My wife is fond of reading celebrity news. I think because she uses her brain so much throughout the day that she needs something mindless to indulge in at the end of the day. Some celebrity drivel made her remark the other day, "these celebrities live in another universe. It's like they are out of touch with reality."
I know what she meant. But when I thought about it, so are we. We are them. When I think about Christians being slaughtered, tortured, beheaded, and terrorized for their faith in the Middle East; of immigrants risking everything on harrowing journeys to distant lands in search of a better life; of poverty-level families right here in America trying to make ends meet--it makes our lives seem like a celebrity gossip column that other people read and think, "are they so out of touch with what is going on outside the world they've built for themselves?"
How do you care about something when it's not your reality? As a relatively self-centered person, it's hard for me to step out of what doesn't pertain to me or affect my consciousness. I'm caught up in my own world. Every now and then, though, God takes a few bricks out the walls you've built up around your life to let you know there is something there on the outside, makes a hole to peek out of.
During my drive home I was having a real one-way shouting match with God for taking too many bricks out of my wall in a certain comfortable area of my life, for making things shaky when they had until today been pretty solid. The prayer was raw and slightly schizophrenic: Take it, Lord, whatever you want. No no don't. I trust you...help my lack of trust. What do you want?? I don't have it in me! Etc.
Back home and wrapped up in the horrors of our abominable bedtime routine, my wife and I were going through the usual routine of wrestling, cajoling, scolding, and pleading for the kids to go to bed. When they finally relented a little, and we put on the quiet lullaby music, things got still in the nightlight-lit room. My wife was in Monica's bed with her, and I was laying with David as he read himself a story. He eventually got tired and I held him in my arms. I softly sung him a lullaby I made up that is his favorite. "I love my David, my little David. He makes me happy, when skies are blue. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my David away."
I had had a hard day coming to terms with some things, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually, really ran the gamut. I sang the made-up lullaby over and over and then I teared up a little at first, the words, that someone might take my David away. And I began to cry in the dark room, and cried and cried, for a long time. After twenty minutes or so, a kind of peace settled in.
My son does not belong to me. My life does not belong to me. Even more, and even more painful, my IDEA of how my life should look, the celebrity structure of my day to day, is an idol when we don't hand it over to God to do with it whatever pleases Him. It is SUCH a painful and mortifying lesson and such a privilege to be taught it, to see the things we hold tight to that God is slowly, gently, asking us to loosen our grip, to take his hand and trust him when we don't know where he is leading us. Our realities become different realities. If only we would trust Him, who know what awaits us!
I know what she meant. But when I thought about it, so are we. We are them. When I think about Christians being slaughtered, tortured, beheaded, and terrorized for their faith in the Middle East; of immigrants risking everything on harrowing journeys to distant lands in search of a better life; of poverty-level families right here in America trying to make ends meet--it makes our lives seem like a celebrity gossip column that other people read and think, "are they so out of touch with what is going on outside the world they've built for themselves?"
How do you care about something when it's not your reality? As a relatively self-centered person, it's hard for me to step out of what doesn't pertain to me or affect my consciousness. I'm caught up in my own world. Every now and then, though, God takes a few bricks out the walls you've built up around your life to let you know there is something there on the outside, makes a hole to peek out of.
During my drive home I was having a real one-way shouting match with God for taking too many bricks out of my wall in a certain comfortable area of my life, for making things shaky when they had until today been pretty solid. The prayer was raw and slightly schizophrenic: Take it, Lord, whatever you want. No no don't. I trust you...help my lack of trust. What do you want?? I don't have it in me! Etc.
Back home and wrapped up in the horrors of our abominable bedtime routine, my wife and I were going through the usual routine of wrestling, cajoling, scolding, and pleading for the kids to go to bed. When they finally relented a little, and we put on the quiet lullaby music, things got still in the nightlight-lit room. My wife was in Monica's bed with her, and I was laying with David as he read himself a story. He eventually got tired and I held him in my arms. I softly sung him a lullaby I made up that is his favorite. "I love my David, my little David. He makes me happy, when skies are blue. You'll never know dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my David away."
I had had a hard day coming to terms with some things, emotionally, mentally, and spiritually, really ran the gamut. I sang the made-up lullaby over and over and then I teared up a little at first, the words, that someone might take my David away. And I began to cry in the dark room, and cried and cried, for a long time. After twenty minutes or so, a kind of peace settled in.
My son does not belong to me. My life does not belong to me. Even more, and even more painful, my IDEA of how my life should look, the celebrity structure of my day to day, is an idol when we don't hand it over to God to do with it whatever pleases Him. It is SUCH a painful and mortifying lesson and such a privilege to be taught it, to see the things we hold tight to that God is slowly, gently, asking us to loosen our grip, to take his hand and trust him when we don't know where he is leading us. Our realities become different realities. If only we would trust Him, who know what awaits us!
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