Grace Versus Guilt



I absolutely love Easter!  It has been a part of my story since the very beginning.  Let me explain:

I was born on Easter.  It has always been a joke amongst our family that I was born into the church since my parents were timing contractions as they sat through the Easter morning service listening to Chuck Swindoll.  Apparently, his message that morning got me excited about life and I made my official entry a later that evening.

I'm always thrilled when my birthday and Easter fall on the same day; it hasn't happened in years, but I feel like it always reminds me to celebrate my spiritual birthday as well as my physical one.  When I decided to follow Jesus and trust Him as my savior, He gave me grace and forgiveness for all my sins.  As Jesus said, this makes us born-again (John 3).  Honestly, there is no better birthday present!  I wrote a devotional about it for Rest Ministries; click here to read it.

So, where does that leave us on the day after Easter?  We spend the day celebrating Christ's resurrection and then life goes back to normal.  We, or at least, I tend to forget.  It is kind of the post birthday blues, if you will.

I struggle with Guilt.  I know most of us do.  Maybe it isn't guilt with a capital G, but even minor guilt is pervasive in our lives.  Some guilt is good; we need it as the Holy Spirit brings things to our attention with it.  Things we need to deal with.  Things we need to make right and ask forgiveness for.

But the rest of the guilt? 

The guilt that I didn't get done all I wanted to because I was sick (like I said, check out my devotional) or the guilt that I should have been bolder with my faith when talking to someone.  The guilt that comes when I don't feel like I am being a great parent and the guilt when I don't measure up to my expectations.  The guilt that comes from the tyranny of the "if only" or "shoulds and ought to have". 

That guilt.  That life-sucking, draining, discouraging guilt.

When Easter is over, our focus fades from grace and makes room for the guilt to gallop right back in.  I think it is because I don't focus on Christ everyday like I do on Easter.  The good news of Easter is for everyday, not just that one Sunday a year.  Translation: one day a year I live in God's grace and the other 364 days I try to do it all on my own.

I know I am more acutely aware of this than most people.  I live with a chronic illness that has kept me in constant pain for the past 25 years.  There were 6 days that I can count that the pain lifted for a few hours (I scare everyone because apparently my personality becomes extremely bouncy and extroverted instead of my normal laid back and quiet self- I am a totally different person!).  This incurable illness has forced the issue of dependency on God; it is literally God working through me in my life.  It has made me see God in everything.  While this is not something I wanted, it has been a blessing in disguise because God has used it to transform me into a very different person that I would have been otherwise: I'm becoming more of who He would like me to be.

In spite of being dependent on God, I feel guilty because I think, somehow, I should be able to do more.  I want to do more... but I can't.  It is beyond frustrating to struggle with guilt from my inadequacies!  And you know what?  If we are all perfectly honest with ourselves, some form of this haunts all of us.  It might not be because of a chronic illness, but we each have our bents as C.S. Lewis says.

We do this because we don't trust Him enough.

We do this because we don't give Him everything.

We do this because we think we know better than Him.

We do this because we don't live like Jesus's act on the cross was enough.

We do this because we don't fully realize the power of Grace.


Inconceivable.

Somehow, we think our pasts, our presents and even our futures might be too much for Grace to handle.  But, if an infinite God paid infinitely for our finite sins, it is safe to say they are covered.  That is Grace with a capital G.  It wasn't cheap. It cost everything and if we live in guilt, what we really believe in is cheap grace.  That is the kind of grace that can't fix our problems and the kind of grace that just buys fire insurance and doesn't mean that we actually have to give up ourselves to get.

I'm dying to myself little by little each day.  As I do, God takes over and grace moves in.  In terms of my struggles, I honestly don't have much, but if I do all that I can for Him, there is nothing to feel guilty over.  Like the widow who only had two coins, but gave them both, God is far more pleased with that than if I only gave Him a fraction of my life even if I were healthy or rich or smart or anything else that I wish I was. 

This is what Easter is: it is everyday grace.  Even though the holiday is over, we can keep celebrating because grace is 365 days a year for the rest of eternity.  As we die to ourselves and stop trusting in our own plans, we let God come in and slay our guilt.  Give everything to Him today, again and everyday.  It is time for us to live like Christ's death really meant something.  We can't ask for a better "birthday" present, but we have to open it up and use it.

It is All For Him



The past two weeks have been tough.  I mean really tough. 

It started when our two year old came down coughing on a Tuesday.  Jack was doing okay, but by Friday, Ethan was coughing so hard that he was crying and didn't want to go to school.  He is the kind of kid who is so tough that when he sliced open his foot playing barefoot basketball at the neighbors (we did have a discussion later about how this is not a good idea) he had to be carried home and left a trail of blood behind and he never once cried.  He never complains so when something is this bad for him, we listen. 

"Break Free"

With drop in temperatures combined with the rain from Hurricane Sandy, it is really difficult to type today.  While my hands have fortunately been doing a little better lately, it has still been a challenge to do all my normal stuff thanks to my fibromyalgia.  I find it really ironic that it has decided to settle into my hands making it almost impossible to move my fingers some days, especially when I want to write.  And yet, I feel so thankful since I have nothing worse to deal with unlike so many others.

Despite the pain and difficulty, I really wanted to write today (or more accurately, these several days since it has taken me that long to type out this post since my fingers will only let me do a few lines at a time).  The past few weeks have been hugely encouraging for me in regards to my fibro.

On True Character



 



My fibromyalgia has unfortunately taken a turn for the worse over the past few weeks for some unknown reason and amongst other things, has settled in my hands.  For the first time in the course of this disease, I have felt stripped bare, reduced to simply who I am and not at all defined by anything that I do since, with the loss of use of my hands, my ability to do anything has been greatly compromised.  I can no longer play my guitar, turn the pages in a book and typing is now incredibly difficult with this post an incredibly long time in the making.  I have struggled with this deeply since I love doing these things and have had many conversations with God over if not these things, then what does he want me to be doing?

Ironically, it is this being stripped bare of all pretense that has made me see more how what I do has absolutely no bearing on who I actually am.  Rather, it is my character that determines what I do and it is my character that He is most concerned with.  The verse in 1 Samuel 16:7 when Samuel was sent to find the next appointed king of Israel says, "But the LORD said to Samuel, 'Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him. For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart.' ” (ESV translation)  I think it is really easy to find our self worth in these outward things but our lives innately are valuable and we can't do anything to make us more so.  In this humble position, we find peace and hope and ultimately, grace. 

It is tempting to dwell on what I used to be or more accurately, what I used to do instead of who I am and what I need to be.  Believe me, it has not been easy but I've realized, who I am impacts and influences my kids, family, friends and everyone I come into contact profoundly more than what I do.  My actions, as much as I can do, flow from who I am and ultimately, who God is as I try to follow Him.

My fibro has definitely taught me so much as I've wrestled with it.  Despite it and probably even because of it, I feel the grace of God in my life as I learn these lessons.  Hopefully though, there will be an easier way to learn these in the future that lets me use my hands more!

When Duty Calls

I've been sick it for what seems like weeks now with what started as a very minor cold nearly a month ago and then turned into a sinus infection which decided to make its way down into my lungs.  Fortunately, antibiotics have been invented and thus my finally feeling like I have turned a corner in the never ending cold saga.  I am constantly battling the old antagonist of my pathetic and unreliable immune system... and it is probably a sign that I need to quit pretending to "eat" my children and putting their feet in my mouth to chew on their toes despite all the giggles as I admitted to my mom last week.  She agreed that this might have something to do with it. 

In spite of being sick, I have been attempting to keep up with life in general since both boys were sick, kindergarten started, and Brian had deadlines again at work which usually means he needs to stay late and work weekends. 

Life with a chronic illness is interesting especially when it is an invisible one.  No one really can see the effects of the fibromyalgia that I constantly feel, but I still need to live life.  And yet, even in my pain, I don't want to just wallow in my illness; I want to live as fully as possible.  It is a lesson that I have been constantly learning about trying to be faithful to God and my commitments of family even when it isn't easy.  That and to buy the large family pack of tissue. 

And while I would love to elaborate more, the irony is that these commitments are calling since my two year old is having a melt down and calling me thus I need to go take care of him.  I'm just not going to "eat" his toes though!

Thoughts From the Couch

The events of this weekend have driven me to confront some questions about myself.  Ethan is starting kindergarten in just a few weeks and so I went back to school shopping for him.  After being out for a few hours (like a normal person!), I came home and crashed (like the fibro girl I am) and spent a good part of the day back on the couch much like the past several weekends.

Herein are my questions:  why does it seem like my weekends always culminate in me being absolutely exhausted, in pain, and completely unproductive?  And, more importantly, why do I still expect things to be different?

The first question seems to be one of me trying to evaluate what I need to do differently with my health routine so I can avoid these crashes.  However, my typical over-analytical self starts evaluating my perception of the whole thing.  Am I really that much worse on the weekends or is it just that since Brian is home, I can actually give myself permission to curl up in a little ball?  I know the kids aren't going to go hungry or at least live only on rice crispies treats or fruit snacks...well, they probably do that anyway on the weekends given the snack box in the pantry seems to be surprisingly empty Monday mornings...  But, I digress...

The more important of these questions is the second one:  why do I still expect to have normal weekends and plan to get a bunch of stuff accomplished for the start of the next week?  I have done this continually for the past several weeks, deliberately putting things off for the weekend with the ludicrous assumption that somehow, it will be easier to accomplish it during the weekend.  Clearly, this has not gone well. 

As we all know, the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result.  I think I am now meeting that definition. As the old adage in my psychology classes went, "Neurotics build castles in the sky, psychotics live in them, and psychologists collect the rent".  Like many of my friends, we were studying to "collect the rent" and help people, but now I've realized paying rent to yourself is a bit difficult, unless of course, you have multiple personalities to make this work efficiently.  And if it is not now entirely obvious, I have spent way too much time sitting on the couch thinking about all of this.  I probably need to get to planning everything I am going to get done next weekend.

Butter Scraped Over Too Much Bread

Tuesday was a glorious rainy day.  I love days like this when I can stay home and listen to the thunder rolling and I particularly enjoy the fact that my plants are being watered with no work from me.  Due to a combination of doing too much yesterday and the rain which always makes me ache a little extra, I felt utterly exhausted.  Even though I have a bunch of stuff I want to get done (kitchen scrubbed, laundry folded and some editing for the book I'm writing), I decided that I needed to sleep.

With both kids down for naps, the house was amazingly quiet.  This is such a rare occurrence here that I really don't know what to do when it happens.  It was a perfect opportunity to rest and I spent an incredibly peaceful hour resting; falling asleep to the sound of a light drizzle has to be one of my favorite ways to drift off.

After waking up, things went right back to normal: it was loud, crazy and hurried as I made food for our church small group dinner and herded small people out the door.  Our typical chaos that ensued just made me thankful that I had gotten some extra rest.

I often feel (wrongly) guilty when I take a time out and do something like that for myself when there is so much else I should be doing.  I'm really a Martha instead of a Mary from Luke 10:38-42 since I always feel the pressure of what "should" get done.  The truth is, my "shoulds" like most people's are probably more self imposed and end up a slave to the "should". 

I feel like I need to give all my time to my family but it comes at a price of utter exhaustion from me and ironically, the quality of "me" is so depleted that I'm not actually sure that it is doing them any particular good.  Whereas when I am taking care of myself and being the person that I need to be, I have so much more to give and can make a much bigger stamp on their lives. 

I've decided that pretending to be able to do it all is basically denying the fact that I am human and that I do, indeed, need sleep.  It doesn't actually get me anywhere so I intentionally decided to not be, as Bilbo says in Lord of the Rings, "...butter scraped over too much bread." 

And while I have less than most people thanks to chronic illness, this is really true for everyone.  We sacrifice taking care of ourselves in the busyness of the moment and we neglect to be the people who God wants us to be.  That is the only thing I really should worry about!

On Falling Off the Face of the Planet

This weekend, I felt like I disappeared from life thanks to another fibromyalgia flare up.  All my grand plans went out the window Saturday morning when I woke up and realized that walking wasn't really on the agenda.  I spent most of the day either lying on our couch or trying to sleep off the pain.  After church on Sunday, I tried to walk since that sometimes helps the pain but I only ended up back on the couch again.  I'm really hoping that this weekend isn't a sign of things to come for this week but, as it is, I am starting out in a state of exhaustion.

Probably one of the most difficult things about having fibro is the propensity to fall of the face of the planet for a few days or even weeks since when I don't feel well, I tend to curl up in a little ball and not talk or make any effort to keep up my relationships, even the ones that I cherish the most. 

The pain is so exhausting that I end up without much to give but I also have a hard time accepting being taken care of by other people.  I think I still buy into the myth that we should all be able to be independent and self sufficient and that we should never give into our weaknesses.  Ironically, I think this line of thinking is really more of my weakness than the fibro is; trying to do everything while it is painfully obvious that I can't just makes the fallacy that much more pathetically obvious. 

We all need other people and community and it takes strength of character, not weakness to be able to accept that.  Such has been my musings while lying on the couch.  It has become quite evident to me that the fibro is more than just a disease; it is an indicator and litmus test of my flaws and bad days do make me take stock of how things are really going with me and where I need to grow.

I was too proud to take my cane to church today even though I really did need it.  When I needed to sit down during worship, I have to admit, I was a bit too concerned with what other people might be thinking as they were there standing.  Even though I have had fibro for more than a decade, I think I still care too much about silly stuff like that (although, it was really funny the time I got some dirty looks from a group of older people for walking too slow!).  This is probably the subconscious reason that I haven't made much of an effort checking into what it would take to get a handicapped parking placard for my really bad day.  Brian again asked me about it today as I limped back to the car after the service.  So, with all my couch time reflections floating in my head, I committed to checking into it this week and learning to let go of my "self-sufficiency" and pride.  I'm also going to make sure that I get together with friends this week!

Another Chance to Trust

When I started this blog, I promised to be authentic in everything I share from the mundane to the more exciting.  And while I would rather ignore this topic (probably really just because I don't want to deal with it myself), I am sticking to my promise of authenticity. 

Tomorrow I am going to the cardiologist and I must admit, it has me a bit scared.  Since my fibromyalgia has flared lately, I've been in a great deal more pain than usually and absolutely exhausted but unfortunately, this is par for the course of FMS.  What isn't though is the fact that I have been blacking out when I stand up quickly and while I haven't passed out at all, it is really really annoying to all the sudden not be able to see and have the balancing skills of a pregnant hippopotamus.  And while my doctor isn't convinced that it is circulatory, we have to rule this out first.  And so I am back to the unknown when it comes to my health. 

It has been such a long journey to come to trust God in the everyday with the fibro and it seems that I am once again on the threshold of having to make that choice yet again.  Trust is so much easier said than done I have decided.  When I was going through it all the first time as I was trying to get my diagnosis of fibro, it was incredibly frustrating but it didn't seem like as big of a deal as stuff is now, I think, because I have kids and I stress out the most about how whatever is going on with me is going to affect them.  I already feel like I have drug them through so much and I see the effects in them.  Ethan and Luke love to imitate me walking around with my cane; most definitely not a normal four and two year old game. 

And so, even though I don't even know anything yet, I confess I start worrying even though I know that I shouldn't be.  My biggest struggle really is turning my head knowledge into active knowledge that I am able to live out.  Apparently, I haven't learned this lesson well enough yet so God is giving me another chance to trust Him.  And I know it will all work out... now just to act like it will!

The Problem of Pain

I keep going back to The Problem of Pain C.S. Lewis.  I'm a self described Lewis junkie so it isn't really a surprise that I continually am reading his books but this one I feel particularly drawn too.  As I said previously, I'm going through a horrendous flare up of my fibromyalgia and so I think the concept of pain speaks to me especially right now. 

The fibro has been such a part of my life from such an early age that definitely made me think about things in an uncommon way.  I would so love to be better and to understand why all this is happening with me but, like Paul, even though I've prayed, my thorn in the flesh hasn't been taken away and the reasons for this are still murky.  I, in my humanity, want to know why. 

I think that is why I love how Lewis outlines our problem with pain as being a barrier to people coming to know God because if God is good, how can He let this happen?  Is He actually in control?  It is easy to feel that He may not be; I've been there but I can say now, after years of wrestling, I know that He is. 

The beautiful truth of this is ugly pain is that it keeps me entirely dependent on God.  If I didn't have this pain, I'm sure I would fall into believing the lie that I don't need Him, for indeed, my physical state is just a reflection of my spiritual one.  It's funny that is seems easy to forget about God when stuff is going well; we even forget to thank Him.  This is only one reason, I know, for the problem of pain. 

When Paul says that "And we know that God causes all things work together for good to those who love God, those who are called according to His purpose" in Romans 8:28, we need to take him at his word.  I've learned the key is "His purpose" though.  God cares more about condition of our hearts than our happiness and comfort.  If we are only seeking happiness and comfort, we aren't seeking His will. 

The truth is, we aren't God, only He is and so we aren't the ones for holding Him accountable for our suffering.  Rather, we responsible for His suffering when He willingly gave His son, Jesus Christ up to the cross for the propitiation of our sins. 

Even though I don't know the particulars of "why me" and such, it is enough to know that He is working to some greater end than myself, and in that He will be glorified.  I am entirely responsible for my reaction to this miserable pain though.  I can either be angry that this is my path to tread, maybe deny that He is in control despite what scripture says, or draw near to Him and remember what Proverbs 30:5 says, "Every word of God is tested, He is a shield to those who take refuge in Him". 

It's really a reaction for or against God in its essence.  It is my prayer that I choose the latter everyday.

If you get a chance, I'd highly recommend C.S. Lewis's The Problem of Pain.  It is one of the books that has impacted me the most.