Just 10 Percent

Bible teacher and author Chuck Swindoll is credited with saying, “I am convinced that life is 10 percent what happens to me and 90 percent of how I react to it. And so it is with you. We are in charge of our attitudes.” When I was younger, I liked this quote, but I quibbled with the numbers. Surely, we are in control of our reactions and attitudes. And our circumstances don’t determine our lives completely. But just 10%?! What about those whose circumstances are overwhelmingly tragic?

Photo by Denniz Futalan on Pexels.com

I thought of some of my father’s experiences, and it seemed as though what happened to him in four short years should have had a greater impact on his life. During the four short years that my father was in high school (1945-1948), his family experienced at least three tragedies. Dad grew up on a farm. His dad was a dairy farmer, as was his grandfather. Dad grew up expecting that he would, along with his father and brothers, spend the rest of his life as a farmer. But then, everything changed. First, Dad’s oldest brother was drafted into the Army at the very end of World War 2. Though my uncle was not in combat, he was badly wounded in Germany, as his unit was sent in to find unexploded bombs and land mines, and ordered to clear out rubble. Dad had lost one cousin in the war, and several others had come home wounded or changed, but this was post-war, and unexpected. It meant more work for my grandfather and the two younger sons, even as they were still in school. It meant uncertainty, as they waited for word from thousands of miles away over several months.

Photo by RODNAE Productions on Pexels.com

Uncle Jack recovered and returned to the farm. But then, on Christmas Eve, there was a house fire. While the family escaped without major injuries, the house was a total loss. Furniture, clothes, pictures, heirlooms, farm records and financial papers– all gone. Dad moved in with his aunt and uncle to continue his education. But two weeks before graduation, his father died suddenly from complications from emergency gall bladder surgery. My father’s world had been turned upside-down in just a few short years and at a critical juncture in his life.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

However, as I’ve matured and thought about it over the years, those events, among other tragedies and triumphs in Dad’s life, really DID only amount to a small percentage of his life. Even numerically/chronologically, those four years were less than ten percent of Dad’s time on earth. Dad couldn’t control the events of those years. He couldn’t have predicted them, and he couldn’t erase them or go back and undo them. But he chose how to respond and react to those events. He learned from them.

Circumstances in our lives, whether tragic or terrific, present us with choices. Will we turn to God, or away from Him? Will we become better, or bitter? Will we seek to assign blame, or seek solutions? My dad and his brothers were not able to continue the dairy farm their father had built up. Without the records and registration papers for the various cows, without their father’s experience and acumen, without money to upgrade their facilities and equipment, they had to sell most of what their father had built up. Uncle Jack kept the farm land, but he took a second job. Dad was drafted and sent to Korea for his own post-war odyssey, and came home to work at the local feed mill, and later in a factory job. He passed away several years ago, partly as a result of complications from gall bladder surgeries.

My dad’s life was impacted and shaped in part by tragic circumstances. But Pastor Swindoll is right– at least 90 percent of my dad’s LIFE was shaped by his attitude and character. My father was a man of faith and integrity. He cherished his family and his role as a father– partly because of the loss of his own dad; but also because of the lasting legacy his father had passed on. He spoke often of his wonderful memories growing up on the farm. He lost out on his dream of being a farmer. But he also made wonderful memories with the life he chose to pursue off the farm– picnics and vacations, family reunions, family devotions, watching baseball (live or on TV), sharing laughter and tears, and making sure we knew we were loved and protected. He ministered to people in the community, mowing lawns for widows, or visiting shut-ins. He taught us to love music, baseball, and animals. He taught us the value of prayer, reading the Bible, and living a life of faith. Dad could have been bitter. He could have chosen to wallow in self-pity or anger. He could have become obsessed with rebuilding the life he “lost” to circumstances. He could have decided that God had “robbed” him of the future he had expected to have. But he chose to believe that God had a plan for his life; one that was bigger than his boyhood dreams and bigger than his expectations. Dad didn’t rise to great wealth and power. In the world’s view, his life was not a great success. He never became rich or famous; he wasn’t powerful or important in politics or business. But the memories he treasured and the relationships he developed were far more than 10% of his life!

As I get older, and look back on the circumstances of my own past, I am encouraged and challenged to think that they represent only a small fraction of my life. I can’t control many of my circumstances– health setbacks, financial struggles, accidents and tragedies. But I can control my attitude and my response. I wanted to marry young and have children and raise a family. But that never happened. I married late, I was barren, and my step-children were already grown. I wanted to live in a big farmhouse; instead I live in a small apartment. But I would not go back and undo the circumstances that have shaped my life. I have marvelous step-children and grandchildren. I have had opportunities that were only possible because I was single for so long and because I was childless. I have a better appreciation for the family I have– including nieces and nephews and cousins– than I might have had if I had been wrapped up in my own smaller family. Dad taught me to trust God’s plans for my tomorrows. That’s what he did. And I choose to do the same– after all, God controls 100% of my future!

Who’s Your Daddy?

When I was growing up, I knew three important things about my father:
I knew he loved me–and the rest of our family–faithfully and truly.
I knew he loved God–He was a man of faith, prayer, integrity, and obedience to the Word.
I knew he would do anything to protect and provide for our family.

But I also knew that my Daddy wasn’t perfect. He was not the strongest man in the neighborhood; or the fastest, or richest, or most respected. He wasn’t the tallest, or most athletic. He wasn’t a leader in local politics or a chamber group or fraternal organization. He didn’t have a string of degrees, or a fleet of fancy cars. He didn’t even have a lot of hair, or perfect teeth. But he had a gentle laugh, a deep wisdom, and a hug that made me feel safe and precious. He had a enormous heart– one that was easily touched, but firmly committed. He was humble and kind; he was loyal and brave and joyful.

Photo by August de Richelieu on Pexels.com
Photo by Abdel Rahman Abu Baker on Pexels.com

I was blessed to have such a Dad. I know people whose earthly fathers were distant, disapproving, absent, or even abusive. Earthly dads, even one like mine, are still human. They make mistakes and bad choices; they carry baggage from their own childhoods; they carry fears and failures; they fall short of our expectations, and their own hopes and dreams. And yet, we long to have a father we can trust; a father who won’t fail us, even in the little things; a father who will perfectly understand us, provide for our needs, and protect us. No matter how old we are, or how successful we may be, our need for a father’s love and approval never end.

Our mental and emotional picture of God is often shaped by our relationship with our earthly fathers. Especially if our father was abusive, it can be difficult to believe that God really loves us. After all, if God loves me, why did He give me an abusive Dad? If God can protect me, why did He allow me to go through a journey with Cancer? Or poverty? Our fallen world leads us into circumstances that cause us to doubt God’s goodness and His ability to redeem our broken past. But, while God sees our painful circumstances, He also sees things that we can’t. He sees the pain that our fathers feel in their own brokenness and inability to “fix” their own past. He sees the kind of growth and compassion that we can learn in our difficulties– lessons that we would not learn in ease and apathy.

God is a different kind of Father. He is eternally sovereign; the King of Kings, and the Creator of the Universe. There is no comparing Him with anyone else’s father– because He is the Ruler and Father of all! Yet, He wants a close loving relationship with each one of us– with me! With you! He is not just committed to doing His best to provide and protect some of us– He is fully capable of providing ALL our needs and protecting us against ALL enemies, including sin and death! For those who have grown up with a distant or abusive father, it can be difficult to hear of God as our “Father” and feel the kind of comfort and trust that we are meant to have. Yet God invites us into His very presence– ALL the time; ANYTIME. He is everything that the word “Father” was meant to be!

Photo by Juhasz Imre on Pexels.com

Someone once used the analogy of President John F. Kennedy to describe how we can relate to God as “Father.”. As President, JFK was arguably the most powerful man in the world– the leader of the most powerful nation on earth. At his command, soldiers, sailors, pilots, and even nuclear missiles, could be deployed. The stroke of his pen could sign bills into law, grant pardons, and appoint powerful positions. To enter the Oval Office and have an audience with the President was an honor reserved for rulers and generals and authorities– and his children.

There is a picture of JFK, Jr. as a small boy, peeking out of the Resolute Desk, as his father sits behind the desk conducting the business of the nation. The son had complete access to his father’s presence– access to the most powerful man on earth–his Daddy. He may not have fully understood what his father was doing, or even how important his father was– but he knew that he could spend time with his Dad.

Of course, President Kennedy was not God. He was fallible, and terribly mortal, as the nation learned to its grief. But the idea that God is distant and uncaring, or even vindictive and petty, is belied by the many Psalms and hymns and prayers throughout the ages. And the idea that God is just another “pal”, or “the man upstairs”–someone who loves us, but has no real power to command our obedience or rescue us from our enemies–is also belied by the many miracles and examples of His power in nature and in history. And unlike the exclusive nature of the relationship between JFK and his biological children, God invites ANYONE who calls on Him through His Son to be adopted as a son/daughter with the same intimate privilege of total access. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John%201:11-13&version=HCSB (John 1:12)

So when I pray today, I’m not praying to my “Daddy” in any earthly sense. As much as my earthly Dad loved me, I am praying to someone who loves me more, and better, and perfectly. I am praying to the King of Kings, who also invites me to call him, “Abba”– “Dad.”

Our Father

Yesterday was Father’s Day. It can be a very difficult day for many people– a day of loss, of regret, of anger, and bitterness. There is an epidemic of people growing up with no fathers, absentee fathers, temporary fathers, or abusive fathers. And it can give us a very distorted view of Our Heavenly Father.

Photo by Lgh_9 on Pexels.com

They say that our earthly fathers often become the model of how we see God. If my father was passive, I may see God as apathetic or distant. If my father was demanding, I may see God as just, but not merciful. If my father was moody and unpredictable, I may see God as capricious and unfair. I grew up with a loving, gentle, and wise earthly father. But that doesn’t make me immune to distorted views of God. Dad was honest, a steady worker, a faithful husband, and a humble man of faith. But Dad wasn’t perfect– no father is.

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on Pexels.com

My husband’s father was another terrific Dad. He was a great storyteller, a diligent worker, a man of great faith, wisdom, and gentle humor. And, although he was a great Dad and worthy of respect, he wasn’t perfect, either. Both fathers reflected aspects of God’s love to our families, and I’m so grateful for their legacies.

Our tendency to view God through the lens of our earthly experiences can distort our view of who God is, but it can also distort our view of who WE are to God. David and I each grew up confident of our earthly fathers’ love and care, but that doesn’t mean that God somehow loved us more than my neighbor whose father died when he was just a child, or more that his friend whose father was cold and distant, or our friend whose father was a respected minister. God’s love doesn’t depend on how we view Him, or how we view our family circumstances. God’s love comes from who He is. And He desires a close, eternally loving relationship with each of us– one that transcends human shortcomings and limitations.

Photo by Josh Willink on Pexels.com

My mom was once asked if she had a “favorite” child. And her answer was, “I love them all the same, and I love them all differently.” God’s love for us as a father is the same. His love for each of us is eternal, incomprehensible, and constant. But it is also uniquely demonstrated in the way He guides us, disciplines us, and shows His compassion for us. We may never know the love of our earthly fathers; we may only know their failures, or their memory, or the emptiness where they should have been. But God is the ultimate Good, Good Father– the one we can always look up to; the one who always has our back.

As much as I loved my Dads, and miss their advice and laughter, steady guidance, and examples, they cannot compare to the incredible love and wisdom of Our Father. No matter what legacy our earthly fathers have left us, God’s love is better, wider, deeper, and more powerful.

Our Father…

I have known some excellent fathers– including my own father and my husband. Fathers who do their best to provide for, pray for, protect, and prepare their families. Fathers who show patience, perseverance, wisdom, and selflessness.

But I know this isn’t the case for everyone. I have also known some wicked fathers– fathers who are physically, verbally, and mentally abusive toward their wives and children. Fathers who abandon their responsibilities, and leave behind a legacy of need, chaos, anger, and despair.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Throughout the Bible, God is portrayed as a Father. Not as a “man”– Jesus took on flesh and became a man– but the Triune God exists as Father, Son, and Spirit. God has all the characteristics of a perfect father. God also embodies all the characteristics of a good mother. But there is something about Fatherhood that God particularly wants us to learn and understand.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

When God chose Abram for His special covenant, Abram’s name meant “exalted father.” But Abram was childless. God chose someone whose name had no meaning (or an ironic meaning), and changed it– not a lot–he added an “ah”, so that Abraham’s name meant “father of many” or “father of multitudes.” I don’t think it was any accident that God chose a man named “Abram,” or that He changed his name only slightly. God chose Abraham, not because he was a father, but so that he could become a father– to many! It was as a father (to Isaac, but also to Ishmael and all his other sons and descendants) that Abraham was exalted and revered.

Photo by Luis Quintero on Pexels.com

But Abraham was not a perfect father– far from it! God gave us the story of Abraham, and drew attention to Abraham to help us learn the importance of GOD as our Father. Abraham was willing to give up his heir– the son of God’s promise– because Abraham was a “son” of God before he was a father to Isaac. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Genesis+22&version=NIV

Even though I have known some excellent fathers, I know of only one who is perfect. And He isn’t someone else’s father, that I should be envious, or discouraged. He isn’t only “my” father, that I should be smug. He isn’t my father by birth, that I should make little of His sacrifices or His promises– they are not given out of duty or a sense of genetic obligation. He is OUR Father– He invites all of us to become His children. He lavishes love and grace, sheds tears and aches, sacrifices and pursues, rejoices and grieves– for and with every soul.

Photo by Josh Willink on Pexels.com

When Jesus taught His disciples to pray, He wasn’t giving them a rote prayer to memorize, but a pattern. https://www.crosswalk.com/faith/prayer/the-lords-prayer-be-encouraged-and-strengthened.html If you look through the Gospels at Jesus’ other prayers you will see it–He always begins by addressing His Father. For the group of disciples, He began with “Our Father.” Jesus, who could have claimed sole son-ship, made it clear that He (as Son with the Father and Spirit) desires this amazing relationship– more than power, more than honor, more than life! And God the Father is not a man or a mere mortal– He is Holy, Perfect, Eternally Loving and Eternally Sovereign!

Photo by Lgh_9 on Pexels.com

What a wonderful thought for Father’s Day this year– no matter what kind of earthly father(s) we have known!

Fruitful Families

Yesterday was my Grandmother’s birthday.  She passed away over 20 years ago, but I still cherish the memories I have of my time with her.  She was a woman of quiet dignity, gentle wisdom, and deep love for her family and neighbors.

Gramgrad

While I was still in my late teens and early twenties, my Gram started getting me interested in genealogy.  She had amazing stories that had been passed down through several generations, but she was unsure how many of them were “true” and how many had devolved into legend and half-truth.  Her stories became the first framework I used to research our family’s roots.  Over thirty years later, I have books and charts and databases filled with names, dates, stories, photos, mysteries, dead ends, twists and turns, surprises and more.  I have traced my own family, my husband’s family, related families, possible connections to famous people in history, and mapped out many of the locations where our families lived over the centuries.

architecture bridge clouds countryside
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

God created and instituted families, and I’m so grateful for mine.  In spite of the many tragedies and skeletons I’ve found along the way, one thing is clear.  God’s design for families is good and leads to hope, security, and fruitfulness.

All families are unique, but the design for families– the traditional family model–has been pretty consistent throughout the centuries and even across cultures.  It may not always be the “nuclear” family of a mother and father and two or three children in a single household.  Sometimes it is made up of multiple generations or nuclear groups sharing a house or living communally, and there have always been blended families, or single-parent households, but there is a consistent expectation of being able to trace one’s mother’s family line and father’s family line through at least two or three generations– knowing their names, where they were born, and when they lived and died.

As technology is advancing to make this kind of genealogical research even easier, society is pulling away from the traditional family model and making it harder and harder to find one’s “roots.”  Children live with a series of adults– “aunties” and “dads” who bear no biological relationship and no lifelong commitment to them.  Children whose fathers are nameless, faceless DNA donors, or whose parents left them to chase a career, or be with a new lover or a consuming addiction.  Grown children rebel and leave their families behind to mix and mingle with other free-floating adults, never desiring to continue a legacy of family ties.  Many people look upon this as “progress”– changing the definition of family…ironically, they use the term “relative” when talking about values and definitions, even as they redefine what it means to be a “relative.”

alone blond child cute
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

God doesn’t love us less if we don’t come from a traditional family– certainly, He is the God of the orphan, the fatherless, and the widow.

Psalm 68: 4-6: (NIV, courtesy of biblegateway.com)

 Sing to God, sing in praise of his name,
    extol him who rides on the clouds
    rejoice before him—his name is the Lord.
 A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows,
    is God in his holy dwelling.
 God sets the lonely in families,
    he leads out the prisoners with singing;
    but the rebellious live in a sun-scorched land.

God wants us in families– He wants us to grow and be fruitful.  “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” is a phrase often used about family members being alike in their thinking or actions or habits.  And so it is with families who grow and live together.  We may “fall” away from our birth families, and move miles away, but we will produce a new tree with the same fruit– fruit that nourishes communities and societies and new families.

red apples
Photo by Elizabeth Tr. Armstrong on Pexels.com

However, when we lose the pattern of families as God set them up, we lose a lot of other good things:

  • A sense of belonging–sure we all belong to the entire human race, and we shouldn’t become exclusive and tribal at the expense of our neighbors and others, but there is a point at which we want to know where we “fit” in the scheme of things.
  • Support and encouragement–I love my family; and I even like most of them!  But I recognize a bond that cannot be broken lightly, and it keeps pulling us together in good times and bad.  We are there for baby showers, funerals, weddings, house-warmings, graduations, and reunions.  As our family has grown, we can’t always be at every event, but I will never be without anyone.  There is a horrible epidemic of people who ARE living and dying alone– no family to visit or be visited; no family to talk to, or argue with, or share memories.  This breaks my heart, and it breaks the heart of the God who made us to be “relational.”
  • History and legacy–My life has a purpose and fits into a plan.  I am uniquely “ME”, yet I am also a daughter, sister, wife, step-mom, grandma, aunt, and cousin (and second-cousin once-removed, etc.).   I didn’t just appear out of thin air, and I won’t disappear without leaving a trace.  The choices I make don’t just impact my life.  This is important regardless of my history–I am the one who can change a bad legacy into a great heritage, or ruin a heritage and leave a legacy of pain for those I leave behind.

superdad

  • Role models–Having roles within a family prepares us for having roles at work and in our communities– we learn to speak out, and to listen; we learn to ask for and offer help; we learn to respect others and earn the respect of those around us.  We don’t learn these lessons perfectly, because there are no perfect families.  But families provide a structure and pattern for teaching life lessons that is time-tested and approved.  Busy parents are aided by grandparents, uncles, and older siblings and cousins in modeling good behavior, correcting bad behavior, and answering questions ranging from “the birds and the bees” to how to braid hair or tie a necktie.  When that structure is missing, young people fall through the cracks in ways both small and crucial.
  • Seeing how God’s love works through the ages.  God doesn’t just love in spurts and impulses.  God’s love is eternal, and meant to be shared from generation to generation and spread from family to family.

 

I pray today that, just as my grandmother encouraged my love of family, that I will leave a legacy of love and faith for others in my life– those who are family by blood, and those who have become the family of my heart.  And I hope that others will pray for our families to stay true and strong and fruitful, too.

man standing beside his wife teaching their child how to ride bicycle
Photo by Agung Pandit Wiguna on Pexels.com

M.I.A.

Yesterday was Father’s Day.  Father’s Day can be very difficult for many people– in my case, it can be a reminder of how much I miss my Dad, who passed away 20 years ago.  Some of my friends have had recent experience in losing a beloved father.  For some, the hurt is still there after 50 years, or 70.

For others, it is a difficult day, not because they grieve the loss of a father to death, but because they grieve the absence of a loving father– an absentee father, an unknown father, an abusive father, or a distant, cold, or critical father.

man wearing black zip up hooded jacket standing
Photo by Tamar Willoughby on Pexels.com

At this point, I generally point to the Father who is eternally loving and faithful– Our Heavenly Father is God of the fatherless and the orphan, the God of restoration and reconciliation.  No matter where our earthly fathers are or have been, God is always right by our side.

All that is true, but I want to share something that’s been bothering me.  I scrolled down my FB feed, and listened in at church, and talked to a restaurant owner, and looked at the card section at the store.  And there’s something missing.  It’s not that we don’t honor fathers.  I saw a lot of wonderful tributes to dads, husbands, brothers, and sons.  I saw sons sitting with their recently widowed father at church; a son honoring his father by taking him out to eat; fathers and sons wearing awesome matching shirts with fun messages, and lots of old photos of dads with their families in years past, as well as newer pictures of dads with goofy toddlers, and pretty girls in prom dresses, and holding newborns.

selective focus and color photography of man looking at her girl sitting on garden swing white holding bouquet of flower in brown wicker basket
Photo by Kha Ruxury on Pexels.com

We honor fathers, but we do not honor Fatherhood.  We seem awkwardly proud and surprised when fathers actually show up and do their job.  We make it seem easy, even brainless, in comparison to the work of a mother.  In fact, there are those who argue that Fatherhood is not necessary for family life.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  It is POSSIBLE to rear children in a single-parent household (male or female).  It is possible to raise strong and healthy children without the presence of a father (or mother).  But that doesn’t make it desirable or advantageous for a child, or for society.

fatherhood

affection beach care caucasian
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

What are we losing as a society when we engage in (or stay on the sidelines for) a war on Fatherhood?  When we make excuses for bad fathers or mothers who choose to denigrate the men who gave life to their children?  What happens when “dad” becomes, not the name of a single influential person in your life, but the name of whichever man is currently living with mom, AND also the man who sees you every other weekend?  What happens when the media consistently portray moms as hardworking and wise, and dads are the comic relief?

We are losing the next generation of fathers; the next generation of men with drive and passion to work for something beyond their own whims and wants.  We are losing the next generation of women, too– as they struggle to be both mothers and fathers, or choose to be neither because it’s too much trouble to do it alone.  We are losing a sense of what it means to be a Father– the honor, the responsibility, the joy and pride, the reward.  Worst of all, we are losing the examples of fathers who through their words and actions, are pointing others to our Heavenly Father.  God is not a baby-daddy; He is not an absentee father or an every-other-weekend Father.  He is not a faceless provider of money for new clothes and college textbooks.  He is not a goofy guy who tells bad jokes and pats you on the head once in a while.  He is not the one who never shows up for your game or your dance recital because he’s too busy playing golf with the guys.

man putting his shoulder around boy while his other hand is inside his pocket
Photo by Kaysha on Pexels.com

This isn’t universally true– and I’m so grateful for the men, young and old, who are staying the course, setting the examples, and standing out like beacons of light.  And I don’t wish to belittle the women who have had to be both mother and father due to death or other circumstances beyond their control.  But we desperately need good fathers.  We need fathers who will fight the good fight; not fathers who are Missing In Action.  We need active, responsible, faithful Dads.  But we need to pray for them.  We need to honor them.  We need to encourage and support them.  More than just one day a year….

The Legacy of a Praying Father

My father was a quiet man.  He loved music, and jokes, and animals, and peaceful summer nights listening to crickets and sipping tea on the front porch.  My father was not a man of lengthy, eloquent prayers.  His prayers were often short, and sometimes punctuated with emotional tears.  But my father prayed.  He led our family in prayer and devotions; he prayed in church on Sunday mornings and Wednesday evenings.  He spent much time, head bowed, talking silently with his Savior.

belief bible book business
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

I spoke of a mother’s prayers last month, and they are important.  But fathers play a different role.  My mother’s prayers always seemed to wrap me in a cozy blanket of affection and hope.  My father prayers were more like an umbrella– spreading out over our family to seek God’s protection and grace.  Even if Dad’s voice wavered in prayer, his vocabulary was bold, filled with a rock-solid faith, and a deep sense of God’s power and wisdom ready to be poured out on our family.

Dadmegreenreunion

But the most lasting impression I have of my father’s prayers is that of Dad’s reverence for God.  I never, EVER, heard my father take the Lord’s name in vain.  (Not even when his favorite baseball team was losing– again!)  I never heard him express doubt of God’s care, His provision, or His wisdom.  He approached the throne of grace with awe and deep gratitude.  He never lost his sense of wonder at God’s creation, or his sense of awareness of and need for God’s mercy.

green grass field during sunset
Photo by David Jakab on Pexels.com

We need men of prayer.  I am so grateful for a husband who prays– regularly, fervently, compassionately, and boldly.  What would happen in our world if more men prayed daily in the quiet of their homes or places of work?  Our society makes fun of men who pray on public platforms, praising themselves as much or more than they praise God.  It denigrates prayer as weakness and hypocrisy, but what if more men of faith led their families in daily prayer?  What if, with trembling voices, more men sought out wisdom and strength to meet the challenges they face, instead of putting on a brave but false face of independence and self-sufficiency?  What if, instead of excusing vulgarity and cursing, more men took the challenge to clean up their language and set better examples.

grace1

 

 

If you know men of faith– take some time this weekend to let them know how much their good example means.  Encourage them to finish the race, to keep going, and to leave the kind of legacy that matters most.  And don’t forget to lift them up in prayer!

Jephthah or Jabez?

There are many great examples of prayer throughout the Bible, but there are two that are often used out of context and applied wrongly.  One is found in the book of the Judges; the other in the Chronicles.

Jephthah was a mighty warrior– the son of a mighty warrior and a prostitute.  He had several half-brothers, but they wanted nothing to do with him.  He was an outcast for much of his life, but when things got tough, the people of the region changed their tune and begged him to be their leader and help deliver them from the oppressive Ammonites.   Before going into battle, Jephthah prayed, and made a tragic vow.  In fact, his vow has become a model of what NOT to do in approaching God.

Judges 11:30-31 New American Standard Bible (NASB)
30 Jephthah made a vow to the Lord and said, “If You will indeed give the sons of Ammon into my hand, 31 then it shall be that whatever comes out of the doors of my house to meet me when I return in peace from the sons of Ammon, it shall be the Lord’s, and I will offer it up as a burnt offering.”

Upon returning from his success in battle, who should come out of the door of his house, but his only daughter, singing and dancing in celebration of her father’s victory!  Having made such a rash vow, Jephthah now has to fulfill it, and sacrifices his only child on the altar.

Many people read this passage of scripture and are shocked– how could God be so cruel?  Why didn’t he stop Jephthah from making such a rash vow?  How could he hold Jephthah to such a vow?  Doesn’t this prove that God is either clueless or deliberately cruel?  Either God knew that the tragedy would happen, and failed to prevent it, or he had no idea  of the outcome.

But I think this is a misreading of events and a misrepresentation of God.  Just before Jephthah makes his vow, the text states that “the Spirit of the Lord came upon Jephthah.  He crossed Gilead and Manasseh, passed through Mizpah of Gilead, and from there he advanced upon the Ammonites.”  People make note of the first part of verse 29, that the Spirit of the Lord came upon Jephthah prior to his making the rash vow.  But we should note that God’s Spirit did not require Jephthah to make ANY vow.   Jephthah’s vow was rash and ill-considered– these are not attributes of God or of His Spirit.  And God’s Spirit came upon Jephthah before he crossed his own native territory– territory he had fled early in life.  In crossing back through lands that now welcomed him after making him feel unwanted and ashamed, Jephthah gets cocky.  His vow is not about saving his nation from harm and oppression, or about bringing God glory.  It is about himself.  He mentions himself five times; his enemies, God, and his sacrifice, each twice; Israel never.  Jephthah had an incredible opportunity, not only to save his nation, but to redeem his reputation and become a leader of might and integrity.  Instead, he is remembered for his rash vow.  I believe that God could have stopped Jephthah from making such a vow, or kept his daughter from coming out of the house that day of her father’s return.  But I don’t believe it was cruelty that prevented him from acting.  I believe God is both omnipotent and good.  Jephthah learned the hard way that his rash self-promotion had disastrous consequences.  His daughter, who was innocent, could have berated her father, or cursed God– instead, she honored them both in a way that reflected her culture and teaching.  We are given a shocking reminder not to play games with our unknown future.  God does not keep us from our own folly, nor from its consequences, when we fail to seek His wisdom above our own pride.

pexels-photo-415380.jpeg

In contrast, we see another prayer in 1 Chronicles:

1 Chronicles 4:9-10 New American Standard Bible (NASB)
Jabez was more honorable than his brothers, and his mother named him Jabez saying, “Because I bore him with pain.” 10 Now Jabez called on the God of Israel, saying, “Oh that You would bless me indeed and enlarge my border, and that Your hand might be with me, and that You would keep me from harm that it may not pain me!” And God granted him what he requested.

Once again, this prayer is sometimes taken out of context and misused to suggest that God is like a genie in a bottle, and that a pain-free life and expanded riches are ours for the asking.  If we pray the prayer of Jabez, and we don’t see an immediate change in our circumstances, we sometimes question God’s goodness and His provision– doesn’t He care about our needs?  Doesn’t he hear our prayer?

Jabez, unlike Jephthah above, is described as honorable.  His prayer is more balanced and conscious of God’s sovereignty.  Jabez mentions himself five times, just like Jephthah; but he mentions God three times in supplication– asking God to be with him, help him, and bless him, rather than vowing what he can do for God if God grants him victory.    Notice also the context of the preceding verse.  His prayer is partly asking God to remove the sting and curse of his name, which meant “pain.”  He is not asking for enormous wealth or power, so much as asking for God’s presence and blessing.  There is a subtle, but important difference here.  Jephthah is playing at making a deal with God– If you grant me a victory, I will make it up to you by offering whatever comes out of my house.  Jabez comes with nothing, and asks God to be his portion and protection.  He makes no bargain with God contingent on God’s answer.  There is nothing in this prayer that assumes God’s riches will be his or that God owes him anything; only the faith that God is able to bless him, and that God, in his goodness can keep him from harm.

pexels-photo-156151.jpeg

Jephthah, or Jabez?  Two examples…two very different outcomes.  May we have the wisdom not to confuse the two, or lose the lessons they teach.

Our Father

Dad.  Daddy.  Pops.  Papi.  Da.  Father.

During my youngest years, I called my father “Daddy.”  Daddy was someone to hold me when I was tired, or frightened, or just in need of a hug.  Daddy had all the answers; he could turn my tears into giggles, my pouts into apologies.  His stern word could melt away rebellion; his smile could fill my heart to bursting.

As I grew older, he became “Dad.”  Dad was wise.  Dad gave good advise– even when I didn’t always take it.  Dad listened and showed interest in what I said.  Dad challenged me to do better, think deeper, try harder, and work smarter.  Dad didn’t pick me up and carry me, but he was there beside me when I needed someone to lean on or lend a hand.  Dad was my coach and advocate.

grace1

As an adult, Dad sometimes became “Pa.”  Pa was someone who had “been there”.  He had experience, and wisdom.  He had patience and compassion.  But his days of coaching and propping me up were fewer; his days of sharing his own faults, his unfulfilled dreams, his regrets–commiserating rather than commanding– grew more and became more precious to me.  He was still my father, but he was also my friend– a fellow traveler on this road; one I knew well and loved dearly.  One I respected and trusted, even though he was not perfect.

I was blessed to have a father who was good and kind; a man of integrity and humor; a man who loved his family more than life, loved his neighbors, his community, music, nature, animals, and good food.  Most of all, he loved God.  Not with fire and brimstone fanaticism, but with humble astonishment that God would send his son to die for him.  He lived in the wonder of that truth– that “whosoever believeth (in him) should not perish, but have eternal life” included him.

I say all this, not just to honor my earthly father, or to thank my heavenly father for that relationship, but to point out how prayer is often a reflection of how we view fatherhood.  Some people have a difficult time praying and trusting God because they have never known an earthly father; or they’ve only known earthly fathers who were distant, unapproachable, or abusive.  If this is the case for you, may I encourage you to ask God to reveal himself in a fresh way, with a name and vision that is personal and distinct from the earthly father you have known.  Some people view God as “Daddy”–someone who fixes everything, holds us close, and keeps us safe.  And he is all those things.  But he is also “Dad” who wants to challenge us and coach us to grow and develop our character.  He is “Abba”, and “Senor”, “Lord,” and “Father” and “Papa”.  He is not “Pa” in the sense I knew my father, in that we are not his peers when we reach adulthood.  He has no faults to share, no regrets.  But he wants to share that precious intimacy that comes with time and familiarity–he wants us to develop trust and love as we get to know him better, however we call him.

superdad

There is one clear difference between God and any of our earthly parents– God is GOD– he is the creator and ruler of galaxies, and of microcosms,  omnipotent and omniscient, omnipresent and eternal, holy and sovereign.

And when I pray, I pray to him– almighty King of Kings– and my Father!

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑