Why Me?

Have you ever asked, “Why me?” Have you ever just sat back and thought to yourself that it shouldn’t be this way? This was not the life that you signed up for. There are few times in my short life that I can look back and definitely say that I got a solid answer to a question that I asked God. One time I asked that very question and lately, I’ve felt the need to share it with all of you.

Most of you who read this know at least to some extent the background for this story. However, if you don’t, consider yourself blessed to have missed out on what I consider to be my darkest hour. Just know that if you missed it, you can be thankful. I wish sometimes that I had, but then again, God taught and is teaching me so much through all of those things that I can now understand how He uses things in His sovereignty that I just don’t get to vote on this side of heaven.

This particular morning, I remember standing in a shower and crying out straight to heaven, “Why ME?! What have I done to deserve this, Lord? Remember me? I did everything right.” Now I’ve never really experienced an answer that I knew was the Lord quite this quickly but almost before the words formed in my mind did was I very quickly hit between the eyes with this – “Elizabeth (yes, He used my name), why NOT you?” No, it wasn’t audible but it was as close to audible as anything I have ever experienced. And right there in that moment, I was forced to grapple with that very question. Thinking about it now makes me laugh a little because I think of how Job wagged his finger at God and asked questions – and God let him but then He asked Job some questions of His own. Maybe He was just turning the question back around on me. Well, not surprisingly, it worked. I started thinking… you know, why not me? When was I ever promised that if I checked a, b, and c off of the religious list I had tallied out in my head that everything would just fall into place with the so called “American Dream?” Where does this sense of entitlement come from? The pits of Hell would be my guess. God promises me abundantly more than I could ever even think to ask for but one thing I haven’t been able to find is where He promises me that my life will be fair and pain free. Know why? Because He promises, His word promises, just the opposite.

There is an old country song that one of my favorite speakers mentioned in a podcast this week. I’ve never heard it but when I heard the title, I dug up the lyrics. Here’s a spin on the Why Me question that so many of us (myself especially included) feel the need to ask. Next time you or I ask Why Me, I hope that I can think about the words to this song and remember instead how truly blessed I am.

Why Me, Lord? Kris Kristofferson

Why me Lord?

What have i ever done to deserve even one of the pleasures I've known?

Tell me Lord, what did I ever do that was worth lovin' you for the kindness you've shown?

Elizabeth

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

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