April 2016

You Know What?

FiredI wrote last week about how Timmy (my 4-year-old) said I was the meanest mommy “in all the cities and towns” because I had told him he couldn’t watch a video. This week, I thought I’d give you an update about how things stand between Timmy and me.

Basically, I have been demoted from “best friend” status, then reinstated to that exalted rank, several times. My standing all depends on whether I’ve just tried to make Timmy do something he doesn’t want to do—or tried to make him stop doing something he does want to do.

Timmy is going through a stage where he gets really angry, and shows it. “Best friend” status is apparently something that can get revoked at any time if he wants to get back at me.

Such was the case tonight, when I told him (can you guess what’s coming?) that he couldn’t watch a video. After I had stood firm through several rounds of “But—but—please???”, Timmy marched over to me and said, “You know what? You’re not my best friend anymore!”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, at which point Timmy stomped off to his room and slammed the door.

In a way it was funny, and in a way, it wasn’t. What was especially “not funny” about it was that the exchange between Timmy and me mirrors pretty accurately how you and I interact with God sometimes.

We ask God for something, and He says no. So we get mad. We demote Him from “best friend” status, stomp off, and slam the door. When He’s improved His track record of pleasing us, we let Him be our best friend again—at least until the next time He doesn’t give us what we want.

When Timmy acted the way he did toward me, it was bad enough. But when you and I respond to God that way, it’s far, far worse. That’s because much as I love Timmy, I’m not perfect. Timmy is getting mad at—and attempting to punish—a very fallible human being. But when we get mad at God and withdraw from Him in a fit of pique, we’re rebelling against a completely infallible, completely perfect and holy God.

We say we believe God knows what’s best. We say we want His will in our lives. But just let Him do something we don’t like, or fail to do something we want Him to do, and we show by our reactions that we believe something very different.

It’s as if we’re saying that God has done the wrong thing and deserves to be punished.

But as if that’s not enough for us (myself included) to think about this week, there’s one more point I need to make about this incident, and that’s simply this: When Timmy railed against me, then turned his back on me, I didn’t stop loving him. I didn’t like what he did, but I didn’t stop loving him just because he temporarily withdrew a part of his affections from me.

And you and I better be pretty doggone grateful that God doesn’t stop loving us when we withdraw our affections from Him. Despite the fact that we, figuratively speaking (or maybe literally) stomp our foot at him, lash out verbally, and then withdraw, He doesn’t stop loving us.

When He extended His love to us, He did so for all time, not just for the times when we’re acting like we should. Which is a very good thing, because how often do we act like we should? A lot less than 100% of the time. We need to be very, very grateful that God’s love for us covers 100% of the time, even when our love for Him doesn’t. He puts up with an awful lot from us sometimes.

In the days to come, I expect my status with Timmy to fluctuate, because I’m one of those mean moms who doesn’t always let him do what he wants. But every time Timmy demotes me, I’m going to make it a point to remember that God never demotes me, no matter what. And I’m going to be grateful.

How will you remind yourself to be grateful for His unending love, instead of taking it for granted?

Lamentations 3:22—The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end. (NRSV)

When Satan Tries to Bring You Down

Christ and SatanSome days, the most exciting part of my day is when the kids’ bedtime arrives.

Such was the case the other day. I found Timmy playing games on his computer, and I told him media time was over. The following conversation ensued:

Me: “It’s time to get your jammies on.”

Timmy: “But I want to play on my computer!”

Me: “Sorry. It’s bedtime.”

Timmy: “Can I watch TV after I get my jammies on?”

Me: “No. I’ve told you it’s time for bed.”

Timmy (sadly): “I don’t think you’re my best friend anymore.”

Me: “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Timmy (sadly): “I think you’re the meanest mommy in all the cities and towns.”

Me: “Hmm, that’s too bad.”

Timmy (sadly): “I don’t think anybody likes you.”

I must admit that I found the conversation funny, in a way. Poor Timmy was trying so hard to manipulate me into doing what he wanted. And for a just-turned-four-year-old, his attempts were actually pretty skillful. I mean, think about it: Timmy took my desire to be connected with him and to have people like and approve of me and used it against me. At four years old, I think that reflects pretty impressive thinking skills.

You know who else besides our children loves to try to manipulate us by using our legitimate desires against us? Satan.

Does any of these statements Satan loves to whisper in our ears sound familiar to you? Maybe more than one?

“Nobody likes you.”

“You’re a loser.”

“You’re not good enough.”

“You’re not capable enough.”

“Anybody could do that better than you.”

“You’re getting it all wrong.”

“You’re a screw-up.”

“If you were just prettier/smarter/skinnier/more talented…..”

How many sins have we committed in the name of proving ourselves worthy of love, or capable? How many times have we failed to stick to our guns because we didn’t want people to dislike us? How many times have we done the wrong thing, or failed to do the right thing, because we valued our emotional comfort over the spiritual blessings that come from pleasing God?

Our desire for people to like us isn’t wrong. It’s what helps us bond to one another. Neither is our desire for people’s approval necessarily wrong. When our legitimate desires become problems is when we place the fulfillment of those desires as a higher priority than obeying God.

What does Satan whisper in your ear? What is it he tells you that tempts you to make a desperate attempt to fulfill that desire, no matter what you have to do (or give up) to gain the fulfillment?

Whatever it is, I can guarantee you this—it’s probably not even true. Satan is the father of lies (see John 8:44). He will whisper anything in your ear if he thinks it will get you to do what he wants. He doesn’t care if it’s true—he only cares if it works.

When he comes to you and tries to tempt you, you have a choice. You can either buy into what he says, that you would be more emotionally fulfilled if you do what he wants. Or, you can stand firm in your belief that the spiritual blessings God provides from doing the right thing are far more fulfilling than avoiding the emotional pain Satan threatens you with.

And you can remember this: that Satan’s goal is to destroy you. Utterly ruin you. Lay your life to waste. Wipe you out. Anything he suggests you do will lead you toward devastation, if you do it. That’s why he has to get you to think you’re protecting yourself by listening to him. See—even that is a lie!

On the other hand, God’s goal is to give you abundant life. He wants to fill you with a spiritual joy that’s beyond all imagining. He wants to make you a shining example of His goodness and glory in a dark, dark world.

So which will it be? Will you listen to Satan’s voice, or to God’s?

When it comes time to choose, remember this: You can’t reach joy by heading toward hell.

John 10:10—The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. (NIV)

When You Want to Help…But You Don’t Really Want To

BeansWhenever it sounds like I’m doing something fun, my four-year-old son, Timmy, is very eager to help. One of the things that ranks right up there at the top of his “Fun Things to Do” list is cooking. So the other day, when I announced that I was going to make lunch, Timmy asked excitedly, “Can I help? Can I help?”

“Sure, Timmy,” I said as he followed me into the kitchen. I was planning on serving fajitas, so I added, “First, you can help me by putting the beans in this bowl.”

“I don’t think I can do that,” Timmy said.

“Do you want me to help you?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Timmy said, not even looking at the beans.

So I put all the beans in the bowl. Then I said, “Now you can stir them.”

“Uh…you do it,” Timmy said as he stood on the step stool at the counter, twirling back and forth and grinning.

I had thought Timmy wanted to help. And usually, he’s very eager to do anything I allow him to do in relation to cooking. But that time, he was more interested in standing on the stool next to me and playing.

Isn’t that how it often is with you and me, but in relation to God? We tell Him we want to help Him. We tell Him what a privilege it is to participate with Him in His work, and how grateful we are that He would use us. But then when He asks us to do something, we say, “Uh…no thank you.”

Just like Timmy, what we really want is not to help God, but to have fun. If we can do both at the same time, great. But if it comes down to choosing one or the other, far too often, we choose fun over helping God. Either that, or we do what He’s asked, but grudgingly.

We both know how God feels about that. In fact, Jesus told a parable about a man who asked his two sons to help him. One son said no, but then later changed his mind and helped. The other son immediately said yes, but then when it came down to it, he did nothing. Jesus made it very clear that the one who pleased his father was the one who did what his father wanted, not the one who said he would help but then couldn’t be counted on when the time came.

Which son are you? Which am I? Both of us would say we want to do God’s will. But when God asks something of us that we don’t want to do, which son will we be like? Will we choose to do as the Father asks? Or will we show Him that we didn’t really want to help him after all?

Matthew 21:28-31—“What do you think? There was a man who had two sons. He went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work today in the vineyard.’ ‘I will not,’ he answered, but later he changed his mind and went. Then the father went to the other son and said the same thing. He answered, ‘I will, sir,’ but he did not go. Which of the two did what his father wanted?” (NIV)