God is Good

The phrase “God is good” has become a popular tagline on social media.  We’ve all seen it: “Got a new job.  God is good!”  “Test results came back.  God is good!” And, of course, my personal favorite, “Expecting a baby [insert date 6 months from now].  God is good!” Maybe it’s just me, but something about the pairing of good news with the phrase “God is good” makes me cringe.  What if you hadn’t gotten the job?  What if the test results had been different?  What if it had been six years, not six months, and you still didn’t have that baby?  Would God still be good?

Of course He still would be good; of course He still IS good.  I honestly don’t think anyone means to imply differently in typing those three little words.  But the teacher in me, the writer in me, the thinker in me has never been comfortable with this seemingly cause-and-effect relationship that has been perpetuated on social media.  God’s goodness is not an “if…then” statement.   It’s an eternal, unshakable, absolute fact: God is good.  All the time!

Exactly a year ago, my husband and I began a round of fertility treatments.  We were slow movers in this area and it wasn’t a process we undertook lightly.  We truly sought God’s will; we had waited, we had prayed, and we felt strongly that it was time to take this step.  For the first time in months and perhaps even years, I allowed myself to believe I could actually become pregnant; we checked dates, discussed names, and dreamt dreams we had both tried our best to push aside. 

All the while, I knew that the chances were still slim, that nothing about our situation had truly changed, and most likely we would be let down again.  For this reason, we didn’t share this part of our journey publicly; we wanted to be able to deal with the disappointment in our own way.  When it was all said and done and we were faced with the fact that our arms would remain empty, there was still a truth I held onto: God is good.           

So often, we question God.  Why does one person wait, miss out, or suffer while another is blessed?  How does He decide?  Is it even Him doing the deciding?  Does it matter?  I’ve decided that it doesn’t.  I don’t need to know.  All I need to know is this: God IS good.  And if we all got what we wanted, what we think we deserve, would I be so sure?  I think not.  Sometimes all we’ve got is the comfort of His goodness, but in those moments, that is more than enough.  It’s those moments that make us who we are and those are also the moments that make God who He is.

A few days ago, a photo appeared on my Timehop app that took me right back to those long winter months a year ago.  In an effort to keep my head on straight through those weeks, I had compiled some Bible verses to read daily and saved them as an image on my phone:

As desperately as I wanted God to answer my prayer, I was also desperate to hold onto the truth of who He was, no matter how things turned out.  I’m thankful for the way He has been good to me the past few years, even when that goodness was all I had to hold onto.  No surprises, no announcements, no earth shattering news from above… but yet God is good.  And I’m thankful. 

The Only Plan that Matters

Things rarely work out the way you plan.   Usually when I hear this cliché, I think of a lesson plan, a family dinner, an event at church, perhaps.  Yes, there are always kinks, always bumps in the road.  It’s always a good idea to come with Plan A as well as Plan B and C, and usually, one way or the other, things work out.  But what about when the kinks and the bumps sum up not just an hour, an evening, or a day, but your entire life, and you’ve exhausted plan A, B, and C? 

We, especially we women, love to be in control.  So when life flies off the tracks, it drives us nuts.  We spend our whole lives planning our lives, sometimes at the expense of actually living.  This is especially true at the holidays.  The photo on the Christmas card has to look just right, all the perfect presents must be bought, wrapped, and arranged under the carefully decorated tree, every party must be attended (and sometimes planned) with a smile, and there better be delicious baked goods sitting out on the kitchen counter at all times. 

I resolved to have a better attitude about Christmas this year and I did until about two days ago when I hit a wall- now, if I make one more trip to Target, bake one more batch of cookies, or have to address one more card to someone I almost forgot, I may scream.  I soaked up December and all that entails for the first three weeks, even enjoying the aroma of my fresh cut tree.  But now, just at the time when I should be able to enjoy things most, I just feel done, spent, exhausted...and I can’t wait to take down that tree.

“What’s the point?” I ask myself.  It’s easier to muster up some enthusiasm at school or church for those excited little faces at my class party or in the Christmas play, but here in my living room, this sleeping dog at my feet has no idea what happens two days from now.  But as soon as I ask myself why I should even bother, I glance at my mantel and see the nativity scene and remind myself THAT’S the point.  I also remind myself that this “nativity scene” that has become so commonplace to us was anything but common.  It couldn’t have been Mary’s Plan A, B, or C for that Christmas, but as always, God’s plan was best of all. 

We read the first couple of chapters of Luke in the Bible this time of year and we picture this nativity scene and smile at its familiarity.  However, to Mary, the position she had found herself in was anything but familiar.  She had to have felt many of the emotions so many of us experience this time of year to a much larger degree: overwhelmed, doubtful, afraid, maybe even disappointed that her own plans didn’t work out.  However, above all, she felt awe for God’s love for both her and the generations to come, love that was manifested through that precious baby boy. 

It seems simple to us now, but to Mary that night, it had to have seemed anything but simple.  Such is true for our own for own lives when we hit those kinks, those bumps in the road.  The question is: how will we handle it?  Will we kick, scream, and fight God’s plan every step of the way because, above all else, we want to be in control?  Or will we handle challenges with dignity, as Mary did, and embark bravely on the journey God has planned for us?

Luke 2:19 reads, “But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart.” (NIV)  I like The Message version even better; it reads like this: “Mary kept all these things to herself, holding them dear, deep within herself.”  It’s okay to make plans, to have dreams, to hold them in our hearts.  That’s part of what makes us human; God created us so He understands.  But may we remember, as Mary did, that the only plan that matters in the end is the one that glorifies God.  And may we hold that deep within our hearts, this Christmas, and always.

Barren

This has to be my least favorite word in the English language.  At the same time, I’m drawn to it.  Every time I’ve heard it spoken or seen it written the past few years, I’ve stopped dead in my tracks, trying it on for size.  Does it really describe me?  Is that who I am?  Has there ever been a word more empty, more haunting, sharper in truth?

The teacher in me loves my Merriam-Webster dictionary app.  I usually use it for school purposes, but it also comes in handy on a personal level.  I’ve probably typed in this six-letter word more than any other, seeking to understand more about how I feel inside.  There is a long definition but one line always jumps out at me and grabs at my heart: “devoid, lacking.” 

Devoid is defined as “being without a usual, typical, or expected attribute,” and we all know what lacking means.  We’ve all felt this way in some aspect of our life at one time or another- not good enough…left out…inferior.  Sometimes there’s something we can do about it: try harder, change our circumstances, focus on a different aspect of our lives.  But what happens when you HAVE tried your hardest, the circumstances are truly out of your control and you’re still devoid and lacking in the one aspect of life that everyone is MOST focused on (and for good reason)?  What happens when you can’t escape the painful reminder that you ARE devoid and lacking…because there it is, all the time: on your Facebook feed, in every lunch table conversation, on the aisles of Target, on TV, in magazines, at every dreaded family reunion, even in the pages of your Bible when all you’re seeking is some comfort and wisdom?

I’ve often complained to my husband that no one understands the pain that comes with infertility (unless they’ve been there) and he, being a man of true faith, always points me back to God.  “There are reasons we can’t see,” “God really does care,” “He can fill this hole in your heart if you’ll just let Him…” Brent always has all the “right” answers but in these moments, I am rarely in a state to listen fairly.  There is also a noun form of the word “barren,” meaning "a track of barren land."  Under synonyms for this form of the word is the term “no-man’s-land.”  I’m sure Brent would wholeheartedly agree. 

However, thanks both to these nudges from my husband and to my deep-seated faith that remains even in my most seemingly faithless moments, I have often turned to the Bible (in addition to but so much more importantly than my dictionary app) for clarity.  There is one passage in the Bible that begins with that six-letter word and ends with the most important promise we need to remember.  It doesn’t matter how hard we try or how difficult our circumstances are; it really IS all about focus. 

“ ‘Sing, barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor; because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband,’ says the Lord.”  (Isaiah 54:1) …“Do not be afraid; you will not be put to 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 54:4-5)

I can’t say that I’m singing about this yet and I’m not sure I ever will.  I don’t feel a shout of joy coming on and I’m a little confused about how I’ll ever have “more” children than anyone else despite all this, even figuratively.  However, I do feel afraid sometimes, and I know that disgrace and humiliation all too well.  Those references confirm to me that these Words are real, true and applicable.  And I also know my Maker, the Lord Almighty, the Holy One who IS my Redeemer.  I know that He IS God of all the earth, including this little life I call my own.  In truth, my life is His, just like everything else, and He truly does know best. 

I get a little glimpse of this truth every day when twenty-some kids call me “Mrs. Jones,” even if not one will ever call me “Mom.” I remember these facts when I’m serving at church, working with the youth and the kids, doing things I may not have time to do if I had two or three little ones by now.  I am reminded of His perfect plan every time that darn near perfect husband of mine takes a deep breath and explains how much he loves me (no matter what!) one more time, as patiently as the first time I questioned him.  I feel peace flood my heart when God speaks to me through a friend, someone whom He so obviously has placed in my path deliberately. His redemption comes in many forms.  We just have to look for it.

When I look at the people and opportunities God HAS blessed me with, I feel anything but devoid and lacking.  Perhaps I could be defined by that empty, haunting, and sharp word: “barren,” but that doesn’t mean it has to define me.

Only Let Us Live

I've always been a countdown person.  How many days until summer?  How many months until graduation?  How many weeks until I get married?  I faithfully kept up with answers to questions like this for the first twenty-some years of my life, always waiting on the next big event.  As a teacher, it’s been so tempting to live my life from quarter to quarter and school year to school year, always waiting on this part to be over and the next part to begin. 

Until one countdown, perhaps the most important countdown in life, didn't pan out…the one where I counted down until Brent and I would start our family.  We decided on a month and I patiently waited, counting off my last birthday before I got pregnant, our last big trip before kids, the last school year I wouldn't be balancing my own child with twenty-some children at school.  However, soon I realized that this countdown was in God’s control, not mine.  As the months ticked by, it became evident that I very well may have been counting down to nothing.  And that’s exactly what it felt like: a big, black hole of nothing that threatened to swallow me alive if I didn't change my perspective (and fast).

I wish I could say that I am a fast learner, but this change in perspective has taken years (and a lot of help from God and those He’s placed in my life) to fully develop.  Now, more than four years past when this countdown was supposed to be over, I realize that it’s not about a countdown at all.  Nothing is.  For those first twenty-something years of my life, I had it all wrong.  Life isn't about that next big event or what happens next.  It’s about today and what’s happening now.

I believe Philippians 3:16 says it best: “Only let us live up to what we have already attained.”  Not what we might attain one day- what we have already attained!  We already have all we need in Christ Jesus.  We already are who He intended us to be.  Today.  Not maybe one day.  Now.

So I’m done with countdowns.  Who I may or may not be one day, what I may or may not have eventually, where I could possibly be weeks, months, years from now…none of that is a guarantee.  What matters is who He says I am today…first and foremost a follower of Him, but so many other things as well…a wife, a teacher, a friend...  That’s what this blog is about: being the best I can be today, for Him and for whomever He places in my path. 

I pray it will inspire someone to do the same...