Mary's Song

I laid down to sleep tonight, knowing that I needed comforting words or I would not fall asleep. I turned on my favorite hymn, How Deep the Father’s Love for Us, and was surprised by the tears that fell from my eyes. Remorse filled my heart as I dwelt on the meaning that lies within the truth of the lyrics. The realization that time is costly because all of my time has been purchased by God’s grace rang true and left me stunned. I had just waisted the last hour and a half on a movie that sought to tell some far forgotten fairy-tale of a fictional person’s life. But the life of Christ our Savior was real and it was vastly more significant and exhilarating than any story Hollywood can conjure up out of the depths of their minds--which were, in fact, created in the image of God by God himself. 

Over the past few weeks, I have spent time, though not time enough, meditating on the words of Mary’s hymn that is shared with us in Luke 1: 46-55. The wisdom that is exposed here, in this scripture, is profound. Years later, as Mary (or Elizabeth, for it sounds as if they were they only two witnesses to this conversation that Luke is reporting to us) looked back on the time in her life when she was called to suffer as a young, unwed, mother with child, what she remembers of her struggle is not the weight of being outcast by a people, the fear of raising a little boy alone, or even the sweet conversations shared with her cousin as they went through pregnancy together. What Mary tells Luke, and what God determines should be read in our Bible’s today, is that “[God] has looked on the humble estate of his servant;” when he gave her this particular path through suffering. And she continues, “For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name.” Surely she doesn’t mean that the confirmation of God’ promises came the first time she got morning sickness, though that must have been an odd testimony to the truthfulness of the angel’s words. In sickness, in tiredness, in weariness, in hunger, in discomfort, in pain, she receives over and over again the verification that God is at work, literally, within her. Then, to again prove his life to her, the baby not merely kicks against the side of her stomach, he leaps for joy! He is alive, he is real, he is Emmanuel, God with us. As Mary takes on these circumstances to bring Jesus into the world so that he could save us, Mary chooses not to dwell on the pain of it all, nor even the pride that could have been brewed, or the oddities she faced. She reflects and says, that God looked at her humble estate and chose to bless her with the privilege of carrying his Son. "And blessed is she who believe that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord." Mary knew that the fulfillment of the angel's words would not come, merely, in the reality of her pregnancy, but in the life of her son and in the announcement of his identity as savior. She treasured all these things in her heart, pondered them, and waited on the Lord to reveal his plan. 

How often I do not do as Mary did. I do not look at life and wonder in amazement that God has “looked on the humble estate of his servant” and chosen to bless me with opportunities to share his gospel. I can easily see the pain or discomfort, but how often can I see that God allows me to be part of all he does because he has blessed me. Not that God is using me; it’s much easier to believe that God is using me because I’m good at what I do. God does not bless because I deserve to be blessed-- I do not. God blesses “in remembrance of his mercy.” 

Jared and I had a discussion recently about what it looks like to biblically pursue healing from his cancer. Is there a time when enough is enough and you let yourself “go home?” This was a tough question to discuss with a brother who I would do anything to keep here with me; but, I know if the situation were reversed, I’d be thinking about the same thing. The answer sits right here in this text: do not dwell on the suffering, think only on the profundity of gospel wherein pain finds its recourse and divine peace.


Amy Carmichael, who sat on her death bed for dozens of years, once wrote, 

“If I make much of anything appointed, magnify it secretly to myself or insidiously to others; if I let them think it ‘hard,’ if I look back longingly upon what used to be, and linger among the byways of memory, so that my power to help is weakened, then I know nothing of Calvary love.”

What does it look like to take in all my family is facing in light of these wise words? I don’t know the practicalities of that just yet. How do you not make cancer ‘hard?’ How do you not make much of this battle that has been appointed so that making much of Christ and his Calvary love has not been robbed from him? I’ll have to get back to you on how God makes this possible in our lives, for I know we will not pursue it well on our own. 

Thanksgiving Thoughts

I have become frustrated; yes, that’s the best way to begin my thoughts on thankfulness. It is exasperating to continually feel the weightiness of how disinclined I am to pursue life with the joy and thanksgiving I ought.  I just spent the last 48 hours of Thanksgiving preparations and celebrations cooking, baking, talking, laughing, praying, eating, and so much more; but, I look back and see that those hours have ingested a great deal of pain and suffering as well. It is so easy to look at holidays with a foggy notion of perfection and falsified joy-- to believe that if you’re lucky enough to look in on your family and see a scene that belongs in one of those old snow globes, you’ve simply achieved the stamp of approval for holiday perfection. And yet, how often I have overlooked the moments for which I am called to repent, even in the middle of living a “picture-perfect life.” If I think about this day in light of the blessing of eternity a number of formidable things come to mind. 

First, is the daunting thought that while salvation provided by Jesus Christ lasts throughout all eternity, I am by no means prepared for such bliss. I am far too conceded to worship God as his righteousness demands. I am too naive of my own faults to enjoy the grace of God in all its splendor. I would love to leave this world behind, abandon the tension it provides my heart and soul, have silenced the deafening cry of sin and all its implications; but God is gracious as he continues to provide me time to walk beside him and be in awe of his great works here on this earth. May I evermore “...do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with [my] God” (Micah 6:8). 

In direct correspondence with that thought, is the awe-inspiring idea that, not only does God graciously allow us to “work out [our] salvation with fear and trembling” (Philippians 2:12) on this earth, but He has also allowed us to call heaven our home in which we may one day live. We have a home that does not have to forbid acts of folly, it foregoes them all together. We have a home that lacks nothing because it holds within it the God of the universe. We have a home that refuses to possess any haunting hallways, lurking corridors, or rooms filled with sour evocative notions. It indelibly stands as the home where our sin is not known or remembered, but our salvation, our redemption is fully realized. What a blessed thing! And what a wretched thought that I cannot, and often choose not, to dwell on the beauty of this with the intensity and wonderment it demands. 

There is one last and final hope in this train of thought, however, and it lies in this: that though I will never appreciate the costliness of God’s grace as I ought, and even though Jared’s cancer continues to wretch out my soul with all its might as the acuteness of my sin is brought before me, “while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). Christ is the perfect sacrifice by which we are saved. I am commanded to “work out” my salvation-- to live in awe and wonder and in light of the reality of it-- but never to provide such a magnificent thing as it for myself. Christ has accomplished what is not probably for the a sinner such as I. And so I rejoice again with the wise dying words of John Newton (author of the hymn Amazing Grace), “My memory is nearly gone; but I remember two things; That I am a great sinner, and that Christ is a great Savior.”

The First Day of Chemo

Jared has just about completed his first full day of chemo treatment. They started him at 12:20 yesterday afternoon-- a little later than expected, but in God's perfect timing, no doubt. He is doing really well taking in the drugs and bravely facing new pain. I think the most painful part of this process to him thus far has been the beeping noises around the hospital, or at least that's what he has vocalized at this point. 

Last night my family was blessed to actually enjoy our hospital stay a good deal. Meals were provided to all the families on our floor last night, which is an amazing thing to take in! During the dinner hour an old friend of ours, who found himself on this same floor of Children's just 26 months ago with his own son, came to visit. It was incredible to hear the stories of their fight against cancer and all the friendships God was able to build during their time here. It astounds me how God orchestrates our lives. 

We have not been able to keep in touch with the Alfriends since we knew them well about 13 years ago. Now, we have reconnected with them through multiple different things. Jared re-met one of their sons while he was on a tour of Miami just last year, and we heard about Tyler's cancer through the woman with whom I share my classroom. Her daughter, Kylie, who Jared and I have gotten to know through our mutual involvement in Campus Crusade at Miami, had grown up with the Alfriends and was diagnosed with her own cancer the same day as Tyler. The Alfriends and the Bornhorsts battled cancer down the hall from each other just a few years ago. They beat it, and now they are back at Children's, walking alongside us as we face Jared's. What a blessing these friends are to our family!

We were also able to spend some time with some other friends who will be on the same rotation as Jared. Meghan is a 21 year old synchronized  swimmer on the US Olympic team who was given the exact same diagnosis as Jared about three weeks prior to his own. Through mutual friends connecting them, Jared and Meghan were able to meet up before chemo started and discuss their diagnosis and how the Lord is leading them through it. Last night, spending some time with Meghan, her mom, and her friend Michelle, the world seemed to be a bit cheerier and the hospital felt less sterile and more like a second home. 

Every time another visitor, particularly those like Meghan or the Alfriends, Cannones, or others who have been through what he's going through now, come to visit, you can see the relief on Jared's face. He listens to his ipod a lot, taking in words of encouragement through songs, but there is nothing better than the physical representation of God's care for him and support of his needs through the friends that walk through his door. 

We know that the battle is just beginning, but we're ready to "fight to win," as Tyler's slogan says. We don't want to win for ourselves or even Jared's future, but to win for Christ. It is He who gives us the breath to sustain everyday. So, no matter what life brings, we will cry out to Him in pain and sing praises to Him in joy, for He is the giver or all things. 

I have been reflecting recently on journals from past years and found this quotation written in my journal from when I was reading the bookA Path Through Suffering by Elisabeth Elliot my junior year of college:

"A cup brimful of sweetness cannot spill even one drop of bitter water, no matter how suddenly jarred."

The quotation was originally written by Amy Carmichael who was a missionary in the remotest part of India in the early 1900s. She spent the first few years of her ministry there caring for the people of India and sharing the gospel with them. However, the majority of her time there was spent in her small home, writing books and taking in visitor. She was ill and bedridden for years, but she refused to move home to get well. She wanted to stay and serve among the people as she wrote books of her suffering-- and joy in suffering-- that made it home to the comfortable homes of Europe. 

No matter what life throws at us, if we are already filled with the Joy of the Lord, it is impossible to pour out on the world the bitterness and grief that is expected in these circumstances.  

Thank you all for your prayers and encouragement. They are appreciated more than you could possibly imagine! 

Update: At the Hospital for Treatment

Bright and early this morning (at around 5:30) Jared and my mom rose to head over to Children's Hospital to begin Chemo treatments. The day started off slowly and easily-- getting acquainted with the nursing staff and waiting for his turn in the OR. Around 8:30 Jared was taken into surgery to have his Port placed in his chest. The surgery went seamlessly and the recovery was better than expected. When the biopsy was done, the anesthesia drugs took Jared under in more ways than one, so, there was a little bit of a concern that the recovery from this surgery would also be strenuous on Jared's body. It, however, was much easier. He has been keeping food down all day and been a little less groggy than last time. This is encouraging news when considering the side affects chemo often solicits.


The rest of the day was fairly calm. It simply included sleeping off meds and waiting for the treatment process to start. Around 5:30 the rest of the family showed up, bombarding the nurses with our boisterous personalities and "large family" appeal. Everyone had arrived to pray through and wait through the first chemo administration, or so we thought. To our surprise, the lab reports did not come back with enough evidence that Jared's body was truly hydrated and in good enough working order to receive chemo treatments just then. No true complications, just a request for more recovery and monitoring time before the actual "tough stuff" begins. With that, the first chemo drug will be wrapping through Jared's veins at about 8am tomorrow. As it does, we pray that every inch of its fluids attack all that has been battling against the perfect design God created for Jared's body, killing off the old deadly cells.


What a blessing it has been these past weeks to learn from the Lord how He cares for us through everything from the friendships that have kept us going and the prayers that have kept our hearts close to the Lord. We are certain that nothing can separate us from the love of Christ, for He not only suffered to a greater depth spiritually and physically than Jared ever will, but He also died for us. He alone is the reason we are so assured that nothing will come to harm Jared that will not benefit him in the end. And the saving grace of God, through Christ, is what allows Jared the peace to suffer through this trial with the amazing bravery he has exhibited thus far. Let all glory and praise be to Him!


We thank you for your prayers and for the dedication and support you have so freely offered our family. 

Jared's Response to Surgery

Jared is doing very well; he's been cracking jokes all afternoon, so he's pretty much normal. We had quite the experience transporting Jared back and forth from the hospital. We made this video (below) when he had just woken up, for the second time, and was trying to relate to you all what had happened today and how he was feeling. We left the hospital a short while later and headed over to Dr. Mayerson's office to pick up a few documents we need for Jared's appointment at Children's Hospital in the morning. 

When we arrived at the doctor's office, Jared insisted on going up and personally introducing himself to the staff. They're going to be some of his closest companions these next few months, so, he wanted to make sure he made a great first impression. After a few minutes of talking with his nurse, Jared looked at us all, very pale in the face, and said, "I feel dizzy, I need to sit down... I think I might throw up." Within seconds he was projectile vomiting into the trash can the nurse had grabbed from behind the desk. Jared stood up immediately after the scene had passed and informed everyone else in the waiting area that it was ok, he had just had surgery. We then proceeded to a room in which he could lie down for a while and regain strength. Almost right away he started cracking jokes about the situation and listing off all the things he could have done to actually freak the rest of the patients out. Clearly, we're not too worried about him loosing his sense of humor throughout this process. As Jena Long so brilliantly said when I first voiced my concern about Jared loosing his personality: "Something like that is too big to loose." 

PS: if you see someone dressed as a cancer patient running around Miami on Halloween, it's probably Jared. Yes, he's trying to find a way to be in Oxford this weekend, and yes, he does think it would be funny to dress up as a caner patient. And yes, Jared is still Jared...

Biopsy Day

Jared heading into surgery. We'll post updates soon!

The official diagnosis: Stage Two Osteosarcoma

What that means: The cancer has not spread beyond the 5 cm of the femur it has infected. Dr. Mayerson will be setting up an appointment with Dr. Yeager at Children's hospital to begin chemo treatments soon, more than likely next week. This week will be full of fixing things up around the house and mentally preparing for Jared's first round of treatment. We are excited to see what the Lord has determined to do with this. 

"For by grace you have been saved, through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is by the gift of God, not a result of works, that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." -- Ephesians 2:8-10

We have full confidence that God, just as he graciously granted Jared eternal life and faith through Jesus Christ and the strength to continue to grow and mature in his faith in Christ, so He has planned for Jared and our family (along with you all!) to go through this experience. 

Please keep praying. Jared is not yet awake. We will be able to see him around noon or so, when the anesthesia wears off. Check back for updates on how he's doing and what his thoughts are on the diagnosis later today when we've had the opportunity to talk with him.   

How Deep the Father's Love for Us

From last night: didn't post...

Jared goes in for his biopsy tomorrow morning at 8, so my family sat down tonight to talk, worship and pray together. I am always encouraged when I think about the blessing that my family is-- what evidence they are of God’s grace in my life. Even earlier today as I was discussing with the Cannones who of my family has made it in town to visit Jared during these weeks of waiting, it was such an astounding fact to share that at 23 I still have all four of my grandparents. What’s even more incredible is that not only are they all still in good health, but they all know the Lord. With that, tonight as we sat and prepared for Jared’s first invasive, active fight against this cancer, it was an unmerited reward to pray with my siblings, parents, and grandparents for God to continue to be glorified every step of the way, including during the biopsy and its report tomorrow. 

I was also given the opportunity to choose the song we would sing together before heading to bed. My favorite right now is “How Deep the Father’s Love for Us” by Stuart Townend. The doctrine in it is simply beautiful. It capsulates more clearly and concisely than anything else how I feel at this moment. The verse I like best is the last one: 

I will not boast in anything

No gifts, no power, no wisdom

But I will boast in Jesus Christ

His death and resurrection

Why should I gain from His reward

I cannot give an answer

But this I know with all my heart

His wounds have paid my ransom

Friends of mine sang this at their wedding; that was when the lyrics truly hit me in a new way. Marriage is a blessing none of us deserve. Love, family, friendship, companionship, pursuing Christ still more as our sin is revealed and killed through those relationships. These are all gifts that we are blessed to have by God’s grace. Add to that, that the redemptive work of Christ on the Cross makes these relationships better and more useful for the encouragement and continued joy of our souls-- the thought is mesmerizing in its tranquility and awesomeness! 

As I sat with my family singing the conclusion of this song yet again, I was reminded with a new and greater depth just how much I have gained from His reward. We will find out tomorrow how exactly God has chosen to bestow his graces upon us in this circumstance. It could be a miraculous sign of his handiwork, a reminder that he alone is Creator God, who gives and takes away, and in this instances may choose to take away the tumor in Jared’s knee. Or, he could remind Jared and each of us who love him of the great physical suffering Christ stood to bear our sin. He could choose to continue to proclaim his name through Jared’s weakness, for, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9). He could do things with this illness that are “...far more [abundant] than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us,” (Ephesians 3:20). 

Looking toward tomorrow that seems to stand at a great distance from me now, I only know one thing-- not that I will praise the Lord with all my heart at the answer to all our questions, that is a gift of rejecting sin and selfishness that I will pursue only by the power of the Lord and his great grace tomorrow-- that “His wounds have paid my ransom.” 

Psalm 25: A Call to Lay Everything at His Feet

I began my day today, by God’s astounding blessing, with time to myself! In a house filled to the brim with eight people all on various missions to ensure that the place is in the best possible working order, time alone is scarce to be found. So, I did my absolute favorite thing with my free time: I grabbed a cup of coffee, made a yogurt parfait, opened my Bible to Psalms, and began to pray through scripture. I had merely breeched the second verse of Psalm 25 when my mind was sent reeling off in a million different directions. The psalmist begins his prayer like this, 

“To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.

O my God, in you I trust;
let me not be put to shame;
let not my enemies exult over me.”

The first verse was such an encouragement. The night before had passed with frustration and restless sleep. I needed nothing more in the provision of calm the following morning to “life my soul” to the Lord, let him take my burdens. It was the next verse that blew me off course. What does it mean to “not be put to shame?” Who are my enemies and when are they not to “exult over me?” Surely if this prayer was one God sought to answer with a “yes” for his children, Christ would not have been shamed by his own people! Truly, if God did not desire for our enemies to exult over us, the church would not be so readily put to death or persecuted for all of history! What then, or could I, pray along with these words of scripture? Where was my heart to be led?  

As I continued to meditate on this scripture and read through the remainder of the Psalm, I came to the realization that this verse is a cry for the Lord to be who he says he is. Perhaps we will face fleeting moments of shame or defeat, but may it never be that God’s children are shamed at the end of all things, for God is who he says he is! What an attitude to have; what a prayer to put before the Lord. “Father, be who you proclaim yourself to be. I trust enough in who you are to know that if you simply continue to be “the same yesterday, today, and forever,” (Heb 13:8) shame will never come to me, my enemies will never exult over me.” But, part of God being who he says he is, is revealing himself exactly when and how he determines is best for his glory. “O my God, in you I trust,” means that God may choose to allow for suffering, for shame to come for brief moments of our time on earth. Whatever it is that, in the end, leads God and his children to “not be put to shame,” that is what will be accomplished by God’s great sovereign hand. 

It’s interesting, looking at this scripture in light of the possibility of cancer my family is now facing. This week I have found myself pushing the issue aside, not wanting to talk about it again, becoming tired of having the same conversation ten times a day. Today I was reflecting on the natural flow of these conversations that persist into updates about my family and Tom Selleck’s character from Friends came to mind. There’s a scene in one of the first episodes he’s in wherein he explains to Monica and Phoebe how conversations about his divorce were made complete with the head tilt and the head bob. A ridiculous reference, I know, but in truthfulness, that’s often how things seem to proceed. Not that I don’t wish for those conversations. The head tilts and bobs certainly don’t diminish the necessity of those exchanges. Sometimes, though, I want to just wear a sign that says, “you are correct, my life is not perfect nor is it going according to plan” just to save people the trouble of asking. But life’s never going to be perfect for two distinctly different reasons. First, because we live in a fallen world. Cancer will not exist in heaven, where all creation will glorify God without any tarnishing evidence of sin. Second, because I have imperfect expectations of what perfection is. Though I might demand that things work out “perfectly” for me, I have no idea what that really means because I cannot in any way comprehend what perfection looks like. Instead my prayer should be,  

“To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul.

O my God, in you I trust;
let me not be put to shame;
let not my enemies exult over me.”

My response should be one that echos the words of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego when they are facing prospect of being thrown into the fiery furnace. They make it known that God can save them, but he may choose not to. 

“But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up" (Daniel  3:18)

This is my prayer, that I may continually grow in having this attitude. “O my God, in you I trust.” You may determine life and death for me, for you created them both, and over them you have power and dominion. May I lift up my soul, my life, my future, my brother, everything I naturally hold dear. He alone has the correct formula for perfection. 

Cancer Breeds Sanctification Faster and Better Than it does Bad Tissue

I created this blog when I was under the impression that substitute teaching would allow me a good deal of free time. As always, my life does not allow for anything but limited free time, no matter what my occupation. With that, this blog fell to the wayside. In recent days, however, I have realized that there may be a need for such a writing outlet in my life again. Hopefully the following paragraph will catch you up on the rational behind this notion (if you have not already read my brother’s blog at http://sylvesjf.wordpress.com/) 

Just last week Jared, my 21 year old brother, came home from Miami of Ohio, where he is a junior, to have an MRI on what we presumed to be a meniscus tear. On friday evening Jared’s doctor, Mike Cannone (also a good family friend of ours) called and asked for my parents, my brother and me to come over and discuss the results of his MRI. This seemed very odd considering that Jared had an appointment with him in the morning. 

Upon arriving at the Cannone’s house we were, as gently as possible,  informed that there was a large growth in Jared’s left knee. What Dr. Cannone and the radiologist both believe that mass to be is something called Osteosarcoma, a type of bone caner. We have spent the week since that time taking Jared to various other doctor’s appointments and scans that have only continued to confirm the original report Dr. Cannone gave. We are still awaiting the final diagnosis from the biopsy report to be taken next week, but the idea of cancer readily looms in the area around us, affecting our thoughts and conversations at every turn. 

While it has been truly amazing to witness the many different arrays of life to which the potential of cancer has spread, as well as the various responses it has breed, the most earth-shattering thing I have discovered through this news is how much of a person can be uncovered upon its arrival. It is true, you are able to see how people respond to suffering, how they share their story, how people overcome cancer or let it overrun them. More than that, though, the drastic shifts in life that come from such events bring to light, more than anything else I have thus far met, the depth of human depravity and the hope of redemption through Jesus Christ. Even within the first few moments of hearing the news, my beliefs about God were brought to the surface. 

The first thought that ran through my mind was, “God this isn’t what I asked for when I prayed for trials.” Even just the week prior to Jared’s diagnosis I was sitting with my friends Meaghan and Hannah discussing how much I despised the reality of circumstantial peace in my life; I was, at that point, begging God to provide opportunities in which I might experience a “peace that passes understanding” (Phil 4:7). I tried my hardest as I sat on the Cannone’s family room coach to explain to God that he had responded to my prayer’s wrongly: If anyone was getting sick it was to be me, not my family members. How could my walk with the Lord be tested in radical ways, how was I to be empowered to kill sin all the more when it was my brother, not me, who was facing excruciating suffering? That thought that we all experience at one point or another in our lives of, “Lord, take me instead,” was what ended my argument with the Lord. I instantly knew as I let the fleeting words pass through my mind that God had done the right thing. If I had been sick, it would not have challenged me to the extent that watching and caring for a sick brother will. My diagnosis would have been an usher call toward martyrdom. I would have seen the worst coming, embraced with all I had, and died nobly. I would have soaked up the glory of it all, been affirmed in my belief of my own perfection, and moved into heaven expecting shouts of jubilation and a beautifully restored body. What a shock it would have been to find the Lord looking at me with weepy eyes, wishing that I would have left my pride behind. Thanks to God’s amazing grace, I have not been permitted the opportunity to sin in that way. He has instead given me the occasion to walk through a circumstance of suffering that is far greater than I could have ever imagined. My brother’s pain over which I have no control will be far greater than withstanding a physical pain of my own that I may choose to hide from those I love. Taking care of a young man whom I love, who has the opportunity to hide his pain from me is an even graver thought. Standing in the shadow of the limelight, watching from a distance as he learn to suffer well is more humbling than I could have possibly imagined. Supporting him every step of the way, leaning on his understanding of the things to which God has called him for direction in his life when all I want to do is to shelter him from illness, that pulls to a halt my control, my belief that I know anything about how the world operates best. When I prayed that I might be able to walk through life embracing opportunities to “put to death the deeds of the body” (Rom 8:13) so that I might ultimately experience the peace of Christ, I did not have a circumstance like this in mind by the farthest stretch of the imagination. But God, in all of his sovereign and unmistakable majesty chose to bestow upon my brother, my family and me this gift of cancer. He has graciously plotted out for each of us a plan by which we may be sanctified, changed to his likeness so as to honor and glorify him more and more each day. For, why was the blind man born blind?  "It was not that this man sinned, or his parents, but that the works of God might be displayed in him” (John 9: 3). And so, this is my prayer, that I may say with the blind man, “...one thing I know, that though I was blind, now I see” (John 9: 25). Not that I would claim to be the best, not that my pride would soak into my heart so much as to make my sin appear nobel in its nature, but that I, who was once blind to my immense need for a savior, would now see him work in my life in all his amazing glory, that I might recognize his control over this circumstance to which he brings astounding peace, and that by the fact that though I was born blind-- not knowing Christ-- now I see the vastness of his perfection and grace. 

Evening (of Morning and Evening): "I will accept you with your sweet savior." Ezekiel 20:41

I spent this past week on the beach with my family. Upon returning, I went through my usual ritual of watching a movie I’ve seen a thousand times as I unpacked, so as to make the process a little less painful while still retaining my focus on the task at hand. I popped in Sense and Sensibility and watched as scenes to come in my life unfolded. The differences between the two leading characters, Eleanor and Maryann, suddenly reminded me a good deal of a conversation my mother and I had had earlier in the week about my sister and myself. The difficulty we were discussing was the fact that I am driven by facts and regulations and my world is sorted out in this exact way. Grace is given as fact; it is written in scripture and sensed in my daily life and relationship with the Lord. That it exists is beyond question and that it penetrates my heart is pure fact, thus all that I must know of grace is entirely dependable and available to aid me in any moment of weakness or attack because it is easily accessible in the ‘fact’ file of my brain. I am the ‘sensibility’ in this scenario. My sister on the other hand is the ‘sense’ side of the equation. She is capable of feeling every word or exchange, every action, and every reaction at the center of her soul. These experiences define her understanding and thus, grace may at times be an abstract notion that cannot be counted upon. The experience she is muddling through or the prior occasion her heart has rested itself upon to call up information in passing through the current situation has robbed her of whatever the true definition of God’s grace may be.

            From this preexisting notion came the discussion my mother and I had during one of our walks along the beach. I confessed that I, for lack of a better word, have a prejudice against my sister’s way of examining the world. I cannot understand it; therefore, I despise it. From my sinful and limited perspective, why would a child of God spend so much energy calling up emotions as they face any new journey? Why must one become sensitive to his or her own acceptance before God or humanity with every trial that is faced? Why must one be so involved, so central to the understanding and accepting of truth? And thus, my mind spirals into a number of different ways of looking at ministry in light of the way I see this pattern of thought, all of which leave me feeling defeated because I have misunderstood God’s provision that comes through the complexity of his own creation. I see a ministry that errors on the side of expressing too readily that “you are accepted” and “you are beautiful” and all sorts of other wonderful expressions any woman would love to hear. When I would too quickly fire back, “No, you are not acceptable. Christ alone is acceptable. You are not beautiful, Christ alone is the definition of beauty and perfection.” But in truth, God would look down upon his lowly and sinful creation to tell us that neither perspective is right.

            Focusing on 1 Corinthians 2:6-16 tonight at church brought to light a number of things I have misunderstood about ministry. In the process of putting to shame those who believe themselves to have wisdom, two verses I had not spent much time dwelling on before came to the forefront of my mind. Verse 11 states, “For who knows a person’s thoughts except the spirit of that person, which is in him?” and verse 13 says, “And we impart this in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual truths to those who are spiritual.”

           
             From verse 11, what rang clear in my heart was the fact that, though some knowledge might come over time or with experience, I can never know the depths of a person’s soul as the Spirit does. Though I speak to my friends as someone who knows them well, I do not know them as I should to actually give proper or infallible wisdom. How often do we sit down with friends to give advice with the expectation that they will take it? Far too many times I go to my friends for advice and become frustrated because they either cannot comprehend my circumstances, see my heart and examine it for sin as I wish, or their advice fails me. How humbling it is to remember the truth that it is God’s role to know our thoughts. When, by God’s grace, Paul tells us that we have been granted the position of “interpreting spiritual truths to those who are spiritual,” but that is all. We are never wise. Through God’s Gospel of Peace, we are granted a limited gaze into his wisdom and are called to express that.

            Here again is an instance when you cannot look at someone who is spiritual (as Paul calls us) and say, “You are wise”. But, neither can you say to someone who is spiritual, “You lack wisdom” because that person now has Christ and does not lack wisdom; they only lack wisdom apart from Christ. Spurgeon presented me with the words to express the actual answer to this dilemma. He states, “What a cleansing power in His blood to take away sin such as ours! And what glory in His righteousness to make such unacceptable creatures to be accepted in the Beloved! Mark, believer, how sure it is in Him! Take care that you never doubt your acceptance in Jesus. You cannot be accepted without Christ; but, when you have received His merit, you cannot be unaccepted. Notwithstanding all your doubts, and fears, and sins, Jehovah’s gracious eye never looks upon you in anger; though He sees sin in you, in yourself, yet when He looks at you through Christ, He sees no sin. You are always accepted in Christ, are always blessed and dear to the Father’s heart.” In essence, it is the proud heart that looks upon any circumstance and believes themselves to be acceptable, beautiful, wise, or the like. But it is also the proud heart that paints the lowly picture of doubt in the Lord’s promise that you are made acceptable, beautiful, wise, etc. by his own handiwork. This heart equally deprives God the power and glory brought on by the work of the Cross of Calvary. And so, we must, all of us, Eleanor and Maryann alike, say, “The Gospel of Jesus Christ has made me always and forever more acceptable before God.  In light of this everlasting truth, I will work out the sin in my heart, because I know that no matter what dark and disgusting things linger inside my heart, I may never loose my acceptance before the King because my acceptance is not found in me.” And thus, beautiful, wonderful humility comes sweeping into my veins again when I stand in awe of the Cross of Christ as I always should. 

An Introduction of Sorts

I sat down to write today not because I had something of great significance weighing heavily on my heart that I knew needed to be put to paper, but because I did not. My hope was that writing would refresh my soul and grant me the opportunity to “lift up my eyes to the hills…” (Psalm 121:1) so that I might see the Lord, my Help. There will always be days on this earth that we feel distant and distraught. For me, today was one of those days. In some ways it served its purpose: it was a reminder that this is not my home and I am uncomfortable living in this fallen place, being my fallen self. On the other hand, I felt fooled and mistreated, “in the depths of despair” (L.M. Montgomery). Why this mix of emotions? Because the world (and by this I mean all types of worldly culture, from Hollywood to church culture, that do not depict the true essence of the gospel) feeds us myriads of lies concerning how our well being is to be assessed. My life currently sits in transition. I just graduated from college a few weeks ago as an Education major. However, it is February, so jobs are scarce to be found. This leaves me with a make-shift “apartment” in my parents’ basement, working for Starbucks about 20 hours a week and praying frantically for substitute teaching jobs to come before my student loan bills. 

Most people, like me, look around at their circumstances and always find themselves in some unwanted transition. Let’s be honest, our lives are always in transition. Whether we’re transitioning from school to the work force, singleness to marriage, one to two children, marriage to divorce, employed to unemployed, life to death; no matter what, something in our life is changing. Sometimes we want the transition. Other times we despise it. Either way, we continually find ourselves questioning its existence, going to whatever Christian resources we can dig up again to guide us through the transition, and often come out lost at worst and bandaged up at best, but never free of our pride or our fears.

  The question I’m presenting is, in essence, why is it that ministries, materials, and those things given to minister to us in order to help women become daughters of God who live out the gospel and preach it in every way tend to proceed in one of two relatively unhelpful directions: (1) They romanticize life and faith, brew in us an assurance that our own acceptance is the entire purpose of the gospel, and puff-up our expectations and our pride. (2) They build our strength and independence, tell us to never look for marriage but marry ourselves to Jesus and walk the Christian walk alone, without emotions or femininity because those things are perceived to no longer be culturally relevant but are shameful, and all together wrong. If we choose to indoctrinate ourselves with either of these theologies (yes, it is a theology, because our opinion of God becomes wrapped up in that reality) we quickly become women who misunderstand themselves, their God, their passions, and their purpose.

Often, I have laid witness to the fact that these aforementioned theologies can lead women to the understanding that we possess an innate desire to be beautiful, but never is it mentioned how this may become a reality and why the desire exists. We may come to the understanding that we do not desire to be left to the mercies of men and so we pursue strength and independence but know not to what destruction that path will lead. In the end, we become lonely, stubborn women (married and unmarried alike), pursing beauty and passion with little direction, much fear, and only the assurance that at one point or another we were told God accepted us for no particular reason at all.

The problem here is that our foundations are rotten to the core. Paul tells us that, “No one can lay a foundation other than that which is laid, which is Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 3:11). Our foundation is not our acceptance, nor our beauty, independence, freedom, or any other quality we perceive to be godly, but it is ‘…to know nothing among you expect Jesus Christ and him crucified” (1 Corinthians 2:2).

The following posts will contain musings on subjects and theological opinions that have changed my life and my heart. I am reflecting on them now in hopes that the process will once again awaken our hearts to a love of seeing our God glorified.