July 2012

Counterfeit

I bet counterfeit-money-making operations are a lot more sophisticated than what I imagine.

Even though I know better, in my mind, I always imagine a few guys hunched over machinery in their basement, cranking out—literally, as in actually using a crank—sheets of fake twenties.

See what I mean? Real counterfeiting is probably a lot different. It’s a lot more complex, because the counterfeiters know they have to make a product that closely resembles the real thing.

Okay, so let’s say some counterfeiters did a really good job, and their fifties and twenties are hardly distinguishable from the authentic stuff. And let’s say there was a pile of this pretty-good counterfeit money right in front of you. A million-dollar pile.

Let’s also say that right next to the cool million in fake money is another pile. Only, this pile is made of real money. It not only looks real, it is real. And it’s a much bigger pile. There’s fifty billion dollars of it. That’s right, a 5, and 10 zeroes. $50,000,000,000.

One million in fake money. Fifty billion of the real thing. And you have a choice. You can choose either pile you want.

Now that’s what you call a no-brainer. No sane person would choose money minted in somebody’s basement over money minted by the United States Treasury Department.

Maybe not. Yet we make far more foolish choices every day.

We choose to seek the love of human beings (represented by the pile of fake money, because even the best human love is never fully authentic) instead of God’s love (the bona fide $50,000,000,000). We spend all our time and energies pursuing what appears to be real because it seems huge to us, when little do we realize that it’s a mirage.

Even the best love a human being can give is only a shadow of what our heavenly Father offers us. And because it’s not the best, because it doesn’t originate from God Himself, human love will never satisfy us. Yet we think it will. We can’t imagine anything greater than a million bucks, so that’s what we pursue.

If we only understood that our other option is worth $50 billion (actually, it’s worth far more)! The mere million would pale into insignificance.

We are badly deceived. Satan and society have convinced us that human love is better than God’s. It’s more exciting, more comforting, more real. And we buy into the lie hook, line, and sinker, despite everything the Bible tells us. We keep insisting that we want the million bucks, and we have no clue that God is trying to offer us $50 billion. As C.S. Lewis wrote, “It would seem that Our Lord finds our desires not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.”

If we put all our energies to pursuing human love, we are destined for disappointment. If we pursue God Himself, He will pour out His love upon us in such measure that we can’t even absorb it all. In fact, He already has, and we haven’t fully recognized it! 1 John 3:1 says, “How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!” We’ve already received the fifty billion bucks, and we’re still looking for some Monopoly money.

If only we could truly grasp how wide and long and high and deep the love of God is! If only we had more than the faintest inkling of what His love is like, we’d never again be satisfied with merely human love. Instead of expending our emotional energy trying to get people to love us properly, we’d be throwing ourselves into God’s lap, or at His feet, and wrapping our arms around Him the way a two-year-old wraps her arms around her mother when she doesn’t want Mommy to leave. We’d experience the love that is vastly more than what our mind can understand, but exactly what our heart was made to receive. And we’d spend the rest of our life and then eternity marveling that we ever thought we could be content with anything less.

1 John 3:1—How great is the love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God! And that is what we are!

Ephesians 3:16-20—I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

This I Know

Jesus loves me; this I know,
For the Bible tells me so.
Little ones to Him belong.
They are weak, but He is strong.

Yes, Jesus loves me.
Yes, Jesus loves me.
Yes, Jesus loves me.
The Bible tells me so.

For many years, I thought of this song as rather sweet but not terribly meaningful. At least, it wasn’t very meaningful to me. Yeah, yeah, Jesus loves me. Jesus loves everybody. Big deal.

But lately, this simple children’s song has become an eloquent and momentous expression of a truth that has only relatively recently begun to seep its way deep into my heart and soul.

You see…Jesus loves me. I mean, really loves me. Not just loves me because “For God so loved the world,” and I’m in the world, so He’s sort of obligated to include me in that. But loves ME. Me, Megan. Just the way I am, with my particular personality make-up, my interests, my abilities. Even my imperfections and all (though He’ll help me work on these). Jesus loves ME.

My friend, He loves you too. You, just the way you are, with your personality, your interests and abilities, your quirks and shining moments and imperfections. Not just because He “has” to—because He most certainly does not HAVE to love you, or me, or anybody. But because you are dear to Him. Because you have a special place in His heart. Not because of any quality you bring to the table, but just because you’re you.

There will be people in our lives who don’t love us the way we hope they would or believe they should. And that hurts.

When there is someone whose love we desire, but who doesn’t give us that love, we have a choice. We can either stay stuck in our grief and disappointment, or we can turn to the only One who can ever love us completely.

Even if that person in your life did love you as he or she should, you still wouldn’t feel completely loved. Why? Because only God can meet the innermost needs of your soul. Only He can truly fill your heart to bursting with all the love you have received. And only He always and forever, without fail and without fault, wants to do so.

We can either stay stuck in our emptiness…or we can turn to God.

If we choose the first option, we stay empty and sad. If we choose the second, we choose abundant emotional life.

I know which option I want, and I bet you want that option too.

So how do we turn to God? How do we get to the point in our relationship with Him where we feel His love so strongly that even when human beings turn their back on us, we know that we know that we KNOW, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we’re loved? And not just that we know it in our head, but that we feel it in our heart?

We spend time with God. We get to know Him.

I know that might sound like a too-simplistic answer, but I promise you, it’s not. I’ve tried it and found that it has worked in my life beyond all I’ve asked or imagined. That’s because when you spend time with God, you get to know Him. And when you truly know Him, the only possible response is to grow in your love for Him. And as you grow, your heart opens to Him, and somehow, He fills your heart with love in the way that only He can.

It’s not an instant process. It’s not even a quick process. If you’ve been hurt badly, it might take years of getting to know God and asking Him to help you receive His love before you truly begin to feel it. But even before you begin to feel it, it’s there all the same. And it always was.

You see, God loved you from before the world began, He loves you now, and He will love you throughout all eternity. First, you’ll come to believe it. Then you’ll ask Him to help you absorb it. And then, finally, you’ll begin to feel it, and you’ll know that even when the people on earth who should have loved you, didn’t—Jesus did. Even now while they don’t love you, He does. And even if they never come to love you in the future, He always will.

Jesus loves me! This I know,
For the Bible tells me so.

No love from any human being on earth could possibly be more perfectly deep and complete than that.

Psalm 27:10—When my father and my mother forsake me, then the LORD will take me up .

Smells Like Breakfast

Recently my husband had to attend a work-related conference in our state capital. Since the conference lasted only one day, and since his employer was paying for the hotel the night before, we decided that the kids and I would accompany him, and we’d stay a little longer and turn it into a mini-vacation.

For three nights, we stayed in a nice hotel. In the mornings, the hotel served a hot breakfast downstairs. One morning, Phil took a kid or two down to breakfast, and I followed later with the remaining kids once the rest of us were ready.

The elevator arrived, and my kids dashed on (good thing nobody was trying to get off). I followed them, and as I turned to tell Jessica which button to push, I noticed a delicious aroma. It was the smell of hot and sizzling sausage patties with fluffy scrambled eggs on the side. It was warm, golden-brown buttermilk waffles, sugary maple syrup, and melting butter. It was orange juice and ripe strawberries and fresh black coffee.

“Mmmm, this elevator smells like breakfast,” I said.

Perhaps the aroma had wafted up from downstairs; perhaps people who had been to breakfast had also been in the elevator. Maybe it was a combination of both. Either way, that delicious food was giving off the aroma of, well, food.

Obvious, right? After all, what else would a delicious breakfast smell like but a delicious breakfast?

And that’s the point. If it is, in fact, a delicious breakfast, it will smell like one. It will give off the aroma of yummy food, and it will cause those smelling it to become even hungrier. If, on the other hand, the foods are not fresh and healthy, the breakfast will smell quite different. Rotten eggs give off quite a different smell from fresh ones. Stale coffee smells terrible. Waffles cooked a little too long smell burnt. There’s no way to disguise a breakfast like that as anything someone would want to eat.

Did you know that you and I give off an aroma too? I’m not talking about smelling a little funny because you’ve been working out. Nor do I mean smelling floral because you are wearing perfume. I’m talking about the kind of aroma referred to in 2 Corinthians 2:14 (see below), wherein God desires to spread the knowledge of His Son to everyone with whom we come in close proximity.

The only problem is, we may not be spreading the right aroma.

Instead of spreading the aroma of Christ, His love, and His ways, it’s entirely possible to be spreading the stench of hatred and impatience. Instead of emanating a beautiful aroma of sacrifice, truth, and uprightness, we can instead emit the stink of selfishness, falsehood, and disgrace.

You and I spread an aroma to everyone with whom we come in contact. That’s a given. The only thing to be settled is what kind of aroma. When people step into the elevator of our lives, will they be pleased and want more of what we have? Or will they get out of the elevator, hurry back to their room, and vow never to eat breakfast again?

Take some time in prayer before the Lord. Ask Him to show you what people sense when they are around you. Do you spread the pleasing aroma of Christ, or do people retreat from you?

Breakfast gives off the scent of, well, breakfast. What scent results from your life?

2 Corinthians 2:14-15—But thanks be to God, who always leads us in triumphal procession in Christ and through us spreads everywhere the fragrance of the knowledge of him. For we are to God the aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing.

The Motherhood Olympics

I absolutely love the Olympics. I normally don’t watch much TV, but when the Olympics are on, I watch all day long. Doesn’t even matter what sport it is (though my favorite is gymnastics). Anything Olympics-related is simply awesome.

I love the sports aspect of it. I love the pageantry. I love the emotional highs and lows. I also love what a wonderful opportunity it is to teach my children. You can teach about everything from sports to geography, science to foreign languages to math. But the best lessons of all are about character.

From watching and discussing the Olympics, children can learn about diligence; endurance; being a good sport; how to deal with discouragement; how to act around people who are different from you; and how to determine what really matters in life (the answer’s not “being #1”).

Sounds like lessons we as moms need to learn, too, especially since we participate in our own kind of Olympics—the Motherhood Olympics.

In the Motherhood Olympics, there are some team sports and some individual sports. Each of us is enrolled in some events in each category. There are some things we must have the help of others to do; there are some where we’re largely on our own.

In either case, we have to train for our events. We need to work at being able to do well in motherhood. An Olympic athlete doesn’t win her event by accident. It takes training and endurance practiced over a period of years. Likewise, we moms won’t succeed at parenting by accident. We need to put effort into it. This should include, first of all, staying close to the Lord and seeking His wisdom. But it might also include things like reading books, listening to sermons, consulting others, being proactive, and making plans.

But there are two important differences between the Motherhood Olympics and the traditional Olympics. The first difference is that moms don’t pursue a gold medal; they pursue the goal of hearing Jesus say, “Well done.” And unlike the traditional Olympics, women in the Motherhood Olympics are guaranteed to win. Will they be perfect? No. But they can be faithful. In the traditional Olympics, perfection or near-perfection is what wins you the medal. In the Motherhood Olympics, what wins you Jesus’ approval is faithfulness.

The second important difference is that unlike the traditional Olympics, in the Motherhood Olympics, everyone can win. When you’re an Olympic gymnast, swimmer, or runner, it’s technically possible that someone else could share the gold medal with you. But it’s highly unlikely. Even if it does happen, the odds against more than two people sharing first place are astronomical (unless it’s a team sport).

In the Motherhood Olympics, however, billions of moms can win. That’s because, as we said earlier, all that’s required to win is faithfulness. Be faithful with the husband you are given (if you are married), the children you are given, and the resources you are given, and you will win.

It’s simple, though not easy. But then, training for an Olympic event never is. Yet you never hear an athlete standing atop the podium saying, “You know, this wasn’t worth all that work.” Hardly! They all say, “It was worth it…all the long hours…all the effort…all the exhaustion…the money…the pain….”

Likewise, you never hear a mom who receives Jesus’ approval say, “This isn’t worth it.” Instead, she says, “It was so worth it… all the long hours…all the effort…all the exhaustion…the money…the pain….”

You’re in the race, mom, like it or not. You are at the Olympics. The crowd—which consists of others who have gone before you, not to mention your precious family—is watching you. How will you run? Will you give it everything you’ve got?

I guarantee you that nothing is worth more than winning this one.

Hebrews 12:1—Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.

Pigeons on the Diamond

I love baseball. I can’t tell you the stats of every player or which team does what, but I love the game. I could watch it every day and never get tired. That’s why receiving the generous gift of front-row tickets right behind home plate at our local ballpark has been one of the highlights of my summer for the past three years.

This year, I was sitting in my leather-padded seat watching the opening moments of the game. My husband and baby son Timmy sat to my left; two friends sat to my right. The players were right there on the field getting ready at home plate, so close that if I had called out to them, they could easily have heard me.

Then I noticed that the players weren’t the only ones on the field. A couple of pigeons strutted around not too far from the plate, stopping now and then to peck at something in the turf. I found this amusing. While the ballgame was going on all around them (with 46,711 people in attendance), while important human things were taking place just yards from them, those pigeons just went about their pigeon-y business, oblivious to the spectacle.

 

That’s why I found it amusing—the incongruity of the pageantry of a sold-out major league baseball game juxtaposed against a a couple of pigeons who didn’t care.

They were a great illustration of how we human beings sometimes get too full of our own importance.

That’s one of the things about being a human: it’s really easy to focus on ourselves. We build ourselves up in our own minds until we deserve all the hoopla we surround ourselves with. We come to think we deserve the adulation of crowds of people (or at least the members of our family). Whenever we step up to the plate, people should take notice. Everybody should care.

When we discover that there are pigeons in our lives—that there are people who aren’t impressed with our greatness—we often become irritated. That person doesn’t appreciate me, we say to ourselves, and we feel that we are righteously angry.

There’s only one problem with that: we aren’t playing for the pigeons.

Josh Hamilton, one of baseball’s greatest players, played in the game that night. He stood at the plate while the pigeons ignored him. But He wasn’t playing for the pigeons. He wasn’t even playing for the fans either, really. Josh is a Christian, and he understands about playing for the Audience of One.

I wonder if you and I really understand that, and I’m afraid we don’t. Too often, we play for the pigeons. Even more often, we play for the people in the stands. Granted, we may need to serve those people in the stands, but they’re not our ultimate audience. Our supreme Audience is Christ. Or at least, He should be.

Mom, you’re going to be called to step up to the plate today. Several times, in fact. You’ll have to approach the plate repeatedly and take your best swing no matter what life throws at you. If your swing isn’t what the crowd is hoping for, there might be silence. There might even be boos. Either way, the pigeons won’t care.

What will you do then? Will you throw your bat to the ground and yell at everybody in the ballpark that they should have appreciated you more? Or will you focus on your Audience of One, knowing that He always loves and appreciates you?

On the other hand, perhaps you’ll do something the crowd likes, and they’ll cheer you. Will you run the bases and then stop at home plate, your hands in the air, acknowledging the crowd’s approval, but forgetting all about your other Audience?

Mom, think about Whom you’re playing for. It’s not the crowd. It’s certainly not the pigeons. It’s the Audience of One. The only One who really matters. Any cheers you get from those around you are just background noise—nice, but not all that important. What matters is what the Audience thinks.

Whom would He say you’re playing for today?

Colossians 3:23-24—Whatever you do, do your work heartily, as for the Lord rather than for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance. It is the Lord Christ whom you serve.