"You Only Need to Resist for a Little Bit"

Photo Credit: Slagheap, Creative Commons, cc

  "You only need to resist for a little bit," a friend said recently. "Delay, hold off. Resist the temptation for that instant gratification, and often that's all it takes. The temptation dissipates."

He's wise, and there was something battle-scarred and proven in that open declaration.

It rang true to me, and I found myself nodding. It's true, isn't it? Whether it's a thought pattern I'm wrestling with, or the lie that This _____ will fill that need, or anything else we battle with, we recognize where it starts. Training ourselves in battle-worthy rigors to resist, to stop and stare straight into the face of the Bold Claim, arms us. Asking myself, Will this truly be harmless? Will this really fill that longing? Will this food/this act/this conversation/this Thing truly solve my needs?

Because we all have those whispers that come to us unbidden. Whether it's a lie we believe about ourselves, an attitude we convince ourselves is justified, a food craving, or a dangerous compromise that seems inconsequential at first... we all have those whispers that shiver up the spine.

It came to my mind this week. His statement that grabbed me then. "You only need to resist for a while. Delay, hold it off. Resist the temptation and often that's all it takes to disappear," he said with a wry shake of his head, the skirmishes still fresh in his mind.

And while you wait, while you breathe and hold on tight, wrap your mind with truth, please? I'm guessing you know the truths our Ally and Protector is whispering to you already, but if you need reminders, feel free to browse some here with me.

- "Is God Forced Into It?"
- "Chased"
- "Why You Are Never Too Old"
- "He Surprised Me"
- "Tacos, Rescues, and Lovers"
- "How to Melt an Angry Heart"
- "Five Seconds Away from Joy, Better Health, and Peace of Mind" 
- "You Had Me at Avocados" 

This is some of the truth I'm wrapping my mind in this week. What are you? I'd love to hear and learn from you too, friend. (Those in email can click here to join the conversation.)

What's in the Way of Your Beauty?

It wasn't so much that I saw beauty then, but I was clearing the way for it.

That's the way, isn't it? I sat cross-legged in the chilly grass and dug my hands into the matted brown weeds. Several grass heads slid easily into my hands, but the roots remained firmly in place.

The flower bed had been stunning this spring. Crimson, magenta, and lemony tulips bobbed in the breeze, and a few clumsy dopple-headed violet aliums stood high in the back. Throughout the summer, the spring bulbs browned and withered, but white shasta daisies and purple coral bells frilled in their place. Since September, though, -- late-August really-- my husband had noticed that it was mostly the weeds that stood tall now.

"Um, Jen, we've been mowing around your weed bed lately," he laughed wryly. "Can you fix that?"

I meant to, and even pulled out the largest, most prominent weeds, but I didn't have time to tackle the dirt itself. It sat, and the bed grew tangled. September and October were busy until this last week. Other projects grabbed my energy and focus, and the flower bed fell to my October To-Do list.

"Right after the retreats," I told myself.

Yesterday was the day. I grabbed my shovel, hoe and trowel, and headed outside. Up close, the matted bed was worse than I remembered. Tiny roots had grown large, snaking deep around healthy plants, dwarfing them, and stealing their nutrients. The weeds were thick and well-established. My hands alone weren't enough to pry them out. Grabbing my pitchfork, I sank my weight into the ground, getting deep into the soil, where the roots clung the hardest.

So often, our inner lives can sink into disarray too, huh? Putting off the heavy tasks of processing, working through, and getting to the deep roots of an issue or sin, we can simply focus on the most pressing tasks at hand. Saying "I'll think about that later," or "I'll tackle that issue when life gets calmer," we instead allow some weeds to gain strong footings, sinking roots deep.

With cold weary hands in the dirt yesterday, the irony was not lost on me either, and I tugged fiercely at spindly brown plants while asking God to tug out the ugly in me too. We both worked hard.

My front flower bed? The soil is now soft, ready. The weeds are gone. Current purple coral bells once again have unhindered room to develop, and space is cleared for new growth. Check back next spring, will you? There is life hiding right under the surface.

It wasn't so much that I saw beauty then, but I was clearing the way for it.


(And counting, always counting gifts with Ann.)

Art credit to Daniel Rozin, Wooden Mirror.

My Sixteen Year Old Son Writes a Letter Back through Time

In cramped angular letters on blue lined notebook paper, my son wrote a letter to a young single mom.

This woman received nothing but judgment and scorn from the people in her town. Alone for three years in a new frontiers town with no word from her husband, she feared he was dead. Finding friendship in a gentle man, they fell into temptation and into an affair. Found out to be with child, the town erupted against her.

Are you familiar with this story? Set in New England in the 1700s, Nathaniel Hawthorn, author of The Scarlet Letter, paints a sad stern picture of Puritan values. Different from the humbly beautiful Puritan works that I have seen, Hawthorn must have seen only strict legalism and a fear of revealing personal shortcomings. His Puritan leaders hide their own sin, shame others, and seem to know nothing of redemption and forgiveness.

Hester Prynne, the single mother, and her daughter lived on the outskirts of town. Hester was forever forced to wear a large embroidered A for adultery, and her daughter grew up chased and shunned by neighbor children, morphing into a fearfully broken and bitter child.

This American Literature book that my son and I are reading aloud together for school is so sad. We break from reading and burst out into discussions of what should be happening instead of what is happening in the story.

"John," I finally said this week. "Write Hester Prynne a letter. That's your assignment for today. Tell her all the things God would be telling her... about how people are treating her here, about how God sees us, and about the hope she can have."

Grumbling a little bit about his homschooling mom's odd assignments, he nevertheless grabbed a notebook and headed downstairs to the quiet of his room. Later he emerged with this letter (and gave me permission to use it).

Hi Hester, 

I'm sorry for how people treat you. I feel bad when I read about when people make fun of you and ridicule you for what you did. It makes me annoyed when they keep talking about your sin and act themselves as if they are holy. It's so stupid. Everyone has sin and falls short of the glory of God. 

When that happens in life and when people ridicule you, always remember that they're not perfect either. When you see other people, don't think on what they have done to you or can do to you, but think on how much God loves them, just like he loves you. Think of them as other sinners that God loves and that they're not any better than you. 

Also remember that God can bring glory and goodness out of sin. What you did was sin! But God can overcome that sin and make it into a rainbow with every color showing off God's awesomeness and forgiveness. And also remember that God is the perfect father for your daughter and yourself. 

Sincerely, 

John

Wow! What fun to see my son understanding glimpses into God's huge redemptive character. He's right too that we all wrestle with sin.

Sometimes we Christians still fall into a trap of thinking that we need to look as if our acts are all together and that we have no sin. The truth is we all have sin and junk in our lives that God is working on in us. Our scarlet letters may vary per day. Today my letters were C for critical spirit, U for ungrateful, I for impatient, and Q for quarrelsome.

Thankfully when I bring these letters to God and ask my Abba Daddy for forgiveness, he gives it lavishly. Then, he strips off my letters and throws them away.

Extravagant love. Lavish grace. Wild second and third and fourth chances... Dear Hester Prynne...

What about you? I'm so glad you are here right now. What are you thinking about today? What letters did God strip off you today?