A Painfully Clear Answer to My Writing Question

God has been very gracious to me in confirming that I need to write. I had a sense of direction even before Carolyn Weber's comment and two very loving and encouraging emails from good friends. I had made a plan and had begun executing it. Then one of the same friends who encouraged me by email, who is not afraid to speak the truth in love, directed me to a post today by author Sally Lloyd-Jones at the Desiring God blog, which provided additional direction. (If you are not familiar with Lloyd-Jones work, she is probably best known as the author of the Jesus Storybook Bible.)

The direction was affirming but convicting at the same time. For Lloyd-Jones made clear what I was not able to see: Self-doubt and insecurity about writing are evidence of PRIDE. Thinking and analyzing and agonizing and seeking feedback from others make it all about me. Lloyd-Jones says,

"But if you realize it's not about you—that whatever you have is a gift from God—if in other words, you get out of the way—then you can be fearless. There is no vision too great, nothing too outrageous to dream, nothing too impossible to dare."

So here and now, I confess and repent of my pride and give thanks to God who speaks so clearly when I'm a willing to listen, and who is willing to do more abundantly that I can ask or think, according to the power at work within me, to him be the glory forever. (Ephesians 3: 20-21)

To Write or Not to Write?

I just read a post by Carolyn Weber that has inspired me to write this. I am home this week recovering from a procedure, and the week has turned into a kind of spiritual retreat for me. My children have been with my parents, so I have had hours each day to spend alone reading and thinking. And I have been thinking a good bit about writing and this blog.

As I scrolled through the few and far between posts here a few minutes ago, it was obvious how little original writing it includes. It's mostly links and quotes. I wrote more for my old blog, but I had more time at my disposal then as a stay-at-home-mom with an indulgent husband. Now, if I really want to write, I'm going to have to make a commitment to it, be willing to sacrifice other interests, and do it for no other reason than because I know it is a calling. Is it a calling? That's what I need to be sure of, and that is where Carolyn's post comes in.

The post is entitled, "Do Childhood Passions Point Toward Adult Gifts?", and towards the end of the post, she writes:

The child is father of the man,” professes the poet William Wordsworth. This child knows the way to the Kingdom of Heaven within. This child holds the promise of God’s purpose and plan: “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb” (Psalm 139:13). In these childhood dreams – in that which we take delight and sense how we might be gifted – we glean our future in God’s purpose for us.

I have wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember, but I did not have the single-minded drive nor the personal discipline to train myself as Carolyn did through education and practice. I would have loved to have studied English literature in college, but my innate pragmatic streak and my desire for financial independence won out, and I studied business instead. Nor did I have the encouragement needed from others to spur me on. (My mother always told me I could be whatever I wanted to be, except a basketball coach.)

Like Carolyn, I have certain events impressed upon my memory. After handing in my writing journal to my tenth grade English teacher, I asked her if she thought I could be a writer one day. I cannot remember her exact words, but her response was sweet and unenthusiastic. In college, I made excellent grades on my papers and other writing assignments, but the only specific praise for my writing skills I can remember was in graduate school when my finance professor told me that he had given me a B on a paper because my writing skills were superior to the rest of the class. Left to my financial analysis alone, I would have earned only a C.

As Providence would have it, I finished graduate school during a recession and my ambitions for banking were squelched. And of all of the jobs I could have possibly found (thanks to my mother pouring over the Atlanta Journal Constitution every Sunday), I was hired by a trade association as a technical writer. The tests I had to pass to get that job made it clear that I had excellent writing and editing skills, but the standardized tests I ended up writing on the job did not inspire, and about a year later I moved into another position within the company. I will not bore you with the list of jobs I had in the years to follow. I did a good bit of marketing and PR, so there was always some writing going on, but nothing personal or inspired—with the exception of a few snippets that might possibly be found in a boxed-up long-forgotten journal.

Looking back, I think I thought my time had come as a writer when I began my old blog, Logoscentric. God had clearly called me to be a teacher of the Word, and like any teacher, I was eager to share what I was learning through whatever means available. I knew I was a decent writer, so a blog seemed like a good idea. Pretty early on I developed some online friendships that provided encouragement and feedback. I had a few followers and pretty regular comments. Not a lot, but enough to keep me going. My closest friends and family members thought I was brilliant. I was off to a great start!

Unfortunately, I became consumed with Logoscentric. During our summer vacation in Orlando that year, I read Blogging for Dummies to figure how to attract more readers. It became more about comments and readership than about being obedient to write what was on my heart and trusting God with the outcome. In contrast, look at what New York Times bestselling author Ann Voskamp says about her foray into blogging:

I had journaled up until that point as a young mom, taking Scripture that I'm reading and laying that down in a journal, and how am I living this out, and where is the sin in my life that I need to confess and work through—so never journaling apart from God's Word. Blogging came out of that: If God could use in another mother's life what I was wrestling through, that was a way to go into the world while still being a stay-at-home mom and serving my husband and kids. ... I've never had comments. I've never installed a site meter on it. So I was never thinking there was anyone really out there. Now and then you'd get an email, but up until fall 2010, the screen was black. I saw it as a dark, quiet space. —World Magazine, July 14, 2012

So less than a year after I started it, I gave up Logoscentric. Some time later, I went back and deleted a number of posts: those with no real substance wherein I was trying to be clever or attract another blogger's attention, silly lists— I don't even remember now. The best way for me to describe it is that I deleted all of the crap. I left the posts that I was pleased with, that I knew were primarily motivated for the right reasons, and that may benefit others if they happened to stumble across them out there in cyberspace.

The years that followed can best be described as my "dark night of the soul." I struggled with depression and had no real sense of purpose. I resigned from all teaching responsibilities at my church, and other than a couple of short-lived part time jobs in ministry, I was little more than a church member with excellent attendance, above-average knowledge, and an outward morally upstanding life. There was spiritual growth at that time—in spite of myself. I still did Bible studies and had stretches of regular daily quiet times, but I was spiritually dry as a bone and emotionally pathetic.

My lack of a sense of spiritual purpose beyond my family led me to consider becoming an artist. I knit, crochet, and embroider, and I do it well, so it wasn't that much of a stretch. I started a blog chronicling my creative efforts and established online friendships with other crafty types. I soon took up drawing and painting, which culminated in a week-long painting class at the John C. Campbell Folk School for my fortieth birthday. It was a defining moment, but not the one I'd hoped for. My skills were average, and if I was going to be a painter it would take work. I knew it wan't realistic for me to do a painting a day for the indefinite future. Now what? This led to what was probably the worst time in my life. I was miserable.

(At this point, you are most likely thinking, what does this have to do with writing? I'm getting there.)

In retrospect, I have no doubt that I was clinically depressed. Most days, after I took my children to school, I came home and went back to bed. I was tired all the time, and I cried constantly. I was at the end of myself. And when we come to the end of ourselves, that is when God can do something with us. That's what He did for me. While I was depressed and miserable, within weeks of each other, God called me to start a new women's Sunday school class at my church, and he called me to be the executive director of a new women's ministry that was opening in our town. God chose a time for these things when I was under absolutely no delusion that I was worthy or had done anything to deserve these positions. It was all grace.

Once I had a sense of calling again, I had a desire to write and to share the things God was teaching me. So I started this blog. (The name of our Sunday School class is Berean Women, which explains the blog name.) I remembered my lessons from my Logoscentric experience, so I decided that it would be a blog just for our class—to share things, to encourage them, and to enhance our studies. No delusions of grandeur this time! Therefore, in the past couple of years, I have posted if and when I've been inspired to and with very little original content. I get a positive comment about the blog occasionally, but my sense is that no one is really reading it. And why not? There are only about 25 women on our class roll. I am writing for an extremely limited potential audience.

All of this leads to the question prompted by Carolyn Weber's post: Does my childhood passion for writing along with my tendency to keep coming back to it make me a writer? Is it a calling? If so, what should I do about it? Discipline myself to write more and to provide more original content here or start another blog altogether for a broader potential audience? (There have been many false starts that I haven't bothered to mention in this post.)

Or should the lack of feedback and encouragement dissuade me? Should I see it as confirmation that I shouldn't be wasting my time? Something that has been especially difficult over the years is the lack of encouragement I have received from spiritual mentors in my life. Is God sending me a message or encouraging perseverance?

In the World Magazine interview quoted above, Ann Voskamp says she doesn't really know what she thinks until she writes. That she has to write to understand life. That's what I've been doing here: Writing to understand why I desire to write and if I should bother continuing. This exercise has made it clear to me that my desire to write and what I write about are inextricably linked to God's call on my life. When I know I am called, I have a voice. But what is the point of having a voice, if no one is listening?

"Ask Jeremiah.", is the response that comes to mind.

Your words were found, and I ate them,

and your words became to me a joy

and the delight of my heart, 

for I am called by your name, 

O Lord, God of hosts.

—Jeremiah 15:16

Holy Week Revelation and Resolution

On Monday, I wrote in my journal one of those entries that I can hardly bear to go back and read again. My quiet time that day was a prayerful struggle that lead to my downloading Tullian Tchividijian's  Jesus + Nothing = Everything. I now have absolutely no recollection how I ended up there, but it soon became clear why I did. I needed to be reminded of the Gospel.

And you, who were dead in your trespasses and the uncircumcision of your flesh, God made alive together with  him, having forgiven us all our trespasses, by canceling the record of debt that stood against us with its legal demands. This he set aside, nailing it to the cross. —Colossians 2:13-14 (ESV)

I read Tullian's book in about two days, and then proceeded on to J.D. Greear's Gospel, which I am still in the process of reading. Greear says the effect of not staying focused on the Gospel is to live in the extremes of pride and despair. That's where I have been for a long time. I have not been living moment by moment believing the Gospel in my heart—no matter how firmly established it is in my mind. Continually believing the Gospel in light of the circumstances of life is how to work out my salvation with fear and trembling (Philippians 2:12-13). I must struggle to believe in spite of a natural inclination not to, a fall back position of performance-orientation and self-preservation, and feelings that I seem powerless to overcome. We Christians are quick to assent to the fact that the Gospel saves us from hell, but we are extremely slow to understand that it saves us from ourselves. I desperately need saving from myself.

So on this Good Friday 2012, I resolve to preach the Gospel to myself every day, as often as necessary. And as I do this, Lord, please save me from myself.



(Photo was taken in the Hagia Sophia in Istanbul, Turkey.)

Christian Growth Defined

"I used to think that growing as a Christian meant I had to somehow go out and obtain the qualities and attitudes I was lacking. To really mature, I needed to find a way to get more joy, more patience, more faithfulness, and so on.

Then I came to the shattering realization that this isn't what the Bible teaches, and it isn't the gospel. What the Bible teaches is that we mature as we come to a greater realization of what we already have in Christ. The gospel, in fact, transforms us precisely because it's not itself a message about our internal transformation but about Christ's external substitution. We desperately need an advocate, mediator, and friend. But what we need most is a substitute—someone who has done for us and secured for us what we could never do and secure for ourselves.

The hard work of Christian growth , therefore, is to think less of ourselves and our performance and more of Jesus and his performance for us. Ironically, when we focus mostly on our need to get better, we actually get worse. We become neurotic and self-absorbed. Preoccupation with our effort instead of with God's effort for us make us increasingly self-centered and morbidly introspective.

Again, think of it this way: sanctification is the daily hard work of going back to the reality of our justification. it's going back to the certainly of our objectively secured pardon in Christ and hitting the refresh button a thousand times a day. Or, as Martin Luther so aptly put it in his Lectures on Romans, "To progress is always to begin again." Real spiritual progress, in other words, requires a daily going backwards.

...Christian growth, in other words, doesn't happen by first behaving better, but by believing better—believing in bigger, deeper, brighter ways what Christ has already secured for sinners."

—Tullian Tchividjian, Jesus + Nothing = Everything


(Emphasis in bold is mine. –KS)

Discipline

Last week, I decided that my word for 2012 would be "discipline." Tonight in Bible study, Dr. Palmer shared the following quote:

“I defy you to read the life of any saint that has ever adorned the life of the Church without seeing at once that the greatest characteristic in the life of that saint was discipline and order. Invariably it is the universal characteristic of all the outstanding men and women of God. Read about Henry Martyn, David Brainerd, Jonathan Edwards, the brothers Wesley and Whitfield — read their journals. It does not matter what branch of the Church they belonged to, they have all disciplined their lives and have insisted upon the need for this; and obviously it is something that is Scriptural and absolutely essential.”
—Martyn Lloyd-Jones

Childlike Faith vs. Immaturity

From today's devotion in Tabletalk Magazine:

Immature understanding of biblical doctrine leads to immature thinking and living; thus, many believers do not live up to their calling in Christ to be salt and light to the world. There are numerous reasons for this immaturity. One of the most common is the failure of many churches to grasp the true meaning of childlike faith. When Jesus says we must become like children to receive the kingdom (March 10:15), He demands that we become like the typical child in our attitude toward Him, not in our knowledge. To be childlike in matters of faith does not mean that our knowledge of facts is as deficient as a small child's; rather it means that we are wholly dependent on the Lord, just as little children rely wholly on their parents. Unfortunately, many believers think childlike faith requires childlike knowledge when , in fact, the opposite is true. Only as we begin to understand the greatness of God do we realize our utter weakness, which prompts us to live as children absolutely dependent on our Father.

Another contributing factor to the pervasive immaturity we see in the church today is the antirationalist spirit of the current culture. The importance of critical thinking and the need for our minds to inform our feelings and emotions have all but fallen by the wayside. Yet Scripture places a premium on loving God with our minds, so Christians must never succumb to this antirationalist spirit (Mark 12:30).

Taking Possession of the Promised Land

To be reading in Deuteronomy and Galatians at the same time is truly a gift from God.

Today, in my gratitude journal, I wrote "Eyes to see." Until this day, I have not had eyes to see (Deut. 29:4).

For a number of years, I have been on the east side of the Jordan looking into the Promised Land. Having a glimpse here and there, a taste of what it will be like. Faithfully gathering manna at times, well fed. And at other times, starving myself to the point of near death. I sought to return to Egypt more times than I can count, and I fought many battles with the enemy who anticipates what is coming and who knows Who is on my side. I have been in the camp at times experiencing the blessing and presence of God. But I have also wandered in the wilderness, striking out on my own thinking that I had a better plan or way. Thankfully, by the grace of God, I kept coming back to camp, returning to the sanctuary.

As I have been reading Deuteronomy in recent days, I have been repeatedly impressed by the reality that Moses's commands require a diligence and purposefulness that I did not recognize before:

• Take care.
• Keep your soul diligently.
• Seek the Lord.
• Be careful.
• Fear God.
• You shall not go after other gods.
• Devote the enemy to complete destruction.
• Remember what God has done for you.
• Serve the Lord your God with all your heart and soul.
• Circumcise the foreskin of your heart, and be no longer stubborn.
• Destroy the places where other gods were served.
• Seek the place that the Lord your God will choose.
• Purge the evil from your midst.
• The Lord your God will fight for you against your enemies.
• Devote them to complete destruction.
• Disobedience is an abomination to the Lord.
• Be holy.
• Fulfill your vows to the Lord,
• Obey the voice of the Lord your God.
• Choose life.
• Hold fast to God.

God's standards and expectations of His children are extremely high. Rather than pursuing His standards, I pursued my own, which I thought were pretty lofty because I was comparing myself to others in the camp rather than to God and His Word. I was a much more faithful manna gatherer and offered many more sacrifices than those in neighboring tents. But I wasn't satisfied with my status in the camp. I wanted the land flowing with milk in honey.

For many years, I was helpless to cross over the Jordan.

I can't tell you exactly at what point I crossed over, but by the grace of God I believe it has happened. The crossing wasn't easy. The enemy met me at the shoreline and fought hard. At times, he nearly drove me back across, and a time or two, I nearly drowned. But the Lord my God went with me and fought for me to give me victory (Deut, 20:4).

More than once after crossing over, I looked at the nations around me and was tempted to follow after their gods. BUT I remembered what the Lord had done for me, and that motivated me to fight and not give up. Galatians 5 sums it up. Before crossing over, I allowed the desires of the flesh to take precedence over the desires of the Spirit. The two are always in opposition, and I have a choice. I often chose the desires of the Spirit, but the desires of the flesh were and still are especially strong in certain areas, and I often succumbed to them. I still do, but the fruit of the Spirit I see encourages me to continue to walk in the Spirit and to crucify the flesh. Paul uses the word "crucify" for a reason. It isn't easy. It requires effort and diligence on my part... Ah, Deuteronomy again.

I recently had a conversation with a sister in Christ who told me that she knew she probably shouldn't watch a particular movie, but that she was going to anyway. The desire of the flesh trumped the desire of the Spirit. She chose not to crucify her flesh. She chose to please herself rather than doing what she knew would be pleasing to God. She didn't take seriously His command to Be Holy and I am Holy (I Peter 1:16).

I share this with you because it is simple and obvious. Sometimes the choices are not so simple and not so obvious, and that has been my primary struggle in recent years. It is not inherently sinful to spend time online and to make things. However, if I am doing these things for the wrong reasons, and if I am neglecting other things I should be doing...no, that I must be doing, it is a desire of the flesh, which can become an idol, and it is sin.

Which brings me back to diligence, and the need to define what it means because like the Galatians, we can very easily equate diligence with legalism, and that will not do. This has been pitfall of mine. "Lord, I am doing this, and this, and this, so why isn't it going well for me?!" His answer:

• You are doing it that it may go well for you rather than to please me.
• You are doing it because you are afraid of what will happen if you don't.
• You are doing it for the praises of men.
• You are doing it because you desire success.
• You are doing it because you desire comfort above all else.

My motivation for doing the thing is the key. If it is directed by the Spirit, it is right. If it is directed by the flesh, it is wrong. Often, the challenge is knowing which is which, and the breakthrough comes when God gives you eyes to see the difference. This is called discernment. And where does one get discernment?

Take heart all the words by which I am warning you today, that you may commend them to your children, that they may be careful to do all the words of this law. For it is no empty word for you, but your very life, and by this word you shall live long in the land that you are going over the Jordan to posses. —Deut. 32:46-47

It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all. The words I have spoken to you are spirit and life. —John 6:63

Discernment comes from the Word of God.
More Word.
More Spirit.
More Life.

...the Promised Land.

Eat the manna. Apply the balm. Take possession.

McArthur Series on Spiritual Growth

I mentioned this series in class weeks ago, and I'm finally getting around to posting it...if I haven't already posted it. I can't find it, so I'm going to assume that I haven't. I am linking to the written sermons here, but you can also listen online or download the audio versions. They are well worth your time.

Spiritual Growth, Part 1

Spiritual Growth, Part 2

Spiritual Growth, Part 3

Spiritual Growth, Part 4

Living Sacrifices

I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.
Romans 12: 1

God has been asking me to give some things up. He's been asking for some time, but I have been resisting, making excuses, looking for evidence to the contrary, thinking wishfully. However, a few weeks ago, He made himself very plain. First, in the following passage from Praying God's Will for Your Life by Stormie Omartian, which was shared with me by my friend, Amy...

...a time comes when each of us must place our desires and dreams in the hands of God so that He might free us from those that are not His will. In other words, you secure your future by realeasing your dream to God and, if need be, allowing it to die. If you've always had a certain picture of what you think you should do, you have to be willing to let that picture be destroyed. If it really is what God has for you, He will raise you up to do that and more. If it isn't, you will be frustrated as long as you cling to it.

Often the desires of your heart are the desires of His heart, but they still must be achieved His way, not yours, and you must know that it is He who is accomplishing them in you, not achieving them yourself. God wants us to stop holding on to our dreams and start holding on to Him so that He can enable us to soar above ourselves and our own limitations. Whenever we let go of what we long for, God will bring it back to us in another dimension.

Then, the very next day, I read this blog post at Desiring God. Please read it. It is another very short post, and you will be blessed.

The bottom line is this: God doesn't ask us to give things up in order to be cruel or to punish us. He asks us to give them up because they are distracting us from our relationship with Him or because they are lesser things. Lesser things are not bad in and of themselves, but they have little or no eternal value, and they take time away from more profitable pursuits.

Yesterday, I read Isaiah 56, and the phrase "who chose the things that please me" has stuck in my mind ever since. Lord, enable me to always choose the things that please You.

Finding Rest

For several weeks now, I have been asking my Sunday School class and Wednesday night small group to pray for me that I would learn how to abide in Christ (John 15:1-11). Interestingly enough, and as is usually the case, I keep "stumbling upon" resources to help me in my pursuit of abiding. Here is a great related article I found at my favorite blog, Desiring God. It's really short, so don't pass it up!

You are an Object of God's Delight

Live your daily life in the full consciousness of being righteous in God's sight, an object of delight and pleasure in Christ. Connect every view you have of Christ in His other graces with this first one: of God, He is made to you righteousness. This will keep you in perfect peace. Thus, you will enter into, and dwell in, the rest of God, So will your inmost being be transformed into being righteous and doing righteousness. In your heart and life it will become manifest where you dwell; abiding in Jesus Christ, the Righteous One, you will share His position, His character, His blessedness: "Thou lovest righteousness, and hatest wickedness; therefore God, thy God, hath annointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows" (Ps. 45:7). Joy and gladness above measure will be your portion.

From Abide in Christ
By Andrew Murray

More Insight on I Corinthians 5

In class Sunday, we had a good discussion on I Corinthians 5, and we briefly tried to hash out what it means to judge rightly within our fellowship. Yesterday, I found this article, which gives additional insight as to why judgment is necessary in the first place. We do ourselves a disservice by not being accountable to other believers who we know love us and want us to grow in our relationship with Christ.

The Spiritual Society

I almost forgot about this. I read it on July 12, and wanted to share it with you. It complements our discussions on the church we have been having in our study of I Corinthians. It's from My Utmost for His Highest, and it will only take a few minutes to read.

Self-Examination

I wrote the following post in my journal on July 3, and I'm just now getting around to posting it. I do SO want to share things here more frequently, and I hope to do so in the not too distant future.

A few weeks ago in class, I referred to my "period of disobedience," and one of the class members asked, "How to you know you were being disobedient?" It is an excellent question because during that time in my life I sincerely thought I was doing what God called me to do. Why looking back on it now do I see it as disobedience? The question deserves an honest answer, and I have been thinking about how to respond ever since the question was posed.

The first thing I settled on were the things in which I was unquestionably obedient:

1. I loved God and desired to grow in my relationship with Him.
2. I ultimately put my family before myself.
3. I attended church faithfully and never gave up on worship.
4. I grew in my desire for spiritual things and in my distaste for worldly things. This was to a certain extent due to what I exposed myself to: no television, no popular music, no R-rated movies, etc.
5. I dedicated myself to raising my children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.
6. I served the church in a variety of ways as I was called on to do so.

Next, I examined areas of unquestioned disobedience.

1. I did not seek God as I could have done based on the time available to me. I should have spent more time in prayer and in the Word.
2. I often placed my own wants and needs above those of my family members.
3. I didn't serve others based on the time and means available to me. I often thought of serving others such as in sending notes or preparing meals, but I rarely followed through,
4. I didn't nurture my spiritual gifts. My gifts necessitate even more Bible study and related reading than required in #1.
5. I did not make the most of my time. I often spent hours online in a miserable trance I knew I needed to break, but I would keep sitting there seemingly powerless to do anything about it. I lost myself in other people's pleasures and pursuits and rarely followed through on my own.

It's been nearly two weeks since I began making these mental lists, and even after making them I still couldn't answer the question: Was I in rebellion? But as I was studying today, I found the sermon I posted about here, and as I read it, I was set free from the need to answer the question.

No, I clearly did not press on to maturity as I could have done, but is that an unrealistic expectation for someone who was, in retrospect, clinically depressed? And if I was clinically depressed, was it not by the sovereignty of God? And if God is sovereign over spiritual maturity, did He not allow all of the good and the bad in my past to accomplish His purposes?

The unexamined life is not worth living, but endless examination is unnecessary and counterproductive. My past experiences have driven me to the cross and are being used by God. That is all that matters.