Posts Tagged ‘love’
Emotional “Purity”
Posted in biblical womanhood, Uncategorized, tagged attraction, Before you meet Prince Charming, crush, do not arouse or awaken love, emotional purity, guard your heart, guilt, leading men on, love, modesty, purity on June 26, 2016| Leave a Comment »
Because I Met David
Posted in biblical womanhood, life, tagged adult, courtship, dating, friendship, hope, humility, love, marriage, maturity, patience, responsibility, singleness, sober on November 16, 2014| Leave a Comment »
There once was a handsome young man named David. What happened to me through knowing him probably had something to do with growing up – with turning 20 and getting my own car and being exposed more to the general world than this homeschooler was used to. He walked into my life when I was 19 years old and I immediately went into such a daze that I didn’t even remember his name, but I remembered his smile. We found ourselves shortly thereafter attending the same Bible study. I was so thrilled to see him there, and that he gave my elbow a little pinch when he recognized me, that I felt sick the rest of the night… C’est la vie.
Because I met David, I realized I wasn’t 16 anymore. And not-16-year-old women shouldn’t be looking for the qualities of a 16-year-old boy in a man they’re thinking of dating, or marrying. I began to remake my list, but I didn’t even know what being a grown-up meant. What was it to be an adult? How was it different being an adult, marriage-ready man from an adult, marriage-ready woman?
Responsibility, a sober view of the world, selflessness – these are some of the traits I came to realize were important. Discerning them wasn’t as simple as checking off a list like: no, he doesn’t drink; yes, he has a job; yes, he says he’s a Christian. A drink here or there doesn’t prevent realizing that we get one chance at this life and that everything we do has consequences. (At the time, I was met with a lot of young men who didn’t take the consequences of alcohol very seriously. But they were breaking into my mind the possibilities.) In David’s case, irresponsible men can have jobs. They use them to fund and further irresponsible lives. And though true Christianity has to do with imitating Christ, who made Himself nothing, saying we belong to the Church is only a tiny part of participation in that kind of life. People can lie. People can be deceived.
Because I met David, I learned to be patient in developing relationships. I wanted more, more, more of people whose company I enjoyed. I wanted to rush, rush, rush to see where it was leading with this man. But it had to be OK some weeks at Bible study to just see him and ask how he was, waiting for the deeper conversation here and there. That way I was learning more about him than just my urgent questions. When you’re friends with someone, you get all of them, not just the parts whose relevance you can foresee.
Because I met David, I had my first opportunity to really make the choice between going with my feelings and going with my principles. I had been in a low place spiritually, but this choice began to wake me up.
Because I met David, I discovered how sick hope could make me. I hoped the charming bright-eyed conversationalist would line up with my principles – if not right away, then later (*soon* later, but I didn’t know about assuming “soon” back then).
Because I met David, I began to face some facts about marriage, among others: that it would be two broken people working together, helping each other. I was still inspired by the idea of matrimony, but I started to realize that I wouldn’t marry a perfect man, that I didn’t deserve one either, and that being good myself didn’t guarantee that the man I married would always have been good.
Because I met David, I realized that the call God makes on Christians is not, “go be friends with potential husbands and men with no risk to your own heart, but be sure to steer clear of anyone not interested or unworthy” – no, God says, “love your neighbor” and especially to love those in the Church. So even though David chose not to pursue me seriously, and even though I was disappointed, and even though I was still attracted to him – I couldn’t just run away. I had to keep being his friend, keep desiring good for him, while also surrendering my plans for him.
Because I met David, I still kind of believe that I have beautiful eyes and a great smile (particularly when inspired by a man’s attention). I took a break for a while from being on the watch for a potential husband. I realized that even playing it safe with relationships can hurt. I stopped believing in fairy tales and started believing in love.
To God be all glory,
Lisa of Longbourn
Place
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged affirmation, Anne of Green Gables, baking, beauty, bread, conceit, contentment, Fort Collins, identity, loneliness, love, need, purpose, restlessness, Scotland, simple little pleasures, travel, wanderlust, worth on November 1, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Tonight I’m thinking about how I’m not sure what my life is accomplishing. But on the bright side, I just made bread without a recipe, and it seems to be working. I just kind of scooped and sprinkled and dumped, with yeast and oats and whole wheat flour and a handful of bread flour and honey, chia and flax and butter and milk (no yogurt since the stuff I had didn’t smell quite so great). It was a fun experiment. Recently I heard someone saying they don’t like baking because you have to be too precise. I tend to disagree.
How ought one to communicate that they’re desperate for affirmation – as in, one cannot, on one’s own, perceive how God is making good use of them?
And, having begun asking such questions, how does one communicate need for time, need for physical affection, need to be given things/provided for?
At what point does hunger classify as a need? Or just a desire? “I’d like a snack” vs. “this is getting unhealthy” vs. “if I don’t get food soon, I’ll probably die”? Because I can tell I’m hungry for those things that communicate love. I feel the lack, see how I could be a stronger person if I had them. But if I’m not in dire need, is it right to be so bold as to ask for other people to give me attention? Is anyone obligated to give attention to my needs? Is there any point where it would be right to be “demanding”?
I’ve also been wondering, how do people keep going, who don’t know God? How do they survive the loneliness? Is it possible to be intentionally more numb to it, by being less self-aware and more focused on, say, entertainment?
Or would it solve a lot of these problems if I was more others-aware? But then, can you really give, give, give when you feel starved?
I’ve been focusing on random things. Is it worthwhile to know things like improvising bread without a recipe? The history of medieval Spain? The way that purple and blue and orange go together? How to teach cube roots? The work of the Holy Spirit during the pre-Jesus days? Maybe these things go together. Maybe they’re good in themselves. Maybe someday they’ll combine to usefulness for a different stage of my life.
I read another quote from Anne of Green Gables today, but I can’t get myself to agree with it: “I believe that the nicest and sweetest of days are not those which anything very splendid or wonderful or exciting happens, but just those that bring simple little pleasures, following one another softly, like pearls slipping off a string.”
While my bread was rising, and earlier in the day, I searched Pinterest making fanciful plans to visit Scotland – or less fanciful ones to do an afternoon trip to Ft. Collins. I am feeling restless. I want to be beautiful and in beauty and seeing beauty. I want to go places I’ve never been, and really soak them in – not just drive through. I want to see old things, but they might make me cry if they’re abandoned, and so many old things are. Who abandons *castles*, after all? If you ever don’t want your castle, give it to me; I’ll see that it’s inhabited!
What is my place?
To God be all glory,
Lisa of Longbourn
To
Asking
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged asking, church, correspondence, friends, God, help, humble, humility, love, need on February 10, 2014| Leave a Comment »
Several of my friends are learning about asking for help. And when such dear friends are learning something, so am I. They pose challenging questions, and as I meditate on my experience, my personality, I see where I also need to grow. I’m on the watch, as are they, for opportunities to humble myself and ask for what I need.
I practice gratitude, like a tight fist on the last rope holding me from slipping from trust. I choose to see the ways that God provides and blesses. I struggle to understand how grace is abundant and need still stands, inviting God, inviting His people, to invest. I have been gifted many friends, time to hold children, nearness of God as I read Scripture, job to earn money, good food, moments to pray with God’s Church.
But I am thirsty, needy. I feel this restlessness for days. When I take time finally to examine, I find that being with people is not enough. That though giving is a blessing, sometimes receiving is all I can do; sometimes I am on my knees too weak to even hold myself up. I need attention. I need a hug, given to me. I need some other to be strong. And though God is the supplier of all, and though even without nourishment I would still have life eternal because of Jesus, there are some things that I need in this life that are not God. I need food and water and air. I need people to speak truth specifically relevant to the problems I face and the doubts that assail. I need to be heard. I need to not just be known, like the perfect God knows His children, but discovered, like a daughter, like a friend. Discovered and not rejected. Vulnerable and embraced and even delighted in.
I ask my brother, confidante, “How do you ask for [attention]? And then someone says ‘yes’ and what – stares at you awkwardly?” So how do I confess my need? What exactly do I expect from whomever I ask? And when it is my turn, how do I meet needs that are this profound, this tender?
To God be all glory,
Lisa of Longbourn
Really Love
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged doubt, earning love, faith, friendship, God's love, goodness, gratitude, joy, kindness, love, pity on July 6, 2013| Leave a Comment »
I have never noticed it in myself before, but a couple of weeks ago I didn’t believe people really loved me. I believed they were being kind to me, but out of obligation more than out of interest in me. So I avoided people; I didn’t pursue spending time with them unless directly asked. (The times I did spend with them I enjoyed immensely.) And I made sure that I was very useful, hoping that even if I wasn’t fun to be around, I would be helping people out to reward them for spending time with me.
At the end of that week, I realized I had been self-centered, not thinking nearly enough about how I could be God’s vessel towards my friends. I was not being respectful of them, disbelieving them when they said they would “love to have me” or that I was “welcome to join them”. And on top of it all, I was believing lies. They do love me, and I’m quite grateful.
Being loved when you don’t deserve to be is strange. Even with God I am so often tempted to believe in His pity and mercy and goodness but not in His love. He does kind things for me because He is obligated by His goodness. He does them to astound my gratitude. Believing those half-truths, I obediently subject myself to Him. I reassure myself that what God does is good. I discipline myself to thank Him (which I don’t think is entirely wrong, but I’ll tell you what I love better: feeling thankful!).
Yet YHWH really loves me. One of those friends I was doubting a few weeks ago was sharing how God is teaching her about prayer, and how much He wants intimacy with us. Marriage as a picture of Christ and His Church (us!) should remind us over and over that our lives were created for love and union and a delight in Jesus. Years back I did a women’s retreat where we spent large amounts of time by ourselves, praying or resting or listening to music. I remember believing then that Jesus loved me. A song came on about Jesus’ wedding feast, about Him dancing with His bride, and I was so happy for His joy – a joy I could only believe in if He was getting something out of loving us – if He desired us.
Teshuva (use link to “play” at top of webpage), an awesome band from the Denver area, writes:
This is how I
Say I love you and
This is how I
Prove it to you
By my wounds you are
Healed, you’re healed my child
There’s only so much words can say (Only so much words can say)
This can’t be said another way (This is the only way)
He has proven love, not just kindness or pity. For the joy set before Him, Jesus endured the cross.
More than trust and gratitude, my response to really believing in God’s love is love. Loving and being loved brings joy. This week I’ve been so full of both, and for that I’m feeling grateful.
I was talking to a friend about distrusting our emotions, not letting them be any part of leading our decisions. He applied that to his walk with God, needing always a “legitimate” reason to do something, being completely skeptical of anything he felt or wanted. I think that, at least now, with his friends he does some things because they are good things and he enjoys doing them. My dear friend just got married in June. I sure hope that when she kisses her husband it’s because she wants to, not because she thinks it is the wife thing to do! When I read “Love the Lord your God with all your heart…” this is something I think of. He made our hearts, gave us emotions, and He wants them to be towards Him just as much as our minds, and our souls, and our actions and words. The greatest commandment, the privilege of our lives as Christians, is to really love God.
To God be all glory,
Lisa of Longbourn
Aches
Posted in Uncategorized, tagged babies, desires, love, physical, waiting on April 1, 2013| Leave a Comment »
Tonight my arms ache. It’s faint tonight. Some days the feeling is stronger. On other days I couldn’t detect the longing at all. But for this moment, I really want to hold a baby. I want to. Pour. Out. Love. To wrap myself around and into the future and the past of a little one, their pain and their happiness and their needs and their giftedness.
The more I love and want to love, the more I want to hug someone tight. And the more I don’t get to, the more all this physical reality demands to be expressed. If my body can’t push out, against another human being to love them, then it will push from within, and it’s so weird! My emotions will so react to being a physical being restrained that sometimes I’ll do something physical just to be real. I’ll throw something, playfully shove a friend who’s teasing me, or on a very good day – find a friend (or friend’s child) to hold tight for just a few moments.
I don’t want to forget. I want these experiences to form me. I want to prepare to express love well. I pray for gentleness to balance out all this feisty energy right now. I want the desires of my heart to cast me into the arms of my good God. I wait on Him.
To God be all glory,
Lisa of Longbourn
Unfruitful Works of Darkness
Posted in church, theology, Uncategorized, tagged asceticism, Bible, chanting, Christianity, church, church fathers, community, cults, demons, devil, discernment, divinity, enemies of God, false gospel, false teaching, fruit, Glenn Beck, glory, gnosticism, good works, gospel, heresy, Holy Spirit, honor, humanism, incense, individualism, indwelling Holy Spirit, inner divinity, light, light and darkness, love, meditation, monasticism, mysticism, New Testament, paganism, personal experience, profane, protestant reformation, religion, Revelation, sacrifice, Scripture, seeker sensitive, signs, sin, sola scriptura, Sophia, spiritual warfare, spirituality, superstition, The Shack, theology, tolerance, truth, wisdom, wonders, works, worldliness, worldview, worship on August 10, 2010| Leave a Comment »
“Have nothing to do with the unfruitful works of darkness.”
I’m a discernment person. Heresies are a big deal to me. I tend to notice when teachers or authors or pastors are preaching a different gospel. But there are other issues, too. Focusing on tolerance and friendliness with the world – the “seeker-sensitive” movement, for example – is dangerous. Christians are a light set on a hill, not light camouflaged to look like darkness. Or another popular… what should I call it? Not a heresy in the traditional sense, but a dangerous and unchristian worldview or spiritual practice? Anyway, another one is the borderline gnosticism. This encompasses mysticism and individualism, focusing on poetic ideas of light versus darkness, denial (or even mistreatment) of the physical, and meditation. I see connections between seeker-sensitivity and the postmodern mysticism. Primary in these connections are the exaltation of human effort and experience. They are ancient perversions of the Christian life, not new, but addressed in the New Testament.
Lately it has become popular to cite “church fathers” in theological debates. This even if the quote or position contradicts the New Testament. Though I’m not persuaded of the “sola scriptura” of the Reformation, it did rescue us from centuries of heretical tradition enforced as the authority of the fathers. (Jesus rebuked the same sin in the Pharisees.) Many of those historical theologians flirted with or embraced the para-Christian spirituality mentioned above, emphasizing either their personal wisdom or their own mystical experiences as sources of truth superior to the revelation of Scripture. They practiced this outside of the protective peer-regulation of a Spirit-led Church. Somehow the doctrine of the indwelling Holy Spirit got exchanged for a belief in inner divinity belonging to an individual. All of which was much more compatible with the pagan religions encountered as the ancient “Christianity” spread.
And isn’t that something to be concerned about? Rather than being excited that the enemies of God, the spiritually dead men of planet earth, have portions of truth preserved in their religions, shouldn’t we be devastated at the subtlety of the deceits of the Evil One that has kept men captive to their sin? (“What fellowship has light with darkness?”) Instead of finding commonality in spiritual practices of meditation and monasticism and sacrificing to appease the gods – shouldn’t we question those practices? If the pagans do those things, and if those things are not prescribed by our Lord in the early letters to the churches affirmed by the apostles, why not rather fear a resurgence of paganism within our faith – that the spiritual forces of wickedness have been also distracting us and leading us astray?
In our modern times we tend to disdain the primitive superstitions of pre-Christian peoples. We think they should have been able to see through the cheap tricks of the medicine men, to rise up against the oppressive shaman and assert reason, the intelligence and ability of individuals. But a Christian worldview suggests a different interpretation. It teaches that the devil and demons are real, powerful, able to produce counterfeit signs and wonders to deceive men. Demon possession is real. And maybe those pitiable people, observing that reality, live with rituals and talismans approved by their devils – for a time – as a tax on the slaves of the Devil before they are consumed.
For us who have known only the relatively Christian Western world, it is difficult to remember the spiritual battle that is engaged even here. We are not trained to recognize the spiritual activities of our enemy. This may be because we have adopted it, or excused and tolerated it… False teaching, we believe, has been perpetrated by confused but well-meaning people. Cultists are mostly nice people whose theology is just a little different from ours. We wouldn’t want our children converting, but no big deal if our neighbors and coworkers believe in Jesus and good works for their salvation, God and their own divinity. Many who identify themselves as evangelical Christians see no cause for concern when their church services begin to incorporate incense, or a ladies’ conference suggests repetitive chanting of a spiritual word or phrase as a means of getting closer to God. Millions of us read and identify with a book that includes a manifestation of Sophia, the Gnostic “goddess” as the incarnation of wisdom. These ideas and practices are more attractive to the unsaved world, after all (and to many inside the church). And why shouldn’t they be; they’re familiar whispers, that we are like God, that we come to God on our own terms.
The word profanity is known as a synonym for cussing. But who knows the word profane? Who believes that there is a way God wants to be worshiped, a way He has set for people to come to Him – and any other way is so offensive to Him as to bring His righteous wrath? What is fallen man to tell God why He should accept him? Who is the liar and deceived to believe he has a hold of truth and wisdom apart from the deliverance and revelation of God? How dare we think our filthy rags – our own righteousnesses – are acceptable sacrifices to pay for our trespasses against the ways of God?
But it is hard to reject these things, hard to point at those profanities and warn that they are part of the wide path to hell. I don’t want to believe that my church leader is a false teacher. I like to believe that my friends are going to heaven. But how does that honor God? Is my allegiance to Him or to men? And how is that compassionate, to ignore the condition of my friends? Making excuses is easy. If a man says he believes in Jesus, is it such a big deal if he tolerates sin, if he keeps company with the world? Also far too simple is reassuring myself that even though a person has not trusted in Jesus, he still seems to be a good influence, telling people to pray and read their Bibles and love their families and be wary of governments and religions out to destroy us.
Yet more and more I believe that those excuses and those subversive people are the biggest threats. By them people are led from the power and truth of God, or worse – away from the gospel of the grace of God. People are soothed into ignoring their spiritual neediness. Those people, those false prophets, are the enemies of God. And if they are enemies of God, they are enemies of His people. They are not in your fellowship to encourage you or point you to God. Though they may feign friendship, it is for diabolical purposes, and they can turn on you at any moment.
So what can we do? Monasticism and individualism belong to the false religions. We cannot run away from these dangerous people. Tolerance and acceptance also correspond to the faith that exalts man over God. So we cannot be silent or friendly. Truth and God’s glory invite us to discern the lies and cast them down. Holiness insists that we take our cues from God, supported by those men and women who exhibit the fruits of being His. Love demands that we warn people of destruction. Faith in God teaches us to hope for revival and redemption.
To God be all glory,
Lisa of Longbourn