Praise vs. Despair

This is from Isaiah 61. The part I want to ramble on about is in bold, but I'm putting a few verses here in case you're looking for context. 

 ¹ The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, 
       because the LORD has anointed me 
       to preach good news to the poor. 
       He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, 
       to proclaim freedom for the captives 
       and release from darkness for the prisoners, 

 ² to proclaim the year of the LORD's favor 
       and the day of vengeance of our God, 
       to comfort all who mourn,

 ³ and provide for those who grieve in Zion— 
       to bestow on them a crown of beauty 
       instead of ashes, 
       the oil of gladness 
       instead of mourning, 
       and a garment of praise 
       instead of a spirit of despair. 
       They will be called oaks of righteousness, 
       a planting of the LORD 
       for the display of his splendor.

I am often amazed at the number of Christians who dwell in the land of despair and doom and gloom (especially when it comes to politics, but definitely in other areas as well). You know what, the president or prime minister is not going to be the president or prime minister forever. The war in Afghanistan will not last forever. Gay marriage and abortion, believe it or not, will not be the critical points of concern forever. Presidents come and go. Wars come and go. Issues come and go. 

But we are an eternal people, who should have an eternal perspective, and should stop whining and moaning and griping about things in this world that we already know is "groaning as in the pains of childbirth" because of us and our sin! Duh! The world is a screwed up place. We should know that already. Griping about it is pointless. In fact, it's worse than pointless. It's a "spirit of despair" that shows we really don't get it. We are the people who should see that there is life that encompasses far more than our little sanctimonious selves. We are the ones who should be able to step outside of ourselves and see people as they are. We should be able to love and encourage them where they're at, not because we're good at that sort of thing, but because the one who is good at that sort of thing works through us. We should be the ones who find that which is praiseworthy and praise it!

Can you imagine how the world would be different if Christians were people who were known for being so full of praise for that which is praiseworthy that it was as if that were the very clothes we wore?! 

You Shall Not Steal - A Shazam Moment

During our Sunday morning service this week, Kevin read another of the 10 commandments. (We've been hitting one a week.)  This week was "You shall not steal." That's pretty short and sweet. But it, and Kevin's commentary after reading it, and the Mountains Beyond Mountains book I finished recently, have all gotten me to thinking about myself and in what ways I steal from others. 

I suppose it was one of those moments when I had had have a concept sitting around in my head for ages and ages but suddenly that concept hit the reality of my life at a specific moment in time and it was suddenly like Gomer Pile had yelled "Shazam!" and little light bulbs started going off in my head. And I pictured myself filling my shopping cart with things at Target and each purchase being just one more way in which I've gathered resources to myself that weren't meant for me. 

The quote that I mentioned in my Mountains Beyond Mountains review is particularly what hit me. 

How could a just God permit great misery? The Haitian peasants answered with a proverb:"Bondye konn bay, men li pa konn separe," in literal translation, "God gives but doesn't share." This meant, as Farmer would later explain it, "God gives us humans everything we need to flourish, but he's not the one who's supposed to divvy up the loot. That charge was laid upon us."

And I realized that it wasn't just someone else buying something they didn't really need that was a problem. ME buying something that I didn't really need was a problem. I've tried to reduce our expenses before and buy things used and so on. But it has been more because I wanted to "reduce" or "reuse" than because I held clearly in my mind the idea that I needed to share the resources that God had given to us (us plural, as in, "us, the whole wide world").

Don't get me wrong. We give. We give to our church, to Compassion International, to the Door of Faith Orphanage, and to several other organizations and people. I feel like I have a grasp on giving. What I didn't have in my head was the picture of the person in need who will be missing out on something because of my purchase. 

I know, there's the whole, "But your purchase gave someone in that needy country a job (where they were able to make 6 cents an hour building that for you)." Yeah, yeah. My purchase isn't greed on my part, it's benevolence. Right. But really that's missing the point entirely. My hoarding of stuff doesn't benefit anyone (not even myself because then I have to find a way to cram that stuff into the house). I need to find a way to live not just with less, but more simply over all.  (And with less doesn't mean that I have less. Just that I buy less. There's the whole "Live Simply" movement that involves buying lots of stuff and then getting rid of it quickly. I really don't think that benefits anyone, even if it looks nicely austere.) 

It seems like I've tried spending less many, many times in the past and then the kids need clothes or I need a new bookshelf or.... Yeah. So, what's the trick to really making it happen? 

End of Life Discussions

OK, so perhaps we can't prove, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that we're all gonna die, but I'd venture to say that it's pretty likely to occur. It's going to happen to me. It's going to happen to you. Whether we want to talk about it or not, it's one of those pieces of life that we get to undergo whether we ever talk about it or not.

But why don't we talk about it? Why does the inclusion of "end-of-life counseling" in the president's health care proposal stir so much acrimony? I can understand where people have concerns about a government run health care system or they might have issues with the increased cost to the nation or other similar issues.  But fighting the inclusion of counseling to help people know what their options are when making a living will? What is it that we're really fighting there? Is this a means for the nation to channel Dylan Thomas in raging against the dying of the light? It's not the counseling we're afraid of. It's that bit about death.

The older sister of one of Nathan's former classmates died last Thursday. She was 14. She was hit by an SUV as she biked across a crosswalk and her body was thrown 60 feet. I heard that her mother spent most of the day thrown across her body crying. I can't get that image out of my mind. I ache for her loss and I imagine myself similarly prostrate across one of my children's lifeless forms if the same were to befall us. And that leads me to appreciate and love and cherish my kids all the more. They're not dead, yet. I'm not dead, yet. But all of us will be one day. Recognizing and being aware of that fact enables me to be more thankful for the life we have today.

The New York Times had an article on end-of-life care and counseling yesterday entitled, "At the End, Offering Not a Cure but Comfort." The article touches upon different people's ability to cope with the fact that they are nearing the end of their life. It described a cancer patient whose response to the tragic news that her cancer was terminal was to state matter-of-factly that she's rather live, thank you very much. Her response echoed the statements made by a gal in our church who passed away several years ago from a brain tumor. She "just wanted to get on with life." ... Isn't that what many of us would say when faced with death? "No thank you. I'll pass on that. I've got better things to do." And yet it comes anyway.

Why is discussing death left to the goths and morbid teens who have more life in them than the death they love to ruminate on? Why are we not more aware of death in our day-today lives? Rob and I both remind our kids that we're not going to be around forever.  We don't know the day of our demise, but we recognize that it's coming. We know that each day we have in which we can be with our kids and love them and raise them is a gift. We try hard not to take that for granted. As much as I'd love to promise my kids that I'll always be here for them, I'd be a fool to say that. There are no guarantees.

I would have thought that Terry Schiavo's situation would have taught us all a lesson. Death is coming and it's not always as clean and definitive as one might hope. Talking about death with our family members might seem like a real downer, but if something like what happened to Terry happened to us, wouldn't that downer of a conversation take on a whole new light? Wouldn't our family members feel relieved that we'd written down our wishes? The pain of the death might not be diminished, but at least it wouldn't also be shackled with the doubt, guilt and other issues that can come with trying to decide about pulling that plug.

The beautiful thing when talking about death is that it proves to be such a perfect foil for life. It illuminates and highlights the precious nature of that which we often take for granted. As Natalie Babbitt said in Tuck Everlasting, "Don't be afraid of death, be afraid of the unlived life."