Karen Rabbitt

Free to Be Wrong

Wrong again.

Yesterday, Jerry’s prostate cancer pathology report showed that the edges of the tissue tested positive for cancer cells, in two spots. Not “We got it all,” like I’d hoped. 

Because the cancer has seemed like spiritual battle, I’d been sure God would win a decisive victory. Nope. Not in the way I expected.

In fact, the lymph nodes are clear. That is decisive. No cancer has migrated away from the prostate bed. In the immediate area, though, some cells may remain to wreak havoc.

God just doesn’t do it the way we expect, does he? We expect him to protect our job, but we get a pink slip. We assume God has his hand on our marriages just before our spouse walks out. Or, conversely, we think our prodigal daughter will never call us again, until the phone rings one Sunday morning.

We are free to be wrong. The longer I walk with Papa-God, the less sure I am about what he’ll do in each situation. But the more sure I am that he is involved. We don’t have to get it right.

Because, right or wrong, he’s got us. His strong right arm surrounds us. He is working out his plans and purposes, for us and for eternity.

Papa, please give us all grace to relax against the strength of your arm. Thank you.

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What He Gives is Enough

By the time you read this, we’ll know whether the cancer in Jerry’s prostate has spread.  He’ll be two days post-surgery. That is, if Windows Live Writer publishes this post I’m writing on Tuesday, on Friday. New technology to me, in a new computer. Am I doing it right? We’ll see. Soon I’ll install Windows 7 and maybe everything will change again.

Will our lives change if we’ve found the cancer has spread? Yes. We’ll sign up for radiation or hormone therapy or whatever else the doctors order.

And yet, no. We’ll hold each other morning and night and pray for our day and our sleep. We’ll enjoy our new Skype account that lets us see an image of our grandboy while we talk. We’ll take evening walk-and-talks. Somehow, walking together yields more connection than sitting together.  

We’ll keep trusting God. We’ll look for Romans 8:28 about God working for good in everything (for those who love him and are called according to his purpose) to be made manifest again, right in the middle of our days.

Dozens of people are praying. Surrounded, we feel peaceful, hopeful, the day before. We hope to keep that peace whatever happens.

God doesn’t give us guarantees. He gives us an unchangeable “I am with you always.” He gives the example of Job: “Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him.” He gives us grace for the day and hope for the future. What he gives is enough.

Thank you, Papa-God, for being enough for us.

 

A Sucker-Punched God

Forgiveness is the core of love. When we say Jesus loves us, the center of what we mean is he forgives us. Our detachment from him causes pain. Our indifference, our rebellion, our sin, sucker-punches him.

Though he has every right to slap our face, he straightens up, smiles and extends his arms.

 

From the beginning, he knew what he would pay and considered us to be worth the price.

We don’t see what God sees. He says that the sight of his heavenly light will compensate for every pain we’ve endured here.  I’m counting on that.

And in the meantime, I’m counting on his promised presence with me through anything. I’m counting on redemption of every pain. I’m counting on deliverance from every earthly evil and being brought into his heavenly kingdom.  (Matt. 28:20, Ro. 8:28, 2 Tim. 4:18)

To say he loves us doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll fulfill all our wishes. Nor will he “come through” for us in every way we want him to. He may not give us the job we want, the spouse we long for, nor the house we are praying for.

It’s deeper, broader, wider than that. His love gives us what we really need. A God who extends his arms in spite of the pain in his gut.

Jesus. You knew from the beginning and yet you began. Worthy.

 

 

Sheepness

 

“I don’t like to depend on you.” I was complaining to Shepherd Jesus, a few years ago, about my sheepness. That dependence used to feel like a trap. Sheep are independent from birth. They can stand on their own two (oops, I mean, four) feet soon after birth.  

Sheep are defenseless, though. They are vulnerable to attack. Their follow-the-leader behavior is their primary protection. Wolves are more likely to attack a solitary sheep than a group. And they’re nervous, easily frightened by the simplest things, like loud noises.

Mostly, I’ve given up the fight. The parallels are just too obvious. I need a shepherd. If I’d continued to resist dependence, I’d never know the sweet rest I enjoy today, even in the midst of my husband’s health crisis with prostate cancer.

I’m grateful for shepherd Jesus now. I’m willing to entrust myself to his arms, to his plans and purposes for my life. Rather than a trap, his arms feel like a nest. And the praying flock that surrounds us is our protection.

Are we resting in the shepherd’s arms today? Are we flocking with the others? If we’ve wandered away, are we willing to let ourselves be found?

Jesus, teach us dependence. Don’t let us leave. Come with your strong arms to rescue us.

No "Face Control" at the Gates of Heaven

"Money, looks, and attitude are all weighed and ranked IN A FEW SECONDS, along with a sense of whether you belong." "Barbarians at the Gate," New York Times Style Magazine, Travel Fall, 2009 pg 66.

It's called "face control." When you present yourself at the door of many Moscow nightclubs, you are met by a gatekeeper who decides if you're worthy. Do you look like you have a $50,000 limit credit card?

But money alone isn't enough. You have to be not only rich, but the right age, wearing the right styles, the right shoes, and displaying the right attitude and image to enhance the "pretty picture" inside the club.

In the seventies, in junior college English class, we used to discuss "style" and "substance." Frankly, I can't recall how we talked about them...but it was something about which was more important. Moscow nightclubs have decided style trumps substance.

Once again, I'm grateful for a God who looks deeply. A God who sees our desire to honor him rather than our increasingly saggy skin. He who rushes to meet us when we come in from the country in our overalls. The father who sweeps us onto his lap with a sparkle in his eyes.

Neither our style nor our substance matter. What matters is that, by faith in Jesus' sacrifice, we have presented ourselves to him. Glory. No "face control" at the gates of heaven.

Dear Father-God, we rejoice today in your great heart toward us. 

How to Wrestle with God

My article, Is God's Purpose Worth Your Pain? , on CBN.com attracted a number of comments. One commenter says she was "shocked and intrigued" when she read my statement, "If we wrestle with him until he blesses us..."  She asks: "Is it really okay to wrestle with God?"

That's a reference to Genesis 32, where Jacob wrestles with the angel of the Lord all night and in the morning says "I will not let thee go, except thou bless me."

Psalm 62:8 says, "Trust in him at all times; ye people, pour out your heart before him: God is a refuge for us."

In Luke 22:42 Jesus, in the garden of Gethsemane, prayed, "Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless not my will, but thine, be done." (All KJV)

These three parts of the story of God's dealing with human beings (The Bible) all say to me that it is okay to struggle, with God. It's the "with God" part that's important.

Let's put it in human terms:  suppose you're angry at someone. She said she'd bring dessert to the party last week, but she didn't show up at all. She called the next day and said she'd forgotten, breezing right on to "How did it go?" Well it didn't go very well, because you were counting on her banana cake and so were your guests, who'd heard all about how good it was. You felt betrayed.

What's the next step here? If you want to maintain a close relationship with this friend, you confront her, right? Depending on how emotionally healthy you are, you confront her with yelling or with kind firmness.

But one way or another, you resolve the conflict. Not by ignoring it, but by telling your hurt and anger. Because you have a long history with this person and you want to keep the relationship. If she wants to keep the relationship, she acknowledges your pain and apologizes. She makes it up to you.

Well, suppose you're angry at God. (I know, it's a big leap from forgetting dessert to life-changing sin against us, but bear with me) If God gives me permission to "pour out my heart," he's going to get it all. My heart, as God knows, is desperately wicked and is sometimes full of anger at him! What to do with that anger? Do you want the relationship? Yes? Then you wrestle and pour our your heart and say, with Jesus, but not my will, but yours.

At Gethsemane, even Jesus had a different will than the Father. He wanted the cup to pass from him. And after pouring out his heart, he submitted. Not before the struggle. After.

And that's the way to wrestle with God. God will not apologize to you. But God will hear your pain. God will open his arms to you. God will meet you in your deep struggle to trust him.

God wants an honest relationship. There is a world of difference between turning away from God in our anger and pain and turning toward God in our anger and pain.

If we turn away, he grieves. If we take our anger and pain to him, telling him how it feels, that is, in itself, an act of submission, and he leans forward to listen. 

And remember Romans 8:18: "For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us." (KJV)

Father, thank you that you are a father who wants an honest relationship with us.

Hold Tight the Kingdom

There are many unseen but real threats, but there are also unseen but real promises, and he who makes them says, “Behold, I am coming soon” (Revelation 22:12). Stuart McAllister  August 6, 2009 Slice of Infinity devotional from Ravi Zacharias International Ministries

What kinds of threats are unseen? Unseen in the sense that they are insidious, infiltrating our thinking without our conscious awareness? I think about American entitlement--the sense that we deserve the high standard of living we've enjoyed for the past fifty years. In one sense, we do, because we, as a culture, have worked hard and been full of energy and invention and productivity.

In another sense, though, there is the unfairness of hogging the resources of the world. That some of us cook on stoves while others cook on a ground fire is wrong. It is the way the world has been since the Fall, so it seems normal to us. Yes, the issues are enormous and political and complex, but it's still wrong. Entitlement threatens justice.

What real promises are we ignoring as we attempt to hold on to our materialism? I want to hold things lightly. I certainly enjoy cooking on my Kenmore stove rather than a wood fire in my backyard. And yet, why do I have that privilege while so many work much harder to prepare food for their children?

The lighter my grasp on this world's privileges, the tighter my grasp on what's coming. Recently, as Jerry and I admired Lake Michigan waterfront mansions, I said to him,

"If I did not believe in the Kingdom, I'd be jealous. I'd want to work for a cottage by the sea."

It is getting more and more real to me that the Kingdom both has come and is coming to this earth. That what God has in mind, that which is beyond our imagination, is this life, made new. (Isaiah 65:17) This life, where we all live in mansions by the sea. This life, fully submitted to our good and faithful Father. For his glory and our joy.

Maranatha, Jesus. Come. In your time, in your way, in accord with your purposes. Amen.

Who Makes It Happen?

"Go, make something happen.” That was Seth Godin's charge to his first graduating class of nine in his informal MBA program. Godin is the author of TRIBES, a highly regarded marketing book.

That phrase reminds me of the times I’ve talked to psychotherapy clients who were trying to “make something happen”—but it wasn’t working. They were trying to get a spouse to call them if they were going to be late to dinner, or trying to change a culture at a workplace, or trying to change their own addiction to porn.

Making something happen didn’t work because, though my clients had some responsibility, they couldn’t accomplish the task alone. If a husband kept forgetting to call, his wife couldn’t make him do it. If a worker tries to change how the intake process works at a nursing home, but it’s been done that way for twenty years, she needs to persuade many co-workers of the wisdom of her plan. Addictions require our attention to the temptation process. But what stops the process at the beginning is the power to imagine the aftermath of shame.

“God, make something happen.” When we want to create a new process, we need God’s help. It’s not that we have no part, it’s that we must not ignore God’s part. Life with our Papa-God is a both/and process. He’s the one to convict the spouse, to change the co-workers, and at the point of temptation, to give power to imagine consequences.

We can influence. We can obey what we sense the Father speaking to us. We can understand our own vulnerabilities and educate ourselves about a process of growth. But, let’s not forget, it’s the Holy Spirit working together with us that will make something good happen.

Sweet Jesus, Dear Father, Holy Spirit. You have invited us into your intimacy so that, together, we can bring good into this broken world.

 

Long-Standing Shelters

How long do you expect the house you live in to stand? I walked by a twenty-year-old Cape Cod this morning, already looking shabby. Our hundred year old bungalow, with lots of loving attention, looks better.

A key difference is the materials. The Cape Cod is sided in vinyl, our cottage is painted redwood, the narrow boards typical of the early 1900s. I've not been in that particular Cape Cod, but others of the same vintage feature plastic interior trim. Patterned with wood grain, they look like the real thing, but they will not hold up like the four-inch-wide painted pine with shaped trim that many older houses boast. Both our roofs are architectural shingles-that's one good thing that will protect both our domiciles from our Central Illinois spring hail storms. 

In 1910 our house was built for railroad workers. We're the middle of three that look alike from the outside, but are different inside. What's similar, though, is the material quality. Even so, at that time, the standard, for example, of wood flooring was 5/8" thick oak. Though all 900 square feet are oak, the thickness is 3/8", thick enough for only the one sanding we did when we moved in more than thirty years ago. But it's been enough to support families for a hundred years.

St. Paul says we need to pay attention to our building materials. (1Corinthians 1:12) He's speaking specifically of our building into other's lives, but how we build our own lives counts, too. How can we build into others what we have not constructed in our own?

How do we teach our children to pray if we don't pray? How do we help others grasp the tender, fierce, love of Papa-God if we don't know it ourselves? What materials can we use to help others erect strong walls against sin if our walls are made of paper?

I want to build a house that will be a legacy for generations, don't you? Let's ask God to show us the quality of our materials. Then, if we need to, we can ask him for better defenses from the hail of temptations and lies that often assault us.

Papa, build with us the shelters we need. 

God-Focused Change

I spend a lot more time "butt in chair" at the computer than I used to. Even writing the book, I didn't stay at the computer as long as I do now. For those three years of writing, I spent 4 hours, from 9-1pm, a day. That, at least, was the goal, which I met often enough to actually finish the book. Yay.

Anyway, as I engage in my new full-time job of marketing the book, I'm on Twitter (@tradingfathers) Facebook (friend me, with reference to this blog) and just keeping up with all the other ways to get the word out.

I used to spend a lot of time thinking, time reading, and some time just enjoying God's creation. I have library books due soon that I haven't touched, and I'm thinking right now, I guess, but the enjoying God's beauty in creation consists of hearing the birds outside my window as I sit at the computer.

How are you doing with the changes in your schedule in the last year? Are there any? What's changed that you miss? Is there a way for us to resist and return to what we miss? Or are some good aspects of our lives just done?

Sometimes we are done with a season of our lives. Our children leave home and we're done with daily parenting. Not done with daily prayer, of course, just the daily, in person, interaction. We lose a job and perhaps we are finished with that profession or those tasks. It's time to learn new tasks. Time to retrain. Or we realize a spouse's failing health is going to mean we can't plant the garden this year. Change comes on us suddenly or slowly, but it comes.

I try to keep off the computer on Sundays, and usually Saturdays. I take bike rides, walks, and make time to read. And to remember that his creation deserves to be enjoyed. We glorify him when we use time to ponder the splendor of his works. And we remind ourselves that he is in charge.

Papa-God, may we glorify you during the changes in our lives. Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer, Lord. Amen.