God's Way of Working

God so desperately wants people to get the message of His love, that He packages it in visible ways. In His created world, in the written Scriptures, most of all in His son Jesus, and finally in us when we demonstrate the genuine characteristics of the Family.

"All this [newness of life] comes from the God who settled the relationship between us and him, and then called us to settle our relationships with each other. God put the world square with himself through the Messiah, giving the world a fresh start by offering forgiveness of sins. God has given us the task of telling everyone what he is doing. We're Christ's representatives. God uses us to persuade men and women to drop their differences and enter into God's work of making things right between them. We're speaking for Christ himself now: Become friends with God; he's already a friend with you." (II Corinthians 5:18-20)

►The best way to win people to God's love is to love them yourself.

►The best way to convince people that God accepts them is for you to accept them.

►The best way to assure people that God cares for them is for you to care.

►The best way to persuade people that God will forgive them is for them to experience your forgiveness.

What is your attitude toward someone who has offended you?

"Heal my wound," or

"Be reconciled to God."

"Make good the loss I've suffered," or

"Make things right with God."

"I give up," or
"There is great, good hope for you."

"Mercy for me but justice for you," or

"Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ."

MaryMartha

Scripture taken from THE MESSAGE. Copyright © 2003 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Art from http://www.sxc.hu/

Don't Take It Personally

I have often wondered why Moses was called the meekest or most humble man on earth. (See Numbers 12:3) I discovered the other day some things about him that I had never realized before. Moses was so incensed at the injustice meted out to his brethren by the Egyptian taskmasters, that he killed one of the overseers and buried him in the sand. Witness, judge, jury, executioner—Moses was all of those that day. He stepped in where only God had the right. Humble, was he? I don't think so.

Now, move ahead many years. Moses has been out in the wilderness as a sheepherder for forty years. He has met the great I AM. He has a call to lead God's people out of their bondage. He is no longer ready to take things into his own hands; in fact, he has so much personal reluctance that God is displeased by the lack of godly confidence he has. Moses has seen God display His power in the series of plagues that troubled Egypt; he has seen the Red Sea opened for the Israelites to pass through; he has seen water provided miraculously for the huge crowd of travelers.

But then, a month and a half into the journey, the supplies the crowd had brought with them are depleted. Perhaps only a few complained at first, but eventually there was a groundswell of discontent in the camp. "We were better off in Egypt," the people whined. "There we had meat and bread, but out here we are going to starve to death. Moses, do something."


"Your sin is not against me,
but against GOD.

And Moses, who had now learned something about letting God be God, replied, "Your complaints are not against Aaron and me and I am not taking them personally, because you are complaining against God." (Notice that the people had not bothered to complain to God, but only against Him to whoever would listen. Pretty typical.)



Part of Moses' reputation for meekness then, I believe, was coming to the understanding that he should stay out of God's business. It is very easy for us to involve ourselves in applying guilt to those whom we think should feel guilty, and in condemning those who deserve condemnation. We may even keep our distance from those who claim to be Christian but whose fellowship would embarrass, confuse, or "compromise" us. There are some things we just do not need to worry about, take offense over, and try to correct; they are God's business and not our concern.



Granted, if we are offended, we must forgive, but I have just discovered that some of the things I was struggling to forgive were not mine to handle at all. The sin was not, in the final analysis, against me but against God. Forgiveness was not required if I would just let go! That must be why the Apostle Paul wrote, "Do not take revenge, my friends, but leave room for God's wrath, for it is written: "It is mine to avenge; I will repay," says the Lord." (Romans 12:19)



MaryMartha



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



Art from http://lavistachurchofchrist.org/Pictures

God Is Forgiving

One of a series on "The Endearing Personality of God"

What is forgiveness? How can we forgive egregious offenses? How do we know when we have forgiven completely? These are questions we sometimes ask about our own intentions to forgive.

The clearest definition and evidence of forgiveness is in this aspect of God's character.

God's forgiveness is freely offered. God is full of compassion. He is not waiting to catch us in some transgression, but when we fail, He is merciful. (1)

God's forgiveness is thorough. God removes our sin and remembers it against us never again. (2)

God's forgiveness gives us right relationship with Him. We are justified (made right) as a gift of His grace. (3)

Jesus' parable of the prodigal son's return
illustrates the forgiveness God extends to those
who come "home" to Him.

God's forgiveness, however, is costly. Because the blood of sheep and calves could not take away sins, God gave His Son to the world, securing our redemption. (4)

There are some things, too, that His forgiveness is not.

God's forgiveness does not mean ignoring or making excuses. God does not pat us on the head, so to speak, and tell us everything will be all right. (5)

God's forgiveness does not mean "paying back but instead, working for our good. He does not give us what we deserve, but rather we share in the inheritance that only Christ deserves. (6)

God's forgiveness does not mean accepting continued wrongdoing. God forbid that we should use the promises of grace to pursue our sin, casually believing that God will "wink" at it and forgive again. (7)

God's forgiveness does not necessarily mean escaping the natural consequences. There is a "law" of sowing and reaping that applies both to the natural realm and to the spiritual. (8)

How can we forgive?  Watch what He does and learn to do the same.
(1) Psalm 86:15
(2) Psalm 103:12; Hebrews 10:16, 17
(3) Romans 3:23, 24
(4) Hebrews 9:12; 10:5
(5) Romans 1:20
(6) Psalm 103:10; Romans 8:17
(7) Romans 5:20-6:2
(8) Galatians 6:7, 8

MaryMartha

Art from http://lavistachurchofchrist.org/Pictures

Things Mama Taught Me: "Don't Pick at a Scab"

Eww, gross! Yes, the topic I'm writing about is just a bit on the unpleasant side. Why did our mothers (because probably yours said this too) tell us not to pick at the scabs on our scraped knees, our mosquito bites, and even our chicken pox? Why did we want to anyway? Well, because they were there? Or maybe it was the itch that sometimes comes when healing is underway

4 Our mothers knew that picking off the protection that nature has provided reopens the wound and might cause fresh pain and more bleeding. And more trauma for the afflicted youngster! Not a good idea.

4 Taking the cover off the healing wound tears the new skin that is forming. That delays the healing process and is apt to cause scarring.

4 Opening the wound open again increases the chances of bacteria entering and an infection developing. A greater chance of scarring.

4 When left alone, eventually the crusty scab will be shed—without any help—and bright, new skin is underneath.

This is a great deal like the injuries we sometimes suffer emotionally. Someone hurts us, and it is natural for us to have some kind of response. We may realize the hurt was unintentional, or it may have been completely unrelated to us and we just happened to be handy as a target. We may understand that the other person has unresolved issues, or we may truly have been at fault but were dealt with harshly. Whatever the reason, we have been wounded; now what do we do? The Bible is very clear about our need to forgive, and if possible to seek reconciliation with the other.

But often people treat personal injuries much like children treat scraped knees. In a little while, the initial sting has gone away, but they begin to pick at the healing offense. Time goes by and they continue to re-open the wound, never treating it with the antiseptic of forgiveness and then leaving it alone to heal. What happens then?

4 Every time remembrance of the offense comes to mind, or whenever the offending person is around, there is fresh pain and more "bleeding." The trauma is kept as current as when it first occurred.

4 The healing process is delayed, or it never happens at all. Scarring is almost inevitable, and to a much greater degree than that of a clean, neatly healed injury.

4 Bad stuff can get into the wound: ill will, revenge, gossip, and other things that infect the spirit. This infection can become so vicious that it attacks other people who are nearby.

I have a few scars from childhood injuries that I did not allow to heal well. But with the help of the great Forgiver, I am working hard to promote healing of inward "scrapes" so that they can heal cleanly!

MaryMartha

Art from http://www.sxc.hu/

Forgiving Seventy Times Seven

I wonder what Peter had in mind when he came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how often should I forgive someone who sins against me? Seven times?”

“No, not seven times,” Jesus told him, “but seventy times seven!" (Matthew 18:21,22)

Was Peter at odds with one of the others who were also followers of Jesus? That seems quite possible to me, for Peter was not noted for refinement and gentle conversation. And where did he get the idea that seven occasions of forgiveness would fulfill his obligation? Was it perhaps from the Old Testament laws that prescribed the sacrificial blood, or oil, or water to be sprinkled seven times? Or had he at an earlier time heard Jesus say, "If you see your friend going wrong, correct him. If he responds, forgive him. Even if it's personal against you and repeated seven times through the day, and seven times he says, 'I'm sorry, I won't do it again,' forgive him." (Luke 17:3-4 MSG) Whatever the reason for his question, Jesus gave him an answer that implies, "Stop counting! Just forgive."

To me, it does not seem likely that we will be faced with someone repeating the same hurtful action seven times in one day and apologizing each time for it. (The unrepentant offender is a whole different problem, and in another Scripture, Jesus instructs us how to handle that also.) But what's more apt to happen is our hitting the "replay" button and going over the incident again and again until our mind is muddled and our insides are churning with emotion. Then is the time to ask, "How often must I forgive?"

How often does the remembrance of the hurt come? Forgive that many times.

How often do you think, "But he/she didn't even apologize." Forgive each time.

How often does some anger, righteous and justifiable anger—oh, of course!—surge up? When it does, forgive again.

How often do you wish God would pay them back since He doesn't allow you personally to get even? Forgive, and just go on.

The greatest incentive to forgiving until I've lost count? Jesus isn't keeping track of my failures and blunders and the hurts I've caused Him. "Love keeps no record of being wronged." "Be kind to each other, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, just as God through Christ has forgiven you." (I Corinthians 13:5; Ephesians 4:32 NLT)

MaryMartha

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 marked MSG is taken from The Message. Copyright © 2003 by Eugene H. Peterson. Used by permission of NavPress Publishing Group.

Art from http://www.sxc.hu/

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

Never Saying "Sorry"

"Love means never having to say you're sorry," is a popular line from the 1970 romance novel/film by Erich Segal. Love Story became the top selling work of fiction for all of 1970 in the United States, and was translated into more than 20 languages. The quotation above is perhaps even more enduring than the book itself. In 2005, the American Film Institute compiled a list of the top 100 movie quotations in American cinema. The "never saying sorry” line was #13.

The quote is often parodied. For example, a character on Rugrats says, “Being bad means never having to say you’re sorry,” and John Lennon is supposed to have said, “Love means having to say you're sorry every fifteen minutes.” Segal’s original meaning of the quote in his novel, “Love is not ever having to say you’re sorry,” is all but forgotten: not being sorry that we (the young couple) had loved and “lost,” not having regrets or blame. In the film, the line is used another time as the husband is about to apologize for his anger. His wife then responds with the famous words about never saying “sorry.”

When I first heard the words used that way, I knew instinctively that they were not true. Are we really so sure of ourselves that we think we are never going to make a mistake, even in a close relationship? (Maybe especially in a close relationship) I am with Lisa of The Simpsons. When the family was watching “Love Story,” and heard Jennifer say that love means never saying “sorry,” Lisa said “No, it doesn’t!” And I’m with the bag-of-rocks music professor (Ryan O’Neal) in “What’s Up, Doc?” who responded with “That’s the dumbest thing I ever heard.”

Part of being mature is being able to recognize when offense has been taken, even if unintended, and being willing to take responsibility for it. Perhaps a simple, humble explanation will help, or perhaps not. Perhaps something can be done to make amends; perhaps not. But at the very least, one should have the respect and courtesy to say, and to mean it, “I am sorry.”

(And by the way, don’t add, “But you . . .”)

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Trash in Our Baskets

A friend sent me some kids’ cute sayings the other day. Maybe you’ve heard this one: A four-year-old was heard praying, “And forgive us our trash baskets [trespasses] as we forgive those who put trash in our baskets.”

That brought back to mind an experience of a few years ago. People in the neighborhood were busy raking their lawns, getting ready for the first greening of spring. I decided that the first thing on my agenda was gathering up some of the trash that had accumulated over the winter. So armed with a big plastic bag, I began to pick out the items that had been caught in the clumps of long grass next to the fence.

A plastic bread wrapper. Wait a minute, this is definitely not mine--I don’t buy this brand! Impatiently, I shoved it into my trash bag. A receipt from the lumber yard for eight 2 x 4’s, some nails, and a T-square. I knew nothing at all about that! Part of a paper cup from the ‘burger place, some foam packing “peanuts,” a tennis ball. None of these were mine, I was positive, but into the bag they all went.

I raked under the bushes that surround the porch. Elm and redbud leaves, of course, but catalpa and huge maple leaves? Those didn’t come from any trees of mine! I raked them up anyway, but I started to ponder having to clean up all the stuff in my yard that didn’t even belong to me. What would happen, I wondered, if I just refused to pick up what wasn’t mine?

Obviously, disowning items that became “mine” by default would not be the solution, since ignoring trash will not make it go away. No one was going to come and rake my yard just because the stuff wasn’t left there by me. If I wanted the trash removed, I would have to do it. Regardless of whose trees or habit of tossing litter actually created the mess, it was now in my yard, and therefore now my problem.

So then I began to think about how my spiritual yard gets stuff in it too. There are thoughts that threaten my peace, and snarly attitudes that demand to be given a place. There are tasks that consume more attention than they deserve, and questions that clamor to be heard. My conflicting motivations and my personal temptations all leave something behind. Trash. Clutter. Where did all this come from? I hate to admit it, but this “heart trash” is really mine!

When I go out into the work world or to the grocery store or to the shop where I get my car repaired, I may see and hear things that totally distract me. The clutter can even enter my own living room through the TV or a book or a visitor. A rigorous raking is just what my heart needs—not annually, but often! It must be bagged and hauled off, even if I was unaware that it had been accumulating. Once it comes into my life, I am responsible for its removal, regardless of its origin.

I need to pray often the childish prayer, “Forgive me my trash baskets, as I forgive those who put trash in my basket!”

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

What Joseph Learned about the Past

The Bible is not evasive at all when it comes to telling us about its heroes. The life of Joseph is one of the more complete accounts we have of a person’s life. Most of the details we have about Joseph are from his teen years onward, but we can assume a lot about his childhood when we read the whole story in Genesis. His early years were marked by what we would now call “childhood trauma.”

Joseph was born into a family where there were already ten sons, the first son of his mother Rachel while the older boys were born of three other mothers. He was most likely still a young child when, hurriedly and secretly, they moved away from Grandpa Laban’s, the only home Joseph had ever known. They had traveled for a week when Grandpa caught up with them. There were loud, angry words; was the little boy afraid?

Father Jacob and Grandpa Laban worked something out, however, and soon they were on their way again—only to receive news that Uncle Esau was coming to meet them with four hundred men, ready to fight! Joseph’s father divided the servants, flocks and herds into several groups, sending some ahead to meet Esau. During the night he got up and moved his family across the brook, while he stayed behind. In the morning, when he returned for them, he was crippled! More scary stuff for a child!

Then there was the nasty encounter at Shechem, when the young men of the family slaughtered the residents for the rape of their sister. Also, Deborah, a faithful family servant died and was buried near the city. Where was young Joseph when all of this was happening? They were only a little way from Ephrath (Bethlehem), when Rachel went into labor, and baby brother Benjamin arrived. But Rachel died giving birth, and was buried along the way. A little while later, Grandpa Isaac, the patriarch that Joseph had heard so much about and the one whom they had traveled through such difficulty to join, also died. Such loss for a little boy.

Although not the youngest of the sons, Joseph was favored by his father, and this favoritism sparked ill will among those who were slighted. This in turn led to wrongdoing and undeserved suffering. He did not add to his likeability by unwisely, it would seem, telling everyone the dreams which forecast his authority over them and by serving as a “reporter” to his father. Finally, still only a teenager, Joseph was sold by his own brothers as a slave to foreigners.

So Joseph, an honored Bible example, even a foreshadowing of Christ Himself, grew up in a wildly dysfunctional family—think of that! Had he lived in modern times, he might exhibit one ailment or another and then say, “Well, you can’t blame me for my problems. I had a lot of trauma as a youngster.” Or he could behave badly, and ask, “What do you expect from someone with a dysfunctional family like mine?” Instead, he consistently acted with integrity—when propositioned, when unjustly imprisoned, when given responsibility, when forgotten, and finally when given power and almost unlimited authority. The ultimate demonstration of his uprightness was his forgiveness of the brothers who had so wronged him. Revealing himself as their long-lost brother, he declared, “God has sent me ahead of you to keep you and your families alive and to preserve many survivors. So it was God who sent me here, not you! And he is the one who made me an adviser to Pharaoh—the manager of his entire palace and the governor of all Egypt.” (Genesis 45:7-8, emphasis mine) And later, when the brothers feared that Joseph would get even after their father’s death, he assured them, “ ‘Don’t be afraid of me. Am I God, that I can punish you? You intended to harm me, but God intended it all for good. He brought me to this position so I could save the lives of many people . . .’ So he reassured them by speaking kindly to them.” (Genesis 50:19-21, emphasis mine)

Joseph was able to look at his past through enlightened eyes. He was able to recognize that, all along, his life had been marked—not just with trauma—but with the presence of God. Even his employer and the prison keeper were aware of it. It was Joseph’s greatest asset.

We do not always comprehend the greater plan. We are myopic, seeing only what is right in front of us. But God does have a plan! Before the foundation of the world, He chose us to know Him. He looked ahead, saw the genes each of us would inherit, saw the people who would influence us as we grew up, saw the problems and questions and mistakes that would impact us negatively, and said, “I choose you . . . and you . . . and you. All of us. We look at our backgrounds and say, “But this is just the way I am. It’s too hard. I can’t do this, or I can’t be this, because of such-and-such.” But before any of us ever had a background, God was saying “I want you.” It took all of the experiences we have had—all of our past—to bring us to this very place of God’s calling.

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Scripture quotations 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.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Forgive Your Past

I indulged in a nice piece of dark chocolate the other afternoon—thank you, Dove Promises—and the little message on the foil wrapper said this: “Live in the present, forgive your past.” One might wonder, at first, why the words are not, “Forget your past.” The truth is, we don’t forget significant experiences readily, especially if the emotions surrounding them were strongly negative. Research indicates that fear and sadness trigger increased activity in a part of the brain linked to memory. You probably can remember just what you were doing when you heard that President Kennedy had been assassinated or that the Challenger had exploded or that airplanes had flown into the Twin Towers. On the other hand, you may have a hard time remembering an important anniversary or to renew your driver’s license. That is because emotionally charged memories are preserved in greater detail, and thus remembered more clearly, than happy or neutral memories (although we must be aware that they are subject to distortion).

Probably everyone has personal memories they wish they could just turn off, memories about their own mistakes or failures. These may be as overwhelming as the remorse for a criminal offense or a tragic accident caused by irresponsibility. They may be as nagging as the regret that early health habits have created a present crisis or that one did not say “I love you,” to a friend or family member before they died. Since we are not likely to just forget these faults, how can we live at peace with ourselves? The answer was on the candy wrapper: Forgive your past.

Sometimes this is not easily done. We may even say, “I can never forgive myself for doing . . . saying . . . causing . . .” The wounds may be very deep, and we have trouble even facing the situation honestly. Or they may still be very new, and we cannot see them objectively. God is the perfect Forgiver; He forgives speedily and without question. When we forgive—especially, I think, when we forgive ourselves—we forgive slowly and with a great deal of caution. Then we must go just as far as we can, and keep ourselves working at it without self-criticism and guilt.

Many of us grew up hearing the adage, “Anything worth doing at all is worth doing well.” That sounds good, like the “pursuit of excellence,” but in fact there are some things in life we may never begin at all if we put them off until we can do them well. Some things are just too important to wait. We must begin by doing the best we can, even though we have little confidence in our ability and may in fact not do it very well.

Forgiving is one of those things. When it comes to forgiving ourselves, sometimes the best we can do is to forgive ourselves partly and then pray: “O God, I am trying to let go of the past, but I’m really not able to do it very it well. I have forgiven myself the best I can, but I still have times when I beat myself up. So now, Lord, I bring the whole situation to You. Here are my sins and my hurt, and my feeble efforts. Give me Your great healing power for my weakness.”

How can forgiving ourselves—even if it is only partly, at first—start us on the road to freedom and wholeness? Think of the thing you have the most trouble forgiving yourself for. Now, if your best and most trusted friend had been in this situation, if you discovered that the person whom you most respect had done or said or been this—could you find it in your heart to forgive them and minister gently to the wounded area in their life?

What keeps you from treating yourself as you would treat that friend?

MaryMartha
(All rights reserved)

Source for the brain information: http://www.webmd.com/brain/news/20070829/bad-memories-easier-to-remember?src=RSS_PUBLIC

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Things Mama Taught Me: Wash Before You Come to the Table

On Celebrating the “Lord’s Supper”

My mother was not unique among mothers in requiring us, her children, to wash our hands before we sat down to eat. There must be some special insight that mothers have in order to know, even without examination, that hands need to be washed! And mothers were not alone. The teachers in our rural school also insisted on hand-washing. One of the older students labored arduously (and proudly) to produce water from the creaky outdoor pump or in freezing weather presided over a water bucket and dipper. Washing before we came to the table was just a given.

When we come to the Lord’s Table—or differing faith communities may say, “observe the Eucharist,” or “receive Communion”—there are aspects of getting ready. Sufficient spiritual preparation is expected of Roman Catholic and Orthodox believers prior to receiving Holy Communion, sacramentally confessing any grave, deliberate sin. In Anglican and Episcopalian practice, it is “required that we should examine our lives, repent of our sins, and be in love and charity with all people.” Lutherans are taught to prepare to receive this sacrament through prayerful reflection upon their sinful nature, their need for a Savior, and the promise that their sins are forgiven for the sake of Jesus' death on the Cross. In Methodism, the table is “open,” that is, made available to all people, reflected in the general invitation, "Christ our Lord invites to his table all who love him, who earnestly repent of their sin and seek to live in peace with one another." Presbyterian and other Reform Protestant churches urge “ . . . examining themselves of their being in Christ, of their sins and wants; of the truth and measure of their knowledge, faith, repentance; love to God and the brethren, charity to all men, forgiving those that have done them wrong; of their desires after Christ, and of their new obedience; and by renewing the exercise of these graces, by serious meditation, and fervent prayer.” There are many other beliefs too, including that of the Quakers who do not use any physical elements at all, their silence indicating communion with the Lord and fellowship with one another.

Clearly, the various traditions differ widely in defining what happens at the Table, who may participate, and what happens afterwards. The common thread in these instructions, however, is something like my mother’s admonition: “Wash before you come to the Table.” The prayer of King David is appropriate at this time, “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” (Psalm 51:10 KJV) Preparation to receive this remembrance of Christ’s sacrifice for us is not only about our relationship with Him, although that is supremely important. In many of the practices outlined above, those who participate are also to examine their relationship with others. The greatest commandment, the Scripture tells us, is to love God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength. “The second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ No other commandment is greater than these.” (Mark 12:31 NLT) Jesus Himself demonstrated the right attitude for us, humbly taking a servant’s place and washing each disciple’s feet—even the feet of Judas whom He knew would betray Him only a few hours later. “What I have done, you should do for each other,” He explained. Although a few groups follow Jesus’ example literally and conduct a ceremony of actually washing each other’s feet, we all, at the very least, are to have the same quality of loving and serving others.

If you are in a faith community that observes this sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, think the next time of the meaning of participation. And what if, on examination, one finds he/she is lacking readiness? Although the centuries-old wording sounds strange in these times, I love what one tradition expresses in their catechism.

“One who doubts of his being in Christ, or of his due preparation to the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, may have true interest in Christ, though he be not yet assured thereof; and in God's account has it, if he be duly affected with the apprehension of the want of it, and unfeignedly desires to be found in Christ, and to depart from iniquity: in which case (because promises are made, and this sacrament is appointed, for the relief even of weak and doubting Christians) he is to bewail his unbelief, and labor to have his doubts resolved; and, so doing, he may and ought to come to the Lord's Supper, that he may be further strengthened." (Answer, question 172, “The Westminster Larger Catechism,” 1648, emphasis mine)

The message of inclusion is clear: Come to the Table. Wash your hands on the way.

MaryMartha
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Scripture marked KJV is from the Holy Bible, King James Version. Scripture quotation marked NLT is 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.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Infected Words

For fifty years, from October 2, 1950, to January 3, 2000, Charles M Schulz, instructed us in the values and vicissitudes of daily life through the Peanuts comic strip. I was a dedicated reader as I was growing up—and still love the classic reprints. Who could forget Lucy holding the football for Charlie Brown, Linus and his blanket, Charlie Brown pining for the little red-haired girl, Pigpen, Spike, Woodstock, Peppermint Patty and all the rest? One particular strip, only one, has stayed in my mind all these years.

Linus: I think you should stop saying 'nyaah nyaah nyaah' to Charlie Brown. Those 'nyaah's can hurt!
Sally: Oh, don't be ridiculous!
Linus: Well, they do hurt! Those 'nyaah's can get down in your stomach and really hurt!
Sally: You're crazy! A few 'nyaah's can't hurt anybody!
Linus: They can if they become infected!

My parents used to tell me to rebuff my older brothers' taunts with “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words/names will never hurt me.” I dutifully repeated that, but I knew it wasn’t actually true. Words do get down in your stomach or your heart and hurt; they can even get “infected.” This infection is what happens when someone is offended by another’s words and begins to harbor anger or bitterness, perhaps even refusing to ever speak with the person again. It is what happens when something said is remembered and replayed over and over again, sometimes for years, the hurt never lessening, the unfairness of it all becoming greater as time passes.

So what should we do? First, if we are the ones doing the criticizing, fault-finding, ridiculing, name-calling, minimizing, “joking” at another’s expense—the answer is simple: Stop it.

If we are the ones receiving the criticism, ridicule, painful jokes, etc., the answer is more complex. We may need to lighten up. Just because someone says something doesn’t make it true. Examine, “What is really the truth about me?” and then we need to practice telling ourselves the truth. We may need to speak honestly: “I feel hurt when you say things like that. Please stop.” We must forgive, or the harm we do to our spirits and our bodies can be greater than the original hurt.

Linus, you were absolutely right.

MaryMartha
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(For some Peanuts nostalgia, go to this source: http://people.cs.uchicago.edu/~dinoj/peanuts.html)

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

The Tiny Flower of Forgiveness

A friend betrayed me.

I confessed to a confidante,”Something deep inside me is broken, and I don't even know what it is.” And I questioned myself, “Am I resentful? Have I let my hurt become anger, and my disappointment turn into bitterness? Am I unforgiving? How can I deal with the unknown?"

The Psalmist had the answer. He prayed, “Search me, O God, and know my heart; try me, and know my anxieties; and see if there is any wicked way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” (Psalm 139:23, 24 NKJV)

The Lord was very gentle with me. He knows how very deep the wounds of the heart can be. He too was betrayed. He told me, "That little movement of compassion in your heart? That is the tiny flower of forgiveness. It is very tender now, but if you protect and nurture it, it will grow."

So I watered it with tears; I fertilized it with the compost of dead hopes; I turned under, again and again, the stubborn earth of unhappy memories.

And the tiny flower of forgiveness grew and bloomed.

MaryMartha
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Scripture taken from the New King James Version. Copyright © 1982 by Thomas Nelson, Inc. Used by permission. All rights reserved.

Email: mrymrtha@gmail.com

Forgiveness

Forgiveness is a path--not summit to be claimed--
That all the way is stained
With secret tears
And blood-red mercy-drops,
The Lord's and mine.

Forgiveness is a path.
The Betrayed One's nail-marked hand
Will safely guide
My Cross-ward steps
Through valley hemmed with pain
And dark as death.

Forgiveness is a path
I do not walk alone.
Before, beside, within,
The One-Who-Sees
Is present to beseech
When I cannot,
"Father, forgive."

MaryMartha
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