It's hard for me to think about God being disappointed, but I believe that He is sometimes. Isn't He big enough to do what He wants and to have what He wants? Of course, He's big enough! But He is not a bully, forcing His way through the world and through our lives. He has chosen to limit Himself to the boundaries of our choice. This does not mean that He is ever taken by surprise; He knows who we are and how we will behave! Nevertheless, He persists in extending His love to all. How painful the rejection of us humans must be!
"For this is what the high and lofty One says—he who lives forever, whose name is holy: 'I live in a high and holy place, but also with him who is contrite and lowly in spirit, to revive the spirit of the lowly and to revive the heart of the contrite.' " (Isaiah 57:15 NIV) That is God's desire and plan, to have relationship with us. All went well until Adam and Eve were no longer humble but wanted to be as smart as God. All their descendants, even until the present, have the same inclination.
In Noah's time, the Lord saw the terrible wickedness on the earth and the continually evil thoughts people had. He was grieved that he had placed humans on the earth, and His heart was filled with pain. Through many centuries, He called people to follow Him. In Jeremiah's time, He said through the prophet, “Long ago I broke the yoke that oppressed you and tore away the chains of your slavery, but still you said, ‘I will not serve you.’ On every hill and under every green tree, you have prostituted yourselves by bowing down to idols." (Jeremiah 2:20 NLT)
Jesus came, but "He came into the very world he created, but the world didn’t recognize him. He came to his own people, and even they rejected him." (John 1:10, 11 NLT) To the Ephesian church, John was told to write, “I know all the things you do. I have seen your hard work and your patient endurance. . . You have patiently suffered for me without quitting. But I have this complaint against you. You don’t love me or each other as you did at first! Look how far you have fallen! Turn back to me and do the works you did at first." (Revelation 2:2-5 NLT) The apostle Paul warned, "You, my brothers, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the sinful nature; rather, serve one another in love. The entire law is summed up in a single command: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.' If you keep on biting and devouring each other, watch out or you will be destroyed by each other." (Galatians 5:13, 14 NIV)
No, God does not always get what He wants—not in His ancient people, not in the Church, not in our homes and places of business, not in individual lives.
What can we do so God won't continue to be disappointed?
MaryMartha
Click on the title to read "Failure" or "When Jesus Cried".
Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright©1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved. Scripture quotations marked NLT are taken from The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. United States of America. All rights reserved.
Showing posts with label disappointment. Show all posts
Showing posts with label disappointment. Show all posts
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Failure
To many people, Jesus looked like a failure. He announced the Kingdom of God, but there was no kingdom visible. He drew a following, but eventually they betrayed, denied, or forsook Him. He claimed that He came to give life, but He Himself died. One could certainly think that He was a failure.
I had an angry talk with God about failure one time. I had given my best to a demanding job, and the results met with mixed reactions. Some people thought I was not really qualified, others felt the experience had been worthwhile and they could expect improvement, and still others considered I had done reasonably well. I was not accustomed to even minor failure; I was disappointed and hurt. (I did not understand, at that point in my life, that one could do a failure or make a failure and not be a failure.) "I have done all I could and failed," I whined to God.
"I provided Jesus," He seemed to say. "He experienced human sorrows, your hurt and disappointment."
"That's all well and good," I countered. "But You're God! You don't know how sharp and bitter failure tastes."
"Well, there's Jesus," He said again. "And if He is not enough for your situation, then yes, I have done all I could do—and failed."
MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)
Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com
I had an angry talk with God about failure one time. I had given my best to a demanding job, and the results met with mixed reactions. Some people thought I was not really qualified, others felt the experience had been worthwhile and they could expect improvement, and still others considered I had done reasonably well. I was not accustomed to even minor failure; I was disappointed and hurt. (I did not understand, at that point in my life, that one could do a failure or make a failure and not be a failure.) "I have done all I could and failed," I whined to God.
"I provided Jesus," He seemed to say. "He experienced human sorrows, your hurt and disappointment."
"That's all well and good," I countered. "But You're God! You don't know how sharp and bitter failure tastes."
"Well, there's Jesus," He said again. "And if He is not enough for your situation, then yes, I have done all I could do—and failed."
MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)
Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
The Courage to Grieve
One of my blogging friends wrote something a couple of weeks ago that I have been pondering ever since. She used the words, “the courage to grieve,” and I have not been able to escape their personal implication. I have had some significant losses in my lifetime: a marriage, my parents, a brother, a grandbaby, a husband, some dreams. I think I have grieved appropriately in each case—differently, of course, but even today in ways that are still suited to the loss.
What I have not known until recent months is that there are some “deaths” I have not even recognized, let alone suitably grieved. Doing so takes courage, because I have to admit that parts of me were allowed to “die” when I was very young. That is no one’s fault in particular, certainly not my parents’ since the only way they knew to raise me was the way they had been raised. That was fairly uncomplicated: you fed and clothed the children and kept a roof over their heads, you bandaged them if they were bleeding, you saw to it that they learned to work and to read, and you took them with you to Sunday School and worship.
I am very grateful for all I was given; it is no small thing to have raised a big family during the Depression and war years. Given their economic situation, education, and religious culture, my parents certainly provided us with every advantage they knew how to supply. William Hodding Carter, Jr., a prominent journalist in the twentieth century, said, “There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots; the other, wings.” (Someone has rephrased it a bit to make it memorable as a rhyme: You can give your children but two things, one is roots and the other wings.) My parents gave us impressively strong roots. I felt safe and provided for; we were probably poor, but I didn’t know that! I readily absorbed our cultural and religious values. I learned early to take a lot of responsibility.
While they gave us sturdy roots, they didn’t know anything about giving your children “wings.” I absolutely believe that I was loved, but I never felt that I was valued. I was obedient, smart, and creative, but my mother never said, “I am proud of you.” Photos show a sweet little girl with dark eyes and long curls, but my father never told me, “Honey, you are so pretty.” They did not encourage me to find out how to do what I really love doing. They didn’t help me learn how to make good decisions—and live with the results. They did not give me the freedom to make mistakes or teach me to enjoy my successes.
You must not think this is an indictment against my parents. They did not nurture me well because they did not know how. No one had built self-confidence in them. No one had appreciated and guided them. No one had encouraged them to discover their gifts. No one had helped them find a sense of purpose and a passion for life. I have hesitated a long time to even write these things about them, but I am doing so because there may be some of my readers who will think, “Yes, I know what she’s talking about. I lost something back there too. I am grieving the loss of— “ Maybe innocence. Maybe faith or self-confidence, security or privacy. Maybe enough to eat. Maybe a dozen things. Or only one that really, really matters.
It is not dishonoring to those who brought us up to look honestly at the job they did. Evaluating it does not mean forgetting what we hold precious, but may mean taking a more clear-eyed view. We can be truly thankful (or not) for our heritage, but that does not eliminate the “holes” from those early years—and nearly everybody has them. Few people had a perfect childhood and youth, and so there are many of us who have empty places inside that never were filled up sufficiently. We may try to ignore these places, or scold ourselves for being silly enough to re-visit the distant past. “Those things don’t matter now,” we tell ourselves.
But they do matter. That is one of the reasons why some of us find ourselves so conflicted about who we are presently. We did not know who we were back then. Grieving for something that is missing—either lost or never was—is a way of acknowledging that the long-ago nurture was something valuable and precious to us. That’s why it takes courage to grieve; it says that we are quite vulnerable and not ashamed to admit it. Grieving for these losses in an appropriate way has an amazing power to heal.
So what would be appropriate grieving? Whatever is appropriate for other kinds of losses. Talk to someone. Cry if it makes you feel better. Pound on something (but not people). Keep a journal or write a letter. Read. Rest. Exercise. Sit in the sun. Treat yourself kindly. After awhile my process of grieving has yielded new understanding and new growth toward wholeness. If you need to grieve some early losses, so will yours.
MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)
My thanks to Kimberly George who writes an inter-generational dialogue with another member of the Evangelical and Ecumenical Women’s Caucus, an international organization of women and men who believe that the Bible supports the equality of the sexes. The particular post I refer to is located at: http://eewc.com/72-27/2008/10/15/remembering-grieving-and-the-pursuit-of-wholeness/
Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com
What I have not known until recent months is that there are some “deaths” I have not even recognized, let alone suitably grieved. Doing so takes courage, because I have to admit that parts of me were allowed to “die” when I was very young. That is no one’s fault in particular, certainly not my parents’ since the only way they knew to raise me was the way they had been raised. That was fairly uncomplicated: you fed and clothed the children and kept a roof over their heads, you bandaged them if they were bleeding, you saw to it that they learned to work and to read, and you took them with you to Sunday School and worship.
I am very grateful for all I was given; it is no small thing to have raised a big family during the Depression and war years. Given their economic situation, education, and religious culture, my parents certainly provided us with every advantage they knew how to supply. William Hodding Carter, Jr., a prominent journalist in the twentieth century, said, “There are only two lasting bequests we can hope to give our children. One of these is roots; the other, wings.” (Someone has rephrased it a bit to make it memorable as a rhyme: You can give your children but two things, one is roots and the other wings.) My parents gave us impressively strong roots. I felt safe and provided for; we were probably poor, but I didn’t know that! I readily absorbed our cultural and religious values. I learned early to take a lot of responsibility.
While they gave us sturdy roots, they didn’t know anything about giving your children “wings.” I absolutely believe that I was loved, but I never felt that I was valued. I was obedient, smart, and creative, but my mother never said, “I am proud of you.” Photos show a sweet little girl with dark eyes and long curls, but my father never told me, “Honey, you are so pretty.” They did not encourage me to find out how to do what I really love doing. They didn’t help me learn how to make good decisions—and live with the results. They did not give me the freedom to make mistakes or teach me to enjoy my successes.
You must not think this is an indictment against my parents. They did not nurture me well because they did not know how. No one had built self-confidence in them. No one had appreciated and guided them. No one had encouraged them to discover their gifts. No one had helped them find a sense of purpose and a passion for life. I have hesitated a long time to even write these things about them, but I am doing so because there may be some of my readers who will think, “Yes, I know what she’s talking about. I lost something back there too. I am grieving the loss of— “ Maybe innocence. Maybe faith or self-confidence, security or privacy. Maybe enough to eat. Maybe a dozen things. Or only one that really, really matters.
It is not dishonoring to those who brought us up to look honestly at the job they did. Evaluating it does not mean forgetting what we hold precious, but may mean taking a more clear-eyed view. We can be truly thankful (or not) for our heritage, but that does not eliminate the “holes” from those early years—and nearly everybody has them. Few people had a perfect childhood and youth, and so there are many of us who have empty places inside that never were filled up sufficiently. We may try to ignore these places, or scold ourselves for being silly enough to re-visit the distant past. “Those things don’t matter now,” we tell ourselves.
But they do matter. That is one of the reasons why some of us find ourselves so conflicted about who we are presently. We did not know who we were back then. Grieving for something that is missing—either lost or never was—is a way of acknowledging that the long-ago nurture was something valuable and precious to us. That’s why it takes courage to grieve; it says that we are quite vulnerable and not ashamed to admit it. Grieving for these losses in an appropriate way has an amazing power to heal.
So what would be appropriate grieving? Whatever is appropriate for other kinds of losses. Talk to someone. Cry if it makes you feel better. Pound on something (but not people). Keep a journal or write a letter. Read. Rest. Exercise. Sit in the sun. Treat yourself kindly. After awhile my process of grieving has yielded new understanding and new growth toward wholeness. If you need to grieve some early losses, so will yours.
MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)
My thanks to Kimberly George who writes an inter-generational dialogue with another member of the Evangelical and Ecumenical Women’s Caucus, an international organization of women and men who believe that the Bible supports the equality of the sexes. The particular post I refer to is located at: http://eewc.com/72-27/2008/10/15/remembering-grieving-and-the-pursuit-of-wholeness/
Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com
Saturday, October 25, 2008
"Be Still and Know That I Am God"
I am the God of the storm.
I created thunder and lightning, wind and rain.
My feet are planted on the dark clouds
I created thunder and lightning, wind and rain.
My feet are planted on the dark clouds
that are rolling into your life,
threatening to engulf you.
Even though your grasp slips from the guide wheel
and you find the anchor about to come loose and set you adrift,
I am there, controlling the height of the waves
Even though your grasp slips from the guide wheel
and you find the anchor about to come loose and set you adrift,
I am there, controlling the height of the waves
and the fierceness of the wind.
I will not permit them to dash you upon the rocks.
I am the God of the darkness.
I created night and day; they are alike to Me.
My eyes pierce through the inky blackness
I will not permit them to dash you upon the rocks.
I am the God of the darkness.
I created night and day; they are alike to Me.
My eyes pierce through the inky blackness
that surrounds you so thickly you can feel it press
the very breath from you.
In that darkness, be still—
The heartbeat that you hear is Mine.
I am the God of emptiness.
I created the vast reach of space out beyond
the little planet that is familiar to you,
And I know that it is far from empty.
I inhabit the aching emptiness of your longings,
your unfulfilled dreams,
the rising and falling of your hopes.
Your emptiness is pregnant with what is yet to be,
For I spoke, and out of the emptiness
there came into being all that is.
One day again, I will speak.
—MM
MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)
Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com
In that darkness, be still—
The heartbeat that you hear is Mine.
I am the God of emptiness.
I created the vast reach of space out beyond
the little planet that is familiar to you,
And I know that it is far from empty.
I inhabit the aching emptiness of your longings,
your unfulfilled dreams,
the rising and falling of your hopes.
Your emptiness is pregnant with what is yet to be,
For I spoke, and out of the emptiness
there came into being all that is.
One day again, I will speak.
—MM
MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)
Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com
Monday, September 29, 2008
Not How I Pictured It
I was sharing with a friend my surprise and dismay at a certain unhappy turn of events in my life. “I didn’t know it would be like this,” I told her.
“Have you ever seen ‘Lost in Yonkers’?” she asked. “There is a priceless line in the movie that describes what you are going through.” Since I was unfamiliar with Neil Simon’s play or the movie made from it, she gave me a briefing. The story begins with two young brothers sent to live with their domineering grandmother after their mother’s death, but it soon revolves more around their Aunt Bella. She is a sweet, unsophisticated woman of thirty-five, who will always think like a child but, as she explains, “feel like a woman inside of me.” An avid movie-goer, she yearns to find someone who will return her love. And so she found Johnny, also limited mentally and emotionally, who is an usher at the theater
One scene depicts a family meeting, nervously convened by Bella, to announce her plan to marry Johnny, open a restaurant with him, and have her own babies. As she herds mother, sister, and nephews into the places she has “assigned” them, her brother Louie is a holdout. He wants to stand—actually, what he really wants to do is to leave. Bella tells him, “But it would be much better if you were sitting, Louie. I pictured everybody sitting.” And later, when Louie raises objections during “the family talk” that Bella is conducting, she cries out in exasperation, “That’s not how I pictured it.”
Isn’t that like life? So often we imagine just exactly how circumstances are going to play out, and almost inevitably we are mistaken! Sometimes we are surprised and pleased, because things work out even better than we anticipated. But sometimes we are surprised and dismayed—or even deeply hurt or angry or embarrassed. The result we expected failed to materialize.
It’s easy to welcome the happy ending, not so easy to accept the disappointing one. However, neither outcome can cause us to lose our balance if we are secure in our knowledge that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28) We’ll be happier if we can give up our attempts to engineer every single aspect of life, and can recognize that the outcome is not entirely dependent upon our cleverness, our sincerity, or our own hard work. We simply cannot control everything. What a relief to know that God is in control! And although not every experience is by itself a good one, yet in all of them together, God is working for our good.
MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)
Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright©1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.
Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com
“Have you ever seen ‘Lost in Yonkers’?” she asked. “There is a priceless line in the movie that describes what you are going through.” Since I was unfamiliar with Neil Simon’s play or the movie made from it, she gave me a briefing. The story begins with two young brothers sent to live with their domineering grandmother after their mother’s death, but it soon revolves more around their Aunt Bella. She is a sweet, unsophisticated woman of thirty-five, who will always think like a child but, as she explains, “feel like a woman inside of me.” An avid movie-goer, she yearns to find someone who will return her love. And so she found Johnny, also limited mentally and emotionally, who is an usher at the theater
One scene depicts a family meeting, nervously convened by Bella, to announce her plan to marry Johnny, open a restaurant with him, and have her own babies. As she herds mother, sister, and nephews into the places she has “assigned” them, her brother Louie is a holdout. He wants to stand—actually, what he really wants to do is to leave. Bella tells him, “But it would be much better if you were sitting, Louie. I pictured everybody sitting.” And later, when Louie raises objections during “the family talk” that Bella is conducting, she cries out in exasperation, “That’s not how I pictured it.”
Isn’t that like life? So often we imagine just exactly how circumstances are going to play out, and almost inevitably we are mistaken! Sometimes we are surprised and pleased, because things work out even better than we anticipated. But sometimes we are surprised and dismayed—or even deeply hurt or angry or embarrassed. The result we expected failed to materialize.
It’s easy to welcome the happy ending, not so easy to accept the disappointing one. However, neither outcome can cause us to lose our balance if we are secure in our knowledge that “in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28) We’ll be happier if we can give up our attempts to engineer every single aspect of life, and can recognize that the outcome is not entirely dependent upon our cleverness, our sincerity, or our own hard work. We simply cannot control everything. What a relief to know that God is in control! And although not every experience is by itself a good one, yet in all of them together, God is working for our good.
MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)
Scripture taken from the Holy Bible, New International Version®. NIV®. Copyright©1973, 1978, 1984 by International Bible Society. Used by permission of Zondervan. All rights reserved.
Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com
Thursday, August 7, 2008
I'll Be Your Best Friend
Do you remember those grade school days when you implored someone to tell their secret or invite you to their party or help you with your homework? “I’ll be your best friend,” was the ultimate offer to pay for their favor. Depending on how badly the other person needed friends, you might have had your request granted. But often—not. That particular tactic engendered lots of disappointment.
If you are older than, say, six years old, you have undoubtedly suffered disappointment in one relationship or another. The friend proved selfish or disloyal. A neighbor was careless or unkind. A family member on whom you depended did not come through for you. A child was ungrateful; a spouse did not meet your expectations. We all feel keenly disappointed when these friends fail us. We want and need a bunch of best friends whom we can trust completely—or a handful, at least. Okay then, one?
Good news! There is a friend, and only one, who will not fail.
You didn’t have wise parenting? God said, “Can a mother forget her nursing child? Can she feel no love for the child she has borne? But even if that were possible, I would not forget you!” (Isaiah 49:15 NLT)
You didn’t have the brother/sister support you needed? “There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” (Proverbs 18:24 NIV)
Your marriage is rocky or you are all alone? "Sing, O barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the [spiritual] children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband," says the LORD. “Do not be afraid; you will not suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated. You will forget the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood. For your Maker is your husband—the LORD Almighty is his name—the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; he is called the God of all the earth.” (Isaiah 54:1, 4, 5 NIV)
Your neighbor or business associate was unreliable? “God has said, ‘I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.’ So we can say with confidence, ‘The Lord is my helper, so I will have no fear. What can mere people do to me?’ ” (Hebrews 13:5, 6 NLT)
None of this is to say that we shouldn’t be working to improve our human relationships, because we should. But open yourself wide to hear the voice of God our heavenly Father, Jesus who calls us friends, and the Holy Spirit who is the Comforter saying to you, “I’ll be your best friend.”
Scripture quotations marked NLT are taken from The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. United States of America. All rights reserved
Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the New International Bible, used by permission.
MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)
Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com
If you are older than, say, six years old, you have undoubtedly suffered disappointment in one relationship or another. The friend proved selfish or disloyal. A neighbor was careless or unkind. A family member on whom you depended did not come through for you. A child was ungrateful; a spouse did not meet your expectations. We all feel keenly disappointed when these friends fail us. We want and need a bunch of best friends whom we can trust completely—or a handful, at least. Okay then, one?
Good news! There is a friend, and only one, who will not fail.
You didn’t have wise parenting? God said, “Can a mother forget her nursing child? Can she feel no love for the child she has borne? But even if that were possible, I would not forget you!” (Isaiah 49:15 NLT)
You didn’t have the brother/sister support you needed? “There is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.” (Proverbs 18:24 NIV)
Your marriage is rocky or you are all alone? "Sing, O barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the [spiritual] children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband," says the LORD. “Do not be afraid; you will not suffer shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated. You will forget the shame of your youth and remember no more the reproach of your widowhood. For your Maker is your husband—the LORD Almighty is his name—the Holy One of Israel is your Redeemer; he is called the God of all the earth.” (Isaiah 54:1, 4, 5 NIV)
Your neighbor or business associate was unreliable? “God has said, ‘I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.’ So we can say with confidence, ‘The Lord is my helper, so I will have no fear. What can mere people do to me?’ ” (Hebrews 13:5, 6 NLT)
None of this is to say that we shouldn’t be working to improve our human relationships, because we should. But open yourself wide to hear the voice of God our heavenly Father, Jesus who calls us friends, and the Holy Spirit who is the Comforter saying to you, “I’ll be your best friend.”
Scripture quotations marked NLT are taken from The Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Wheaton, Illinois 60189. United States of America. All rights reserved
Scripture quotations marked NIV are taken from the New International Bible, used by permission.
MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)
Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com
Saturday, July 19, 2008
For the Disappointed
You have stood on the shore
and waited for your ship to come in.
You have searched the horizon until your eyes ached,
waiting for it to come into sight.
But the ship you look for is not coming.
It has been lost at sea.
You know that,
For the wreckage has come drifting in
and is even now at your feet.
Why do you continue to gaze longingly
at the distant horizon, hoping your ship
will by some miracle appear?
Turn your eyes. Look in the other direction.
There you see coming into sight
what I the Lord have prepared for you.
It is not fully visible;
it is only a puff of smoke on the horizon,
but it is coming, and it is for you.
You are going to be surprised!
You are going to be made glad!
You will not be disappointed
in what I have personally chosen for you.
Have I ever failed to keep My word to You?
You have not always had your way,
for My ways are not the same as your ways.
You have not always seen the answer
you thought would come,
for My thoughts are higher than your thoughts.
But I will not fail you.
There will be a fulfillment of what I have spoken to you.
Do not be afraid to trust Me.
(This blog is my "other direction."
Blessings, MaryMartha)
(All rights reserved)
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