Let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith… Hebrews 12:1b-2a
In the early years of homeschooling, I began to re-evaluate the role of failure in life. I’d spent a good portion of my adult years berating myself for stupid mistakes, wasted time, and the like – to the ironic point of wasting more time stupidly dwelling on past mistakes. It changed when I noticed my ungodly habit rubbing off my kids and recognized the absolute desolation of refusing to learn from past mistakes.
For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, whereas worldly grief produces death. (2 Corinthians 7:10)
Instead, I began to tell my children what I had learned from mistakes. When they failed at something, I would repeat a phrase they likely grew sick of hearing over the years: never waste a good mistake.
I meant it. The usefulness of failure became clear to me during an afternoon chat with a neighbor on her front porch. She mentioned failing statistics several times in high school and talked about how much she hated standard deviations and probabilities. When she caught my blank stare, she asked, “Don’t you remember?”
I did not.
Ironically, I’d aced the class. Yet as the conversation progressed, it became clear she remembered far more statistics than I did despite her failures and my apparent success.
As I took this new thought to the Lord, He showed me where my personal areas of failure were now lessons more deeply etched than those areas I’d skimmed over by succeeding.
Because of this realization, I determined to not only allow my children to fail but to show them how to best learn from it. I didn’t withhold the large red X on incorrect problems, and I resisted the trend in my circles to give them straight As at the end of each grading period.
Instead, I graded appropriately. Good grades were earned, not granted. Whenever work was done incorrectly, I would bring the graded paper back to my little pupil and have them rework the problem. Together, we would think through what went wrong.
However, I did not change the grade. Instead, I provided a chance to learn from mistakes so the next grade would be better.
I wanted to challenge them, and I wanted them to fail so they would see failure is not an end. It is not a thing to be feared. Instead, failure is merely another step in the journey. In truth, failure can even be a more memorable step than instant success. Whatever we wrestle through, we tend to recall more vividly.
I’m convinced this is part of why God allows us to fail. By failing, we see our own fragility; our weakness and need for Him. Also by failing, we learn not to be afraid to try because we discover failure is not so bad, after all.
In fact, through failure, we learn humility and to better trust the God who never fails.
"Remember this and stand firm, recall it to mind, you transgressors, remember the former things of old; for I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me, declaring the end from the beginning and from ancient times things not yet done, saying, 'My counsel shall stand, and I will accomplish all my purpose,' (Isaiah 46:8-10)
Now that I’ve covered three of the most prominent myths of homeschooling (here, here, and here), it’s time to dive into what I’ve learned from my own homeschool experience. The next several homeschool posts will be advice I’d give to myself if I could have a do-over, including rejecting the lie of self-reliance.
But before I continue, note two important facts. First, I am offering homeschool advice from the perspective of a former homeschooler whose children are now in college and nearing graduation. I’ve been deeply immersed in the homeschool community as well as worked for two years at the private Christian school where my three attended for the high school years. I have friends who currently work in public schools and attended public school myself back in my school days, so my perspective is not one of a limited, narrow focus.
Second and probably the most important, I advise from a Christian perspective. I cannot offer any insight outside of Christ because my life is wholly wrapped up and defined by His. I first truly understood what He did for me at the age of 26, and since then I have grown so close to and dependent upon Him that I cannot even fathom offering advice apart from the God I serve. There is my disclaimer; do with it what you will.
That being said, let’s begin.
You Are Not Enough
I know our culture likes to pad up our egos with sweet little lies like: you are enough,you can do whatever you set your mind to, and you’ve got this.
The problem is, all this self-reliance is absolute rubbish. At the risk of sounding negative, I promise you will discover how hollow and futile such empty adages are if you homeschool. However, the understanding that you are not enough is actually good news! Hear me out.
If you are convinced in your own enoughness, how devastating will it be when – and yes, I did say when – you fail in some regard. You are human, and humans are all distorted by sin and fallible. If you are enough, you are depending upon a broken instrument to instruct your young.
The actual truth is: you can’t do this. But God can.
He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it (1 Thessalonians 5:24, ESV).
Learn to accept that you are not and never will be enough, not for yourself, your spouse, or for your children. You will have moments of failure. You will lose your temper. You will have bad days. You may find subjects that came easily for you do not come easily for your children, and you may struggle to translate concepts that seem obvious to you into terms they can comprehend. You will have doubts and struggles and failures.
You most certainly are not enough, so breathe a sigh of relief and choose to seek the God who called you to homeschool and learn to rely – daily – upon His infinite well of wisdom and resource.
And take heart in the fact that sometimes failure is part of learning well – both for you and for your offspring. More on that later.
Pray without Ceasing
The best way to reject self-reliance is to learn to think of your day as an ongoing conversation with the Lord who called you and who guides you. Imagine the Holy Spirit as the director of your school, if it helps, and call on Him for advice when you run into a discipline issue or a problem you can’t solve. Ask Him and wait for His lead. I promise He will not steer you wrong, although if you’re like me, you might run ahead of him because you feel you don’t have time to wait.
Which, for the record, I do not recommend.
He will give you what you need, so ask Him and trust Him. Resist the urge to look to other sources for wisdom, because if God called you to homeschool, He alone can determine the right course of action for your specific call.
I am the LORD your God, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt. Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it (Psalm 81:10, ESV).
Don’t Fret over Your Weakness
When you feel weak, insecure, unable to teach, incapable of parenting 24/7, and frustrated with trying to play the roles of parent, teacher, counselor, principle, curriculum coordinator, and administrative assistant all at the same time, don’t worry. Instead, rejoice – difficult though it may be – because where you are weak is where you get to see God’s power shine.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me (2 Corinthians 12:9, ESV).
It’s a challenge to feel weak, inept, incompetent, but I can tell you from the other side that it is good.
My homeschool career was complicated by chronic intractable migraine with status migrainosis- a diagnosis I did not acquire for at least a decade. During stated decade (or more – time was fuzzy then), I suffered with daily headaches ranging from distracting to debilitating. I saw numerous doctors, some of whom didn’t believe me.
I also tried a number of medications, occasionally getting the number of headache days down to 20 or fewer per month before my body would adjust and a dosage increase would be required. Each of these medications brought side effects, and none of them served to improve my quality of life.
My poor children had to deal with migraine-brain, migraine prodromal rages, me fleeing to the bathroom to vomit in the middle of a lesson, and even passing out on the schoolroom floor.
Yet where I was weak, the Lord was strong. I truly couldn’t have done it in my own strength, but by God’s grace, my children learned both academics and compassion.
Fun fact: the term spam as it isused to describe junk email (among other internet delights) has its origins in a 1970s British television show. Monty Python’s Flying Circus was an oddball sketch comedy series featuring sometimes bizarre animations, entirely random and quirky subject matter, and often men badly dressed as women.
Indeed, the sketch titled “SPAM” features a man and woman lowered from the ceiling into a cafe where Vikings dine in the background and the proprietor reads the menu filled mostly with items containing various amounts of the tinned meat – including the final item, “Lobster thermidor aux crevettes with a mornay sauce garnished with truffle paté, brandy, and a fried egg on top and spam.”
And often, the repetition of the infamous canned mystery meat sets off a Viking chant in praise of Spam.
Why do I bring this up?
The more I see blatant lies go unchecked, unchallenged, and uncorrected in both media and society – and perhaps especially so as an election looms – I can’t help but feel as if the entirety of our news & entertainment industry is busily shouting, “Spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spam, spammity SPAM! Wonderful SPAM!” while we, the weary public, are just trying to hear what’s on the menu.
Even when we do manage to hear a word through the cacophony of deceit, we’re disheartened to learn all our options contain varying degrees of hyper-processed pork. We can have a little SPAM or a lot of SPAM; we may even choose a culinarily excellent dish with a bit of SPAM, but we cannot entirely escape SPAM.
And you know what? I don’t like spam.
I’m just glad my hope is not in the outcome of this election nor the sanity of my fellow Americans. Either way, I can no longer check an increasing certainty that the last days of the world are rapidly speeding by.
The coming of the lawless one is by the activity of Satan with all power and false signs and wonders, and with all wicked deception for those who are perishing, because they refused to love the truth and so be saved. Therefore God sends them a strong delusion so that they may believe what is false, in order that all may be condemned who did not believe the truth but had pleasure in unrighteousness. (2 Thessalonians 2:9-12)
But friends, you do not have to toe the party line nor give into the delusion. There is a better Way. His name is Yeshua, known more commonly as Jesus.
For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation for all people, training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age, waiting for our blessed hope, the appearing of the glory of our great God and Savior Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works. (Titus 2:11-14)
It’s not too late to join those of us on the narrow way that leads to life! All are welcome, though not all choose it. I would love to talk to you more if you have questions; feel free to reach out.
During my youngest daughter’s high school cross country career, I quickly learned it was no sissy sport. On the best days – cool and lovely ones – the team seemed exuberant, almost giddy after practice and I enjoyed their high spirits, gaining insight on the term runner’s high by watching them interact. But on brutal race days in the late-summer Tennessee heat, my cross country kiddos told me the only thing that helped them stay the course was knowing there was an end and a healthy fear of Coach.
And several of those races were grueling. Runners often finished their race lighter in body weight than they began it – not only from lost water weight due to heavy perspiration, but also because many of them lost the contents of their stomachs along the way. Watching them, I can only imagine what it feels like to run a marathon.
I think this is why Paul likens following Yeshua (Jesus) to running a race. There are moments where everything is working together in glorious rhythm; legs pumping with vigor, breath coming steady, and strength coursing through every atom. The cool air is a caress and the course a feast for the eyes.
Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us… (Hebrews 12:1)
But then there are those other days; days you’ve given your all, yet there’s more running to be done. Much more. Behind you on the course lie the remnants of all you hoped would bring nourishment and strength, now only waste. You’re bone weary and your very soul aches. The course is tedious and stretches on without end, cruel, unforgiving. You keep going because you know there is an end, and a healthy fear of the One who set you on this path pushes you on.
I know it’s like that for me at times. This race – the Christian race – is no 5K but an ultra marathon. It starts the moment you surrender to the Lordship of the Christ and continues until He calls you home. There are moments of unspeakable, exquisite beauty and moments of equally exquisite pain. At times, you run in harmonious fellowship, and at times you run alone – alone, that is, save for the One who sustains you by His grace.
There are high peaks and deep, dark valleys. There is pleasure and pain and loss. And yet, you run because you know the One who ran this course before is worth more than the sum total of your breath and being and experience and everything. Far more.
At first, you probably run for yourself, but as the kilometers fall away, you learn to run for Him. He is the goal; He is the very great reward.
He is the One who endured an anguish so intense, it cannot be expressed in mere human terms. His life sets you on fire; His suffering would have ended you many times over, the weight too staggering for a frail human vessel to contain. Yet He did contain it, drinking the brimful cup of righteous wrath to the bitterest dregs.
You run because you know He ran the course before you and knows every punishing hill and ankle trap.
You run, not for glory nor any feeble trophy, but for the King of kings and Lord of lords who endured the curse of humanity so those who love Him might find endurance to continue even when their strength is spent.
… let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God (Hebrews 12:1b-2).
You run for Yeshua and for the crown of life He promises those who love Him and who are faithful even to death.
I know it’s hard; it’s hard for me, too. It was harder for Him who had so much more to leave behind even to be born as a human. When I feel like giving in, I reflect on how much more He suffered to die as an outcast, scorned by the creation of His own hands.
So, keep running, friend. Don’t let the length of the course nor what you’ve left behind discourage you. Let it go, and be lighter for it. Press on for the upward goal, staying the course because you know there will be an end and the One you run for is worth far more than you have to give.
That’s what keeps me going. May it keep you as well.
Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own, because Christ Jesus has made me his own. 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 (Philippians 3:12-14).
I write this, not because I’m running well but because I need the reminder for a torturous stretch of my race. Stay the course.
“I could never homeschool. I don’t have the patience for it!” Thus goes the most common refrain I heard from other parents when they first learned I homeschooled – back in the day, of course (my kids are all now in college).
My reply never varied. “Neither do I!” I would exclaim.
Homeschooling has been called “parenting on steroids,” and it’s true. A homeschool mom or dad is with the next generation 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, with no weekends, no planning periods (at least not in my case) and you’ll often boast an entourage when you visit the necessary room. You’ll have every button you own pushed (including many buttons you didn’t know existed), you play the roles of both parent and teacher, and you will have every grain of patience tried, tested, and expended – often before 9:00 a.m.
Yet you do NOT need a limitless amount of patience. What you DO need is a vibrant relationship with the Most High God. He is the Giver of all good gifts, and that includes patience. Instead of needing to be able to rely on your own strong & stalwart patience, you need to live in surrender to His Holy Spirit daily, hourly, so the fruit of patience can grow in you.
But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience... (Galatians 5:22a, emphasis mine).
Patience Is a Fruit
Don’t miss this: since patience is a fruit, we must remember fruit takes time to grow and mature. Patience is not a prerequisite for beginning a home school; it is a fruit cultivated as you walk through the process. And it is worth the labor to cultivate.
Will you fail? Absolutely. But I would argue it is actually good for you children to see past a carefully-curated, self-reliant, perfect-but-false image and instead watch the process of sanctification unfold in a real human being.
In fact, I see it as an advantage to homeschooling that your children have a front-row seat to watching you deal with your emotions, frustrations, and become impatient with them. It’s good they get to see you deal with stress inappropriately and repent, get back up, and keep going. It’s a lesson like no other when your young ones watch you lose your cool and learn that the world does not shift off its axis and career through space like an oversized ping-pong ball when a human being fails to respond to stress in perfect patience.
It is also good for children to learn that patience is developed over time so they know that they, too, will be afforded the opportunity to develop patience rather than carrying the weight of being expected to handle every bump with perfect composure the first time around.
When they see you fail, get up, dust yourself off, and keep going, they learn to do the hard work of moving through failure and sin to a place of repentance and renewal. Not to mention perseverance; that gem of a virtue which is so lacking in modern society.
Impatience Is Human
But of course, we are a notoriously impatient species. Just think of what happened to the fledgling nation of Israel when their leader Moses took a bit over a month in meeting with the Almighty and bringing back the tablets of His covenant. Rather than taking it as a good sign when they saw God’s glory remaining on the mountaintop, the restless horde decided to chip in their varied jewelry and make a trinket to worship. Impatience isn’t a modern problem; it’s a human one.
When the people saw that Moses delayed to come down from the mountain, they people gathered themselves together to Aaron and said to him, “Up, make us gods who shall go before us. As for this Moses, the man who brought us out of the land of Egypt, we do not know what has become of him: (Exodus 32:1, emphasis mine).
Would it be convenient if God called us to do hard things like homeschool and just bestowed upon us a wealth of patience, wisdom, and genius right off the bat, making us supernaturally perfect at the job at hand? Of course it would be convenient. But it wouldn’t build our relationship with Him as we learn to come and ask for our daily bread – or daily patience – and rely utterly on Him.
Trusting God to Fill our Lack
My friends, more than God wants perfectly patient little children, He wants children who understand our aching need of Him and who depend on Him in relationship. The psalmist writes in Psalm 81:10, “I am the LORD your God, who brought you up out of the land of Egypt. Open your mouth wide, and I will fill it.”
This is what He wants for us in anything we lack – a heart that understands its own fallibility and a desire to ask our Father for what we do not have, trusting Him to give it.
In my homeschool days when my patience was tapped (as it often was), I learned to cry out to the God who always showed such patience with me. And more importantly than anything else, I learned that my God’s grace truly is sufficient and His power is made perfect in my weakness – just as He said.
Watching the Fruit Grow
So what is the fruit of this daily struggle to learn patience, to fail and get up and try again? For one thing, I am a far more patient person than I was when I began this journey.
Perhaps more compelling is what I see in my kids, all in college as of this writing. They did not turn out perfect, nor did I expect them to. But at the ages of 23, 21, and 19, they are absolutely amazing young people. They are delightful to be around, they make me laugh and we have real fun together. Really. I enjoy my adult children, and they astonish me with their wisdom, their grit, and their willingness to do hard things.
And would you believe it? Each one of them has more patience in their early 20s than I did even in my 30s and 40s. They are not perfect, but they are exponentially more impressive and enjoyable than I was a their ages.
Patience, it seems, is not only taught through personal trial but also passed on to your young as they participate in the process. Our God is just good like that.
So if you are thinking of homeschooling but fear you don’t have enough patience, allow me to set your mind at rest: you don’t. Instead, you have something far better – 24/7 access to the Father of Lights who loves to give good gifts to His children and is there with you through the painful parts of acquiring those gifts. And you also have my testimony that it is worth it.
I don’t often dabble in political posts, but I do have concerns to voice; concerns not so much political as practical. I made a valiant attempt to listen to the most recent State of the Union address. I truly did, but the ongoing heckling, boos & cheers finally drove me to just read the transcript. What I read only reinforced a growing certainty that the leaders of my nation have completely lost touch with the actual people of America; a state of disunion between what it means to be an American citizen and what it means to wield power in the USA.
Above all, I see a future for all Americans. I see a country for all Americans. And I will always be President for all Americans because I believe in America. I believe in you, the American people. You’re the reason we’ve never been more optimistic about our future than I am now.
Of course, this is not news to anyone who can read between the dog-wagging and cat videos – that is to say, to anyone who can still read.
The greatest actual threat to “united we stand” is – well, it’s us; we the people. Or more specifically, our penchant for letting spin-doctors do the thinking for us while we entertain ourselves right into a brave new Huxleyan world.
And our leaders – well, they’re not exactly leading. They’re playing Two Truths and a Lie, wondering if the public will realize they’ve already shrugged and asked, “What is truth?” From what I’ve seen, they do not appear to accept the inconvenient constraints of reality.
After all, their economy is (evidently) soaring. Meanwhile our grocery bills are not their problem.
It is my totally irrelevant and probably ignorant opinion that the leaders of our nation haven’t the foggiest idea what their constituency really cares about. They are out of touch with the American people; the ones who exist outside the ranks of the wealthy and powerful.
They’ve enjoyed immense wealth, power, and privilege for so long, they no longer understand mere proles who work jobs, put kids through college, pay monthly bills, and wonder if they’ll be able to afford to retire.
Or pay their medical bills.
Or buy groceries.
I’m not sure what got under my skin the most this year. Was it the lack of decorum in the official echo chamber? The unusually coherent speech by our current President? The conflation between campaign rhetoric and reporting on our nation’s condition? The almost-but-not-quite funny way playground politics have played their way right into the highest ranking official positions of this country?
Of course, childishness is not a new characteristic of our ignoble leaders. Unfortunately. Ewwww, adulting – amiright?
I honestly feel we crossed the line fromdemocratic republicto oligarchy long before I was even aware of politics. I’ve never seen a presidential candidate who represents the analog people in my circles, and I can count the local candidates who have tried on one hand.
However, I can honestly say the Great American Side Show (i.e. -election year) makes me incredibly grateful my hope does not rest on the outcome of this election. Nor any other election, nor my feelings, nor anything else in all this beautiful, broken world. In fact, my sense of security has nothing to do with the future but is rooted in an event that’salready happened.
No matter who rules the nation I live in, how much or little civil freedom I’m afforded; even if every possession is stripped away through the collapse of our duct-taped economy, I have hope. Security. Certainty. Shalom.
Yeshua Messiah – Jesus Christ – the One who was at the beginning with God and is God; through whom all things were created and hold together – HE is my hope, my security, my certainty, and my peace. Even if my nation falls from oligarchy to dictatorship, ending all political or socio-economic freedoms, I will remain truly free; for freedom from enslavement to sin is the greatest and most lasting freedom there is.
But like many exotic flavors, freedom from sin is a thing you must taste for yourself. Explanations fall short, but the joy and peace are like no other.
Fady Al-Hagal, aka The Tenne-Syrian
Besides, I expect to suffer in this world, for my Lord did and He promised I would, too. Yet I also know my King has overcome the world and will one day reclaim His throne and reign forever. No more cheap shots and playground politics, but a perfect and just theocracy backed by true power and Truth and followed by all things made new, restored to glorious perfection.
So why does He wait? If He’s so powerful and just, why not come now, put an end to this charade, and banish evil once and for all time?
My dear reader, He waits for all those who will chose Him to do so. He waits out of mercy, not wishing that any perish but that all will allow Him to free them from slavery to sin and its destruction and prepare them for life everlasting.
The Lord is not slow to fulfill his promise as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a roar, and the heavenly bodies will be burned up and dissolved, and the earth and the works that are done on it will be exposed.
2 Peter 3:9-10
He waits, knowing those who have trusted in His Son’s sacrifice and surrendered to Him as Lord can endure this light and momentary suffering because of the eternal weight of glory, joy, and pleasures forevermore awaiting us when this world has passed.
Perhaps, sweet one, He waits for you.
Would you trust Him today? Despite the lies you’ve been sold, His Way is not the end of fun, merely the end of your unbearable burden; your hopelessness and despair. But what you’ll gain--! You’ll gain HIM, and He is everything worth having!
I say to the Lord, "You are my Lord; I have no good apart from You..." I have set the Lord always before me; Because He is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken... You make known to me the path of life; In Your presence there is fullness of joy; At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore. Psalm 16:1, 7, 11
But you can choose to cling to what the world calls fun and all the baggage it brings. You can allow your emotions to be steered by the outcome of potentially unhinged elites or the definitively un-sane media.
Or you can choose Christ and gain life and peace and joy and meaning and purpose without end. But the choice is yours to make. I earnestly hope you will choose life.
This past Saturday, I woke to one of Tennessee’s typical grey winter days. After reading my morning portion of the Word, I caved in to my Aussie’s pleading stares and vocalizations. A quick check of the weather app assured me the looming clouds would not spill over for “at least 60 minutes,” nonetheless, I donned my rain gear and set off with the furry victor happily trotting at my side. Since my portion is in Job at present, it seemed appropriate to me to listen to said book while I walked to enhance my morning’s reading, and I decided to backtrack and listen from Job chapter 1.
The weather app lied.
About a half-mile into my walk, a misty drizzle started. It was fairly warmish and the drizzle was light, so I decided to keep going. Besides, my poor pooch had already missed several walks this winter due to my state’s bipolar weather and my own health issues. As I passed the lake, I noted my friend the limpkin still inexplicably hanging out at the water’s edge despite being a good 450-odd miles from the northern edge of his typical range – not to mention last week’s snowpocalypse.
He stared at me as I passed, possibly wondering why the crazy human trudges through the mist and still stops to snap photos of him. Good question. I moved on, listening to Job’s lament and feeling a bit dissatisfied with my choice. But I kept walking.
About halfway through my short route, the drizzle picked up to a light rain. By this time, Eliphaz, Bildad, and Zophar had begun their potshots and part of my mind drifted to my own times of trial. The rain lent a dismal ambience to perfectly complement the audio.
When the light rain began to drift toward downpour, I debated the merits of fighting the rain for control over my phone’s screen to make a call. Instead, I put my head down and determined to finish the last 3/4 mile or so as quickly as possible. Then I saw movement. Through the raindrops coating my glasses, a familiar vehicle drew near.
My husband had noted the increase in damp and come to my rescue. Hallelujah!
The whole experience reminded me of a dark and dismal time in my life. Like Job, I’d lost a lot (though not all). The people I’d called “friend” abandoned me in my hour of need, and I felt myself alone, groping through a cold and misty waste with nowhere to turn. Then out of nowhere, as I trudged ahead in a grim and hopeless determination, my Rescuer appeared.
I found the Word of God – not just the Book but the Redeemer it speaks of: Yeshua Messiah, Jesus the Christ, Immanuel, God-With-Us. My Lord and my God. In my darkest hour, in abject fury and despair, I shouted my unbelief and unbelievably, He came to my rescue anyway.
He took me under the shelter of His wings and slowly began the work of healing my wounded heart, untwining the deeply-rooted sins that infected my soul, and cleaning up the mess I’d made. My journey since then has still had moments of despondency and pain, but I now have a safe and warm destination to look forward to.
Just as my husband picked me up and drove me home, my Lord and Savior is carrying me through the murk of life. And I know that someday, He will bring me Home. This is what I keep in mind when Job’s lot seems to be my portion. Even without the Book, Job himself clung to this hope and kept going.
My friend, so can you.
For I know that my Redeemer lives, and at the last he will stand upon the earth. And after my skin has been thus destroyed, yet in my flesh I shall see God.
For when you were slaves of sin, you were free in regard to righteousness. But what fruit were you getting at that time from the things of which you are now ashamed? For the end of those things is death.
Romans 6:20–21 (ESV)
A bit ago, a young man I admire made a social media post featuring a photo of a modern novel and verbiage indicating he couldn’t put it down. Always up for a good read, I mentally earmarked the book and snagged a copy before a little getaway.
The first paragraph of the book and its first sentence share dual primacy – a pleasant beginning for one who hungers for meaty sentences and an author who can carry a complex thought from initial capital through commas & semicolons, direct & indirect objects, lists, harmonizing subjects & verbs, delectable modifiers, and well-fleshed clauses all the way through to a satisfying conclusion ending in appropriate punctuation.
The book and I were off to a good start.
Then too much reality crept into the story, bringing with it the inevitable carnal brutality of a world under the curse. Admittedly, the dialog did fit the themes of 1990s-era video gamers and programmers, but as the plot progressed from two kids finding community around an old game console in a hospital to the female lead finding herself in an affair with an older (and married) man, I found myself quite able to put the book down.
Each time I laid it down, I grew more reluctant to pick it up again until I finally gave up about a third of the way in and dropped it into the library’s after-hours collection.
In fairness, the novel is well written. There are some excellent word pictures, a stark exploration of human relationships, and a unique backdrop built on the progression of video games. But I didn’t make it into the novel’s turn of the century.
So why did I find this novel – well written by my own admission – so put-downable? I believe it hit far too close to home for me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t relate to the characters; it was that the female character, despite having both the wealth and direction I lacked in my youth, struck a chord or two of familiarity. She was profoundly lost.
In fact, all the lead characters were lost. The college professor was not only lost but predatory, reminding me eerily of a time in young adulthood when I made an easy mark for a much older man – who just so happened to be into PC gaming. In the late 1990s, I even had a part to play in co-running a BBS (bulletin board system) running a multi-player Doom game over dial-up on additional phone lines run to my rental house. Close to home indeed.
The real-life version of the older man was also controlling, though much older and less appealing than the fictional character. Instead, he is part of the reason I never finished college and all of the reason the smells of whiskey and weed or the sound of a modem handshake make my stomach seize.
In fact, the book reminded me of far too many things of which I am now ashamed; things I long to impart to this younger generation filled with their guileless wonder at the complexity of life and relationships and the novelty of playing with fire, even if only vicariously. To each new generation, the world is new and interesting and relatively harmless – until it is not.
How can I relate this? There is no poetry wrought in the chains of sin, no charm in the Christless human condition, no velvet allure to the darkness. Without God, there is only need and hopelessness and a striving after the wind.
All streams run to the sea, but the sea is not full; to the place where the streams flow, there they flow again. All things are full of weariness; a man cannot utter it; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing. What has been is what will be, and what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun.
Ecclesiastes 1:7–9 (ESV)
Perhaps redemption came in the novel. Perhaps the characters found hope outside of human love and mere friendship or success. Perhaps. But while the old memories it dredged up are helpful to remind me what I was saved from, I found more sorrow in the pages of the novel than beauty or interest.
I’m incredibly thankful to be free of that clutching, devouring darkness. What an indescribable gift to belong to the Light of the World who gives goodness, joy, and hope in place of ashes and chains! I can only pray for others to find the Way and follow it and be faithful to share how the Great Redeemer found me wearing slave’s shackles and set me free.
Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!
Isaiah 9 contains one of the most well-known prophecies of the coming Messiah. It offers hope in a broken and often terrifying world. This verse is near the beginning:
The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who dwelt in a land of deep darkness, on them has light shone.
Isaiah 9:2
Did you know the Hebrew word translated “deep darkness” here is צַלְמָוֶת [tsalmâveth], the same word translated “shadow of death” in Psalm 23:4?
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
Psalm 23:4
The word carries connotations of darkness and terror, danger, and yes, death.
The truth is, our world is filled with darkness, danger, terror, and death. Scripture tells us we are dead in our sins, which is why Jesus came. Because He is fully God, His life is worth far more than any created being. Because He is fully man, His willing death alone can repair the breach between God and man caused by sin.
That’s why He is the only Way to God. He is the Light which came into this world of deep darkness.
Sin. I want to talk about sin. Get your mind out of the gutter, ya perv.
Seriously, though, we really don’t talk much about sin anymore, and I think I know why.
As humans, we have an innate understanding of right and wrong. Over time, this understanding becomes twisted by our pride, distorted by repeated suppression, and is subject to a myriad of other deformations. Yet somewhere deep inside, we all know certain things are wrong – even if we only recognize them as a wrong when done to us.
They show that the work of the law is written on their hearts, while their conscience also bears witness, and their conflicting thoughts accuse or even excuse them
Romans 2:15
The general term for this understanding is conscience. And like any other human part, it can become scarred-over and calloused until there’s no feeling left.
Which brings us to today.
Instead of sin, we talk about things like lifestyle, my truth, or even illness. Much air is expended discussing our battles or our challenges. When confronted with wrongdoing, Christian influencers may confess their struggles. . . but not their sin.
It’s true we do go to battle against our sinful inclinations; we must struggle against temptation to sin. And yet, more often than not, the words are not used in this way but rather as a clever dodge to avoid responsibility. A struggle or a lifestyle is much more palatable than a willful crime.
What we’re missing in this subtle semantic waltz is the gravity of sin.
Sin is a killer. Period.
Sin is ugly. It is rebellion against the Maker; treason against the King; a refusal of the creation to perform its function as it was designed.
Sin lies. It cheats us of true life. It steals joy and covers it up in an endless, wretched pursuit of meager happiness and fleeting pleasure.
And no matter what name we give to make it sweeter to say, sin leads to death. In fact, death is what the sinner earns – as surely as you earn your paycheck from your employer.
For the wages of sin is death. . .
“But I’m not dead,” you may say, and perhaps you’re right. I wonder, though: can you honestly tell me you have a single relationship that hasn’t suffered a kind of death? Was any type of harm ever done to you by another person? Have you ever harmed another, even mildly?
Death of trust, death of respect, death of joy, of reputation, commitment, communication. Death everywhere we look, if we look with honesty. Even the cooling of affections is a kind of death.
Friends, this horror covers only one kind of death. The rot of sin goes far deeper than this.
. . . but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.
(Romans 6:23)
The good news is, we don’t have to accept death. We can talk about our sin; confess it, repent of it, and be set free in Christ. Expose the canker of sin to the fresh air of truth.
It may hurt, it may be embarrassing, but I can tell you from experience there is no cleaner pain. Like debriding an infected wound, the momentary torment is nothing compared to the relief of healing.
Let’s confess our sin to God our Healer and turn away in true repentance, trusting in the work of the Son of God to break the chains of sin and make us really free.
But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life.
Running the Race 