criticism in discernment's clothing

So, a recent trip to a chiropractor who I would love to describe as "cooky" - to say the least - landed me in a puddle of thought for the moment. I am a highly discerning person. Just ask me, because I've told myself that time and time again. My first reaction to any new thought, especially in (though not limited to) theological circles, is to scoff first, question later, and reluctantly admit a limited amount of fault if, indeed, I am wrong. Open-minded is about the furthest thing from a description of me that you could get.

Of course I'm not saying that this is wrong. I can happily inform you that I have never been swayed from the truth by a passing whim or occultic breeze, but at times I have been woefully slowed from my sanctification by my unwillingness to lend myself to where the Lord is seeking to grow me.

I guess the heart of the issue, the meat of my struggle, lies in finding the line between critical negativity and true, biblical discernment. Beyond any doubt, it is necessary in this fallen world to weigh heavily the ideas and values expressed in the many different worldviews that are prevalent in our culture. In a postmodern time of everyone doing what they think is right(hmmm... doesn't that sound a lot like the end of Judges?). I mean, how many times does Paul tell us to be discerning, to be wary of false teachers, etc? We must be discerning, knowing what we believe and being able to recognize deceptive and false teaching when we hear it. But is there a point at which we can become too critical?

I find myself often blasting a good, Bible-believing pastor or teacher because they said one thing that might not completely align itself with what I believe. This is bad. BUT, I make no apology for my willingness to "test the spirits" (1 John 4:1) and to flag a false prophet when I see one and am scripturally convinced of his deception. As Christians, we should be incessantly concerned with demonstrating purity of God's holy and inerrant word. Preach the Word, without additives.

Ok, so I diverge and ramble a bit. All to say, I struggle with finding the line between being discerning of the false doctrines that exist in multitudes, and being closed off in heart and mind to the true work of the Spirit in the world. My chiropractor is still a goofy wackadoo, and will remain such. He's theologically just flat wrong. But it did spark a good inner dialogue, and an opportunity for self-examination on things spiritual and internal is never bad.

unconditional love

(A short story I composed in August, 2005, while studying church history)

He has come here with her in mind. Seeking a bride, the pure, spotless virgin He desires. But the woman He has sought has forgotten the imminence of His return. Although she is marked for His husbandship, the ring of His engagement sealed on her left hand, she whores herself before His very eyes and prostitutes herself on every pleasure that flatters her. She rebels wildly against the Love of her life, the purity of her spotless Groom. The Man she loves so deeply, she despises with her actions and her thoughts. She wars against the deepness of His love, the penetration of His desire for her, and the purity of His patience.

When He comes for her, will she respond to Him? Is she so caught in her lusts and passions that she will not recognize the Lover of her youth? Will she anticipate the One of whom it is said, “Behold, He is coming, climbing on the mountains, leaping on the hills! My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. Behold, He is standing behind our wall, He is looking through the windows, He is peering through the lattice.” (Song of Songs 2:9)? He longs to find her waiting, yearning for Him the way that He does for her. He looks at His bride, whom He bought. Her price was His very life, which He considered no price too high for the bride of His desire. He looks at her with love, He sees in her a virgin bride, not the prostitute of worldly loves. She is lovely to Him.

The bride mourns over her indiscretions. She longs to present herself to her Groom, she trembles at the knowledge of His coming. Although she has followed her flesh down the path of destruction, into the beds of lesser men, she longs for her Lover with an unquenchable fire. For His hold was her body created, for His pleasure was her life preserved. She cries out for Him, “On my bed night after night I sought Him whom my soul loves; I sought Him but did not find Him.” (Song of Songs 3:1) Though many men have known her, only One will fill her and complete her. Only then will her joy be made full, when she is resting in the arms of her Lover.

He seeks her now. The Groom patiently pursues His bride. He is waiting to return to her, as she is being perfected and made beautiful. Although she will never be worthy of Him, she will stand before Him on their wedding day, the most beautiful of all brides, glowing in the presence of His glory. For it is He who makes her beautiful. Without Him she is nothing but a common whore, but in His presence she shines from His glory, reflecting His love in her eyes. He has purified her by His purity. And on their wedding day He will look upon the bride of His choosing and say, “You are altogether beautiful, My darling, and there is no blemish in you. “ (Song of Songs 4:7)

identity as an act of submission

Marriage does strange things to a person. It brings up thoughts that you've never thought before, highlights sin patterns that have remained unnoticed (or even dormant) waiting for the perfect opportunity to attack your spouse (sometimes seemingly completely apart from your own will!), and many other strange phenomena that you never knew you were capable of. But it can also bring to the forefront spiritual applications that were never evident until marriage drew such clear correlations for you.

One of these that has become abundantly clear to me is that of identity. Especially as that for a bride. I've had something of an identity crisis for the last few weeks as I abandon the last name I've known since birth (and been able to spell since I was 16) for a new last name, that of my husband. While I am greatly excited by this new life, and the symbol of that life being the abandonment of my last name for his, it incited feelings I never expected. Feelings of loss, even a little grief, frustration... at times I look at my new name spelled out on a work document or such and think "who is that person???" In some ways I desire to cling to the safety of that old last name, as I've known myself as that person for so long.

The struggle I've been experiencing called to mind a deeper struggle of identity that I've faced (and am facing), as are many of you. That of the transition into being the Bride of Christ. 1 Corinthian 5:17 says, "Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!"

Abundantly good words, packed with meaning for those of us who have surrendered our lives to Christ. We have died to the old self and been reborn as someone entirely new, a member of Christ's church, His very bride. Along with that, we have changed our "name," we are no longer associated with that life of sin we lived but now have a new life which was given to us by Christ. We now have Christ's family name. Just like I now, in the physical sense, have Scott's family name.

This creates an identity crisis like no other. Christ asks that we no longer be associated with that old "family" that we were born into, the family of sin, but to instead take on His family and His name. And just like taking Scott's name, my taking Christ's name is an act of submission.

I submit to my husband, and the outward symbol of that submission is my being called a Mitchell. I am under his headship, I look to him above anyone else on earth for my spiritual and physical guidance. He has given me his name, and I willingly follow him.

Christ has chosen me as his bride, and He has given me His name as a Christian. I submit to Him willingly, and He conforms me into His family. Now, if I could just stop holding on to the name I was born with...

a great disappointment

Forgive me the highly depressing nature of this post. But what do you do when your Christian walk and your life disappoints you? Seriously, we all have times when that happens, it's just taboo when we actually say it. Well, I'm not afraid. I'll say it.

I'm disappointed. In myself, in the current dry state of my walk with the Lord, and with what I expect out of my Christian life.

It seems that we always have great ability to look at our healing bodies or our new cars our big paychecks and say, "The Lord has blessed me." But what about the body that won't heal, the exhaustion that won't go away, the frustration that sees no quenching? What about when I'm an emotional wreck and am driving everyone around me, including myself, insane?

It's at times like these, when I feel no comfort, when I take no joy away from my times in the Word, when it feels, truly, like God is far away and unconcerned with my struggling self, that I turn and realize that I feel like God has let me down. Right now, I want to enjoy my new marriage. I want to be happy and flirty and healthy. But that's not what God has given me and I resent it.

But I don't deserve that. I can tell my spoiled self that God has forgotten me, or I can open up my eyes and realize that I don't deserve to have my health and my joy restored. I don't deserve to even live. I have sinned, horifically, and I deserve the punishment of eternal death. Tortuous, arduous, painful, death. But that's not what I've gotten. I've been shown mercy, forgiveness, love like I will never really understand.

So here I am, and for now I'll remain. Caught somewhere in the middle between my knowledge of what God has done for me, that I am truly blessed beyond comprehension, and the emotive response of my heart to feel frustrated and angered that I cannot have what I want right now.

For now, there is my emotional vomit. The depths of my soul spilled out, a little child whining because she cannot get what she wants... and yet I still seek fervently the answer to it all, the ability to praise right now when it seems impossible, and a chance to live a faith that seems numb. Lord give me strength for the next 5 minutes, and then I'll worry about what comes after that.