by Elizabeth | Oct 14, 2014 | Learning Story
For years, the Sarah Sisterhood (gospel-centered community for women), has taken time out of our regular study to celebrate a story feast.
Since we are studying Tullian Tchividjian’s book One-Way Love, last week’s focused on theme of law and grace.
I was reminded of this terrible, bizarre experience with law and grace I had on an airplane back in 2004.
I didn’t use to tremble when I walked into an airport for a flight. There was a time when flying was filled with a sense of excitement, even importance. I was special; I was going somewhere.
The trembling probably began during the years I commuted from Pensacola to Seattle in pursuit of a graduate degree. The first course I took started the day before 9-11 happened. Ten days later, I flew back to Pensacola on an almost empty plane.
On one of these excursions, in 2004, I had made it through the long red-eye from Seattle to Atlanta and was now firmly planted in my seat for the short shot back to Pensacola. The flight attendant was doing her thing, making sure seat belts were fastened and electronic devices were shut off (yes, back in those days).
I turned off my device. The thing was, this baby in front of me.
Now I’m a mom of four who never had the courage to travel with mine when they were babies, so I’m not hating on crying babies on the airplane. However, I feel completely justified in not wanting to hear them cry, especially when they’re loud and insistent and they’re in the seat in front of me facing my way.
So I left my headphones in my ears. When the flight attendant told me to remove them, I held up my device to show it was turned off and the headphones weren’t plugged in…
Well, that’s when it got bizarre. In a stern voice, anger barely controlled, she lectured me about how I needed to comply with the rules of the plane. Before I could apologize (I had now taken the plugs out), she quickly turned away. Moments later, she reappeared with what I call a “yellow card” and explained that I was being put on a some-kinda-list because blah-blah-blah.
I still can’t remember what she or the card said exactly, because frankly my mind was numbed by fears and my eyes blurred with tears at this point. After delivering the punishment, she turned away again, and the passengers around me looked at me, some with sympathetic looks, like, “What was that all about?” and others with accusing looks, like, “You must be a dangerous person.”
So, thankfully, I guess, that wasn’t the end of the story.
Just after the captain announced our immanent descent into Pensacola, the flight attendant returned. She offered me a huge smile, and motioned for me to get up and follow her. I wondered for a moment if it was a trick, since the captain had just told us to fasten our seat belts, but I figured I’d better obey her, so I followed her down the aisle, intensely aware of being watched, my cheeks burning with shame.
We arrived at the attendant’s station, and she showed me a white clear view notebook, opened to a form filled with writing. Again, what I remember was that all the pages had sheet protectors, not what the words she pointed to actually said.
She spoke in the voice you use to tell a pre-schooler, “Now, you messed up, but this time, I’m going to let you off the hook.” And she proceeded to tell me basically that and to warn me never to disobey again and she would tear up this sheet that I think informed other people that I was an aviation threat.
I nodded and promised and conveyed that I understood what a bad passenger I’d been. She took the page out of the sheet protector and tore it up. Then — and this is still the part that is the most bizarre to me — she gave me a big hug and told me I could return to my seat.
I fought the law and the law won. But my judge, for reasons I cannot discern, decided to show me mercy. I guess. But it didn’t feel like mercy. It felt like at any moment, she could change her mind and put me on another list.
What I realized as I shared this story with my group is that God’s law, mercy, and grace is perfect. It is not arbitrary, based on how he feels that day — or moment. His law and his grace is rooted in his own eternal, holy, consistently loving character. Yes, it it is rather bizarre that a holy God would send a holy Son to die for my sins (including my defiant, self-justifying attitude on that plane). And yet it makes sense because of who God is — a God who loves and pursues us in our worst and redeemed us because of that love.
Now it’s your turn — think of a story about law, grace, or airplanes (these are usually good ones!) and share it — in the comments — and/or with friends.
Here are a few questions to get you thinking:
1. Tell of a time when someone showed you mercy and grace — surprised you with a loving response you knew you did not deserve.
2. Tell of an “encounter with the law” — a person who demanded only the best or held the law over you. How did you respond to the demands? What did this experience teach you about law and grace?
by Elizabeth | Sep 29, 2014 | Learning Story
Have you ever been lost and really needed a sign? Here’s one of my favorite “lost” stories.
I like my GPS friend, except when I don’t. Yesterday was one of the “don’t” days. All I wanted to do was find the Florida Turnpike so I could get the heck out of Central Florida via I – 75…
Homeward bound, I was, and I still had time to make our Sunday evening traditional meal of Hamburgers and French Fries (Yes, that is capitalized – good beef, grilled burgers, and homemade fries, family tradition from my mother’s side that stayed steady even in uncertain times….). Every Sunday night, and it tastes so much better when you’re coming off road food (which for me, on a retreat or conference weekend, often means subsisting mostly on Think Thin bars and coffee for about 72 hours because I’m too rushed for the real meals.)
Even if I hadn’t been on a deadline to make dinner, I would have been in a hurry. I am, shall we say, an “efficient traveler.” Ask anyone who has ever had the dubious joy of being a passenger in a vehicle I was commandeering on a road trip. Don’t drink much, because there won’t be many potty breaks. I am single-minded and focused in my goal of making it there. We will stop for lunch at the regular time but we will eat it in the car, so bring a towel to catch all the drippings from that greasy fast food!
All that to say, yesterday, my GPS friend failed me. But knowing she was going to do so, I had even asked directions from the bell”boy” at the hotel – “How do I get to the Florida Turnpike from here?” I should have noticed the telltale frown of uncertainty on his baby face (I had, after all, been teaching on “uncertainty” this weekend:-), but I was in a hurry and I wasn’t going to ask someone else.
So I turned back to my trusty friend who had gotten me out of many a jam in the past – Ms Gips, as I call her. No matter how much I argued with her, she insisted on taking me on the highway – I wanted the byway!
Finally, after wasting an hour or so driving around Orlando, I gave in and went her way, the high way, but not without a rant. (Yes, my children and husband are thanking God now that they weren’t along for this ride!) And then.
And then, I said to myself, or should I say the Holy Spirit said to me, “It’s been such a beautiful weekend – lovely women representing not all, but many, of the tribes, tongues, nations, and people groups of this cosmos, along with a handful of very gracious men; deep engagement with the Word and lovely new friendships formed…
ARE YOU GOING TO LET LOSING YOUR WAY LET YOU LOSE YOUR WAY?” Truly. Will I let all the grace drain out of this glorious weekend?
So I began to thank God, aloud, for every wonderful moment of the weekend, and I tell you, there were many.
Then I saw it. I had seen the practice circle the skywriter had scrawled in the sky. But then I noticed a word…I said to myself, “Does that say…?”
But I knew. I didn’t need to ask. I knew exactly what it said, even before I could read all the words…”Jesus l…” I didn’t need to wait for the skywriter to finish his message in the sky. I had spoken the words with conviction less than 24 hours before: “Jesus loves you.” (Actually, the sky eventually said, “Jesus loves u.”
Being the efficient road warrior that I am, I waited for one of the many stoplights that had interrupted my flow so that I could take a photo. But now I kept getting green lights. Finally, I did a wasteful thing. I pulled to the side of the road and took this picture…
Thanks be to the God who speaks to me in the sky when I lose my way on the road!
Do you have any lost stories? Sign stories? “Jesus loves you” stories? Please share them in the comments!
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by Elizabeth | Sep 18, 2014 | Learning Story
“…choose this day whom you will serve…as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” Joshua 24:14-15
“For even the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Mark 10:45
“What people revere, they resemble, either for ruin or for restoration.” G.K. Beale
On September 8, 93-year-old Truett Cathy, founder and servant leader of the Chick-fil-A restaurant chain, passed away. As I read about Mr. Cathy’s life, I thought how he is a man who resembled what he revered — Jesus Christ, who came not to be served but to serve.
By word and deed, Mr. Cathy lived what he believed:
- teaching that Christian principles made the best business ethics.
- closing his restaurants on Sundays so that his employees could rest.
- leading his foundation in donating over 68 million dollars for leadership development, foster care, and college scholarships.
My favorite story of Mr. Cathy’s servant heart comes from an interaction with my son, who is now employed by Chick-fil-A in their corporate office. (And yes, I’m a mom, so of course my favorite involves my son:-)!
He was invited to visit by a colleague he had met while working on an initiative to bring CFA to his college campus (College kids need their Chick-fil-A biscuits to get them going every morning:-)!
Mr. Cathy happened to be in his office, the place he fondly called the “Tree House,” because it sits high among the trees and has floor to ceiling glass windows.
I never got to meet Mr. Cathy personally, but I enjoyed some great milkshakes sitting next to his statue!
My son’s colleague introduced them, and said, “Kirby has applied for a job here.”
Mr. Cathy, much to my son’s surprise, warmly responded, “That’s wonderful! I look forward to working for you!”
Kirby did a double-take for two reasons — first — he knew the Chairman and CEO of the corporation would not be involved in his hiring…
And second, what an oddly wonderful thing to say — “working for you” — not “with you,” but “for.” Truett Cathy’s humility and devotion to service was reflected even in his language.
I don’t want to glorify Mr. Cathy, and I doubt he would want me to either. But stories like his encourage me in my faith, and we all need to hear such stories.
By all accounts, he was a man who resembled what he revered. He worshipped Christ, the Son of Man who came not to be served, but to serve. He chose each day whom he would serve, and the gospel transformed him. What he believed permeated his life, in thought, word, and deed. The gospel (not to mention those yummy sandwiches:-) perfumed the air with a fragrant aroma that compels me and others to live a life of worship that spills over into service.
by Elizabeth | Sep 16, 2014 | Learning Story
1. Eugene Peterson
Stories are verbal acts of hospitality.
— Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places: A Conversation in Spiritual Theology
2. Flannery O’Connor
There is something in us, as storytellers and as listeners to stories, that demands the redemptive act, that demands that what falls at least be offered the chance to be restored. The reader of today looks for this motion, and rightly so, but what he has forgotten is the cost of it. His sense of evil is diluted or lacking altogether, and so he has forgotten the price of restoration. When he reads a novel, he wants either his sense tormented or his spirits raised. He wants to be transported, instantly, either to mock damnation or a mock innocence. — Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose
3. Dan Allender
You are a story. You are not merely the possessor and teller of a number of stories; you are a well-written, intentional story that is authored by the greatest Writer of all time, and even before time and after time. — To Be Told
4. Scotty Smith & Steven Curtis Chapman
God is telling an authentic, non-spin story of selfish, broken people, who are in the process of being made new by Jesus. That’s why Jesus has the lead role in God’s Story. But He’s not the only character. He’s making us characters too. We are carriers of God’s Story – targets for hope who’ll serve as agents of hope, and candidates of mercy who’ll live as conduits of mercy. Jesus is bringing restoration to broken individuals as a means of bringing healing to other individuals, families, communities, and ultimately, to the whole universe. — Restoring Broken Things
5. Christopher J.H. Wright
. . . the whole Bible renders to us the story of God’s mission through God’s people in their engagement with God’s world for the sake of God’s whole creation. — The Mission of God
6. Rachel Remen
Real stories take time. We stopped telling stories when we started to lose that sort of time, pausing time, reflecting time, wondering time. — Kitchen Table Wisdom
7. Madeleine L’Engle
We turn to stories and pictures and music because they show us who and what and why we are. — Walking on Water
And a free bonus:
“Everyone will share the story of your wonderful goodness.” Psalm 145:7 NLT
by Elizabeth | Sep 8, 2014 | Learning Story
“He who began a good work in you…
will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” Philippians 1:6
This is a reprinted story with an update — because the gospel never changes…
When I was a younger mom of younger kids, I used to think if I got them to 18, I was done.
Pause for huge guffaws of laughter from other parents who always knew differently. Even before my oldest son turned 18, it had become apparent to me that the knotted tangle of love, hope, admiration, sometimes-fury, and occasional pain that describes my mother’s heart will be with me for life.
Today, my eldest son turns 21. By now no doubt lingers about how long I will be a Mom. Even though yesterday as he was packing to return to college he casually mentioned, “This may be my last summer living at home.” (Wait, how did that happen? He’s only a rising junior — yes, senior by hours, but I thought he was going to prolong it for at least another football season?)
Clearly, I could ramble along in my ambivalence for too many paragraphs, but let me reach the point.
The verse that began this post was my son’s verse. It became his verse when I was going on two weeks overdue in a hot Atlanta August, turgidly, miserably, pregnant, thinking I would lose my mind if one more person called me to see “if the baby had come yet.” At that time, a Steve Green song was popular in Christian circles: “He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it…” I began to listen to it over and over, and took it quite literally. I “psalmed” it, that is, I screamed out to God, “Okay, Lord, you began this GOOD WORK in me, and you said you would be faithful to complete it!” Any time now would be fine with me.
It was a few more days, fully two weeks late before the doctors agreed to do a pitocin induction. And then another 33 hours. But my son doesn’t want me to get into my travails in bringing him into the world. He’s heard it all.
That verse has served us BOTH well over the years. Since he is the firstborn son, I am pretty sure my chief sinner status has chiefly landed on him in my parenting. How many times over the years have I needed to recall, “He who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it until the day of Christ Jesus?” I used to think it was just about him — “Yes, God will grow my son up…” Then I realized the verse was for ME. Or perhaps both of us. Or, more likely, for all of us.
Addendum: That son is now 25. I can now see that the good work God began was not simply his conception, and its completion was not his long-awaited appearance in flesh:-)!
God had great works for my son’s good and His glory to do. He is a young man complete in Christ, at peace in the knowledge of who he is. He is a young man restless and determined, being constantly refined and matured by the sanctifying work of the Spirit.
We have four children now, aged 25-19. Now I can see how God has faithfully redeemed me, liberating me by his grace to offer good gifts to our children:
After 25 years of motherhood,
- I am slightly more likely to clean up the kitchen alone without killing the atmosphere with malodorous martyrdom.
- I now hold the reins of control over my children’s lives a little more loosely (that’s a little easier when you don’t have much choice:-).
- And I am entirely free from flying into a rage over lost cleats 🙂 (true, only b/c we don’t fight that battle anymore:-) – but I’m hopeful for not doing that with grandchildren!)
Parenting is a long journey — a lifelong one as it turns out. I’d love to hear from you. In what ways does Philippians 1:6 encourage you? What stories do you have of the maturing work God has done in you or your children along the way?
