You know, it probably goes without saying, but life is tricky. And being a Christian does not always make it easier.
Recently, I have found myself trying very hard to understand God's will, his plan, his purpose. And since I'm not God, and He is irritatingly silent in revealing his plans on my schedule, I have also found myself feeling as though I must be the problem.
I mean, if we believe in a God who is able to do immeasurably MORE than all we ask, but then he doesn't do more, and sometimes seems to do practically nothing, how do we reconcile the reasons that God seems silent?
It must be me.
It must be that I am not prayerful enough, that I am not humble enough, that I don't speak His name enough, that I don't go to church enough, or that I don't read the Word enough. We know that we should do these good Christian things, but we're human and therefore hopelessly inadequate at doing all the things that we believe God would want from us before he can pour out his blessings. We come to God, and we ASK for great things, but quite frankly, we know we're not worthy, so when our heavenly Santa Claus puts us on the "Naughty List" we are not all that surprised. We're not happy about it, but we make our peace with disappointment because we must not be "doing" enough to earn God's favor.
But that's the point. We are NOT WORTHY! But that's not news to God. It has always been his plan for us to be unable to attain favor through any other means than by receiving his love and mercy.
Galatians 3
2-4 Let me put this question to you: How did your new life begin? Was it by working your heads off to please God? Or was it by responding to God’s Message to you? Are you going to continue this craziness? For only crazy people would think they could complete by their own efforts what was begun by God. If you weren’t smart enough or strong enough to begin it, how do you suppose you could perfect it?
When we became believers we didn't do so by working for it, we became believers simply by accepting what God wanted to give. So why then, as we mature as Christians do we forget that we were always meant to receive, and that our works will not determine whether or not we get what we want. That while we may mean well with our adherence to a bunch of religious rules this legalism is not likely to result in our desired outcome.
We may think we know better. We think "Ok God, I want something, but I know I'm not actually worthy of your blessings so I am going to contribute to this equation to help you out. I'm going to pray every day to show you that I'm helping. You know; Jesus, plus me, equals success!"
Yeah, about that... it just doesn't work that way.
9-10 So those now who live by faith are blessed along with Abraham, who lived by faith—this is no new doctrine! And that means that anyone who tries to live by his own effort, independent of God, is doomed to failure.
We will fail if we rely on legalism or moralist rules. WE CAN'T EARN HIS FAVOR - we already have it! There is nothing wrong with praying, reading the Word, going to church, those are wonderful things, but they are a product of God's presence in our life, not something that will help God bless us.
11-12 The obvious impossibility of carrying out such a moral program should make it plain that no one can sustain a relationship with God that way. The person who lives in right relationship with God does it by embracing what God arranges for him. Doing things for God is the opposite of entering into what God does for you.
Just like when we first accepted Christ into our lives, we EMBRACED what God had for us, offered no promises, no works, no rule-keeping; we just received. We were good with whatever God had for us, and that deepened our faith in Him. "Hey God, I'm pretty much a mess. I'm not gonna be able to do this alone. I need you in my life, forever. Can you please help me out?" We brought nothing but a little bit of faith to the equation of salvation but oh, how we received!
13 Christ redeemed us from that self-defeating, cursed life by absorbing it completely into himself.
21-22 If such is the case, is the law, then, an anti-promise, a negation of God’s will for us? Not at all. Its purpose was to make obvious to everyone that we are, in ourselves, out of right relationship with God, and therefore to show us the futility of devising some religious system for getting by our own efforts what we can only get by waiting in faith for God to complete his promise. For if any kind of rule-keeping had power to create life in us, we would certainly have gotten it by this time.
If rule-keeping made us better Christians, if it deepened our faith, or somehow helped God do his work, then we would have figured out the perfect plan for getting what we want from God every time.
We can't do it. I can't do it. I can't "help" God get me what I want. I am called to receive what is given when it is given. And as I receive, then will I pray. Then will I serve, because in receiving, we are reminded that we are REDEEMED, that we have been made whole and perfect by his love.
We don't earn it, we can't make it happen.
God called me to try yet another new church this weekend, even though I have been exhausted by the search for a church home. I have been discouraged. I have been mad. I have been blaming myself for not being a good enough Christian to have found a church home by now. And I have been thinking that the reason I'm not getting what I want when I pray is maybe because I am not "trying hard enough" to follow the rules; Pray. Read the Bible. Go to Church. I have told myself that God is being silent because I am not good enough.
This weekend, at a new church, the pastor spoke about this very topic. I was reminded that none of us are good enough. We don't earn salvation. We don't earn favor. We can't work towards blessings. We receive His love as we did on Day One of our new lives, and then miraculously, wonderfully God responds. He is always calling us to just receive, and in receiving then and only then will we enter the fullness of his plan for us.
"Jesus, plus Nothing, equals Everything."
- L
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
Thursday, February 4, 2016
Good Life
I am holding on to this song tonight.
It has been a tough few weeks for myself and my family.
As we finished celebrating Christmas, and I steadied myself for another handful of days of work before the New Year, my mom sent me a worrisome, but hopeful text:
"Grandma is in the hospital with a respiratory issue, but she should be home in a few days."
I wasn't worried. Grandma had several medical incidents over the last two years. She is a fiece and resilient lady who survived the atrocities of World War II. She ccould certainly overcome a little shortness of breath.
While I was at work the next day, I received a phone call from a close friend of my grandparents. I was standing outside the room of a woman who was actively dying, and I was preparing to go into the room to console and support her overwhelmed daughter. But when I received three missed calls from Ontario, it occurred to me that it was me, who may need support. I was then informed that my Grandmother was on a ventilator, and that her prognosis was poor. Despite the agony of saying goodbye, my Grandpa would allow them to remove the vent in the next 48 hours so that my Grandmother could pass away peacefully, with dignity. The call was to provide an update and urge me to visit now if I wanted to say goodbye.
I didn't cry.
I couldn't cry while I was literally standing in the midst of those very same decisions happening all around me. I am supposed to be able to deal with hard choices, loss, grief and bereavement. I'm the one who can help guide others with those mess emotions. There is no space for me to feel those feelings here.
In the following two days, Grandma rallied (she's got what she calls "tough East Prussian blood" in her.) And while she did come off the vent, she was now trapped on Bilevel Positive Airway Pressure or BiPap, which is a rather uncomfortable full face mask that pushes air to your mouth and nose. I say "trapped" because it is almost impossible to talk with air pushing at your face, and you can't really eat with it either. With the BiPap in place, she was awake but not particularly comfortable.
And I couldn't see her. I couldn't talk to her. I couldn't ask the doctors the millions of questions on my mind. I was over 500 miles away from her side and I couldn't do anything except wait.
I stink at waiting.
I was overwhelmed, anxious, moody, grouchy and completely on edge. Never knowing when the phone would ring. Wondering if I would get bad news, and then quickly have to coordinate an impromptu trip to Ontario... in JANUARY, when it SNOWS. Wishing I could hold her hand and offer her words of comfort that I am able to freely give to so many of my patients and their families. Feeling profoundly helpless. Feeling angry that I couldn't control any part of what was happening. Worrying that she was suffering.
I almost came unglued in those two weeks of uncertainty. All that I have done to break through old patterns of coping with anxiety and sadness, this was a grueling test of my own resiliency. I'd love to say I took it in stride, called out to God for help, and laid my worries at his feet... I mean, that's what I'm supposed to be able to say, because I'm a Christian, (and a professional therapist) and I KNOW what I'm supposed to do in a crisis. I admit, I forgot that when we suffer, we are NOT ALONE, and our Father is waiting for us to call out to Him.
Psalm 34:17-18 (The Message)
Is anyone crying for help? God is listening,ready to rescue you.
If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there; if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath.
On Sunday, January 9th I was laying low, worried, and not wanting to do much of anything. So I decided to watch our small collection of home movies. There are just a few, from a handful of years when my Grandpa had a camcorder and they were exclusively shots with my Grandma & Grandpa, my parents and my sister. But every one of those videos is this precious time capsule, that captured my family for a moment in time. So that, by the time I finished all the videos, I felt like I had spent the day with my family; and with my Grandma. And as the last video ended and I wondered what to watch next, the phone rang...
She died that evening, peacefully on January 9th, 2016 just three days shy of her 90th birthday.
I was honored to be asked by my Grandpa to deliver a eulogy for my Grandma:
I am honored to stand here today as we say goodbye to my wonderful Grandma, Ursula Irma Krakau Frisch.
In the days since Grandma stepped into the beautiful beyond I find myself hearing her words in my head. Her constant insights and advice to me through the years:
“Just Live Your Life Lindsay”
“Don’t rush it.”
“Enjoy being young.”
“You’ve got a good life.”
My Grandmother’s early life was not particularly easy or enjoyable. In fact there were parts of it that were profoundly hard. She lived through World War II, and saw her mother die and her father be forever changed by war. She and her sister, Kika escaped to West Germany and survived by good fortune and what she has always referred to as “Strong East Prussian blood”. She found a new future in Canada and started building a new life. But then endured a broken marriage and divorce before her beloved son, Victor was even two years old.
But through these trials, she developed remarkable resiliency. She learned how to be an incredible single mom with tenacity and grace in a time where she had very few peers to help guide her. She worked, she paid bills, she advocated for herself. She balanced work and motherhood and even figured out how to make sure she had fashionable clothes season to season. She was creative, persistent and unwavering her fight for a happy ending. And when she was ready, she opened her heart and let love come to her. She rebuilt herself a family when she said “yes” to spending the rest of her life with my Grandfather, Reiner.
As Grandma’s family grew, the addition of grandchildren to her life seems to have been quite possibly one of her greatest joys (if I do say so myself!)
She has loved my sister, Erin and I abundantly. She showered us with hugs, kisses, and gifts. She rarely said “no” and indulged our wild imaginations, wishes and games. She instituted a family rule “That when one has a birthday the other gets something too” Forever ensuring that celebrating your sister’s birthday wasn’t so bad and can even be fun, when there’s something in it for you! From encouraging our ginger ale & pound cake tea parties to supplying a basket full of chocolates and an unearned $5 “allowance” at every visit, to donating carrots for our defective rabbit-traps – she embraced the endearing chaos of two rambunctious grandchildren.
On the day that she died, I had decided to watch our small collection of family movies. I watched her laugh, fuss over dinner, share hugs with her family, give gifts, worry that the size of the Christmas sweater was right, and genuinely delight in the marvelous family she helped create. In one moment, in giving a card to my sister on her 10th birthday I heard her say (off camera since she preferred not to be filmed if possible!)
“From all our hearts, Erin that your future is nothing but bright.”
It never occurred to her that we couldn’t attain exactly what we set out to have. She believed in a magical future for all of us. A future unburdened by war, death, despair, divorce, and uncertainty; she knew the secret that I am only now uncovering – when we cherish what we have, we can have it ALL.
She wanted us to find the joy the way she had; even if it takes tremendous work. She wanted us to live in such a way that we savored the beauty of each moment, so that maybe, just maybe we could slow down time, and just rest in the safety and peace of something happy. Because being happy is precious indeed.
As we reflect on all Grandma shared with and taught us, and as we say goodbye, I am so thankful that I was able to introduce her to my husband, Aaron. That she was able to see that I am on my way to the big, bright, stunning life I know she believed I would have.
I am profoundly grateful to have been her granddaughter and to have her wise and loving words; “You have a Good Life” written on my heart.
L
My Help is from You
It has been a tough few weeks for myself and my family.
As we finished celebrating Christmas, and I steadied myself for another handful of days of work before the New Year, my mom sent me a worrisome, but hopeful text:
"Grandma is in the hospital with a respiratory issue, but she should be home in a few days."
I wasn't worried. Grandma had several medical incidents over the last two years. She is a fiece and resilient lady who survived the atrocities of World War II. She ccould certainly overcome a little shortness of breath.
While I was at work the next day, I received a phone call from a close friend of my grandparents. I was standing outside the room of a woman who was actively dying, and I was preparing to go into the room to console and support her overwhelmed daughter. But when I received three missed calls from Ontario, it occurred to me that it was me, who may need support. I was then informed that my Grandmother was on a ventilator, and that her prognosis was poor. Despite the agony of saying goodbye, my Grandpa would allow them to remove the vent in the next 48 hours so that my Grandmother could pass away peacefully, with dignity. The call was to provide an update and urge me to visit now if I wanted to say goodbye.
I didn't cry.
I couldn't cry while I was literally standing in the midst of those very same decisions happening all around me. I am supposed to be able to deal with hard choices, loss, grief and bereavement. I'm the one who can help guide others with those mess emotions. There is no space for me to feel those feelings here.
In the following two days, Grandma rallied (she's got what she calls "tough East Prussian blood" in her.) And while she did come off the vent, she was now trapped on Bilevel Positive Airway Pressure or BiPap, which is a rather uncomfortable full face mask that pushes air to your mouth and nose. I say "trapped" because it is almost impossible to talk with air pushing at your face, and you can't really eat with it either. With the BiPap in place, she was awake but not particularly comfortable.
And I couldn't see her. I couldn't talk to her. I couldn't ask the doctors the millions of questions on my mind. I was over 500 miles away from her side and I couldn't do anything except wait.
I stink at waiting.
I was overwhelmed, anxious, moody, grouchy and completely on edge. Never knowing when the phone would ring. Wondering if I would get bad news, and then quickly have to coordinate an impromptu trip to Ontario... in JANUARY, when it SNOWS. Wishing I could hold her hand and offer her words of comfort that I am able to freely give to so many of my patients and their families. Feeling profoundly helpless. Feeling angry that I couldn't control any part of what was happening. Worrying that she was suffering.
I almost came unglued in those two weeks of uncertainty. All that I have done to break through old patterns of coping with anxiety and sadness, this was a grueling test of my own resiliency. I'd love to say I took it in stride, called out to God for help, and laid my worries at his feet... I mean, that's what I'm supposed to be able to say, because I'm a Christian, (and a professional therapist) and I KNOW what I'm supposed to do in a crisis. I admit, I forgot that when we suffer, we are NOT ALONE, and our Father is waiting for us to call out to Him.
Psalm 34:17-18 (The Message)
Is anyone crying for help? God is listening,ready to rescue you.
If your heart is broken, you’ll find God right there; if you’re kicked in the gut, he’ll help you catch your breath.
On Sunday, January 9th I was laying low, worried, and not wanting to do much of anything. So I decided to watch our small collection of home movies. There are just a few, from a handful of years when my Grandpa had a camcorder and they were exclusively shots with my Grandma & Grandpa, my parents and my sister. But every one of those videos is this precious time capsule, that captured my family for a moment in time. So that, by the time I finished all the videos, I felt like I had spent the day with my family; and with my Grandma. And as the last video ended and I wondered what to watch next, the phone rang...
She died that evening, peacefully on January 9th, 2016 just three days shy of her 90th birthday.
I was honored to be asked by my Grandpa to deliver a eulogy for my Grandma:
I am honored to stand here today as we say goodbye to my wonderful Grandma, Ursula Irma Krakau Frisch.
In the days since Grandma stepped into the beautiful beyond I find myself hearing her words in my head. Her constant insights and advice to me through the years:
“Just Live Your Life Lindsay”
“Don’t rush it.”
“Enjoy being young.”
“You’ve got a good life.”
My Grandmother’s early life was not particularly easy or enjoyable. In fact there were parts of it that were profoundly hard. She lived through World War II, and saw her mother die and her father be forever changed by war. She and her sister, Kika escaped to West Germany and survived by good fortune and what she has always referred to as “Strong East Prussian blood”. She found a new future in Canada and started building a new life. But then endured a broken marriage and divorce before her beloved son, Victor was even two years old.
But through these trials, she developed remarkable resiliency. She learned how to be an incredible single mom with tenacity and grace in a time where she had very few peers to help guide her. She worked, she paid bills, she advocated for herself. She balanced work and motherhood and even figured out how to make sure she had fashionable clothes season to season. She was creative, persistent and unwavering her fight for a happy ending. And when she was ready, she opened her heart and let love come to her. She rebuilt herself a family when she said “yes” to spending the rest of her life with my Grandfather, Reiner.
As Grandma’s family grew, the addition of grandchildren to her life seems to have been quite possibly one of her greatest joys (if I do say so myself!)
She has loved my sister, Erin and I abundantly. She showered us with hugs, kisses, and gifts. She rarely said “no” and indulged our wild imaginations, wishes and games. She instituted a family rule “That when one has a birthday the other gets something too” Forever ensuring that celebrating your sister’s birthday wasn’t so bad and can even be fun, when there’s something in it for you! From encouraging our ginger ale & pound cake tea parties to supplying a basket full of chocolates and an unearned $5 “allowance” at every visit, to donating carrots for our defective rabbit-traps – she embraced the endearing chaos of two rambunctious grandchildren.
On the day that she died, I had decided to watch our small collection of family movies. I watched her laugh, fuss over dinner, share hugs with her family, give gifts, worry that the size of the Christmas sweater was right, and genuinely delight in the marvelous family she helped create. In one moment, in giving a card to my sister on her 10th birthday I heard her say (off camera since she preferred not to be filmed if possible!)
“From all our hearts, Erin that your future is nothing but bright.”
It never occurred to her that we couldn’t attain exactly what we set out to have. She believed in a magical future for all of us. A future unburdened by war, death, despair, divorce, and uncertainty; she knew the secret that I am only now uncovering – when we cherish what we have, we can have it ALL.
She wanted us to find the joy the way she had; even if it takes tremendous work. She wanted us to live in such a way that we savored the beauty of each moment, so that maybe, just maybe we could slow down time, and just rest in the safety and peace of something happy. Because being happy is precious indeed.
As we reflect on all Grandma shared with and taught us, and as we say goodbye, I am so thankful that I was able to introduce her to my husband, Aaron. That she was able to see that I am on my way to the big, bright, stunning life I know she believed I would have.
I am profoundly grateful to have been her granddaughter and to have her wise and loving words; “You have a Good Life” written on my heart.
L
My Help is from You
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