Of Picky Little Differences, Thin Ice, and the Power of Positive Thinking

Generally speaking, I am not a nit-picker. Yes, it's true that sometimes tiny details matter, like minus signs in algebra problems and decimal points in my bank balance. But whenever possible, and especially in matters of communication, I prefer let picky little differences go. Even if we don't have every tiny bit of grammar or nuance of vocabulary perfectly right, I trust that we can all understand each others' intentions and make meaning of what we are trying to say.

So when I read this devotion the other night, I was immediately put off.

In a nutshell, the writer suggests that in our prayers, rather than asking God for things, we should instead believe that He has already given those things to us, and simply thank him for what we have received.

Here's an excerpt to show exactly what she means:

State your prayers as affirmations:

• God is my Light and my Salvation (rather than “Be my light …”).
• The Lord of life walks with me (rather than “Please walk with me”).
• Healing Presence, you bring me strength (rather than “Please bring me strength”).
• I am a channel of God’s loving-kindness (rather than “Help me be a channel …”).

Hmm. Yeah. At first, the whole idea just sounded like a picky little point of semantics to me. At first.

But the idea intrigued me enough that I decided to give it a try. Really, what could it hurt me to try, right?

BAM. I noticed a difference immediately.

Suddenly, my usual prayer requests for what God might do:

please help this person,
please give that person your peace,
please bring your healing to this person,
please give that person your strength and protection

were transformed into prayer certainties and thank-yous for what God is already doing:

thank you for helping that person
thank you for giving that person your peace,
thank you for bringing your healing to this person,
thank you for giving that person your strength and protection.

This was not some silly exercise in semantics. This was a bold theological move that changes the way I see God's work in the world and the power of my prayers.

And now when I pray, I no longer feel like I am carefully sliding my feet out onto the thin ice of a frozen lake, unsure of whether God will support my hopes and dreams, or if His plans for the world will cause the fragile ice of my requests to crack under my feet.

Now I am sweetly reminded by my own words and prayerful thoughts that God is wayyyyy out ahead of me, and I can be sure that every step I take is strongly grounded in His love.

Of Feelings, Principles, and Train Cars

Two little digital tidbits crossed my path today, and they both tap into the root of an idea that has been growing in my brain for several weeks now.

First, I ran across this quote in my Facebook feed:

“Love is misunderstood to be an emotion; actually, it is a state of awareness, a way of being in the world, a way of seeing oneself and others.” - David R. Hawkins


Literally, two minutes later, I found this video in my email and watched it. Check it out...I promise it's an interesting little story.

And thirdly, here is what has been on my mind lately:


Our feelings, valid though they might be, are not the most important things in life. 


Despite what our culture and our stubborn little hearts might have us believe, making choices in life based our feelings is not a good idea. As our feelings may change from week to week, day to day, even sometimes minute to minute, they do not provide a stable foundation for our lives. Feelings are the fluttering leaves that grow and change, fail and fall, catching breezes and laying still, responsive to whatever winds may blow.

Yvonne Seiwell

Jennifer Berkenbosch

Principles matter more than emotions. 

Representing our own sense of truth and morality, whether taught to us by our elders or divined from within our own minds, principles are solid and unchanging. No matter what our momentary feelings or mood of the day, our principles hold us firmly in place as the turbulent winds of life swirl and blow around us. Principles are the deep underground roots that anchor and give strength to the tree of our lives.

Tom Brown

Angela Vandenbogaard

Bringing all three of these trains of thought together (and promptly switching metaphors), I hooked them up and here is what I got:

Chuckman

Two of the most universally valued feelings in the range of human emotions, love and forgiveness, are actually not feelings at all. They are principles.

David Hawkins makes it pretty clear that love is not the fluttery rush you feel in your stomach when you meet your beloved at the altar, nor is it the blinding adoration and grizzly-level protectiveness you feel for your precious newborn. Trust me, those feeling will fade. Your spouse may leave wet towels on the bathroom floor every day of your married life, and that sweet infant may some day glare at you, mutter unpleasant things under his breath and stomp out of the house. The truth is that love is needed most at the times when we honestly don't feel like loving. That's the whole point of love - to hold us in relationship with others, even when we don't feel like it. To endure, love must be based on principles rather than emotions.

As for forgiveness, Miroslav Volf's poignant story makes it clear that genuine forgiveness is not about sweetly accepting an apology when someone breaks your teacup or misses a lunch date. Full-blown, gut-wrenching forgiveness, the kind that is needed when your drug-addicted parents abandon you to be raised by grandparents, or your child is accidentally killed by some kind-hearted soldiers, is not a feeling. In fact, forgiveness is needed most at the times when we honestly don't feel like forgiving. That's the whole point of forgiveness - to hold us in relationship to others, even when we don't feel like it. To heal us, forgiveness must be based on principles rather than emotions.

If it feels good, do it. 

Remember who you are and what you stand for. 

Of Donkeys and Palm Branches

Yesterday was Palm Sunday, the day that marks the opening chapter of Holy Week, the Christian story of Jesus' death and resurrection. The adventure starts out like this:

After three years of ministry that changed lives and astonished many, Jesus returned to Jerusalem to celebrate the Passover. He was given a hero's welcome by the throngs of people who met him as he rode into town.

{Each of the four Gospels mentions this event, which is significant because it is rare for all four writers to mention the same event in Jesus' life and to describe it the same way.}


{A gospel is any account of Jesus's life on earth. The most widely known Gospels are found in four books of the Christian bible, called Matthew, Mark, Luke and John.}

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Three interesting tidbits about Palm Sunday:

1. Jesus rode a donkey as he made his way into town. In that time and place, the donkey was a symbol of peace. Jesus' choice to ride that animal, rather than a horse which was viewed as an animal of war, may tell us something about his mindset and gentle intentions.

2. The people of Jerusalem lined the streets to welcome him, laying their cloaks and palm or rush leaves on the road ahead of Jesus. It was customary in those times to cover the path of a person of great honor, so this may tell us something about the crowd's respect and desire to honor him.

3. In Christian churches today, including mine, it's tradition to pass out real palm leaves to all the worshipers on Palm Sunday, so that we can share in the sense of celebration and praise. Like the people of Jerusalem, we wave our palm leaves and call out, "Hosannah!"

{"Hosannah" means "Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord." It's from Psalm 118.}

This year, for a variety of complicated reasons, my family and I are celebrating Holy Week at home. On Palm Sunday, my daughter found these daylily leaves to stand in for our palm branches, and they worked out quite nicely.

Hosannah!

Of Desert Cliffs, Temptation and Money

Today I was challenged to think about temptation. Recalling the time that Jesus spent in the wilderness, wrestling with his own demons, Lent is a time for Christians to sort through their lives and look clearly at the places where temptations lie. 

My goal was to draw a picture that shows what tempts me most. I had a couple thoughts in mind about my inner temptations, but I decided to focus first on setting the scene. I used most of my page to draw a golden cliff (with purple shadows along its flank) rising up out of a flat red desert.That dark blue speck on the edge of the cliff is me. As I was working along, I drew the bubble that would eventually show my greatest temptation, but I purposely left it blank till the very end. 

When the rest of the drawing was complete, I grabbed a pencil and quickly drew in the first thing that came to mind in the temptation category.

Money.

Interesting.

I think of myself as a person who normally does not worry too much about money. It has a way of coming and going all on its own, and I have learned to trust it to work itself out.

And I think of myself as a person who can live quite happily without any major extravagances. We all need a little money, but I don't think that I need a lot.

So I was surprised that when I thought about temptation, money leaped into my mind.

Maybe it's because I am at a turning point in my life where money is at a minimum and opportunity is at a maximum.  Part of me is tempted to worry about money and to limit my dreams accordingly, but another voice urges me to push on and never let money (or the lack thereof) hold me back.

Right now, I'm not sure which is the wiser voice. But I think I better pay close attention to how money, and the temptation of money, is working in my life.

Of Monkeys, Grace and the Hunger Games

On Thursday, I woke up thinking about grace.

To be honest, I had a dream about it. And I would like to tell you about the dream. But isn't that one of the most frustrating and annoying experiences in life - to listen to someone going on about something they dreamed??

"Well, it was LIKE my old grade school but inside it was more like a shopping mall. And my kindergarten crush was there, but he had a beard and a pet monkey. He asked me, 'Why are you wearing pajamas to school?' I looked down and realized he was right!! I was wearing one-piece footie Barney pajamas at school...so embarrassing! I tried to run away from him but it was like my feet were buried in wet cement. I couldn't move so I just stood there and cried. Then his monkey offered me a Kleenex." 

You can find pictures of ANYTHING on the internet. It fascinates me beyond words. 
Photo by Indiadee in Happy in Hampi

So I promise to leave out all the wonky bits and just cut to the point.

First, the back story:

The past few days, I've been dealing with some frustrating situations. These are not life and death problems; honestly, there have been no serious offenses and no big harm done. No need for apologies or heavy duty forgiveness.

The best way I can describe these situations is that they make me feel like someone is taking a giant piece of sandpaper and slowly, even somewhat gently, rubbing it over me. I'm irritated. I feel scratchy and annoyed and really fed up.

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Now here's where the dream comes in.


In my dream, I was talking to one of my sandpaper-y people. And sure enough, I was getting that scratchy, uncomfortable feeling that I have been suffering in real life. But in the dream, as I listened to this person, it slowly dawned on me that all the annoying and irritating words coming out of her mouth have also bounced around in my brain. Word for word. She was quoting my own thoughts, and in doing so, reminding me that I am no different from the people who annoy me.


Which means...I am annoying too.


Wow. Good solid slap across the face.


And when I woke up, I realized what I need to feel better. 

Grace. 

To me, grace is that tender quality of seeing the best in others and choosing to believe it, no matter what. It's that gentle, kind feeling that we all crave, that tells us that everything is going to be alright. 

But here is the slippery thing about grace: we all want it. But we can't get it. We can only give it.

In his fine book, Wishful Thinking, Frederick Buechner says it like this: 

Grace is something you can never get but can only be given. there's no way to earn it or deserve it or bring it about any more than you can deserve the taste of raspberries and cream or earn good looks or bring about you own birth.

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And this quote nails it too:

Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle. -Philo

I hunger for grace for my own life. 


And on this day before the movie premiere of The Hunger Games, I found myself thinking a lot about hunger. In this red hot book-turned-movie, hunger refers to the literal lack of food suffered by most citizens of the post-apocalyptic nation of Panem. Chosen teens, known as 'tributes' are selected from every food-deprived distitrict of the country, and forced to fight to the death in the Hunger Games. While this annual last-man-standing competition provides an extra measure of food for the victor's home district, it mostly serves to amuses the citizens of the capital and reminds everyone of who's in charge.  Our hero, young Katniss, boldly takes on the challenge and eventually satisfies her hunger for food as well as justice.

It's a really solid story. 

And while the word 'hunger' in the title may be a reference to our need for food, on this day, it reminded me over and over that in this life, we hunger for much more than food. 

We hunger for love.

We hunger for acceptance. 

We hunger, maybe most of all, for grace. 

But we can't reach out and take it. We can only offer it to others and trust that they will offer it back to us.


Amen.

On Apples, God and the Question of How Much Slices Change Things

"Hmm,but 0f what I kn0w between christian n islam is n0,we're n0t the same g0d, christian believe in 3 g0d n muslim is 0nly 1 allah/g0d.. S0, that's n0t the same kak diane:-)"

Well, now I was in a pickle, wasn't I. In the midst of a pleasant conversation with my Muslim friend, Spidey, about our shared love of the one true God/Allah, he had raised up the mysterious Christian concept of the Holy Trinity. 

This idea is central to Christian beliefs, but it's also notoriously difficult to grasp. It's challenging enough for adults to wrap their minds around the idea that God is three distinct persons in one, but I've also had the honor and bewildering problem of trying to explain this notion to children. After multiple goes and a lot of trial and error, I've hit upon the following metaphor which works about as well as anything. 

Imagine you have two red apples in front of you. They both look quite the same. 

Now imagine taking a knife and cutting one of those apples in half, from top to bottom. What you see now is still an apple, but it looks a bit different. Looking at this cut side of the apple, you can see the tiny edge of the red outer layer, and you can also see all the white crispy part. At the very center, you can see the seeds too.

Is this apple now three different things? No. It is one thing with three distinct parts.

Is it fundamentally different from an uncut apple? Nope - even though it's been cut in two, it's still an apple, just as it was before.

So. In simplest terms, Christians see God as a cut apple. Muslims see him as Allah, the uncut apple.

How much does one single slice change our God?

In my heart and in my mind, this is what I believe: an apple is an apple. Let's live in peace.

Of Father Abraham's Many Sons

Father Abraham had many sons

And many sons had Father Abraham
And I am one of them
And so are you
So let's all praise the Lord.


This cute little song has been rattling through my head lately. Coupled with a set of increasingly kooky body movements, it has captured the imagination of Christian Sunday School children for generations. Besides being a lot of crazy physical fun, it conveys a spiritual sense of "we're all in this together" that builds Christian brotherhood and sisterhood among baby believers. 


Which is good and proper.


But in truth, that song isn't just about Christians. 


Father Abraham's sons include the brotherhood and sisterhood of Judaism, Christianity and Islam. We are all Father Abraham's children. 

Sacrifice of Isaac by his Father Abraham. Yikes.

That innocent little song reminds us that God's plan is for us to live in peace.


Yes, I know there are differences between these three faiths. Some are small, some are huge and seemingly insurmountable differences.  And generally speaking, our respective cultures reinforce those mutually exclusive differences and admonish its followers to remember that everyone cannot be right.


I acknowledge and respect those differences. And only God knows the truth about His plan for His creation.  But I'm much more interested in what brings us together. 


As Jew, Muslim or Christian, we all love the one and only true God, who goes by many names but cares for each of us with a deep abiding love, and has a plan for our salvation.


In response to that love, we all express our faith and share our lives with other believers by: 

• gathering together
• praising God
• reading sacred texts
• encouraging each other 
• praying together
• offering gifts
• fasting for deepened spirituality
• caring for the poor
• building community together.

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All three faiths love the same God.  The God of Abraham.

All three faiths believe in one true God. 
All three faiths trust in this loving, wise, constant God to guide us and help us live our lives according to His wisdom.


These common bonds matter to me.  Although I practice my Christian faith with a full heart, and understand God's love for us through the image of the cross, I appreciate the fact that had I been born to a different family, in another part of the world, I might be keeping kosher or wearing hijab at this very moment.  Accepting other people's way of expressing faith in our shared God does not mean I compromise my own principles;  it means that I am trying to love as God does.


So I choose to love all of Abraham's children. 
And I am one of them. And so are you. So let's all praise the Lord.  



{It's with a certain sense of irony that I offer this video of the Father Abraham song being sung by United States Marines. I'm not making a statement about Christian domination, military control over religion, or American colonialism. I just think it's a really fun version of the song.}