Wednesday, June 17, 2020

We Need More than Nice Words on a Sign

"Worry ends where faith begins"

"Worry doesn't empty tomorrow of its troubles; they empty today of its joy"

"Faith means you have peace, even when the world doesn't have peace"

These are words I've read regularly on a couple of church signs I drive by. They've said the same things since sometime in March.

At first, I read them and moved on. But the longer I see them, the more frustrated I've become with the message.

They're good sounding words. They should like they could be encouraging in an uncertain time. There's even a bit of truth to what they say.

But even those thoughts reveal the problem with them. Yes, they sound good. But, if you're actually struggling with worry, fear, anxiety, they've not encouraging words. They sound like a platitude - you just have to have more faith.

Is the message on these signs in line with Scripture?

Yes. A quick reading would say that.

But, I would also say no. I think that's why, over time, these messages have begun to frustrate me. 

What do I mean?

Yes, Scripture tells us not to worry. And Scripture encourages us to have faith.

No, because Scripture also acknowledges the struggle with worry, fear, anxiety and gives us a whole lot more than just an admonishment to have more faith. Scripture doesn't set worry and faith as opposites - even though we like to do that.

Let's take a look at some of what Scripture actually says.

One of the most commonly quoted Scriptures is Matthew 6:25-34. Jesus' teaching on worry in Sermon on the Mount. We're clearly told not to worry. Jesus makes the futility of worry pretty clear here. He also tells us to choose to seek God first in our lives instead.

But, what we're not told is significant here. We're not told that worry means we don't have faith. Jesus tells us not to worry and He tells us to seek God first, but this passage doesn't say that worry, fear, anxiety negates faith. I would argue that to seek God first instead of staying stuck in worry, fear, anxiety, means you have some measure of faith to begin with - even though you also have worry, fear, anxiety.

We like to use Philippians 4:6-7 in these discussions as well. In these verses, Paul tells us to go to God with our worries, fears, anxieties. We're told to tell them to God so we can experience His peace. If those worries, fears, anxieties mean we don't have faith, why would our response be prayer? That makes no sense.

In 1 Peter 5:7 we're told to "cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you." Again, if those anxieties, fears, worries mean you have no faith, why would you cast them on Jesus? To choose to cast them on Jesus, you would need to believe that He cares about you and wants to know.

We can worry about things and still have faith. If worry, fear, anxiety is the antithesis of faith, it would be hard for many of us to have faith. Who hasn't worried sometimes? Who hasn't dealt with fear over certain things? Who hasn't had anxieties?

I believe it all comes down to what we do with our worries, fears, anxieties. We can have them alongside faith, if we're choosing to take our worries, fears, anxieties to Jesus.

Carrying our worries, fears, anxieties on our own will cause us to miss out on what's going on in the moment. But it's not as simple as telling someone that. Sometimes we might need to help them take their worries, fears, anxieties to Jesus.

That's something I'm grateful for a friend doing for me recently. I was struggling with all that's going on and the worry, fear, anxiety it has brought to my life. After seeing me in an inline meeting where I wasa struggling to hold it together, this friend phoned me.

She listened, pointed me to the truth of Scripture, and prayed for me on the phone. In doing so, she helped me take my worries, fears, anxieties to Jesus and leave them there, because I had faith that He could take them and carry them better than I could.

I didn't need church signs with good sounding words on them to help me with my worry, fear, anxiety. I didn't need to be told to just have more faith. I needed to be reminded that I have a place I can take my worry, fear, anxiety. And I needed a friend to remind me that I still had faith.

So, maybe, rather than looking for good sounding words, we can instead help one another walk out the faith we already have when we're struggling.

Monday, May 18, 2020

Don't Forget the Singles

After weeks of being limited to only those we live with, most of us are beginning to see opportunity to slowly and carefully begin to expand our circles again.

We need this. And we're looking forward to it.

But, even as I look forward to this, I'm also struggling with what has seemed to become an unintended reality of what it may look like.

While the terminology used has been varied depending on who has made the announcement, the point has been that this expansion of circles needs to be done slowly and carefully. And from the conversations I've had and the comments I've read in various places, the understanding of how to do this is just as varied.

One of the most prevalent thoughts I've read has been about this meaning we need to choose one and only one family to add right now. And I understand the thinking about it. Another family, means there are adults for the parents to visit with and kids for the kids to do stuff with. In lots of ways it makes sense.

This is where I'm struggling though. It leaves me wondering where I fit? Where does a single person fit in this expansion of people's circles if it's all focused on families, and having two families that spend time together now?

Here's the thing . . . these last two months, I have spent more time alone than most who are not single. Yes, I know you were at home too. I know you have significant changes in your world. And you've had extensive time with just your family.

But, here's the big difference . . . it was you and your family in your house.

For me . . . in my house, it's been just me. Yes, I went to work - to work in an office by myself most of the time. Then I came home and spent evenings and weekends sitting in my house by myself.

So, forgive me if I'm a little frustrated by all the talk of just making things two families doing things together now. If that's the way we move forward, then this change means absolutely nothing for me. It still means I'm sitting at home alone all the time. It still means the need for community that God has given me is being ignored.

In response, I've had some people tell me that the people I add need to be my family. But, that kind of feels like a double standard. Why does the couple who is married with kids get to add people who aren't family to their circle and I don't?

If the only people you're going to add to your circle right now are your parents and your siblings, then maybe that comment is valid. But, if you're adding friends to your circle, then I'm left wondering why there's a double standard.

In fact, that kind of comment speaks right into the way we far too often treat single people as second-class citizens. There's one standard for families, and a different one for single adults - one that has different, unfair, and unrealistic standards for the single person.

That's not something I'm going to do any more. I've spent dedicated a lot of time on this blog in the last year to speaking about those thoughts, double standards, and challenges.

So, here's my plea: Don't forget the singles in your world right now.

If you stop and think about it, you'll probably be surprised by how many single people are in your world.

I know this is a time when we have to be careful and do things slowly, but don't forget the singles. Look for ways that you can safely include them in this time. Don't leave them sitting on the sidelines wondering why they still have to deal with the double standard.


Note: This is not a place to debate whether or not we should be making these changes. I will remove/edit all comments that try to take things in that direction.

Wednesday, April 29, 2020

Let's Stop Pretending we Have it All Together All the Time

We all need permission to not have it all together all the time. But, we don't usually feel like we have it.

This post was prompted by a song by a dear friend of mine on this same idea. As I listened to the song on the way home from work today, I was struck by what it said. God was using it to remind me and encourage me about some things I've been struggling with lately.

The truth is that we all need to feel like we have permission to be broken. We need to know it's okay to not be okay, to need each other, to let our brokenness be seen by others.

But, we don't usually operate this way. We try to cover it up, to pretend everything is good.

I've spent a lot of time in the last few days thinking about why we do this.

Why do we try so hard to hide our brokenness?

Why do we work so hard to look like everything is good?

It seems to me that we've gotten our thinking messed up here. We've believed the lie that we have to have it all together. That we have to be okay. That we have to be able to do it all, balance it all. And look good while doing it.

But then I look at Scripture and I see something very different presented. Galatians 6:2 tells us we should carry one another's burdens. We carry one another's burdens if we're busy trying to make it look like we've got it all together. To be able to carry each other's burdens we have to share what they are. And that means letting others know we're broken.

I was reminded of this last weekend. As I sat in my house at church online, I found that I was unable to sing the words to one of the songs. That song was declaring God's goodness. While I still absolutely believe God is goo, I was struggling with that in the moment.

And I realized I hadn't been letting anyone see or hear that struggle for a couple weeks. I had been working hard to present an image of having it all together in every situation, even though I was often barely holding on and getting through. All because I thought that's what I needed to do.

In that moment, I clicked on the option to ask for prayer and told the person who responded about my struggle. I gave myself permission to be broken and to let another person see it. And the response was full of grace and love.

That simple click and choosing to share changed so much.

It didn't instantly change everything to be good.

It didn't remove my struggle.

But, it let light in.

It reminded me I wasn't alone and didn't have to try to do it alone.

In it all, I was reminded of the importance of being honest and allowing our brokenness to be seen. I was reminded of the importance of carrying one another's burdens as Scripture tells us to. Of not just being the one to carry other's burdens, but also allowing others to carry mine.

So, let's stop pretending we have it all together all the time.

Let's give each other space and permission to be broken.

Let's learn to carry one another's burdens - both us carrying them for others and letting others carry ours.