Here's Mud in Your Eye

    The other day when I was at the grocery store, I was unable to enter a parking row and another driver was unable to exit it because an older woman had parked behind two other parked, but thankfully empty, cars in that row. Since my only other choice was exiting the parking lot and starting over, I waited for her to finish whatever she was doing there and leave. As our cars passed, she turned to me and said, "Don't give ME your dirty looks!" They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, apparently dirty is also. I could not have given her the stink eye, even had I wanted to, because the sun had darkened my transitions lenses. The only portion of my face capable of looking unhappy was my mouth, which was wearing the same half smile I gave any stranger in passing. Since sagging jowls make us menopause mamas look frowny, I have to smile a little just to break even. Unless my earlobes looked angry, the dirty look she saw was coming from inside her eyes, not the outside.
     It is true that I was not impressed with her driving ability, but people tend to see what they expect to.  Liars think people are lying to them. Dishonest people think others are ripping them off. I assume she was the kind of person who gives dirty looks and makes rude comments. I appreciate her willingness to spare me the effort of coming up with my own dirty look, but it is hard to be a good testimony for Christ when even my rare moments of good behavior are interpreted through dirty lenses.
     I had the same problem in high school as a new Christian. Two of the girls I sat with at lunch time not only loved to talk crudely, but were giving a vulgar spin to my most innocent comments. Through them I understood Titus 1:15 which says, "To the pure all things are pure, but to those who are corrupted and do not believe, nothing is pure. Both their minds and consciences are corrupted." Through this experience I also learned about prayer. I couldn't just sit with another group of friends, I didn't have that many, but I wanted to maintain a good testimony, so I prayed about the situation. Shortly thereafter one of the girls moved and the other changed schools. This was my first answered prayer as a new believer.
     I try to pray for those who see life through self inflicted dirty looks, but I'm sure they would misinterpret that also. Believers are unbelievable to people with "mud in their eye".
    

Allow Me

     In human reasoning, there is a dichotomy between what God allows and what God causes to happen in our lives. God's Sovereignty + Satan's Schemes + human choice is an equation as irreconcilable as my last bank statement. The book of Job gives us a peek behind the curtain at the God vs. Satan part of a very human drama. Some see this as proof that God is in charge of good things that happen and Satan is in charge of bad. Example:  good harvest--God, earthquake--Satan.  As R. C. Sproul explained, if that were the case, you should probably worship Satan because he is the one who wants to hurt you. Because Satan asked permission to harm Job, I think sometimes we view God as a nagged parent who eventually gives in, against his better judgment, to Satan's requests. We forget that singling out Job was God's idea. (Job 1:8)  And that Satan's claim that Job only loved God because of the blessings he had been given, was also Job's fear. "What I have feared has come upon me." (Job 3:25)
     Job's comforters erred because they thought what was happening was about sin. Job erred because he thought it was about fairness. We err when we try to reduce God's sovereignty into concepts we can understand--like Good God/ bad god. God had a purpose in those trials for Job, Job's wife, his fickle friends, and all those through the ages who have read the book, as well as giving Satan his comeuppance. In the final chapters God does not explain himself to Job, He merely points out why Job is not qualified to demand or understand an explanation. Neither are we. Whether God causes or allows bad things to happen to good people is splitting hairs--human hairs.
    Studying Revelation has shown me that even the terrible, final judgments on the inhabitants of the earth are within strict boundaries. No one is punished accidentally or capriciously. If the price of defending God's character is lessening his sovereignty, allow me to abstain.

Mother Matters

    Now that my mother is dead, I no longer have the bittersweet feelings I used to toward Mother's Day. It was hard to celebrate being a mom without feeling the loss of that relationship with my schizophrenic mother. With my youngest child now 29, I guess what I really want to know from my grown children is, did I make a difference?

Did it make a difference in their lives that I was there to take them to school in the morning, pick them up in the afternoon? Or stay at school all day as a volunteer?
Did it matter that I came on their field trips? Brought treats for their birthdays? Planned parties?
Did they care that there were homemade cookies in the cookie jar? Home cooked meals? That I packed their lunches?
Do they remember the funny stories I read them at bedtime? And that sometimes I laughed so hard, Reed had to take over for me? That we prayed together when I tucked them in? That, when they were little, I sang them lullabies? Or sang doing housework? Or in the car?
Do they remember the games we played in the car while traveling? I Spy, or guess the theme song, 20 questions? That we built forts in the living room? Or pretended a blanket on the floor was a magic carpet?
Did the traditions I created matter? The doughnuts on pumpkin carving day? Christmas Eve fondue? Decorating the seasonal sugar cookies? The special plates I used for Sunday morning breakfast?
Did it make a difference that I took them to the library storytime? The free summer concerts in the park? Do they even remember going to the drive-in movies in their pajamas?
Were they glad the house was always clean enough to have guests over, even though I made them pick up their stuff? That there was always enough food for their last minute dinner guests?
Did it make a difference in their lives that when they said, "Watch me." I was there to do it? That I could love them in the ways I longed for growing up?

    I hope it mattered to them, because I know it mattered to me. It still matters to me, because motherhood is the highest calling God has ever given me and I wanted, and still want, to do it well. What I want for Mother's Day is not flowers, or cards or gifts, but that the children I'm so proud of remember something I did that made a difference, if only because, it makes them smile.

Dispense With That

    In the past, it was widely accepted that the distinction of worst television series ever went to "My Mother the Car", whose name says it all. Of course, that was before reality tv. Such reincarnation is ridiculous, however, I am married to a discouragement dispenser. My husband is by nature and nurture a pessimist. I am an optimist. I took a long, hard look at that incompatibility before we got married. Since we have been married almost 39 years now, I obviously learned to make peace with it. When my husband throws out some pessimistic pronouncement, I usually splash some positivity over it and go my merry way.
    However in the dark times, like our family is going through now, I cannot even find my merry way. When I am at the end of my rope, I can count on my husband to be there to try to jerk it out of my hands. He does not mean to be the devil's advocate, he is just saying what he is thinking. But I know it is not all he is thinking because, when I point out the positives, he says he already thought of that. I suggested that, for my sake, instead of saying the bad things and thinking the good, he might try saying the good things and thinking the bad. He has seldom brought up a negative that I failed to consider, I just chose not to dwell on it.
    Pessimists usually consider themselves "realists", but they only think that because they are pessimists. They look for the dark cloud instead of the silver lining. Our nature may be wired to either rose-colored or dark glasses, but believers are called to see through Christ clear lenses. To be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. We must see the evil in the world to guard against it, but are to focus on things that are pure, lovely, admirable and praiseworthy. People who display hope and inner peace naturally attract others to Christ. When I worked at the hospital, I could tell which rooms Christians were in before we even spoke by the atmosphere of peace. It is hard to be a peaceful pessimist.
     I have accepted that my home won't be one where seldom is heard a discouraging word and God has been faithful to provide me with other sources of encouragement, especially through His Word--the doubt dispeller.