrow still falls. We aren't promised ease, but we are promised comfort, security, joy, love. When we can't see or grab hold of these in the moment, we can hope as we believe in faith.

All this to say, as we were singing earlier, the thought of God's goodness seemed a little hard to believe. In the moment. 

But God's grace is sufficient. He died for us when we did not believe, and He loves to blow our expectations with His goodness and greatness. He graciously shows us our faulty thinking. More often than not it is unexpected and redefines our idea or definition. 

Rest assured in the truth though: He is good. His love endures forever. 

No matter what we are feeling, may His grace allow us to continually offer up genuine thanks. 

First Week Down

After taking off across the world, I wouldn't have known what difficulty awaited in moving back to school. Several months ago as I dreaded the leaving of and going to, I imagined such difficulty. Thankfully then the Lord gave me a little perspective that softened my heart to the idea. I don't remember exactly what I was reading at the time, but I believe it was in Isaiah. He reminded me that Jesus saw the difficulty that was ahead, and He chose to say yes. Sacrifice and surrender aren't easy; often these go against our flesh and require the Holy Spirit's divine softening and some guts. They take dependence. 

I just finished up a hard week that involved grieving, sadness, and tears mixed with joy, laughter, and love. I loved Spain. I had come to feel settled there, and then inevitably it was time to say goodbye. After spending a couple of months back home, it was time for yet more goodbyes. When I left for school last weekend it felt almost like I was grieving two losses: home and Spain. Again. 

All of that considered, combined with feeling out of place and without a community, it made for an emotional roller coaster type of week. I didn't realize how greatly I was blessed with a quick and deep community abroad and adversely how much I miss its absence. 

This is a time for me to decide if I really do believe Jesus - if I believe His love, His goodness, His faithfulness. It's a time to depend in the waiting. It's a time to hold out open hands, letting go and resting in my weakness. I am needy. And Jesus knows it and loves me deeply. He can minister where it's needed. 

Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief. 

Some of the highlights of this week have been reuniting with old friends, growing connections with some new ones, breaking out the Spanish, talking with a dear friend still in Spain, and seeking out whom God is calling me to specifically love this year. Oh, and starting a new job. 

Another aspect of this week was encoutering my flesh. Sin isn't easy to bear with inside of ourselves or in another. Sometimes it seems ironic that what bothers us about others is often something we struggle with ourselves. Pride is an ugly thing, and I don't believe anyone really likes it. I know in my heart it causes a rift between me and God and places an unapproachability around me to others. 

C.S. Lewis said, "A proud man is always looking down on things and people; and, of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something that is above you.” Sadly pride had a place in my heart this week, and unfortunately it too often does. Lewis also speaks about how pride and competition are directly related. For instance, if I wasn't so concerned about looking like I have everything together, maybe I could hear Jesus calling. Maybe I could see with His eyes. Maybe love could win. 

In my pride I can't see Jesus. I would wager to say at the same time I can't see people as Jesus sees them. I need humility so that my nose isn't stuck up in the air, drawing my eyes to the only thing visible: myself. 

I desire to be a real and true person who is changed by Jesus from the inside out. I want to be a lover of God who can't help but share the love that she has been so freely given. May I be found resting in His unconditional fountain of redeeming love so that sin might reign no more in my mortal body.