Surrendering Desires

Lately I have been discontent. Even to me, it seems silly. How greatly the Lord has blessed me! How can I be ungrateful?

Yet I have been discontent. Why? Because of desires.

For the most part, my desires are not, to my knowledge, wrong. God gives us desires-imagine life without desires. If such a life were possible, it would not be a righteous life.

But we are called to die to self. That what we long for is good does not mean that we have a right to it.

For example, I have been discontent in my relationships with my friends. Often, they are busy and when I feel the need to talk to someone, it doesn't happen until the issue feels less pressing. The conversation I expect to happen does not. The person I want to see doesn't come. This has happened over and over again.

These are not bad desires that I should root out of my life. God has given us each other. Fellowship is good; iron sharpens iron. The older women are to teach the younger women, so the younger women must be willing to be taught. We are commanded to love one another.

However, over and over, when I want someone's opinion, it somehow doesn't work out. (Of course, in these lower moments, all those times I was encouraged by a friend are conveniently forgotten.) I've come to see the Lord trying to teach me. But I haven't learned, so it happens again. It's as if He's saying, You must rely on Me. I can fulfill your needs. Come to Me. Ask of Me.

But I want to ask a person. I want to hear someone say, This is what I would do. I understand how you feel. I think if you do this it will honor the Lord.

I want to please the Lord. But so often I don't want to come to Him myself. I want a mediator. My first impulse is not to turn to Christ. Many times, I start to pray, and then I start to imagine a conversation with a friend. If I asked her this, she would say... rather than God says. And so, in order to teach me to rely first on Him, He removes my other supports.

These other supports aren't bad, mind you. Just distracting from The Support.

So, in this and other desires, I long for something good (peace in the Lord, for example) and seek to fulfill it in a good way (comfort from His people) but neglect the best way (finding peace that passes understanding in Him), so God must remove those good ways, until I learn to use the best way.

It reminds me of a verse from Isaiah, which isn't exactly the same idea, but relates.

“Why do you spend money for what is not bread,
  And your wages for what does not satisfy?
  Listen carefully to Me, and eat what is good,
  And delight yourself in abundance."



Why do we settle for dust when God offers us gold?

Because we do not see with eyes of faith, and only with eyes of faith does this make sense.

How can a relationship that isn't physical, isn't visible, tangible, or audible be enough? How can I be satisfied with something I cannot see?

I guess that's why it's called peace that passes understanding.

That was a long tangent from discussing discontentment. However, it's something I've been  considering a lot, this idea of relying on the good things God gives us, such as godly friendships, rather than Him, and something I think most people are tempted to be discontent in.

Any desire has the temptation of bringing discontentment, no matter how good that desire is. For example, I want to have a mission, a clear purpose, specifically to make a difference in the lives of the fatherless-whether literally fatherless or not-but those who are aching because they do not know peace and are disillusioned with the world.

Of course, this is a good desire. It is in line with Scripture, which calls us to love one another and care for the orphan and widow (which I see as a broad category).

When, last year, I was inspired to live an eternity-focused life, one of the things my friend and I caught a vision of was to have lived a biography-worthy life. To be like George Mueller, Amy Carmichael, Gladys Alward. To not have people wonder, when someone says at your funeral, "She was such a godly woman, always serving the Lord," if they aren't exaggerating a bit, what they're exactly referring to. To have people point to you and say, "That person changed my life," and it be obvious, more than, "She was my friend and encouraged me."

Again, this isn't a bad desire, necessarily. Over and over again in Scripture, God speaks of reward, of honor, of having a good name. "A good name is better than riches," Proverbs says.

But our ideas of serving the Lord aren't always His. As I discussed with my friend yesterday, He is more interested in obedience than in sacrifice. Our works are our sacrifice, but our heart's attitude is more important. God doesn't need our service.

So, desiring to have this ministry, I can become discontent. I have often thought I would not want to marry a rich man (and by rich I don't mean super rich). To learn to deal with wealth would be a struggle for me. I do not want to live "the American dream," to simply have a nice house in a neighborhood, a steady job, four kids, and spend my time taking kids to soccer practices. Even if I add a dozen kids to that American dream, I am not content with that picture. I want something more exciting. More eternally significant.

Yet I am afraid this has more to do with my pride than any desire to please God. How spiritual I am, when I don't care about money, how I look, pop culture, watching movies, the latest trends.

Would I be willing to live a "regular, boring" life, with two public schooled kids, a dog, a comfortable income, in a nice little neighborhood? I am afraid not.

And yet, that is no less honoring to God. It is eternally significant. It is not doing God service to become a missionary when He's calling you to this sort of life. To obey is better than sacrifice.

And, ironically, I realize that were I to get exactly what I want (and do I even know what that is? No, I don't), I would be discontent. You see it over and over again: desire to be older-then you wish you were younger. Desire a job-you wish you didn't have to work. Desire to be married-you miss doing things you could before and long for children. Get children-you resent the necessary sacrifices. Tire of young kids-they grow, and you wish they were young.

I want a special ministry, but what if God called me to be a missionary? I have never wanted to go and be a missionary, because I never wanted to leave home or family. Everything I want, I know I would still be discontent if I got it.

So I've been learning, I must surrender my desires. Do I want to spend time studying Scripture with friends? Do I want to have some "special" calling? Do I want a dozen kids? Do I want to mentor hopeless girls? No matter how good the desire, I must give it up. I must be willing to live without it. I must not think God needs my help, or that in order to please Him I must serve in whatever way I think I should.

Then, I think, God will probably give back my desires. I do have good friends who challenge me spiritually. I probably will get married and have a bunch of home schooled kids. Most likely I'll never be rich. I probably will lead a Kid's Club or in some way work with practical orphans. These things aren't really the issue.

It's interesting how God works. He prepares us so well for a role-and then He calls us to something totally different. Like Paul, who knew Judaism inside and out-and was sent to the Gentiles. He calls us to what we are unprepared for, so that we learn to trust in Him. So that we realize that whatever we're doing isn't what satisfies us. It's only Him.

Talking about writing with my friend, I had an idea for a story, which I suddenly really wanted to do. We were talking about how our characters became real to us, how we would like to meet them in real life. What if they did? I wondered. Then, I thought it would be interesting to write a story with you, the author, in it, and have the characters come to life.

(About now, if you're actually reading this long post, you're wondering what this has to do with the topics at hand. Don't worry; I shall explain.)

As I imagined this, I laughed and said to my friend something like, "They might not like what you're doing." So, these characters would come out of the story into real life because of this terrible situation they are in and complain to you, the author. Get us out of this situation! they would cry. Why would you do this to us? Whining, they would try to get you to write it differently.

But you, as the author, can see the end. You know that if you rewrite the story as the characters wish you would, the ending would be messed up. No, you tell them gently, it has to be this way. Don't worry-it'll turn out all right. You send them back into the story, and despite enjoying your characters, you do not change it for all their pleading. Because you can see the end.

It wasn't until I explained this idea for a book to my friend that I realized the implications you doubtless saw immediately. I felt silly even mentioning them to her since they were so obvious. "The intellectual parallels of that would be cool," I said. "That's just like our relationship with God."

He sees the ending. We see where we are. We think that if God wrote it this way or that way, it'd be much better. But God knows how to work it out, and it's not by making sure the characters are always content and happy.

And for that reason, it would be best if the characters choose to be content and happy, knowing that the Author knows what He's doing, and His way will work out best. Even when His ways seem to be contrary to His own goal (as I wrote in my poem a couple months ago). Even when it seems that He's putting us through unnecessary heartache or trouble.

Sometimes as a parent, you deny a child their desire, not because you don't want them to have that, or because you are unkind, but because of that child's attitude. Were they to change it, you would immediately grant their request. Because you understand that character is more important than comfort.

Somehow, however, these things we know get forgotten and do not transfer when we need to apply them to our lives, to some specific situation. If we trust that God is our good Father, why do we try to hold onto what we want? If He doesn't give it to us, He has something better. Maybe not better in our eyes, but do we want to trust our vision?

Right about now is where I wish I could give you a magic formula which, after using, you would always be willing to give up anything God asked of you. However, there isn't one. God doesn't work by formulas. He works by relationships. And relationships are hard and messy and take work as long as there's sin in the world.

I wish there was a formula, so I could use it. After surrendering my desires, they returned, and I have to do it again. Every time I am tempted to rely on something, anything, other than Christ, I have a choice. Too often I choose to surrender to my desires rather than surrendering my desires to Christ.

"Delight yourself also in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart."

It is good to know that not only will God fulfill our desires, but He will conform our desires to His. So what is the secret to contentment, to surrendering our desires? The secret to all trouble: knowing Christ. Conforming to Him. It is only as we lose sight of Him and focus on our life on earth that we can be discontent. We have Christ-what else do we need?

Destroying Children's Imaginations

This summer I have begun a number of books, gradually adding another until I have half-a-dozen or more very good books I want to finish but haven't. I didn't mean to do this; I simply happened upon one book after another that caught my interest and inadvertently started reading.

One day this happened with a medium-sized paperback book lying in a stack on the couch. My interest was caught, first because there was a pile of new books, and then by the cover  of this particular one, which looks like a painting of a child sitting on a moonbeam from a book of nursery poems below a picture (with, oddly, an uncoordinating blue background) of a gray gargoyle. The title was equally interesting and ponderous. Uncapitalized, it read: ten ways to destroy the imagination of your child.

Maybe if you've been around me in the past few weeks you've heard me mention it. It's one of my new favorite books, and one I think every parent raising a child in the modern age should read.

I didn't intend to read it, just to see what it was about. Did the author, Anthony Esolen, think that imagination should be discouraged in children? I picked it up, and Mom said she'd gotten it from CC. It was, indeed, a Classical Conversations edition..

The very first page had me, when he started talking about this vandal who destroyed irreplaceable volumes from his library, and "there wasn't much we could do about it, because the vandal in question made more money than we did and had a nicer office. He was our librarian. It's ironic, but true, that one of the qualifications of the modern librarian is a distaste for books. They take up space, and space, the librarians complain, is limited."

I liked it, but when I got to the second page, I laughed and loved it and had to read it aloud.

"Books are bulky and inconvenient-like rocks, and trees, and rivers, and life. It occurs to me that everything that can be said against the inconvenience of books can be said about the inconvenience of children. They too take up space, are of no immediate practical use, are of interest to only a few people, and present all kinds of problems. They too must be warehoused efficiently, and brought with as little resistance as possible into the digital age."

I am so glad my parents collect both and, much as they protest against their inconvenience, can't seem to stop. (Haha...okay, that last part refers to books, not children...although Mom has protested against the idea of having twins and decides that collecting grandchildren would be preferable.)

The introduction is my favorite part of the book; it's full of great quotes. Such as, in saying how children are not resources because resources are valuable because they are good, solid, dependable, and inert, he gives the example: if a resource were to decide to do something other than its expected use, it would be "worse than useless. It would be an Enemy of the People. Granite is a resource. If a block of granite at the top of an arch were to wriggle loose whenever people weren't around to notice, to drop on the head of the governor, we might swear off building with granite for a while. Or we might use it all the more--but that is another matter."

I love it.

So, we must transform children to make them resources. That leads us to this awesome quote:

"But we don't want that!" my reader objects. Yes, dear reader, you do. Children make liars of us all. Almost everything we say about them is a lie. We believe exactly the opposite, and act accordingly.

That is so true...

Suppose you are a lover of books. You will not say, "Ah, books, yes, books are wonderful. Such treasures, books are! Myself, I don't have any, and I don't want any, or maybe just one, but I so love books!" Why, you would have books strewn about your flat. You would delight in their very bindings and the smell of their pages. You would not know what to do without them. You would not say, "Yes, I love books. That is why I have warehoused them in this special room, far away from company, and far from where I do anything of importance. I keep them locked up behind this glass case, and only take them out on special occasions." You would not say, "Books indeed, our greatest resource. They kindle readily, and make excellent bonfires."

If we loved children, we would have a few. If we had them, we would want them as children, and would love the wonder with which they behold the world, and would hope that some of it might open our own eyes a little. We would love their games, and would want to play them once in a while, stirring in ourselves those memories of play that no one regrets, and that are almost the only things an old man can look back on with complete satisfaction. We would want children tagging along after us, or if not, then only because we would understand that they had better things to do.

Now that is simply intolerable. For the first time in human history, most people are doing things that could never interest a child enough to make him want to tag along. That says less about the child than about us. If someone should say to us, "How would you like to spend most of your waking hours, five days a week, for the next four years, shut within four walls," we should go mad, that is if we had an imagination left. It is only by repressing that imagination that many of us can stand our work.

I know you skipped that quote. Now, go back and read it. It's long, but it's worth it.

Esolen's argument is that in order to prepare children for the world they will live in, we must kill the imagination. "The ideal, of course, would be to cease having children, but that might have some adverse effect upon long-range economic prosperity, besides threatening certain industries with extinction--the manufacturers of tasteless clothing, for instance, and importers of refined sugar."

As one review on the back of the book says, Esolen goes on in a style reminiscent of C. S. Lewis' The Screwtape Letters. With humor and sarcasm, he turns many of the things that we simply accept as part of culture in such a way that one reconsiders-why do we do things the way we do, and what are we doing to our children?

I could go on and on, or write a new post on every chapter. Maybe I shall. But for brevity's sake, I shall share my general thoughts and impressions.

This book has made me wish I had done things better. I wish I had spent less time playing games on the computer and more wandering the woods. I wish I had spent less time wasting time and more time reading. I wish I had read fewer silly kids' books and more fairy tales (the real ones) and classics.

I don't regret a moment of imaginative play with my siblings (apart from time spent arguing with my brother...and that one time I stayed home from youth group because I needed to do the dishes and played orphanage all night instead...). I am grateful for my free childhood, with ready access to the woods, a huge sandbox, and all sorts of things to help the imagination: wood and stones for fires, rags and dress-up stuff for clothing, sheets and boxes and chairs for houses, paper to make money or write letters or keep ledgers, and sticks for anything you might need.

We're well-known for being readers, and I am thankful for my parents reading books to us and indulging our sitting around with noses stuck in yet another book.

But our standard isn't other people, and just because most people don't read anything, doesn't excuse me for not reading as much as I ought to have.

Expectations have changed. In our fast-paced culture, thinking isn't valued. Doing "nothing" is considered a waste of time-but Facebook, movies, texting, endless trips to the mall, surfing the internet, are not. Few people think. Spending time in thought is weird. Few people write-though as my dad has said, most of the great men in history kept journals.

One thing that struck me in the book was the idea of standardization. Everything is supposed to be the same. You go to school, you do some extracurricular activities in spare time (you really shouldn't have any of that), you go to college, you get a job, you get married, you have kids, you retire, you go on cruises, one immediately on the heels of another (except having kids, of course). No one even considers doing things differently, and if you chance to do so, you've got explaining to do, 'cause nobody understands why you would follow another formula.

As the book says, we want to raise little machines who will function well in the roles we create for them in society. Much free time, much time to think about what is going on and why, and you'll get people who won't conform to society's ideas.

As Christians, this is makes sense. God is a creator who delights in diversity. Just look at the world around you. There are general trends, of course. A snowflake is a snowflake. But no two look just alike. Why? Why not make all things the same? Creation declares the glory of God. In the same way, God works in each life differently. God doesn't use formulas for anything that I can think of. It teaches us to walk by faith.

And the Word says, "Be still and know that I am God." Scripture is full of stories. That is often a means of revealing truth. Clear thinking leads to Him.

We must beware of imagination, because like all other good things on earth, it has been corrupted by sin. But we must also beware of dampening our God-given curiosity. Learn to think for yourself.

"Test all things. Approve of what is good."

That was such fun, I think maybe I will do a post for each chapter.

I Heard the Voice of Jesus Say

I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"Come and I will give thee rest."
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"Those who suffer are heaven-blessed."

I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"My yoke is easy, my burden is light."
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"Trust in Me, I will provide."

I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"Die to self, I give you life."
I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"Give up your ways, for Mine are right."

I heard the voice of Jesus say,
"Pick up your cross and follow Me."
I heard the voice of Jesus say--
His sayings made no sense to me.

I wanted to believe in Him;
Indeed, with my small faith I did.
But my weak heart could not rely
On things unseen by human eye.

"Your yoke is easy? No way that's true.
You promised trials and hardships, too.
Those who suffer will be blessed?
Taking up your cross is somehow rest?"

I tried to grasp, but reason failed.
I turned away, but He prevailed.

"Try me now, and you will find
Life and joy and peace of mind.
Forget your fears and trust in Me.
With worldly wisdom you cannot see."

I don't know why, but I gave in.
I left my ways and followed Him.
As if my feet were not my own,
They walked the path that He had shown.

Then I found true what He had said.
Dying to self, I was not dead.
All that wisdom could not see
Faith made very real to me.

Though every reasoning said no,
My experience proved that it was so.
So may I  trust and just obey
Whatever I hear my Savior say.

Camping Pictures and Poems

Spending a number of relaxing days at a campground with my church family, involving lots of kids and being outside, lends itself to many pictures.

From the kids running about everywhere, 

 

 


 



To fun on the slip 'n' slide,

To the twins,







 

 

To sweet family interactions,

To the sword-fighting boys,

To making food outdoors,

 













 

 
To fun at the beach-



 



  

 In the water,










 









 


In the mud,

 




 
 







 









and in the sand-





























To lazying in fields creating daisy chains,

 

 






To adorning each other with them,











 

To nighttime adventures,






 
 












To unending games of volleyball-

Both inside and out-

Even to injuries to make everything more interesting,



























To simply enjoying watching people interact,

To exploring the lake,
 


 

To many rounds of carpet ball,






 

To watching my little buddies,

To making the rounds-

 








by wagon, 

by bike,

by both,

by stroller,











by foot-

 










To being goofy together,


 


 

 
 











To taking walk



 








after walk










until your poor feet are sore:

There's plenty to take pictures of, and too much, in fact.

 
Especially people.

There's portrait

 after portrait

 after portrait

after portrait

 Well...

 You get the idea.

There's lots of opportunity for portraits.

There were so many things to enjoy, most of all fellowship with other believers and with the Lord, that I didn't want to miss. Seeing through the lens of a camera, you notice things you wouldn't otherwise, but you also have a narrowed vision sometimes, making it harder to enjoy the moment sometimes. For this reason I took fewer pictures than I would have.

Good thing, right? Otherwise this post would never end...

One thing I much enjoyed was writing poems with a group of friends. For the first one, we took over the campsite of one family and wrote poems beginning with "For Friendship." This made me think of all that one does because of a friend that one wouldn't otherwise.

And of course I shall add a few more pictures I didn't fit in otherwise.


For Friendship
By Jeannette Beerbower
June 14, 2013

For friendship
Loss of sleep
When there's no need
To count sheep
Though down your eyelids
Want to creep
No sleep
For friendship

For friendship
Tedium endured
Going somewhere
You are bored
On the whim
Of one adored
Tedium endured
For friendship

For friendship
Mental pain
Heartsore for
Another's rain
Longing to lift
Another's drain
Mental pain
For friendship

For friendship
Take delight
Though undesired
In your sight
You now find
That you might
Take delight
For friendship

For friendship
Work undone
Chores are piling
Up a ton
But away from
Them you run
Work undone
For friendship


This exercise was so much enjoyed that I proposed we do it again. We didn't have another starting line, so looking about us all sitting in another's space, I suggested invasion.



What could be more appropriate for the camping trip, where we're all constantly joking about "mooching" off of people, and it's like a big communal picnic, where you go scouting off to see who has the best food whenever you're hungry?

Invade
By Jeannette Beerbower
June 14, 2013

Invasion of the camp
As if a trav'ling tramp
Mooching off of others' food
Sitting there so very rude






Relaxing as if at home
Wherever you happened to roam
Eating whatever is there
Taking over another's chair
Everything we want we raid
Yes, this is indeed how we invade.

Those two ideas summarize much of this wonderful excursion: friendship, which just makes this four-day invasion a joy.

Fellowship with those who know the Lord is sweet.

I can't wait for next year.














And even more, when this joyous fellowship has given us a little glimpse of what heaven must be like, we long for that.