To Love and Be Loved

Henri Nouwen was a man with an impressive resume.  He was a Dutch Catholic priest, professor, theologian, and author of 39 books and hundreds of articles.  As a professor, he taught for two decades at schools such as the University of Notre Dame, Yale, and Harvard.  His classrooms were distinguished by standing room-only crowds of students and waiting lists to register for his classes, sometimes for years..

But at the height of his career, he left Harvard and chose to work with people who had intellectual and developmental disabilities at the L'Arche Daybreak residential community in Canada.  And it was there--in that unexpected venue-- that he discovered something even more profound about himself.   

In his book In the Name of Jesus: Reflections on Christian Leadership, compiled three years after his death in 1996, Nouwen details the radical change he experienced his last ten years of life:

"The first thing that struck me when I came to live in a house with mentally handicapped people was that their liking and disliking me had absolutely nothing to do with the many useful things I had done until then. Since nobody could read my books, the books could not impress anyone, and since most of them never went to school, my twenty years at Notre Dame, Yale, and Harvard did not provide a significant introduction. . . . Not being able to use any of the skills that had proved so practical in the past was a real source of anxiety. I was suddenly faced with my naked self, open for affirmations and rejections, hugs and punches, smiles and tears, all dependent simply on how I was perceived at the moment. In a way, it seemed as though I was starting my life all over again. Relationships, connections, reputations could no longer be counted on."

He lived among vulnerable people who had no idea they were labeled as "disabled," some of whom could not speak, get dressed by themselves, or able to wipe their own faces.  He learned how to serve even when unnoticed or pushed away, or without needing any greater accolade than an occasional hug.  Despite being highly applauded in the past, Henri finally realized love is not earned. He was seen, heard, and immeasurably loved just for himself. Henri discovered in their midst something much deeper going on.  He learned the truth of Luke 14.14:  ...and you will be blessed, because they cannot repay you.

"The experience was and, in many ways, is still the most important experience of my new life, because it forced me to rediscover my true identity. These broken, wounded, and completely unpretentious people forced me to let go of my relevant self — the self that can do things, show things, prove things, build things — and forced me to reclaim that unadorned self in which I am completely vulnerable, open to receive and give love regardless of any accomplishments."

 

He had nothing more to offer than to love those around him in practical ways, learn to love, and be loved.  His friends there didn't love him for what he had done, or what he could do for them, but simply because he was, as themselves, a child of God, bearing the same dignity as all those around him there.

 

Our hearts may desire to "do great things for God."  And sometimes our circumstances look far from that.  But as Henri discovered, we can always love others --not just for God--but to Him. And there is no greater calling than that. 

But I do not account my life of any value nor as precious to myself, if only I may finish my course and the ministry that I received from the Lord Jesus to testify to the gospel of the grace of God.  Acts 20. 24

 

Find us faithful, O Lord. 

All The Things We Did Not Need

Unlike my husband who shops only from a list, I regularly find impulse items appearing in my grocery cart.  It is not that they won't be consumed, but they were neither planned nor considered needful at the time.

Once long ago, on a hot summer day in Memphis at Aldi's grocery store, the watermelons looked particularly good and so inexpensive that I purchased two.  Even as I was loading my car, I questioned myself, "What were you thinking?" One watermelon is a lot for just two people, but we definitely didn't need an extra one.

After I returned home, I took a meal I had prepared for a family in our church who were caring for a child who was chronically ill.   I pulled into their driveway and walked up to their front porch, carrying the meal. As the mom opened the door, I realized that I had forgotten to unload the watermelons at home with the rest of my groceries.  They were still sitting in the car, like toddlers strapped in their car seats.

I handed my friend an aluminum pan of "piggies in a blanket," ready to stick in the oven at suppertime for her hungry tribe of kids. Her son who was not feeling well was standing by her side with a forlorn look on his face. 

On a whim flying through my thoughts, I said. "Oh, I have something else, if you are interested."  I walked back to the car, the hot humid summer air already covering us like a wet woolen blanket.  Still fresh from the air-conditioned market, the hard green skin of the melon felt cool in my hands.

As I returned, I could see her son's eyes light up. "How did she know?" he asked his mom with the sheer glee of a four year old.  For a brief moment, my friend could not speak.

"Our son has not been eating much, just not feeling well, due to his medications.  Earlier this morning, he had told me that what he wanted more than anything today was a watermelon.  I told him that I was sorry that I didn't have any, or the way to get one today."

"And then, here you come with exactly what we needed. How did you know?"

God equips each of us with abilities, resources we didn't know we have, gifts that seem unnecessary or superfluous at the time, and sometimes the muscle memory to heft a heavy load someone is carrying.  God even embeds tiny hidden details that sneak into our thoughts to sway our decisions, directions, and prayers.  God provides what we need.  But sometimes He provides all the things we think we do not need.  Because someone else might need them. Am I paying attention?  On that particular day, what I thought I didn't need was exactly as God intended.

And it's never just about a watermelon.

I was totally unaware of what God was doing. I did not comprehend at the time how buying two melons would bless the life of a little boy.  I did not audibly hear God saying, "Buy two!" But He covers all of us with His faithfulness and grace. God is good, even when we don't understand and even when life is hard. 

Praise God for how He intervenes in our lives.  He whispers, "Trust Me in this."  May He forgive us for us seeing our mistakes as an interruption.  God does not guide in mysterious ways. God redeems according to His intricate designs.  His redeeming stretches over past, present and future tense. Why are we so surprised?

Are we listening? Are we following Him into this day? We cannot help but be changed by it.

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace,

that we may receive mercy 

and find grace to help in time of need.

                      Hebrews 4. 16

 

Put A Prayer On That

Sometimes we just pray.  Sometimes we really need to pray. 

Sometimes we can't pray fast enough, slow enough, or not long enough.  Sometimes too many words trip over each other.

Sometimes we want to pray but our hearts are not in it. We are slammed, the wind is knocked out of us. We face an unexpected collision, lights are extinguished, and food tastes like ash in our mouths. We are shocked, drained, or sucker-punched. Out of the depths I cry to You, O LORD! O Lord, hear my voice! Psalm 130. 1 We don't know how to respond, and no words come at all.

But then we remember God hears, God listens, and God is still with us. And He knows what to do.  In many occasions, words have very little to do with it.

Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness.  For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words.  Romans 8. 26  He understands the ancient language of groaning and turns our pain into prayers. Because some things are quite radically too deep for words.

We pray to God,

pray for,

pray over,

pray through,

pray to get going,

pray to shelter in place,

and pray in sequential laps over and over.

We pray for a covering, for sutures, a shield snapped in place, a way through the thicket, come alongside others, take His hand or grip someone else's, nourish, cultivate, abide, listen, bring healing, touch the bottom of a really deep pool, stand our ground, or just be grounded. 

Put a prayer on that.

And as a response, God does not show up. God shows us how to be filled, how to fill another, stand in the gap, pull someone out, realize our own need for grace and extend it to another, learn how to love someone, figure out how to spell forgiveness in tangible ways, realize that He is God, and that He is still God, even in this really hard appointment.

...a better hope is introduced, through which we draw near to God. Hebrews 7. 19

We come before God with anxieties, fears and weariness.  And when we seek Him in the midst of the chaos, we always leave aware of even more:  His Word, His strength, and His Presence.  He shows us the way through and often with unexpected blessings of legendary size that come strangely.

What if we prayed?

What if we didn't?

The unknown is just unfamiliar territory to us. But God is already here working His wonders.  His triumphs over our Goliaths may not be what we expect.  But praying gets us to the point of trusting Him in both the ordinary and the extraordinary.  And we find not an answer, but The LORD is there (Ezekiel 48.35)

Have I even considered asking God about this situation?

In this broken world, it has been said that we are six inches from a spider and twenty feet from the next cavernous pothole. That alone is enough to stop us in our tracks. But God instructs us to pivot in our hard and scary stuff with a new heart and thereby respond differently.

Pray without ceasing. 1 Thessalonians 5. 17  In all things, about all things, through all things.  Doing something everyday for a long time makes it really hard not to do it.

If we do not pray on the ordinary days, will we even know how to pray through the crisis?

Praying trains our hearts for what is now and what is ahead, one difficulty and then the next.  Ask any long-distance runner: endurance does not just arrive with a two hour Amazon delivery. Praying is not a daily exercise, but an ongoing experience through which God changes and strengthens us.

"If we do not do the running steadily in the little ways, we shall do nothing in the crisis." --Oswald Chambers, My Utmost for His Highest, September 11. 

How can we handle this impossible situation before us?  Put a prayer on that.

Even Dropping The R

 

A couple months ago, I wrote about how God brings us through. But as we pray about our situations, we can drop the R.  Because God does not just carry us through. God carries us even though.

The word through implies movement in time, space or experience, from one definable point to another. The word though seems like we are stuck with what we didn't expect or want, or that something did not happen at all. 

Sometimes we are holding too tight to our own ideas about what should happen, gripping an idol, or (gasp) telling God what to do, when and how. But all along when we confront a rather jarring though, God is not restricting us, but radically enlarging our circumstances, our abilities, or our hearts.  God is using us for something deeper in His purposes.

After my first several years in journalism, at a weekly editorial meeting, the staff all knew that a promotion was going to be announced that morning.  I had been working hard and seemingly the next in line to move up a notch on the masthead. Then without warning, an associate's name was announced. And he received the honor. I was devastated.  I cried all the way home.

But little did I realize at that moment how profoundly God was ingrained in what looked to me as being bypassed for promotion.  Because God was making my path straight in a different direction.  In the next couple of years, God opened an even bigger door that I didn't see coming.  Not getting that promotion made it easier to leave the company when our family was relocating out-of-state.  And then, I was asked to write and produce projects as a freelance writer, ironically for the same boss.  Suddenly finding myself with three babies at the time in a remote location (and one more daughter to come), I was making more money working part-time at home than I did as a full-time editor.

Even though, because that, nevertheless, while in order to, so even..... Though is not an end in itself, as I discovered, but relates to a situation backwards and forwards.  As I learned in this circumstance, and numerous others in life:  "but little did I realize."

We are standing in the middle of the meanwhiles.  The story is not over yet.  The reality of God's Presence is not contingent on how we happen to feel that day.  Or what appears before us.  Even in what looks like is standing in our way.

Because we forget that God redeems the most impossible, inconceivable, unbelievable situations for our good and the well-being of countless others.  Not just redeeming sometime in the future, but in present tense. And not just about ourselves. When the outcome is not what we expect, God still redeems in one way or a million.  No matter what we see, no matter what unfolds, no matter if we understand or not, we can trust Him even though.

God sees us.  God hears us.  God is carrying us.

Though is a word of trust. No matter what.

Though is a promise of hope. God is redeeming. 

Though is a word of commitment.  I can stake my life on Him, even in this.

God is bringing greater good, even in what we see, even in what is completed far beyond our lifetimes.

Though is a word of Presence. "Do not fear. I am with you still."

God is with us. God is working. God loves us, despite the forecast, even so, nevertheless, and in spite of everything.

As we pray through our experiences, we can drop the R. God is true and faithful in bringing us through, but also in the thoughs of life.

In the through and in the though, we are changed by God, not defeated or lost or paralyzed, but stronger in unexpected ways and in uncharted territory.  We are not just enduring confusion or pain. God has not abandoned us. But God is binding ourselves to Himself, even more, even in this.

Though the fig tree should not blossom, 

nor fruit be on the vines,

the produce of the olive fail,

and the fields yield no food,

the flock be cut off from the fold, 

and there be no herd in the stalls,

     yet I will rejoice in the LORD. 

I will take joy in the God of my salvation.  

God, the Lord, is my strength. 

He makes my feet like the deer's. 

He makes me tread on my high places. 

                            Habakkuk 3. 17-19

 
Even though. And all the way through.

 

Because That's What Faithfulness Does

I first noticed a bag of carrots covered in ice crystals in the vegetable bin of our refrigerator. I tried to ignore the refrigerator's obvious malfunction, hoping that somehow it was just a temporary glitch.

But within a few days, well, now the shredded cheese in an adjacent bin was also hard as a rock.  We tried our usual fix-it method:  Turn the appliance off and start it up again.  No change. 

I called the local repair shop, and a few days later, the technician Tim arrived. He did what the faithful do. He sized up the problem and got to work.  But there was something different here.  This did not seem like just another repair job for him.  He seemed to have a joy in doing the work, not having to do it but getting to do it.  As it turns out, he has been repairing refrigerators since 1988.  Just helping others in time of desperation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He took out all the shelves and drawers.  He worked on his hands and knees for almost three hours. From time to time, I could hear chunks of ice shattering. But he stuck with it, found the problem, and replaced the broken part.

In our culture, we talk a lot about calling.  Tim's calling was not to repair refrigerators -- although he was really good at it -- but called to serve and help others in their time of need.

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.  Hebrews 4. 16

May we be so mindful.  Not just aware of a problem, but also not ignoring what is before us. Doing something about it, not out of obligation, or not to earn someone's favor, or to be the hero, but out of the sheer joy of helping when we can and how we can.  We may not be able to do everything, but we can do something.  And first, to pray. Sometimes serving is just being there, being faithful to the work, and having a happy heart.  That kind of faithfulness is never without a witness for the God we love.

Images of the saints of old were recognized by what they held in their hands.  What do we hold in ours?  Tools in our toolbox to serve others.  When a friend's 18-year-old car needed replacing, she chose a small pickup truck, because it gave her delight in being able to serve others even more. The faithful to Jesus have always been marked not just by carrying a towel and basin (John 13. 4-5), but willingly using them, even in unrecognized ways. 

The faithful stuff is never insignificant. Faithfulness to what God has placed before us changes the world, even if it is fixing one refrigerator at a time.  During Covid, the media identified these quiet servants as "essential workers."  In her lifetime, my mom always acknowledged the mostly invisible battalions around her.  I can still hear her saying to the stock boy at the grocery or the women cleaning the bathrooms at a restaurant, "Thank you for your work."  She let them know she saw them and recognized their profound work. The faithful are watchful and attentive.

"We cannot ascertain what is valuable in God’s sight, nor what He can redeem," writes British author and pastor Rico Tice.

The faithful put down their heads and just do it.  Because they have an inner joy, far deeper than the task at hand.  Would you do this for Me?  

It may not be anything that others see, but knowing God is using it profoundly, beyond our understanding, out of sight, on the far side of words.  That's what faithfulness looks like. 

God uses the most unlikely among us to accomplish the most unexpected.  We can never know the reverberations of a needful act of grace.  There are no small kindnesses.  The awareness to be kind builds one layer upon another.  

One who is faithful in a very little is also faithful in much... Luke 16. 10 

That is what I witnessed in my kitchen.  One who took delight in faithful work.  

May we all leave that imprint.