Frustrations of Life

Have you ever tried to log in unsuccessfully after repeated and frustrating attempts only to realize that the "e" was before the "n"? Or that you plugged in your OTHER password instead of the one you currently use the most?

Life is a continuing series of moments like this. It isn't that we have erred but what we do WHEN we err. Because eventually, be it great or small, we ALL err. We all make mistakes. We all screw up. We all fall short and we are ALL sinners. Point blank.

I remember hearing someone talking about how shocked they had been to see a particularly sinful person they knew from their town "actually have the gall to come in and to be sitting in a pew in one of God's houses of worship".

The level of downright moral outrage in her tone of voice let me know that this woman believed that the man in question would have had to be elevated by the angels of God himself in order to reach just to the level of scum in her mind. "How dare he come into this holy place with his filth! Everyone knows what kind of person he is!"

Do they, now?

Because she stalked off to share her outrage with anyone willing to be bitten by the viper of her cruelty, I didn't get a chance to find out, as Paul Harvey says, what was "The Rest of the Story".

I would have also like to ask her a few questions about her own personal relationship to the Savior but considered it imprudent, being a sinner myself.

But, what I didn't get the chance to ask, and really wish now that I had done so, was: how did this other person look at HER when he noticed her warming the family pew at that house of God? Maybe his jaw hit the floor at the same time hers did... was he as shocked to see her there as she was to see him?

I, for one, simply cannot imagine God, the Father, saying "Gee, what a surprise to see YOU here! Are you sure you belong?" to any one of His precious children. I think on those days His tears are ones of joy, for at least in that one moment, that prodigal child has returned home. And with the love and support of the rest of the family of God, they may decide to stay!

Who gets to be the arbiter of which ones of us are 'worthy' to come into church to hope and pray for grace? That's not a job I'd like to have at all. I know that in my current state that I cannot possibly be counted on to act in the capacity or love that God has. I am simply too imperfect.

And just like the woman who wondered 'how he had the nerve to show up here', I have all too often wondered how the people around me manage to get by in this life with all of their 'oh so visible' problems. I know they can see most of mine. And I feel the weight of them on a daily basis. I hate that I do judge others. And I work on it and repent of it when the thoughts cross my mind.

Do I care that others question my worthiness to kneel before the very Throne of Grace and beg to be forgiven, cleansed and made whole through the Blood of the Lamb?

Not much.

My microscope can so accurately see the failings and foibles of another. Yet, while in reverse aim toward my own issues, that same microscope requires greater magnification and scope than the Hubble Space Telescope could provide for a view into my own soul. It is a horrible thought and a worse feeling.

Realizing this brings me no sense of comfort. Rather, it brings a deep sense of shame that I have been imperfect, yet I have expected perfection from those who simply cannot provide nor sustain it. I think that qualifies as idol worship on my part. Sort of a 'put them up on a pedestal and dare them to slip off' test of worthiness in my eyes. Totally not fair.

Sometimes, we are all so enmeshed in the day to day that we are required to slog through, that we miss the moment to moment opportunities to celebrate the wonderful things that God has done in our lives for us and for those who's names we don't know.

I'm glad the disreputable attend church. Without them, I am quite sure our houses of worship would lie dormant, because even the preachers and teachers have not achieved Godhood. And that includes us all.

From listener to nursery child to door greeter, we are all important and we all have issues and frustrations that we are compelled by circumstance to wade through in order to return home, and above all else, we are sinners trying to reconcile our self, through Christ, to God.

I just think we need to deal with our own issues fully before we deal with those ever present "warts and moles" we see so readily on others.

One of my favorite hymns is "Truth Reflects Upon Our Senses" and it really speaks volumes in a few short verses.

And, for the record, the mote in the song is a speck of dust and the beam in the song is a splinter of wood.

Ouch! Please don't sign me up for either one, thank you.

The message is clear, what we perceive as a problem in someone else is probably not nearly as big a deal as our own mess that we are trying to NOT clean up.

To quote Sheri Dew about charity, "Charity . . . isn't about bringing a casserole, this is about the pure love of Christ." Again, ouch. There is seldom anything pure about our love. We have motives and agendas both hidden and seen. We have ideas of how it should be and how we can make it all happen.

Unless we apply the grace and mercy of the Atonement of Jesus Christ to ourselves AND to everyone else, we lose out on everything. We can't just expect to have mercy for ourselves and justice for everyone else. It doesn't work that way!

When we believe it does, we refuse to open the door to The One who stands and knocks and awaits admission into our tiny, Grinch-like hearts. Without the Light of Christ and His all encompassing love and mercy in our behalf, we can't even begin to remove the mote we see in the eyes of another. Without Jesus Christ, there is no hope of grace. In other words, we get to keep that beam in our eye and just hope for the best alone.

No thanks.

I think I'll ask help from the Master Carpenter. He will know how to get rid of the splinter for me. He can bind up my wounds and comfort me as well. And, then in a miracle beyond anything that we can ever totally understand, He can heal me. He already took upon himself my cowardly and selfish behavior and paid for it all.

TRUTH REFLECTS UPON OUR SENSES

1.
Truth reflects upon our senses;
Gospel light reveals to some.
If there still should be offenses,
Woe to them by whom they come!
Judge not, that ye be not judged,
Was the counsel Jesus gave;
Measure given, large or grudged;
Just the same you must receive.

CHORUS:
Blessed Savior, thou wilt guide us,
Till we reach that blissful shore
Where the angels wait to join us
In thy praise forevermore.

2.
Jesus said, "Be meek and lowly",
For 'tis high to be a judge;
If I would be pure and holy,
I must love without a grudge.
It requires a constant labor
All his precepts to obey.
If I truly love my neighbor,
I am in the narrow way.

3.
Once I said unto another,
"In thine eye there is a mote;
If thou art a friend, a brother,
Hold, and let me pull it out
But I could not see it fairly
For my sight was very dim
When I came to search more clearly
In mine eye, there was a beam.

4.
If I love my brother dearer,
And his mote I would erase,
Then the light should shine the clearer,
For the eye's a tender place.
Others I have oft reproved
For an object like a mote,
Now I wish this beam removed,
Oh, that tears would wash it out!

5.
Charity and love are healing;
These will give the clearest sight.
When I saw my brother's failing,
I was not exactly right.
Now, I'll take no further trouble
Jesus' love is all my theme;
Little motes are but a bubble
When I think upon the beam.

The words to this hymn were written by a woman named Eliza R. Snow back in the late 1800's with the chorus for the verses being penned by M.E. Abbey.

If people in those times we consider 'more simple' had trouble with being snarky and worrying about how righteous everyone else was being, then compound the issue by the last 150 years or so.

I want to grow up and be like the old man who saw an obvious 'sinner' coming into their wonderful sanctuary. The story follows:

His name is Bill. He has wild hair, wears a T-shirt with holes in it, jeans, and no shoes This was literally his wardrobe for his entire four years of college. He is brilliant. Kind of profound and very, very bright. He became a Christian while attending college. Across the street from the campus is a well-dressed, very conservative church. They want to develop a ministry to the students but are not sure how to go about it.

One day Bill decides to go there. He walks in with no shoes, jeans, his T-shirt, and wild hair. The service has already started and so Bill starts down the aisle looking for a seat. The church is completely packed and he can't find a seat. By now, people are really looking a bit uncomfortable, but no one says anything. Bill gets closer and closer and closer to the pulpit, and when he realizes there are no seats, he just squats down right on the carpet.

By now the people are really uptight, and the tension in the air is thick. About this time, the minister realizes that from way at the back of the church, a deacon is slowly making his way toward Bill. Now the deacon is in his eighties, have silver-gray hair, and a three-piece suit. A godly man, very elegant, very dignified, very courtly. He walks with a cane and, as he starts walking toward this boy, everyone is saying to themselves that you can't blame him for what he's going to do.

How can you expect a man of his age and of his background to understand some college kid on the floor? It takes a long time for the man to reach the boy. The church is utterly silent except for the clicking of the man's cane.

All eyes are focused on him. You can't even hear anyone breathing. The minister can't even preach the sermon until the deacon does what he has to do. And now they see this elderly man drop his cane on the floor.

With great difficulty, he lowers himself and sits down next to Bill so he won't be alone. Everyone chokes up with emotion.

When the minister gains control, he says, "What I'm about to preach, you might never remember. But, what you have just seen, you will never forget."