Why are we told not to “get our hopes up?” That question rolls around in my head tonight. A few nights ago I heard me tell myself that and I had to talk back and tell myself I was probably wrong. Here’s why I think I should always get my hopes up –

-- God tells me to! Case in point, the Shunammite woman in 2 Kings 4. This lady has had some disappointments and she doesn't want anymore. She old, her husband is old, and she has no children; a big deal in her culture. Enter God and watch her story change. She even goes so far as to tell the prophet Elisha not to tease her or “get her hopes up” when he tells her that she will be a mother. When her son dies – now tell me that’s not a time we would like to have some hope – she then reminds that same man of God that she told him not to toy with her emotions. And now here she is, disappointed, maybe worse off than she had been before she “got her hopes up.” Then the impossible happens – not impossible for God, but impossible for us to wrap our little narrow minds around – that boy sneezes 7 times and is restored to life. Do you think if she had known that the limitless God we serve does not know the meaning of impossible that she would have held back her hopes? Nah. I wonder why it is that our culture is so determined not to face disappointment or pain. Not that I’m a glutton for punishment or anything, but when did we decide that pain wasn’t a part of the plan especially when God’s word tells us a different story? In Ecclesiastes Solomon, the wisest man, tells us that there is a time for EVERYTHING. That means all of it. In Job and Lamentations we see that God makes the good and the bad days. Somehow we seem to forget that. I like what the song says, “No matter what you’ve heard, impossible is not a word, it’s just a reason not to try.” Didn’t you know? NOTHING is impossible with God. As Max Lucado points out, it’s not the strength of Elizabeth that matters (sigh of relief), but rather the strength of God. Talk about your good news.

So, you worry (which I’ll talk about in a whole ‘nother post – See Matthew 6) that I might get my hopes up? Oh, I’m getting my hopes up… In fact, I’m SENDING my hopes up to the One supplies my hope (Ps 62:5), to the same One who I can put my hope IN (1 Tim 6:17), and to the Love that NEVER fails (1 Cor 13). Did I mention? God is love.

Elizabeth

On getting my just desserts...

\di-ˈzərv\ 1. to be worthy of 2. to be worthy, fit, or suitable for some reward or requital

It’s a funny word we use, the word deserve. We hear it from all sorts of different places. Usually we hear it when saying that we deserve something will bring us something we feel we are entitled to for whatever reason. McDonalds told us what we wanted to hear in 1971 (granted, I wasn’t here to hear it yet) with “You Deserve a Break Today” and then others have followed suit with other me-time favorites like “Because I’m Worth It” or even looking out for man’s best friend in “Doesn’t your dog deserve Alpo?” I mean, come on… we all know how I feel about the dog… but really? She deserves something? Let’s see. What has she contributed to the world to deserve Alpo. Um, that’d be big fat nothing. It’s not like she’s waking up in the morning hoping to work her way up to Alpo. Actually, truth be told, her needs far exceed what Alpo is selling. What was I talking about again?

Oh yes, we think we deserve things. For about two years now, that word has been bugging me. I notice it all around me. One of my least favorite phrases to hear as an argument from those around me is the classic, “You deserve better.” Really? What have I done that you think warrants a better outcome in my life? Is it because you think I should be rewarded based on what I have done here on this earth? For myself? For others? Instead of going off of what humans think, let’s look at what God says about what it is that I, a sinner fallen from grace, deserve.

Psalm 103:8 says

The LORD is compassionate and gracious,
slow to anger, abounding in love.

9 He will not always accuse,
nor will he harbor his anger forever;

10 he does not treat us as our sins deserve
or repay us according to our iniquities.

So, you ask, how do I feel about not getting what I “deserve” in life? I think it’s more of that grace that I cannot seem to understand. Surpasses my limited knowledge. Overwhelms my simple mind, floods my heart, overflows my cup. Why? Because, HE does not treat me as my sins deserve. Even if Jesus didn’t do another thing for me the rest of my life, He died in my place and paid a debt He didn’t owe – something I could never deserve. O Lord, give me the grace to love like You love. And thanks for withholding what it is that I truly deserve.

Elizabeth

Filters

This week I’ve been thinking about filters. I know, sounds weird, right? Normally the only time I think about filters in when the guy from the oil change place comes in and shakes out a dirty air filter in my lap and tells me that I need a new one because this one is dirty. I always fight the strong urge to let him know that actually now I don’t need a new one because he has just cleaned the old one out on top of my dress pants. Thanks.

Maybe some of you are thinking that I lost my filter right there. Filters are used to keep the bad things out of the good things. They keep the sludge and filth out of the nice clean things we like so much. And I’m sure that air filter does something important, I’m just not the kind of girl who really cares about exactly how it works. Just put it on my tab, oil change guy.

Actually, the filters I’m talking about here today are the ones that we set up for the things that we say. The filter our brain develops over time. You know the ones. The filter that catches that curse word right before it reaches your teeth. The filter that keeps you from telling someone what you really think. The thing is, I’ve seen someone’s filter disintegrate quite a few times this week as my Granddad has struggled with general advanced age problems and sickness. And it got me to thinking…

Where do those thoughts come from? A lot of times you hear someone saying that it’s the “disease” but I’ve got to think that some of those thoughts are coming from somewhere, it’s just that the “disease” eats your filter. Let's just admit that all of us have experienced breach of filter moments in our own lives. It’s like someone has taken down our carefully placed screen and opened a not so flattering window into parts of our brains that maybe we didn’t even know about. Here’s what I’m getting at: God sees right through our carefully placed filter. He tells Samuel this in 1 Samuel 16:7 “Do not look on his appearance or on the height of his stature, because I have rejected him. For the LORD sees not as man sees: man looks on the outward appearance, but the LORD looks on the heart."

Yikes. That means God sees the parts of me that even I don’t like to look at. And you know what? My filter might be akin to the emperor’s newest fashion statement when it comes to how God sees me, but now, thanks to My Jesus, I have a covering. In the words of singer songwriter JJ Heller, “I am painted red” by the blood of Jesus and that’s what God sees when He looks at me now. So yeah, I’m a mess. That’s not to say that I want continue to be – The Apostle Paul said that of course(!) we don’t take that grace as a license to sin and I’m with him on that – it’s just to say that once again, the grace that Jesus pours out on me freshly every morning is so much more than I drink in and when I get a little glimpse of another drop of it, my cup overflows.

Elizabeth

And sometimes He uses a dog…

I’m wondering what to start my blog out with so I think I’ll rewind back to a few months ago. I’ve had more semi-profound thoughts since then, but for now, this is all that makes it to the top of the memory sludge. That being said, let me explain what I mean by “He” and the use of a dog.

A few months ago, back before the snow coated the surprised ground, I had a moment of energy/uncommon desire to be outside so I took Lucy (my somewhat flawed Westie dog) and Aggie (my Mom’s Chihuahua meets Dachshund) on a short stroll. One thing I failed to mention about Lucy is that she’s a lot like me. She’s weird about cuddling and while she wants to be with you, she’s definitely not a lap dog. Along with that, her endurance is much like mine in that it’s nothing to write home about even on a good day. All of that said, we get along pretty well, my dog and I. Although she often scratches herself into oblivion and at the same time empties my wallet, I kind of love her. Great dog. That, however, is not the point.

On the particular day I’m recalling, I had decided (without consulting my dogs) to go the extra mile which was actually only an extra block or so. As we neared home, I felt a tug at the leash and looked back to find my precious little dog conducting her own sit in. Not budging, she wasn’t going another step. She was tired and this was not the walk she signed up for.

What struck me was not that my dog was taking some “me” time but instead, I stood back and thought about what she could not see. She was tired, and her feet hurt. What she couldn’t see was that when we went around the next curve we would be HOME. Home, where she could rest. That started me thinking. How often does God look at me with those same thoughts? How often does He look at me and say, “But if you only knew what was around the corner. It’s good! It’s HOME!” When I say sometimes He uses a dog, I mean that He uses all kinds of things to get me to pay attention and on that day, He picked a dog.

Turns out, Lucy wasn’t planning on resuming her walk on her own. So what did I do? I did what any person who loves their dog would do… I carried her. I carried her because I knew what was best for her. I carried her because I knew that if we could just get around that last corner, something better was waiting for her. I carried her because I wanted her with me. Isn’t that how God feels about His children? I’m so glad He uses dogs and donkeys and maybe even sometimes, He uses me.

Elizabeth