Return to your one thing today: knowing God

“Do you not know? Have you not heard? Yahweh is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the whole earth.

He never grows faint or weary;
there is no limit to His understanding.

He gives strength to the weary and strengthens the powerless.

Youths may faint and grow weary,
and young men stumble and fall,
but those who trust in the Lord will renew their strength;
they will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary;
they will walk and not faint.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭40:28-31‬ ‭

“Do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be afraid, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you; I will help you;
I will hold on to you with My righteous right hand.”
‭‭Isaiah‬ ‭41:10‬ ‭

Needing to remember that God is my life, and what I see now both good and bad are more or less temporary illusions.
One thing is for sure, God is with us.
If He's with us what could dare come up against us?  (Romans 8:31)

When I fail or ruin something (which I do frequently), I'm still with God.
When someone fails or ruins me, I'm still with God.
When money fails, I'm still with God.
When relationships fail, I'm still with God.
When my emotions bring me low, I'm still with God.
Even in the pit of my mistakes, I'm still with God.

In sickness and in health, I'm still with God.
In life or in death, I'm still with God.
In loss of this or wreck of that, I'm still with God.

We lose and we gain, we feel great and we feel terrible, it's our fault or it's not our fault...doesn't really matter.

What matters most is that today we are all being given opportunities to know God more deeply.
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Blog I read today:
One Thing I Ask
Psalm 27:4
One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to gaze upon the beauty of the Lord and to inquire in his temple.

▪️David was called “a man after God’s own heart.” Although David could have wanted many things (victory over his enemies, the crown on his head), we see him relentlessly return his focus to God. David sought God more than any earthly treasure.

One Thing You Lack
Mark 10:21
And Jesus, looking at him, loved him, and said to him, “You lack one thing: go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.”

▪️The rich young ruler claimed to be righteous, but he is unwilling to give Jesus the one thing He asked for: himself. The rich young ruler was willing to impress Jesus with his track record, but he was unwilling to surrender his status.

One Thing is Necessary
Luke 10:41-42
But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.”

▪️One day Martha had an unexpected houseguest—the Son of God. While she toils over a meal for Jesus and twelve other men, Mary sits at Jesus’ feet. Jesus responds to her complaint by saying, “You are anxious and troubled with much serving.” Martha was so focused on doing a good thing that she missed out on the best thing.

One Thing I Know
John 9:25
He answered, “Whether He is a sinner I do not know. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.”

▪️A man born blind is healed by Jesus. When interrogated by the religious leaders, he doesn’t present a well-prepared speech or get intimidated. He simply tells his story: He was blind, but now he sees. In response, Jesus declares the blind man seeing and the religious leaders blind.

One Thing I Do
Philippians 3:13-14
Brothers, I do not consider that I have made it my own. But one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

▪️The apostle Paul didn’t let the baggage of his past dictate his goal. He was focused. He knew his goal, and he wasn’t going to waver. This Pharisee of Pharisees, who had everything going for him, laid down his life to follow Jesus.

5 Verses, 1 Lesson
These five verses highlight five different people from five different walks of life, yet each point to the same lesson:
* David: Knowing God is at the heart of prayer.
* Rich young ruler: Knowing God is at the heart of surrender.
* Martha: Knowing God is at the heart of service.
* Blind man: Knowing God is at the heart of witness.
* Paul: Knowing God is at the heart of ambition.

In summary, the lesson is this: Our lives are to be singularly focused on Jesus.
Each story is about not being distracted—by aims or money or serving or fear or our past—but being completely centered on Jesus. When we strain to follow Him, our hearts are filled with joy and purpose and love. When we fix our eyes on Him, we receive the one thing our souls truly long for: Himself. (By Camden McAfee)

Hell on earth

“Religion is lived by people who are afraid of hell. Spirituality is lived by people who have been through hell.”

The recipe for happiness hardly calls for Hell.  It's usually getting what we want that feels most likely to be satisfying.  

I hate Hell, yet the reality of my life is to see that I deserve it.  

My little ego wants to believe I could be good enough to not deserve it, and sometimes I believe that I'm pretty okay.  Not that I'm perfect, but that I'm not THAT bad to be told that I should rot in hell forever.  My ego simply won't believe that.  

And so long as my ego is there my thinking I don't deserve Hell will be there too.  Although it's nice to feel like you don't deserve Hell, it's also what hinders us from the reality of the Good News of the Gospel.

When an injustice is done to me then my ego will complain, get confused and have a laser focus on how wronged it was, almost without even taking into account how wrong I am because that would bruise my ego.   No matter what, I cannot and should not be wrong if my ego is preserving it's integrity.  My pride fights to always be right in order for it to remain intact.  It is built and held together by feeling right.  Without it I am rendered utterly to the flames of Hell...where I belong had it not been for saving grace.  

I rush to PRESERVE myself from THAT.  That crushed feeling of my own badness and shame.  Feeling small and leprous to society. 

But the gospel cannot get in if I am constantly resisting the very truth upon which it is built.   That I am sinner saved by grace.  And this requires that I let go and face the hellfire feelings of losing control and killing that part of me that is continually trying to preserve itself.  To die is to gain are more than slogan words, they are life-giving directions!  

And once I've passed through Hell, I'll avail myself to see with new eyes because I'll be new.  

The question in my self before I do that though is always "will I really be made new?"  

*chills* sounds familiar? 

"Did God really say....?" (Genesis 3:1)

That's the question the serpent asked Eve before she went against God's command.   

Then I'm caught in the terror of my own knowledge of Genesis 3:1 and the present reality of what seriously feels like death! 

Knowledge is only as good as the action that backs it up.  So I know that to die is to gain, BUT I'm freaking scared and angry to go through death!  Why?  Because before I die, my self is screaming with a lively shriek: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! 

I guess what I'm trying to say is my expectations for transformation is beginning to be more realistic haha. 

The flesh will hold on to preserving itself, meaning it will not go down without a fight!

The Spirit holds on to our life in the Spirit which comes only after we have first died to the flesh.  

We are not made to live a dual life.  Everyday we are killing sin or it is killing us.  

“because the one who sows to his flesh will reap corruption from the flesh, but the one who sows to the Spirit will reap eternal life from the Spirit.”

Galatians 6:8 

I need to drench myself in hope which is drenching myself in vulnerability over and over again.  Because the war is in God's hands, I simply go into it with the hope that He will defend me. 

There's no tangible preparation for that kind of thing, only hope.  Hope can feel like weak sauce but in that God is magnified because it shows Himself off to us.  

My natural self says that I will never be able to change, so why even try?  But the implanted Word in my heart whispers a song of hope that leads me through my valley of the shadow of death.  I go cringing or weak or simply deflated most of the time, yet there is only one way to God and that is through Jesus and the NEW LIFE He has promised us.  

We go through Hell on earth because we know it's not our end. 

Jmegrey

Shame and humility

Boy do I have a story for you! 

The other day I was on my way to park at Trader Joe's and a Caucasian lady with her son angrily looked at me and motioned for me to slow down.  Her face was red hot.  I immediately did and felt both embarrassed and guilty.  I knew I should apologize and I started practicing in order to shake off the humiliation I felt to ready myself.  But then she found me in the store and barged up to me and started cussing at me telling me that this wasn't China.  At that I got real offended and told her calm down so that I could apologize. But she yelled in face that she didn't want my apology she wanted me to drive right, and I got so angry I told her if she didn't want my apology then I'll continue to drive the way I drive.  And she said, "go back to china, and I hope you get hit by a car and die." I felt so scared but I tried to muster up some strength but i weakly responded "I hope you do too."  Which made me feel both defeated and dishonoring to God.  I was so shaken afterwards.  Shaken to my core.  My heart was laid bare before God and He knew that I had so badly wished I had yelled in the store that this lady just told me to go back to China and that white supremacists shouldn't be allowed to shop at Trader Joe's.  I wanted to embarrass her in front of everyone and throw shame on her like she did to me.  I played the scene over and over in my mind seeing her embarrassment at everyone staring at her and it felt good to see that.  God knew too, cuz He was right there with me.    Everything she said I took personally.  Even though I know anger makes people do and say stupid things, and I'm sure she was more angry about jeopardizing the safety of her kid, but I wasn't trying to defend her.  I wanted revenge simply for how she made me feel and yet another part of me knew that God in His mercy kept me from getting it.  I knew I was in the wrong, and I knew I needed to apologize but when she started making racist remarks and cussing at me I just didn't have it in me.  I got so....crushed.  I felt my core crack in half and she was winning while I was being crushed.  The feeling was....so terrible.  I couldn't move or breathe because I was caught red-handed and everything she was accusing me of was true and the consequence she said was for me to get hit by a car and die.  So much hate.  So much hurt.  All I could do was freeze until the pain passed, I cried until my eyes stung and began to think about what all this was.  What should I have done in that situation?  What could I have said to represent Christ to this lady being that I was the one who was wrong?   

It's so difficult to give Christ to someone when you know you're wrong and when they're being so cruel about it. 

But I learned a good lesson that day.  When I give Christ I am always the core-broken guilty one who has committed wrong doing in the sight of God.  I just don't always remember that when things appear to be guilt-free.  But we all know that no one is ever not in need of Christ's forgivenesses.  If we really understood God's holiness we would begin to see more clearly all the ways in which we are sinning every second deep within our self-centered hearts.  And all I can bring in actuality is an openness to my own humility when being Jesus with skin on to someone else--even the lady at Trader Joe's.  Which is crazy painful under those particular circumstances!   But it's also the gateway to grace.  

God gives grace to the humble.

"But He gives greater grace. 

Therefore He says: 

God resists the proud, 

but gives grace to the humble."

-James 4:6

Grace begins with an awful taste.  It is terrible and it is amazing.  Terrible because the core of who you are is exposed and you feel the unbearable flames of Hell so close to your soul.   How wrong you are: Shame! Shame! Shame!  Smeared all over you bringing you down to Hell.  But it is amazing grace, because at that very moment you also experience Jesus reach for you by taking your place and giving you His life instead of your death.  In an instant you are rescued and safe from what you deserved in your guilt and shame...because Jesus takes your place.  Jesus took my place when I was so aware and knee deep in my core-shaking shame. 

I hope my testimony reminds you guys to look at that awful grace and remember that it is what saves us from what is truly awful, and that is the guilt of our own sin.  I wish I wasn't driving fast in the first place, but also that I had handled that situation with less pride and more humility in order to give her Christ instead of a piece of Jamie.  

"Pride comes before destruction, 

and an arrogant spirit before a fall."

"Better to be lowly of spirit with the humble than to divide plunder with the proud."

-Proverbs 16:18-19

I guess God in His mercy is teaching me about what it means to walk in humility in order for greater grace to unfold in my life. 

Love you guys. 

jmegrey

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Response from a fellow saint in Christ that really encouraged me:

The ease by which a person is offended reveals the shallowness of his character. Offense is only possible in a proud heart, which becomes outraged at being treated in such and such a way. "How dare that person!"

In contrast, humility makes a person impossible to offend, because their character has been forged through a devotion to forgiveness. There is no path to mature character except through repeatedly choosing humility when wronged--choosing to forgive, to repent where necessary, and to love again.

Many in our culture now celebrate offense, because it looks like passion. But it is counterfeit passion, as loveless as it is misguided. It manipulates, threatens, and withdraws affection until it gets its way. It has no peace, no patience, and no notion of providence. As Jesus said, it is the meek that will inherit the earth. Those who wait confidently for God's vindication, who forgive their enemies, who even learn to love them--they will be glorified in the end.

The Corner of a Nanny's Grin

Snow seemed to make everything a reason for sleeping in.  Pam and Sicily lay beneath the muted atmosphere of parked cars and frozen flowers.  It was too late to say good morning and too early to leave the house, so they both remained in their respective rooms, one sound asleep, the other eyes wide and thinking.

(Sicily)

"What time is it??"
"When do I need to get in the shower, if I get up in 30 minutes I'll have an hour to get ready."
"I really don't want to get up."
"Why do I have to meet Karen for coffee?  What does she want from me?  A little sister to boss around?  Someone to make herself feel stronger, better, good about herself?"
"Sicily, stop it."
"I can help her.  Maybe she will end up being the one who needs someone to talk to without knowing."
"I can be the bigger person."
"But....sleep..."
"I need to go the super market."
"What should I get?"
"I need to be healthier."
"Or will I just get compulsive and throw it all out again?"
"Why."
"Maybe I should get up and write."
"Maybe I should get up."
(30 minutes later)
"..."

(Pam)

(Dreaming about a snow storm turned flood)

---

Sicily stayed in bed, texted Karen about needing to get some maintenance done on her car, but with guilt wrought around her thoughts, rescheduled the meeting to later that evening.  An anxiety far enough to not be bothered for a while.  Sunlight began melting the whiteness outside, and the air stayed stubbornly cold.  Both girls lay their limbs down for a longer than usual time because it was, after all, a post snow day.

---

(Sicily)

I got a text yesterday.  It was from Aaron.  It caught me off guard since he had agreed to not contact me for at least a week while I made the transition of dating to being friends.  An agreement implemented by me for his lack of past baggage removal.  I wanted to give him time to be ok, because he obviously wasn't ready for another relationship. Maybe what he was looking for was a friend with benefits, although he denied it when I made that joke, which really wasn't a joke on my part, but whatever it is that's going on in his intricate circle of thoughts, I knew I had to let him go.  I love feeling useful when helping people, but the dynamic nature of a relationship can get too overwhelming.  Then after the first day I missed him, but after the second day I questioned how much I liked him at all.  We hardly had a meaningful conversation, and never were they instigated by him.  We kissed.  We held hands.  He bought me dinners, and then we sat.

---
Aaron and Sicily frequently sat like obligated lego pieces without any real purpose but to take up space of the remaining hours.  There were moments that she liked him more than not, but the few days of no contact had provided some clarity on the maddening truth:  she sought companionship in all the wrong places.

The Corner of a Nanny's Grin (Pam)

Click.  Whirrr.

Commercials.  I don't see why I continue watching television when I can't stand these stupid commercials.  Yea, like I'm really going to believe a cheeseburger from the right joint will make me thin, desirable, and satisfied.  No, I'll be miserably fat, despondent because I'm fat and undesirable, and utterly dissatisfied because I'm fat, despondent and undesirable.  Whoa Pam.  Calm down.

Great.  Now I want a burger.  What time is it?

"Hello, hello."

"Oh, hey Sis.  You're right on time, please convince me that I don't want a burger."

"Pam, you're a vegetarian.  You hate burgers.  Besides, I'm going to make enchiladas mamacita!"

Uh oh.  Another one of Sicily's attempts at cooking.  Now I really want a burger.

"Yum!  Sounds great Sis, thanks.  I knew you'd talk me out of that burger."

Burger.  Burger.  Burger.  Burger.  Burger.

"Why crave a burger when you can have a cozy, toasty, zesty, sexy enchilada, right?"

She may not make the best mexican dishes, but her ambition is worth a taste.  Burger.  Shut up!  I know her intentions mean well.  She looks so happy.  No.  Determined.

"So, how was your day?"

Crap.  Did I turn in my math?

"It was ok.  The kids were acting...."

Did I turn in my math?

"Sorry, the kids were what?"

"Huh? Oh.  Yea.  The kids were just acting bratty.  You know how it is.  I'm just glad to be home."

Dang it.  That was bad.

"Sorry Sis, I am paying attention, sorry.  I just suddenly remembered I have an important paper to turn in, and I forgot if I actually submitted it or not.  Sorry."

"No, you're fine.  I understand.  I remember the stress of papers and all that.  No worries."

Important-ish.  I hate school.

The Corner of a Nanny's Grin (Sicily)

In my dreams I didn't want to wake up, but staying unconscious wasn't exactly ideal either.
I felt the bottom of my foot against my calf, like an ice pack thawing a sensitive black eye.  I knew I had time to spare, but time always seemed to sneak behind my back when I stopped thinking about it, so I clung to my anxieties.

My eyes felt raw, especially the right eye.  It kept shut like a stubborn lid of a jar, and I let it have it's way.  After all it's way was my way.  I needed the distraction from the anxieties that began bobbing their ugly heads all around my quiet morning.

'How much time do I have?'
'What should I wear today?'
'Will I be as cold as last time?'
'What should I have for breakfast?'
'What if I get hungry at work, should I pack a snack?'
'What if I get tired?'
'What if I stop thinking about the time, and I end up late?'
'What's that smell?'
'Do I need to do laundry?'
'Should I call my mother?'
'What should I do after work?'
'Should I go out?'
'Should I make dinner or buy it?'
'When did I last go to the dentist?'
'I need to get dressed now.'

And as if Time knew she'd slip past me like a sly thief, I was rushing out the door with the same outfit from yesterday, no snack, and feigning for a strong cup of hot, black coffee.

---

I never know what to say the moment I walk through that door.  Greetings are always somewhat awkward for me; only because it feels too short to be sincere or too bothersome if drawn out past a certain point.  I tend to stick with the sudden obligation find something as an escape route to avoid either situation, but that usually turns out even more awkward than anything since my so-called obligations are normally assigned to having to use the restroom, texting someone (since I can't get my phone to magically ring), or picking up an article and having a sudden interest in it.  Thankfully, so far as nannies go, my job requires minimal time and proximity with the employing adults.

The Corner of a Nanny's Grin

             Oh the scent of sweetly toasted warm coffee on a morning filled with chilly whispers.  Here they were, Pam and Sicily, two young things from opposite atmospheres to the one they now found themselves in.  Nashville. 

“Mind if I turn the heater on?”  Sicily asked a sleepy Pam.

“Sure.”  Pam responded only half aware of how cold it actually was and more concerned with not being able to get more adequate rest.

“I’ll turn it off in a few minutes since the heat usually lingers a while”, both girls were acutely aware of the significance of such an action. 

“Do you work today?”  Sicily always asked.

“Well, I work later around 3, but I wanted to get some homework done before that.  Don’t know if I’ll actually get around to it, but that’s the plan.”  Pam rummaged through the fridge hoping to find something that wasn’t there before.  A hearty meal.

“What are your plans for the day?” she asked still searching hopelessly as reality and the lack of culinary ambition became more apparent to her now awakening eyes.

Sicily stood leaning against the wall of their small kitchen, holding her oversized mug of hot earl grey tea and sighing rather loudly against her ego.

“I’m going to spend the day not thinking about what I should be doing and actually do what I know I came out here to do.  Write.”

She took another sip of her tea and withheld another dramatic sigh.  Pam reached for a bowl and spoon for the inevitable routine breakfast.  The two girls went about their mornings quietly and thoughtfully, one occupied with the immediate attention of homework and work, the other conflicted by her freedom and mental prison of a staunch lack of prioritizing her legless ambitions. 

6:18pm

Sicily had made it past 3 hours at a quiet café downtown; 3 postcards, 18 text messages with her mother and Pam, one with a boy she barely knew but kissed, one larger than life cup of cell-torturing coffee that took about 2 hours to consume, and several apathetic stares at her fellow constituents later, she was headed back for the apartment.  3 postcards.  That’s better than nothing.

It felt daunting, her inability to utilize her time the way she envisioned herself too when she was too busy with work to actually do so.  It was a dynamic combination of nutrition, social interaction, and pure self-centeredness that inhibited her feeble ambitions from avoiding atrophy in their legs.  She sighed again.  So much sighing.  All day sighing.  It made for a better alternative to staring or despairing.  The insignificance of her troubles brought about a silver lining, a small but honest chuckle to herself.  Tomorrow is another day, I can start tomorrow.  No more dilly dallying.  Did I just say dilly dallying?  Another honest chuckle.

“Hi Sis.”  Pam said softly as she fumbled through the door, relief to be home very much apparent on her countenance.

“Hello.  How was work.”  An automatic reply.

“Oh, it was ok.  The kids were weird today.  I don’t know, maybe they were just cooped up for too long, but Liam was not listening to me and Rachel had a weird attitude all day.  Bailey, oh gosh, he just has these mood swings.  He kept kicking the door because the other two were playing a game without him.”  Pam imitated an angry six year old pouting and kicking the door, nailing it with her facial expression of ferocity and discontent at the hardships of being six.

“I know, Jakey was being a butt to me the other day when he spilled his chocolate milk all over the table and I told him to clean it up.  The look of shock and disgust!  He wanted me to clean up his mess, and I told him I’d put him in a time out if he didn’t clean his mess up right away.  Of course when he consented he just grabbed a paper towel and half-heartedly dabbed at his mess doing little to soak up the mess, and when I asked him to wipe it more thoroughly he said ‘What?  You’re making me clean it up twice?!’  I told him, ‘Jake I’ll make you clean it up 8 times if that’s what it takes’ and I tried to sound firm.  He still gave me a hard time, but I let it go.”

“Kids.”  The girls made empathetic eye contact with one another followed by a sarcastic grin.

“Well, Carol said she might start going to kids counseling for Bailey, his anger issues are getting out of hand, and she thinks it’s got something to do with herself as a mother.”  Pam held a look of disbelief.  She knew Carol was a great mother, and it was just another layer of stress to heap such self-deprecation on the poor woman. 

“Look at us,” Sicily stated, “What?” Pam asked curiously.

“We were once those bratty kids, telling our parents to shove off in our own mischievous ways and thinking we were being short handed in life.  Now looking back it’s like a fog has lifted and we see just how unfair mothers really have it.  Carol shouldn’t beat herself up for what every kid is bound to go through.” 

Pam nodded in agreement.  “I don’t know, I mean it’s normal but maybe counseling could help.  It doesn’t hurt to try.  Bailey does have a real bad handle on his anger, Carol’s tried making him do laps around the house in order to help him get it all out, but still, she’ll find him a few minutes later kicking the door to the garage like a mad man.  Then Liam, I mean he’s three now so he shouldn’t still be using a pacifier or biting people, so she started telling him that she will bite off the tips of his pacifiers whenever he bites someone.  She’s already cut 4 of his pacifiers up telling him that she bit them off in order to show him how it feels to be the victim of biting.” 

The girls both smiled at the clever maneuver.  Carol was a great mom, she was just a mom of three kids born without much need for anything, and that usually meant they were bound to find their outlets of desire through absurdities like kicking doors and biting people.

“I’m starving.”  Pam was once again unable to pinpoint what exactly it was that she was hungry for.

“I’ll make us a nice hearty kale and lentil stew, tomorrow.”  Sicily chimed, a bit afraid of the commitment that came with such an offer.  She knew she needed to make stew.  She needed the practice, and she needed to feed Pam, it was a gesture from a part of her that she wanted to exercise more; goodness.  It was a grasp she often found slippery and cruel despite her good intentions.