Often there is so much of ‘life’ that we must try to handle. There’s far too many things that confuse us. Faced with many issues beyond our control, we seldom seek the best answer. We are hoping just to survive reasonably unscathed through the latest intense conflict.
Mental illness has its unique trials. Those of us afflicted know the instability it brings us. We go from crisis-to-collapse everyday, (and sometimes even before lunch-time!) Some people have no concept of how much energy it takes just trying to appear ‘normal.’
Sometimes sadness is the best we can do. Trying to find a positive note seems empty and futile. I know a woman who must battle with pain every day. She has to manage every minute of every day with her handicap. She is a wonderful Christian, and she still exudes a gentle faith in her Savior.
We may seem cursed in this life. But Jesus died for this. His love for you is constant and sure.
Sometimes however the only way out is through. We simply must go through the many issues that face us. We must plow through such darkness, that has no precedent. We are the rescued ones, but only because he has made us so. The lost are now found. And we were really, really lost.
We go through, but not without grace. We may step through, but not without pain. So much of our confusion rides on a fascination with the ways of sin and darkness. The ways of the “dark one” may enchant us, but never fulfill us.
We can rest in that we are our Father’s foremost concern.
“He guides me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake”
We can puncture the surrounding evil by a simple decision to be faithful to Jesus.Darkness may pursue us, but it will never defeat us. We advance through this pain to the glory of God. He alone can make us triumph. Only Him.
“For I am confident of this very thing, that He who began a good work in you will perfect it until the day of Christ Jesus”
Philippians 1:6
“I do not understand the mystery of grace — only that it meets us where we are and does not leave us where it found us.”
3 Then the scribes and the Pharisees brought a woman caught in adultery, making her stand in the center. 4 “Teacher,” they said to him, “this woman was caught in the act of committing adultery. 5 In the law Moses commanded us to stone such women. So what do you say?” 6 They asked this to trap him, in order that they might have evidence to accuse him.
Jesus stooped down and started writing on the ground with his finger. 7 When they persisted in questioning him, he stood up and said to them, “The one without sin among you should be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8 Then he stooped down again and continued writing on the ground. 9 When they heard this, they left one by one, starting with the older men. Only he was left, with the woman in the center. 10 When Jesus stood up, he said to her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
11 “No one, Lord,” she answered.
John 8:3-11
I remember how Jesus defended me. I had been led through the crowds. The temple was filled with people who were there for the festival. It was a time of joy and feasting, but not for me.
Especially not for me.
The temple police escorted me to Jesus. I was now the focus of everyone’s attention. I felt dirty and ashamed. Standing there I could feel the lustful looks from the Pharisees; but there was something else as well, a look from Jesus that I had never seen before. There was compassion there, something quite extraordinary.
I’m ashamed, I committed adultery, I had slept with another man who wasn’t my husband.
I was to be stoned, to have hard rocks thrown at me by “holy” men. The Law had pronounced my guilt, and I knew how I was to be punished. And I deserved it. Yet the man who I slept with was never charged, he escaped and it was I that would be put to death. I didn’t blame him.
My shame was now public knowledge–everyone knew, the Pharisees made sure of that.
They put me front and center. They were going to test Him. They were going to destroy me.
These men who brought me had ulterior motives, they desperately hoped Jesus would stumble. I think they wanted to prove once and all to the crowds that were watching that Jesus really wasn’t the Messiah. They wanted to trap him.
Jesus seemed to understand the implications of this satanic effort.
Only Rome had the power of execution, and yet the Mosaic Law declared that I was to die. I stood waiting, expecting the worst. What else could I do?
It’s funny, but Jesus understood all of this. He seemed to look right through this theological trick, and He responded in a way that really shocked everyone. He never spoke, but bowed low and began to write in the dirt with his finger. Amidst their vicious accusations, they pressed their case.
Jesus bent down again, and he wrote some more.
I never knew what he wrote–but I had to believe it must have been something that revealed the sin in the hidden hearts of the men who were accusing me. In that moment, they quickly dropped the case against me. They all filed out, one by one, in dramatic fashion. I now stood alone with Jesus.
And it was then that Jesus looked directly at me.
I was still afraid, but it was strange, I felt a wave of peace as well. I quietly waited, not knowing what He was going to say to me. I suppose I half expected the worst.
Yes, he did confront me. But He wanted me to acknowledge that those accusing men had left. I saw it and understood. Jesus was asking me to believe that I was now really free. But then he wanted me to understand something that seemed quite crucial.
“Neither do I condemn you,” said Jesus. “Go, and from now on do not sin anymore.”
That dear one was a powerful moment. He set me free with the understanding that He did not condemn me. But my freedom from judgement came with a catch–sort of. I knew then that my sin must be renounced. My freedom came with a price. But knowing I was completely released, meant I was now a free woman.
At that moment I understood completely.
“God pardons like a mother, who kisses the offense into everlasting forgiveness.”
This is a scary list. We’re told repeatedly that love is the evidence that disciples are to be identified. Love is the blood of the body. It’s that necessary. It’s critical. We’re called to love (one another) that proves we’re real and authentic.
Some of us are handicapped, either mentally or physically. Our issues are truly formidable, very few understand.
I pretty much live in physical pain now. I struggle with depression. I have some battles that few understand. And I get terribly self-absorbed by all of it. If love is the blood of the Christian then I absolutely need a transfusion. I’m anemic. I’m the proverbial 95 pound spiritual weakling! 😁
“Love one another.” I believe I’m missing this in my spiritual walk. For the most part I operate as “to tolerate one another.” It’s easy to love those who love me, but that’s not how discipleship to Jesus works. He wants us to find enemies to love. (At least I think it does.)
Our Teacher, the Holy Spirit, knows how ignorant we really are. But He is patient and oh so very kind. He has lessons that fit us and our needs. I want to love (usually) and I’m counting on Him to tutor me. How do I do this?
You learn to love by loving.
A few things (I know it’s a terribly incomplete list):
To love you must walk in discernment. Learn to “see” the needs of specific people. Contrary to church opinion, discernment is not to pass judgement on another, rather it’s all about seeing needs. Not everyone can do this.
To love takes availability. You need to be “ready for use.” This takes a certain amount of skill. I’m a terrible kind of introvert. Sometimes I won’t answer the phone or go to a home group. I sorta resent it. The Spirit keeps putting me in spots that require interaction with others, and I hate it.
Love creates humility in us (which takes some doing). As I learn to love I find myself stripped down and washing somebody’s feet. I become a servant who is learning to scrub between the toes if that’s what it takes.
To love you must love others just like Jesus loves you. (Yikes!) “The extra mile,” all of that. So tell me, how much has He loved you? Isn’t that supposed to teach you something? Remember, love is a fruit of Him living inside of you.
To love creates growing joy. This joy will protect us from legalism. When joy is operational every burden is light–we do our tasks smiling. I heard a preacher speak about J.O.Y. Jesus, Others, and You. In order of importance.
To love is to learn how to pray. Intercession is like oxygen to a fire. It’s like one of those old fashioned bellows to a sputtering flame. It pumps air into the pile of twigs and wood to spread the fire and ignite a blaze. We pray and love starts spreading.
To live with hard mental and physical issues as an authentic Christian is profoundly difficult. We get so self-absorbed at times. But being a disciple of love isn’t just for healthy believers, it’s also for us who struggle.
Grace is increased exponentially to those of us with deep physical problems.
I totally believe this. God takes special care as He works on and in us. We can count on Him to give us the extra attention we need as we learn love.
I’ve found that suffering is like learning another language. Changed by His love we are speaking to others in a way they understand. We can communicate with others because we’ve learned how to “speak their language.” We have been taught by God to speak into broken lives because we’ve been broken too.
Gentleness means recognizing that the world around us is fragile, especially in the lives of other people. It is recognizing our own capacity to do harm, and yet choosing rather to be tender, soft-spoken, soft-hearted, and careful.
To be careful means that you are becoming aware.
Perhaps this idea of becoming careful brings us closest to the idea. People who know exactly their own flaws become the most gentle of human beings. They are aware and now live for others, showing deep-seated care for even the “least.” We need people like this to become our elders and pastors.
Their authority looks wonderfully dressed in gentleness. Perhaps that kindness is far more important than preaching ability or administrative prowess? The best pastors I have known are those who are aware of others and who are therefore gentle and careful when touching another person’s heart and soul.
Jesus is gentle, just as much as He is strong, and wise and bold.
You could say He was always gentle, even when He was bold and authoritative. Not once did Jesus show unkindness in His words or teaching or actions. Grasping this is the work of a lifetime. (Matthew 11:28-30.)
He was kind all the time, even when He was tired and hungry. And even when He confronted the hard-hearted Pharisees. Perhaps, when angered, it was directed at the sin which was destroying people. Maybe?
“He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle. Finally he will cause justice to be victorious. And his name will be the hope of all the world.”
Matthew 12:20-21, NLT
Some quotes:
“The meek man is not a human mouse afflicted with a sense of his own inferiority. Rather he may be in his moral life as bold as a lion and as strong as Samson, but he has stopped being fooled about himself. He has accepted God’s estimate of his own life. He knows he is as weak and helpless as God declared him to be, but paradoxically, he knows at the same time that he is in the sight of God of more importance than angels. In himself, nothing; in God, everything. That is his motto.”
A.W. Tozer
“The higher people are in the favor of God, the more tender they are.”
Martin Luther
“Perhaps no grace is less prayed for, or less cultivated than gentleness. Indeed it is considered rather as belonging to natural disposition or external manners, than as a Christian virtue; and seldom do we reflect that not to be gentle is sin.”
Norman Bethune
“Gentleness is an active trait, describing the manner in which we should treat others. Meekness is a passive trait, describing the proper Christian response when others mistreat us.”
